LIFE IN ISRAEL Shulamith - Katznelson, nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize, is coping with her new fame. Katznelson: Living with fame. Caus LARRY DERFNER Special to The Jewish News etanya — Shulamith Katznelson, nomi- nated at the beginning of last month for the Nobel Peace Prize, is in a panic. Rationally, she doesn't think she can win — her many ri- vals reportedly include Nel- son Mandela, George Bush and the Pope — but the dreamer in her is beginning to get the lofty, frightening idea `that she can. It is the morning staff meeting at Ulpan Akiva, the Hebrew-Arabic language school and multicultural en- counter group Ms. Katz- nelson started 41 years ago. She asks nicely for quiet. When that doesn't work, she -) hollers and smacks the table. "Quiet!" Satisfied finally, she con- , fides in her teachers: "We're at a very dangerous moment. I have a very ominous feeling, maybe the worst I've ever had N since being here. As high as we've climbed, that's just how far we could fall." What the danger is, nobody knows. But Ms. Katznelson is taking no chances. She im- plores her two dozen teachers and aides not to talk to the press. (They do anyway.) She's begun tape recording all her interviews. A single woman in her 60s, Ms. Katznelson needs one of the teachers, Shoshana (an Israeli Jew) or Samira (a Muslim from Gaza), to be with her at home during these first nervous nights after the nomination. "I've never felt so protected by all of you," she says, her eyes crinkling up into a smile. The teachers are gazing at Ms. Katznelson now, wrapped up in the urgency of their leader's message. They look about ready to walk through fire for her. Shulamith Katznelson has worked her charisma on the 52,000 or so students from about 125 countries who have studied at Ulpan Akiva, now housed in a former seaside hotel in the city of Natanya, north of Tel Aviv. They've in- cluded new immigrants, Pal- estinian doctors, Israeli soldiers, Christian pilgrims and Japanese Zionists. Arabs and Jews, fearful and hateful toward each other at first, room together and lose their hatred and fear — at least for each other, at least for the time being. They learn a new language, they learn the Torah and the Koran. They sleep in an Arab villa- ger's home, in a Bedouin tent, in a kibbutz. They learn each other's songs, dances, greet- ings, taboos. They live to- gether from anywhere from a week to five months, then go back to their own people. Often they stay in touch. Very often they return to Ulpan Akiva. Anecdotes abound, such as the one about the professor from Gaza who thought "all Jews were Nazis," and the Holocaust survivor who wouldn't sit next to him be- cause he was an Arab, and how they hugged each other before they went home. Ms. Katznelson is not the first Israeli citizen or Israeli enterprise trying to bridge the Jewish-Arab divide to be nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize. Neve Shalom, the Jewish-Arab settlement near Jerusalem, was one; the lef- tist magazine New Outlook was another; Mordechai Va- nunu, who thought he could make peace by divulging Is- rael's nuclear secrets, and who is now serving life im- prisonment for it, was another. But Ms. Katznelson is fun- damentally different from any of theln. She seems to bear a much closer affinity to the one Israeli who actually won the Peace Prize, Me- nachem Begin. She doesn't talk about pol- itics; it's like a dirty word with her. But inadvertently, she hints at her views. "Ju- dea, Samaria, Gaza, the Golan Heights — they're my heart," she says at the staff meeting. Talking over the phone about how to accom- modate more students, she says, "I can call up Arik Sharon and get all the mobile homes I want:' Later, she ad- mits this was wishful thinking. All Katznelson will say is that she has voted for parties across the political spectrum, and "the idea that if you love Arabs you're a dove, and if you love Eretz Yisrael you're a hawk — it's nonsense." The school has very close ties to the armed forces, which sends soldiers and of- ficers to learn Arabic, and to Israel's civil administration in the West Bank and Gaza, which sends Palestinian em- ployees to learn Hebrew. Staff members and students hold opinions ranging from Gush Emunim to PLO, but for the sake of shalom bayit — "peace in the home" — they check their politics at the front door. In her office, Nobel fever is running high. Alumni are calling in congratulations from around the country. A Russian immigrant alumna, whose blind son began emerg- ing from his shell only after Ms. Katznelson turned her af- fection on him, comes in to share a long, misty embrace with the nominee. A secretary announced ex- citedly, "It's Abdallah on the phone from South Lebanon:' Ms. Katznelson calls out, "Photo, photo," and a volun- teer snaps her in animated conversation. She hopes all of this Nobel notoriety will bring the school some financial support — to provide more scholar- ships for students, for a li- brary, a language laboratory, a music room. Ulpan Akiva can't afford them on the funds it gets from student fees, the Israeli government, two American Jewish founda- tions (the Meyerhoff and the Dorot) and a Norwegian one (called "Help Jews Home"). Ms. Katznelson's 1986 Israel Prize for Education — the na- tional equivalent of the Nobel — helped. Now she has en- tered a much bigger arena. It was a large band of pro- Israel Norwegian organiza- tions, dominated by Christian ones, which convinced a trio of Norwegian parliamentari- ans to nominate Ms. Katz- nelson before the Nobel committee, says Bjarne Schir- mer of Norway. This was done without Ms. Katznelson's knowledge. Now, with the prize winners to be an- nounced in October, endorse- ments are being sought from international personalities familiar with Ulpan Akiva. "I tried to keep a low pro- file before," Ms. Katznelson says, "but I'm not a virgin anymore. Now that I've been nominated, we're on a whole different level, and I have to try to win." Walking out of her office, she passes an American stu- dent. "How are you doing?" the student asks. "Learning to live with be- ing a Nobel nominee," Ms. Katznelson replies, without breaking stride. 0 THE DETROIT JEWISH NEWS 107