"International Aid and Saggy Pants" -- by Stephanie Rhodes

I never thought I'd be one to praise a Bush administration tactic or to side with free market investment over government safety nets. It seems that Palestine may have brought me back to my Republican roots after all. That, or I harbor some secret desire for the entire place to implode. It's hard to know.

What I will say is this: the aid system here feels completely broken. And in many ways I hold it directly responsible for the development paradox in play on the ground here.

This place feels like all the worst criticisms of a welfare state: that the money goes to those who don't really need it, rather than those with a genuine desire to progress; that it is a system of handouts that perpetuate poverty rather than alleviating it; that taxpayers would be better off keeping their hard-earned cash and distributing it as they see fit.

If I weren't the card-carrying liberal that I am, the conversation would probably end there. Instead of living in the Middle East, I'd stay at home and tell myself that those who won't/can't help themselves are a lost cause.

The thing is, the Palestinian people are caught up in some strange Bermuda Triangle version of a welfare state. Israeli policies control the borders, the customs, the "security" and, most of all, the movement. Palestinian Authority systems seem to exert a redundant internal bureaucracy, one that allegedly enriches its key players but that produces few tangible results. Meanwhile the international community props up both of these systems politically and financially. It funds the weapons that make genuine efforts at conciliation less attractive, it supports political administrations that no longer serve at the people's will, and it generates the same aid projects that have failed in the past and that will continue to fail in the future. It is a welfare state that supports only itself. It is a cycle that serves not to address the root problems but to continuously reproduce a failing system.

It is a cycle that prefers a shadow state or a meaningless logframe to a dynamic idea. It is a cycle that hasn't a hope in hell of making a difference.

In many ways, it is a waste of time. It is almost certainly a waste of money.

The Bush administration's response to this conundrum has not meant a fundamental policy shift away from these systems. What it has meant is a parallel effort to put money into the Palestinian private sector. It is an effort to boost private industry without dismantling the welfare system.

Do I think the effort does enough? Probably not, but it's a decent start.

And now for the non sequitur.

I keep replaying Barack Obama's response to an MTV question in my head. It is admittedly tangential, but let's call it our moment of zen.



That welfare state? It's like saggy pants laws. Its funds address a surface sense of decency while ignoring the world's real problems. Yet many argue that dismantling it altogether would be worse than a waste of time -- it would be a complete humanitarian collapse.

And they're probably right. Problematic though the system is, it keeps Palestine in arguably better shape than many places in Africa. So maybe it's doing something right after all.

At the same time, all the international aid brothers out there need to pull up their pants and readjust their funding priorities.

Stephanie Rhodes divides her time between Alabama and Jerusalem, where she directs Palestinian aid projects.

“Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief” - by Stephanie Rhodes

After roughly a year spent in Israel/Palestine, I’m getting really sick of talking about peace. Sick of the word even. It sounds pretty awful, I know.

But the thing is, nothing seems to change. I’m still saddened by news reports, but it’s difficult to feel shocked by them. People are killed, houses demolished, settlements constructed, guns carried, and on and on and on. And I’ve yet to hear any real answers.

There are lots of projects, some of which I’ve been involved in, that seek to effect small changes, usually in the attitudes of the next generation. It’s a noble idea and maybe even the most practical one. But is it enough? Is anything, really?

From my perspective, everyone is wrong. All of the systems are not only broken but obsolete. It’s hard to know how to make anything better, and fixing it seems so far beyond a pipe dream.

Most people simply try to live their lives. Some are admirable activists for peace. And the ones with the big guns take the chemotherapy approach: wipe out the good with the bad and hope that there’s something left to save.

Stephanie Rhodes divides her time between Alabama and Jerusalem, where she directs Palestinian aid projects.

"The Poverty of Dreams" -- by Stephanie Rhodes

I'm such a dreamer… it's not just an occasional segue – it's a core element of my personality. The truth is that I can't imagine life without dreams. Not just general dreams either, or practical 5-year plans. No, I dream big, but with lots of colorful details. Keeps things exciting and enticing. It also generally keeps them thoroughly impractical, yet familiar and deeply loved.

But at the end of the day, it's an escape born out of possibility. The reality of being an only child in a middle/upper middle class household is that you have a distinct sense of potential. You believe that there's a great big future out there, whenever you feel like catching up to it. It's natural, when all of the basic dreams like, for example, going to college are already assumed. You may not be able to afford the school of your dreams without some scholarship help, but you're sure as hell going somewhere. And, of course, the grades and activities that tend to earn scholarship money are easier to come by when being a good little student is the only real obligation you have.

It was always easy to assume big, exciting possibilities. And, despite the disappointments and setbacks that inevitably accompany growing up, it still is. After all, I manage to spend most of the year in the Holy Land doing work that I find rewarding in a place that I love, even when I sometimes hate it. I took risks, but I've also been incredibly lucky. More than that, I always knew that there were people who could offer fallback support if I really needed it. That is not an insignificant crutch.

So the thing that I find the most painful and sad about life for Palestinian children is the absence of dreams. I mean, I'm sure they still have them, but I wonder for how long? When you've come of age amidst a conflict that includes hundreds of children in its carnage, even the basic notion of life can be a huge assumption. And, assuming that your parents have the money to help you go abroad (also, by the way, a huge assumption), the requisite visa is by no means guaranteed.

Growing up near the Gulf Coast, beach trips were a frequent characteristic of family vacations and, later, spring breaks with friends. There was always something magical about the ocean…deep and powerful in ways that I couldn't completely imagine…the next wave bearing connections I couldn't predict but knew that I wanted to be a part of. It is the quintessential dreamscape for me.

Most children in the West Bank have never seen the sea.

Perhaps growing up with martyrs rather than maritime romance has made their dreams very practical. Most of the teenagers I meet long to go to college abroad. But of course their schools lack the study abroad connections that characterize the American college experience.

Dreams, like any other living organism, need food. Without it, they cannot survive. Likewise, I'm not convinced that people, and certainly not a culture, can survive without dreams.

Or, as Langston Hughes phrased it,

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore –
and then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over –
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

Stephanie Rhodes lives in Jerusalem where she coordinates Palestinian media development projects. She is a former member of Episcopal Church Committee on the Status of Women.

Living witness

by Stephanie Rhodes

This week a West Bank-headquartered media organization is conducting a training course for Palestinian journalists.

Previous trainings have focused on providing an authentic Palestinian perspective without inciting violence, on supplying comprehensive election coverage, on facilitating talk shows and encouraging live debate.

This training focuses on not dying in the field.

It focuses on not being deliberately targeted by Israeli soldiers or Palestinian political factions.

It focuses on witnessing the truth on the ground and living to broadcast the tale.

Let’s be clear: field journalism is dangerous, and Palestinian journalists are not the only ones targeted. On the other hand, most of the world’s forces targeting journalists do not claim to be modern, Western democracies. Palestinian journalists are, quite literally, caught between an unaccountable, occupying army that appears to view documentation as armed resistance and an internal conflict so ruthless its factions seem to view objective reporting as a form of high treason.

All of this is to say that you don’t want to be a Palestinian reporter. It’s simply not safe. But it’s also vitally important.

Palestinian media organizations are beginning to come into their own, to develop an authentically Palestinian voice while also trying to hold themselves accountable to international media standards. They don’t always succeed, but then again, who does?

So why does it all matter so much? I believe that having a meaningful peace process, one that promotes peace instead of simply mitigating violence, demands transnational dialogue. That cannot happen if only one side has the capacity for indigenous mass media.

To be sure, Palestinian media has a broad scope of problems, ranging from insufficient legal protections to basic lack of funding. In the end, though, there can be no media if Palestinian journalists cannot do their jobs. There can be no sustained Palestinian media dialogue if journalists cannot routinely witness the truth on the ground and live to broadcast the tale.

So what can you do? If you’re feeling very wealthy and very generous, you could donate flak jackets, helmets, emergency medical kits and more training courses. Even if you’re not very wealthy, it could be an interesting collaborative project.

Mostly though, you can read/listen to/watch as much as possible of the material they produce (in English). Make their work, their professional and personal sacrifices, matter. Too often Palestinians feel like the tree that fell in the woods with no one to hear it.

Help them make some noise.

Ma’an News Agency
International Middle East Media Center
Ramattan News Agency

Stephanie Rhodes is a young adult currently living in Jerusalem and coordinating Palestinian media development projects. She is also a former member of Episcopal Church Committee on the Status of Women.

Tomorrow: Lallie Lloyd