The tale of many Jerusalems: what would a peaceful Middle East look like? A fable about politics, culture, and commerce.

• Author: Freund, Charles Paul

Two elderly men with long gray beards were exhausting themselves beating on the door of Abu Simsim, a small-time confectioner of Jerusalem. Just how long the old men had been there they themselves could not have told you, but it was long enough so that their dignity was gone, their palms were sore, and their voices cracked and tired. Even so, Abu Simsim wouldn't answer.

"In the name of all that is righteous, Abu Simsim, open your shop! May God favor you and make you the father of many sons, but only if you unlock this door now!" Thus called the increasingly desperate Abu Zeid, a lifelong student of the mysteries of the spirit, a seeker of the truth, and a follower of the Path. Abu Zeid had followed the Path all his life, never dreaming that it would someday lead him to the door of a maker of sweets, much less one who was as lazy and good for nothing as this one. Indeed, one who would actually lock the door in his face. Abu Zeid groaned in frustration.

"We beg you, Abu Simsim, for love of Abraham our father, to let us into your shop!" So beseeched Rabbi ben Ezra, the other old man, who was a finder of hidden meanings, a mathematician of the universe, and an initiate of the cabalistic Tree of Life. Through many years Rabbi ben Ezra had pondered the meaning of this Tree, never imagining that perched at its top would be a shop of sweets, much less one run by such a dog as this one. The rabbi tore at his beard and rattled the door by its handle. "Abu Simsim, for the sake of Jerusalem, sell us your halawa!"

"My halawa? For the sake of Jerusalem? Have you both awakened mad on the same morning?"

Abu Simsim was leaning out the second-floor window of his shop, staring down on the white hairs of the old mystics. At the sound of his voice they started, looking first left, then right, then finally craning their necks. At the sight of him, their eyes grew wide, and they embraced, murmuring, "God be praised." Abu Simsim slammed his shutters closed and disappeared again.

"Wait!" they shouted together. "Come back!" It was Rabbi ben Ezra, younger by a few seasons, who had the strength to call out, "Open up, dear Abu Simsim, or we'll break into your shop and steal your halawa."

The shutters slammed open again. "Tell me, oh fathers of wisdom, what is so wondrous about my halawa that you must steal it from me, lose your honor, and force my children to go hungry?"

Halawa in the Hashemite Kingdom

Ben Ezra and Abu Zeid exchanged glances. In fact, much depended on their obtaining some of his halawa, the more of it the better. But how could they tell him that? How could they tell him that they had had it in their grasp to transform Jerusalem, and make it at last into a city of peace! A dream of ages was at hand. All that was necessary was some of Abu Simsim's halawa.

"It's my fault," Abu Zeid said uneasily. "I...I cannot live without your halawa. It's like the nectar of Paradise!"

"May God favor you for saying so," answered the maker of sweets, "but you are lying. It is not at all like the nectar of Paradise. It is only crushed sesame, a lot of honey, and yet more sugar. Every confectioner in Jerusalem makes it the same way, though the Jewish ones call it 'halvah.' It leaves your mouth so coated that nothing quenches your thirst, and your fingers so oily that you dare touch nothing of value for hours. Everyone who gorges on it soon regrets his lack of judgment. And yet two worthy scholars threaten to break into my shop to obtain it. How can this be?"

"Truly," offered the rabbi while searching for his words, "your halawa is...unique. Only last night my daughter was praising it."

"But I know your daughter well, rabbi. May God grant her many years. She hates halawa more than I do. In any event, the shop is closed today."

"But how can you say such a horrible thing!"

"How? You know how, my learned teachers. Are we not in Jerusalem?"

"Of course we are."

"And have we not been part of the United Hashemite Kingdom of Greater Jordan lo these many years, thanks to our teachers the British?"

"We have been," responded the rabbi, "though it was a great surprise to my neighbors to find themselves Western Jordanians after the Second Great War, when after the First Great War they thought they'd be Southern Syrians."

"As you say," continued the confectioner. "And is not our kingdom in everlasting strife with our royal neighbors the Sauds?"

"It is," answered Abu Zeid while glancing around. "Our king, may he rule long and wisely, covets Hijaz, the land of the holy cities of Mecca and Medina ruled by his ancestors. He says that the kingdom was stolen from his family with the connivance of our teachers the British and given to a band of unworthy desert dwellers. In response, the Saudis send raiders across the Jordan border. These raids are supported by the Egyptians, who dislike the prospect of Hashemite power. Hashemite counterstrikes are likewise supported by Egypt, because Cairo distrusts Saudi influence. In return, both the Hashemites and the Saudis support the rebels in Sudan, or what Cairo calls the Southern Nile Valley."

"It is so," answered the confectioner. "And has not our king, may God grant him health and judgment, now declared himself Caliph and called a pilgrimage to Jerusalem in place of the one to Mecca?"

"He has," agreed the learned Abu Zeid. "He has based his act on the work of the sage Ya'qubi, who records that the Dome of the Rock was built as a place of pilgrimage by the Caliph Abd Al-Malik, who then forbade the pilgrimage to Mecca. Ya'qubi describes this as a power struggle between the Damascus caliphate and rebels in Arabia, and claims that for decades pilgrims circumambulated the Dome. But Ya'qubi wrote long after Abd Al-Malik ruled and is alone in making such a claim. Perhaps he made the story up."

"The issue," said the sweets maker, "has escaped from the mouths of scholars and is today in our streets, for the pilgrims are here, are they not?"

"They are," answered Abu Zeid, "though this Jerusalem Hajj is considered a great blasphemy by many. Indeed, many have come from beyond the kingdom."

"From where, oh father of answers?"

"Some are surely agents of our royal neighbors the Sauds and have come to spread discord in the land of their Hashemite rivals. Others are surely members of the Sura 17 Movement."

"And who are they?"

Dangerous Days

"They are a curious group," answered Abu Zeid, "opposed both to the Hashemites and to the Sauds, who say they want to save Jerusalem from religion and Islam from political intrigue. They call themselves after the...