Today, with about 250,000 people, Hebron is the largest Palestinian city and the commercial capital of the West Bank. It's a commotion of ramshackle commerce as its population generates about 30 per cent of the West Bank's economy. Just about an hour's drive from Jerusalem, it's a rewarding place to visit.
Hebron feels like a thoroughly Arab town, except for a small community of a few hundred determined Zionist Jews who live mostly on the high ground in the town centre. While it's not an easy place to live, they're driven by their faith, believing it's important not to abandon the burial site of their patriarch. And they're protected by a couple of thousand Israeli troops posted here for their security.
The Arab market was a festival of commerce, but checkpoints, security fences, and industrial-strength turnstiles are a way of life here. Walking down Hebron's boarded-up "ghost street" was not enjoyable. Meeting Jewish settlers, so vastly outnumbered, I felt a sense of embattlement on their part. A no man's land (with pro-Israel political art decorating shuttered buildings) divides the two communities.
The tomb of Abraham sits on a holy spot under a Crusader church. Its foundation wall — which dates back at least 2,000 years — is made of "Herod Stones," quarried and cut during King Herod's reign. Each stone — like the Western Wall so beloved by Jews back in Jerusalem — has a distinctive and decorative carved border.
Today, the building — called the Tomb of the Patriarchs because it houses Sarah, Isaac, and Jacob as well as Abraham — is divided to serve both Jewish and Muslim worshipers.
The site, tragic as well as holy, is split because of its bloody history. In 1994, during the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, a Jewish settler gunned down 29 Muslim worshipers here and wounded another 125 people. Since then, the holy spot has been divided — a half mosque and half synagogue — with each community getting a chance to pray at the tomb of Abraham separated by bulletproof glass.
On the mosque side stands a venerable "mimber" — a staircase from which the imam gives sermons. A standard feature in mosques, the mimber represents how teachers, spreading the word of the Prophet Muhammad to a growing number of followers, had to stand ever higher on a staircase to be heard. This one is a rare original from the 11th century made of inlaid wood with no nails, one of the oldest Islamic wooden pulpits in the world. And above the Muslim worshipers was the silent but very present Israeli security camera keeping a wary eye on things.
In this land — so treasured by Jews, Muslims, and Christians — I'm reminded that the prophets of each of these religions taught us to love our neighbours. Here's hoping the lessons learned while travelling in the Holy Land can inspire us all to strive for that ideal.
And each one has his own private god ...
To me it really doesn't matter, we're all human beings.
And there's nothing like finishing with the Personal Jesus song
Shalom. Salaam. Peace.