There are no tourists in Bethlehem this Christmas. The relic sellers are desperate on the almost deserted streets and the clergy are preparing for unusual holidays: without believers, but with many prayers for these difficult times.
In Bethlehem, in December last year, a multitude of air-conditioned buses carried tens of thousands of tourists to this small Palestinian town, less than ten kilometers from Jerusalem, behind a concrete wall built by Israel.
In the Basilica of the Nativity, there were almost elbows to contemplate, for a few minutes, the cave in which, according to tradition, Christ was born more than 2,000 years ago.
But this year, the basilica is empty.
Under the nave, in the Cave of the Nativity, four monks almost in a trance recite their prayers in Armenian. Their voices reverberate in the cavity, in the midst of the incense smoke.
“God’s love fills this place, this holy place, to tell us: do not be afraid, I am with you, all this will pass and I will continue (…) And thank God, Christmas always exists and gives meaning to all. hope, peace and encourages donation, “said Rami Asakrieh, the father of Bethlehem Parish in the occupied West Bank.
“Sometimes more than half a million people came to the basilica during the holidays, but this year, with coronavirus, there are many health restrictions (…) There is less trade, but more religion,” he says.
This year, on the night of December 24, there will be no mass with an audience in the basilica, nor will there be the presence of Palestinian leaders, led by President Mahmoud Abbas. The Christmas Mass with priests only will be transmitted to the whole world
– “Pain and pain” –
In the last days before Christmas, the Chapel of Santa Catalina, next to the Basilica of the Nativity, was opened to the local public.
“Christmas is a celebration of joy and peace for all peoples, but this year, due to the pandemic (…) depression prevails,” complains Nicolas al-Zoghbi when he left the Mass, talking about the “pain and sorrow” of those who, as and his son, they lost their jobs, for example.
“We hope that the Lord will destroy the coronavirus and that we will be able to return to our previous lives,” says the 70-year-old.
On the street, the local economy is crushed.
“I haven’t sold anything for nine months, and in the last few days I’ve sold (items) for a total value of 170 shekels ($ 52),” says Georges Baboul, desperate, sitting in front of his store.
“I’ve been in this business for 60 years and I’ve never seen anything like it in my life,” he says, not even during the Palestinian uprisings in the West Bank, a 1967 Israeli-occupied territory.
“You are the first customer to enter my store in March … we are dying,” laments Seif, a young Muslim salesman.
– No gifts in Gaza –
Without foreign tourists, traders in Bethlehem cannot count on the hundreds of Christians in the Gaza Strip, a Palestinian territory under Israeli blockade, who cross Israeli territory to visit Bethlehem.
“I did not have permission this year because of the coronavirus pandemic,” said Father Yusef Asad of the Latin monastery in Gaza.
Like the mosques in this enclave, under Hamas control, the Latin church is closed to the public and the masses are broadcast online.
Isa Abu Georges, who could not buy gifts for her children, watches the masses online.
At Christmas, “my family and I will pray to God that the pandemic will end and peace will prevail in the Holy Land and in the world.”