The Tower of David, located near the Jaffa Gate entrance to the Old City of Jerusalem, is one of those museums that is not designed for control freaks.
On a quiet afternoon, you walk around ancient stones, discover stairs that keep surprising you, stroll down pathways that lead to yet another ancient structure. All along, you’re navigating various multi-media “exhibitions” that try to describe a city that can’t be described.
That might be my takeaway from my recent visit: Don’t try to make sense of this city. Don’t look to “frame” it in a way that will make it easier to digest.
Jerusalem is not meant to be digestible. It’s meant to confuse, arouse, marvel, complicate, stimulate…did I mention confuse?
For about an hour or two, you’re asked to absorb centuries upon centuries of kings, armies, religions and empires taking turns trying to take control of the center of the world.
Your mind spins.
When was the Mamluk period again? Did it come before or after the Ottoman empire? How about the Hasmonean, Herodian, Byzantine and early Muslim periods? Which ones got destroyed by the Crusaders? Remind me again who destroyed the two Temples? And how did they get all that water to go up a hill?
The brain overload is interrupted by moments of easy pleasure, like a stunning film montage of today’s Jerusalem that is home to the world’s three major religions. It almost makes you forget how they were at each other’s throat for millennia.
Maybe that’s why the museum is such a confusing experience. It’s not just the impossibly complicated history– it’s also the stark contrast with today.
A few minutes from the Tower of David, for example, is the Mamilla retail promenade that features names like Dior, Pierre Cardin, Nike, Tommy Hilfinger, Diesel, Guess and Rolex. You might as well be on Rodeo Drive.
A foreign tourist might also be intrigued by the presence of so many Israeli Arabs, some with Muslim garb, happily strolling down the promenade and enjoying the cafes and restaurants. It’s a Jewish state, but hardly anyone notices. They fit right in.
When your eyes are swiftly transported from the ancient stones of the Bible to the modern stores of Mamilla, it’s tempting to look at the tortured history of this city and say, “Who cares about the past? What matters is that today things seem to be OK.”
Well, yes, they do. You walk the streets of this city of dreams and see people from around the world, whether Jewish, Christian or Muslim, whether Ethiopian, Russian or Moroccan, and you want to say, “Yes, things seem to be OK.”
Of course, we know they’re not. Things are never OK in this war-torn nation. Strolling through streets hardly gives you a full picture. The threat of violence is never too far away. The bomb shelters are always at the ready– and everyone knows it. It hangs in the air.
Still, after two hours of head-spinning stories about this bewildering city, it feels therapeutic to walk around and see things that are easy to describe—things like ordinary people just going about their lives.
Shabbat shalom from the center of the world.
