Visitors are flocking back to Jesus's birthplace but border controls mean Israelis call the shotsDawn Lawrence pulls her wheeled suitcase up and down the narrow, cobbled streets of Bethlehem. Shouts of "welcome, welcome" ring out as she passes shopkeepers standing in the doors of their stores selling carved wooden biblical figures. Lawrence pays no attention to them. She has a mission: finding a place to spend the night in this Palestinian town, amid an unprecedented tourist boom."I believe in God, and he told me to come to see the place where Jesus was born," says Lawrence, 49, now in the reception of a third hotel.This is the first visit to Bethlehem for the British pilgrim, who recently worked as a missionary in the Philippines. Unlike most of her fellow tourists, Lawrence has decided to stay for several nights. Also, unlike others, she is not scared of travelling by herself in the Middle East conflict zone. "I am trusting God," she says.Opposite the cemetery that sits behind the Church of the Nativity, Lawrence finds a haven. A hotel receptionist offers her a single bed for �52 a night, but only until Christmas Eve.Outside, Manger Square ? the heart of the city and the site of the Church of the Nativity ? bustles with activity. A couple of municipal employees load a van with dozens of plastic Christmas trees. Other workers hammer at a stage where bands will perform. Crowds of families and university students wander across the square, carrying their Christmas shopping. Meanwhile, the local youngsters kill time in the sun-bathed terraces, tourist-watching and smoking narguile, the Arab water pipe.This is today's scene. But not so long ago Bethlehem was a city under curfew, where only Israeli soldiers and armed Palestinian militants dared take to the streets. Where only humanitarian workers and the most committed pilgrims had the courage to venture.But a radical improvement in the security situation over the past few years, after the end of the second intifada, has reversed the trend and allowed tourists to pour in. The problem, say the authorities, is that Bethlehem's boom is not a very profitable one ? at least not for many Palestinians. Most visitors spend too little time and cash in a city where the constraints of the Israeli occupation have dramatically diminished sources of employment, apart from tourism. The majority of visitors come by bus, spend a couple of hours in the church and then return to Israel, where they spend most of their holiday money."It is true that this is a record year and that we have never received so many tourists in Bethlehem. The problem is that we only get 10% of the tourist revenues. The rest stays in Israel," complains Palestinian tourism minister Khouloud Daibes. A total of 1.4 million people have visited Jesus's birthplace this year, a 60% increase compared with last year. According to the minister, 70%-80% of this year's tourists are one-day visitors.The fate of Bethlehem as a tourist destination is inevitably linked to Israel. There is no Palestinian airport, which means visitors either have to land in Tel Aviv or arrive from Jordan and cross an Israeli-controlled border. Daibes says one of the consequences is that Israeli operators dominate the tourist itineraries."There is a big demand to visit Palestine as part of Holy Land trips, but there is also a very aggressive promotional strategy by the Israelis to shorten the stay of tourists in Bethlehem," says Daibes. "The guides tell them that this is not a safe place and take them back to Jerusalem as fast as possible. The fact that the government does not allow Israeli citizens to enter Palestinian towns, along with the checkpoints and the restrictions of movement also increases the feeling of insecurity."Rafi Ben-Hur, deputy director general of the Israeli ministry of tourism, strongly rejects the criticism. "We don't know what kind of campaign she is talking about. We do a lot to promote Bethlehem. I believe in collaboration with the Palestinians. It's in our mutual interest." He adds that the two sides have launched a pilot project in which they have granted 200 permits for Israeli guides to work in Bethlehem and walk the clients into the hotels.Paradoxically, Bethlehem suffers from having both too few and too many tourists. The volatile political situation means that, so far, hardly any big international chains have decided to build hotels in the city. Meanwhile, as Lawrence found out today, family businesses are struggling to meet the demand at peak times such as Christmas. "We are still waiting for a breakthrough in infrastructure investment," says Ben-Hur.Along with the establishment of law and order on the West Bank, the arrival of Russian tourists is another driver of the Bethlehem boom. Indeed, the inflow of Russians is one of the few collateral benefits of Israel's control of the tourist flux to the occupied Palestinian territories. In September 2008, the Israeli foreign minister, Avigdor Lieberman, finally managed to push through a visa exemption for Russians travelling to Israel. The move triggered a massive rise in visitors not only to Israel but also to places of pilgrimage such as Bethlehem.Almost a quarter of visitors to Bethlehem this year have been Russian. In response, the Palestinian government has embarked on an ambitious programme to teach Russian to local guides and is attending tourism fairs in Moscow three times a year. Next month, a Russian museum and guest house will be inaugurated in Jericho, which is nearby.Back in Manger Square, at the door of the Nativity church, Anya Stonlake, a Russian contemporary art dealer who lives in London, is chatting to two priests with whom she and her family are travelling. Stonlake, a Russian Orthodox woman who covers her head to go into the church, explains the visa issue "makes a big difference, because there are many other countries where visas are required for the Russians, so it suddenly became very easy to come here".Minutes after Stonlake's family leaves, one of several recent VIP visitors drops in on the church. Lithuanian prime minister Andrius Kubilius and his entourage arrive in a fleet of black Mercedes, creating a stir among the local children, who decide to play policemen and remove steel barriers to make room for the convoy.Life in Bethlehem has long revolved around Manger Square. Coffee houses, falafel stands, traditional sweetshops and the local market are all working at full speed. The souvenir shops have a less certain income. While the owners of the stores that receive the tourist buses from Israel become millionaires, those that are not on the same circuit struggle to survive. "The guides don't give freedom to the tourists to walk around because they think we Palestinians are dangerous people," says Angela Giacaman, who sells figures her brother carves from olive wood. "They go from the bus to the church and from there to a prearranged shop where the agents get a 40% commission. They treat the tourists like flocks of sheep. They even tell them which toilet to go to," she adds.Rami Kassis realised 15 years ago that there are many tourists who don't feel comfortable with this cattle- herding approach, even in conflict zones like the Middle East. He founded his Alternative Tourism Group: "Our focus is not to show the religious or historic sites. We try to show the other side of Palestine and to facilitate contacts with the local population, NGOs, refugees from the camps? there are many people who want to learn about our reality," he says.For most "alternative" tourists, the main attraction is the 8m wall on three sides of Bethlehem. The wall is covered with graffiti, often consisting of political slogans left by tourists and activists from around the world. "Tear down this wall", "Ich bin ein Berliner" and "Give me freedom" share concrete surface with large pieces by British graffiti artist Banksy.Israel says it built the barrier to prevent the entry of suicide bombers into the country, while Palestinians bitterly complain of being cut off from Jerusalem and parts of the West Bank. Only those Palestinians who have been granted permits can cross the wall through a checkpoint. The majority of the permit holders are Palestinian builders, many of whom lay bricks in the Jewish settlements.Musa, a Spaniard from Barcelona, is busy redecorating a section of the wall with brightly coloured sprays. She arrived the day before with a group of female artists who plan to spend a week in Bethlehem. "I had read about the wall, but you only realise what it means once you see it. People here are encircled like in a fish bowl," she says.A few yards from Musa, Palestinian workers cross the checkpoint on their way home after spending the day on an Israeli building site. They carry empty lunch boxes and look tired. Their home town is experiencing a tourist boom, but they do not seem to notice.Palestinian territoriesPalestineIsraelguardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2011 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds
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