"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.

"Augustine said, 'Be what you see, and receive who you are.'" - by Stephanie Rhodes

I was sitting at dinner one night with a Norwegian woman I had just met. A regular globetrotter, she was telling stories about the places she'd lived and the people she'd met. And, of course, the crazy, beautiful, disconcerting process of having all of your assumptions turned right on their heads. She also talked about the Americans she'd met, some of them even foreign service officials, who would immediately declare something to the effect of, this president isn't my president. The kind of disclaimer that says, I promise, I'm not that American.

And while I heartily reject the notion that this president isn't my president -- I wish he wasn't, but that's another post for another site -- I can certainly understand their need to declare that they aren't that kind of American. I laughed that traveling in Europe after our failure to ratify the Kyoto Protocol, our invasion of Iraq and our extrajudicial extracurriculars at Guantanamo, I was really tempted to wear a tee shirt saying "I'm sorry". This Norwegian woman said, you know, you shouldn't feel that you have to apologize for who you are (she kindly ignored the reality that I also probably shouldn't be publicly reinterpreting a U2 video).

Of course she's right, and I would no more apologize for being an American than I would for being short. It is who I am and how I experience the world. Everything I do or think or believe is either in line with or in opposition to my fundamentally American identity. The challenge, though, is in being the American that I want to be.

In many ways it's like what this site and this movement does -- attempting to reclaim the language of Christianity to mean something other than damagingly homogeneic, if not just damaging, "social values". It's attempting to find space in that language, co-opted as it may be, for connections that matter and, if we're lucky, that heal.

I think the antidote to all of the power and the bullshit that separates us, admittedly leaving some of us far more privileged than others, is relationship. The ability to stand together in something that matters, in some project that heals. Whether it's "speaking truth to power" or helping to rebuild someone's house, development should be about experiencing our shared humanity, not just succeeding in some sustainability calculation.

Unfortunately, like many people, I'm very good at saying idealistic things in writing, then keeping my mouth scared shut when the rubber hits the road. Because in zones of conflict, development is not just about building things, it's also about tearing them down. And tearing them down comes with some serious risks.

That is especially true in this conflict zone, where it seems like everyone in power is wrong. Just...flat...wrong. But there are some people, certainly braver ones than myself, who manage to call everyone out. People who tell those in power exactly what kind of job they're doing and how it pales in comparison to the one they should be doing.

And it's not that they're being rabble-rousers or blowholes who love their own rhetoric. They're doing it because it is who they are. It's the only way they can make sense of their own identity.

It's time to stop saying sorry. But it's also time to be the best of who we are.

"Plessy v. Ferguson?" -- by Stephanie Rhodes

Despite the efforts by US officials to corral Israeli and Palestinian leaders into a legacy-making peace process, things here are looking worse rather than better. Gaza is being destroyed, and groups I’ve never even heard of are launching attacks in Israeli West Jerusalem.

The reality, though, is that the situation here has a kind of inevitability. Until something positive happens on the ground, I’m not convinced that any political final status can be discussed, let alone achieved. Yet it’s hard to make positive change when people live their lives apart, when the trust has been so completely destroyed that it’s hard to know how to bring them together. And as much as I believe in people living side by side, all hippie-like and harmonious, part of me feels like they need to be separate for awhile. Not separate like they are now…not separated by walls and exclusive road networks and discriminatory policies…but separated the way couples choose when they can’t seem to make it work in tandem. I’ve heard the two-state solution described as a “friendly divorce”, and, in a way, that makes the most sense.

Maybe the two sides need time to pursue their own development, to be left at least somewhat alone in their pursuits, if there is ever to be a dimension of productive partnership.

As an American, the idea of proposing some “separate but equal” variant really makes me cringe.

But with every civilian killed, every house demolished and every city closed, togetherness becomes a more distant dream. And so does development. Millions of Euros and years of good work can become so much worthless rubble in a matter of seconds, and the facts on the ground become that much more depressing. Not to mention that much more dangerous.

So what to do? The very value and challenge of this blog is in trying to answer that question. Bonus points if I can say anything about peace and development in the Middle East that doesn’t sound trite. If I were in the US right now, this is what I would want to say to anyone running for President:

1. 1) Lose the language of security and peace. Both of them are pretty meaningless right now.

2) 2) Stop playing with hearts and minds. We have to have the humility to realize that no one trusts the US anymore, and their reasons make absolute sense.

3) 3) Realize that most people just want to live their lives. If you still want to talk about peace, that insight has to be the guiding principle.

4) 4) Forget about being right. Just try to make things better. We’ve had enough ideology here, and there’s no more room in the inn.

Ultimately, development capacity will determine the extent of peace and security. It will determine workable final borders, equitable sharing of natural resources and issues of human security.* It also might be the most crucial litmus test for any notion of a just peace.

Since, however, our government spending on military aid here far outweighs its humanitarian funding, I wouldn’t count on any US administration to make development a priority. In the meantime, try to create your own connections. Work with people behind the wall to create new business strategies and to access new markets. The very internet that brought you here is likely to be their strongest asset. One cool model is www.importpeace.org. Appreciate it, learn from it, then go out and make your own.

*For an economic analysis of various final status scenarios, check out the AIX Group’s latest publication Economic Dimensions of a Two-State Agreement between Israel and Palestine.
Stephanie Rhodes is an American living in Jerusalem and coordinating Palestinian media development projects. She is a former member of Episcopal Church Committee on the Status of Women.

"A Natural Growth Model" - by Stephanie Rhodes

One of the most disillusioning things about working in a less-developed country is realizing how often projects are driven by what donors want to fund rather than by what people would like to develop. It's saccharine and inorganic -- a laboratory product instead of a natural harvest. That's not to say that the big donors don't do any good. It's more that they rarely seem fresh or exciting. They provide necessary calories with a long shelf life. They're staples, for sure, but can you ever really thrive on them alone?

Sometimes people approach me with their ideas for small development projects, wondering if I know anyone who could help fund something like that. Typically, my response is, no, but I'll keep an eye out for something. I want to help, but I'm never really sure where to send them.

For example, there's a grocer in Bethlehem who has built an ice cream production project on the side. He uses only local products, except for the cones, and blends more westernized flavors with adaptations of traditional Mediterranean region recipes. He found sponsors to learn the art of gelato in Italy, but now he needs help covering the equipment costs while he gets ice cream production and sales fully operational. His success would also mean a couple more jobs, plus ongoing sales for local suppliers of dairy products and whatever else one puts in ice cream. But the startup part is hard.

Yet it's the sort of thing one parish could easily cover. The trick is finding ways for them to connect.

So, as one person or one parish, find a place that captures your imagination. Build relationships on the ground with both locals and expatriates. Figure out what you need to see to make sure that you're comfortable with what your money's doing. Decide on your model of transparency rather than on your model for a project.

Invite interesting, local ideas, and watch them grow.

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.

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