BBC - Around the World - Ariel's 'Foreign Bureau' - 5 October 2004

by Barbara Plett, News correspondent, Jerusalem, 5 October 2004

When I head to the office for early TV live broadcasts, I catch Jerusalem at its best: sunlight glancing off the rough surface of the stone and arched windows of old Arab houses, embracing me in a numinous golden glow.

At such times I can almost believe this is a holy city, that the sacred does infuse the ancient church rituals, the calls to prayer from the soaring mosques and the persistent worship at the Jewish Wailing Wall.

A lot of my experience here, though, has been quite unholy.

When I arrived three and a half years ago at the height of the Palestinian intifada, I barely had time to do anything other than churn endless tales of conflict, fighting for space in a bureau inundated with visitors from every imaginable programme in London.

Adjusting to the new work climate took almost as much energy as the relentless story.

It was the first time I’d been part of a big BBC bureau after years of stringing. I found I could do more and less: more because I had the help of bureau resources and supportive staff, less because of the intricate formula dividing up which correspondent did what and for whom

And all under the scrutiny of the players, wedded to their own narratives about this 100-year war over a small piece of land. The Israelis insist this intifada is a terror campaign waged by people who’ve rejected a peaceful solution to divide the territory and now want to take it all by force.

The Palestinians say it’s a revolt against an illegal occupation and a classic form of settler colonialism that keeps swallowing land they want for a state. The difficulty is trying to do justice to both sides.

I’ve seen the devastation wreaked by Palestinian suicide bombers in Israeli buses and restaurants, killing innocents in an instant, forever scarring the lives of families they leave behind.

I’ve lived under siege in the West Bank city of Ramallah, snatching hours of freedom between days of curfew as Palestinians rushed to buy food and bury their dead, aware that one false move could bring a shot to the head from a hidden Israeli sniper.

I’ve watched the destruction of Palestinian society as Israel uses its military strength to obliterate what it sees as any threat to its existence, most recently with the wall it’s building in the occupied West Bank.

The wall has helped reduce suicide bombings, but at a price. It cuts through Palestinian pastures and communities, leaving them caged and struggling to survive while Israelis flock back to their cafes and restaurants.

Despite the grimness, this remains a compelling place to work, particularly when I do those stories that don’t make the headlines: whether it’s talking about the social programmes of the Islamic movement Hamas in Gaza, or the messianic fervour of certain Jewish settlers in the West Bank.

For me that’s what journalism should be about: getting the facts right, but also the meaning of the facts, as understood by the peoples that make them and, in Jerusalem, live, fight and die over them.