East Jerusalem West Jerusalem | David Broza | TEDxJerusalem

This talk was given at a TEDx event using the TED conference format but independently organized by a local community. Learn more at http://ted.com/tedx

Israeli superstar David Broza has been considered one of the most dynamic and vibrant performers in the singer/songwriter world, captivating audiences worldwide with his famous guitar playing.  "East Jerusalem West Jerusalem", David Broza's most recent album and companion documentary film, relates the unlikely and engaging story of Israeli, Palestinian and American musicians working together for 8 days and nights in a Palestinian recording studio.

Known for his commitment to several humanitarian causes, predominantly, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, Broza's 30 albums speak of peace and love.  His hit song "Yihye Tov" has become an anthem to the peace process.

(Guitar music)

(Singing) Don’t want
to preach to no one tonight

Just want to tell my tale

When the sun will rise tomorrow

It will shed a light
on some facts from hell

Clouds are floating in the sky

Shift the mood so fast

Like on the streets of Jerusalem

Where the quiet’s not meant to last

I'm gonna find you tonight

I'm gonna count from one to three

I'm gonna feel the peace within me

With you right here next to me

I was born into this reality

I was brought up with a war

It doesn’t mean I must accept this

Don’t wanna fight no more

Young people from all over

Stray away and cross the lines

It’s a dialogue that we’re seeking

And we’re running out of time

I'm gonna find you tonight

I'm gonna count from one to three

I'm gonna feel the peace within me

With you right here next to me

I'm gonna find you tonight

I'm gonna count from one to three

I'm gonna feel the peace within me

With you right here next to me

I'm gonna find you tonight

I'm gonna count from one to three

I'm gonna feel the peace within me

With you right here next to me

With you right here next to me

With you right here

Next to me

(Singing and music ends)

(Applause)

Thank you.

It's a real honor to be here,
be part of this wonderful day,

listening to so many inspiring
stories and discoveries.

My discovery is just
the power of music really,

and it has taken me 38 years of a career

to really understand it,
and to bring it forward, and to use it,

not just here in Jerusalem, in Israel,
in the Middle East but wherever I go.

I don't mean to fix the world,

and I don't think that I'm going
to change the world at all,

I'm going to change my world,
and this is what makes me happy.

I started my career 38 years ago.

I started just by playing love songs,
I still play love songs.

But it's those places
where I play those love songs

that make a difference for me.

And I think, and I hope, and I try
to make a difference on others

as I entertain and play
in some impossible situations:

could be by a bedside in a hospital,
could be in a war zone,

could be just in an accident area,

or just some bereaved people,
and parents, and friends.

But this story that I want
to tell you, briefly,

which belongs to an album actually,

and this song that I just sang,
"One to Three", is the first song

that I wrote for this album.

It's an album that is called
"East Jerusalem West Jerusalem".

It wasn't really the name
I thought this would be,

but it's how it happened
and how it worked out to be.

I'd been working all my life

- besides doing music and playing -

in manifestations, being socially active,

but I never talked about it,
I never really recorded it,

never really wanted to profess
about it, or brag about it.

But this is a time when I felt
that I could, and I had to.

I've been working here in East Jerusalem

for the past 16 years, since 1999.

I don't know if I should call it work.

Most of the time, me and my friends,

who are very prominent
Palestinian musicians and artists,

I don't think we play music
most of the time.

We have coffee, we have
a lot of kebab, a lot of salads,

a lot of downtime;
most of the time, we just hang out.

And I'm always ready
with my guitar to sit and play,

but there is also something that you learn
about building a relationship,

and that is building a relationship:

caring about those who you're with,
listening to them, laughing,

making stupid jokes
even on the most awkward situations

of which there are so many here
in the Middle East.

We've been through Intifadas
and we've been through wars,

and we've always kept together.

I've always come up from Tel Aviv
- which is my home -

driving into East Jerusalem,

feeling the safest I could ever feel
amongst my friends and my peers.

Sixteen years of this friendship,

calmly and actually
in a very Middle Eastern fashion

which, I think, the motto of it,
somewhat of like the Spaniards,

who, I've learned to know over the years,
always use the "mañana" term,

as to "Don't rush, can do it tomorrow."

Well, here in the Middle East, we say,
in Arabic one says, "Shwy shwy."

Slowly, slowly, one step at a time.

See, as an Israeli,
I want to tick it all at once.

I have an idea, I want to have it,
haven't happened the next day.

But that is not the way things are.

It's not only about Palestine,
or Israel, or Middle East,

this would be the same about any
of the indigenous people around the world.

Ancient people have much longer
time to figure things out.

So about four years ago,
one of my friends, a Palestinian musician,

said to me, "So, David, when are you going
to bring that project of yours together

that you've talked about
so many times ever so often?"

I was just waiting for that.

Because I thought I was the one who had
the burning fire in me to get it happen.

Well, he didn't finish that sentence,

and already my head
was working in triple mode,

I was running in my head,
"How do I do it?"

So I started writing songs.

I told them, "Don't worry, I'll bring
the production here into the studio."

And I started writing songs,

the first of which is the one I opened
this conversation with, "One to Three".

I wrote more songs,

and all of them came out in English,
and all of them were telling the story.

To some degree, it's a personal
story mixed with love,

to some degree,
it's anxiety, anxiousness,

wanting to see the end to war,

I don't know how and why it so happened.

But then I had to recruit and bring

the musicians
and the production into place.

I thought, you know, that the music
would be the biggest obstacle.

All these years I've been out here

in East Jerusalem,
with my Palestinian friends,

it was just me from Tel Aviv,
sometime my kids, my wife,

but I was alone.

None of my musicians ever really
accepted an invitation.

They were rather reluctant to come

when they found out
they were busy doing other things.

But this time, as I was progressing
with this production,

I thought, OK, let's tackle
the first hurdle,

let's see if my Israeli band
would come from Tel Aviv for once

and see what I see, feel what I feel,
and experience this wonderful place,

and the comradery that can be built
and that can be a bridge,

and that can make us happier
and feel safer with each other.

So on a way to show in this crammed van,

as I was portraying to my friends
what music I was writing,

and that I was about to go to the studio
to produce the next album,

I could see that their ears were perked

and they were really
eager to be part of it,

but I was not inviting them yet,
I just got their interest, all focused.

A day later, on another trip to a show,

I told them, "I'm thinking of inviting
you, guys, to this production."

And everybody is, "Yes! So cool!

We can't wait to do an album
once again with you."

I said, "Yeah, but we're going to do it
in the studio in East Jerusalem,

It's a Palestinian studio."

And right away, the conversation
went elsewhere.

Suddenly, we were talking
about general news issues

and just nerve-wrecking stories
that were not of interest to me.

Anyhow, I realized that I'm going
to have to work a little longer.

The following day, I'm asking,

"OK, I'm thinking of really booking
the studio now. I'd like you to come."

They said, "Well...

Suddenly, and for the first time,

- see, we're a bunch of men
in this band of mine,

and, well, rock-and-rollers
are supposedly tough guys -

and suddenly, there is, "Well, OK...

- unanimously -

we're going to ask our wives."

(Laughter)

OK, tough guys.

(Laughter)

The next day, I wait.

I mean, we're in a crammed van,
no one can get away here.

And they say, "Well, the wives
are kind of reluctant, you know,

they don't want to be left alone
just with the kids..."

So I'm saying, "Wait a second.

First of all, I promise you
we're going to do it in 8 days."

Normally, an album can take weeks, months.
"We're going to do it in 8 days."

The only reason I said "8 days"
is that if I'd said "a week",

nobody would believe me
we could do it in a week.

"Eight days," that sounds
like a real, you know

(Laughter)

affordable and relaxed time
to make an album.

They said, "OK, well,
you know, we'll ask..."

I said, "No, no. Just tell your wives
that they're welcome to come.

There is a wonderful hotel nearby,
and I'll take rooms for everyone."

So the wives, the next day,
the message that I got was

there was nobody who could
take care of the kids.

I said, "What? In-laws? Parents? Cousins?

Bring them too! Just bring
the whole neighbourhood!

(Laughter)

Let's make it into a real event."

Anyway, sure enough, I got them to commit.

Now I had to get a producer.

If I'm going to get a producer,
it'd better be, maybe, an American one,

because it is all in English,
I want it to be Americana,

more American-flavored,
internationally-flavored.

So I started making lists, and I thought,

"OK, if I'm going to turn
to every producer I want,

most of them will say no

because they aren't comfortable
coming to Israel because of the boycott.

I'll go to the most extreme one first,

the one who I respect his views,
but I know he's a hard one to crack."

So I called Steve Earle.

He's one of the most respected
singers-songwriters and opinion makers,

and a real activist.

I called him first, I knew he would be
off the list immediately.

I didn't finish the sentence
that I want to bring

Israeli and Palestinian musicians
in the studio in East Jerusalem,

and he said, "Hey, man! I'm on.
When? Just tell me."

"Wait! I don't even have a budget."

"Forget the budget. I'm just coming."

So now I had him.

I announced to the Israeli musicians,
"OK, guys, we're on."

I set the date for January 20, 2013.

Now I had to convince
my Palestinian musicians.

This was a bit of a hurdle.

Some of them come under a lot of pressure.

So I figured even if they don't come,
I'll just be there with my musicians.

But what I will do is I will bring
Israeli and Palestinian chefs

who'd make us incredible banquets
every night with Michelin food,

superb Israeli wine, even whiskey

for those who really want to drink
and just get loosened up.

And you know what?

After the first night, when we had
over 100 people around the table,

- including the film crew
because I made a film out of it,

under the same name
"East Jerusalem West Jerusalem" -

we had all the musicians,
the engineers, and the waiters,

and then the friends,
and friends of friends,

and family, and wives, and children,

everybody was there,
I almost booked the entire hotel.

We spent eight days and eight nights,
and those Palestinian friends came,

and sure enough, after a couple
of glasses of wine and good food,

walked into the studio,
and we started playing together.

And eight days later, lo and behold,

I had my most beautiful album
recorded together with these people.

It was like a miraculous moment,

it was as if we had created
an utopic bubble in our world.

Now what we had to do is get on with it
and sing to the rest of the world

which is what I'm doing now
traveling around the world.

(Applause)

Thank you so much.

It's very inspiring,

and the most important thing
for me was to inspire others

to dare, to go over
that threshold, don't be afraid.

I don't know if you are a doctor,
an architect, a masseuse,

a poet, a philosopher; just engage!

Engage with out neighbours,

with our friends across the street,
across the wall, across any place,

whether you're in Israel, Palestine,
whether you're in Colombia, in Mexico,

whether you're in the Latin quarters
in some, so to speak, bad neighborhood,

don't be afraid!

Don't be afraid to cross over.

We're only people, and everybody
wants the same thing:

to feel safe by knowing each other,
or feeling each other out,

and knowing what to watch out for.

Don't believe the stories,
make them yourselves.

(Applause)

I started with the most recent
song that I've recorded.

I would like to, perhaps,
conclude this part of mine,

and perhaps, the entire event
- I believe I'm concluding the event -

with the first song I ever recorded.

This is the song I wrote
in 1977, 38 years ago.

It was November,
when the President Anwar Sadat of Egypt

set foot on Israeli soil
for the first time.

Watching this happen [was]
the most unbelievable moment

for my generation and others,
my parents' generation, and grandparents'.

I was with my good friend,
Israeli poet Yehonatan Geffen,

watching this,

as he was writing down
feverishly this poem,

and then handed it to me, and said,
"Why don't you write music?"

As if saying, "Do something
with your life, you know." (Laughter)

"You're sitting and just watching."

So I wrote music to it,
he gave me two days.

And hence, I wrote this song
called "Things Will Be Better",

as we say, "Yihye Tov".

(Guitar music)

(Applause)

(Singing in Hebrew)
I'm looking out the window

And it makes me kind of sad

Spring has long gone,
who knows if it'll return

The clown has become a king

The prophet has become a clown

And I have forgotten the way

But I am still here

Things will be better,
things will be better

Though I sometimes break down

So tonight, oh, tonight

It's you I'm staying with

Children wear wings,
and they fly off to the army

And after a couple of years

They come back with no answer

People live in stress
looking for a reason to breath

And between hatred and murder

They talk about peace

Things will be better,
things will be better

Though I sometimes break down

So tonight, oh, tonight

It's you I'm staying with

Up there in the sky

Clouds are learning how to fly

And I look up

And see a hijacked plane

A government of generals

Divide away the scenery

Into yours and ours

And no one sees the end of it

There came the president of Egypt

How rejoiced I was to see him

Pyramids in his eyes,
smoke of peace out of his pipe

We said, 'Let's make up
and live as brothers'

So he said, 'Let's do that

Just get out of the territories'

Things will be better,
things will be better, yeah

Though I sometimes break down

So tonight, oh, tonight

It's you I'm staying with.

(English) As I said, this song
was written 38 years ago.

Or I've been stuck with it
for 38 years, got to say

(Laughter)

(Applause)

but as with folk songs, you know,

they tend to expand and change with times.

Every time the peace process moved

to a positive moment,

I knew I was going to get a new verse

from my friend Yehonatan Geffen
who was still prolific in writing.

So there is endless--

I mean 38 years, you don't want me to sing
all the verses because we'd be here

(Laughter)

till sunset which is something
I'm used to (Laughter)

but not with one song.

So I'd like to conclude with one verse
that, I think, sums it all up.

And this one says

we should learn to live together

under the olive trees.

And that children will grow up
knowing no more war,

no terror, and no frontiers.

And that fresh, new grass will grow
over the graveyards for love and peace.

For after 100 years of war,

we haven't and will not lose hope.

(Singing in Hebrew) Some day
we'll learn how to live together

Under the olive trees

Children will live without fear

Without borders, without bomb shelters

On graves grass will grow

For peace

(Applause)

And love

A hundred years of sword

And the hope still hasn't died

Things will be better

(English) You can join!

(Hebrew) Things will be better

Though sometimes I break down

So tonight, oh, tonight

It's you I'm staying with

And things will be better,
things will be better

Sometimes I break down

So tonight, oh, tonight

It's you I'm staying with

I'm looking out of the window

Maybe

Maybe it's coming

It's coming, maybe a new day is coming

(Applause)

(Cheering)

Things will get better!

(Applause) (Cheering)