Nonviolence – Informed Comment https://www.juancole.com Thoughts on the Middle East, History and Religion Fri, 05 Apr 2024 04:59:40 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=5.8.9 Against genocide: A conversation with Ofer Cassif https://www.juancole.com/2024/04/against-genocide-conversation.html Sun, 07 Apr 2024 04:06:41 +0000 https://www.juancole.com/?p=217893

Ofer Cassif, a voice for peace and nonviolence within the Israeli parliament, speaks with Rabbi Lynn Gottlieb, Ela Gandhi, Michael Nagler and Mubarak Awad.


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Purim at the Time of Genocide https://www.juancole.com/2024/03/festival-conflict-resolution.html Fri, 22 Mar 2024 04:15:10 +0000 https://www.juancole.com/?p=217656 Montréal (Special to Informed Comment; Feature) – The Jewish holiday of Purim, related in the Book of Esther, celebrates deliverance from a genocide. How to celebrate it when death and starvation kill thousands in Gaza, and the holiday’s rhetoric, namely the memory of the archenemy Amalek, is being used by Israeli politicians responsible for it?

Jewish tradition as shaped by Rabbinic Judaism abhors literal reading of the Torah all the while considering it the holiest object in existence. This, in fact, is what distinguishes the Jews from the Karaims, who remain attached to literalism. One may offer different reasons for the rabbis’ insistence on interpreting biblical verses. They consider the text timeless, so in order to make it meaningful for future generations they must explain and decode it. This dynamic view of the eternal is reflected in the very term used for Judaic law, the halakha, which is derived from the root “move.” It may well be that rabbis felt uneasy with the literal reading and so offered their own understanding of a biblical verse. This approach rejects anachronism and fundamentalism and tries to make the Torah a living source of inspiration.

Violence is not rare in biblical texts. The Pentateuch and several of the books of the prophets, such as Joshua and Judges, teem with violent images. From the genocidal command to wipe out seven nations inhabiting the Promised Land to the obligation to blot out the memory of Amalek, there are quite a few episodes that appear to promote massacre. Biblical Israel was conquered under conditions that could hardly be described as peaceful.

But far from glorifying war, Jewish tradition decisively deemphasizes military prowess as the principal reason for the victories mentioned in the Bible. After the Romans’ destruction of the Second Temple of Jerusalem, Jewish life underwent a transformation. Viewed in the context of Judaism, the annihilation of Jerusalem defined the normative attitude toward force, resistance, and the Land of Israel for nearly two millennia.

Rather than promote revenge, Jewish tradition encourages self-examination. After a calamity or a misfortune occurs, one is advised to examine and correct one’s own misdeeds (lefashpesh bemaasaw). This approach suggests that the Temple was razed by the Romans because of gratuitous hatred among the Jews, and that the first exile to Babylonia occurred because of illicit sex, murder, and idolatry.

The Roman siege of Jerusalem in the first century, like the Israeli siege of Gaza, sharply divided the Jews. The scholars of the Law tended to favor negotiated compromise, while the zealots organized a forceful response. Classical exegetes — such as the Italian Ovadia Seforno (1470–1550) — condemned the advocates of armed struggle in particularly severe terms: “If the Zealots had heeded Rabbi Yohanan Ben Zakkai [a prominent scholar opposed to violence], the Temple of Jerusalem would not be destroyed.” Considering the central position held by the Temple in Judaism, the accusation is indeed serious and serves as a warning against any collective temptation to use force. The Mishna defines a strong man as someone who succeeds in controlling his own inclinations, passions, and urges (Pirke Avot, 4:1).

But what does Jewish tradition do with explicit violence mentioned in the Torah? The oral tradition interprets it allegorically: the sword and the bow used by Jacob the Patriarch against his enemies (Genesis 48:22) become prayer and supplication (Bereshit Rabbah 97:6); the victory of Benaiah over Moab (2 Samuel 23:20) now stands for Torah study (Babylonian Talmud, Berakhot, 18b).
To some, Purim provides a model for conflict resolution. The story is as simple as it is prophetic. Haman, the Persian vizier, has planned a total massacre: “to destroy, to kill, and to annihilate, all Jews, both young and old, little children and women, in one day” (Esther 3:13). The response of the Jews was to proclaim a fast of repentance, but at the same time to find a way to influence the king and thereby circumvent the vizier and his decree. Queen Esther intervened, revealed to the king her Jewish origins, and convinced him to stop the planned genocide. “But it did not occur to any of the Jews to use physical means against Haman,” noted Rabbi Elhanan Wasserman in his commentary on the history of Purim written at the end of the 1930s (Jewish Guardian 1977, 8–9). Yet, the massacre of 75 000 people at the hand of the Jews that is mentioned in the final chapter, albeit explicitly authorized by the king, causes anguish and calls for interpretation.


Edward Armitage, “The Festival of Esther,” 1865, Royal Academy of Arts 03/1188

One such initiative was undertaken by the Shalom Center in Philadelphia. A range of people wrote their own versions of the final chapter. Many were inspired by classical Judaic sources aware that violence can only beget more violence and cycles of revenge. One commentary suggests that Jews offered gifts of food to their erstwhile enemies, which dovetails with the Purim custom of mishloah manot, sending each other edible items. Moreover, such behavior would be considered heroic. Avot de Rabbi Nathan, an 8th century source, defines a hero as someone who can turn an enemy into a friend (23:1).

Yet, quite a few followers of National Judaism (or, in Hebrew, dati-leumi), including members of the current Israeli government, revere a different kind of a hero. They erected a shrine to commemorate Dr Baruch Goldstein (1956–1994), a US-born physician, who massacred dozens of Muslims praying in Hebron on the day of Purim. He had apparently been influenced by the biblical readings associated with Purim, calling for the extermination of Amalek. He saw Amalek in Muslims and Palestinians, which inspired his murderous mission.

The association of the Palestinians with Amalek seems to have become so common in Israel that it encourages unbridled cruelty from IDF soldiers sent to Gaza. They chant with joy about how they are destroying Amalek. The direct link between the biblical texts and the challenges facing Israel encourages violence as has been graphically shown at the International Court of Justice in The Hague in January 2024.

Jews have long associated their enemies with Amalek. Among others, Zionists have been often portrayed as Amalekites by those Jews who oppose the Zionist colonization of Palestine. But they would never resort to violence in their struggle against the modern Amalek. Rather, some rabbis called on the faithful to resist the internal Amalek and fight off the emotion, in rabbinical parlance, the evil inclination (yetser har’a), which tempts some Jews to identify with Zionism and the state that embodies this ideology. The numerical value (gematria) of the letters constituting Amalek is equal to that of the letters in the word safeq, doubt. These rabbis argue that rejection of Zionism should brook no doubt.

Zionist settlement in Palestine and the unilateral declaration of independence by the state of Israel in 1948 challenged the tradition of non-literalism, certainly among the secularized settlers but only slightly less among those affiliated with National Judaism. From the beginning, Zionism has encouraged love of the land, a love that has taken political and ideological forms. The nature hikes with the Torah in the hand have been intended to impart an intimate knowledge of the terrain mentioned in biblical verses. This organic intimacy breeds literal rapport with the Torah recounting events that are believed to have happened mostly in that land.

But the events narrated in the Book of Esther are located elsewhere. Against the continuing massacres and starvation of Palestinians in Gaza we can celebrate Purim by transforming the violence it contains into a manifestation of empathy. We can write our own finales for the Book of Esther. After all, Purim is a holiday of radical transformation. Haman thought he would be the one to be honored by the king, but it was his worst enemy, Mordechai, whom Haman was forced to praise and parade. Jews were facing a genocide, but then the tables turned, transforming a day of anguish into festivity. The Torah is eternal precisely because it is not immutable and allows for time-sensitive interpretations, including those of the Book of Esther.

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Nonviolence in the Holy Land: Fear, Love and Palestine with Sami Awad https://www.juancole.com/2024/03/nonviolence-holy-palestine.html Sat, 16 Mar 2024 04:06:49 +0000 https://www.juancole.com/?p=217583  
 
Former Holy Land Trust Executive Director Sami Awad. (Facebook/Sami Awad)

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( Waging Nonviolence) – As a Palestinian, Sami and his family have suffered directly under the long Israeli occupation and more acutely now, from the current war. Sami speaks candidly about the ways in which politicians and media harness fear and exploit unhealed traumas so that violence seems to be the only response to conflict. This, he insists, is a distortion – and one that must be actively resisted. Instead of accepting the simplistic binary categories of victim and victimizer, Palestinians can envision and then work collectively through nonviolent means to realize a just future, one which they themselves have chosen. Such a path calls for broad education in nonviolence, it calls for deliberate organization, it calls for genuine leadership and crucially, it calls for love to be our primary motivation. The situation in Palestine is horrific, there is no quick fix, but when we reject fear as our driver and turn to love instead, possibilities for real change emerge

I think part of loving is to deeply understand who the other is and where they’re coming from and what motivates them to behave the way they behave and do the things they do. And in that love and care and compassion, creates space for transformation and healing. And I think that is definitely much more powerful than fear, and is key. But it’s a journey.

Stephanie: Greetings and welcome dear listeners to another episode of Nonviolence Radio. I’m your host, Stephanie Van Hook, and I’m here with my cohost and news anchor of the Nonviolence report, Michael Nagler. And we’re from the Metta Center for Nonviolence in Petaluma, California.

On this episode we speak with a truly remarkable guest, Sami Awad. He’s the former executive director of the Holy Land Trust in Bethlehem. With the world’s eyes on this region at this time in the conflict, especially, escalated since October 7, our discussion with Sami explores a new level of activism and understanding of nonviolence in the region, one of the most tumultuous regions in the world.

What I liked the most about this interview with Sami was the depth of his understanding of the dynamics of nonviolence, not only politically, but also what happens in the human heart and mind, and this kind of tension between fear and love.

Sami is a thoughtful, inspiring, and noble human being. And we hope that you gain as much understanding and inspiration and support from this interview as we did. Let’s turn to Sami Awad.

Sami: My name is Sami Awad. I am living in Bethlehem. I am a Palestinian. Both of my parents are Palestinians. My father is a refugee from Jerusalem and my mother is from Gaza, from the Gaza Strip.

Until last week, my mother’s family was in Gaza. We were able to take them out to Cairo a day before the Israeli army started bombing Rafah. And they were in Rafah, actually. So very, very lucky. My uncle, aunt, cousin’s, in-laws – there are still family members that are still in Gaza. We’re still very worried about them. But at least the immediate family, we were able to take out last week.

I grew up in a family that has always been committed to peace work and very deeply influenced at a young age by an uncle, Mubarak Awad. Who was heading the Palestinian Center for the Study of Nonviolence before he was arrested and deported by the Israeli army for his work in nonviolence.

And so, my life journey, my mission, has been to engage in nonviolent resistance and activism towards the Israeli occupation of the Palestinian people and to bring a just peace to this land. Which has not been an easy task for all of us, I think, for all who have been involved in this.

Part of that was in 1998, I started an organization called Holy Land Trust, which I ran for 25 years, until last year, when I decided to step away from the organization. To continue working with them, but stepping into more freelancing and doing more work on a global scale with nonviolent activism.

Stephanie: What does that look like for you today?

Sami: Well, today, I mean, this was all the idea before this war on Gaza took place before October 7. So, it’s been completely taken over by just the reality that we live in now, and then trying to advocate for at least a ceasefire to happen. Trying to advocate for nonviolence, trying to advocate also for people not to be afraid to expose the injustices that are happening, the genocide that is taking place, the growing levels of racism that are happening also in this land, that need to be addressed. So, I haven’t been able to engage at the international level as planned.

But for me, the three tiers of the work that I work in and want to continue working, as I mentioned, the first and maybe the cornerstone is nonviolent activism. The second tier, which I have been doing more and more work in the field also, maybe even at the same level of need, is to address collective trauma, inherited trauma, and how this is an important component actually, of activism that we need to – we need to be motivated not by our fear nor by our trauma as we move forward.

Many, many peace activists are activists for peace because they’re afraid of the other side, not because they honor the other side, respect the other side, or even acknowledge the atrocities that have been done to the other side. “We are afraid of you, therefore, we want to make peace with you,” and that, for me, doesn’t work. And so inherited narratives of trauma, which are key. Key, when it comes to the Palestinian Israeli situation, are some aspects of work that we have been doing.

The third level of work is leadership development. So, for me, we can’t also talk about nonviolence without having clear, visionary, trusted leaders that are motivating their community, that carry the vision, that are leading their people in the struggles of liberation and not just sitting in, you know, five-star hotels and mansions and talking about liberation.

And so, leadership development, nonviolence, and healing are the work that I’ve been engaged in and want to continue to engage in, as I said, locally and globally as well.

Michael: So, in that brief talk, Sami, three things have come up for me of different character. One is, are you working with Combatants for Peace?

Sami: Yes. Yeah, you know, when we look at what’s happening now, as – I don’t even know what the word is to describe it. As sorrowful, as painful as confusing as it is, as dark as it is, there are some beacons of light that are happening. And I think one major one is that there is a level of awakening within the Palestinian activist community.

I’ve been having many of these discussions, many of these discussions happen in my home, including key leaders on the Palestinian side of Combatants for Peace, that we come, and we meet together. And then really ask the questions of, who we are, where are we, what is our mission? What is our goal? What have we done that has worked? What have we done that has not worked as well in the past?

I think October 7, let me say on a positive side, was maybe a wake-up call for many of us to say that, yes, we have been doing work as activists for 25 years and more now since the Oslo peace process began, at least if not before.

And then, did we fall into a routine? Did we fall into a certain pattern of what we did and how we did things that we need to address? And so, I think we’re having really very powerful discussions that talk about, again, who are we? What are we doing? What is the language we want to speak now? How much have we been in a space where we were appeasing the other side, even in our nonviolent activism? To try to bring them into, you know, accepting us or engaging with us?

How much did we downplay our language in a way that makes them want to join? Now we’re saying, “No, we want to label things as they are. We want to speak truth to power.” We want to make it very clear we’re not looking – yes, we enjoy the friendships, but this is not the main part, the part of what we’re doing.

It’ll be amazing friendships when this occupation ends. These are the friendships we want to have. Not before, and then having these friendships become so personal that they interfere with our ability to engage in work because we are worried about upsetting them or not making them – or making them triggered by us.

So, there’s been an awakening, I think, within the activist community since October 7. And these discussions have been very, very strong, and profound. I think.

Michael: Wow, thank you, Sami. Okay. I’ll just move on to my second question, since we had such a great time with the first one. The second one was more like a comment, but I’d like to get your response to it.

You know, in this field, as you know, we talk about negative peace and positive peace. And you just gave a really devastating definition of negative peace when you said, “Some people go into nonviolence because they’re afraid. They’re afraid of the opponent.” And Gandhi would say, acting out of fear is a form of violence.

Sami: Exactly.

Michael: So that, in a way, negative peace is not nonviolence.

Sami: Yes, I fully agree with that statement. And this is why it became very important for us to address the fear. Because we know that fear is part of the collective psyche, for example, of the Jewish community in particular. They grow up in a narrative that says to them, as Jews, we have trusted so many in the past and look what they did to us. As Jews, everybody hates us. Everybody wants to destroy us. And antisemitism is alive and well. There is no denial of that. But there is also, in my opinion, an abuse of that by certain leaders to gain political clout.

One quote that also is as strong for me is, it says, “Fear is the greatest motivator of human behavior.” And then leaders know that if you use fear, people will listen to you. And then we see this politically everywhere in the US, in Europe, growing fascism. To be honest, Michael, even the left in the US is now using fear as a motivation to rally people around them. And so, this has also been negative, negative peace as well.

So, we need to definitely address fear and its history, and the way to deal with it is healing. So, we are very much engaged in creating spaces for Palestinians and Israelis collectively, where they come with very specific programs that we have created to become aware. At least become aware that many of the decisions that they’re making are motivated by fear, and that we can now create a different space where we could put that fear behind us and become motivated by something else.

Become motivated by justice. Become motivated by compassion, by understanding the other, by acknowledging the atrocities that are being committed against the other. Take responsibility. Because fear also just puts you more in the victim’s mindset. And then we need people to understand that they have responsibility in terms of what’s happening here.

Michael: You made a statement, which is of really great significance in the nonviolence field. Because there is always this specter raised because of the tremendous power of Gandhi and King and a few others, there is, of course, a school that wants to not have charismatic leaders, which I don’t agree with that school very much.

And it sounds like you agreed with me, which is quite thrilling. That you said that a leader has to at least emerge, someone who can rally, who can refocus people, has to emerge.

Sami: Yes. Yeah. I think for us as Palestinians, this has been a question for me that I’ve been in for a long time. This is why I actually started doing the leadership training programs in the Palestinian community, because in a way, I could say we have too many leaders, but we don’t have leadership.

We don’t have clear leadership that is really able to unite the community. Our sad reality is we have leaders that are tribal leaders representing political parties. They’re trying to gain politically for their party based on, you know, putting others down or even struggling or having conflict with others, as we see between – for many, many years and until now between groups like Hamas and Fatah, each one trying to gain power in a situation where we have nothing, absolutely nothing.

Sometimes I compare this like people fighting over who’s going to be standing on top of the trash dump instead of asking, how can we all come together and clean this mess that we have been put in? So, for me, leadership is key, is important. We have leadership that are, again, ready to not just speak a vision and inspire people but are ready to be on the ground.

This is what Gandhi did. This is what King did. They were on the front lines of demonstrations. I’ve been in so many demonstrations here that we organized, Michael, where Palestinian leaders come to join us. And as soon as it reaches that hot zone where, you know, where it’s ready to have that tension between us and the army, they’re the first ones to leave, many of them, not all of them, but many of them will just turn around and go back.

They got their photo op, they got on the camera. You know, they got the interview on TV, and that was it. This is not the leadership that we want. And then I will even add to this and say that part of our work is to also build up the capacity of young leaders, which are very important for us.

This is key motivation. And, as important, women leaders in the Palestinian community, which were very, very strong, and very, very powerful until the Oslo peace process began, and the Palestinian Authority was created. And this absolute male masculine energy took over and women were sidelined for all the work that they did. And now we see, like all – most of the leaders in the Palestinian community are men.

Even somebody like Hanan Ashrawi, who was a woman leader for many years, you know well. She’s been sidelined. You know, given sort of like a spokesperson position at best. And so, for us, bringing young leaders and women leaders in full force in the Palestinian community is key as well.

Stephanie: Sami, as you’re speaking, first of all, I just want to pause and see if, you know, you’ve covered a lot of ground – has anything struck you as you’ve been speaking, that you want to go into a little bit further before we guide into another place? How are you feeling?

Sami: No, I’m feeling good. We’ll see where we go. I mean, I think it’s important at some point to talk about what – I don’t even know the answer to it, but what is nonviolence in the midst of all what’s happening now?

Stephanie: I do have a lot of questions about the various aspects and angles of nonviolence. One is that fear is the greatest motivator for politicians in particular, I think is what you mean.

Sami: It’s what the politicians use to motivate. So, fear is the greatest motivator of human behavior. And politicians know how to play that game very well. That’s – yeah.

Stephanie: Do you think love could be the greatest motivator?

Sami: Yeah, yeah. No, for me, I mean, I think a big part of the work we’re all doing is to conquer fear with love, for sure. And that’s what we want. But I think to really make that happen, I think we also need to understand how deeply fear has also been embedded in love itself. And how many people, you know – fear has, there is a certain understanding of love that I think is really missing.

I think most people who engage in love, if it’s at the personal or the collective level, still have this component of fear in them. Fear of losing a loved one, fear of being alone, fear of separation, fear of judgment. A lot of fear comes in love relationships. And so, this is something very important for me that we work on, which is how to also free love from fear itself.

And for me, there is a love that I think is very powerful and can be motivational. And that is when we talk about love that is unconditional, for example. Like, how can we love somebody despite the triggers, despite how, you know, their behavior that makes us feel insecure or something? And then how can we be part of that healing journey for them?

To love somebody, in my opinion, means to unconditionally love them. And then for me, you know, my history connected to this has been – I always say how I began to discover Jesus when I let go of Christianity. And then I started studying Jesus independent of Christianity. And then one key statement, a commandment, actually, not just a statement that he told his followers in the midst of a very brutal occupation that they were living in under the Roman occupation, which is, love your enemy.

And then I went on, it was my spiritual journey to understand what does it mean to love somebody? What does it mean when he is telling Jews who lived under a very violent, brutal occupation to love their enemy? He didn’t say, “Make peace with your enemy.” He didn’t say, “Resolve a conflict with your enemy.” He didn’t say, “Reach a peace treaty with your enemy.” He said, “Love your enemy.”

And then I think part of loving is to deeply understand who the other is and where they’re coming from and what motivates them to behave the way they behave and do the things they do. And in that love and care and compassion, creates space for transformation and healing. And I think that is definitely much more powerful than fear, and is key. But it’s a journey.

I want to say that it’s been one of my biggest disappointments since October 7 was in seeing how many Israeli peace activists that I’ve worked with, connected with, been in spaces with, engaged in nonviolent resistance with, immediately, immediately on October 7 itself fell into the trap of absolute fear from the other and even calling for violence towards the other.

And this is why I say it’s the greatest motivator. Because if you’re not really embedded and stable and have deep roots in love, then that tree can fall very quickly and then fear takes over. And so, yes, love is ultimately the greater motivator. But my fear, my problem at this time is that, sadly, in the world we live in, fear and separation are the motivations.

Stephanie: I was just reading in Thérèse of Lisieux, a Catholic mystic, who said on this topic of loving your enemy, that it’s not enough to love your enemy, you have to prove it.

Sami: Yes, I love that. I jokingly say sometimes, when I was in that question of what Jesus meant by loving the enemy, you know, I would say like, should I go to checkpoints and open my arms out to Israeli soldiers and say, “I love you, Come and – now give me a hug?”

And so, love, there is a proof to it, component as well. It’s not just words. It’s actions. It’s deeds. It’s energy that you bring into the space. It’s an opening, an invitation. So, there is action for sure when it comes to love as well.

Stephanie: And I think in that same context, it was something like the greatest – that before Jesus was crucified, that he gave another commandment which was even greater than loving your enemy, which was love one another the way that I’ve loved you.

Sami: Yeah. And yeah, for sure. And his story, his journey of his life is one where it was expressing love and living love and teaching love and being unconditional in love. And not separating between different tribes and different people and different groups when it comes to love. And even being challenged by himself, like when he showed love to the enemy, and he showed love to the – I think it was, there was a woman who was from a different identity group that even challenged him to heal her because he didn’t want to heal her initially.

And then she challenged him, and he did heal her. And for him to be in the humbleness of it, and accepting that he also has his learning to do when it comes to this from the enemy, from others. So, yeah, for me, everything that Jesus did was an embodiment of love and transformation and healing.

And then this is why, for me, it’s very important then to talk about him and to talk about his teachings in that way.

Stephanie: And on that topic again, of fear, and as you said, you know, love is sort of hiding behind fear in a way. That in the work of the trauma work and of, you know, getting to this place of nonviolence from this place of unconditional, fierce love, detached love, even, I wonder what you think that fear is doing there.

Why is fear so intertwined with love?

Sami: Yeah, yeah. It’s a big question. I mean, I think part of it is, we grow up in communities and in identities that promote separation and promote division. Starting with family, you know, now it’s about the nucleus family. It’s not about the bigger community that we are part of. It’s my father and my mother and my siblings.

And then there is the other. It’s my school, and then there is the other. Everything is polarized, everything is dualistic, everything is divided. And in that, because of these narratives we grow up in, there is this illusion of security that we have to create around my identity, my narrative, my people, my tribe.

And the illusion is that this identity creates a sense of security for me to be part, to belong to something. And then the moment that is challenged by something else or by a new narrative that comes into play, then immediately fear of losing comes up. And I think fear of losing is the biggest fear that we have, not just losing life but losing, losing connection, losing community, losing identity.

And to be honest, this is what I see a lot within the Israeli community. That for so many years now, decades, it’s been embedded in them that the state of Israel, this state is the only safe place for you. This state is the only place that you could come to that will protect you when the rest of the world begins to attack you. This is why you have to –

So, the love for the state of Israel is coming completely from an ideology of promoting fear of the other. That if you don’t love Israel and you don’t give everything to Israel, your commitment, your vows, your money, your vote, then you are with the other, you are with the enemy. You are allowing. So fear – this is why I keep saying fear is a great motivator.

And then many, many Israelis and talking to them, especially when it comes to trauma healing work, there is this fear of who are we, even now, without the state? And yes, the state has problems. And yes, the state has issues. And yes, the state is not doing good things. But, you know, there’s always this, but we go back to it. And we need to fix it. We need to make it better.

But it’s still this whole nation that is completely embedded and motivated by fear. And again, I’m not denying the past that created this, but to say that there is an abuse of this at this time that is taking place, that’s making people completely lost in it.

So, yes, separation and division and dualism is key in promoting fear and dismantling love in spaces. When we talk about love, it’s about community. It’s about oneness. When you love somebody, you are creating something new with them. It’s not just the I and the they. It’s the we that comes out, that emerges. It’s the new creation that comes out of love.

And for me, this is like – this is my dream for this place and this land. What is the new that we can create? When we look into the peace treaties that have been offered, the Oslo peace process. A peace process. Even leaders won Nobel Peace Prizes on it. Like the greatest honor of peace. If we look deeply on it from that lens, it wasn’t a peace process. At best, we could say it was a security process to put like a positive note on it. It was negotiating security, and security means there is fear. And so, when there is fear, we need to negotiate the best security mechanism for us.

Israelis were negotiating from a place of, how do we maintain a Jewish nation, a Jewish state? Because, again, of how the world has treated us, how the world has seen us, the fear and the trauma that we have experienced. And then we have to deal with those Palestinians that are in this land. We wish they were not there, but because they’re there, we have to find a certain arrangement for them.

And the Oslo peace process failed because that arrangement was only about how can we control the Palestinians in order to maintain security. How can we create a Palestinian Authority to help us suppress the Palestinians in a way to maintain security for Israel and the Jews?

And that failed. The Palestinians’ leadership on the other side was also motivated by fear. The PLO at that time had lost its legitimacy in the global community when Yasser Arafat stood with Saddam Hussein in the Gulf War. You know, the faucet of financial support from the Gulf state was cut, diplomatic negotiations with the US and Europe that were secret were ended.

He was motivated by fear of losing everything. So, he jumped into the Oslo peace process again from a place of fear. Both sides were motivated by fear. And for me, yeah, when we talk, imagine if they were motivated by love in that way, like by a deep understanding, compassion, care, a desire to reconcile the grievances that were created by both sides, a desire to even apologize and mend what we have done to you. We would definitely not be in this situation. But sadly, that’s not the motivation that was there.

Stephanie: You’re here at Nonviolence Radio. I’m Stephanie Van Hook. I’m with Michael Nagler. And we are speaking with Sami Awad from Israel-Palestine about the work of nonviolence in the region.

A while ago, we had interviewed Ali Abu Awwad from Taghyeer, and he said something that ties into something that you said earlier about the victim mentality. He said, “When we stop seeing ourselves as victim or victimizer, that’s really the basis for being able to move forward together.”

Can you speak to the – again, that kind of tension between love and fear within this identity of a victim or victimizer when, clearly, we can be both victim and victimizer at the same time? So, how do we release ourselves from that space? How do you do that in your work?

Sami: Yeah, so again, for me, it comes down to motivation. And what is that motivation for action that it creates? At first, we cannot deny the reality that we live in. On that scale, there is a victim and there is a victimizer, there is an oppressor and oppressed, there is an occupier and an occupied.

The question is, being the victim, what do I do? What do I engage in? How do I behave? Do I allow myself to completely surrender to victimization, which means my action is about blaming, complaining, seeking entitlement, not taking responsibility, not taking action, labeling everything as impossible because of what they’re doing to us? And so, there is a consciousness of victimization that I can choose to be in.

And there’s another consciousness of victimization, which is, yes, I am a victim, but I have power. Yes, I am a victim, but I can unite my people around the call. Yes, I am a victim, but I can have a vision for the future. And I can engage in action to bring a better day for me and my people, and for the victimizer themselves as well.

I think it’s not about denying the reality, but it’s about saying that I make a choice. Everything in life is a choice. And then again, we see this on a personal and then the collective. This is why, for me, always, the personal and the collective are intertwined. We learn from each other. A person who is abused in a relationship and is a victim has a choice.

And sometimes we think we don’t have a choice because fear takes over. But we always have a choice. Then what is that choice that we make in the midst of the oppression, of being victimized? It’s not about denying it. I think that’s very important.

And then I fully agree with you. Yes, I can be a victim in the context of an occupation, but I can be a victimizer in the context of how I connect to my neighbor, or how I connect to my family or my children.

And so, we all have that, we all have that component in us to be both at the same time. I don’t want to belittle the reality that we live in and to say no, that at that mega political level, that is the reality, and we need to address it from that point about how do we empower the victim, and how do we – and this is a key part of nonviolence, is how do we pull power away from the victimizer?

I think many people just completely ignore the component of nonviolence, which is the need of nonviolence to pull power away. Michael, Mubarak, Gene Sharp, talk about this. That we need to – yeah, so, when it comes to the power dynamics, it’s where the shift needs to happen.

Stephanie: Yeah, Michael and I were listening to a practitioner of restorative justice from Northern Ireland the other day, and he was working with victims of sexual assault, I think at one point.

And he said that one of the stories was that this woman had the opportunity to be in the room with the person who had raped her, but he wasn’t going to apologize for what he did. And so, the guy was like, “Well, we could call off the session because you’re not going to get what you want.”

She said, “No, we’re going to go through with it because he’s never going to have that power over me again. It’s not that I want his apology. I don’t want him to ever have that power over me again.”

Michael: She showed that she wasn’t destroyed by what he did. That was her triumph in that situation.

Sami: Yeah. And not make him decide what the discourse of the conversation would be. But he decides he wants to apologize or not, that’s not, that’s not important to her. Yeah, that’s beautiful. I love that.

Michael: You know, at the end of Man’s Search for Meaning, which is Viktor Frankl, the psychiatrist who was in Auschwitz for two and a half years. At the very end, when the camp is liberated, he’s walking out of the camp with a fellow prisoner, and they walk past a wheat field. And the other prisoner runs into the wheat field and starts trampling the wheat. And so, Frankl says, “What are you doing?” And the guy says, “They did this to me, so I’m going to do this to them.”

And there’s just like such a stark allegory of this man let himself be destroyed by his victimization. And Frankl, for some, you know, God’s grace descended on him or something and he didn’t let himself be destroyed. So, I’m guessing that when you do a lot of trauma work with both camps, actually, that this is something that you emphasized, not to let yourself be, not to adopt what your enemy tells you you are.

Sami: Of course. Of course. And then we see this fully in history, where unhealed trauma creates a cycle of, a new cycle of victim and victimizer, of oppressor and oppressed. And we all know this is a big part of this reality that we live in. The fact that there was no real deep healing work for the Jewish community after the Second World War when it comes to trauma healing, it was never addressed at that level.

It was just, in a way, coming out from guilt and shame that the international community had to make up for the Jewish community. But until today, there hasn’t been a real reconciliation process. And we see this, and then we see that that lack of healing has created this system that we have lived in for many, many years that has completely now exposed itself.

And then it’s violence. And then it’s sad. It’s really sad. Like, it’s not easy for me to create a comparison between how they were treated and how they’re treating us. This is not the point. But to say that the lack of healing of the Jewish community has created a community where they are committing atrocities against another people.

And to say that in the future that the lack of healing for Palestinians from the traumas that they are facing will result in them creating violence and atrocities against others. If it’s another group of people, if it’s different identity groups within the Palestinian community, if it’s gender-based, religious-based, to say that the Palestinians are excluded from that cycle, it’s not going to happen if we don’t engage in trauma healing as soon as we are able to move in that space for the Palestinians.

So, peace, any peace that comes in the future, in my opinion, needs to be deeply embedded in truth and reconciliation and trauma work for both communities.

Michael: We recently interviewed Ofer Cassif, and he had a very interesting image for this. He talked about Israelis and Palestinians living side by side, but not looking each other in the eye. That they are really not seeing one another on a human level.

In other words, they’re trying to coexist rather than live together. And that kind of thing has never lasted.

Sami: Yeah, I fully agree. And not just that, I will add to it. We’re living next to each other, coexisting – and I think that’s what he was also meaning, with completely different narratives of who we are and who the other is.

We’re not even listening to each other’s stories. We’re not even listening to each other’s pain and narratives. So, the Israelis are living their own complete narrative. And actually, it’s interesting because part of the conversations we’re having is how media is being presented on both sides. And the absolute contrast with what the Israeli media’s presenting, what Palestinian media’s presenting.

And it’s not about truth or not like it’s that’s, you know, the media is media. But it’s just the stories, the narratives that are being presented by one, and how the same experiences presented by the other is a completely different story. And then people, this is what they’re listening to. That’s what they’re hearing, and that’s then what they’re sharing as their experience.

We need to find that space where – and it’s not even about creating one story. I mean, it’s about just beginning to really listen to the other and then seeing the other eye to eye, and honoring and respecting the other, trusting the other for their experience and what can be built with them.

Stephanie: We have a good friend, Amery, who is an artist. In his art, he tries just to bring people together to build relationship with each other, whether it’s like rolling a ball back and forth in a park. That is his art in a way. And so, I’d love to move into this question of what nonviolence looks like in this situation right now. And yeah, let’s just open that up.

Sami: Yeah. So, I’ll begin by saying that nonviolence in the midst of war and violence is not something very easy to engage in. It’s sad to say this, but when the emotions are so high, when the arms are so powerful and strong, and the use of weapons is so easily done, all of us, all of us, we’re all in a place where we are in the question of what can we do?

You know, we’re seeing demonstrations happening around the world. Millions and millions of people. We’re seeing politicians that are probably going to lose elections because of their stance, and they’re still advocating for violence and for this war to continue and for more weapons.

So, on one level, I would say, we – I can’t be always optimistic and say, yeah there is a nonviolent solution at this time. At this time, I think it’s very difficult. And I think it’s very important for us to honor that within us as activists. To actually acknowledge despair as it exists within the community and not to play around it. And in that place, to create conversations of how do we move, and where do we move, and what are we creating for any future work we want to do?

We definitely know that at the end of this war, there isn’t any political agenda out there that is going to promote a just peace to this situation. We’re going to fall back into a reality of fear, and victimization, and victimhood, and oppressor, and oppressed, and power dynamics the same way. Yeah, maybe a different political map of it, but that same energy is still going to be present.

And that, I think, is where we will have an opportunity to engage. And so, in a way, when the dust settles from this atrocity that we’re facing, it’s going to be our time to take charge, to move forward in work. And these are the conversations we’re having with activists.

It’s not to say that we cannot engage. We do the best that we can, which is creating advocacy. Many, many of us are on webinars and Zoom calls around the world talking about nonviolence, talking about the Palestinians, talking about the rights of the Palestinians, creating more international support, the momentum for a just peace in this land. Because that is an opportunity that we have to work with.

But none of us are able to go now and stop a tank from shelling a house in Gaza. Even though there are many conversations – I’ve been in conversations with women leaders from around the world that are talking, let’s bring 100,000, 200,000 women to come and stand. And even with their willingness to understand that some of them might even lose their life in this.

And then there’s conversations happening around that, for sure. But to understand even that is going to be difficult to do. And we’re still engaging in the conversations at this level of activism and action. But there is a time that will come that I think many people will look back and say, “Violence has not worked. What we did in 2023 and ‘24, with so much death and destruction, did not achieve anything for both people. And we need a different route.”

The power dynamics will still stay there. And I think that will be the door opening for us to say there is a way, which is nonviolence, which is a more powerful force, which is also a force that will have the negative and violent response from the oppressor towards it. And this is something we need to engage in.

You know, I think, as I said, we’re having all these conversations now, and I think part of the conversations is to actually present nonviolence as a powerful force that many people lost touch with. Nonviolence became, again, like the negative peace, the negative nonviolence that Michael talked about, which is let’s get together, let’s do a sit-in somewhere.

To be very honest, in many nonviolent actions that are joint Palestinian/Israelis, there was pre-negotiations with the army that we will be there for an hour – or you’ll be there for an hour. After an hour, we’ll start shooting. And the demonstrators would leave before the hour ended because they did not want to engage in the clash. And now what we’re saying is, “No, if we want to engage in nonviolence in the future, we have to be ready for that clash. We have to be ready for the response, the violent response from the other side.” To reclaim nonviolence for its core and its power, I think is the opportunity that we have ahead of us.

Stephanie: Yeah, I’ve heard comments that this conversation is extremely difficult to have because people have said Palestinians have tried nonviolence with the specific emphasis on the Great March of Return and that you had so many people joining that and that the soldiers just shot people down. So, how do you respond to that?

Sami: Yeah, I mean, I always say the March of Return was an example. I also say that the March of Return was and could have been much stronger if it was much more organized and much more embedded in a unified Palestinian cause of resistance. That it’s the West Bank and Gaza coming together, it’s leadership that was missing.

And then sadly, like in the First Intifada, where that was a very strong example of nonviolence that actually achieved great results for us, it’s, one, honestly, I would say corrupted leadership wanted to ride the wave and took it over, that it began to collapse. And many people who were organizing the March of Return were not committed – were not part – or supporters of Hamas.

And then, sadly, I would say at one point, again, leaders saw an opportunity for them to gain power and they rode that wave. And of course, you know, once – nonviolence and this is something that we always learn in nonviolent resistance and activism, even Gandhi talked about the army of nonviolence. You have to be trained in it.

This is not just about, you know, let’s go out and do it. Then we’re missing this: we’re missing the schools, the education, the training of nonviolence, as if you are trained to join an army. The only thing different is the weapons that you use are different. And so, there’s a sense of discipline, there’s a sense of camaraderie, there’s a sense of steadfastness, of willing to sacrifice, understanding this, that is missing, I think, I would say at this level, in most of the global, nonviolent movement, not just here.

So, yeah, it was an example. And then we could definitely build on it more. And to say, yes, the other side will engage in violence. And by the other side actually engaging in violence, it actually is a proof of the success of nonviolence, as we know, it’s not that it failed. It actually showed success. When the other side uses violence as a response.

Stephanie: So there were two intifadas, right?

Michael: Yeah.

Sami: Yes.

Stephanie: Where this – where the Second Intifada was more grounded in nonviolent action. Or the first one was?

Sami: The first one.

Stephanie: The first one. Okay, so Third Intifada? Is that a conversation that’s taking place, or what would be your vision of a Third Intifada?

Sami: I think what we need to – it’s probably coming, the Third Intifada. It’ll probably eventually come. But I think there are certain things that need to be in place for that intifada to happen.

It cannot just be another sporadic, you know, movement or resistance that – because even between the intifadas, we had many of these things that have happened where it could have launched the second or could have launched the Third Intifada, but then it quickly died out. And so, I go back to the issue of leadership and vision.

You know, the sort of the three circles that I use in our training work is you need nonviolent resistance as a strategy. You need leadership and a vision. You cannot have two only of the other. You have leadership and you have nonviolence. Without a vision, you’re going nowhere. You have leadership and a vision without a community that is committed and engaged in violence, you go nowhere. You have nonviolence and a vision, without leadership, you’re going nowhere.

And so, for me, if we want to engage in achieving that, that level of the Third Intifada or intifada that has a great potential of succeeding, we need to start doing the groundwork for it and preparing for it.

And I think this is part of the conversations that we are having within the Palestinian community and leadership within the Palestinian community. What is the leadership that we need? What is the vision? What are we struggling for? What is it that we want and that we need to come to an agreement on this? And again, sadly, within the Palestinian community, we don’t have a clear vision.

You know, the two-state solution was imposed on us. Most people do not support the two-state solution, at least in the way that it was presented. And most people have seen on the ground the reality that with the expansion and building of new settlements of the apartheid wall and the confiscation of land and water, that that solution wasn’t a working solution to start with.

Then again, I even mentioned that they show fear. How it was motivated by fear. And so, we need to come together, and I would say, as Palestinians first and ask what is the vision we want? And then invite Israeli partners and activists to join us in these discussions. But again, I think one of the big challenges is that since Oslo, everything had to be done jointly.

And I would say this is probably in my memory, and you could correct me, the only liberation movement where members of the oppressor had a voice as equal to the oppressed in what is the strategy and what is the vision and what is the tactic. Like, you know, the civil rights movement wasn’t bringing white people and black people to talk about what is the vision, what to create.

No, it’s the black community saying this is what we want to achieve. In South Africa, this is – the LGBTQ community, this is what we want. And we invite solidarity. We invite people to join us in this. The Black Lives Matter wasn’t, you know, some, you know, like a 20-year-old white person from Seattle coming in and saying, “Yeah, I like your movement, but I think you need to do this and that.”

This is what we get as Palestinians from our Israeli friends. And we need to say, “No, this is what we want to achieve, and you need to trust us and not be afraid of us. And join us at some point and help us achieve this, this vision and the goal and create a new future for all of us. But you don’t have a veto or a say in deciding it.”

So yeah. So, it starts by the Palestinians coming for a vision and start training and the strategies of nonviolence that we will use, start building momentum around it, creating a movement around it, bring in more people. Nonviolence is, it means mass popular movement. It’s not just the 20 of us going into a demonstration or tying ourselves to trees as nonviolence. These are actions that are happening.

A movement of nonviolence means that the greatest majority of the Palestinian community are committed at one level or another to it.

Stephanie: Well, that’s our show today. You’ve been here at Nonviolence Radio where we explore nonviolence all over the world. And today our guest was Sami Awad from Israel-Palestine speaking about nonviolence in the region. We want to give a shoutout to our mother station, KWMR, to all of the people who help make this show possible including Matt and Robin Watrous, Sophia Pechaty, Francesca Po helping out on social media. To Bryan Farrell and the friends over at Waging Nonviolence who help syndicate the show, as well as friends on the Pacifica Network, thank you for sharing Nonviolence Radio with a much wider audience.

If you want to learn more about nonviolence, visit us at www.MettaCenter.org. And you can also found the show at www.NonviolenceRadio.org.

Until the next time, please continue to study nonviolence, practice nonviolence and take care of one another. The world needs you. Until the next time.



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Israeli Peace Activists agree War must end with some form of Democracy for All https://www.juancole.com/2024/03/israeli-activists-democracy.html Tue, 05 Mar 2024 05:02:03 +0000 https://www.juancole.com/?p=217396 By Atalia Omer, University of Notre Dame | –

(The Conversation) – The months since Hamas’ attacks on Oct. 7, 2023, have been excruciating ones for Israeli peace activists. As the country rallies behind the war effort, critics have been arrested and condemned by opponents who say the attacks proved how misguided the peace movement is.

But in activists’ eyes, the horrific violence of Oct. 7 and Israel’s sweeping military response only prove its urgency. Vivian Silver, who spent a decade leading Women Wage Peace – a solidarity group of Israelis and Palestinians – was one of several peace activists murdered that day. “If we want a future here, we have to make the conflict a thing of the past,” her son Yonatan Zeigen wrote in an op-ed after her death.

For some activists, in other words, Oct. 7 only underscored the urgency of their cause. Yet the peace movement has always been diverse and often fragmented. In reality, there are multiple movements, each with its own definition of peace. As a scholar of religion, ethics and politics, I have traced how divergent accounts of Israel’s founding connect to different visions of justice.

The ‘peace camp’

The Israeli demographics most associated with the “peace camp” are predominately Ashkenazi Jews, meaning they are descended from communities in Central and Eastern Europe. They also tend to be secular, meaning they do not closely observe traditional Jewish religious law.

Even within this larger camp, however, there are divergent perceptions of justice, shaped by how people understand the root causes of the conflict. Did it truly start in 1917, when a British lord promised a home for Jews? In 1948, with Israel’s War of Independence – which Palestinians experienced as the Nakba, their “catastrophe”? Or is the most important date 1967, when Israel occupied the Golan Heights, east Jerusalem, the West Bank and the Gaza Strip?

For the most part, this “peace camp” believes “Israel proper” consists of land within the “Green Line,” set by the armistice agreements at the end of the 1948 war. The Green Line does not include the territories Israel has occupied since the end of the 1967 war, which most of the peace camp considers a morally wrong occupation.

More broadly, their vision is grounded in preserving Israel as a democracy with a Jewish majority. This necessitates the creation of a sovereign Palestinian nation-state in the occupied territories.

Owen Jones Video: “This Israeli Peace Activist Must Be Heard – w/ Dana Mills”

A prominent example of a secular group accepting the Green Line as a peace premise is the once-robust Peace Now movement, created in 1978 by Israeli veterans. They argue, using human rights and international law, that a permanent occupation will threaten the character of Israel as a Jewish democracy.

… and its dissenters

Ever since the early days of Zionism, however, other Jews have challenged the movement’s basic objective of creating a Jewish-majority state, given the reality that other groups of people, in addition to Jews, already lived in historic Palestine. For example, the group Brit Shalom, established in 1926 by European Jewish intellectuals, envisioned a binational state that would include equality for non-Jewish Palestinian communities.

In Brit Shalom’s view, a commitment to democratic principles contradicted ambitions for creating a majoritarian Jewish state, which they predicted would depend on driving out Palestinians and preventing their return.

Other contemporary secular groups that are mostly made up of Jewish Israelis also oppose the Green Line as a basis for peace building. Zochrot, for example, emphasizes the Nakba of 1948 as a root cause of the conflict. Therefore, they advocate for Palestinian refugees’ right of return, which is central to Palestinians’ own conceptions of justice.

A black and white photograph of a long line of people, including women and children, walking uphill as they hold bags of possessions.
The displacement of Palestinians during the 1948 war, often referred to as the Nakba, is central in shaping some activists’ ideas of justice.
Fred Csasznik/’Birth of the Palestinian Refugee Problem’ via Wikimedia Commons

Other critics of the mainstream peace movement have criticized it for ignoring the social justice struggles of non-Ashkenazi Jewish Israelis, such as Arab Jews or “Mizrahim” and Ethiopian Jews, or connecting those issues with Palestinians’ experience.

Palestinian voices

The continuous expansion of Israeli settlements in the West Bank has eroded the Green Line as the basis for peace. This de facto annexation, as many analysts call it, makes it increasingly unlikely that “peace” could mean most Israelis living within the line and most Palestinians outside it.

Yet with the erosion of the Green Line, various organizations are reemphasizing a binational vision of a single state, or two states joined in a confederation. Compared with the “mainstream” peace camp, some of these groups have more Palestinian representation, coming mostly from Palestinian citizens of Israel.

A Land for All: Two States One Homeland, known as ALFA, was formed in 2012 and is co-led by Palestinian and Jewish Israelis. In events after Oct. 7, members grappled with their grief by resolving to imagine a political future together.

ALFA’s foundational assumption is that “both people belong in the whole land.” While it believes that, realistically, Jewish settlers will remain in the territories occupied in 1967, it envisions them becoming Israeli residents of a future State of Palestine – one half of a larger confederation with the state of Israel.

Similarly, the organization Standing Together sent two representatives – one Jewish Israeli, one Palestinian Israeli – to the United States together to hold events with the message that “both Jewish people and Palestinians are going to stay on this land. No one is going anywhere.”

Notably, the Palestinian members of groups seeking Palestinian-Israeli dialogues tend to be Israeli citizens from within the Green Line, with a few exceptions, such as Combatants for Peace – a group of Palestinians and Jews committed to nonviolence but made up of former fighters.

However, after decades of “peace process,” many Palestinians interpret coexistence initiatives as a form of normalizing the occupation.

The Faithful Left

The tension between Israel’s Jewish and democratic identities has been present since before the state’s founding. Under the current hard-line government, however, critics fear the state has been relinquishing the democratic part in favor of Jewish supremacy.

Religious politicians have been some of the most visible advocates for measures that decrease the likelihood of a contiguous Palestinian sovereign state, such as by constructing new settlements. Yet the current right-wing coalition has provided an impetus for more Israelis who are observant Jews to join peace efforts: the “Faithful Left,” or Smol Emuni in Hebrew.

The movement was born when hundreds showed up to a Jerusalem conference in January 2023, discussing their discomfort with how Jewish tradition was being used politically, and a second conference was held in February 2024. Because many of the Faithful Left are products of religious Zionist schools, their key advantage within the peace movement is the ability to challenge arguments for annexation or domination on religious grounds.

Older groups such as Rabbis for Human Rights, whose members range from humanist to Orthodox, have also drawn on religious ideas for decades.

Some activists within the Faithful Left have also been a part of Bnei Avraham, a group that shows solidarity with Palestinians by building relationships in the West Bank – specifically Hebron, where Palestinians routinely experience violence and harassment.

Secular anti-occupation groups such as Ta’ayush take this idea one step further by trying to provide in-person protection against violence. For example, Ta’ayush activists walk kids to school or accompany Palestinian shepherds as a buffer to prevent harassment.

The erosion of the Green Line has challenged many peace groups’ visions for peace and justice, as diverse as those are. Even more fundamentally, it has reopened the question of what it means for Israel to be Jewish and democratic – a question at the heart of Israeli peace activists’ challenges today.The Conversation

Atalia Omer, Professor of Religion, Conflict and Peace Studies, University of Notre Dame

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

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The leading ‘Day After’ Plans for Palestine-Israel are doomed: Progressives can Do Better https://www.juancole.com/2024/02/leading-palestine-progressives.html Sun, 18 Feb 2024 05:08:56 +0000 https://www.juancole.com/?p=217153

A Land for All offers an imaginative, reality-based vision to end the cycle of violence — and it’s gaining traction with both Palestinians and Israelis.

The Palestine solidarity movement has been an important voice for justice in recent months. It has mobilized millions behind the call for a desperately needed ceasefire, and has successfully pressured some key politicians, like Bernie Sanders, to take a stronger stand against Israel’s relentless bombing of Gaza. 

That said, the Palestine solidarity movement, and the American left more broadly, don’t seem to have a practical, pragmatic or achievable long-term vision for the future of Palestine-Israel. 

That’s unfortunate, because the two options topping the news — maintaining the status quo and a carceral two-state solution — are both bad. 

Not having a workable vision could be one reason pressuring Biden to demand a ceasefire in Gaza has been less successful than, for example, pressuring him into meaningful action on climate issues. Unlike with Palestine-Israel, activists working on the climate have long had informed, reality-based and entirely practical visions for a fossil-free future (such as the Green New Deal). 

The only vision that’s united the American left on Israel-Palestine is the “one-state solution,” in which Jews and Palestinians magically form one secular, democratic state like all the ones that we already know — as if with a ginormous copy-and-paste.

Unfortunately, neither Palestinians nor Jewish Israelis actually want that.

Support among Palestinians for a one-state solution has hovered around 10 percent since 2020. For one thing, they understandably seem to fear that discrimination against Palestinian citizens would continue. Also, could it be that after 750 years of occupation by various non-Arab powers, from Mamluks to Jews, Palestinians have some longing for real self-determination?

As for Jewish Israelis, a recent poll by the conservative Jewish People Policy Institute shows that 97 percent — whether left or right, secular or religious — want Israel to remain “a Jewish state.” Even allowing for a generous margin of error, it’s clear that very few Jewish Israelis are ready to give up their political self-determination. 

Meanwhile, the U.S. and Europe are pressuring Israel to accept a carceral “two-state solution” in which Jews and Palestinians are restricted to their own bunkered territories by an increasingly reinforced border wall — like today, in other words, but with “autonomy” for the Palestinians. That could be better than nothing, but it won’t lead to any lasting peace, either, since both peoples will continue to consider the land beyond the wall theirs. 


In 2017, Banksy painted these angels breaking open the West Bank separation wall using a crowbar. (Facebook/A Land for All)

Neither violence nor separation will bring freedom to either people, as Oct. 7 and what’s followed have amply demonstrated.  Luckily, Netanyahu is extremely unpopular for his immense failures before, on and after Oct. 7 — like propping up Hamas in order to divide Palestinians. (He was already deeply unpopular for his attempts to cripple the Israeli Supreme Court, which generated nine months of huge protests.) 

While the trauma from Oct. 7 has blinded much of the Israeli public to the carnage in Gaza, there’s recently been a renewed surge of direct action and protest against Netanyahu. If the American left can help pressure Biden to obtain a real ceasefire, Netanyahu’s career will be over, along with the war — and the momentum that ousts him could well sweep away those with similar views.

It would be a pity to squander such an opportunity by pushing for a hugely unpopular one-state or a deeply flawed two-state solution. 

Fortunately, the American left doesn’t have to come up with their own great plan, because there’s already a homegrown left vision in Israel-Palestine, that’s supported by a large and increasing number of Arabs and Jews. It’s utopian but also deeply pragmatic, and I believe it has the strongest chance of working of any “day after” plan.

A Land for All, formerly known as “Two States, One Homeland,” is a group advocating for two completely autonomous states, each with its own institutions and citizenship, with clear but open borders between them. Citizens of Israel and Palestine will have full access to live, work, travel and worship anywhere in their mutual homeland, with non-discrimination in housing enforced by a mutual judicial institution. 

This vision of an Israeli-Palestinian confederation is the same, with only slight differences, as what worked to bring relative peace to many formerly violent places on earth — like Northern Ireland, or for that matter Europe, where countries that warred for centuries would now never consider fighting each other. It can work in Israel-Palestine too: Two million Palestinians are currently living with Jews within Israel, as Israeli citizens, obviously with no walls to keep the two peoples apart.

Eight years ago, I met one of the founders of A Land For All, Meron Rapaport, and was instantly captivated by the simplicity, obviousness and justice of the idea. Rapaport didn’t think it had much chance of success at that time, but he thought the day might come when the status quo would be widely seen as untenable, and a pragmatic but beautiful vision might fill the gap. 

Now is such a time. 

Composed of both Israeli Jews and Palestinians, with an equal number of each in leadership positions, A Land For All’s annual conferences, public and academic events, and publications have already resulted in the option of confederation entering the vocabulary of activists, experts and opinion makers. 

And a poll by Palestinian-Israeli Pulse showed support for confederation growing among the general public as well — from 24 percent in 2016 to 29 percent in 2023 — and surging dramatically among the Israeli left — from 35 percent in 2016 to 66 percent in 2023. (The same poll shows support for the “classical” two-state solution declining among both Jewish and Palestinian Israelis, from 53 percent in 2016 to 34 percent in 2023.) The group has begun a more grassroots campaign as well, to further influence public opinion in Israel-Palestine — and abroad, since international help and pressure are needed.

The group’s Palestinian and Jewish directors, Rula Hardal and May Pundak, recently toured the U.S., speaking with audiences and meeting with leaders of several progressive Jewish and Palestinian groups, who reacted warmly to the Land For All vision. 

A Land For All is continuing to work with progressive groups in the U.S. to help make this vision more visible to movement grassroots. (On Feb. 20, I am co-hosting a public Zoom session, together with the Center for Artistic Activism and members of A Land For All, to start brainstorming ways to spread a much-needed vision of justice and freedom into our movements.) 

When the war ends — if Netanyahu goes to jail for massive corruption and Hamas loses its murderous hold on Gaza — the vision of A Land For All will still face huge challenges from extremists. The support and pressure of the American left will be critical to ensuring that, despite the opposition, this deeply pragmatic (yet utopian) vision can gain traction and win — an outcome the whole world needs.

Andy Bichlbaum is a co-founder of the Yes Men, an ever-expanding, increasingly diverse group who, these days, mainly partner with activist groups on creative tactics to further campaigns. The Yes Men have made three feature films about their stunts, which give mainstream journalists humorous fodder for covering important issues.

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What the World needs Now is another Winter Truce https://www.juancole.com/2023/12/world-another-winter.html Mon, 18 Dec 2023 05:15:01 +0000 https://www.juancole.com/?p=216014 Tiffin, Oh. (Special to Informed Comment) – An iconic song back in the 1960’s addressed the causes of war, and what leads young people to fight in them. Buffy Saint Marie’s Universal Soldier advised that we could end war if soldiers refused to fight. So what if we gave her idea a test this Winter? Let’s suggest to the soldiers among the various warring parties from the Middle East to Europe to Africa and beyond that they refuse to kill each other for a while.

This idea may not be as crazy as it first may sound, and in fact has been tried in the past with limited success. Resistance to war is taking place right now in both Eastern Europe and the Middle East. In Israel, thousands of military reservists are refusing to take part in the violence of the occupation, and in protest of the country’s drift toward authoritarianism. Among Palestinians, non-violent resistance also has a very large following, and has had for a number of years. And if anything, the numbers of military refuseniks in Russia and Ukraine are even greater. The BBC has reported that 20,000 young men have fled Ukraine to avoid military service, and those numbers in Russia are likely higher.

In fact, resistance to war by young men facing conscription and even active duty soldiers is not new, and has a storied history.

For instance, during the First World War on the evening of December 24th in 1914, peace broke out in the most unlikely of places. In the blasted, putrid trenches of Belgium and France, soldiers fighting on the Western Front put aside their arms in what became known as the Christmas Truce. Although World War I was then only a few months old, there had already been a million combat deaths. Many soldiers were weary of the futility and horrific costs of the war, and thousands of them spontaneously stopped trying to kill each other.

The drama began on Christmas Eve, as German soldiers lit up their Tannenbaums (Christmas trees), put them on top of their trenches in view of the Allied troops, and began to sing carols. From there, full scale fraternization became widespread. Troops put down their weapons, climbed out of the trenches and met in no-mans-land to pray and sing and exchange greetings and gifts. The cease fire continued into Christmas Day during which the dead were buried, toasts were exchanged and soccer games played.

The Christmas Truce | History

The break in hostilities was actually a mutiny, not a truce. It was initiated by the soldiers themselves against express orders from military commanders. In fact, the political and military leaders on both sides were horrified when the shooting stopped, and did everything they could to force a rapid resumption of hostilities. Dire threats of severe punishment were issued, and the news of the rebellion was suppressed. But in spite of this, it took weeks for the fighting to resume in some areas. Lance Corporal Adolph Hitler, serving with the Bavarian Army, did not think much of the cease fire either.

The Christmas Truce is often portrayed as a singular event, and it is true that in the later years of the war there were few holiday cease-fires. But as the war ground on in its destructive stupidity, very large mutinies took place. In the East, the Russian army disintegrated, the soldiers voted with their feet, and went home to make revolution. There were also large-scale mutinies among German and French troops, weary of being fodder for cannons. Much of Europe, not just Russia, teetered on the brink of revolution.

In fact, military mutinies have been common throughout history. During the Napoleonic Wars entire British naval fleets rebelled over brutal treatment and sympathy with French republican ideals. Warships commanded by mutineers blockaded the port of London.

The United States armed forces have at times also rebelled, for a variety of reasons. During the Mexican American War of 1846 to 1848 an entire battalion of Irish immigrants went over to the Mexican side; and in the Civil War fraternization was widespread.

But it was during the Vietnam War that resistance from inside the US military was most consequential. By 1971 the U.S. military was nearly unable to function due to active dissent among all branches of the armed forces. Aircraft carriers could not put to sea, airmen declined to fly, and ground units did not engage. Disgruntled troops had as much or more to do with ending the war than the anti-war movement.

Buffy Sainte-Marie – Universal Soldier (Video)

Upon reflection, it is incredible that crucial facts about our military adventures, such as GI resistance during the Vietnam War, are almost entirely absent from the news and history as it is taught. The topic is deemed inappropriate for young minds in our high schools and most universities, and has all but disappeared from the public consciousness. One cannot help but wonder how free our free society actually is.

In this season of peace, the citizens of the world can hope for another spontaneous truce from the trenches. If so, Buffy Saint Marie will deserve some of the credit.

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Is it Time (Once Again) for Nonviolent Rebellion? On Ending Dreams of Revenge in Israel, Palestine, and Elsewhere https://www.juancole.com/2023/11/nonviolent-rebellion-elsewhere.html Wed, 29 Nov 2023 05:02:54 +0000 https://www.juancole.com/?p=215647 ( Tomdispatch.com) – When I was in my early twenties, I seriously considered murdering someone. He had given my best friend genital herpes, which many health practitioners then believed was the agent responsible for causing cervical cancer in women. (It wasn’t.)

Back in the 1970s, though, I believed that, by infecting my friend, he might have set in motion a process that would someday kill her. That he was an arrogant jerk made it that much easier for me to contemplate murdering him. But there was a larger context to my private dream of revenge. My anger was also fed by a growing awareness that so many of us were just then acquiring of the history of systematic patriarchal threats to, and constraints on, the lives of women. And in those heady days of second-wave radical feminism, I could imagine killing that man as a legitimate response, however brutal, to the male violence that seemed to surround me, and as part of a larger uprising of women.

Lest you think that my sense of systemic, state-supported male violence was nothing more than a fever dream of the times, remember that, in the 1970s, domestic violence was still often treated as a predictably normal possibility in marriage. Men’s white sleeveless T-shirts were known as “wife-beaters” and, on reruns of The Honeymooners, I could still watch comedian Jackie Gleason threaten to use his fist to send his wife Alice “to the moon.” Oh, and should you think that everything has changed since then, today, more than half a century after my murderous daydreaming, the Supreme Court is considering a case that could overturn a federal law prohibiting someone from buying a gun while still under a domestic-violence restraining order.

When I remember what I considered doing at the time, however, I’m now horrified. Even then, I was an antiwar activist, a proponent of nonviolent action against the still-ongoing American war in Vietnam and in the struggle for Black rights here at home. But truly grasping the level of woman-hatred then drove me a little crazy and gave me the urge to fight back in kind.

Epistemic Certainty and War

Was I overreacting to the idea of my friend getting a sexually transmitted disease? Of course I was, especially by trusting so completely my “knowledge” about the connection between herpes and cervical cancer. In fact, what I “knew” would prove dead wrong decades later. Indeed, I didn’t even know (with what a philosopher might call “epistemic certainty“) that my friend had gotten herpes from that particular guy in the first place. But someone gave it to her, and someone, I thought, should pay.

My murderous intentions then might serve as a miniature version of President George W. Bush’s epistemic certainty in 2003 that Iraq possessed weapons of mass destruction. (It didn’t.) Did Bush and his vice president, Dick Cheney, truly believe in those weapons of mass destruction? My guess is that they just wanted to invade Iraq and didn’t care one way or the other. Nonetheless, enough people in this country did believe in them — including that illustrious flagship newspaper the New York Times — for the invasion to take place with the support of a majority of Americans.

According to the Iraq Body Count project, at least 300,000 people would die in that war, a substantial majority of them civilians. Brown University’s Costs of War Project has tallied up the human costs of all of America’s post-9/11 wars of revenge and found that “at least 940,000 people have been killed by direct war violence in Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria, Yemen, and Pakistan. The number of people who have been wounded or have fallen ill as a result of the conflicts is far higher.”

Millions more, Costs of War’s research suggests, were killed indirectly through economic collapse, the disruption of public services and health systems, and environmental contamination. And 38 million people were displaced from their homes thanks to Washington’s post-9/11 “Global War on Terror.” That’s about 1,300 people made homeless for each of the almost 3,000 who died in the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001.

Those 9/11 attacks were a hideous crime. But none of the 19 men directly responsible for them were citizens of any of the countries against which the United States launched its wars of reprisal. (Fifteen were Saudis, two were from the United Arab Emirates, one was Egyptian, and one Lebanese.) Still, it didn’t matter to the people of this country. Someone had killed almost 3,000 of us that day, so someone had to pay.

Horror from Gaza, Horror in Gaza

On October 7, 2023, as the world watched in horror, the military wing of Hamas launched a surprise attack from Gaza, murdering about 1,200 people, most of them Israelis, most of them civilians, significant numbers of them children. They kidnapped as many as 240 others, a few of whom have since died and a few of whom have been released. I must admit that I’m glad my father, raised as an Orthodox Jew in this country, didn’t live to see that day.

Like the U.S. in 2001, Israel has now launched its war of reprisal. The announced goal is the complete destruction of Hamas, which, whether achievable or not, now seems to entail the destruction of much of Gaza itself.

More than 12,000 people, nearly half of them children, have already been killed as of this writing. Half the population — over a million people — have been forcibly displaced from the northern to the southern part of Gaza, supposedly to avoid a crushing aerial war. Meanwhile, an estimated 45% of all housing units in the north have been damaged or destroyed. On November 16th, however, Israel began warning people in Khan Younis, a town in southern Gaza that they would have to move again, as its ground war continued to expand.

To understand what this means, it’s helpful to look at a map of the area. It’s called the Gaza “Strip” because it’s a roughly rectangular little strip of land, less than 25 miles long and 10 miles wide at its widest point. Yet it houses 2.2 million people (half of whom are 18 or younger). It’s surrounded by the Mediterranean Sea on the west, Egypt to the south, and Israel on the east and north. Because most Gazans can never leave and communication with the rest of the world has largely been controlled by Israel, it has been described as the world’s largest open-air prison.

Epistemic Certainty (and Bombs) Strike Again

Despite the fact that international humanitarian law, including the Geneva Conventions, absolutely forbids attacks on medical facilities in wartime, the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) launched repeated raids on a number of hospitals and health centers, including the Al-Shifa Hospital, a sprawling medical center in northern Gaza. Here we encounter another instance of how epistemic certainty is used to justify wars and their inevitable collateral damage. In this case, the Israeli government maintained that Al-Shifa sat atop a major Hamas command-and-control center, part of a network of underground tunnels. Just as certainty about Saddam’s weapons of mass destruction justified American crimes in those post-9/11 wars, certainty about a command center that may well turn out not to exist justified attacks on one of northern Gaza’s last functioning hospitals.

There’s no need to further catalog the horrors of this war here. The world’s media has done little else for the last month and a half. Meanwhile, wars continue elsewhere: an ongoing conflict in Sudan has killed thousands and displaced millions to almost no notice in the U.S. media; Europe is living through a World War I-style conflict in Ukraine, where Russian and Ukrainian armies continue to chew through the lives of thousands of soldiers to advance a few yards in one direction or the other.

War Works — for the Weapons Companies

“War! What is it good for?”

That’s the question the Motown group the Temptations asked back in 1968. Their answer, as people my age will remember, was: “Absolutely nothing!” Modern wars almost always kill more civilians than combatants, especially when collateral effects like the destruction of infrastructure are taken into account, and they rarely achieve their stated objectives.

And yet, today’s wars are regularly fought because people believe war is the best, often the only method of protecting innocent people from violent death. Collective human experience would seem to suggest the opposite. As a means of preventing death, war really does leave something to be desired. Even if you’re willing to treat the deaths of enemy civilians as a “necessary” price to pay for your own people’s survival, history suggests that, in the long run, those deaths won’t protect you. Unless the IDF is prepared to kill everyone in Gaza, it’s unlikely that those who live through the present nightmare will come out of it with less desire to kill Israelis than they had before it started.

It turns out, however, that wars — big and small — are good for something: enriching the corporations that manufacture weapons. As the Los Angeles Times reported in September, the war in Ukraine has been a boon to weapons manufacturers, especially in the United States:

“Weapons companies are seeing their shares rise on the stock market to their best level in years, with indexes for the defense sector outperforming those tracking the broader market by a wide margin… The combat in Ukraine, now in its second year, has jacked [up] the global arms trade, fueling a new appetite for matériel not just in Moscow and Kyiv but also around the world as nations gird themselves for possible confrontations. The war has rocked long-standing relationships within the weapons industry, rejiggered the calculations of who sells what to whom and changed customers’ tastes in what they want in their arsenal.”

One example of this realignment: Israel and the United Arab Emirates have started a joint weapons development project. European governments, too, from the United Kingdom to Germany, have raised their weapons-production game, with Germany pledging to spend $100 billion to re-equip its armed forces in the next few years.

Now, Ukraine seeks to kill two birds (and a lot of people) with one stone, by partnering with U.S. companies to turn the country into what the Associated Press calls a “weapons hub for the west.” As the Ukrainian Minister for Strategic Industries Oleksandr Kamyshin told the AP, “We’re really focusing on making Ukraine the arsenal of the free world.”

War may not be healthy for children and other living things, but it’s great for the arms industry.

Is There No Alternative?

Why, when war so rarely seems to achieve its stated aims, are the people who seek alternatives to it invariably considered naïve or stupid? Where is the wisdom in doing the same murderous thing again and again, each time expecting a different outcome?

War, we are told, is necessary because there is no legitimate alternative. Refusal to use violence when you’ve been attacked or when you live under a regime of grinding oppression is at best stupidity and at worst cowardice. Yet for decades, as journalist Peter Beinart wrote eloquently in the New York Times after the October 7th attacks, Palestinians, who are neither stupid nor cowards, have done precisely that — employing time-honored strategies like the 2018 March of Return, a series of massive peaceful demonstrations at the Israeli wall surrounding Gaza. In the nonviolent Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions movement, or BDS, Palestinians have adopted a method once employed by the African National Congress to bring pressure on South Africa’s apartheid regime. As a senator, Joe Biden voted for sanctions on South Africa, but as president, he’s condemned the BDS movement as “too often veer[ing] into antisemitism.”

In Israel/Palestine, it turns out there is an alternative to war, indeed more than one. It’s not easy or safe, however. The Israeli organization Standing Together, for example, unites Palestinians and Jews in concrete work, like running a bilingual hotline for people affected by violence or racism, in an effort to bypass what they see as the stagnation miring both major NGOs and the leftist parties in Israel. In the wake of the October 7th attack, they wrote to their supporters:

“After over a month in this horrific reality, the feelings of despair are starting to creep up on everyone. It’s in moments like these that solidarity and hope are more important than ever. If we let despair win, we lose our ability to act, and if we don’t act, we won’t have an impact on our reality. We know that, in these incredibly difficult times, we must continue to act — by strengthening the partnership between Jews and Palestinians — and working together to start to think about what happens the day after this deadly war ends, and what kind of society we want to build.”

Standing Together is not alone in seeking another way. One of those killed by Hamas was peace activist Vivian Silver, who spent her life building connections between Palestinians and Jewish Israelis. She served on the board of B’tselem, an Israeli human rights organization, and routinely drove Gazans in her car to healthcare appointments in Israel. In her newsletter, her friend Dana Mills, a former director of the Israeli group Peace Now, wrote that “the only way to avenge this horrific loss of Vivian’s life” is to continue to support her demand for justice and peace for everyone “between the river and the sea.”

That response to Silver’s death continues the tradition of nonviolent action as the only possible means of interrupting a deadly cycle of revenge and counter-revenge.

In her essay “On Revolution and Equilibrium,” written at the height of the Black Power movement, the nonviolent activist Barbara Deming addressed a number of critiques of nonviolent action by her comrades. Far from being a coward’s way out, Deming argued, nonviolence in response to aggression is so difficult precisely because it’s so dangerous. On the other hand, nonviolence doesn’t condemn your own side to mass suicide. Take the long view, the one that might extend beyond our own personal deaths, and you’ll see that eventually those who oppose violent oppression with nonviolent obstruction will take fewer casualties than those who choose armed struggle. Eventually (though never soon enough), we’ll wear out the opposition. Yes, some of us will certainly die in the process, because we face real violence. But we’re already dying. The only question is how to prevent more death.

As Deming wrote,

“In nonviolent struggle, the violence used against one may mount for a while (indeed, if one is bold in one’s rebellion, it is bound to do so), but the escalation is no longer automatic; with the refusal of one side to retaliate, the mainspring of the automation has been snapped and one can count on reaching a point where de-escalation begins. One can count, that is, in the long run, on receiving far fewer casualties.”

I am glad that I encountered this tradition of vigorous nonviolent struggle back when I was in the grip of that murderous rage. It convinced me that I could take more effective action against the systems that demeaned and constrained me than any of my nightmare dreams of violent revenge could offer. The longer I live, the surer I become that, in a world filled with deadly armed struggles, nonviolent rebellion is the only way off the hamster wheel of war.

Via Tomdispatch.com

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Why we Need Armistice Day Back: Remembering the Horrors of War https://www.juancole.com/2023/11/armistice-remembering-horrors.html Sat, 11 Nov 2023 05:08:53 +0000 https://www.juancole.com/?p=215276 Greenfield, Mass. (Special to Informed Comment) – November 11 – at the “11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month” – marks 105 years since the World War 1 Armistice, which ended the nightmare of the deadliest war in history until then.  The brutality of that first industrial war robbed 20 million soldiers and civilians of life and wounded another 20 million.  In 1926 the US Congress declared November 11th as Armistice Day:  a legal holiday “to commemorate with thanksgiving and prayer  and exercises designed to perpetuate peace through good will and mutual understanding between nations.”  Subsequently, President Calvin Coolidge issued a Proclamation “inviting the people of the United States to observe the day in schools and churches with appropriate ceremonies of friendly relations with all other peoples.”  Armistice Day embodied a resolve for world peace.

All public ideals of peace with all other peoples were discarded on June 1, 1954, when the US government renamed Armistice Day as Veterans Day.  This erasure of Armistice Day tragically matched our country’s history of militarism after World War II: first bombing North Korea nearly out of existence and metastasizing into a pathological military-industrial-government complex that claims the lion’s share of our discretionary federal taxes and steals from our government’s social investments in health, education, housing and welfare.

Former Marine Corps officer Camillo Mac Bica interprets the rebranding of  Armistice day to Veterans Day as enabling militarists and war profiteers  “…to celebrate and promote militarism…misrepresent war members of the military as heroes, and encourage the enlistment of cannon fodder for future war for profit.”  Many thousands of soldiers and veterans of major US wars of the 20th and 21st centuries, including Mac Bica, have turned against war and revived the intent of Armistice Day: “friendly relations with all other peoples.”

Veterans For Peace was founded in 1985 by 10 US veterans in response to the global nuclear arms race and U.S. military interventions in Central America.

In their words, it “is an organization of former soldiers and allies who know too well the costs of war – the obvious, visible wounds; the unseen wounds that curse us and our families for generations and the cost to society of maintaining a military larger than the next ten nations combined. Bitter experience taught us that war is insanity and suffering.”


Image by NoName_13 from Pixabay

Imagine (in the spirit of John Lennon) if every school celebrated at least one day of peace-making for all 5th graders on International Peace Day September 21, as does the Maine Endwell School District with partners Veterans for Peace and the local historical society.  The day is replete with music, with children playing instruments and making posters, a magician and beekeepers – all with themes of peace, and interviews with children regarding what peace means to them.

Veterans for Peace position on the current war in Ukraine, which has killed and wounded some 500,000 people, embodies their lived ideals: “It is time to drop the weapons and embrace diplomacy and peace.  For the people of Ukraine, the people of Russia, the people of Europe, the United States and China. For the children, for the civilians, for the soldiers, for all living things: We demand Diplomacy, Not War. We demand Peace in Ukraine.” 

I am reminded, as I read their words, of Erich Maria Remarque who enlisted at age 19 in the World War I German army.  Some 10 years after the war’s end, he published his first (and what some consider the greatest) anti-war novel, All Quiet on the Western Front. Remarque’s 19-year-old soldier protagonist acutely observes the corrupt dynamics of war: “I see how peoples are set against each other . . . foolishly, innocently, obediently slaying each other … While they [the promoters and boosters] continued to talk and write, we saw the wounded and dying…The wrong people do the fighting.” 

In perhaps the most incisive moment of Remarque’s novel, a young German soldier gazes upon a young French soldier he has killed and ponders their common humanity, with words that undercut the war’s hard-bitten hatred and national chauvinism. “Why do they never tell us that you are poor devils like us, that your mothers are just as anxious as ours, and that we have the same fear of death, and the same dying and the same agony.” 

Undoubtedly, the voices of Russian and Ukrainian soldiers and vets turned war resisters will emerge in time in bitter protest against that war.

We remember soldiers who have died in US wars on Memorial Day and soldiers who have served in the US military, especially those maimed, injured and broken by the moral injury of war, on Veterans Day.

Why not, then, RESTORE Armistice Day with its resolve for friendly relations with all other peoples” for the sake of world peace, if we are to survive.

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Why so Many Jews Denounce Israel’s War on Gaza https://www.juancole.com/2023/11/many-denounce-israels.html Sat, 11 Nov 2023 05:02:07 +0000 https://www.juancole.com/?p=215316 By Yakov M. Rabkin

( Pressenza ) – A profound division exists between Zionist advocates of Israel on the one hand, and both secular and religious Jews, on the other, who reject Zionism and thus the very idea of a separate state for the Jews. Most Jews must be somewhere in between. For years, they have cringed at Israel’s actions without, however, questioning the ethnocratic nature of the Israeli state.  For them, “Israel’s right to exist” is sacred because they fear that the only alternative is a physical destruction of Israeli Jews. Even though most of them live in liberal democracies, it is hard for them to fathom that Israel may change its nature, like South Africa did a few decades ago, and become a liberal state with equal rights for everyone on the entire territory under Israeli control between the Mediterranean and the river Jordan.

Israel’s assault on Gaza has made many Jews worldwide, particularly the young, to recoil from any association with the state of Israel. But at least just as many refused to remain “Jews of silence” and came to denounce Israel’s vengeful response to Hamas’ attack on its territory on October 7, 2023.

Especially in the United States, Jews have prominently cried out against the violence in Gaza. Hundreds of protesters closed down New York’s Central Station asking for an immediate ceasefire. A week earlier, Jews wrapped in prayer shawls staged a sit-in at the U.S. Congress in Washington. After demanding an end to the violence, they opened prayer books and began reciting the ancient words that have steadied Jews for generations. Just a few days ago, Jews unfurled banners reading “Palestinians should be free” at the base of the Statue of Liberty in New York.

Anti-Zionist Ultra-Orthodox Jews have burned Israeli flags at their protests around the world. They believe that the Zionist state is not simply an ‘appropriation’ of their Jewish symbols and identity, but the root cause of a bloody conflict in which innocent Jews and Palestinians suffer.

Indeed, Israel is a Zionist state. Calling it Jewish only creates a confusion because it is hard to define it. Israel embodies European ethnic nationalism shaped in late 19th century, rather than Judaism that has developed for millennia. From the start, Zionists despised Jews and Judaism as they aimed at breeding a new species: the intrepid Hebrew warrior farmer. They have succeeded beyond their wildest dreams. Israel has built a mobilized society and a formidable high-tech war machine. As Israeli society has moved steadily to the right, it has consolidated the support of right-wing extremists and racists, including antisemites, around the world, such as white supremacists in the United States.

Israel is the most recent settler colony. Rhodesia and Algeria are now a distant memory. South Africa has freed itself from the official apartheid. While settlers in the Americas and Oceania perpetrated genocide against the aboriginals in the 19th century, Israel initiated massive ethnic cleansing rather late, only in 1947. Some, like the Israeli historian Benny Morris, who documented it, regretted that the Zionists did not complete the job like the white Americans, Argentines or Australians, who wiped out most of the local populations.  Indeed, Israel now has under its control approximately equal numbers of Palestinians and Jews, but most Palestinians don’t have political rights.

Many Jews, both in Israel and elsewhere, have been trying to come to terms with the contradictions between the Judaism they profess to adhere to and the Zionist ideology that has taken hold of them. A new variety of Judaism has taken root in Israel: National Judaism, dati-leumi in Hebrew. For some Jews, this new faith assuages these contradictions.

Among its most fervent followers one finds the assassin of prime minister Itzhak Rabin who had attempted to find an accommodation with the Palestinians, and prominent members of today’s Israeli government. National Judaism is also the ideology of many vigilante settlers who, since the onset of the war on Gaza, have intensified the harassment, dispossession, and murder of Palestinians on the West Bank. The vigilantes armed with rifles are proud to complement what the Israeli army is doing with tanks, bombs, and rockets in Gaza.

Quite a few Jews now wonder if this separate state for the Jews chronically generating violence is “good for the Jews.” The tardiness of this questioning reflects the success of Israel’s masquerading as “the Jewish and democratic state”, a theoretical and ideological oxymoron. The bombing of Gaza has punctured that propaganda balloon and exposed Israel’s character as a bellicose settler colony, victim of its own practice of exclusion and oppression.

Many Jews deplore this practice because it contradicts all that Judaism teaches, particularly the core values of humility, compassion, and kindness. They realize that those Jews – in truth, the vast majority of them – who rejected Zionism over a century ago, may have been right. Other Jews also find themselves in an emotional bind. Deeply saddened by Hamas’ attack on Israel and likewise devasted by Israel’s implacable response, they are also worried about the surge in anti-Jewish sentiment all around them.

The deadly Hamas attack of October 7, 2023 shows how Israel’s displacement and oppression of the Palestinians breeds their hatred.  Consequently, it physically endangers Jews in Israel. The subsequent killing of thousands of Palestinians in Gaza imperils Jews both in Israel and elsewhere. (Muslims do become targets too, as the tragic killing of a six-year-old American Palestinian shows.)

When Israel claims to be the state of all the Jews it turns them into hostages of its policies and actions. When Jewish community organizations declare “We stand with Israel!” they act as proxies for Israel rather than representatives of Jews. To be more precise, they represent those Jews whose identity has become mainly political: believers in Israel, right or wrong.

Israel and Zionism have long polarized the Jews. While Jews worldwide are largely split between these “Israel-firsters” and those who denounce Israel, neither camp influences Israel’s actions. They are akin to fans, rooting for one or the other side, watching from the outside as the situation unfolds. Blaming and attacking Jews for Israel’s actions is wrong and antisemitic. It also strengthens the core Zionist claim that Jews can be safe only in Israel.

It remains to be seen whether the fracture between those who hold fast to Jewish moral tradition and the converts to ethnic nationalism may one day be repaired. However fateful for Jews and Judaism, this fracture is less important for Israel, which nowadays counts many more evangelical Christians than Jews among its unconditional supporters.

Massive world-wide protests have so far affected neither Israelis’ vengeful violence in Gaza nor the supply of American weapons to support it. There is reason to despair. But Judaic tradition encourages Jews to continue, even in seemingly hopeless circumstances: “It is not your duty to finish the work, but neither are you at liberty to desist from it…” (Pirke Avot 2:16) This is why many Jews remain at the forefront of the struggle against Israel’s wanton violence. But when the violence ends, many will realize that their protests have emancipated them from Israel’s emotional stranglehold.

This emancipation from the Zionist state has been observed in very different Jewish communities, Ashkenazi and Sephardi, strictly observant and more liberal. Thus, an ultra-Orthodox critic of Israel, usually antagonistic to Reform Judaism, commends a Reform rabbi for saying that “when Israel’s Jewish supporters abroad don’t speak out against disastrous policies that neither guarantee safety for her citizens nor produce the right climate in which to try and reach a just peace with the Palestinians … they are betraying millennial Jewish values.”

The nuclear armed Israel endangers not only the Palestinians and the Jews. It threatens an Armageddon for the region and the Samson option for the world. These apocalyptic scenarios may be triggered if an Israeli government decides that the country cannot cope with an existential threat. This may mean not only the threat of physical destruction but also the looming end of the institutionalized dominance of Israeli Jews over the Palestinians, the end of ethnocracy.

There is hope. England oppressed Ireland for centuries. France and Germany bitterly fought many wars. What will it take for Israelis and Palestinians to live peacefully side by side? Many Jews and many more Palestinians believe that the apartheid-like structure of the Zionist state, which explains why it has lived by the sword since its inception, must change. They know that only when all the inhabitants of the Holy Land enjoy equal rights and have a stake in whatever political arrangement is reached (one state, two states or something else) will the cycle of death stop.

Reprinted with the author’s permission from Pressenza .

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