LONDON, Aug. 15 — To the world's arenas of colliding faith — from Jerusalem to Jaffna, Belfast to Beirut — add Golders Green, albeit without the bloodshed.
It is a leafy and prosperous suburb of north London, near such distinctly noncombat zones as Hampstead Heath, Hendon Golf Course and the Brent Cross shopping mall. It is widely known as a traditionally Jewish part of town and lies at the center of a six-square-mile area that Orthodox Jews want to designate as Britain's first eruv, defined in religious law as an area where observant Jews are exempted from some Sabbath prohibitions against carrying keys or pushing strollers and wheelchairs.
"Although the eruv will greatly enhance the quality of life for the observant Jews who make use of it, it will have no adverse affect on others," said the United Synagogue, the leading Orthodox wing of British Judaism.
But that is not how the project has been seen by some of those "others," and the fray has generated charges of hypocrisy from one side and anti-Semitism on the other.
For almost 13 years, opponents — mainly non-Jews and secular Jews — have waged a passionate campaign to prevent the local authority from approving the creation of an eruv boundary using 84 posts up to 30 feet high and linked with about 1,000 yards of fishing line to complete an 11-mile perimeter defined largely by major highways, streets and railroad tracks.
Orthodox campaigners have been fighting just as tenaciously and now sense victory is at hand. With a final decision by the Barnet Borough authorities this week to paint the poles gray, the final planning requirements have been met, said Ray MacKay, a spokesman for the borough.
So did that mean the war of the eruv was over?
"Most certainly not," said Elizabeth Segall, a prominent anti-eruv campaigner who argued that the color gray could not be formally approved until the borough's sight-impaired and blind representatives had been consulted. Further, she said, there were still matters to be resolved including the precise siting of the poles and the strength of the fishing line between them. There are even whispers of an appeal to the European Court of Human Rights in Strasbourg, a city that has its own eruv.
In some ways, this long campaign has inspired some introspection at a time when immigration and other social changes confront many Britons with a greater and more assertive blend of cultures and faiths than ever before. In Golders Green, Orthodox Jews share sidewalk space with Britons from Asia and the Caribbean, and the discussion of the eruv seems to rattle the uneasy balance between public tolerance and hidden prejudice.
"This is an elemental issue of the multi-ethnic society of the 21st century," said Ned Temko, editor in chief of the pro-eruv Jewish Chronicle.
To some, there are elements of comedy in a battle over poles and fishing lines in an area already latticed with millions of yards of wire hung from some 50,000 utility poles. "If serious issues were not involved, the (apparently) final battle over the North-West London eruv would have all the makings of a Marx Brothers movie," The Jewish Chronicle said in an editorial.
For opponents, one of the serious issues is the potential divisiveness of what they see as special treatment. "If this goes through, the Muslims will demand special privileges, the Hindus will do the same and we'll end up like Northern Ireland," said Madeleine Simms, a Jewish opponent of the eruv.
Other opponents fear that the creation of an eruv will change demography by drawing in more Orthodox Jews to an area where supporters of the eruv say some 10,000 Orthodox Jews and 4,000 other Jews live among a total population of around 100,000. The numbers are disputed because anti-eruv campaigners say only a few people are affected by the Sabbath rules against items like strollers and wheelchairs, while advocates of the eruv say it would benefit "well over 10,000."
The intrusiveness of the poles is also in dispute. Pro-eruv campaigners argue that the boundary will be no different from any other in the world, and virtually invisible at that. Opponents like Lorna Noble, an advertising executive, argue that the London eruv will be much more obtrusive.
"It is most presumptive and very in your face, especially as my neighborhood is not primarily Jewish," she said. Some of the poles will be in front of windows and close to front doors, she said.
Even the nature of the eruv as a "courtyard" extending the concept of a private home to the broader area is disputed.
"Either you observe the rules of the Sabbath, or you do not," said Elizabeth Lawrence, an objector. "The eruv is a device to evade them." Not so, says the United Synagogue, which defines the eruv as "a positive precept" of Jewish law.
Ask Millie Samson what she thinks, though, and the perspective is much less abstruse.
Mrs. Samson is a mother of eight whose chronic asthma makes a wheelchair necessary for all but the shortest walks. As an Orthodox Jew, she says, she cannot leave home on the Sabbath because religious law forbids the use of a wheelchair. Her home in the Hendon area lies within the proposed eruv, however. "It will give me the freedom to go out on our Sabbath and our holidays, which I don't have," she said.
"For the sake of a few poles which aren't going to make any difference to anybody we are stuck in our homes people with children, old people, disabled people like me," she said. "What's the difference between an eruv and Christmas lights?"