I am writing this text in the wake of a peace pilgrimage through Israel and Palestine. The pilgrimage was organised by the Middle-East team of the Peace Research Centre of Tamera, Portugal and was led by its co-founder Sabine Lichtenfels. Over 40 people from Israel, Palestine and many other countries walked for 25 days through the divided  Holy Land. We listened to the stories on both sides, became witnesses of the conflict on every imaginable level, we meditated alongside the Wall and shared our thoughts and feelings with the people. We had with us a vision of healing, i.e. communal thinking and acting as an alternative concept to the prevailing principle of separation that dominates this country in every aspect. Doors were opened which for a long time have believed to be closed. Visions were developed and a core group of people became more decided to plan a Peace Research Village in the Middle East. The pilgrimage became an example for political action totally carried and imbued by the spirit of community. With this experience behind me I am approaching the new perspective of international solidarity. 1. The term 'International Solidarity', its History and Perspective Solidarity means to perceive one self and others as being part of a larger whole. Solidarity is the realisation that no principal difference exists between my neighbour and my self. What might happen to any person, might happen to myself, hence, it does indeed happen to myself. Solidarity means mutual help and active support for each other. It is the source of enormous power, also politically. More and more I am moving towards the knowledge that we are all 'man, animal, plant, victim or aggressor , enemy or friend' part of the same larger whole. I am moving towards the perception of being One with you, meaning you and I are ultimately One. The tears of a Palestinian woman could equally be mine. The child in need in South America could be my child. The tortured man in Syria could be my son or my lover. This is the track of a political heart. Do I take this even further, I will not stop at the victims and the weak. I will include the aggressors too, the so called enemies. Also them we could be. For them too we need a vision, a healing, a solution. 'The guard at the concentration camp: As long as we do not recognise the he too could be us, it will happen again' says Claude AnShin Thomas, Zen Monk and Vietnam Veteran. The term 'international solidarity' is approximately 100 years old. Early, in the first prime of industrialisation the socialists made a discovery: a worker in Germany had more in common with a worker in America or Russia than he had with a bourgeois of his own country. Class and profession weigh more than nationality. It was the socialists that formulated the common experiences of the worldwide working class. Along those lines they unmasked the strategies of capitalism. Factory workers, going on strike for better working conditions, new that a worldwide movement stood behind them. Together they managed to scare those in power. Based on the power of international solidarity a political concept was founded that codetermined a whole century. The consciousness of international solidarity spread into other areas. More and more science imparted the knowledge of living on ONE planet, of being ONE humanity and, despite variety, everyone is sitting in the same boat. The ecological movement recognised the global threat to our home planet by environmental pollution. Environment groups worldwide extended the new term of international solidarity to animals, plants, all creatures and future generations. Meanwhile, in the age of global networking, this kind of thinking has become a matter of course. The more strongly Human Rights Organisations, Women Organisations, Refugee Organisations, Animal Protection Societies and Development Organisations act in the sense of international solidarity, the higher becomes their effectiveness. 2. International Solidarity and Community - History of a Search h5 class="western" style="margin-top: 0cm; margin-bottom: 0cm;" lang="en-GB">Long live international solidarity! Countless times I called out this sentence. It was written on the banners we carried during demonstrations. Solidarity with El Salvador, with Nicaragua, with Palestine, with countries and people I did not even know. I only knew that they had to suffer as a result of the life style we maintain in the Western world. I fought this political fight with fervour - against exploitation, against war, against US imperialism. I fought against the form of society and the life style of the generation of my parents - its madness I felt almost physically. Never have I wanted to be part of a world where one sits cosily in the living room while in other countries people die of war and hunger. Nevertheless, the people we fought for remained curiously abstract. I knew what I was fighting against. What might be worth fighting for, I did, at that point, still not know. My motivation was plain anger. But this, on the long term, was not enough. I began looking for other perspectives allowing me to go for a vision of a new world together with others, full-heartedly and with much ardour to live it and to concretely start to build it up. Why is it that to maintain our social live style we have to exploit people, landscapes and animals in far corners of the world? Why do we need so many consumer goods? Do we really need these? What kind of hunger is hidden behind this addiction? How would an alternative life look like, how would the love look like, how would I work and live together with others in such a way for happiness and safety to ensue which would be stronger than violence? And again, why after a demonstration, after a political action should one go home alone? Could this feeling for each other, for helping each other not be part of a larger whole and become the basis of ones entire life? 20 years ago the political fight opened forums in which these questions could be discussed publicly. I remember the times, when hundreds of young people after the fighting for houses in Berlin and Cologne sat together in old factories or cinemas to truly find out in what way they  could live to end this craziness. Alternative styles of living began to grow. Communities sprang up by the hundreds. All this was started with much elan but soon the experience was made that it was much easier to live community in the face of a political enemy than in the relative peace. The organisation of every day life, the communication, also about small things, truth in such realms as love, man/ women relationships, religion, power and money proved to be a greater challenges than the organisation of a mass demonstration had been. After an initial phase of blooming the communities basically produced the same world that they had initially intended to change. Hidden behind our revolutionary masks we proved to be the same anguished, jealous and power hungry petty bourgeois as were those of our parents generation! There was no way leading passed changing ourselves if we wanted to help the world. Ghandi said: 'We have to be the change we want to see in the world'. What would this mean when we think of the ownership in love? At this point most people give up. Others begin to concentrate on inner processes, ideas, and difficulties in such a way that they tend to forget why they got together in the first place and they end in contemplating their navels. 'To hell with Vietnam, I have a problem with orgasms', the student revolutionary, Rainer Langhans, was supposed to have said. Thus, many communities deprived themselves of their sources of power. It is the term of 'international solidarity' that demands from us to view our dark sides in order to change them. Most communities fail. Those who succeed, those who go all the way and do not leave international solidarity out of sight, have gained a large background of experience and a wealth of knowledge. For the political movement it could prove to be the knowledge of community that is to become the most precious high-tech knowledge. Know-how of food and energy supplies functioning independently of industry and state. Know-how of truthful communication Know-how of healing independent of pharmaceutical industries Know-how of conflict resolution Know-how of an antidote against loneliness, the main suffering of the human being All these are aces in the knowledge that is now being brought into the global peace movement, in the movement of international solidarity. The expression of international solidarity in the form of demonstrations, appeals and proclamations found its highlight in March 2003. Many millions of people all over the world marched in the streets in international solidarity with the people of the Iraq. It was the largest peace demonstration ever, flooding the towns of Berlin, Athens, New York, Barcelona, Rome, Sidney and many more. Nevertheless, it was not enough. The war took place with all its terrible consequences which we know. Although we knew that 80% of the population of Europe was behind us, we could not prevent it. Probably it would not have been possible even with ten times as many demonstrations. To be against the war and then carry on living as usual is obviously is not enough. The superpower of worldwide capital, the armament industry, the war itself is stronger. This war too was made by people. Behind all injustice and terror there are always people - and people are, finally, reachable. Therefore, there must be a possibility for global effectiveness. Obviously there is something missing. Maybe the time has now come where the experience of community contributes to a leap in quality needed in international solidarity. 3. Community as an Antidote against Separation - Example Peace Pilgrimage Middle East The Peace Pilgrimage through Israel/Palestine was a good example of such a leap of quality. It was possible only against the background of the long-standing community experience of our leading team, mainly Sabine Lichtenfels, who with her feminine knowledge was able to create trust even in the most difficult situations. November 2005: 40 people walk through Israel and the Westbank. Amongst them are Israelis and Palestinians, Germans, Swiss, Americans and other nationals. The youngest is 16, the oldest 71. It is again international solidarity that brought the people together, there in the Middle East, where separation, fear and violence prevails for many years. They are on a pilgrimage that leads them through Arabic and Jewish places. They meet peace workers from both sides, the speak with Israeli refuseniks and activists as well as Palestinian farmers, refugees and politicians. They become witnesses of street fights and visit military camps in which teenagers are probing the war. They visit refugee camps where people, some since up to 60 years, are living in indescribably cramped conditions still dreaming of their villages and homes. They visit the ruins of Arabic villages, empty, with only the wind sweeping through. Where ever they go they carry with them their white banners and wearing white scarves with the word 'Grace' written on them. They sleep in tents and in olive groves, in communal buildings of the PLO, in Israeli Kibbuzim, in the refugee camp, in Bedouin tents and in the houses of Palestinian clans. They meditate along side the wall which seals off the occupied territories, they help with the olive harvest, visit the Holocaust Museum, speak with young Hamas fans and surviving bomb victims. They become witnesses of a conflict that takes place on every imaginable level. They do not find an enemy. They only find people. People whose pain, anger and fear they share. They also find courage and the longing for peace in unexpected places. Most of the participating Israelis travel through occupied territory for the first time. Fear and absurd regulations have kept them from doing so up to this moment. For the first time they witness the 'other side', expose themselves to the emotions that come up facing the effects of the politics of their own government. Feelings of guilt, helplessness, despair and anger mix with an almost panic-like fear. Under the protection of the international group they discover the human face of the enemy. Many moving scenes are happening. 'Welcome, welcome', says Yousran, our host in a Palestinian village. 'Our house is your house'. 'Thank you', I say. 'This is Michal. She comes from Israel'. 'Israel'? There is a moment of paralysis. Never before did Yousran meet an Israeli who is not wearing a uniform. Then her face twitches. 'Welcome, welcome this house is your house'. A talk begins, a talk which neither of them has ever had before. Today Michal keeps in touch with Yousran and supports her financially so that her daughters can terminate their studies. A wall, 600km long cuts through the so called Holy Land. Israel-Palestine is a land where the principal of separation is stretched to its limits. Cultures, religions and nationalities are divided. The walls of fear, ignorance and anger seem impenetrable. During our pilgrimage we are searching for the antidote to the virus of separation. In our daily sharing circle we are witnessing moving realisations and decisions, often pertaining to the smallest and most ordinary daily occurrences. 'You never look at me', says Mustafa to Daniel in the sharing circle. 'You talk with everyone else except with me. Why is this so?' Daniel, an Israeli peace worker realises that he has grown up in a society which has taught him not to perceive Arabs as human beings. From then on the two of them had a lot to say to each other. 'I have never met such people as you are', said one of our Palestinian guides. 'You all look as if you were married to each other'. In his culture community exists only in terms of a large family or a clan. Soldiers stop us in an olive grove in the Westbank. They are Bedouins, i.e. Arab Israelis, who are posted to Palestine and are part of the occupying troops. Their task is to guard their brothers with whom they share the same faith. Bedouins, themselves a minority, are regarded as particularly hard people. Sabine asks them to let us carry on with our sharing circle without disturbance. What surprise! They ask to be permitted to join us. The apple goes around, passes from one to the other. The one who holds it is to speak. The soldiers in uniform, with helmets and machine guns are listening to our people who express their impressions and feelings. This seems an unusually interesting day to these occupying soldiers doing their service... They are not much older than our youngest participants and are visibly drawn between duty and interest. When the apple reached them they put their guns down. 'You are doing the right thing', one of them says. 'I would love to go along with you'. Another: 'I do not believe in peace. Why not? If the children here are hungry I give them to eat. They take it, but when I turn around they throw stones at me. No, I do not believe in peace, because THEY do not want peace'. How often did we hear such words. Yes, we want peace but the others they don't. Fayez is a Palestinian farmer whose land was destroyed by Israelis. For years he sat in jail. He guides us through the Westbank. When the apple reached him he began his unforgettable talk. 'Everything that has destroyed my life I see reflected in these uniforms. Not in you, but in the uniforms you wearing. You are young. I can see in your eyes that you are not married yet. I feel what your parents feel when you leave the house in the morning'. At this moment he starts to cry vehemently. 'Your parents are afraid, they are very much afraid that you might die. They feel just as I do when I see my children. They are 15 and 17 and since our land has been destroyed the walls of their rooms are full of posters depicting suicide bombers. I am afraid that my children will one day take revenge on your children. We can now stop it.' One of the soldiers gets up and brings him water. Fayez has never had the opportunity to talk in such a way to soldiers. We also visit Jewish settlements. Settlers are the 'bad people', we were warned by our Palestinian friends. Settlements, their access roads and dozens of check points cutting through the entire Westbank, make it impossible for Palestinians to move and travel freely. Again we do not meet enemies, rather the opposite. It is like having a look into the mirror. What they have built up in the middle of the Middle East looks too much like any European residential area for it to be ignored. To ignorantly shut oneself off from ones surroundings, to build a fortress, to overlook the neediness of the neighbours, to take from them land, rights and mobility - well, to accuse this state of affairs is to accuse our European way of living. The only difference is that in Europe those who are exploited and shut out are farther away! We hear stories of an almost child-like faith telling that God wants to have them in this country. Ignorance, justification and being strangers vis-a -vis the world, also fear and confusion is what we see. But, the more they notice that we do not judge them but want to understand them we also hear their questions and their wish for peace. Certainly these people are no enemies. The enemies are the ignorance and the indifference. The virus of separation is rampant not only amongst Israelis and Palestinians. Everyone has the mirror held up to him a thousand times by the daily challenges of being together on this pilgrimage. 'I have fought so much. I have turned my life into a fortress against the truth. Incredible, how much I stand on the side of war, although I have written peace on my banner'. We refuse to be enemies. What are the connotations this sentence has when projected on our own life, on our own love? An older female participant, a real veteran of the peace movement says: 'It is for the first time that I am together with a group for this length of time without internal fighting breaking out'. Community proved to be a real antidote against the virus of separation. An atmosphere grew in which it was possible to truly look for and think about concrete solutions. We have planted a seed of peace from which we hope that will germinate. For sure the children will throw stones again when we leave. For sure the soldiers will take some children to jails, for sure settlers will attack farmers or vice-a- versa or in other words:  many impulses and heart openings which we may have induced will die away again. But a vision has been created and a core group has commit itself  to a Peace Research Village in the Middle East, for which concrete preparations are underway. 4. The Adventure After 20 years, the term 'international solidarity' has gained another context and another sound for me. It has been filled with names, faces, life stories, fates, mutually shed tears and shared experiences. Solidarity connotes sympathy and connection. It is in community that I learned about the walls I draw between myself and others. It is the very same wall that, in a larger context, leads to conflict and war. In community I learn to overcome this wall more and more. Without community I would hardly have found a way to effect such inner growth. It is a life-long study and I am grateful for it. Communities are human biotopes to me offering the opportunity to remove the bolt from the heart. May these experiences repeat themselves more often and within a global context. Political work, in terms of 'International Solidarity' and of 'Community Development' and including all its processes of growth are two aspects of the same thing. When these come together we enter into a most exciting human adventure. And more so: I perceive it to be a great resource for the resolution of conflict and for the creation of another world.