In Jerusalem, the night is still well established that the birds are already beginning to be heard timidly. The old town is practically deserted, but the sound of combat boots against the flagstones of the alleys echoes.
It is the first time in more than thirty years that the Christian Passover, Passover, among the Jews, as well as Ramadan, celebrated by the Muslims, take place at the same time. In the Holy City, epicenter of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, religious holidays already bring many challenges. But this year, the specter of the previous month of Ramadan hangs over the city. Some fear a repeat of the scenario of last May which led to eleven days of clashes between Hamas, in the Gaza Strip, and the Israeli army.
farj
At the entrance to the Muslim quarter, to the north, the garlands of lights still illuminate the agora which faces the Damascus Gate. The day before, families and friends had gathered here after nightfall which, in the middle of Ramadan, marks the end of the fast. The children, luminescent sticks in hand, circled around old-looking mascots. From the square emanated the smells of corn and grilled fava beans that still linger in the early morning.
A little after four o’clock, a hundred Muslim worshipers gathered at the al-Aqsa mosque for the farj, the dawn prayer, which lasts about an hour. No collision is recorded. At Bab Hutta, the northern gate of the enclosure, most of the worshipers who finish the prayer are rather old. We pass the “hello”: “as-salamu aleikum”.
Dawn at the “Kotel”
The esplanade of the Mosques and the Wailing Wall form one. However, the number of access doors specific to each group, as well as the many detours, make us forget the proximity.
As the “Kotel”, as the Jews colloquially call the Wailing Wall, is open to all, metal detectors and X-ray readers are used at all its entrances to check the contents of the bags of people entering the place. At one of the entrances, however, the device is out of order. “No weapons on you?” asks a security guard, before letting a colleague stealthily check the contents of the bags that will enter the square.
Thousands of pilgrims are expected in the morning to attend the “Birkat HaCohanim”, the priestly blessing, which takes place during the Jewish festivals of Passover and Sukkot.
At the Wailing Wall, even before sunrise, a crowd is already flocking. Women, young children, from Israel, as well as from all over the world, as well as men dressed in white shawls pray in whispers at the holiest place in the Jewish religion.
Disturbing visits
At almost eight o’clock, the esplanade of the Mosques has been open for almost an hour to people of non-Muslim faith. To the sound of music emerging from the City of David, a few dozen meters away, visitors, mainly Jews and Christians, wait in line to cross the only door reserved for them, this, four hours a day and on certain days. only. This week, non-Muslim visitors are allowed to enter in groups of around 50 escorted people.
For Eliezer Gerstman, a 27-year-old Jewish Israeli, visiting the “Temple Mount”, as he calls it, taking up a common denomination among Jews, is essential. “Our temple was destroyed nearly 2,000 years ago,” explains the young man from Bet Shemesh. We, as Jews, have to go there three times a year, including during Passover. A sign signed in the name of the Chief Rabbinate of Israel, affixed to the entrance arch just above his head, however, indicates the opposite and strictly prohibits entry, “by Torah law”. , due to “the sanctity of the Temple Mount”. “It’s true, answers Eliezer, questioned on the subject. We have to take extra care, we have to be pure. For example, I came without shoes, ”replies the young man, pointing to his feet.
From a distance, female voices shout that “Allah is great”. Once inside the compound of the esplanade, the religious Jews are escorted under close surveillance for their own safety and the safety of the Muslim devotees who are still there.
Shortly before seven o’clock in the morning, the Israeli police, supported by the army, came to “prepare” the enclosure for its opening to non-Muslims.
In the morning last Friday, more than 150 people were injured and 400 arrests took place during clashes between Palestinians and Israeli security forces on the esplanade. As the Wailing Wall is only a stone’s throw from al-Aqsa, the first concerns quickly brought in the Israeli authorities, already on the lookout.
On Wednesday morning, banging on large doors as well as slogans are heard from the al-Aqsa mosque. The faithful are locked up there.
Older men, as well as the imam of the mosque, are grouped on a platform facing the third holiest site in Islam. Some pray, others film videos to be posted on social media. The gathered men are all spectators of the same painting. A skylight at al-Aqsa has been completely exposed since last Friday’s clashes. Young men lodged there and fired rocks and Molotov cocktails from the window at the three policemen standing opposite the main entrance to the mosque. A second group of police responded by firing rubber bullets at the same window when the tension flared. Meanwhile, the women, who are gathering near the Dome of the Rock, are raising their voices of protest.
At various points in Jerusalem, the police and military presences have therefore been increased, but the numbers act, in the city, with a restraint that is less known to them.
“The problem is that we are currently celebrating Ramadan, begins one of the men on the spot. Here religious Jews were planning to sacrifice a sheep, they wanted to pray, but this place is ours. Curious ears perk up. “Apart from the holidays, it’s fine. We have no problem with Jews. They have their book, we have ours. They can come here, but those who come today are different. Another man, in his sixties, approaches. “They can’t pray here, that’s all. Neither Christians nor Jews. This place is for Muslims and not just for Palestinians, but for the two billion Muslims in the world”, specifies the man.
A new rubber bullet is fired. “We have the right to stay. The police know that at our age we don’t do anything, but…” The man looks around. He walks on eggshells. Then continues: “The gestures of the youngest are legitimate. We were all taken. Here is the last piece of land we have left. »
The fear of the spark
In Jerusalem, on such a small piece of land, realities can easily and quickly contrast. From eight-thirty, just downstairs, some 10,000 Jewish faithful now attend the blessing of the “Birkat HaCohanim”. For the next two hours, they pray, they sing. No one knows what is really happening on this esplanade.
Jerusalem also remains a crucial issue for both Jews and Muslims, Israelis and Palestinians, as well as the scene of religious festivals and clashes. The city is also only a window of this conflict which unfolds on a vast territory. Clashes in recent weeks in the West Bank have claimed the lives of 23 Palestinians, while in Israel, attacks have claimed 14 lives in less than a month.