| Ned Lazarus (Program Director) | Seeds of Peace Center Staff |
| John Wallach (Founder) | Bobbie Gottschalk (Co-Founder) |
| UN Secretary General Kofi Annan | Secretary of State Colin Powell |
Ned Lazarus
Let many more live like him. Let no more be killed like him. Let his memory teach us forever.
This is our tribute to an extraordinary human being. It is difficult to describe Asel; in life, he defied stereotypes, labels and definitions. How many teenagers read and write poetry and philosophy, converse and correspond intensively and insightfully, and laugh and joke fluently and frequently in each of three languages? Asel did. How many Palestinian citizens of Israel have created friendships with scores of Jews and Arabs at age 17? Asel had. How many people of any origin, of any citizenship, of any age, are truly proud of themselves, their own nation and religion, and simultaneously curious, open and respectful towards everyone else’s, including their historical “enemies”? Asel was. Asel was. That is our tragedy. Words cannot capture the complexity, the curiosity, the sensitivity, the wit, the radiance of our friend. They are simply all we have left.
This is our attempt to describe the person that we knew. I hesitate to call it a tribute. It is our effort to explain what it was about Asel that inspired us to respect him, admire him, love him, seek his advice, enjoy his company and contemplate his questions. His loved ones remember here the qualities that made up this young man. He was at once talented and humble, introspective and loving, deeply serious and spontaneously funny. Asel was a strong Palestinian and a friend to dozens of Israelis. He was a proud Muslim who learned at Christian schools and visited Jewish friends on their holidays. He worked for peace and justice, and stood for his rights without hurting anyone. Asel argued vocally and powerfully, but never physically. He was never violent in his life, to the day that violence ended his life. Here you can also see Asel through his own eyes.
Here are his thoughts as he shared them with Seeds of Peace, using his fourth language and favorite mode of communication: the computer. Cyberspace was a realization of Asel’s vision: a world without checkpoints or identity cards. He spent much of his earthly life online, and left our inboxes full of jokes, holiday greetings, and everyday notes, mixed with extraordinary reflections on life and death, war and peace, and human identity. The issue of identity is perhaps the area of Asel’s deepest insight. Conflict and confusion seem inherent to being an Arab-Israeli, or a Palestinian Arab living in Israel, as Asel preferred to describe himself. Yet as a teenager, Asel had already learned to make his multi-faceted identity a blessing rather than a curse. Asel used his multiple languages and multicultural knowledge to reach the widest range of people.
Rather than letting it be a source of confusion for himself, Asel used his identity to increase understanding between the people he met on all sides. The network of friends Asel built, the pieces that he wrote, and the things he thought in the last three years of his life is a remarkable achievement. This young person was a master of negotiating the Arab-Israeli divide in his own life, on his way to becoming the kind of leader this troubled region is desperate for: Someone skilled in blurring divisions, negotiating the impasses, and translating between the clashing cultures and languages. Someone who transformed the drawbacks of conflicting identities into advantages. I hope this book will not make Asel a symbol; let it just show him as Asel. His personality is more powerful than any symbol. When you understand who he was, you understand the price of hatred and violence—the contrast between the multidimensional teenage pioneer of peace, the complexity and vivacity that was Asel, and the brutal impulse that ended his life in a matter of seconds.
Asel is gone, and we can never recover him. The most we can do is celebrate everything that we loved about him, emulate all that he did to help us enrich our own existence, and remember: Remember Asel alive in all his aspects and remember to see the spectrum of life in each other, in every human being, as he did. Let many more live like him. Let no more be killed like him. Let his memory teach us forever.
Ned Lazarus served as the Seeds of Peace Program Director in Jerusalem from 1996-2003.
Seeds of Peace Center Staff
Asel knew how to use his gifts and his identity to build bridges between people.
There are many benefits to working year-round at the Seeds of Peace Center in Jerusalem. Undoubtedly the greatest aspect of our work is the opportunity it grants us to get to know the Seeds at home; to visit them, meet their friends and families, and watch them grow and change and face the challenges of teenage life. It is our job to help the Seeds preserve the connections they made with each other; in the process, we often develop deep personal connections of our own.
Asel was among the leaders of regional activities; throughout his three years as a Seed, we traveled with him to meetings, workshops, reunions and presentations throughout the country. We were privileged to join his friends from Seeds of Peace as guests in his home, and to host him at our homes on his numerous trips to Jerusalem. Asel made sure, through hours on the road and the Net, that he was present in almost everything Seeds did in the region. We knew him intimately, and we miss him terribly—as a leader of Seeds activities, as a remarkable and inspiring young person, and as our friend. Adam remembers Asel “As a brother to me. When we spent time together, it was as if we had seen each other the day before, when it may have really been weeks or months.” We wish to thank him here for everything he gave to us, and personally remember the qualities that made him such a positive presence in our lives.
We all remember Asel for his humor. With his huge smile and goofy faces, Asel could make all of us laugh upon entering the room. Jen will never forget Asel’s appearances at her table during meals at Camp in 1999. “My job is to annoy you,” he said. He had clever, creative ways of trying to do that. “Am I annoying you yet?” he would ask, grinning. When she told him no, he just grinned wider. “Then I’ll have to try harder.”
Asel was much more than just a funny guy; our memories of Asel are also dominated by his extraordinary maturity. Even those who did not know Asel noticed his poise and confidence. On one occasion, Asel found himself in Jerusalem with no place to sleep. Ned and Roy agreed to offer him their couch. All the staff had plans to go out together that night with some friends, so Asel went with us—to Ramallah. We were hanging out, dancing, and having a great time. Fish’s friend, however, remarked that she thought it was a little strange for us to be hanging out with one of the kids. “Well,” Fish tried to explain, “It’s Asel, he’s special.” The friend was confused. “I was talking about Adam,” she said. “Isn’t Asel the Director of the Center?”
Asel knew how to use his gifts and his identity to build bridges between people. As a Palestinian Arab living in Israel, as he would describe himself, Asel could effectively understand and communicate to both Palestinians and Jewish Israelis, and help them understand and communicate with each other. His patience helped keep others calm, and his humor broke through the tension of the most heated discussions. Roy recalls such a discussion around a fire at Camp in 1998: “The discussion deteriorated quickly into mistrust and accusations. Everyone was frustrated, angry, confused, wanting to talk yet refusing to listen. Everyone besides Asel. Asel kept calm. He didn’t raise his voice once. At first I didn’t even notice that he was there, since he was so focused on listening.
“Later, someone asked for Asel’s opinion as a Palestinian-Israeli. Other Seeds interrupted Asel before he had even begun, questioning his identity, doubting his loyalty, accusing him of not really being an Israeli or an Arab. Throughout these harsh attacks, Asel remained unbelievably composed. Before replying, he paused a few seconds and gathered his thoughts. I could tell how important this subject was to him. Then he spoke from his heart and to the point. He was clear, confident, and always respectful. The group was silent, wanting to hear and understand more. Asel maintained their attention and respect, because when he spoke he took care to relate to both the Arabs and the Israelis.”
Adam remembers Asel’s style of debating: “First Asel would argue with you, and make his points—often intelligent, accurate and insightful—and then he would find a way to make you smile, by turning his argument on its head, to the absurd, or just by sharing his broad smile.”
We appreciated Asel not only for his talent, but for his effort. Asel lived three hours’ drive away from the Center and from most of his Seeds friends, but he never seemed far away. He was ready to go the distance, traveling all over the country to visit Seeds. Asel took four buses both ways to make it to Shirly Evrany’s Purim party in Ashdod. Asel’s mother Jamila often called Sami searching for Asel, when he had in fact spontaneously gone to visit another Seed without any assistance from us. He spent the night at the homes of multiple friends, Jewish and Arab, from each of his three different summers and often traveled to see in person friends he had met through the Internet. He was the most prolific e-mailer we knew; Ned was forced to create a special inbox, named “Slider,” to handle Asel’s daily communiqués.
Asel’s final appearance as a Seed was perhaps his grandest. On August 17, 2000, Asel and his friend Talia Avidor from Jerusalem co-hosted the first-ever summer talent show at the Center. They took the stage together in front of three hundred Israeli and Palestinian Seeds. Asel immediately lifted them out of their seats, his voice booming out the classic Seeds of Peace cheer through the microphones: “HEY SEEDS OF PEACE!” The new Seeds, who attended Camp in the summer of 2000, saw Asel for the first time that night—the rest of us for the last time. All of us were treated to an evening of vintage Asel. He was charming, witty, laughing all the while at the performers and himself, injecting the audience with his magnificent spirit.
After the show, Asel and Jen joined a group of Seeds sleeping over at Amit Caraco’s house in Gilo. They walked to the Hyatt Hotel to get taxis. Asel was organizing the whole operation—arranging prices, giving directions, making sure everybody had enough room and enough money. Asel was in the center of it, not in the spotlight like an hour before, but on the ground, making sure of all the details so that everyone could be together that night.
Asel brought everybody together again that night—as he has always done.
Seeds of Peace Center for Coexistence Staff: Adam, Huwaida, Jared, Jen, Ned, Roy, Sami.
John Wallach
Our mission is to realize his dreams despite all the obstacles against us. Asel would not want us to give up.
Asel Asleh is the first Seed graduate to have lost his life in the ongoing battle between Israelis and Palestinians. On behalf of Seeds everywhere, we mourn the tragic loss of this sensitive, caring and articulate individual. On behalf of the whole Seeds of Peace family, I extend our deepest condolences to his family and hundreds of Arab and Israeli friends.
All of us have a responsibility now to remember Asel for his courageous acts of leadership and for overcoming the legacy of hatred into which he was born. Asel’s father spent five years in an Israeli prison and yet emerged as a defender of his son’s commitment to peace. Asel believed that he had a duty to support Palestinians when they protested Israeli occupation, as he put it, “to go to riots, to talk, to argue.” He felt a deep tie to the Palestinian people and to helping them fight for their rights to statehood and independence.
But he also understood that riots and protests, however violent, would never—by themselves—achieve those goals. That is why Asel became an important architect of the Charter of Villars, drafted by Israeli and Palestinian Seeds at the 1998 Swiss summit. It called for the sharing of Jerusalem as the capital of two states. That is why Asel was one of the proudest and most committed graduates of Seeds of Peace. He regularly visited the homes of Israelis and Palestinians, invited them to his home, contributed to The Olive Branch and to SeedsNet, spoke to high school students and only two weeks ago was the emcee of the talent show at the Center for Coexistence.
Asel was actively working for a better future not only for his friends in Seeds of Peace but for all Arabs and Israelis. He remembered that when he came to Camp for the first time, it was hard for him to distinguish between the Israeli Government and their people. He said he discovered that while Israel had committed many injustices against him and the Arab people, the young man “playing baseball against me is not my enemy … and that’s what is important.”
No one said it is easy to be a Seed, especially in times like this. Each of us is made up of many parts, some good and some bad. We all have tempers; we shout and scream when we become angry. We are often impatient and intolerant to others. And yet we also have that within us that inspires hope and courage. Shouq, a Jordanian Seed, once said we have to go to war with ourselves before the better side can emerge. But it is there. It takes enormous courage for any Seed to disagree with his or her government. It takes even more courage to lead your people away from war when everyone around you wants revenge and bloodshed. It takes courage to lead your leaders.
I am sure that Asel was proud to be protesting against what he perceived as Israeli injustice. He had every right to feel that way. And yet the same Asel wrote that “Seeds of Peace is the best thing that happened to all of us.” Why? Because he said it gave him hope. Even more important it gave him the chance to change the future so that other Israelis and Palestinians would not have to die. Asel understood that. “When we became Seeds we took in our hands a responsibility,” he said. “It is our job now to do it the right way no matter what—a job we all made a commitment to, not because we have to but because we want to.”
He gave his life for his people. But he dedicated his life to something more—to the vision of a future when his people and all people would be able to live together and enjoy the benefits of peace. Asel did not die in vain but as a symbol of hope to future generations. He had a vision of what peace would be like. “You will be able to live in a place where an ID isn’t needed as well as passports or checkpoints,” he wrote in The Olive Branch. Our mission is to realize his dreams despite all the obstacles against us. Asel would not want us to give up. “When your voice becomes a voice of a leader, no one will care for your ID,” he wrote. Asel was already a leader.
Together we can make sure that Asel’s voice is never silenced.
John Wallach (1943-2002) was Founder and President of Seeds of Peace.
Bobbie Gottschalk
He knew that all the outer garments of historical claims, religious beliefs and political postures could be stripped away to find the essential person in each of us.
“Out beyond ideas of rightdoing and wrongdoing, there is a field.
I’ll meet you there.”
Jelaluddin Rumi (1207-1273)
The quote above can be found in many of the essays and letters Asel Asleh wrote in the past three years. If one were to choose a theme for his life, this quote would be the one. After wrestling with all the troubling historical claims, all the moral and religious issues and all the political problems of the Middle East, Asel found comfort in the meaning of Rumi’s words.
Not too long after Asel’s first session at the Seeds of Peace camp in Maine, Asel and I began discussing serious issues, some current and some timeless. We used the AOL Instant Message program, since we were worlds apart, physically. But, in spirit, we were very close indeed. Through the Internet, over a period of three years, Asel traveled through the rough terrain of self-identity, social and political analyses, comparative religious beliefs and the meaning of his life.
His academic achievement was very impressive. But, to me, his greatest achievement was that he took this quote from Jelaluddin Rumi, written almost 800 years ago, as his central belief. He knew that all the outer garments of historical claims, religious beliefs and political postures could be stripped away to find the essential person in each of us. That is the person, the essential one, with whom Asel communicated and this is what made him so valuable to us.
The tragedy of Asel’s death is immeasurable. Who knows how many other hearts he would have touched, how many minds he would have opened or how many enemies he would have helped to become friends. All we know is, while he was in our midst, he kept faith with this quote, which took him beyond prejudice, hate and conflict, to a place—a field—where each person is equal to any other.
Bobbie Gottschalk is a co-founder of Seeds of Peace and current board member.
UN Secretary General Kofi Annan
I am writing to convey to you my heart-felt condolences and deep sorrow over the untimely death of Asel. Although too many young Arabs have been killed in the recent conflict, Asel’s work for peace makes the circumstances of his death particularly tragic.
As one of the most outstanding participants in the Seeds of Peace programme, Asel was engaged in building a peaceful future for your community, and for the entire country and region, based on mutual understanding and reconciliation. His death was a shock not only to you and the Arab community but also to many Jewish people, and indeed to people all over the world.
His untimely death reminds all of us of the need to strive for reason and compassion, and to redouble our efforts for lasting peace between Israel and all its neighbours.
With deepest sympathy,
— Kofi A. Annan
Secretary of State Colin Powell
Asel Asleh was a Seeds of Peace. He lost his life last October, but he remains an enduring symbol of Hope. He embodied the Seeds’ ideals of promoting understanding and peaceful coexistence. Asel was a sensitive, caring, articulate young leader fighting the legacy of hatred to build a brighter future for Arabs and Israelis alike.