Lemon Tree, The

Jews and Arabs have been fighting for thousands of years. Palestine was a land without people for a people without land. Palestine was a desolate wasteland before the Jews came and made it prosper and thrive. All those myths and more I've grown up with all my life and never questioned - never thought to question - until recently. I suppose I should start by putting my "liberal bias" on the table at the outset. I became interested in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict through reading articles on [...]. I then searched around Amazon for some basic introductory works on the conflict. I've read a couple children's books (see my other reviews), one of which recommended this book. I never did find a book that both sides agree is "unbiased", but this seemed like the closest possibility since it is an account, largely in their own words, of two families - one Israeli, one Palestinian - and their encounter, conflict, and ultimate friendship because of a shared house and a shared history. Sandy Tolan went looking for a way to humanize the story of the Palestinian-Israeli conflict, and he found the perfect narrative. Ahmad Khairi built a house of white Jerusalem stone on land in al-Ramla which his family had owned for generations. Most of his many children were born in that house. He planted a lemon tree in the backyard. In 1948, in a war known to the Israelis as the War of Independence and to the Palestinians as the "Nabka" or "Catastrophe", he and his family, along with most of the Arab populations of al-Ramla and many other Palestinian towns, were driven from their homes into exile - in Jordan, Gaza, and finally Ramallah. The house was declared "abandoned", the owners "absentee". A few years later, seeking the stability of a Jewish homeland following the Holocaust, Moshe Eshkenazi, his wife and young daughter eventually end up in Ramle, Jewish street names having replaced the ages old Arabic names. They end up, of course, in the Khairi's house, enjoying the Khairi's lemon tree. But to the Eshkenazis, the property is simply abandoned, left behind by Arabs who were too cowardly to defend their own homes. Innocent young Dalia then grows up cradled in Zionist mythology. As a young girl, she climbs on the fence built by Ahmad Khairi and rips off the Muslim crescent he had placed there. Still, young Dalia Eskanazi actually grows up to be tolerant and compassionate. She defends her darker skin schoolmates, she stands up for Palestinian rights and, in 1967, when a knock comes at her door, she answers it, allowing Ahmad Khairi's oldest son Bashir to see and explore his family's old house. The two form an intense connection both despite and because of their disparate yet shared histories. The most powerful scene of the book comes around 160 when Dalia and Bashir meet at his family's "temporary" Ramallah house and discuss the solution to the Palestinian-Israeli conflict and we see, in stark terms, the insolubility of the conflict. The unstoppable force meeting the immovable object. For Dalia, despite her compassion and even her recognition of the wrongs done to the Palestinians, is still a Jew, born of Zionist parents and raised in Zionist culture. Israel is her homeland, the Khairi's house is her house. Leaving is not an option. For Bashir, born a Palestinian and nurtured in exile on Palestinian grievances, there is likewise no backing down. Palestine is his family's ancestral land, the house with the lemon tree is his house, and his lemon tree. The book does not present any neat packages or tidy up any details. Tolan presents his subjects as realistically as possible, having exhaustively interviewed them and researched their history. We see them warts and all - sometimes sympathetic, sometimes not so much. Despite my inclination toward the Khairi's "side", for instance, I find their view of girls and women to be distasteful and I find myself "liking" the Eshkenazis better. The Khairis had to go through eight girls before they finally got their precious son, who immediately upstaged all his sisters. The Eskanazis, on the other hand, wanted a daughter and treasured her above all else from day one, never looking back with regret that they didn't have a son. Still, though, the question of justice must outweigh personal likes or dislikes. The fact remains that the Palestinians were driven from their homes and lands to make way for a Jewish homeland. Of all people who should be sensitive about discrimination and persecution based on racial and religious factors, it should be the Jews. Yet I often found myself experiencing déjà vu as the Jewish government and their British and American allies treated the indigenous Palestinian people much as they were treated during the Holocaust - buses often serving the same purposes as trains in Europe. But on the other hand (and I'm aware that I'm already out of hands), I can't approve of the tactics of the Palestinian fighters, any more than I approve of the same tactics used by the Israelis. Blowing up Israelis supermarkets is, perhaps, no worse than blowing up hotels, but it is certainly no better, and violence is only going to end up harming both sides. The book never confirms for us whether Bashir was or wasn't involved in the Supersol bombing or other terrorist activities. Dalia assumes he was, but Bashir never confirms it nor does Tolan present definitive evidence either way. If he was involved, it would be understandable. In addition to the pain his family has suffered, Bashir himself lost most of his left hand as a child playing with an explosive "toy" dropped by the Israelis. But Dalia is right that the Palestinians must renounce violence if there is to be peace. Palestinian violence, in addition to harming Israeli civilians, only works against the Palestinians themselves. For every act of Palestinian violence, the Israelis respond tenfold, and it keeps world sympathy (or at least Western sympathy) firmly on the Israeli side. The Israeli occupation of Palestine and their treatment of the Palestinians is an injustice on the scale of the Jim Crow laws in the American South. But it was more Martin Luther King, Jr. than Malcolm X who ended segregation. In the end, both Dalia and Bashir are very sympathetic characters. Dalia gave up her parents house to become a kindergarten for Arab children and an Arab-Israeli peace center. She protests against Israeli excesses and defends the rights of Palestinians, although not the right of return. She believes in a two-state solution - Palestine and Israel living side-by-side in harmony. Bashir is also a sympathetic figure, not least in his friendship with Dalia. He advocates a one-state solution - a secular democracy with representation for all Jews and Arabs (and others). Although he may (or may not) have been actively involved with terrorism, I have to side with Bashir. Creating two ideologically opposite theocracies in a country the size of Israel-Palestine is not a solution to generate peace. Already, roads have been torn up, walls erected, families divided, all in the name of separating one religion from the other. But a secular democracy could - if both sides renounce violence and work together in good faith - moderate the worst of both groups and bring out the best for everyone. Demographically speaking, Israel is becoming more, not less, Arab. The Israelis would be well advised to deal with this reality quickly and equitably. In sum, I highly recommend "The Lemon Tree" to anyone who wants an introductory or more in depth exposure to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. The story of the shared house and shared history of the Khairi and Eshkenazi families gives a human face and understanding to the trove of historical background which illuminates the narrative. Whether you find the book "fair" or "biased", you will come away with new perspectives and, hopefully, a deeper understanding.

Ms. Tolan provides a deeply personal view of the tragic situation in the Middle East. Like many my perception of what was happening was shaped by news reports. There was a time when I viewed the PLO and other Palestinian groups negatively. I was born just as the creation of Israel was happening. Somehow the real history of events was never included in any of the coverage of events as they occurred. Learning how many people were displaced and the way it was done brings a very different appreciation for why the problems continue.

The Lemon Tree by Sandy Tolan is a story about history and reconciliation. If you want a better understanding of the history of the Palestinian/Israeli conflict, read this book. Mr. Tolan gives the reader a detailed history from both perspectives. The reader is trusted to hear the story of Jews who were persecuted in Bulgaria which led many to Israel to seek refuge and find a new better life. We also hear how many Palestinians are kicked out of their homes and the uprisings and conflicts which would follow when the nation of Israel was formed after World War II. The reader becomes engulfed with this rich and troubled history connected to our two main characters: Bashir (a Palestinian Arab) and Dalia (a 2nd generation Bulgarian Israeli). We also see their friendship develop as conflict continues and worsens through numerous decades. You gain a sense of empathy for Bashir, Dalia, and all individuals who's lives have been altered because of the events in Israel and the Holocaust. While it is difficult for us to hear the story of the other, especially in times of conflict. I hope this book opens you to the idea of hearing the other's story and learn their history to gain a broader picture of that person. I hope that individuals who read The Lemon Tree consider ways in which we can try to make a positive impact for not only individuals who have a unique and difficult history attached to their name, throughout the world and those we interact with on a daily bases.

This is the best book I've read on this subject. It gives a lot of background information showing the history of two groups of people who have repeatedly been uprooted and forced to start over. Against this background, it shares the true story of two families, one Arab and one Jewish, who have been impacted by the ongoing conflict. Each family comes to rest and puts down roots on the same piece of land, many years apart; each has reason to think of the land as theirs. Reading this, for the first time, I was able to at least begin to understand the complexity of the conflict. The Lemon Tree (an actual tree growing in the yard the of property in question) is a truly human story with no clearcut right and wrong.

I highly recommend this book. At its heart are two families connected by one home and one lemon tree. In 1948, a Palestinian family was violently expelled from their house in Ramla. A few months later, Dalia’s family—Bulgarian Jews who had fled persecution and the aftermath of the Holocaust—moved in, seeking safety and a new beginning. Nearly twenty years later, the Palestinian son, Bashir, returned and knocked on the door of his former home. Dalia opened it. That meeting between two people, both shaped by loss and displacement, became the beginning of a rare and fragile friendship. Reading this book made me reflect on how deeply human the Israeli-Palestinian conflict really is. Behind the politics and the pain are people—families who dreamed, feared, and hoped just like any of us. I found myself thinking about how empathy can exist even amid history’s hardest truths, and how courage sometimes means just listening to another story. I’m sharing this because it stayed with me long after I closed the last page. It reminded me that understanding doesn’t mean agreement—it means remembering our shared humanity. If you decide to read *The Lemon Tree*, I hope it touches you the way it touched me: with sorrow, with hope, and with a little more compassion for the world we live in.

This is probably the best book I read all year! Who doesn’t have questions about the Israeli / Palestinian conflict??!! This narrative without taking a particular side or agenda presents backgrounds of both nations. IT’s the story of two families, one Israeli, one Palestinian, their encounters, conflicts, friendships and a shared history from dwelling at different times in the same house and neighborhood. Overall the situation is heart breaking and without resolution. But gives me great understanding into the backgrounds of both nations and peoples. So glad my book group suggested this book!

This is not a new book; it was written in 2006, but I stumbled across it while browsing for something interesting to read on my Kindle, and I wasn't dissapointed. In some ways, it is a great deal like 'One Palestine, Complete', by Tom Segev, which was a history of Zionism and the Arab-Israeli conflict from the late 19th century, until partition in 1948 (and a book I highly recommend). The biggest similarity is how the author weaves a very personal tale of the conflict, as seen through the lives of both an Arab, and an Israeli. In 'The Lemon Tree' (subtitled 'An Arab, a Jew, and the Heart of the Middle East'), the author Sandy Tolan provides the true story of Dalia Eshkanazi and her family of refugees from Bulgaria during WWII, and Bashir Khairi, whose family lived in the town of Ramla, in what is now Israel, before the partition. The story describes how the Eshkenazai family, fortunate to have gotten warnings of impending arrest, deportation, and enslavement in death camps by the Nazis, managed to escape from a horror that over 14,000 of her neighbors in Bulgaria could not. It tells of their harrowing journey and escape from near-certain death, to a port city, and then by steamer, to Palestine. It also tells of the story of the Khairi family, a prosperous one living in Ramla, who were summarily forced from their family home, leaving behind nearly all of their posessions, their fields, their harvest, and chased out of Ramla by Jewish paramilitary units, ending up as refugees living an impoverished life in Ramallah. Dalia's family were told to simply pick a house, among the ones abandoned by the refugees, and it would become their family home. They picked the home of Bashir Khairi and his family. Both Dalia and Bashir were very young, when partition came... but twenty years later, circumstances permitted Bashir to travel back to Ramla to see his old home, and he struck up a strange, and strained, friendship with Dalia. Over the course of years, Dalia grew up, married, bore children, succesfully survived cancer; Bashir became a lawyer, was periodically imprisoned by the Israelis fore alleged terrorist activities, was actually deported to Lebanon for a time, and eventually returned to Ramallah. They periodically saw one another... but never could overcome the barrier that was set between them; Bashir's resolute belief that he deserved to return and reclaim his ancestral home, and Dalia's inability to concede the injustice, and her insistence that her life in Israel was yet another 'fact on the ground' that could not be overcome by Palestinian nationalist aspirations. Their relationship was one of deep respect, and deep differences in political and moral belief. The background of this relationship is detailed in a recitation of what went on the the succeeding 50+ years, in terms of the politics and military activites in the disputed territories. Like the Segev book, this tale humanizes the situation by putting it the most personal possible terms, which strikes me as the only way to even attempt to understand. (Note: the lemon tree, in the title, refers to a tree planted by the Khairi family in the mid 1930's, when they built their home, and its fruit is a powerful symbol for the Khairi family. By the advent of the 21st century, the tree finally died, an ironic commentary on the tale)

This was a very well written account of the Israeli/Palestinian history. The author really tried to give a fair description of each side's view of the conflict, but it really opened your eyes regarding the unfairness the Palestinian people experienced, then and today. I found it a difficult though informative read.