'I'm also doing this work for the future,' says Ibrahim Issa. The principal of the Hope Flowers School in Al Khader, just a few kilometers from Bethlehem, stands in the entrance to his school, under a framed photo of Martin Luther King: 'How are we going to live in peace with the Israelis one day if we don't pave the way for it now?' he says, looking down into the schoolyard, where some students are unpacking spray paint cans in bright colors with their teacher.
In all 300 children attend the school, founded by Issa's father in 1984. It's a choice to go to the school because Hope Flowers is special for several reasons: it's one of the few schools in the West Bank that accepts autistic children. It teaches children to cope with trauma, and it is dedicated to working for peace with Israelis.
Issa, 46, has laugh lines around his eyes and usually a joke on his tongue. He wears jeans and a casual shirt, unlike many other school principals in the Palestinian territories, many of whom enter their schools only with a tie. 'For me, it's about being myself,' he says, 'giving from the bottom of my heart.' Helping him with his goal of being present is his morning meditation. Early in the morning, when everything is quiet and his five children and wife are still asleep, he comes to himself in thought and then starts into a busy day that often begins at seven and doesn't end until nine or ten in the evening.
Actually, something else was planned for him: After graduating from school, Issa went to the Netherlands to study mechanical engineering. After earning his master's degree, he wanted to continue on this path. But then his father, the founder of Hope Flowers School, died in 2000. Issa returned to support his family. Shortly after, the Second Intifada began and Hope Flowers School was literally caught between the fronts.
On the hill of the settlement of Efrat, just a few hundred meters from the school, there were Israeli military tanks, and behind the school, Palestinian militants were entrenched. Shots were flying while the children were learning math and Arabic. Issa quickly organized a bus to transport the children safely to school and back. Even then, at the beginning of the Second Intifada, in the midst of the gunfire, he understood that in order to achieve something, you also have to talk to the opposing side: Time and again, he negotiated short ceasefires with the Israeli army chief. Often he had only twenty minutes to bring sixty children home in his small bus.
Even when Issa recounts violent events, his features and posture radiate calm. 'I try to bear in mind a phrase from my father,' he nods,
Real leaders can turn negative energy into positive.
He learned how important this energy reversal is for Issa himself in 2002. That's when the Israeli military bulldozed his house and imprisoned him. After a week, they released him, saying they were wrong. But the trauma ran deep. 'For a year, I wasn't myself.' A Dutch friend and psychotherapist helped him deal with his experiences. And so this traumatic event became a blessing. Thanks to that he found his purpose and wanted to pass on what he had learned. He understood that one sticking point was getting the children and families to talk about perceived weaknesses: 'In proud, Palestinian society, that's considered not proper.' He founded the project 'Hear my voice' and became the school's new director in 2004. The project is still running. In the meantime, it also includes training school directors and teachers to recognize trauma in students. And, not least, in themselves.
In order to create a peaceful society and avoid the use of violence, unhealed wounds must heal – Issa and the psychotherapists at the school assume. 'It's not always easy under the conditions here to remain authentic,' says the visionary: 'But in the end I always say: for me it doesn't matter where someone comes from. I know Palestinians with whom I don't get along well and Israelis with whom I get along great.'
The school is located in the so-called C area, in the Palestinian territories, but under Israeli control. The Israeli settlement of Efrat is located on the next hill. Palestinian building applications are rejected almost one hundred percent of the time in the C-areas, and countless buildings in the Palestinian territories have demolition orders. So does a partial building of the school. Issa nevertheless engages in dialogue, also talking to Israelis. He initiates cooperation projects with Israeli institutions; currently, special education teachers at Hope Flowers School are working with Israeli specialists on a program for autistic children.
Issa nods in the direction of the teacher in the schoolyard holding a spray can: 'She was worried about the cooperation at first, but I don't know how many Israeli Facebook friends she has now.'
Not everyone agrees with what the school director is doing. Nationalist Palestinians launch media campaigns against him and his school, and Palestinian and Israeli security forces interview him on a regular basis. 'Peace work in conflict areas like this one is not easy,' Issa says, looking toward the settlement, 'Many people think I'm naive. They can't understand the difference between cooperation and peace work.' But he is helped by the conviction that he is doing the right thing and has nothing to hide.
Does he sometimes want to quit everything? Issa shakes his head, 'I'm insanely happy to live in this time and place.' He stands at the top of the stairs next to the front door to the school, while students spray paint butterflies on the schoolyard pavement through stencils: 'It's hard to live in conflict zones,' he says: 'But most of all, it's a way to be present and make a meaningful difference.'
The Hope Flowers School aims to recognize trauma in Palestinian children and help them work through it. In seminars, psychotherapists train teachers and school principals to recognize trauma in children and young adults and understand how to address it in their schools. Many of the projects are carried out jointly with Israeli institutions. In this way, the school aims to educate for a future peace.
Judith Poppe, born in 1979, lives in Tel Aviv and has been the correspondent for the daily newspaper taz for Israel and the Palestinian territories since 2019. She also reports from the Middle East for various other German-language media. She received her doctorate from the University of Göttingen with a thesis on German-language poetry from Israel.
The zivik Funding Programme supports civil society actors worldwide in preventing crises, transforming conflicts, and creating as well as stabilising peaceful social and political systems. With their commitment, non-governmental organisations (NGOs) complement state actors by providing significant perspectives and activities. The zivik programme is providing funding for international, national or local NGO projects, which are dealing with civil conflict resolution and peacebuilding efforts.
