The suitcase was packed, a taxi ordered and everything was ready for departure back to Istanbul. I had even taken the chance to check in on the plane. The only thing left were some live broadcasts in Dagsnytt and Nyhetsmorgen after Israel had killed the most powerful Hezbollah leader so far on the list. news wanted a report on what the reactions might be. It was an increasingly demanding exercise. The Middle East resembles an Olympic championship of war and revenge attacks. The events of the last few months have blown any record of what was thought possible. By the time I got on the air in the morning broadcasts, another piece of news from the Middle East topped the broadcasts. It was clear to me that I had to extend my stay in Israel. The top Hamas leader was killed in an assassination attempt in Tehran. When the explosives went off, it also triggered a cry for revenge from a humiliated Iranian Ayatollah. KILLED: Fuad Shukr was number two in the Iran-backed Hezbollah movement, while Ismail Haniyeh was the political chief of Hamas. Photo: AFP Israel has not officially claimed responsibility, but by all accounts has done what no one expected: to strike at its enemy where it hurt the most, while he was a guest of its main supporter Iran. After the live reports, it was just a matter of canceling the check-in and rebooking the tickets. In the back of my mind, I also asked myself the question when I would come home at all. Canceled flights In war, the first thing that happens is that the airlines stop flying. Being stuck is simply one side of being a correspondent. It requires extreme flexibility. Everyone who has participated in that exercise knows that. As a Middle East correspondent, this branch has become even more advanced in recent months. We are talking about a Middle East before and after 7 October last year. One must be prepared for the unthinkable. For example, I never thought I would report that Iran’s missiles and drones were headed for Israel, only to see and hear the same missiles and drones in the night sky over Jerusalem a few hours later. Spectacular, scary and historic. IRANIAN ATTACK: Iranian missiles and drones are shot down by Iron Dome in April. Photo: Åse Marit Befring / news Plans have to be constantly changed. So far it is not that unusual. The journey itself has also become a small obstacle course, because I am based in Istanbul. Until 7 October last year, there were over 10 daily departures to Israel from the Turkish metropolis. It was easy to get there. BOMB ROOM: Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv on October 7 last year. Photo: Åse Marit Befring / news But when I was due to return two weeks after the terrorist attack and appeared at the airport in Tel Aviv with a ticket in hand, I only got a confused look from the lady at the check-in desk: – Istanbul? There are no longer any flights to Istanbul. Since then it hasn’t. The war has soured relations between the two countries. Although Hamas is responsible for the killing of around 1,200 Israelis on October 7 and the abduction of 250 hostages, which prompted Israel to go to war in Gaza, Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s Hamas calls it a “freedom movement”. At the same time, he refers to Israel’s Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu as “the butcher in Gaza”, and thinks he is a step closer to Hitler in genocide. After the assassination in Beirut, Erdogan even claimed that Turkey was Israel’s next target, and he also went so far as to threaten to invade Israel. Hatred raised to a new level Hamas gets all the sympathy in the world because of the civil suffering in Gaza, while Israel is seen as the devil himself. That is the feeling among Israelis I meet on the street. – The bad have become the good, says one of those I meet in Tel Aviv to ask about the situation. I forgot to cancel the taxi that was supposed to take me to the airport, and photographer Ksenia and I decide to use it to go downtown rather than let the trip go to waste. The woman in her 40s looks straight out of the hippie era, and wears a big hat over her blonde frizzy hair and sunglasses that cover half her face. There are many like her in Israel, who say they stand for peace and charity. But there has never been a greater lack of it here now. – I really miss the time when I grew up and relations were good between Palestinians and Jews, says Abed. He drives a taxi and now and then helps me get appointments in the occupied West Bank. Over the years he has become a good friend. Abed turns 54 when he picks me up at the airport in July, and talks about a time when Jews and Arab Palestinians could get along, about the couple who passed his village every Saturday hand in hand with their children on their way to the synagogue, and about a conflict that was distant from the life he lived. But that was a long time ago, and now the hatred has been raised to a new level, he believes. The other day he took his youngest to an activity park in Jerusalem. The seven-year-old stood next to two peers, who were playing a game when one of the little boys turned around and said: – He is an Arab. Don’t play with him. The seven-year-old demanded an answer from his father afterwards: – What is an Arab? What did he mean by that? Abed has tried to spare the children from the conflict, and the episode tears at a father’s heart. – How can you fill a young person with so much hatred, he asks. “They don’t want peace”, I often hear from the other side of the conflict. – We are a peaceful people, but have no choice when we are attacked, is the explanation they give for the situation they are in. The extreme nationalists are doing what they can to pour fuel on the fire. Ariel (22) is one of them. She is ready to enter Gaza to settle there. Together with a group of other settlers, she has settled in a forest right outside the border and says that her grandparents fought for the promised land, and now she wants to take up that legacy. – We cannot try for peace and put our lives at risk again, she believes and refers to every Palestinian as an enemy. As I talk to her, rockets come over from Gaza almost to emphasize her point. While she praises the Lord and Iron Dome for being alive after the attack, I praise myself happily every time I walk away from this polarized conflict. How to get home This time I’m leaving four days later than planned after the threat of another counter-attack has caused the airline to cancel the new ticket via Athens. I find a flight from Jordan instead. THE BORDER: Signs pointing the way to the border with Jordan. Photo: Åse Marit Befring / news To get there, I first take a taxi to the border, and then the hardships of crossing from Israel to Jordan begin. Both dollars, Israeli shekels and Jordanian dinars change hands before I have a visa and am on the other side of the border. A Taxi drives me on to the airport in Amman, a couple of hours away. JOURNEY HOME: On a trip through Jordan’s countryside on the way to the airport. Photo: news But the hardships were not to end there. Once there, an error occurs and my ticket is canceled and all flights appear to be full. I finally find a ticket with another company. It all becomes almost comical when I am told at the counter that it does not exist. But after another hour of chaos, I still get a seat on a plane. The very last ticket. Also read Åse Marit Befring’s previous correspondent letter from Turkey: Published 11.08.2024, at 17.25
ttn-69
The liquidation in Tehran showed why a Middle East reporter should not check in beforehand. – news Urix – Foreign news and documentaries
