VIA CRUCIS

by CHRONICA

It was 9 a.m. but the heat and stench were already unbearable in the cell dug into the rock occupied by Disham and three other prisoners. One had been arrested with him a couple of days earlier during a reprisal for the launch of a “Katyusha” missile that had destroyed an uninhabited farmhouse three, four kilometers beyond the border: they knew each other by sight, but since they had been there they had not even exchanged a glance, perhaps so as not to aggravate a situation already compromised after the summary trial with a foregone conclusion. The other two were rather well-known characters from the chronicles of the time and instilled a certain awe: their battle names were Bar Abbah and Jeshua Hanozri, the latter, lying in a corner over the excrement, emitted a thin moan since the soldiers had pushed him to the ground with a last kick on the face. He was in a really bad shape, a kind of thorn wounded his forehead and the blood from the scourged body created strange stains on his tattered tunic.

When the heavy wooden door opened, a cascade of light poured into the cave and the four instinctively covered their eyes so as not to be blinded. “Exite!” ordered in a threatening voice what must have been a chief of the guards; not obtaining any result he descended holding his breath and with the tip of his spear stung Hanozri forcing him to rise. “Exite! Tertia est, viae crucis hora!” Everyone shuddered and without looking at the soldier who threatened them with his weapon, they went out dragging the chains, one after the other: only Bar Abbah was violently repelled and fell back cursing.

They were not prepared for that scene: they were in a square courtyard where a hundred policemen were lined up in riot gear who as they left began to beat their truncheons rhythmically against the plexigas shields. The roar was impressive and Disham felt faint, also because of the smoke from the tear gas used to disperse the crowd that demanded to be paid: they had wasted a lot of time to go in front of the praetorian palace to shout the name of the condemned man to be saved and now they were dispersed like stray dogs, without even money for a coffee…

In line, six soldiers approached the condemned, holding three polished trunks at the ends: with some effort they lifted them trying to position the center of gravity just below the neck of the criminals. Disham immediately fell to the ground and was lifted up not without tasting the whip; Jeshua staggered but for the moment he was not betrayed by his wobbly knees; the third, with his gaze lost in space, did not even seem to notice the weight that had been placed on his shoulders. “Satis est!” ordered the centurion and the noise ceased, even if the echoes of the scuffles could still be heard far away. His nine subordinates gave some further instructions, ordered the soldiers to line up in two, thirty in front to open the way through the crowd engaged in shopping the day before the Great Shabbat, thirty behind to prevent escape, thirty around the three to protect them from any possible lynching attempt. Another moment of silence and then “Come on, marsh!”

Although it was clear that Hanozri had been savagely beaten, the one who seemed most fatigued was Disham, the third instead had promptly moved forward so as not to stumble. They passed under a low stone arch, crossed the hotel lobby and were projected into the incredible alleys of ancient Jerushalaim: scenes, voices, colors, sensations, scents, emotions in which every pilgrim or tourist throughout history would have wanted to dive! But at that time there was no time to think about the packages to be “negotiated” with the agencies, not even – to tell the truth – how to avoid the usual bloodbaths that occurred at the time of the Crusades. There was only poor Disham to be accompanied, and with him the other two condemned, to the sinister place of the Skull, the famous Golgho thà…

What bothered me most was the absolute indifference of the people: yes, it could also be explained by the fact that the spectacle was not rare, at least a couple of days a week that procession was repeated, a handful in front and behind, in the middle the poor condemned concerned above all not to fall. Indifference of all? No, not everyone’s; here is a guy coming out of a store, placing the goods he has just bought on the counter and approaching Disham: “Do you want a hand? If you are not offended, I will bring you the cross for a few hundred meters…” The time to wake up from amazement, a thought to sneak away sensationally as in the similar scene of the film Brian of Nazareth and the trunk was already on the shoulders of the man from Cyrene; only it was not his, but Hanozri’s, who was quicker to accede to the merchant’s request. No, not everyone’s; here is a group of women, clear and beautiful eyes gushing out of the veil; one looks very young and rushes … “God, if you wiped me off a little sweat!” Nothing to do, even that girl seems not to notice his presence and escaping the grip of the guards she quickly reaches Joshua, spreads a handkerchief over his face and then remains as if petrified to contemplate the marks of blood left imprinted on the linen.

“At least the mother will deign me a look!” Barely restrained by the soldiers, three women tried to reach the condemned: the first soon interrupted her efforts, her son who proceeded quickly in front of the others, heedless of the weight that weighed on her shoulders, had given her a look full of hatred before resuming his journey with great dignity; the second had woven a short but very sweet   wordless conversation with Hanozri; nothing to do, Disham’s mother had begun to rail against him, calling him the ruin of the family for not being able to successfully complete the mission that had been entrusted to him.

“Good thing there are no nails for me!” thought Disham as he heard the screams of his companion in misfortune while the sharp irons tore to shreds the skin, tissues and muscles of his hands and feet. “The only advantage is that he will die sooner and will have to endure this torture for less time.” He let himself be meekly tied – there was nothing more to do – and was hoisted on the cross: he certainly did not have the time and the desire to admire from above the extraordinary panorama of the great city whose walls particularly stood out, in the background the blue sky. For a moment he remembered the village of Rafah, where he had grown up, razed to the ground by the bombs that rained everywhere, regardless of the terrified eyes of the children. He looked for the best position but every effort caused excruciating pain; despite this he wanted to look at the other two, after all they were united by the same terrible death. Next to him was Jeshua who seemed to be asleep, perhaps – lucky him! – he had fainted from the pain of the nails and from the slow but steady loss of blood from recent wounds; Further on, the third criminal continued to flaunt confidence and made fun of the Romans who, moreover, did not seem to take it too much. Up to that moment he had admired him for the strength and courage he had shown, but now Disham thought that before dying perhaps it would be better to recite a few prayers from the heart rather than breathe his last swearing against everything and everyone; when the third condemned man even took it out on his neighbor Hanozri accusing him of being a coward, he found the last energy to invite him to be silent and to respect “those who were involved in the same punishment”. Especially since that poor guy seemed really incapable of hurting anyone, while instead the two of them …

In addition to the suffering there was the humiliation of nakedness: the exposure of the body and the mockery of the soldiers but also of many merciless passers-by caused more suffering than the limbs stretched by the laces. At least in front of Jeshua there were a few women and a beardless young man who were crying so loudly that they drove away the curious and the impertinent. Perhaps it was precisely that loving presence that awakened the condemned man from his torpor: he had begun to say something, but it was very difficult to understand the meaning of his words. Disham was surprised by his eyes – he never thought that there was still strength in him to move his head by raising a swarm of flies that drank blood without any devotion; There was no doubt, they were as good eyes as was the voice that emitted a kind of indistinct moan. He could only grasp “today you will be with me in paradise!”; he did not have time to think what it meant, at that moment the earth seemed to shudder at the foot of the cross, it became dark everywhere and a sinister noise of rubble was heard coming from the area of the Temple.