This week marks a time of intense and polarizing debate in the Arab-Israeli conflict. Dueling op-eds and demonstrations on campus have tempers flaring, accusations flying, and generalizations abounding. As a Spectator sportswriter who has spent a good deal of time in the Holy Land over the past several years, I think I can make a positive contribution to the debate.
You may be wondering what a column about Arab-Israeli relations is doing on the sports page. I contend that in a highly inflamed and tense region, where mistrust and racism runs rampant on every side, sports have the ability to equalize. Soccer rules are universal—even Arabs and Israelis can’t fight about them. The Israeli state’s relations with its Arab minority are certainly problematic—for that matter, so are its relations with other minorities, such as Ethiopian Jews and ultra-Orthodox Jews. But Arab-Jewish integration in sports is beginning to occur at a grassroots level. Just putting Arabs and Jews on the same soccer pitch is a huge step forward in a conflict where the “enemy” is often stereotyped and completely faceless.
For three months at the end of 2006, I lived in the northern city of Acre, one of Israel’s mixed Arab-Jewish towns. The Second Lebanon War had recently concluded and communities in the north were still recovering. I imagine that during a time of conflict, ethnic integration must have produced a sort of leveling sentiment. After all, when Hezbollah was aiming unguided Katyusha rockets at Acre and other northern cities, it would have been awfully hard just to target the Jews.
Rockets rained down on Acre’s town center in several spates during the war. One landed just outside a kindergarten. Air-raid sirens frequently sent all residents, Jewish and Arab alike, to the shelters. On August 3, 2006, five people were killed when a salvo of rockets struck the center of town.
Eleven days later the war was over, and two weeks after that I moved to Acre to live at a naval academy just steps outside the old city walls. Surprisingly, life seemed normal. I learned quickly that some neighborhoods were mostly Jewish and some were mostly Arab, but the city was just like any other: you’re safe unless you’re out alone late at night.
During my time in Acre, one of the most memorable and inspiring moments for me came at the end of a long evening walk with some friends. Returning to the academy through a mixed neighborhood, we passed by a group of young teenagers in sports uniforms kicking a few soccer balls around. The uniforms were red and the writing was in both Hebrew and Arabic. I don’t even remember if the kids were Arab or Jewish—maybe there were some of each—but that wasn’t the point. It seems there was a youth league that was bringing Arabs and Jews together on the soccer field. That is the sort of institution that will lay the necessary groundwork for peace.
On my next trip to Israel, in the summer of 2008, I spent an afternoon with a tour group in the town of Sakhnin. The town hosts Bnei Sakhnin, Israel’s most successful professional soccer club based in an all-Arab city. The Bnei Sakhnin roster is completely integrated—with names such as Cohen, Saleh, Weitzman, Raiya, and Danalache, a quick internet search reveals the team’s makeup to be roughly one-third Jewish, one-third Arab, and one-third foreign. The club’s unique status has given it a cult following and attracted important sponsorships from diverse sources such as a wealthy Russian-Israeli businessman, the emir of Qatar, and a major Israeli mobile phone provider. The team’s 2004 victory in the State Cup serves as a testament to the promises of integration, dialogue, and teamwork.
I went to Israel once more to study abroad in 2010. This time I lived in Jerusalem—Israel’s largest city—which has high populations of both Arabs and Jews. While there, I discovered the existence of a nascent tackle football league with eight teams from across the country. Since the league is heavily sponsored by Robert Kraft, CC ’63, I pitched the story to Spectator’s sports editor and wrote up a feature that ran in April. In my research, I learned that most of the league’s organizers are American. Most of its players are Israeli. But not everyone is Jewish.
Don’t believe everything you read in the newspapers and see on campus this week. The situation in Israel and the Palestinian territories is very difficult and very complicated. I saw some terrible things and heard some terrible stories throughout my travels. But I also saw young people, Arab and Jewish, coming together to play on sports fields in various towns all over the country. Finally, Arabs and Jews are meeting each other and forging relationships and going out for a beer after a tough game. Is it unreasonable to be optimistic for their future?

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