Denver man recalls siege in Bethlehem

Joe Mahoney © News

Larry Hales, of the Colorado Campaign for Middle East Peace, was one of the activists who spent a month in Bethlehem's Church of the Nativity.

Seven months ago, Larry Hales dodged barbed wire and a tank in Bethlehem's Manger Square. Ignoring the shouts of soldiers, he dashed toward the Church of the Nativity, and into the darkness.

"Inside, you could feel the Palestinians but you couldn't see them, it was so dark," the 25-year-old said last week, as he remembered the eight days he spent in the besieged church.

"You could feel bodies. They would tap you on the back, they would grab your hand and shake your hand and say 'thank you.' So you could really feel them."

As Christmas approaches, Hales thinks of the people caught in the Palestinian-Israeli conflict that he met outside the church, and the man he watched die on its floor.

Hales, a recent graduate of the University of Colorado at Denver, was one of 10 members of the peace group called the International Solidarity Movement who ran into the church May 2. The group carried food meant for Palestinians holed up there during an Israeli incursion into the city.

Instead of leaving immediately, the activists chose to stay inside until the Palestinians - some Bethlehem civilians, some whom the Israeli government labeled as terrorists - were allowed to leave peacefully. In the process, the activists increased the complexity of an already tense international situation and collected stories they continue to tell.

Hales' trip was funded by the Denver-based Colorado Campaign for Middle East Peace. Hales had followed the history of the conflict, but had never traveled to the Middle East. He was once active in the Nation of Islam, but left the Muslim religion in 1994, and eventually made it to Colorado.

"When I had a talk with the chief organizer at CCMEP, I told him I thought it might be good for a black person from the South who's not Muslim anymore, who's not Jewish, to go over and be seen as an outsider," he said. "There's an importance of 'outsiders' being involved in a struggle."

He wasn't sure what to expect. "Even going over on the plane I didn't know exactly what we'd be doing," he said. "I'd heard that we would escort ambulances, help in hospitals, meet with Israeli and Palestinian activists. But the Bethlehem thing? That was a surprise."

The group first met in Jerusalem, and spent time at two hospitals in Hebron. The activists then set out for Bethlehem. Before heading to the church, they bought food and were given supplies by local families - Christians and Muslims.

"Before we left, the Christian family we met just said, 'Take this. Thank you. God Bless You,'" Hales said.

After being turned away once at the door of the Church of the Nativity, the group refocused and tried again several days later. Twenty-five activists ran toward the church, then split off, Hales said, confusing the soldier who stood guard near the entrance, the place called the Door of Humility.

"There was a lot of adrenaline. I probably shook that entire day. We didn't go to sleep that night until two or three in the morning," Hales said.

"They put us in the grotto. The place where Jesus was supposed to have been born. They said that in case the soldiers invade, that would be the safest place to be."

Inside the church, priests continued their daily rituals as their lawyer tried to negotiate for the release of the Palestinians, who had been inside for more than a month. Muslims continually prayed on the floor.

The activists quickly bonded with the Palestinians, Hales said, sharing stories, trying to forget the smells, the hunger, the frustration inside the church.

"Things became routine," he said, "Go to bed, get up, go to an outside area that was away from the sniper crane so we could brush our teeth, then sit down and talk."

"We were sitting in a semicircle talking when we heard it," he said. "We ran upstairs and Khalaf (a 40-year-old Palestinian security force member) was on his back, and still alive at that point. He was saying his prayers to himself. The priests started calling outside, trying to get him out. It took an hour, and by that time you could tell he was going to die."

Soon afterwards the standoff ended. Hales was detained briefly and then expelled from the country. Hales has spent time in Texas, working with youth, and soon plans to enter graduate school in New York. Eventually, he says, he wants to teach high school creative writing.

And as this Christmas comes to Bethlehem, he said he'll remember the people who are still there.

"When we first entered the church, we moved into the nave where there was light," Hales said. "The first person to talk was a man named Josef. He was one of the two black Palestinians there. He reminded me of my uncle, who passed away on my birthday, four months before I left," he said.

"He said he was shocked that we were there. He thought everyone outside had forgotten."