Many Jews see
Zionist Israel as the glorious fulfillment of a long cherished Jewish dream,
the culmination of a two thousand year long struggle against unrelenting
anti-Semitism, and a bulwark against any future persecution of Jews.
Many Palestinians
see Zionist Israel as not only harmful for their material well-being, having
appropriated their land and its resources, but at a more fundamental level, as
a deep wound on their civilization, and an affront to the honor and dignity of
their fathers and forefathers.
This essay comes
out of an attempt to understand some of the historical reasons why the Israeli
and the Palestinian views are so far apart and so intensely antagonistic
towards each other.
The Rise of
Anti-Semitism
Israeli
historian Benny Morris quotes a 19th century traveler passing through territory
under Ottoman rule,
I have seen a little fellow of six years old, with a troop of fat
toddlers of only three and four, teaching [them] to throw stones at a Jew, and
one little urchin would, with the greatest coolness, waddle up to the man and
literally spit upon his Jewish gabardine.1
Quotes such as
these are often presented as evidence of widespread anti-Semitism prevailing in
the Ottoman empire, part of the unrelenting anti-Semitism faced by Jews in the
diaspora over their nearly two-thousand years of exile.
A deeper
understanding of the context reveals a far more complex situation, however.
We learn, for
example, that the Ottoman rulers gave Jews the right to pray at the Western
Wall in Jerusalem.
This right was affirmed and reaffirmed by firmans (decrees) issued by
various Ottoman sultans. We also learn that while slavery was legal in the Ottoman Empire, Jews (as well as Muslims and Armenian
Christians) were exempted from becoming slaves. We also find that many
individual Jews were accepted by non-Jews in the Ottoman
Empire as leaders and intellectuals, and at least two (Emmanuel
Carasso and Moiz Cohen) of the dozen or so most prominent leaders of the Young
Turks movement were Jewish.
Consider the
expulsion of Jews from Spain
during the Spanish Inquisition, a tragic event widely considered to have been
driven by anti-Semitism. The Virtual Jewish Library has this to say,
Anti-Semitism in Spain
peaked during the rule of Ferdinand and Isabella as they instituted the Spanish
Inquisition... Ferdinand and Isabella issued the Alhambra Decree in 1492, which
officially called for all Jews, regardless of age, to leave the kingdom.2
But Jews were
not the only ones expelled from Spain
during the inquisition. Prior to the Reconquista,
Spain
had been ruled by Arabic speaking Muslims. After the victory of the Christian
armies, Muslims in Spain
were forcibly converted to Christianity. Between 1609 and 1614, King Philip III
expelled all Moriscos (Muslims forcibly converted to Christianity, and their
descendants) from Spain.
Thus, what at first glance appears to be pure-and-simple anti-Semitism turns
out to be part of a phenomenon that targeted not just Jews but Muslims as well.
The broad picture
that emerges from history is not a straightforward one of Jews in the diaspora
facing systematic and unrelenting anti-Semitism throughout their two-thousand
years of exile, but a far more complex one. Jews certainly faced varying
degrees of discrimination, but in many cases, they also enjoyed certain
privileges denied to some other communities and in some other cases,
discrimination against Jews was part of a broader culture of discrimination
that targeted Jews as well as non-Jews.
Max Dimont,
author of Jews, God and History, refuses to characterize the discrimination
faced by Jews in pre-industrial societies as anti-Semitism. According to him,
Irrational race anti-Semitism … was unknown in the pagan, Grecian,
Roman, Islamic and medieval cultures in which the Jews lived from 2000 B.C. to
1800 A.D. We have seen how during these 3,800 years Jews were slain, massacred,
tortured, sold as slaves - but who was not treated much the same way in those
days? Anti-Jewish violence differed in no way from the violence directed at
other minority nations and groups.
Pre-industrial
societies tended to be made up of largely self-governing communities that were
defined primarily by tribe, religion or village. The lives of individuals were
governed primarily by community institutions rather than by the state.
Different communities and different classes of communities enjoyed different
rights and faced different restrictions. The mosaic of communities that made up
the social order in pre-industrial societies often represented peaceful and
symbiotic relationships between various communities, but just as often
witnessed contestation and strife. Jews were part of this mosaic of
communities, and in the hierarchy of communities, Jews were never allowed to
occupy the top rungs of kings and nobles. However neither were Jews relegated
to the lowest rungs - the landless peasants, the serfs, the slaves and the
pagans. Jews tended to be somewhere in the middle in the hierarchy of
communities, and the average Jew was usually no worse off than the average
member of pre-industrial society.
The social
structure in Europe went through a fundamental
change with the industrial revolution and the advent of the nation state. By
the end of the 19th century European society had undergone a radical
transformation from a medieval feudal framework to the framework of the nation
state. Increasingly the lives of individuals came to be governed by a direct
contract between the nation state and the individual, greatly reducing the role
of churches, rabbis, tribal elders, and other traditional community leaders and
institutions. Identity came to be defined primarily as membership of a nation rather
than a kin group or religious community, and “national self-determination” –
the idea that every nation must have its own sovereign territorial state –
became important. Nations came to be marked out in terms of national languages,
national territories, national values, national heroes, and particularly in Germany and some other countries in Europe, in terms of national racial or ethnic identities.
These national identity markers were woven into highly romanticized nationalist
narratives. The connection between a nation and its national “homeland” or “fatherland”
came to assume particular significance. This connection went well beyond the
traditional connection between a tribal group and its ancestral town or village,
and came to imply a deep and enduring connection, a primordial and eternal bond,
an almost filial relationship, between an entire racial or ethnic group and the
land that it inhabited and cultivated. This connection was thought to be unique
and exclusive to a particular nation and was imbued with a mystical quality perhaps
best captured by the German phrase “blut-und-boden”, or “blood-and-soil”.
Paradoxically,
nationalism in Europe was simultaneously inclusionary
as well as exclusionary. The inclusionary character of nationalism was evident
in the German unification and the Italian Risorgimento.
However, European nationalism was fundamentally exclusionary when it came to
the Jews, particularly in societies where racial or ethnic identity was thought
to be the core of national identity. A Jew, it was thought, could never become
an authentic German, or an authentic Frenchman, or an authentic Russian. It was
not so much a case of Jews losing their authenticity, as much as new national
ethnic identities emerging that excluded Jews. In the past there had never been
an authentic Ottoman ethnic identity, for example, nor an authentic
Austro-Hungarian one, and thus Jews and non-Jews alike never viewed themselves
as authentically Austro-Hungarian or Ottoman in a racial or ethnic sense. In
the era of ethnic nationalism, however, not being viewed as authentically
German (or French, Russian, etc.) would have serious consequences for the Jews
of Europe.
It was in this
charged atmosphere of European ethnic nationalism that Jews were singled out and
targeted for systematic vilification and persecution in a phenomenon accurately
described as anti-Semitism. Though this anti-Semitism was technically not
exactly racism (the Nazis treated light-skinned Jews no better than
darker-skinned ones), it had characteristics that were very similar to the most
extreme forms of racism.
The Nature of
Zionism
An “uprooted,
impoverished and sterile” people, “living parasitically off an alien economic
body”4 was how an essay written in the early 1930s described the
Jews of Europe. Such sentiments were common among anti-Semites at the time, but
what comes as somewhat of a surprise about this particular essay is that it was
written not by some Nazi anti-Semite, but by David Ben Gurion, a leading
Zionist who would one day become the first Prime Minister of Israel. At first
glance the seemingly anti-Semitic sentiment expressed by a prominent Zionist
might appear rather astonishing but a deeper understanding of the nature of
Zionism and the historical forces that shaped it reveal that such views are
neither surprising nor inconsistent with the core values of Zionism.
It is important
to recall that Zionism arose just as ethnic nationalism was taking hold in Europe. Zionism arose from within the milieu of European
ethnic nationalism, and as a reaction to the new racist anti-Semitism that
accompanied it.
Ethnic
nationalist ideologues in Europe saw the
“Jewish Problem” in the following terms:
- Jews were not just a separate
religious group with a different set of rituals, prayers and religious
beliefs, but constituted a separate and inferior race. As such Jews could
never hope to become German (or Russian, French, etc.).
- Jews were outsiders. They could
never establish authentic “blood-and-soil” links to the national homeland
as true sons of the soil could.
- Being a separate race and without
any deep or enduring ties to the national homeland, Jews could never hope
to become part of the (German, Russian, etc.) nation and could never be
accepted as part of the national spirit (Volksgeist in German).
- Lacking any close connection to the
land, Jews were incapable of living off the land (i.e., farming) or
engaging in other forms of primary production. They were consequently
engaged in “parasitic” activities that exploited the true sons of the soil
and “sucked the blood” of the nation.
- The presence of Jews violated the
purity of the nation and the national homeland and was contrary to the
national spirit (Volksgeist). Moreover, their parasitic and
exploitative nature meant that the Jewish presence was worse than just an
impurity - it was a dangerous contamination. To borrow a modern metaphor,
the Jews were portrayed as destructive invasive species wreaking havoc in
the pristine ecosystem of the national homeland. This unnatural existence
had taken a toll on the Jews as well, and they had developed grotesque
physical deformities accompanied by equally bad, if not worse, moral
deformities, rendering them devoid of such heroic qualities as martial
courage and valor.
Living in the
midst of growing ethnic nationalism and rising anti-Semitism, and perhaps
convinced that ethnic nationalism was the wave of the future, Jews in Europe
were forced to formulate a response to this phenomenon - a response that took
the form of Zionism. According to Zionism,
- Jews were not just a religious group
bound by shared rituals, prayers and religious beliefs, but a distinct racial
or ethnic group tied together by blood.
- Jews could never hope to establish
authentic “blood-and-soil” links to any national homeland in Europe, but
there was the ancient Jewish homeland - Eretz Israel (the land of Israel) - to which the Jewish people
were linked by primordial and eternal “blood-and-soil” connections. Though
weakened over the nearly two-thousand years of exile, the link between Eretz Israel and the Jewish people
had never been completely severed, and the time had come to fully restore,
renew and refresh this link.
- While Jews could never hope to
become part of the European nations, they constituted a separate nation of
their own. However, this Jewish nation did not yet meet all the conditions
of nationhood as per the accepted norms and practices of European ethnic
nationalism. Jews must therefore embark on an ambitious nation-building
project to fulfill the conditions of nationhood and secure the future for
the Jewish people. As part of this project Jews must establish for
themselves a national language (modern Hebrew), suitable national heroes
(the Maccabees, Bar Kokhba, etc.), a distinct national spirit (a Jewish Volksgeist),
a nationalist narrative (an example is Heinrich Graetz’s Geschichte der
Juden or History of the Jews), national symbols, and so on.
Above all, this meant establishing a Jewish national homeland in Eretz Israel - the only land to
which the Jewish people were thought to be linked by ties of
“blood-and-soil”.
- Jews must shed the unnatural
“parasitic” nature of Jewish life in the diaspora. They must stop
exploiting non-Jews. Instead they must establish (or re-establish) Jewish
farming communities in Eretz Israel
(eventually to take the form of kibbutzim and moshavim)
where Jews would learn to live off the land and engage in manual labor.
- By ending their unnatural and parasitic
diaspora existence, returning to their national homeland, and fulfilling
all the other conditions of nationhood, the “New Jew” would emerge. The
New Jew would be true to the Jewish national spirit: impressive in
appearance and physique, and imbued with heroic qualities like martial
courage and valor. Eretz Israel,
which had been turned into a wasteland during the long Jewish exile, would
also be transformed. The New Jews would “make the desert bloom”.
What is
important to note here is that Zionism arose as a response to European ethnic
nationalism and its critique of the Jews. In formulating this response,
mainstream Zionists did not question the core value system of ethnic
nationalism, such as the racial or ethnic basis of nations, the theories of
racial superiority and inferiority, the supreme importance of primordial
“blood-and-soil” links to a national homeland, or the glorification of warriors
and farmers. Instead, most Zionists (though there were some exceptions) sought
to carve out a respectable niche for Jews within the parameters and the value
system of European ethnic nationalism – they sought to build an ethnically
defined Jewish nation that would become a respected member of the family of
nations. To a very substantial extent, therefore, Zionists accepted and even
internalized the core values and assumptions of European ethnic nationalism and
viewed it as the only viable mechanism for securing the Jewish future. As
philosopher Hanna Arendt put it, “the Zionists, in a sense, were the only ones
who sincerely wanted assimilation, namely ‘normalization’ of the people (‘to be
a people like all other peoples’).”5
Zeev Jabotinsky,
a leading Zionist and a source of inspiration for today’s right wing Israeli ideologues,
described his ideal “nation” in the following terms,
Let us draw for ourselves the ideal type of an “absolute nation”. It
would have to possess a racial appearance of marked unique character, an
appearance different from the racial nature of that nation’s neighbors. It
would have to occupy from times immemorial a continuously and clearly defined
piece of land; it would be highly desirable if in that area there would be no
alien minorities, who would weaken national unity. It would have to maintain an
original national language, which is not derived from any other nation...6
Above all,
Jabotinsky, like many other European ethnic nationalists, stressed the supreme
importance of racial identity for a nation,
You are forced to say: territory, religion, a common language – all
these are not the substance of a nation, but only its attributes; true these
attributes are immensely valuable, and they are even more valuable for the
stability of national existence. But a nation’s substance, the alpha and omega
of the uniqueness of its character – this is embodied in its specific physical
quality, in the component of its racial composition.6
Far from
denouncing the notion of racially pure nations, which was responsible, in part,
for the vicious anti-Semitism of the era, Jabotinsky whole-heartedly embraced
racism, and wanted the Zionists to emulate the racism of Europe,
albeit with a unique Jewish flavor.
What is rather
astonishing from our perspective today is that Zionists even viewed Jews
through the lens of the European ethnic nationalism in much the same way that
anti-Semites did. The Nazis, for instance, portrayed Jews as cowardly,
ugly-looking, bow-legged parasites living in filthy ghettos. And the Zionists
viewed many European Jews as cowardly, ugly-looking, bow-legged parasites
living in filthy ghettos. In effect, the Nazis and the Zionists largely agreed
on the diagnosis of the “Jewish Problem”. Where they disagreed was the cure.
While the Nazis felt that the cure for the “Jewish Problem” was the “Final
Solution” - the complete extermination of the Jews, the Zionists believed that
the solution lay in transferring the Jewish population to Eretz Israel and transforming the parasitic diaspora Jew into the
New Jew.
In his book Israel
is Real, Rich Cohen describes the Zionist transformation of the old
diaspora Jew into the New Jew,
They changed their names - shed the steins and bergs of Europe, which were exile names, slave names, and took
Hebrew names that suggested power, nature, or the land itself. The most popular
included Peled (steel), Tzur (rock), Avni (another kind of rock), and Allon
(oak), as in, This New Jew is as solid as an oak! … The New Jew would
behave less like his grandfather the ghetto Jew, than like his ancestor the
Zealot … Some spoke of retiring the word Jew altogether. A Jew is in the
Diaspora. A Jew is cowering and weak. “We are not Jews,” said Shimon Peres. “We
are Israelis.”7
In emulating the
value system of European ethnic nationalism, Zionists placed great emphasis on
the physical appearance and external characteristics of the New Jew. The Nazi ideal
was a strong, blond, blue-eyed, Aryan man, dashing, courageous and confident, a
man of action rather than contemplation, ideally brought up on a farm, with deep
“blood-and-soil” links to his Heimat
(homeland). The Zionist ideal of the New Jew was a strong, sun-tanned, Sabra (native born) Jew, dashing,
courageous and confident, a man of action rather than contemplation, ideally
brought up on a farm, with deep “blood-and-soil” links to Eretz Israel.
Another value
that the Zionists shared with other European ethnic nationalists was militarism
and military glory. Many Zionist groups and institutions were given names
evocative of the Maccabees or Bar Kokhba, Jewish warriors noted for their
courage and valor. In contrast, very few Zionist institutions were named after
more peaceful figures from Jewish history, such as Rabbi Hillel or Maimonides.
Zionism in Palestine
A small number
of Jews had always lived in the Holy Land, even after Jews were expelled from Judea by the Romans. Jerusalem has had a continuous Jewish
presence since at least 638AD, when it came under the rule of Caliph Umar bin Khattab,
and Arabs and Jews have coexisted there for centuries. However, by the 1930s,
there had arisen such intense and all-pervasive animosity between the Arabs and
the Zionists that coexistence became nearly impossible. This animosity seems to
have been caused by certain Zionist actions and attitudes, which were
determined by the logic of Zionism, which, in turn derived, in large part, from
the influence of European ethnic nationalism.
During the
Second Aliyah (1904-1914), the
Zionists adopted the slogan Kibbush Ha’avoda
meaning “Conquest of Labor”. The aim was to “return” Jews to manual and
agricultural labor, which was seen as morally superior to the trades and
professions that they had adopted in the depravity of exile. Another closely
related slogan was Avoda Ivrit
(“Hebrew Labor”) which effectively meant replacing Arab workers with Jewish
ones in Jewish owned farms and factories in Palestine.
The need for
Jews to “return” to agricultural labor was driven by the prevailing
nationalistic viewpoint that only those who farm the land with their own hands
can possess true “blood-and-soil” links to the land. European anti-Semites had claimed
that since Jews did not farm the land they could not possibly have any
“blood-and-soil” links to the land and therefore could not become part of the
European nations. Taking this critique to heart, Zionists insisted that in Eretz Israel, Jews must work the land
with their own hands. According to Ben Gurion,
We do not want to create a situation like that which exists in South Africa,
where the whites are the owners and rulers, and the blacks are the workers. If
we do not do all kinds of work, easy and hard, skilled and unskilled, if we
become merely landlords, then this will not be our homeland.8
Zionists were
insistent that in Eretz Israel Jews must
not exploit Arabs. This notion too had its roots in European anti-Semitism.
European anti-Semites had characterized Jews as “parasites” who became wealthy
by exploiting non-Jews. Zionists largely agreed with this characterization, and
insisted that in Eretz Israel Jews must
cleanse themselves of their “parasitic” nature. What is important to note here
is that for the Zionists, avoiding the exploitation of Arabs did not mean
dealing with them on the basis of equality and mutual respect. Instead, it
meant reducing economic interactions between Jews and Arabs to a bare minimum,
resulting in a policy that kept the Jewish economy in Palestine almost completely segregated from
the Arab economy. Some Palestinian Arabs did benefit from the trickle-down
effects of the massive capital infusion brought about by the Zionists. However,
the Arab share of the new economy was miniscule, thereby creating a sense of resentment.
More importantly perhaps, this meant that the kind of communications and civic
relations that tend to develop through mundane economic interactions never
developed in Palestine.
For example, the kind of relationships and understanding that may have
developed from a Jew running a bakery with an Arab partner, or from Jews
working side-by-side with Arabs in a factory, or from a Jewish grocer dealing
with Arab suppliers, etc., never had any real chance of developing in Palestine.
Referring to
Arabic as “the language of the land” in a 1913 article, Nissim Malul, a Jew
born in Tunisia and educated in Egypt, exhorted Jews in Palestine to embrace the
Arabic language,
“If we desire to root ourselves here in the mode of the land of the past
and of the future, then we must learn the language of the land and think in it
more compared to other languages”.9
Malul’s article was
part of a debate over language among Jewish settlers in Palestine. This debate was eventually settled
decisively in favor of Modern Hebrew largely because of the logic of ethnic
nationalism. Just as the German language was a vehicle and a symbol of German
nationalism, and the Russian language of Russian nationalism, Zionists wanted Modern
Hebrew to serve the cause of Jewish ethnic nationalism.
It is
interesting to note however that the dominance of Modern Hebrew was not always
considered inevitable. Hebrew, as a language of day-to-day communication had
not been an important part of Jewish life for ages. One has to go all the way back
to the First Temple period (ending 586 BC) to find a
time when Hebrew was the predominant language of day-to-day communication for
Jews. Consequently, there was a vigorous debate over which language (or
languages) Jews in Palestine
should learn and use. Some, like Malul, who came from within the Arabic
cultural milieu, argued in favor of Arabic. Malul’s advocacy of Arabic was not
just limited to language, however. It was part of a broader vision of Jewish
society in Palestine
that was very different from that of the European Zionist establishment.
According to historian Abigail Jacobson,
Moyal, Malul, and other members of their Sephardi milieu ... were
enthusiastic Zionists, though they also criticized the Zionist movement led, at
the time, mainly by Ashkenazi foreign subjects (Ben-Gurion, Sharrett, Ruppin).
Their view of Zionism departed considerably from that of the ‘second aliya’ Zionists and can better be termed
‘inclusive’ Zionism, one which was attuned to local conditions in Palestine,
the existence of two peoples in the country and the need to live together in
one locale. It was a more peaceful and realistic approach than put forward by
the ‘second aliya’ Zionism (which I
term ‘exclusive Zionism’), and considered the situation in Palestine in terms of future relations
between different inhabitants of the country... What stands out in much of
their literature and intellectual activity in Palestine was a belief that close ties must
be developed between Jews and Arabs (especially Muslims) in the country, that
Jews who did not know Arabic must be exposed to Arabs and their culture.10
The decisive
victory of Hebrew in the language debate symbolized not just a rejection of the
Arabic language, but the growing tendency among Zionists to view Arab society as
wretched and inferior, unworthy of serious engagement by the Jews. One
long-term consequence of the Zionist decision to stay completely separate from
the Arab social, cultural and civilizational milieu has been Israel’s inability
to wield any real soft-power in the region. To this day, Israel's
ability influence Arab public opinion through movies, literature, music,
cultural exchanges, and so on, remains minimal. In effect, the Merkava tank and
the F-15 strike fighter are the only tools that Israel wields today in its attempts
to influence Arab public opinion.
According to the
Zionist narrative, which was modeled on the ethnic nationalist narratives of
late 19th century Europe, the history of the Holy
Land began with Abraham at the dawn of the Biblical Age and reached
the heights of its glory under the rule of King David and King Solomon, and
under the militaristic Maccabees. This land went through a cataclysm in the first
and second centuries AD, with the Jews rising in defiant revolt against the
Roman rulers, the Romans conquering Jerusalem
and destroying the Second
Temple, and the Jews
rising in revolt once again under the leadership of Simon Bar Kokhba. The
tragic defeat of this last revolt resulted in Jews having to flee Judea and go into exile. After the Bar Kokhba revolt, the
history of the Holy Land went through a long
two-thousand year hiatus, which finally ended when the Zionists arrived in the
late 19th century seeking redemption of the land as well as the Jewish
people. In the intervening two thousand years between the Bar Kokhba revolt and
the arrival of the Zionists, nothing much of value happened in the Holy Land. The people who occupied the land in these
intervening centuries did not possess any “blood-and-soil” links to the land
and did not nurture it lovingly, thereby turning it into a wasteland, a desert.
Only the return of the Jews would restore the “blood-and-soil” links between
the land and the Jewish people, thereby rescuing the land from its misery and
“making the desert bloom”. It was therefore incumbent on the Zionist settlers
to cleanse the land of the detritus of history that had accumulated over the
previous two thousand years and nurture the land to its former and rightful
glory. To the extent possible, this meant wiping the land clean of its Arabs
inhabitants and its Arab heritage.
One example of the
Zionists’ systematic efforts to cleanse Palestine
of its Arab heritage is described by Meron Benvenisti, a former Deputy Mayor of
Jerusalem whose
father was a Zionist cartographer and map-maker. Benvenisti writes about how
Israeli government agencies worked to replace Arabic place names, including
names of “mountains, valleys, springs, roads, and so on”, with Hebrew names. Some
of these Hebrew names were thought to be biblical names for those places, while
others were brand new Hebrew names that merely sounded biblical. Benvenisti
quotes a letter that Israeli Prime Minister David Ben Gurion wrote to the Committee
for the Designation of Place-Names in the Negev Region (also known as the Negev
Names Committee, or NNC), in 1949,
We are obliged to remove the Arabic names for reasons of state. Just as
we do not recognize the Arabs’ political proprietorship of the land, so also do
we not recognize their spiritual proprietorship and their names.11
Another example
of systematic purging of Palestine’s
Arab heritage was the widespread destruction of Arab mosques and (to a lesser
extent) churches after 1948. Several Muslim sacred sites were even converted into
Jewish sacred sites. Here’s how Benvenisti describes these conversions,
There was nothing novel about the victorious Jews’ takeover of sites
sacred to the Muslims, save for the fact that it was something that might have
been plucked from another era: not since the end of the Middle Ages had the
civilized world witnessed the wholesale appropriation of the sacred sites of a
defeated religious community by members of the victorious one. It is true that
places of worship in many countries have been vandalized – even recently – from
the bombing of mosques in Sarajevo
in the 1990s and the blowing up of churches by the Bolsheviks following the
October Revolution, down to the plundering of churches and monasteries during
the French Revolution. But to find the parallel of the reconsecration of places
of worship by a conqueror, one must go back to Spain
or the Byzantine Empire in the middle to late
fifteenth century.12
One prominent component
of the Zionist narrative is the notion that the return of the Jews to Eretz Israel would “make the desert
bloom”. Indeed the Zionists did bring about a dramatic transformation in the
landscape of the Holy Land. However, this was
accompanied by widespread destruction – the deliberate obliteration of Arab
towns, villages, orchards and olive groves. According to Benvenisti,
The demolition of Arab villages was, of course, a major component of the
destruction of the old landscape, but the destruction of Arab agriculture –
orchards, citrus and olive groves, terraces – had an even more devastating
effect. Arab citrus groves, olive trees, and other fruit orchards covered an
area of almost 1 million dunams (250,000 acres). Most of the abandoned trees
were neglected or destroyed outright as the Israelis destroyed whatever the
Arabs had left that could not be integrated into their framework. Most citrus
groves were uprooted to make room for housing developments, ancient olive trees
were left uncared for or destroyed to make room for field crops. This does not
fit Israel's
self-image as a people that “makes the desert bloom”. 13
Viewing the
world through the lens of ethnic nationalism, Zionists tend to question whether
the Palestinians constitute a nation (or “a people”). Whatever the merits of
this debate, it entirely bypasses the undisputable fact that whether or not the
Palestinians satisfy all the benchmarks of nationhood established by the doctrine
of ethnic nationalism, there has long existed in the land of Palestine
an entire social civilizational world made up of actual human beings. A world that
is whole in itself, with a rich history stretching back more than a thousand
years. With a complex and composite society of Muslims, Christians and even a
small proportion of Jews. A living society that in its own ways is creative and
dynamic, with its own worldview and own internal logic, though not without its
problems or its internal schisms.
Unsaid, but implied
in the Zionist arguments regarding the Palestinian nation is the notion that
only members of nations deserve to be treated as human beings and that human
rights and dignities are not intrinsic to a human being but derive from one’s
membership of a nation.
A Refuge for
Persecuted Jews?
The primary aim
of Zionism, it is widely believed today, was to establish a refuge for persecuted
Jews. If this is true, however, an obvious question arises: how did Zionism
fail so miserably? For surely, the Holocaust stands as evidence of its utter
failure.
Well, some may
say, Zionism emerged too late. The movement simply did not have the time or the
opportunity to set up a refuge for Jews before it was too late. This argument
does not, however, hold up to the historical evidence. The First Zionist
Congress, organized under the leadership of Theodor Herzl, took place in 1897, some
three and a half decades before the Nazis seized power in Germany. To put
this in historical perspective, it is worth remembering that the Zionist
movement emerged before either the Bolshevik movement in Russia or the Young Turks movement in Turkey, and almost a quarter century before the
establishment of the Nazi Party in Germany. More importantly, over the
years various proposals for a Jewish refuge (in Uganda, Madagascar, Argentina, etc.)
were made but were deliberately ignored or rejected by the Zionists because they
did not conform to the ethnic nationalistic vision of a Jewish national home, but
which, if acted upon could have provided an alternative to the gas chambers for
many European Jews in the 1930s and 40s.
Even in Palestine itself, it
seems that for the Zionists other priorities took precedence, even when the
need for a refuge was most urgent. It appears that for the Zionists, saving the
old diaspora Jew was never as important as creating the New Jew, and setting up
a refuge for persecuted diaspora Jews was never as important as setting up a
new Jewish nation boasting of all the nationalistic bells and whistles deemed
necessary by the norms of European ethnic nationalism.
In the 1930s and
1940s, the Jewish Agency, an arm of the Zionist movement, was given the power
to issue immigration certificates, subject to a quota set by the British
authorities in Palestine.
It appears that in handing out these immigration certificates, the primary
criterion used by the Jewish Agency was not who faced the greatest danger of
persecution, but rather, who could better satisfy Zionist needs in Palestine. According to
Israeli historian Tom Segev, Jews “returning to the land would give birth to
the ‘new man’ [the Zionists] hoped to create in Palestine”, and in parceling out the
immigration certificates, they therefore “preferred healthy young Zionists,
ideally with agricultural training or at least a willingness to work on the
land”. A Jewish Agency executive considered those receiving immigration
certificates “merely as refugees” to be “undesirable human material”. And a
decision was made in 1935 - two years after Hitler had come to power in Germany - that
“anyone who was a merchant or of similar employment, will not receive a
certificate under any circumstances, except in the case of veteran Zionists”. 14
Perhaps the last
chance that the Zionists had of establishing a refuge for Jews and avoiding the
worst horrors of the Holocaust was the 1937 Peel Commission plan, which proposed
a two state solution with Palestine
being partitioned into a Jewish state and an Arab state. The proposal was
rejected by both sides. Twenty years later, David Ben Gurion would write “had [the
Peel Commission plan] been carried out, the history of our people would have
been different and six million Jews in Europe would not have been killed - most
of them would be in Israel”15.
It could be argued that the Arabs, by their rejection of the plan, were at least
as guilty as the Zionists of sealing the fate of millions of European Jews.
However, the greater part of the blame must surely fall on the Zionists, who,
by their utter disregard and blatant disdain for the Arab people and their
heritage, had all but ensured that the Arabs would resist increased Jewish
immigration to Palestine
when the need was greatest.
Today, one of
the main arguments used to justify Israel’s occupation of Palestine is that an
ethnically and culturally defined Jewish State, guaranteed by a permanent Jewish
ethnic majority, as envisaged by the Zionists, is essential in order to serve
as a refuge for Jews, in case the horrors of Nazi-style anti-Semitism befall us
once again. But, setting aside the question of whether or not it is ethical to
subject the Palestinians to a harsh occupation in order to cater to the
possible future needs of Jews, it is not at all clear that a Zionist Israel is
the best answer, should a refuge for Jews ever become necessary in the future.
For it is difficult to escape the conclusion that if a refuge for persecuted
Jews is what is desired then Israel in its present Zionist form is neither
necessary (because a refuge does not have to be an ethnically defined Jewish
State located in the Holy Land) nor sufficient (because history has shown that
Zionism failed to establish a refuge for persecuted Jews when the need was most
urgent and the opportunity to do so still existed).
Judaism and
Zionism
It is the year
70 AD. Jerusalem
has fallen to the Romans. The Second Temple is destroyed, the city is sacked, and Jews are
forced to flee Judea. At this point, one might
have expected the Jews to disappear from history, with individual Jews either
dead, or dispersed and absorbed into other communities, as has happened to so
many other communities before or since: the Assyrians, the Babylonians, the
Sumerians, and so on.
But the Jews do
not disappear from history. Following the destruction of the Second Temple,
Jewish rabbis, let by Rabbi Johannan Ben Zakkai set up a center for Jewish
scholarship at Jabne, where they transform Judaism from a religion centered
around sacrifices and Temple rituals into one
that would make do without the Temple.
In so doing the Rabbis do not seek to relocate or replicate the Jerusalem Temple rituals in a temple (or temples)
elsewhere, but fundamentally transform Judaism into a diasporic religion, known
today as Rabbinic Judaism. Jerusalem is
transformed from a city of bricks and mortar at the center of Temple Judaism
into a spiritual symbol at the center of Rabbinic Judaism.
For nearly two
thousand years following the destruction of the Second Temple,
Rabbinic Judaism provided the framework on which Jews built their lives.
Rabbinic Judaism was certainly not perfect, but it had its share of remarkable
achievements. Rabbinic Judaism instilled in Jews an accomodative attitude that
enabled them to become part of many different cultures and societies, and make
important contributions to these societies, while still retaining a unique
Jewish identity. It helped to promote a remarkable Jewish intellectual
tradition that would give the world the likes of Maimonides, Spinoza and
Einstein. It also helped to inculcate a strong culture of philanthropy among
Jews that reached out to Jews as well as non-Jews. And it achieved all these
largely without resorting to violence or coercion. On the whole, Rabbinic
Judaism successfully provided Jewish communities with the tools needed to
sustain themselves over many long and at times difficult centuries, sometimes
barely surviving, but under favorable conditions (e.g., in Islamic Spain, or in
modern America), flourishing and prospering, and in turn, greatly enriching the
societies they were part of. Rabbinic Judaism viewed Jewish life after the fall
of the Second Temple as a life of exile, and the notion
of “exile” may justifiably be seen as carrying a certain negative connotation.
However, in Rabbinic Judaism this Jewish exile was imbued with sacredness and
the belief that this exile was part of God’s plan for mankind, and therefore
must be for the good. Thus, if the centuries following the destruction of the
Second Temple were centuries of exile for the Jews, it was an exile that was
infused with meaning (“it was God’s plan”) and one that was witness to a
remarkable flowering of Jewish creativity and ingenuity, representing a rich
contribution to our human civilization.
Zionism took a
very different view of the Jewish exile. It saw the exile in almost entirely
negative terms. In the Zionist view, the Jewish exile was a miserable, shameful
and humiliating experience that was bad for Jews and bad for non-Jews. In their
view, the exile was so terrible that it had caused Jews to become cowering and
weak, had eroded their moral fiber, and reduced them to a “parasitic”
existence, thereby arousing ill-will and hatred in their host nations and
giving rise to the “Jewish Problem”. It is difficult for us from today’s
perspective to understand why the Zionists should have viewed diaspora Jews
with such intense self-hatred, but perhaps anti-Semitism was so pervasive in Central
and Eastern Europe in the late 19th and early 20th centuries that just being
part of these societies caused the Zionists to imbibe and internalize the
prevailing negative images of diaspora Jews. The root cause of the “Jewish
Problem”, as the Zionists saw it, was the Jewish exile. If only the exile could
be reversed, Jews would be transformed from cowering and weak parasites into courageous,
valorous, self-reliant and proud warriors and farmers, thereby solving the “Jewish
Problem”, earning the respect of other nations, and ultimately putting an end
to anti-Semitism.
Since the
Zionists viewed nearly everything connected with the Jewish exile in negative
terms, Rabbinic Judaism, which had served as the mainstay of the Jewish exile,
tended to be viewed negatively by the Zionists. Rabbinic Judaism, in turn, tended
to view Zionists with suspicion, not only because the Zionists looked down on
Rabbinic Judaism, but also because the Zionist effort to forcibly reverse the
Jewish exile was seen as a violation of God’s plan. However, in spite of going
against some of the basic tenets of Rabbinic Judaism, Zionism developed a
growing following among Jews in the first half of the twentieth century. What
explains this growing popularity of Zionism? Perhaps this arose from one great
failure of Rabbinic Judaism: its complete inability to come up with any sort of
response to the new racist anti-Semitism that had come to dominate Europe around this time. Perhaps Zionism became popular
amongst Jews because it was formulated specifically in response to the racist
anti-Semitism of the times and it promised a solution for anti-Semitism. We
know today, in the aftermath of the Holocaust, and with the benefit of
hindsight, that Zionism had no solution to anti-Semitism either. But faced with
a desperate situation, besieged by a virulent anti-Semitism, with their very
lives in danger, it appears that Jews were willing to give Zionism a try.
The increasing
popularity of Zionism among Jews, forced the Rabbinic establishment to take
Zionism seriously. In the years following the First World War, Rabbi Abraham
Kook, the first Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi of British Mandate Palestine, came up
with a formulation that would reconcile Rabbinic Judaism with Zionism and give
rise to what we know today as religious Zionism. Later, the power and trappings
of the state of Israel and Israeli military victories, particularly in the Six
Day War, would be seen by many Jews as a sort of divine vindication of Zionism,
and would convince most (though not all) of the Rabbinic establishment to
follow in the footsteps of Rabbi Kook and reach some sort of accommodation with
Zionism.
According to the
political scientist Shlomo Avineri,
The [Zionist] pioneers coming to Palestine,
Rabbi Kook maintains, are indeed highly hostile to the Jewish religious
tradition and are motivated, according to their own understanding, by secular
considerations which are basically alien to the religious structures of
Judaism. The legitimacy given by them to their actions is similarly not related
to religious sources, but draws its inspiration from non-Jewish European
revolutionary ideas such as nationalism and socialism. Yet, Rabbi Kook argues,
this subjective understanding of their own motives is only one side of the
picture... [Zionists] may subjectively think they are motivated by
secular, political ideas, but truly they are acting within a cosmic scheme of a
divine will, in which their seemingly secular and even atheistic motivation is
nothing more than an external cover for the true meaning of their actions as
related to God’s redemptive structure.... In this way, the resettlement of the Land of Israel, even by blasphemous atheists, is
a step on the road to salvation.16
In other words,
according to Rabbi Kook, the Zionists, while openly hostile to Rabbinic
Judaism, were unintentionally and unknowingly carrying out God’s plan, and
therefore deserved the support of the Rabbinic establishment.
One might well
ask, what then was the difference between the Zionists – the “good sinners”17
as Rabbi Kook called them – and the bad sinners – the Muslim and Christian
Arabs and even some Jews – who opposed the Zionists? In the religious Zionist
formulation, a new value was to be the ultimate differentiator between good and
evil, a value that superseded Judaism’s traditional ethical framework for virtue
and sin. This ultimate value, which, according to religious Zionism, superseded
all the other ethical values of Judaism, was the “return” of ethnic Jews to Eretz Israel (“Aliyah”) with the aim of establishing ethnic Jewish demographic
dominance and Jewish political, military and cultural hegemony in as much of the
Holy Land as possible (but not, it may be noted, the religious hegemony
of religious Jews).
In essence, the
result of Rabbi Kook’s grand reconciliation was that Zionism received divine
sanction, which it had previously lacked, and Zionist values came to supersede
the traditional values of Rabbinic Judaism. Thus the form and rituals of
Rabbinic Judaism were not abandoned but came to be subordinated to the Zionist goal
of achieving an ethnically and culturally defined Jewish State in Eretz Israel. This had many implications
for Judaism and for Jews everywhere. One implication of this was that even
though Rabbinic Judaism had been intensely non-violent for nearly two thousand
years, religious Zionism would acquiesce to, if not fully embrace, the aggressive
militarism of Zionism, which, in turn was modeled on the aggressive militarism
of European ethnic nationalism.
Something
analogous to the grand reconciliation between Rabbinic Judaism and Zionism
happened among the wider Jewish public as well, particularly in the wake of the
Six Day Way. Today, for many Jews, Zionism has superseded Judaism as the
primary locus of their Jewish identity. Thus, even relatively gentle criticism
of Israel
immediately provokes cries of “anti-Semitism” from many Jews. In contrast,
criticism of the rules of Kashrut or the rituals of Shabbat (Sabbath) usually do not provoke any similar accusations,
even though these have been very important to Judaism for thousands of years.
It is thus evident that for many Jews today, criticism of Zionism, much more
then criticism of Judaism, is seen as an attack on their Jewish identity,
implying that for them, Zionism has superseded Judaism in their conception of
their Jewish identity. (It should be noted however, that comparing a reasoned
critique of either Zionism or Judaism to the racist anti-Semitism of the first
half of the twentieth century is absurd and such casual comparisons risks
glossing over the severity and viciousness of racist anti-Semitism.)
Can There be
Peace?
It is obvious
that conflict over territory is at the center of the Israeli-Palestinian
dispute. The intense Palestinian antagonism towards Israel is not just over territory,
however. It also has much to do with the fact that largely due to the
historical forces that shaped it, the core values of Zionism are fundamentally
incompatible with a sense of respect for the Palestinian people and their heritage.
Zionism, in its present and historical form, has failed to treat the
Palestinians with a sense of dignity and respect, not just at the level of
individual human rights, but also at the level of Palestinian society as a
whole. Palestinians view Zionists not only as usurpers who have stolen their
ancestral lands, but whose actions and attitudes constitute an affront to their
civilizational honor and who seek to belittle and humiliate them at every
opportunity. This makes it almost impossible for the Palestinians to reach a
genuine heartfelt compromise with Zionism while still retaining a modicum of
self-respect and dignity. At its core, the Palestinian resistance is not just a
struggle for territory and for individual human rights, but a quest for
collective dignity – a quest to refute the Zionist narrative that Arab Muslims
and Christians in Palestine are non-entities,
irrelevant to the history and heritage of the Holy Land.
If Israelis ever
wish to live in peace with their Arab neighbors they will need to not only
accept a territorial compromise but also transform some of the core values of
Zionism so as to inculcate a sense of respect and appreciation towards their
Arab neighbors and their culture, history and heritage. Without this, a
territorial agreement, even if achieved, may not result in lasting peace.
Is such a
transformation possible?
The good news is
that the larger historical forces that shaped Zionism have now turned in a
different direction, and these changed historical forces may well make such a
historic transformation not only possible but even inevitable. When Jewish
leaders and intellectuals in Europe formulated
Zionism, they did so in the face of vicious racist anti-Semitism and in the
midst of widespread - and still growing - ethnic nationalism. They had every
reason to believe that this represented the wave of the future and hence quite
consciously cast Zionism in the mold of European ethnic nationalism. However,
after having reached its zenith in Nazi Germany, ethnic nationalism has been on
the decline, particularly since the 1960s and 1970s. In today’s world the broad
trend is away from ethnic nationalism and towards multicultural, multiethnic
and multiracial societies that value ethnic diversity over racial purity,
respect the culture and heritage of multifarious groups and communities, and do
not place too much importance on standardized nationalist narratives. Judged by
these new civilizational norms, much of what was logical under the Zionist
paradigm does not make sense any more. For someone who has grown up in a
multi-cultural society that values diversity in race and ethnicity, it is
mind-boggling that a Palestinian Arab person is not allowed to set foot in his
ancestral village, which his grandparents were pressurized to abandon by force
or fear, and someone from Russia is invited to settle there – all because the
person from Russia is deemed to be of sufficiently pure Jewish blood. What is
beyond mind-boggling is that the Israeli legal mechanism that makes this
possible is called the “Law of Return”. For people who came of age during the
heyday of ethnic nationalism and imbibed some of the common racial attitudes of
those days, something like Israel's
“Law of Return” may make perfect sense, but for today’s emerging post-racial
generation, it makes no sense whatsoever. The very notion that one’s ethnic
purity should be the primary determinant of one’s legal, political and cultural
rights is anathema in our post-racial, multi-ethnic, multi-cultural
civilization.
Abandoning some
of the core values of Zionism may not be easy for Israelis, particularly
because Zionism has become such an important part of Jewish identity worldwide,
but Israelis are an enterprising people, blessed with abundant talent,
creativity and energy, and if they set their minds to it, there is little they
cannot achieve. Here are two examples of concrete actions that Israel could undertake
to distance itself from some of the most problematic values of Zionism. Such
actions might not mean much by themselves but if they are part of a broader
change in attitude, they may make a real difference.
- In instances where Israelis
deliberately replaced Arabic place names with Hebrew ones, they could
revert to the pre-1948 Arabic place names. Initially this could be done for
uninhabited geographical features such as hills, streams, etc., and could
then be extended to populated areas. Such a change would constitute an
Israeli acknowledgement of the Arab history and heritage of the land.
- Many Arab refugees of the 1948 war
ended up in refugee camps in the West Bank, Gaza
and elsewhere outside the “Green Line”, which became Israel’s
international border. Many refugees, however, remained within the Green
Line. According to a United Nations agency, approximately one-third of the
Arabs who remained within the Green Line and became Israeli citizens in
1948 were refugees from villages that were also within the Green Line. In
the sixty-four years since 1948, these internal refugees, labeled “present
absentees” by Israeli officialdom, have not been allowed to return to
their homes and villages. Israel
could grant the right of return to the “present absentees”, thereby
recognizing in principle that Arabs have rights to the land that are no
less legitimate than the Jews’.
Actions such as
these would not require huge amounts of money or other resources. They would
not immediately alter the Israel’s
demographics (which Israelis appear to be fearful of), and do not even require
a “partner for peace”. All they need is a transformation in Israeli attitudes
towards Arabs.
Ultimately the
Israel’s ability or inability to achieve widespread legitimacy – and perhaps
even to survive – may depend less on how many Merkava tanks and F-15 strike
fighters it can amass or how many walls it can build, than on its willingness
to fundamentally transform some of the most problematic aspects of Zionism, so
as to enable Israelis to treat Palestinians – individually and collectively – with the same
respect and dignity they themselves expect from others.
References
1.
Morris, Benny (1999). Righteous Victims: A History of the Zionist-Arab Conflict, 1881-1999,
Alfred A. Knopf, New York,
p. 11.
3.
Dimont, Max
I. (1994). Jews, God and History (2nd
Edition), New American Library, New
York, p. 327.
4.
Avineri, Shlomo (1981). The Making of Modern Zionism, Basic Books, New York, p. 200.
5.
Zimmerman, Moshe (2001). “Hannah Arendt, the Early
“Post-Zionist””, in Aschheim, Steven E., ed., Hannah Arendt in Jerusalem, University of California Press,
Berkeley, p. 191.
6.
Avineri, Shlomo (1981). The Making of Modern Zionism, Basic Books, New York, p. 167.
7.
Cohen, Rich (2009). Israel Is Real (Kindle Edition). Farrar,
Straus and Giroux, New York, p. 243.
9.
Marcus, Amy Dockser (2007). Jerusalem 1913: The Origins of the Arab-Israeli
Conflict, Penguin, New York,
p. 118.
10. Jacobson,
Abigail (2011). “Jews Writing in Arabic: Shimon Moyal, Nissim Malul and the
Mixed Palestinian/Eretz Israeli Locale” in Ben-Bassat, Yuval and Ginio, Eyal,
eds., Late Ottoman Palestine:
The Period of Young Turk Rule, I.B.Tauris, London, pp. 177-178.
11. Meron
Benvenisti (2000). Sacred Landscape: The
Buried History of the Holy Land since
1948, University of California Press, Berkeley, p. 14.
12. Meron
Benvenisti (2000). Sacred Landscape: The
Buried History of the Holy Land since
1948, University of California Press, Berkeley, p. 273.
13. Meron
Benvenisti (2000). Sacred Landscape: The
Buried History of the Holy Land since
1948, University of California Press, Berkeley, p. 7.
14. Segev,
Tom (1991). The Seventh Million: The
Israelis and the Holocaust, Henry Holt, New York, pp. 42-44.
15. Segev,
Tom (1999). One Palestine,
Complete: Jews and Arabs Under the British Mandate, Henry Holt, New York, p. 414.
16. Avineri,
Shlomo (1981). The Making of Modern
Zionism, Basic Books, New York,
pp. 192-193.
17. Cohen,
Rich (2009). Israel Is Real (Kindle Edition). Farrar,
Straus and Giroux, New York, p. 274.