Act One: Early morning in November. Dozens of people have congregated outside the doors of the Interior Ministry in Jerusalem. Security guards at the entrance to the building, which lies in the heart of the city’s western half, are surprised by the large numbers of Palestinians who want to participate in the Regional Planning and Construction Committee’s meeting. Only lawyers are allowed into the hall, where opposition to the creation of the “Slopes of Mount Scopus National Park” on the outskirts of the villages of Issawiya and a-Tur will be discussed. A veteran activist from Issawiya is demanding that the meeting be postponed until he and his friends are allowed access to the room, where the future of their lands will be decided. A police officer warns the man that he will be kept out if he doesn’t shut up.

The first person to speak is a representative of the Israeli Nature and Parks Authority, which initiated the project. He surprises all the attendees by telling them that his superior, Minister of Environmental Protection Amir Peretz, instructed him to request that the discussion be halted, now that he has been convinced that there is nothing of natural value in the region that is particularly sensitive. Though the minister’s position had been released earlier, it isn’t every day that the person behind the initiative asks to freeze his own plan. For the residents, who were eventually allowed access to the hall, it seemed for just a moment as if this was the end of the national park project, which would have prevented the expansion of the two Palestinian neighborhoods northeast of the city. But their hopes were gradually dashed. Most of the motions to oppose were rejected, and shortly before midnight, after 10 hours of debate, representatives of the Ministry of the Interior could notify Minister Gideon Sa’ar that the plan was on its way to be implemented. One hand erects ugly concrete walls around Jerusalem, while the other hand surrounds Palestinian neighborhoods with green parks. A few days earlier the prime minister had signed the release of 26 Palestinian prisoners. Now the minister of the interior was signing a plan to compensate the enraged right wing.

Act Two: The breathtaking view from the summit of Nebi Samwil, on the outskirts of the capital, 886 meters [2,907 feet] above sea level. More than a thousand people lived in this village when war broke out in June 1967. Most of them fled during the fighting. Israel demolished the village in 1971, and allowed the few remaining residents to relocate to the adjacent hilltop. Some 250 people now live there. They have since learned that the love Israelis have for green spaces knows no boundaries. In 1995, 3,500 dunams [865 acres] in the area were declared to be a national park. The space encompasses an impressive fortress and various antiquities, spread out over just 30 dunams [7.4 acres], as well as the alternative homes of the locals and most of the land that belongs to them.

The separation fence, built almost a decade ago, cuts through the park leaving a scar on the landscape. On the other hand, because of the threat posed to the natural environment, inspectors are quick to issue demolition notices for every home that the villagers dare to build, and orders to uproot any trees that they planted. A giant antenna with a cluster of remote controlled cameras on keeps tabs on everyone coming and going. The residents, who are officially defined as subjects of the West Bank, are forbidden to enter neighboring Jerusalem. On the other hand, their relatives who live on land under the jurisdiction of the Palestinian Authority are denied access to the village because it lies on the Israeli side of the separation fence.