At the End of the Promenade, along the shore of the Sea of Galilee in Tiberias there is a metal structure some 25 feet high. It is a cut out of the Galilean Lake with gaps on the top and on the bottom to indicate the entry and exit of the waters of the Jordan river. In more normal times the structure is an elaborate fountain with cascading jets of water. But now the fountain is dry. It has been switched off. Israel is in the midst of the driest winter since measurements began over 80 years ago, with only 50 per cent of average seasonal rainfall to date.
The English TV newscast ran a story describing this drought as Israel's next war. The Jerusalem Post reports that pumping of water from the Sea of Galilee, Israel's primary fresh water reservoir, was officially halted late January.
In my daily encounters with local people – visitors to the hotel or residents from the prosperous Kibbutim on the Golan Heights – the topic of conversation has remained the same, security. Security is an Israeli obsession. But in Galilee security is no longer a matter of armed forces, rockets and bombs – security is now a matter of water security.
The facts are these: The water surface of the Galilean lake is over 5.5 metres below the level desired at the end of the rainy season – by March 1st. It is 1.5 metres below the minimum desirable level. In terms of water flow, the daily norm over 80 years for water entering the Lake is 327 cubic meters. This year the figure is just 45 cubic meters. And so the water has dropped to just 38 centimetres above the level at which the lake will suffer irreparable damage.
What does this mean for ordinary folk, and why does this threaten their security?
As I write this, in early February, there is a ban on watering gardens, but there is no water rationing. The fields are planted and growing so the restriction on water use for agriculture will not be felt for a few more months. The tourist boats on the lake can't dock to pick up pilgrims at their usual berths – but the tourists don't arrive in numbers for a while yet. The present irritation has the potential to become a real threat to food production and economic activity.
And there is more. With little or no water flowing out of Galilee, the 100 kilometers of the Jordan River to the south, which has agriculture on much of both banks, is no more than a trickle – with nothing left to enter the Dead Sea.
While Canada struggles with the credit crisis and the greening of the transportation and power production, Isreal's 'greening' concerns are more literal. The once proud claim of making the desert bloom is under threat.
