Free God's Gold by Sean Kingsley Page A

traditional site of the ancient well where Hagar and Ishmael rested after being banished from the home of Abraham and Sarah (Genesis 21:9–20). This action would elevate Jerusalem’s sanctity within Islam, making al-Aqsa as important as the Great Mosque in Mecca. The entire project is thus seen as a political Arab ploy to deny Israeli claims to a Jewish Temple Mount.
    Far more archaeologically destructive, however, was the dumping of 1,500 tons of soil extracted from the Mount across Jerusalem, mostprominently in the Kidron Valley east of the city walls, but also in the municipal city dump of El Azariah. The Waqf claims it has nothing to hide: the disturbed soil was mere fill lacking archaeological value. Conversely, elements of Israeli society accuse the Islamic clerics of de-Judaizing the Temple Mount and deliberately Islamicizing it.
    Clearly passions for these extremist positions run very high. I wanted to examine both sides of the argument. My fact-finding mission to the Temple Mount would attempt to flush out any destructive signs of major ancient cultural heritage. I also planned to speak to Dr. Eilat Mazar of the Hebrew University, an outspoken opponent of the development works and a high-profile member of Israel’s Committee for the Prevention of Destruction of Antiquities on the Temple Mount.
    As I walked through the Jewish Quarter of Jerusalem in April 2005, I was struck by the city’s extremes as a junction for the ancient and modern worlds. The ancient Jewish quarter of 2,000 years ago is today the center of global Jewish identity. Hasidic Jews traded kabbalistic blessings in the guise of red wool bracelets for hard cash. The Pinchas Sapir Jewish Heritage Center and Women’s Torah Institute straddle the ruined homes of Roman Jerusalem’s High Priests, rejuvenated as museums, and stores peddling Judaica, trinkets, cups, and T-shirts announced DON’T WORRY BE JEWISH and JERUSALEM, JUST DO IT . A fresh desert breeze rolled in from the southern Judean Desert.
    The Western Wall looks dry today; no signs of weeping. A cherry-picker crane, however, is parked on the sacred ground with its operator examining the wall and cheekily peering over its summit at what his Muslim brethren are up to. Bar mitzvah boys are proudly carried aloft on fathers’ shoulders. A grandpa tells his wide-eyed grandson, “This is the center of the world.” Past and present converge. The western outer wall of King Herod’s magnificent Jewish Temple dwarfs the plastic chairs and a diverse Israeli society. A crooked old man in traditional black Jewish garb retreats backward from the wall, bending down as he moves to touch the sacred ground and run his fingers down his chest in blessing. Another elderly man exits walking sideways for some esoteric reason. A Russian girl dolled up in a pink leather belt and matching lipstick wafts by. Jewish soup kitchens ring the Western Wall.
    As in antiquity, women and men are divided into different sections for worship along the Western Wall. So the women peer over a wooden screen and emit immensely shrill screams, a celebratory cacophony that seems more appropriate company for the tribal boiling of a Westerner in a remote African jungle. They throw silver glitter into the air, which twinkles like fairy dust in the midday sun—messages from God. White doves glide along the summit of the Temple Mount, offering peace to Jew and Muslim alike if they wish to seize it.
    At the checkpoint leading up to the Temple Mount, the police have a pressing security issue to tackle: confiscating Bibles. A white-haired English gentleman with a well-polished middle-class accent is quizzed about his brown book. “Is this a Bible,” he is asked. An emphatic no is the response. Much police huddling and discussion ensues. “Are you sure this isn’t a Bible?” reiterates the main security guard. The confused Englishman nods an affirmative. More huddling and finally the