While a rain of bombs fell on the Gaza Strip and Israeli citizens lived from air raid siren to air raid siren, hundreds of thousands of believers in the Netherlands went to their mosque, church or synagogue this weekend. More than other conflicts, a conflict in the Middle East touches these communities – each deeply rooted in this region – at their core.
Do these places of worship adapt their liturgy accordingly or do they choose to leave the explosive theme aside? NRC visited a mosque, a synagogue and a church. To achieve a good comparison, three communities were chosen that profile themselves as “modern” or “contemporary”.
Friday October 13, 1:30 PM
Ulu Mosque in Utrecht
Actually, Ömer Arisoy (23) and Bünyamin Bayaz (16) expected that today it would be more about the war between Israel and Hamas. But during Friday prayers in the Utrecht Ulu Mosque, with 4,500 square meters of floor space the largest Islamic prayer house in the Netherlands, there is no deviation from the usual texts. “The imam did call for wisdom in the prayer for all leaders involved in this, but that was it.” They explain the relative silence around the subject out of fear of bad press, “or that the state will ban it.”
NRC was not welcome during Friday prayers in Utrecht. A request to visit the Al Mouahidin Mosque in Ede was also rejected. “It might be an idea not to always wait until something happens before you want to visit a mosque,” says spokesperson Akil Ben Messaoud. Regular visitor Tijani Zallali, in his fifties, states that this conflict is about “humanity” and not about faith. “So why do you come to a mosque for that?”
How the Jews keep taking over territory in the West Bank makes people angry
Ömer Arisoy visitor to Ulu Mosque
After Friday prayers in Utrecht, Ömer and Bünyamin go into the cafeteria under the mosque with their friends. With coffee and Red Bull on the table, they use videos to discuss the conflict that has also shaken up their week. “Oh, oh, oh, oh, Hamas, what are you doing now,” Ömer thought when he saw the first reports about the raid coming in just under a week earlier. “The Middle East has always been a region full of blood. This would only make things worse.” Pulling ordinary people from their homes, capturing them and holding them hostage. “The Prophet would never allow that,” Bünyamin and Ömer both firmly say.
When Bünyamin gives his name to the reporter, Ömer suddenly says enthusiastically: “Bünyamin, Davoud, Moussa. Jews all know those names too!” The observation makes him visibly sad.
Because why, despite all the similarities, do things keep going so wrong in the country where the three Abrahamic religions – Judaism, Christianity, Islam – each have their roots? Ömer: “Jews are simply, how do you say, superior. How they keep taking over territory in the West Bank. That makes people angry.” He tells about “the mines of Solomon” that are located in the land, where ancient treasures are said to be hidden that the Jews want to appropriate.
Also read this article: How did the conflict between Israel and Hamas arise? Ten questions and answers
Three bearded men from the radical Islamic organization Hizb ut-Tahrir, who wait outside mosque goers with leaflets, also mention this anger. The organization, banned in Germany and monitored in the Netherlands by the AIVD, has been advocating for years an Islamic state led by a caliph with armies from the Muslim countries around Israel to the Al Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem. They expect more from real armies than from terrorist organizations like Hamas. “But Hamas’ attack did give hope,” says one of the leafleters, who does not want to give his name.
Ömer and Bünyamin see nothing in fighting or demonstrating. “We can only pray.” Somewhat shyly, they admit that they cannot always fulfill the obligatory five prayers. “But I notice that I need it more now,” says Bünyamin. “Mine duas [smeekbedes] have also become more intense since this week. I experience them more. I think of all the victims.”
Saturday, October 14, 10:00 am
Liberal Jewish community in Amsterdam
In the hall of the synagogue in Amsterdam’s Rivierenbuurt there is still a stack of a public letter addressed to Prime Minister Netanyahu in which he is called on by the movement of progressive Jews in the Netherlands to keep the rule of law intact. The letter testifies to a completely different reality, from only a week ago.
Because on this first one Shabbat since terrorist organization Hamas during Simchat Torah – the festive end of the religious year in which the “Joy of the Law” is sung – when Israel invaded, during the regular prayer for Israel, in addition to the prayer for judges and representatives, there is also a prayer for Israel’s soldiers.
It turns out to be a conscious adjustment, just like the addition a little later in the liturgy in which peace is prayed not only between Jews, but also between Jews and Muslims. “Please,” says Rabbi Menno ten Brink afterwards, “write that down. Hamas must disappear, there is no doubt about that. But this is not a battle between Jews and Muslims. Muslims are just as much victims of Hamas.” When he hears that a day earlier it was suggested at the mosque that Jews in Israel would search for ancient treasures of King Solomon, the rabbi sighs deeply. “These are myths that have nothing to do with Jews or Judaism. It sounds like well-known anti-Jewish comments.”
This is not a battle between Jews and Muslims. Muslims are just as much victims of Hamas
Menno ten Brink rabbi
The liturgy continues in the synagogue business as usual, although the war 3,500 kilometers away regularly sneaks in between us. In subordinate clauses with references – “especially at this time” is heard several times – in the choice of the congregation member who removes the Torah scrolls from the ark and in the choice of congregation members who sing the texts: this Saturday the choice falls on congregation members from Israel.
And even if it’s not about the conflict, it’s still about that. In the story of Job, for example, who laments his fate, it is difficult not to hear the sighs of an entire people.
There are also two Muslim women in the shul this Saturday, friends of the family who are celebrating the bat mitzvah of their twelve-year-old twin daughters today. “You are our bright spots,” the rabbi emotionally addresses the twins. This Sabbath the entire Jewish community begins reading the Torah again. Out the text Bereshite (the Hebrew name for the Bible book of Genesis, with which the Torah begins) that is central to the service is the well-known story of Cain and Abel, the two brothers who quarrel about who is most loved by God. “We recognize that jealousy,” the girls say laughing during the speech, in which they explain their entrance as religiously mature members of the community.
Rabbi Ten Brink calls the conflict between the two – Cain kills Abel – “the archetypal version of Hamas. If those two had just sat down at the table to say it, I could have read a completely different text today.” If only Cain were a little more curious, he muses. “Like you,” after which he points to the twins again. He sounds wistful when he says: “We should work together, build the country.” The two bat mitzvah girls determinedly promise the community “that our generation wants to contribute to a world in which no one needs to be trained for war.”
“Above all else, we draw strength from the shul,” says secretary Ralph Levie. “From each other and from the words. And we continue to celebrate our festivals,” he says, gesturing to the festive lunch presented to the congregation by the bat mitzvah parents. After pronouncing the kiddushthe blessing over the wine, he says to the toasting community: “Lechaim. To life.”
Sunday October 15, 11:00 amMosaic055 in Apeldoorn
Mozaïek055 meets in a sports hall in Apeldoorn, the local branch of a new church community that has now established itself in about ten places, mainly in the Dutch Bible belt. The visitors are predominantly young and full of children; the children’s activity is so full that a contingent at the back of the room is presented with a coloring page, because there is no more room in the children’s service. “Everyone is welcome with us, just as you are,” is what comes from the mouth of Cheryl Bazoer, the also young church member who leads the service from the stage in the absence of the pastor due to illness. “Whether you celebrated this week or have a lot of stress in your body.”
The worship band’s repertoire is full of references to Israel. For example, God becomes like Yahweh or Prince of Peace, the kingdom of God is called Zion. There is also no shortage of military metaphors. They sing about castles, shields, rescue and protection. Moreover, the only Bible text that appears in the service, Psalm 62, is about David fleeing from his enemies.
But nowhere in the service is there any reference to current events. The numerous military Israel references appear to refer to “inner peace”, several visitors say afterwards. “I need that support,” says one of them.
Is the absence of current events deliberate? Occasional pastor Bazoer is shocked by the question. “It just slipped in. This was discussed in the prayer groups this week. And I really intended to, but something came up.” Should this have happened? “Yes, Israel is the people of God. We could have prayed for that. And also for all those other victims. This is quite an evaluation point.”
Also read this article: The Israeli ‘social contract’ of security has been broken. What choices does Netanyahu now face?