The first things you notice when you land is Tel Aviv, Israel, are the guns.
Dozens of armed soldiers pace the Ben Gurion airport, small Uzis or other automatic weapons slung over their shoulders. They aren't menacing, threatening, they are just there. Oddly, even with all the guns — and traveling with a White House team surveying sites President Bush will visit this week on his trip there — one doesn't feel particularly safe.

While the hourlong drive to Jerusalem passes through flat, peaceful country, dotted with small houses, the landscape flush with sheep, the guns return in the Old City. Random people seem to have guns — a woman in black pants and shirt, no official uniform or badge, holds an Uzi near the Western Wall. Two young men, beards barely visible on their chins, stand by the entrance of a small park, old bolt-style rifles strapped to their backs.
The children of Jerusalem know no other world: They have always walked the streets with their classmates protected by an armed man in front, an armed man in back (as in the photo at right). For good reason: In March, a Palestinian terrorist fire at central Jerusalem's Mercaz Harav Yeshiva, killing eight students and wounding 11 others.
It turned out that he carried a blue Israeli identity card and came from east Jerusalem. He fired more than 500 bullets in just a few minutes. An Israeli Arab group called the Martyrs of Imad Mughniyeh and Gaza was responsible claimed responsibility for the massacre. In Gaza City, residents took to the streets and fired rifles in the air in celebration after news of the attack.
No one in Israel, in Gaza, on the West Bank, has lived in a safe world since 1948, when Israel was created. Arabs have killed thousands of Jews; Jews have killed thousands of Arabs. And walking the streets of the Old City, there is a quiet, sometimes irrational, fear that the spot you're standing might be dangerous, that you might want to move away from this crowd, this group of Israelis, just in case a suicide bomber with explosives packed into a vest attacks. [A few hours after this post, at least 14 people were wounded when a rocket fired from Gaza hit a shopping center in Ashkelon. Islamic Jihad claimed responsibility for the rocket attack in a statement on its Web site.]
You can feel the animosity, the hatred, just under the surface. A tour guide trying to lead you through the city grows angry when you ask him about the Palestinians: "We will never have peace with them, never. They do not want peace." He walks off, mumbling.
At the Dome of the Rocks, Islam's second most holy place, just behind the most sacred place for Jews, the Wailing Wall, you can feel it again, an uneasy feeling, a hatred. Even though the site has just opened to tourists, Muslims rush you through, shouting, "It is closing now! Closing now! Go!" Frightened tourists quickly make their ways to the exits, where more men rush them out: "Here is the exit. Closing now."
The scene is no different along the roads south and east of Jerusalem as you head into the West Bank. There, the checkpoints begin; close to the city (below), they are still men in black shirts, jeans, bullet-proof vests, holding old rifles; farther out, on the edges of the West Bank, the armed men wear Israeli army uniforms and have bigger, newer, more powerful weapons.

Palestinians have complained that the checkpoints make their lives difficult, cutting off access to the places they once traveled. But the new effort — larger than any before — to keep Palestinians out of Israel is working. Suicide bombings in Israel have dropped dramatically since the new checkpoints were erected, from a high of 59 in 2002 to only one in 2007, and one so far this year.
The military's new effort came after a deadly spring in 2002, when a Palestinian from the West Bank walked into the small Park Hotel in a small coastal resort town and blew himself up. Israeli forces swept into the Palestinian territory in an operation dubbed Defensive Shield, taking control away Palestinian Authority security forces. Shortly thereafter, Israel started building the West Bank security barrier in 2002, with checkpoints like the one below. Mostly odd stretches of fences and walls, Israeli officials say the barrier is working, and a main reason suicide bombings have plummeted.

The already high-level security is higher today, with Bush in Jerusalem to celebrate the 60th anniversary of Israel's creation. Upon arrival, Bush spoke of the long strategic alliance between the two nations, but said not a word about the Palestinians or peace. Israeli President Shimon Peres said that while his nation has often been "outnumbered and outgunned," Israel "could still win seven wars during this period."
But the celebration rings hollow: Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Olmert this month rejected talks in Egypt this week with Bush and Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas, and has already nixed talks in Moscow planned for later this spring, which Abbas said he probably wouldn't attend, either.
So, for now, the children of Israel will walk the streets, flanked by armed gunmen, and Palestinians will be turned away at checkpoints. Not much to celebrate after 60 years.
— Joseph Curl, senior White House correspondent, The Washington Times