Where the Desert Meets the Sea

by Werner Sonne

valley again. “How was the mukhtar?” Yael asked in a weary voice. “Conciliatory.” “I don’t think this peace is going to last long,” Yael replied. Judith set her hands in her lap. “How long has the village actually been there?” “The village? No idea. For ages. Under the crusaders, under the Turks, now under the British. The Arabs have simply had to comply. They get by, just barely. You saw it yourself, all poor, mostly illiterate, the way it’s always been.” “But—” Judith’s voice hung in the air. “But what?” “But it is their homeland, after all. You just said they’ve been living here for centuries.” “Yeah? So?” “I mean, now here we come. No wonder they’re scared we’re going to take it away from them.” Yael straightened up. “Judith, they’ve been here all along, but Jews have too. For thousands of years. We’re definitely not religious here on the kibbutz, you know that. But we are Jews, and we do intend to finally have our own homeland. Where we don’t have to keep apologizing for merely existing. Where we won’t be exiled or exterminated. If the Arabs can understand that, there’s enough room for all of us.” “And if not?” Judith interjected. “Then we’ll defend our ground. With all available means. We built this land up, working with our hands, hard goddamn work, every day. And we don’t have any intention of giving it all up again. Imagine sending all those refugees back—refugees like you, Judith. No country will take them. Where would they even go? Camps?” For a while, only the ...