All I could think about was the wall.
Sitting in the back of a taxi from the Berlin Tegel airport to our hotel in Gendarmenmarkt, my mind was racing with thoughts. Did the wall run through this part of the city? Where are the remains of the wall now? How high was it? Will we pass it? Are we in the east now or still the west?
My thoughts turned to questions for the taxi driver, who with a weary smile I imagined he gave to every wide-eyed tourist that he picked up, scantily explained the history of the wall, the city it divided and the inhabitants it isolated for so many years.
I wanted to know all about the wall, I wanted to see it, touch it, stand where it stood, close my eyes and imagine what it would be like to live on one side and not the other. To live in a place where a wall stood between you and loved ones, between you and a different life, between you and freedom.
At the end of World War II, Berlin was divided by the allied powers into four sectors, and in 1961 the Berlin wall was built by the German Democratic Republic (East Germans) in collaboration with the Soviet Union. Why? Mainly to prevent large waves of East Germans from leaving the Soviet controlled sector of Berlin for the three other sectors, namely French, American and British. Since then, the wall was to become a fortified prison and a symbol of the strength of Communism.
Then in 1987, Ronald Reagan in a speech during the anniversary of the wall, challenged Mikhail Gorbachev to "tear down this wall." From that moment onward the people of Berlin took to the streets in mass protest until finally the wall came down on 09 November 1989.
It was a sunny morning when we set off on our first encounter with the Berlin wall. We walked from Checkpoint Charlie, the American crossing point between east and west Berlin during the Cold War, to the largest remaining piece of the wall. As we stood in its shadow, we went through all the giddy emotions that tourists go through when faced with a historical relic. We took pictures, ate our ice creams in front of it and even tried climbing it.
Still...the wall stood there.
A colossal reminder of what was and what should never be again. The wall embodied the fears of all who lived on either side of it. And like a monster, it towered over me, spitting down shame, guilt and repugnance for being human.
Near this piece of the wall is the Jewish Museum, housing stories from the tragic history of the Jewish people of Europe. Passing through the museum, I realised that like the wall, the museum was a reminder of Man's propensity to hate, to inflict pain and to mete our harsh punishment.
The narrow passages and dark walls of the museum spoke to me of Man's wickedness. The many faded and stained pictures of Jewish families in happier times called from the abyss, weaving a tapestry of lives that once were. My breath stopped at the sight of an empty wicker suitcase, and next to it a button-eyed stuffed doll that a little girl had tried to save. I felt the cold of the walls seep into my bones and I shivered with thoughts of the loss of the Jewish people of Europe.
But even in that moment, the irony was not lost on me.
The irony that today, Israel, the "homeland" for the remembrance of the very people who endured the harsh brutalities depicted on the walls of the Museum, deigned to build a wall just like the Berlin wall, in Palestine. A wall that stifles the freedom of the Palestinian people. Its concrete slabs, adorned with barbed wire, taunting Palestinians, degrading their humanity and violating their human rights.
The wall in Palestine, which runs through most of the West Bank and the Israeli occupied territories, was first constructed by Israel in 1994 (during the Oslo peace negotiations, another irony) and ever since, sections have been continuously added to it in a brazen manner. The International Court of Justice in 2004 declared the construction of the wall contrary to international law and the international community called for its immediate breaking down.
But in violation of all that is good and humane, that wall still stands today as a symbol of Israeli occupation and aggression. It serves to imprison the Palestinian people. Like a herd of cattle, their movements are restricted and their lives dependent on the so- called "land-owner".
Not long ago on Monday, 09 November 2009, we celebrated the 20th anniversary of the Berlin wall coming down. I watched on TV as German Chancellor Merkel and the former Soviet Union leader Gorbachev stood where the Berlin wall once stood, together, shoulder to shoulder. I too embraced the celebrations transmitted into my living room from Berlin and the rest of Germany, throughout Eastern Europe and indeed many parts of the world. I listened as President Obama and former President Clinton talked of the tragedy that was, of the sacrifices made and of the freedom gained.
And I hoped that as we remembered the falling of one wall that we take a moment or two to think of another wall, a wall in a different land, a wall that must come down for there to be freedom for all who live in Palestine.
The time has come for another American President (Obama) to throw out a challenge to "tear down this wall."