The baby and the bath water

The saying "don't throw the baby out with the bath water" dates back to 16th century Europe. People bathed in tubs, from the oldest members of the family to the youngest. The last ones to be bathed were the babies, who were dunked into water that was already dirty, and if a person lifted a tub, they might find a little baby who had been thrown out along with the water.

Today, babies are bathed in clean water at a precise temperature, and there is still a danger -- even if it is metaphorical -- that the babies could be thrown out with the bath water. The High Court wants to demolish 20 square meters (215 square feet) of housing in the Beit El settlement built on legally disputed land. That's the water. But those 20 meters of housing are attached to a contiguous structure consisting of 44 housing units in all. The court wants to throw out the baby and demolish all 44 apartments.

The contractor, Dranoff, started construction on the buildings -- located in the western part of Beit El -- about five years ago. During the construction it turned out that the corner of one of the buildings extended beyond the boundary of the settlement. The government promised to arrange the matter as part of an agreement on the 2012 evacuation of the Ulpana neighborhood, and the contractor continued to build.

How do you "arrange" a corner? You move the border of the community 20 meters (65.5 feet) to the west. The state promised to expedite the planning and approve the plan, the process began with the support of the Civil Administration, but the High Court put its foot down and demanded that everything be demolished. There are hundreds of unauthorized homes in Israel in various stages of being "arranged," but in this case -- where there was a promise of a permit within a month -- the High Court is charging ahead toward demolition because it decided, and the decision is final. The ones who are being punished are the residents of Beit El, who by the end of the month will be staring down the bulldozers approaching their homes.

This is not the only story of this kind. Here is another, even more unbelievable tale: During the planning process for the Eli settlement, members of the Civil Administration reviewed maps and old aerial images to ensure that the land was not owned by anyone, dating as far back as the days of Turkish rule. And there, in the heart of the Givat Hayovel neighborhood, was a rectangle of territory that in the old images appeared to have been farmed. The High Court is ordering that everything standing on that same rectangle be razed: two homes, a few square meters of a third home, and a section of road. No Palestinians own the mysterious rectangle. No one is claiming that the land belongs to them. The owner could be Turkish, he could have passed away, he could never have been born. Even if we assume that it's reasonable to knock down the two homes in the center of a settled neighborhood (and that the Palestinian owner, if he were found, would come and build his own home there), what about the few meters of the third home?

An engineer who looked into the matter determined that demolishing those few meters would cause the entire house to collapse. And there you have it -- the baby thrown out with the dirty bath water. The High Court insists on demolition. And if the house collapses, let it. The court is also demanding that section of road that crosses the "rectangle of scandal" be razed, which will require the paving of a new road not far away at tremendous cost. The settlers suggested that if the unknown owner appeared, they would offer him a different plot of land of the same size, the same value, and the same quality. This is allowed and feasible under the zoning re-appropriation bylaws. But the High Court said "no."

Nine years ago, nine beautiful homes in the Amona settlement were demolished for a similar reason. Until now, no one has appeared to claim the land. What's left is nine piles of building rubble, monuments to self-righteousness.

טעינו? נתקן! אם מצאתם טעות בכתבה, נשמח שתשתפו אותנו