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Ben Yehuda Plaza

Here There Is No Why

Ben Yehuda Plaza is a central Jerusalem pedestrian mall whose apparent everyday sociability repeatedly collides with the violence and unresolved histories surrounding the city. In the novel, it is not merely a backdrop for conversation: its cafés, crowds, languages, religious markers, and proximity to recent suicide bombings make it a public arena in which the investigation into Chaim Lerner’s death becomes entangled with the larger Israeli–Palestinian conflict.

Setting and Public Life

Ben Yehuda Plaza is presented as a busy pedestrian space in a city that has recently endured a wave of suicide bombings. Despite that danger, it remains densely populated. Teen tourists in matching shirts, backpacks, and baseball caps cross the cobblestones singing in Hebrew, Spanish, and English, while young Israeli couples fill the outdoor restaurants. The plaza gathers sharply different forms of Jewish and Israeli identity in one visible scene: some men wear knitted yarmulkes, others are bareheaded, while Haredim in black, priests in collars and vestments, Arabs in white robes, and modern Israelis in shorts and tank tops move through the same public space.

The timing intensifies this social layering. It is Friday afternoon, when some people treat the plaza as leisure space and others are shopping, cleaning, and preparing for Shabbat. The result is a compressed portrait of Jerusalem as a city where religious observance, tourism, ordinary commerce, and political anxiety occupy the same streets. The plaza’s openness does not erase division; it makes the coexistence of those divisions visible.

The Investigation’s Meeting Place

Judah Loeb and Charlie meet at an outdoor café in the plaza while Hannah Loeb and Michal are interviewing Kamal in a nearby prison. Charlie drinks Maccabi beer, while Judah, still fighting jet lag, drinks espresso. Their conversation turns immediately to the investigation: Judah identifies two men who wanted Chaim dead and emphasizes that both admit being at the scene on the night of the death.

The café therefore becomes a temporary operations room. The public setting contrasts with the secrecy of the case, while the surrounding crowds provide cover for a conversation about murder, alibis, manipulation, and the possibility that the apparent suicide conceals a killing. Charlie’s casual composure and Judah’s trembling hands register the psychological difference between them: Charlie controls the investigation’s revelations, whereas Judah is still discovering how thoroughly he has been managed.

Charlie later receives a text from Michal and hands his phone to Judah. The message says that Hannah and Michal have solved the case and know why Chaim killed himself. Their arrival at the plaza is marked by an argument: Hannah repeatedly punches her right fist into her left hand, and Michal wags a finger close to Hannah’s ear. The gestures make the plaza a stage for a new investigative partnership, one in which the relationship between the two women has quickly acquired the intensity of a mother-and-daughter quarrel.

Testimony, Mediation, and Violence

At the café, Hannah produces a small video cassette player and proposes watching the interview with Kamal. The device is placed on the edge of the salt and pepper shakers while Hannah’s questions and Kamal’s answers are mediated through Michal’s translation. The ordinary table setting sits beside testimony about planned suicide bombing, displacement, revenge, and religiously framed violence.

Kamal describes Sbarro’s in Hod Hasharon as his target and identifies his family history as the motive he has adopted. He says that his grandparents lived in an Arab village called Sylia and were expelled during the Nakba; his grandfather lost the chance to attend Cairo University’s medical school, became a janitor at a Christian school in Ramallah, and died young. Kamal presents his planned attack as revenge for that history and says he intended to kill himself and take as many Jews with him as Allah allowed. He also describes deceiving his parents, claiming he was visiting his fiancée in Jenin while wearing the bulky coat associated with the attack.

The plaza’s public sociability thus frames a layered act of narration. Kamal speaks dramatically, modulating his voice and moving his cuffed hands as though reciting sacred material; Michal translates in a steady, matter-of-fact tone; Hannah controls the questions; and Judah and Charlie watch from the café. The scene places direct testimony, translation, recording, journalism, and public consumption in a single chain. The plaza is where private evidence becomes discussable, but the mediation also shows that no account reaches the investigators without passing through another person’s language and authority.

Heat, Memory, and Recurrence

Later, in July 2005, Hannah and Judah eat ice cream at a shop on the Ben Yehuda mall. The heat outside is described as brutal and punishing, while the shop’s air-conditioning offers relief. Judah remembers the ice cream as markedly better than the version he recalled from Israel and calls the gelato the best he has ever tasted, even after visits to Rome. The concrete sensations of heat, sweetness, and cooling give the plaza a different register from the café investigation, but the conversation again returns to Chaim’s death, widowhood, the unanswered question of whether Chaim loved Zehava, and the blackmail involving the girls.

This return shows how the location absorbs changing investigative stages. The first café meeting holds competing suspects and the filmed confession of Kamal; the later ice-cream scene holds the emotional consequences of questioning Zehava’s marriage and the concealed blackmail. In both cases, the public mall allows intimate inquiry to proceed amid ordinary consumption and movement. Memory does not remove the investigators from the city’s daily life; it makes the daily setting carry the pressure of the unresolved past.

Political and Narrative Significance

Ben Yehuda Plaza concentrates the novel’s concern with boundaries and circulation. It is a pedestrian space crowded with people who differ by religion, ethnicity, dress, language, and political history, yet it is also a site recently threatened by terrorism. Its apparent accessibility is therefore conditional: people move freely through it, but the possibility of sudden violence remains part of the space’s meaning.

The plaza also connects personal investigation to national politics. The case concerns Chaim’s fall from the balcony, but conversations held there lead toward Kamal’s failed suicide bombing attempt, the history of Palestinian displacement, and the larger struggle over responsibility and memory. The location’s crowds do not provide a neutral background. They embody the society in which every private explanation of death is shadowed by collective conflict.

As a recurring meeting place, Ben Yehuda Plaza becomes a threshold between public spectacle and hidden truth. Investigators discuss murder beside tourists singing and families preparing for Shabbat; a recorded interrogation plays beside café condiments; grief and blackmail are examined over ice cream. The plaza’s decisive narrative function lies in this juxtaposition: it makes the investigation visible as part of Jerusalem’s ordinary life while showing that ordinary life itself is structured by danger, historical displacement, and competing claims to be heard.