A Palestinian Catholic mother seeks deliverance from a wall that is squeezing the life out of Jesus’ birthplace

By Patrick Downes | Hawaii Catholic Herald

Claire Anastas in Honolulu on Nov. 15.

You can see the desperation in Claire Anastas’ eyes as she talks about her family being “buried alive” by a 26-foot high concrete wall. She is desperate enough to come half way around the world to try and save them.

Anastas, a Palestinian Catholic mother of four, lives in Bethlehem. The wall is the security barrier erected by the Israeli government between the Palestinian territories and Israel. It threads its way for hundreds of miles through neighborhoods, across streets and thoroughfares and even around buildings.

One of those buildings is Anastas’s home.

“We are in the most horrible situation,” she told the Hawaii Catholic Herald on Nov. 15. “So horrible. We are surrounded by three sides by the apartheid wall. We are encased completely, alone in a corner.”

“Entombed” is another way she described it.

Anastas is hardly exaggerating. It could be hard to envision it unless you’ve seen the pictures themselves. They show a solitary brick three-story box-like building. A tall dismal gray wall approaches to within 20 feet on one side, then proceeds around it on three sides before snaking its way through the rest of Bethlehem and the West Bank.

The building used to be on a busy spot on the main road at the entrance to Bethlehem from Jerusalem. Now it sits literally in its own dead end.

The barrier, put up to stop terrorists, has cut off the rest of humanity — family and friends, customers and clients. In Claire’s extreme situation, it even blocks the sun, keeping parts of the building in perpetual shadow. Her apartment windows open to a dreary panorama of concrete.

The wall has made life nearly unbearable and a livelihood impossible.

The 54-year old building belongs to her husband Johnny’s family. It used to house his thriving auto mechanic’s business and Claire’s own shop that sold Bethlehem’s renowned religious olive wood carvings.

It is home for 14 people — Claire, her husband Johnny and their four children ages 10-18, her mother-in-law, and her brother-in-law and his family.

Johnny is still in business, though barely. All his Jerusalem customers have been cut off. He can’t relocate his shop because the wall is so close to the building he can’t remove his large equipment.

Claire’s business was forced to close, along with many others in the neighborhood.

That spot used to be a bustling one, according to Anastas, with “all kinds of shops and restaurants” for residents, pilgrims and tourists.

University of Hawaii student Morgan Cooper met Anastas this past summer while traveling through the West Bank territories gathering oral testimony for her master’s thesis from Palestinian women “about how the wall affects their daily lives.”

She found Claire by walking along the wall.

“Follow the wall and you will get stuck at their house,” Cooper said.

She knocked on the door, heard the painful story and knew she had to do something.

When she relayed Anastas’s plight to “American missionaries” she met in Israel, she was “disgusted” when they simply “shook her hand and said good luck.”

Cooper couldn’t do that.

“As a human being, I have an imperative to help this woman,” she said.

And so, jeopardizing her master’s degree and “maxing out her credit card,” Cooper brought Claire to San Francisco where her parents are officers with the Salvation Army and then, with financial help from others, to Hawaii, from Nov. 6 to 21, to give her a chance to rescue her livelihood.

Many generations in Bethlehem

Anastas, 39, was born in Bethlehem near the Church of the Nativity, the basilica that marks the birthplace of Jesus. She has lived in Bethlehem and neighboring Jerusalem all her life. Her family— her maiden name is Bandak — has been there for so many generations she does not know how long.

She wants to remain in Bethlehem but is not sure if that is possible. Palestinian Christians, caught in the conflict between the Israelis and the Palestinians, have been leaving in droves. It is estimated that they are now less than 2 percent of the population, down from 40 percent just a decade ago.

Archbishop Fouad Twal, the coadjutor of the Latin Patriarchate of Jerusalem, said it is important for Christians to remain in the Holy Land.

“Our vocation is to remain despite our small number in the land where Jesus preached, redeemed humanity and founded the church,” he said in July.

Anastas’s concerns are much more personal.

“We are civilians,” she said in her soft Arabic accent. “This is our home.”

She is deeply anxious about her children’s future. She said they have been psychologically damaged by the years of violence and the fear and isolation caused by the wall. When she had a birthday party for her youngest son recently, only one of his 35 classmates showed up, and that sole guest was a relative.

“He doesn’t want to have a birthday anymore,” Anastas said.

There was no consultation before when the wall went up. The initial blockade was set up in a day.

Civil leaders told them nothing could be done about it. “They told us it was a hopeless case,” she said.

The Christian community has received some support from the Catholic patriarchate of Jerusalem Archbishop Michel Sabbah. And Anastas has had help from her Catholic parish of St. Joseph, where the younger children attend school, but the assistance is limited and short term.

The Vatican, alarmed by the hardships caused by the barrier, has urged for an international solution.

Speaking Nov. 8 at the United Nations, the Vatican’s permanent observer to the U.N. Archbishop Celestino Migliore, said that “the numerous incidents of violence and challenges to free movement posed by the (Israeli) security wall” have prompted the Vatican to renew calls for internationally guaranteed provisions that ensure the freedom of religion and conscience for those who live there

The Vatican is pressing for “permanent, free and unhindered access to the holy places by the faithful of all religions and nationalities,” he said.

‘We need to do something’

In the meantime, Anastas can’t wait. She prays and prays. She carries with her a worn Arabic prayerbook with the image of the Divine Mercy Jesus on the front and Saint Faustina on the back.

She feels her family’s future now rests on her shoulders. “It’s our responsibility, we need to do something.”

She knows she can’t remove the wall, much less bring peace to that deeply troubled land. Her motivation is not political, it’s maternal.

And it’s simple. She wants to reopen her shop. She wants pilgrims to visit Bethlehem. She wants to return to making a living selling olive wood carvings, so that she can have a livelihood for herself and a future for her family.

That’s why Anastas agreed to come to Hawaii, 12,000 miles from home, allowing herself to be shuttled back and forth between interviews and talks.

“I am hoping I can do something,” she said. “They are waiting for me there. I need to do something.”

“We wish to live in peace,” she said. “This is what we are asking for, nothing else.”

Write to Claire Anastas directly at claireanastas@gmail.com, or visit her website at www.anastas-bethlehem.com. Some of Claire Anastas’ olive wood carvings are being sold by the Cathedral Gallery just mauka of the Cathedral of Our Lady of Peace in downtown Honolulu. Call 536-7036 for information. Or write to her Hawaii contact, Morgan Cooper, at morganbcooper@gmail.com.