Compassion in No Man’s Land

April 2, 2014

The French Hospital of St. Louis on Paratroopers Road marks the former cease-fire line along No Man’s Land.
Photo by Andrew Pilcher Jerusalem’s Paratroopers Road is one of the busiest streets in the city. As the demarcation between the Municipality of Jerusalem and the Old City Walls, it is the line where east (Jerusalem) meets west (Jerusalem); where tourists in shorts and flip-flops mingle with religious Jews in fur hats and Orthodox Christians in flowing liturgical robes…all bustling to and fro near the famous Jaffa Gate. In the shadow of the ancient walls, picturesque plazas are interspersed with beds of brilliantly colored flowers, while the city’s light rail adds to the incredible collision of ancient and modern. A lovely, vibrant scene indeed. However, it wasn’t always so. In 1955, when our story takes place, the area was called No Man’s Land. And if those walls could talk, they would tell us a tale of a city divided by violence and war yet somehow held together by a spirit of goodness that refused to be defeated, a spirit that became conspicuous from time to time…around mysterious objects like false teeth and soccer balls.

An Uneasy Truce

Moshe Dayan and Abdullah el Tell reach a cease-fire agreement, November 30, 1948 in Jerusalem. In 1948, during Israel’s War for Independence, No Man’s Land was created by an agreement between Moshe Dayan, commander of the Israeli forces in Jerusalem, and his Jordanian counterpart Abdullah el Tell. The lines were roughly and informally marked out on a map, Israel’s positions in red and Jordan’s in green. They were unofficial and meant to be a temporary means to restore some degree of normalcy to life on both sides; however, when the war ended in 1949, they were accepted as final cease-fire lines, and the area between the two became No Man’s Land. Unlike today, there was nothing there but swampland frequented by jackals, covered with twisted barbed wire, concrete barriers and land mines.

From 1949 to 1967, a very uneasy truce existed between the parties, monitored by the UN Mixed Armistice Commission. On the Jordanian side, snipers patrolled atop the city walls, often firing on civilians. On the other side, Israel Defense Forces (IDF) soldiers, French priests and nuns lived together in separate quarters at the Church of Notre Dame. Tensions ran high along the armistice line and one thing was certain: no one entered No Man’s Land without getting shot at.

The Church of Notre Dame de France actually served as one of the biggest IDF military positions and observation posts of the war. Even though its outer walls had been very badly damaged during the fighting, part of it blown up completely, it was still a dominating structure which commanded the surrounding area. It was, after all, one of the largest single structures in all of Jerusalem, with 410 rooms able to house 1,600 people. Right next door stood the French Hospital of St. Louis, another of the city’s most magnificent buildings. Founded in the mid-19th century by the Sisters of Saint Joseph, it was staffed by pious yet feisty nuns who faithfully served both pilgrims and locals.

Compassion in the Midst of War

No Man’s Land in Jerusalem, between Israel and Jordan, c.1964 showing the Old City wall and the Tower of David
www.wikipedia.org/Etan J. Tal It was those feisty nuns who personified the spirit of compassion and determination that marks Jerusalem to this day. As reported in LIFE Magazine in July of 1956, patient Miriam Zahedi stood on the roof of the French Hospital to get some midday sun when she was suddenly seized with a coughing spasm. She coughed into a piece of paper and then tossed it over the wall. But as it tumbled into No Man’s Land, she realized that it contained her false teeth. Miriam was devastated; hiding in her room, she refused to speak for five days.

A priest at the hospital was informed of the situation and immediately set about coming to Miriam’s aid. He approached the IDF Junior Officer on the Mixed Armistice Commission, Shmuel Levinson, and related his tale of woe. Shmuel immediately called the French UN officer monitoring the cease-fire. He in turn checked with the Jordanians, who gave their go-ahead for the retrieval of Miriam’s teeth. Both sides then agreed to a temporary cease-fire that would allow a contingent to enter No Man’s Land.

Three very brave nuns were accompanied by Israeli and Jordanian officers and a representative of the UN as they entered the land mine-infested area. Jordanian and Israeli solders monitored from above, perched on either side of the dividing wall. A French major was also part of the contingent, walking between the Israeli and Jordanian soldiers and waving a white flag. Amazingly, among the rubble the teeth were found, and a glowing and courageous nun returned them to a very delighted Miriam, while Israelis, Jordanians and Frenchmen slapped each other on the back in congratulations. For just a moment, compassion reigned in the midst of war and destruction.

Indomitable Spirit Refuses Defeat

Photo by Kathy DeGagne Today, Jerusalem continues to battle for her existence. There are those who would again divide the city, and although there is technically no war, terror and death still stalk the city walls. But linger for a moment on Paratroopers Road as Jews, Christians and Arabs mingle busily together. One helps an elderly lady across the street, another assists a young mother with her baby stroller, another picks up a dropped parcel and chases its owner down the street. In the French Hospital, Catholic nuns oversee Israeli staff and volunteers as they care for Jews, Christians and Arabs, most of them terminally ill. Take a deep breath, remember Miriam’s teeth and take heart. That same indomitable spirit, the spirit of the city of Jerusalem where the Lord of the Universe says He has placed His name forever, still refuses to be defeated.

Soccer Balls Gone Astray

Bryan Solomon/Shutterstock.com The College Frères, another French institution established in the mid-19th century, was a school for Arab children. It bordered No Man’s Land, and as they played in the courtyard, their soccer balls were often kicked into the forbidden area, never to be seen again. In December of 1965, observed by UN officials, an Israeli soldier entered the minefield to retrieve the balls. Jordanian soldiers perched on the walls above shouted “go left” or “go right” to prevent him from stepping on land mines. That year, the school children received a remarkable Christmas gift…28 soccer balls compliments of the IDF.