As my partner and I were taking what has become our routine journey (twice a month) from my parents’ home in Al-Ram (between Jerusalem and Ramallah) to the Sheikh Hussein Bridge heading for Amman-Jordan, he raised an interesting question. Noting that the State of Israel has devoted so much energy and resources to “protect” itself through occupation, the separation wall and check points, he wondered whether Israelis foresee a solution, or do they believe that the current situation is a final solution? Our bi-weekly trip to the bridge provides the context for this question.

My parents’ home is on the outskirts of Jerusalem, which under normal circumstances could have been a natural expansion of Jerusalem. It could have been a desirable suburb in a normal setting, as it has access to the northern exit, making a northern trip swift. This was a plus when my father decided to buy that plot of land, as he is originally from the Nazareth area, and we used to make the trip up north almost weekly to visit family.

With the continuing Palestinian Israeli conflict and the resulting decision by the Israeli government to build the wall, Al-Ram neighborhood was one of the areas that suffered. To make matters worse, the State of Israel has an Industrial zone (“Atarot”) opposite our neighborhood, which means that they needed access to it. As a result the “Wall” was erected in the middle of the street dividing it into two parallel streets and declaring one side of it as Israeli and part of Jerusalem while the other side as Area B. (Area B: The Oslo II Accord of Sep. 28th 1995 has created three “temporary” distinct administrative divisions of the Palestinian territories thus creating what have become areas A, B and C. According to Oslo Accord, Area B is Israeli controlled but administered by Palestinian Authority.)

This arrangement meant that we no longer have the convenient access of the northern route and now in order to leave our neighborhood and reach Jerusalem, we have two options. The first is Qalandya checkpoint, the main checkpoint that separates Ramallah from Jerusalem; this means killing plenty of time (delay on a good day is at least half an hour and reaches up to a few hours) each day as this checkpoint is always congested. It also means exposure to utter humiliation, as one is physically faced by the formula of ruled and ruler, occupied and occupier, the powerful and the weak, oppressor and oppressed. The Israeli Member of Knesset Adi Kol got a taste of this humiliation recently when passing through Qalandya checkpoint.

This confrontation on the checkpoint is utterly debilitating for Palestinians as it has become a norm and one must abide by the rules (stop at the white line, do as is asked…) or else the experience might get worse, or the time that it takes could be prolonged. It should be noted that this checkpoint is used mainly by Palestinians Jerusalemites holding an Israeli residency cards and drive Israeli cars, or Palestinians with permits to enter Israel.

The second route is via the settlement road. Such roads scattered throughout the West Bank connect West Bank settlements with Israel. Palestinians with the proper Identity cards are allowed to use those roads. At the connecting points between the settlements road and Israeli roads (those that are located in Israel proper) there are checkpoints, which ensure that Palestinians of the west Bank do not use Israeli roads.

The “Hizma” checkpoint which is on the northeast part of Jerusalem is a more forgiving one since most who take it are Jewish settlers. It is, thus, smoother. The trip is longer, but usually faster, becuase the checkpoint authorities are more lenient since most of the travelers are Israeli settlers. Unlike the Qalandya checkpoint, not all cars are stopped for inspection, only suspected Palestinians are usually stopped (women with Muslim headscarves or Men who look “Palestinian”).

Luckily, we are almost never stopped at this checkpoint, Yet, each time I pass, I dispair, knowing I was able to cross because I have hidden my identity (in the sense of the term used in its shallow and crude form; in other words as categorized by others or in its stereotypical form).

As we leave Jerusalem and head north through Highway 6, we are driving along Palestinian cities of the West Bank, such as Qalqilya and Tulakrm. The wall separates the Palestinian and Israeli areas and from the Israeli side the wall looks like a fence (nice looking walls with colorful facades with flower bushes and trees adorning its side).

So many Israelis drive through this road and probably only a minority think what the wall means to the lives of the Palestinians on the other side; they probably prefer to think that it is only a line that separates the Israeli side from the Palestinian while in fact the wall is wrapped around areas to enclose, isolate and separate one Palestinian area from the other.

For many Israelis the issue with the Palestinians is only one factor of state policy and of what the State of Israel is; true it is occupying another people, but in Israel proper the State stands on the pillars of democracy and equality. They may recognize a small minority who is non-Jewish and is affected with some inequality procedures, judging this, though as only a minor matter.

Being in the country from February till now is difficult for someone who is not an Israeli-Jew; first came the elections, which are constant reminders of how Palestinians holding Israeli citizenship are irrelevant to the State and its democratic mechanisms. Many Palestinians holding Israeli citizenship have surrendered to the fact that their voice in elections do not count because even for leftist parties a coalition with Arab parties is not an option. Especially now as we are witnessing a move to the right in Israeli politics, Palestinian parties have to accept being in the opposition, a role they are accustomed to take. This means permanent marginalization, and the marginalization of those who have elected them.

This year’s election was not that different from previous ones. It is true that now we have Yair Lapid’s new party emerging as second with 19 seats, which promoted itself as an advocate of “Social Justice.” Many perceive the party’s success as a response to the massive protests of summer 2011. It is true many of his campaign slogans had a social tint to them and catered for the majority of the citizens of the State (Middle Class) such as “Our children will be able to buy apartments” and “we will pay less for electricity and water.” Yet, without ambiguity Yair Lapid and his party advocate a Jewish State and of Jerusalem undivided as the capitals of that state.

It is interesting to see how the political map has changed in the past two decades; now the Jewishness of the State of Israel is perceived as a right. Most Israelis do not question what this means and how or whether it can work with the democratic nature of the state. It is also interesting to see how the Palestinian issue has become an external problem; the same as Israel’s relation with its other neighbors, but not as one that is intricately embedded in the state’s very nature.

The Palestinians living in Israel will never be fully-fledged citizens of the State of Israel and it is for this reason that I hesitate to put a hyphen between Palestinian and Israeli. The Palestinians living in Israel have been diluted into Arab-Israelis as if they are brought from the different parts of the Arab world and do not have their own culture and identity which was only some decades ago a part of the whole Palestinian culture and identity. Even though many have accepted this categorization in order to integrate within Israeli society, the matter of the fact is that they are not and cannot be a part of the Israeli society. The election, the recent holidays Yom Hazikaron “remembrance day,” Yom Ha’atzmaot “Independence day” are constant reminders that Palestinians in Israel are at best a nuisance or at worst a threat. Palestinians and Israeli Jews live parallel lives within the state; sometimes the paths of an Israeli Jew and a Palestinian Israeli intersect at work, in a restaurant, on the street, but they do not share a healthy social environment.

Palestinians living in Israel might have been perceived by many during the election period as apathetic, but I think what could be more appropriate is a state of alert. They have lost confidence in the democratic nature of the state. This feeling is strengthened with proposing new laws by government officials and sometimes passing such laws in the Knesset (such as the law of allegiance which requires all citizens to pledge allegiance to the state as a Jewish one). This results in further alienation of Palestinians living in Israel from the rest of the society and jeopardizes their right to exist in their home country.

As we learned from history, totalitarian regimes provide their citizens with limited horizon, with an impotence to see alternatives to the status quo, and they constantly affirm that the government knows best. As a result, citizens usually succumb to the State apparatus and focus on their own business. I am not saying that Israel is a totalitarian country, but its recent transformation should worry all of its citizens. The rights of Palestinians are infringed upon constantly, and recent developments should worry women, secularist and whoever cherishes the democratic nature of the state.

Carl Schmitt (11 July 1888 – 7 April 1985) is alive and well. Thank you for asking. As a matter of fact, he is walking the streets of Jerusalem nowadays, taking notes that confirm his understanding of politics as the realm in which the friend-foe distinction rules. If he were really alive today, he would notice that his distinction permeates everyday life as a series of racial confrontations. Last week, this culminated in an attempted lynching by a mob of Jewish Israeli teenagers of a few Palestinian youth.

On the Friday night of August the 17^th, four Palestinian young people from East Jerusalem strolled the city center, trying to enjoy its night life, relaxing after a day of Ramadan fasting. They were attacked by the mob shouting racial slogans, beating them, and leaving one of the Palestinians unconscious and seriously wounded. The attack took  place in the open public, viewed passively by hundreds of people. Only a few intervened, saving the lives of the Palestinians. The rest of the crowd feared for their own life, or worse, supported the mob.

The attack is the latest example of escalating racial violence conducted by both sides. In April this year, another mob, fans of the Jerusalem football club Beitar Jerusalem, violently confronted Palestinian workers in a Jerusalem shopping mall. And on November 2010, a group of Jewish students who mistakenly entered the streets of Al-Issawiya, a Jerusalem Palestinian neighborhood, were stoned almost to death, narrowly escaping with the help of the police.

The latest attack aroused a public uproar in Israel. Chief of the Israel Police, Yohanan Danino, acted decisively, denouncing the attack, establishing a special investigating team that soon arrested the suspects, who confessed participating, justifying themselves with a racist agenda. Many of them were seen as teenage drop-outs. Also politicians joined in the denunciations, first among them: Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, President Shimon Peres, and the Speaker of Parliament Rubi Rivlinwho visited the wounded Palestinian teenager in the hospital.

It seems that the alarming lessons of what happened in Tel Aviv on May 22th, which I analyzed in my last post, has affected the political system. The political leadership uttered the appropriate words, sincerely. Though, as criticized by Eyal Megged, the form of denunciation was not public enough. Netanyahu should have summoned a special address to the nation, condemning the racial violence, pointing out the moral danger we as a nation face. While I think that Meged’s criticism is sound as far as it goes, I don’t think it goes deep enough.

Indeed, speech can act and words have illocutionary power. And yet, words require certain conditions to be able to act, and even then, they are not enough by themselves. The words of denunciation should be accompanied by amending deeds, and not only police enforcement deeds. And amending deeds are nowhere to be seen, to the contrary.

Take the education system as an example. Following week of the mob attack, the Israel education ministry revealed some alarming data concerning the matriculation success rates in Israel in different municipalities. The matriculation results show a growing gap, the strong leaving the weak way behind. Thus, Arab, Haredi (ultra orthodox Jews), and peripheral municipalities are falling behind, with their youth immersed in structural ignorance and poor prospects in advancing their life plans.

This is specifically true in Jerusalem, with its large percentages of Arab and Haredi populations, and with a matriculation success rate of about 42%, less than half of the strongest municipality. This structural ignorance, the result of a gross failure by the State of Israel to allocate resources equally and supervise core curricula, maintains and fuels racism and creates the breeding ground for the escalation of Schmittian racial violence.

And it is not just the general education in the poor municipalities that has such detrimental effects on the Israeli public and Israeli youth (especially the drop-out youth). The civic and democratic education for engaged and pluralist citizenship has suffered a blow under Minister of Education Gideon Saar, who advances Jewish tradition studies at the expense of civic and democratic education. Moreover, in a very controversial decision, supposedly made autonomously by Minister Saar’s Director General Dalit Stauber, the civic supervisor, Adar Cohen, was dismissed.

While the official grounds for dismissing Mr. Cohen were some professional mistakes, unofficial reports disclose a rightist political crusade against him. The right, apparently, considers Mr. Cohen as not sufficiently Zionist, as advancing a too cosmopolitan, pluralist, and critical agenda. Almost replicating the accusations against Socrates, Mr. Cohen is seen as corrupting the minds of the young. (This decision has been suspended for the time being by Minister Saar following the appeal of Mr. Cohen to the ‎Labor Courts.) Under those conditions, it is no wonder that Israeli youth, suffering from structural ignorance and lack of civic and democratic education, is moving from an engaged pluralism into a Schmittian life of racial violence.

Time and again, we have turned to Jerusalem as a source of Western morality, “A Light Unto the Nations.” I grew up in a Jerusalem, thriving with such a potential. I work in such a Jerusalem university, and I believe in her ability to be such a moral light. But as long as Schmitt inhabits her streets, I see no chance of making this dream a reality.

In a post submitted before Osama Bin Laden was eliminated, Gary Alan Fine poses a question that is especially pressing after this latest development in the ongoing global wars. –Jeff

Coming out of a bar late one night, a patron finds his friend on his hands and knees searching desperately beneath a streetlamp. “I lost my keys under my car and I must find them,” moans his friend. “But why, if the keys are under a car, are you searching under this lamp?” “Well, the light is much better here.”

This is an old chestnut, none too clever, but one that has powerful political resonance, helping to explain flawed policy decisions. Why, if we worry about the menace of Al Qaeda, have we gone to war against two states – Iraq and Libya – that have distant, even hostile, relations with our terrorist foes. The light is better there.

A student of mine, Michaela DeSoucey, currently at Princeton, wrote her doctoral dissertation about the battles to ban foie gras. She asked the question why is it that animal rights activists chose to make the banning of foie gras a central issue, despite the small amount of foie gras consumed by Americans, as opposed to veal, much more common on American tables – or chicken. Neither baby cows nor poultry sleep under 300-thread count sheets. Her argument is that battling foie gras producers is a far easier task than the cattle or poultry industry. Yet, each battle provides a rich vein of publicity. Foie gras is what DeSoucey labels an easy target: it is, if one can pardon the culinary-mixed metaphor “low-hanging fruit.” Activists hope, but do not expect, that such targets can provide a wedge for other bigger enemies. Not yet.

But my concern is not with the pantry, but with the atlas. Here we are battling in Libya, while Syria falls into chaos. Americans and our NATO allies have determined that it is crucial that we overthrow the Qaddafi regime, even though that regime is opposed to Al Qaeda as are we. And, frankly, it is becoming a vexing pattern. We are only slowly retracing our steps from the mess that we made in Iraq, another Arab state, largely secular, that had little truck with our enemies.

It is surely true that few Americans have any love for either Saddam Hussein or Muammar Qaddafi; even The Donald could trump them in a free and fair election in our blue precincts. But this does not explain our involvement. Why do we give those Islamic leaders who are sympathetic to our enemies a pass, while we go all in to destroy secular Arab dictators? Why are we passive – even at times generous – toward governments in Syria and Pakistan?

The answer is that we feel the need to do something, and some somethings are easier than others. The brutality that we are seeing daily from Damascus and throughout the Syrian countryside reveals this clearly. It is true that Qaddafi bluffed that he would kill his opponents, but Assad has shown that actions talk louder than words. Following Teddy Roosevelt, the Syrian regime, supported by the Iranians, speaks softly and carries rapid-fire machine guns.

The danger is that by going after easy targets we undercut our policy goals, no matter how many “mission accomplished” banners we produce or how few allied military are killed. Can anyone claim that the invasion of Iraq benefited American interests in the Middle East? Can anyone claim that the NATO attacks on Libya, while ignoring Syria, will make the Middle East more stable? The outcome in Egypt and the plausible outcome in Libya seems most of all to provide a foothold for a kind of radical Islam that we despise. Perhaps the Muslim Brotherhood will not come to power in either Egypt or in Libya, but it is easy to understand the anxiety in Jerusalem.

Perhaps we are wise to be very cautious in selecting hard targets, but that doesn’t mean that we should be any less diligent in our choice of easy targets. Sometimes those easy targets have unintended consequences that make them very difficult after all.

It is not that American diplomats are blind when it comes to our self-interest; it is simply that they search for the key to global politics where the mission appears effortless, and not where that key might actually be found.

A Conversation Remembered

He recalled our conversation:

The mosque. If I remember correctly our conversation, my argument was that officially and legally, there is no doubt that there is absolutely nothing wrong with the initiative to build the mosque where planned and that President Obama as defender of the American constitution did the right thing when he made his speech and supported it. My concern was as a hopeless symbologist and on the symbolic level. Hence, having said that legally Muslims are within their constitutional rights, I was concerned whether it was absolutely necessary or wise to have a Muslim mosque so close to where radical Muslims massacred thousands of innocent Americans. You put my concern there to rest.

In our discussion, I essentially made the argument I have been making in posts here, most crucially my first one considering the raw facts , but also my more recent post The tragedy of Imam Feisal Abdul Rauf. My key point, which convinced Nachman, was that the Cordoba House was actually a respectful initiative, made by people of good will, who sought respectful dialogue between Muslims and their fellow Americans.  Yet, Nachman still was uncertain, having to do with his own expertise.

My other symbolic concern was with the name chosen for the mosque…”Cordoba House.” Now this raises another complex issue. Cordoba was a name of a Muslim battalion that won – fair and square – a battle against Christian armies. But, the emirate of Cordoba was also a showcase of Islam’s ability to promote cultural growth. This growth was under a religious-political regime of a caliphate (that is non-democratic), but that is how things worked at those times. Contemporary Christians were not democratic human rights lovers either at that time. Thus, the name Cordoba could have three historical meanings: one, a decisive Muslim military victory over Christian armies and another, a place and period of significant cultural growth and blooming. My concern was which one of these historical and symbolic meanings will be made dominant? And in whose mind?  A third possibility is an implicit implication that cultural growth follows Islamic military victories, under an Islamic rule.

These potential complex meanings of the name “Cordoba House” caused me to ponder. I suspect that it is possible that these symbols will not escape radicalized Muslims and I was just wondering whether it was not a good idea to have the mosque being built some decent distance from the 9/11 site, plus, perhaps re-consider a symbolic complex tell-tale name of the mosque. I am not sure, of course, and as I wrote – there is absolutely no legal problem with either building the mosque where planned or calling it “Cordoba House.” My only symbolic concern was whether it was wise doing it in this way and whether an initiative whose aim is to promote peace and inter-religious dialogue is not rolling on a track that can be interpreted in a contradictory fashion and that raises so much negative feelings.

Deliberate Considerations

Nachman’s concerns are serious. Clearly Feisal Abdul Rauf, in his statements about the community center, does not use the term as Nachman fears:  “Our name, Cordoba, was inspired by the city in Spain where Muslims, Christians and Jews co-existed in the Middle Ages during a period of great cultural enrichment created by Muslims. Our initiative is intended to cultivate understanding among all religions and cultures,” Rauf explained in his op-ed piece.

But there is always uncertainty about the meaning of symbols, and perhaps for this reason, while Rauf continues to use Cordoba as the name of the community center.  The developer behind the center prefers Park 51, so that the activities of the community will define its meaning, rather than a historical reference with possible contradictory historical meanings.  This is the sort of accommodation to community sensibilities that make sense to me.  And I would love to hear a discussion between Rauf and Ben Yehuda about the meaning of Cordoba, best would be at Park 51, when it opens.  I hope in the not too distant future.

“[I]t is high time that honest people outside the region .. conceive of [the Palestinian Israeli conflict] as a tragedy and not as some ‘Wild – West Show,’ containing good guys and bad guys.  Tragedies can be resolved in one of two ways: there is the Shakespearean resolution and there is the Chekhovian one.  At the end of the Shakespeare tragedy, the stage is strewn with dead bodies, and maybe there’s some justice hovering high above.  A Chekhov tragedy, on the other hand, ends with everybody disillusioned, embittered, heartbroken, disappointed, absolutely shattered, but still alive.  And I want a Chekhovian resolution, not a Shakespearean one, for the Israeli – Palestinian tragedy.”

I completely agree.  A persecuted people, after centuries of oppression and exclusion in Europe, culminating in genocide, find a place for themselves in what they perceive to be their ancient homeland.  A peaceful people are forced off their land, displaced, homeless, subjected to second class citizenship.  As Israelis and Palestinians fight against each other in their pursuit of justice, justice is denied.  The majority on both sides, at least at times, have even agreed on what they perceive as a just solution, a two state solution, with Jerusalem as the capital of two nations, but getting there from here has made the solution elusive, if not impossible.   Repeated failure has led to despair and aggression.  On both sides, majorities are convinced that the other side is not serious about a just resolution, not serious about peace.  Against these majorities, some try to keep alternatives alive.  Their activities remind me of small things I had observed in the U.S. and in East and Central Europe.

A most compelling example of people who work against the common sense about the other is The Parents Circle, a Palestinian Israeli organization of “bereaved families for peace.”  I first met them at their Israeli headquarters outside of Tel Aviv when a student of mine arranged a meeting.  I found it absolutely remarkable how the Israeli and the Palestinian members of the organization worked with each other.  I know that when people try to work across divides of conflict and of domination, finding an equal footing is difficult.  Condescension and arrogance on the part of the structurally advantaged group members is difficult to avoid, as is acquiescence to subordination or defensive aggression on the part of the members of the dominated group.  The warm feeling and the careful avoidance of such pitfalls were striking at The Parents Circle office.

What I saw that day is depicted in Encounter Point, a moving film about the group.3  It introduces ordinary people on both sides of the conflict attempting to re-write the political culture as it accounts for them and us.  These are people who have lost love ones in the conflict, victims of wars, military raids, suicide bombings, terror of the state apparatus and of resistance organizations.  The group members are dedicated to not having their loss used to justify a politics of retribution. It started in Tel Aviv, among a group of Israeli parents.  It now has both Palestinian and Israeli branches, with the Palestinian group slightly outnumbering the Israeli one. The groups operate independently and also work jointly.  Getting together, a crucial part of their endeavors, though, is not easy.  Travel restrictions make Palestinian movements within Israel proper difficult, if not impossible.  And Israeli citizens also are restricted in their movements in the occupied territories.  In the film, we see a group meeting in Jerusalem.  What we don’t see are the obstacles and checkpoints that had to be surmounted for the Palestinians to take part.  We are shown an attempt by the Israeli group to meet a group in the West Bank, and though they finally do get through, their difficulties are clearly depicted. It includes a postscript of the Palestinian host of the gathering being arrested as a terrorist, but released from prison thanks to his Parents Circle Israeli colleagues.  Road blocks, checkpoints, official regulations and fear are the group’s immediate obstacles.  But memory and attitudes toward the other are more profound ones.

In the report of the Jerusalem meeting, we see a discussion between two families who lost their daughters to the conflict, in an anti terrorist military operation in Bethlehem and in a suicide bombing in Tel Aviv.  It is a quick empathetic conversation, casual, seemingly not of profound significance.  But we see more outside the meeting.  We learn that the family from Bethlehem had the bad luck of driving their late model Toyota on a shopping trip on the same day a group of suspected terrorists were driving the same model.  And when their car came into view of the Israeli army, they were attacked and their daughter was killed.  We see the funeral, a full martyr’s ceremony, with aggressive nationalist, almost militaristic, rhetoric and with the father actively taking part.  And we see the father, later, now a member of Parents Circle, as deputy major of the city.  This is a moving sequence of events.  The family, of course, has not forgotten the loss of their daughter, but in their actions, they are undermining a dominant way of remembering, trying to create another way, apparently with some success.

Their Israeli counterparts do the same thing.  We see the father who lost his daughter to the suicide bombing go to school groups and argue not only for peace and reconciliation, but also against the linking of memory and retribution.  He may not convince, but he is, at least, opening up new possibilities.

Both fathers know that as they work in their own communities, they make it possible to work together, and in doing so, they are creating new political alternatives to the logic of the central authorities, by redefining their situation and acting together based on that redefinition.  I am struck by the fact that working against memory, or, at least, “re-remembering,” collectively remembering in a different way, is a first act of transforming the common sense about them and us and reinventing a political culture.

The two fathers and their fellow members of The Parents Circle meet the other in a different way.  Even as they are part of different political communities and may not agree on the big political questions, they share a commitment that their losses are not used as a key justification for flaming the conflict.  Their attempt to de-militarized the conflict suggests a possible overcoming of the tragedy.  The obstacles they face are very real, some they are able to overcome in their interaction.  But the interaction is difficult, requiring changes in fundamental attitudes, but also requiring a subversion of structures that separate people, physical restrictions and communal attitudes.  Nonetheless these people and many like them persist.  And in their persistence off the main political stage, I believe, the script of the “Chekhovian resolution” is being written.  More about the writing of the script in future posts.