Yesterday morning, a large number of train personnel decided spontaneously to park their trains and go on a strike in protest at the aggression they had to deal with over the exceptionally warm weekend - the last of the school Easter holidays.

When I heard this on the radio, it struck me as a rather odd way to combat aggression. Surely, I thought to myself, this would be a self-defeating gesture, since the poor buggers who would have to work the skelton service would be at the butt end of sharper abuse by disgruntled and stranded commuters. And, sure enough, that was the case!

With most of the peak trains cancelled and the others desperately late, some commuters lost their control and started yelling. But considering that people were packed like sardines in the sweltering hot carriage on an exceptionally hot spring day, I think most commuters handled themselves with fine discipline.

Now, I defend every worker's right to take action against poor working conditions. But this right has to be exercised wisely, especially when it comes to crucial services, like transport. There are far more effective ways of combating aggression than breeding more of it!!

This new blog provides a daily account of Egyptian journalist Khaled Diab's trip through Israel and Palestine on a personal quest for peace and understanding between Arabs and Israelis.

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Spring romance on the rooftops

 Khaled Diab

The dark, handsome 'boy next door' leapt courageously across the rooftops and climbed on to the balcony of his beautiful blonde neighbour. Bathed in moonlight, their eyes – his, a fiery green, hers, a steely Siberian blue – meet through the glass door. Then, he broke into a beautiful serenade and she joined him for a duet, two forlorn lovers longing to be brought together.

This classic story of 'cool cat' old kid on the block meets the feline femme fatale who recently moves into the neighbourhood has been unfolding between our Kuku and a cat from down the street for the last week or so.

One sunny afternoon, the black tom cat with black and white face could restrain his boiling passions no longer and Katleen, my wife, was surprised to find him entering the house through the terrace door, and he and Kuku shared a long moment exchanging languorous glances.

Ever since, our poor, angst-ridden cat has hardly been able to keep a grip on herself – although she did start off by playing hard to get – and he swings by.three or four times a day. For the time being, they are content to keep things platonic and share a stare, exchange a meow or simply enjoy the silence together. Although I'm a sexually liberated pet owner, I am concerned about having kittens – but after this torpid love affair is over and Kuku has had her offspring, we can splay her.

It's Sunday afternoon and Lover Boy has not turned up since I accidentally disturbed them on our rooftop terrace this morning – perhaps our sitting out there hasn't helped! Soon, Kuku, starring as our very on Juliet, became concerned at his absence and followed his trail across the rooftops but turned back before she reached his turf.

Being the cool cat that she is, she apparently does not want to seem too keen. Instead, she's decided to sunbathe and snooze away the afternoon.

"Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?"

Cyprus: the Promised Island and the world's first Zionist?

Khaled Diab

Almost four hundred years before the creation of Israel, Cyprus was on the cards as a Jewish colony and safe haven for Europe's persecuted Jewish minority.

I found this little nugget while brushing up on my history in preparation for my trip to Israel and Palestine.

The idea was the brainchild of the colourful Jewish financier and statesman Joseph Nasi (1524-1579), one of the 16^th century's top movers and shakers. Born as a 'New Christian' or Conversos in Portugal half a century after the start of the Inquisition in neighbouring Spain, he was a 'secret Jew' or Marrano. As the Portuguese Inquisition kicked off in earnest around 1536, he fled that and moved north to the Habsburg Netherlands and settled in Antwerp, where he was very successful and much respected, until the Spanish Inquisition caught up with him there, whereupon he moved to France and Venice.

But, like many Jews of the time, he settled in the far more tolerant Ottoman Empire and became one of the Sultan's most influential advisers. He also openly professed his faith for the first time in his life. What I find interesting about his life story is how different Jewish attitudes to Arabs and Muslims were back then – and vice versa.

Nasi is best remembered for starting the first resettlement programme of European Jews to Palestine, when the Ottoman sultan appointed him Lord of Tiberias (in Galilee) and allowed him to set up a small colony there of a few hundred Jewish families.

But Tiberias was actually a consolation prize offered by Sultan Selim II, who was not too keen on Nasi's Cypriot designs. At the time, the majority of Jews saw Palestine as a pilgrimage destination, at the very most, and believed they would only 'return' there with the coming of the Messiah. For uninformed Christians and Muslims, Jews do not believe the 'anointed one' has arrived yet.

But what if the Sultan had reacted favourably to Nasi's plan. How different would subsequent history have been and how different would today's geo-political landscape be? How long would the colony have lasted? How would the native population have reacted? Would there have been a local 'intifada' against the colonists? Well, as it so happens, when his negotiations with the local Jewish community were uncovered, the non-native Jewish population of Famagusta was expelled in 1569 - native Jews were allowed to remain.

Would Cyprus have attracted Jewish immigration? I suppose 'Next year in Nicosia' would not have quite the same ring to it in Jewish ears as 'Next year in Jerusalem'. But there had been a large Jewish community there since Greek times and Jews were facing persecution in many parts of Europe, so these may have been major selling points for the colony. Would there have been a long and bitter conflict, like the one currently plaguing Israel-Palestine and, if so, how would it have been resolved? Would Cyprus have joined the EU as an island divided along a different Green Line? Would the subsequent colonisation of Palestine have taken place?

The original Zionist?

Binyamin Ze'ev – better known as 'Theodor' – Herzl is widely regarded as the father of Zionism. But given his various attempts at establishing Jewish colonies, does Nasi deserve the title of the first 'Zionist'? Both men were motivated by the persecution of their people: the Inquisition for Nasi and the pogroms in eastern Europe for Herzl, as well as the infamous Dreyfus Affair in France.

"We Jews are even now constantly shifting from place to place, a strong current actually carrying us westward over the sea to the United States, where our presence is also not desired. And where will our presence be desired, so long as we are a homeless nation?" he wrote in Der Judenstaat, the first book on Zionism.

However, Nasi had just about managed to keep one step ahead of being personally persecuted himself and seemed to be driven mostly by the pragmatic need to protect his people and give them somewhere where they could practice their faith in peace. He also set about avenging his near persecution and that of his people by stirring up trouble against the intolerant Spanish, such as encouraging he Calvinists in the Netherlands to revolt against Spain and promising the Ottoman support, as well as 

On the other hand, Herzl was a comfortable member of the European intelligentsia – German-speaking Jews of his time were well integrated and more often than not part of the affluent middle and upper classes. Of course, he revealed a certain amount of pragmatism in that he was ready to form his Jewish state away from Palestine: the Jewish State is conceived as a peculiarly modern structure on unspecified territory," he wrote in Der Judenstaat.

But it was Palestine which he yearned for, in a secular manifestation of the Promised Land: "Palestine is our ever-memorable historic home. The very name of Palestine would attract our people with a force of marvelous potency," he extolled. In addition, his ideas were effused with the 19^th century brand of cultural chauvinism, racism, imperialism and disregard for the will of the local population. "We should there [in Palestine] form a portion of a rampart of Europe against Asia, an outpost of civilisation as opposed to barbarism," he said in the same book.

Although the only Arab character in a novel he wrote was grateful for the then fictional Jewish colonisation of Palestine, Herzl's memoirs reveal a darker intention for the local population of whatever piece of land would become the Jewish state: "Spirit the penniless population across the frontier by denying it employment… Both the process of expropriation and the removal of the poor must be carried out discreetly and circumspectly," he wrote in his diary in 1895. Of course, this kind of cavalier attitude towards the will of the native population was fairly common in pre-20^th century colonialism (including the Arab and Muslim variety). But it find its most perfect implementation in the near wholesale erasure of the native population of many parts of the Americas.

We are living with the consequences of Herzl's unrestrained drive to build a Jewish nation at any cost and the tragic near-extermination of European Jewry in the first half of the 20th century.

©Khaled Diab

Khaled Diab

Land, history, ideology, religion - these are what most people associate with the Arab-Israeli conflict. But dive beneath the surface and a whole other barely mentioned conflict is keeping a settlement at bay.According to ancient Arab wisdom, wells are good keepers of secrets. And appropriately water is, and has been for decades, one of the hidden undercurrents driving the conflict between the Israelis and the Palestinians, as well as neighbouring Lebanon and Syria.

Why did talks with Syria break down: over the large inland lake known as the Sea of Galilee - you know, where Jesus reportedly fed the 5,000 and walked on water - into which the Jordan River flows. But no such miracles visited the ill-fated talks over the Golan Heights in 1999.

During the Oslo years, why was Israel so reluctant to cede any of its main settlement blocks in the West Bank? Partly because they sit on the Jordan River's main aquifiers.

Under the Oslo accords, four-fifths of the West Bank's water was allocated to Israel, though the aquifers that supply it are largely replenished by water falling onto Palestinian territory. Under the same deal, Palestinian were earmarked 57 cubic metres of water per person per year from all sources. Meanwhile, Israel had a fourfold allocation of 246 cubic metres per head per year. And in the four decades that Israel has controlled the West Bank, Palestinians have been largely forbidden from drilling new wells or rehabilitating old ones.

The politics of water

A study released this month found that the situation was far worse than even the lop-sided Oslo accords envisioned. Carried out by the Applied Research Institute-Jerusalem (ARIJ), it found that Israel consumes annually around 82% of the renewable water resources in the underground water aquifers of the West Bank.

"In the case of a water crisis in the Palestinian territories, the problem is not the quantity of the available water, but the priorities and policies of the state of Israel," the report claims.

The Jordan River basin - which is shared by Jordan, Israel, Palestine, Lebanon and Syria - provides 50% of the water needs of Israel and Jordan, but only 5% of Syria and Lebanon's, which is a cause of major political tension, according to ARIJ.

If the situation is not addressed honestly and equitably in the quest for peace, then it could be the cause of conflict in the decades to come, especially as climate change kicks in and makes the Middle East drier.

Ever since ancient times, tribes and nations in the region have gone to war over control of vital wells and waterways (and this is one of the causes of the current Darfur crisis). Oil may fuel conflict in the Middle East today, but 'water wars' could well be next if we are not careful.

By Khaled Diab

A set of hitherto unknown ancient toilet rolls were uncovered by archaeologists on Good Friday in the Dead Sea area in what might prove to be the find of the 21st century.

The Belgian-Egyptian team admitted that the discovery had taken them by surprise since they had previously assumed that toilet paper was a modern invention. "We'd always assumed that Middle Easterners preferred water and that toilet paper was invented in China in the 14th century," a confounded team member admitted.

But this particular roll was nearly two millennia old, according to the latest carbon dating technology, and made from rough Egyptian papyrus, suggesting it may have been an import. "It must have been quite rough on your bottom, especially compared to the super-soft rolls I prefer to buy," another team member claimed in disgust.

An embarrassed colleague chimed in: "When we first saw the papyrus in a cave, we thought we'd stumbled upon another set of Dead Sea Scrolls and were completely chuffed. You can imagine our disappointment when, instead of writing, we found ancient caked-in excrement."

But the origin of toilet paper may not be the only tenet of faith that is likely to go arse over tits following this find. "However, a large boulder outside the cave gave us a brainwave and we decided to get the papyrus analysed."

On the Last Supper's menu

State-of-the-art forensic analysis uncovered signs of unleavened bread tinged with red wine, traces of maror, charoset and karpas. "These items are usually consumed during a Passover Seder and that is what the Last Supper of Christ is believed to have been," the team leader explained.

"This means that this may be the tomb of Jesus which was found empty by Mary on Easter Sunday. It also suggests that Jesus had been alive for a while and that the baking sun on the cross had given him diarrhoea. Alternatively, it could mean that Jesus didn't actually die on the cross and was taken down too soon." 

ãKhaled Diab. All rights reserved.

By Khaled Diab

I prefer to travel light. After all, if you want to be mobile on holiday, you can't carry around too much luggage. That is why, at the airport, I'm constantly baffled by people who go away with half a dozen, hard-shelled and impractically shaped suitcases.

Despite my propensity for minimising luggage, I realise that, for my forthcoming trip to Israel and Palestine, I'll be weighed down by our collective political, historical and ideological baggage. For a simple soul like me, that is no sneezing matter. In fact, I'll barely be able to sneeze - and I do that a lot, especially in spring - or scratch without my gesture being riddled with political implications, historical significance and ideological confirmation of the firmly held views and prejudices of one group or another!

I can imagine myself rocking up to the check-in desk and the ground stewardess smiling politely before informing me: "Sorry, sir, but your political baggage has exceeded the maximum limit."

"But it's not just mine," I'd protest. "It's all of ours. I've tried to shed as much of my own as I possible can and know I carry only this tiny ideological backpack."

"Okay, sir, but did you pack it yourself?"

Or how about at Tel Aviv airport. "Have you got anything to declare?" the customs official would ask.

"Well, just this rucksack and laptop," I would begin. "Oh and decades of conflict, a cold peace and mutual distrust between our peoples." Seriously, I'm not sure how I'll be greeted at the airport and whether I may trip up at the first hurdle. I've asked the advice of friends and have decided that honesty will be the best policy when I'm interviewed.

The burden of history

The Middle East is weighed down and sometimes crippled by the past - as well as the geopolitical importance of its mineral wealth. The recent passover celebrations commeorate the divine slaughtering of my forefathers as retribution for their enslavement of the Hebrews more than 3 millennia ago. Then they fled in their exodus and did battle with their cousins the Cannanites and Philistines to gain their so-called 'Promised Land'. Although forgiven, its hard-wiring into religious tradition means it will never be forgotten.

Today is Good Friday, the day on which another unforgettable Middle Eastern tragedy play was enacted with the crucifixion of Jesus, the uncrowned 'King of the Jews'. Shortly thereafter, much but not all, Iudea's Jewish population was expelled by the Romans, planting the first seeds of the current conflict.

For the Palestinians, their displacement and oppression still lives on and is very concrete - especially in the refugee camps of the West Bank and Gaza, Lebanon, Jordan and Syria.

A few hundred kms further east, another ancient politico-religious feud began with the assassination of Ali and the botched attempt on his rival Muawiyya's life aimed at ending the civil war over the Islamic succession. Instead, the party of Ali (Shi'ite Ali) felt hard done by, and the Umayyad began their persecution. And the legacy burns on in Iraq - with a lot of help from the US invasion.

The sins of the father are visited on the sons. An eye for an eye.

But it does not have to be like that. Politico-religious feuds are not unique to the Middle East. Look at India. Until the late 19th century, the Catholic-Protestant schism threatened to tear Europe asunder, and still lives on, to some degree, in Northern Ireland.

Of course, in a manner of speaking, the sins of the parents do live in the children, if those past crimes are the basis for present injustices, as is the case with the treatment of the Palestinians, the Shia'a in Iraq and the Gulf, the Roma in Europe or African Americans in the USA.

But once the sons and daughters right the sins of their fathers and mothers, then everything should be forgiven and Middle Easterners should let their pragmatic streak shine through. After all, as we say in Egypt, we are all children of today (ihna awlad enhar'da).

©Khaled Diab

As another golden opportunity for peace between Israel and the Arabs is in danger of slipping by the wayside, I have embarked on the first leg of my mission as a self-appointed, unofficial people's peace ambassador.

Yesterday, I booked my plane ticket to Tel Aviv for the last week of April. My low-key visit will come shortly after two high-profile peace initiatives looked set to stall. I don't know if the mood will be hopeful or despondent in light of this renewed international diplomatic activity.

I have no illusions about my visit. In the grander scheme of things, it will probably make little difference. But I believe that top-level diplomacy without popular support has proven ineffective. If my visit can demonstrate to some Israelis that ordinary Arabs genuinely want peace with them, and remind Palestinians that their cause is not forgotten by the outside world, then I will count my mission a modest success.

It is both bewildering and exciting for me, after all these years of writing about this conflict from a distance, finally to fulfil my long-intended plan to get up close and personal.

For me, it is interesting to look back and plot my evolution of consciousness. To me as a child, Israel existed as a distant and alien place which oppressed Palestinians. and caused pain to the entire Arab world I heard it described with sorrow and woe as "The dagger in the Arab heart" or "The cancer in the Arab body".

As my awareness grew so did my realisation of the complexities and ambiguities of the bitter standoff; that there are no clear 'good guys' and 'bad guys', that the Arabs, too, have failed the Palestinians. What Israel did and is doing to Palestine and the Palestinians is wrong, but there are plenty of Israelis who want to try to make amends and we need to engage with them.

As an Arab, the Palestinian cause has been synged into my consciences and has always seemed tangible, although I have mainly seen the pain and grief, and not the ordinary day-to-day trials and tribulations of these as they make do as best they can under occupation. Israel, too, has grown to become a concrete place in my mind, populated with real people living real lives, struggling to deal with real issues - not just the backdrop of troubling news bulletins or the setting for spy thrillers. Soon, I will see it in the flesh.

I expect I will be annoyed and angered by some of the opinions I will hear and I will be troubled and haunted by the conditions under which the Palestinians are living. But I also hope to be touched and moved by those who care and those who dare reach out across the divide.

Despite the soul-searching and undoubted difficulties involved, I think more unofficial ambassadors of the Arab people need to embark on similar missions. Both sides need to get beyond the politics and see the people - and that is what I am determined to do.