The Jerusalem Knock-Out
By Moshe Feiglin
“Shalom, this is Gideon Levi from the Ha’aretz newspaper,” said the voice on the other end of the phone line. “On Sunday, I will be moderating a symposium on the topic of Jerusalem. Health Minister Yuli Tamir will be there, Faisal Husseini from the Palestinian Authority will speak, and I will be happy if you would also come,” he says.
The Jerusalem Theatre is filled with Jerusalem leftists — all sorts of “human rights” types. A film depicting the suffering of Jerusalem’s Arabs under the Israeli occupation is screened. At the end, the audience is palpably angry.
“I am honored to present the Jerusalemite who holds the Education portfolio in the Palestinian Authority, Dr. Faisal Husseini,” says Gideon Levi. Loud applause accompanies Husseini as he ascends the steps and seats himself near the small coffee table at center stage. “Our second guest is Health Minister Professor Yuli Tamir.” The honorable minister also enjoys loud applause as she sits next to Husseini. “And our third guest, Mr. Moshe Feiglin.” I don’t hear any catcalls, but the absolute silence shouts even louder. I walk between the rows of seats to the stage. But before I could ascend the stairs, Husseini gets up, stands at the top of the steps and greets me with his outstretched hand. His hand remains in the air. I ignore him and seat myself next to Yuli Tamir.
“Before we begin our discussion,” Levi says, “I must ask you a question, Mr. Feiglin. A respectable, mature person gets up in your honor and wishes to shake your hand. Why don’t you respond in kind?” “Mr. Husseini is my enemy,” I answer simply. “He wants my Jerusalem. Would you shake the hand of someone who demands your home?”
The discussion begins. Husseini speaks about his family who has lived in Jerusalem for 600 years. He speaks of the good neighborly relations between the Arabs and Jews, depicting the pastoral Garden of Eden that existed in Jerusalem before the Jewish conquest. “When the occupation will end,” he concludes his words to the vigorous nodding of Minister Tamir, “we will once again live in peace.”
“You know what, Faisal?” I turn to Husseini in a friendly tone. “We have something in common that nobody else in this auditorium shares.” Husseini looks at me in surprise. The audience becomes alert, waiting for peace to break out in the hall. “I think that you and I are the only people in this entire auditorium that believe in G-d,” I continue. “You do believe in G-d, isn’t that correct, Mr. Husseini?” Husseini nods his agreement. “Now look,” I continue. “I have brought a Bible with me. This is my holy book.” I take a Bible out of my briefcase and place it on the coffee table. “Jerusalem appears in my holy book more than 800 times. You can count if you would like.” Husseini nods his head, looking confused.
“I also brought another book,” I continue as I pull a Koran that I had borrowed from the library out of my briefcase. “This is a Koran. It is your holy book. Is that correct?” Husseini nods his agreement. I place the Koran on the coffee table next to the Bible. “Can you please count how many times Jerusalem appears in your holy book? You will not have to work hard, because it doesn’t appear at all. Now tell me — to whom does Jerusalem belong? To the People of the Bible or the People of the Koran?”
To my surprise, the audience begins to applaud. This is the language with which we will retain our sovereignty over Jerusalem.