Exploring Common Themes

Many proposals began with a description of divides. Whether spatial or metaphorical, between peoples, geographies, highways, or opportunities, boundaries of separation run prominent through entrants’ depictions of present-day Jerusalem. The future of these divisions, however, was much more contested. Two general threads emerged out of the vast diversity of visions among the proposals: that of a Just Jerusalem as a connected city of interwoven narratives, and that of a city of fragmentation.

For some, Jerusalem is naturally a ‘city of pieces’, an organic patchwork of semi-autonomous spaces which have defined its past and present. Recommendations from these submissions typically advocate sharpening the definition of edges and/or strengthening the internal identity of a specific unit of analysis. A sharpening of edges is interpreted broadly; the Gulf of Peace advocates a widening of the division line by a large body of water, while In Back Home, a Palestinian refugee camp is gradually developed, but as an independent ‘social island’.

Other proposals – by far the majority among the submissions – identified divisions as ‘pieces of a city’, or unnaturally fragmented elements of urban life. These proposals view Jerusalem’s past and future as necessarily more connected than the present, and recommend restoring, strengthening, or creating connections to make the city whole.

Within the multitude of inventive ways proposed to address the city’s fractures we identified three generalized strategies: ‘stitches’, ‘middle ground’, and ‘points’. While the differences between the three types may be small, we hope they may provide the beginning of discussion.

The first set, ‘stitches’, proposes to establish or improve links across existing divisions. In the Mosaic Crafts and Communities Fair, an existing network of Israeli and Palestinians expands its economic and cultural collaboration through regular events.  Metro-level networks knitting together divided communities were a common theme as well, with many proposing public transit systems, such as JerusaleMetroPolis, city-wide symbols like the The Companion Flag in Jerusalem and shared environmental management, as in Resource Recovery.

In ‘middle ground’, proposals focus on the possibilities for the spaces of delineation. The ‘seam’ wall figured prominently among these, and often envisioned as a gradually softening boundary, or space for building connections, as in the Jerusalem Line, or collective memory in the Seam Line.

Lastly, ‘points of convergence’ proposals advocated spaces that would attract different fractured parts of the city – youth, beliefs, foods, finance-could be ‘drawn in’ to a single site of overlap and interaction. Submissions abounded in this category. Sites of learning and training were common, as in the thoughtful example of NextGen V. Many innovative submissions also proposed shared spaces for reflection and memory, such as the Threshold between History and Eternity or the 3 in 1 Museum of Peace.

As a final note, many of the proposals focused on the physical distinctions, such as the village and settlement “which turn their back on each other” as described in Viaduct of Synchronicity. But many more honed in to the political, social, or environmental aspects of division, and proposed to bridge, connect, or fill with a space of overlap. Likewise, social and psychological fractures reverberated through the justification of all ideas of connection and division, from bridges and humane borders to shared finance and television shows in their envisioning of a peaceful and just city. Despite the diversity inside categories, the dichotomy of fragmented/connected is an artificial imposition in most ways, and many proposals showed a vision of the city which contained both elements. Where do you think the balance lies in the future of the city? Can it change?

Almost all the visions for a Just Jerusalem in 2050 were based on some sort of perceived or potential commonality of experience among the variety of religious, political, or social groups living in the city, although there was little consensus as to whether the future or the past served as the reference point for such assessments. For some, commonalities emerged out of differences, or were reinforced over time; for others common experiences in the past laid a trajectory for contemporary or future differences.  Either way, this idea of sharing something, whether in the past or the future, helped enable visions of peaceful coexistence. As with any dichotomy, some entries failed rejected the idea of either a shared past or a shared future, choosing instead to see both as integral to the peaceful development of Jerusalem, or alternatively, as having little effect. An easy way to visualize all these distinct conceptions is with simple line drawings, as shown in the figure above.

Submissions that focused primarily on a shared past and then diverged over time often proposed the construction of museums, cemeteries, or memorials, such as “3 in 1: Museum of Peace.” Such entries mostly focused on a shared religious history, and strove to recreate, or at least pay homage to, an earlier time of relatively harmonious coexistence.   In this case, the three major monotheistic religions all trace back to a common ancestor, history, and culture, which will be evident when a visitor tours the Museum of Peace.

Conversely, submissions that focused on a shared future, that is, converged, often articulated a common goal that all groups, regardless of their prior histories, could work towards achieving together. “W.A.T.E.R.” is one such vision. It named water scarcity as an impending crisis that would affect every resident of Jerusalem, thereby bringing all residents together to implement this mutually agreed upon solution.  By reorienting Jerusalemites toward a future that has shared problems and solutions, the convergent visions strove to implement mutually beneficial solutions.

There were also entries that viewed groups as existing alongside each other, or in parallel, without presuming either a shared a past or future. Many of these submissions focused on conditions or venues of coexistence. “Station” exemplifies this idea by enacting a dramatic performance revealing the co-existence of epochs and peoples in a single setting, the old Ottoman Railway Station. The play transports its audience through the present, past, and future almost seamlessly, emphasizing the importance of understanding and accepting both historical and contemporary differences between Israelis and Palestinians. Many of the remaining entries that proposed parallel existence encouraged a reevaluation of the conflict in terms that would allow for distinctive groups to live and work together, either as individuals or as collectivities with any number of divisions among them, without compromising their identities.

Lastly, some submissions focused on the different religious and ethnic groups in Jerusalem, but rather than emphasizing a parallel existence highlighted their shared experiences as residents of the same city. Those concerned with the selfsame, or identical, nature of the urban experience, regardless of religion or ethnicity, often focused on the strife associated with living in contemporary Jerusalem. “Safe Design, Open City,” is one such entry whose premise is safety and security, the right to which all people should have.

Given that a shared past or shared future provided the foundation for envisioning peace around which so many submissions were designed, be it as a starting or ending point, what do you think is the value of stressing the commonalities rather than differences in Jerusalem? Do you think the commonalities transcend time and space as well as group or individual experience? How important is it to address the past to discuss the future? Where and how, if at all, do you see Israelis and Palestinians sharing common experiences? What events or ideas might inspire Jerusalemites to share interpretations of both the city's past, present, or future?

Many entries considered Jerusalem a platform for a practical project. For them, Jerusalem may be a remarkable place, but also one with tangible problems awaiting thoughtful and imaginative but grounded and pragmatic interventions. To establish a starting point, these entries often accept most of the existing structural conditions as fixed, and designed their interventions around the existing laws, social norms, politics, and geographies.

Other proposals embraced a long tradition of projecting Jerusalem beyond its everyday existence, and, through ideas and metaphors, advocated for a transformation of how the city could be conceived. The types of re-conceptualizations examine both external understandings and representations of the city, as well as future imaginations of the city which challenge many of the accepted forms and social organizations comprising contemporary Jerusalem. For example, sociopolitical ‘givens’ such as the need for ownership of land are skillfully brought into question by Landwalker, which advocates a boundary-less landscape of mobile dwelling units. Along the same lines, multiple proposals challenged conceptions of space through imaginations of additional planes of urbanity reaching skyward, as in the World Future Courthouse, or expanding underground, as in the Rainbow Landmark. Embedded in this dichotomy is a conflict over territory, or land, and the intractability of people, borders, politics, and ways of living in or on certain physical locations. And no matter the entry point, all entrants were concerned with a common set of questions: Where to intervene? What to change? How much does one dare to imagine?

One possible answer comes in the distribution of imaginative versus practical entries to the competition. While almost all submissions naturally contained elements of both metaphor and reality, surprisingly very few sought to blend both elements in a single proposal in ways that could inspire both transformative ideas and practical action. Tellingly, those who came closest to doing so also captured the attention of the international jury that evaluated these entries, perhaps explaining why so many of the winning proposals and honorable mentions stand out for their innovative attempts at weaving together wide visions of a different future with a grasp of existent realities and possible avenues for practical intervention. For example, although the HUMMUS entry imagines an entirely new regional map for Jerusalem's future, it builds this novel conception around a grounded historical reading of the cultural, environmental, economic, and political history of the city. Its premise is that Jerusalem is just one of many Middle East cities with a contested and multicultural past, making it mundane as well as exceptional, and inspiring efforts to find the roots of transformation in a shared history that could serve as the basis for new regional connections in the future. Likewise, NewGen V’s dream of a radical re-orientation of individual perceptions is given life in a concrete design for an eminently buildable and physically tangible residential youth community that would host the education of Israeli and Palestinian youth, preparing them today for a future yet to be built tomorrow.

Given the tangible obstacles to producing real change, as well as the desire to transcend or work through these constraints and limitations, how does one know what expands the future and the possibilities for peace? Poetry or pragmatics, creativity or capitulation, negation or negotiation? What is needed most in Jerusalem now?