Why did the events in Gaza make me think of Alexander
Solzhenitsyn's 1970 Nobel Prize acceptance speech? I am uncomfortable with much
of its content and it doesn't seem that relevant at first. Actually, it was because of
two memorable quotations that he used. First:
One day Dostoevsky threw out the enigmatic remark: "Beauty will save the world". What sort of a statement is that? For a long time I considered it mere words. How could that be possible? When in bloodthirsty history did beauty ever save anyone from anything? Ennobled, uplifted, yes - but whom has it saved?
Beauty?
When I look at much of the commentary on Gaza that is flooding social media, I
see no beauty. There is a deep ugliness running through much of it.
The least
offensive are the endless posts - from both sides - that have a photograph of
dubious provenance with a slogan underneath saying that 'this really shows
whatever'. Then there are the three-minute YouTube videos that offer you 'the
essentials', 'the truth', 'the things THEY don't tell you', 'what you need to
know to understand' and so on. And the charts, graphics and maps all purporting
tell you something that will make you feel that you were right all along. I
want to write under every one, 'No it won't. This is selective, simplistic and
distorted. Please go away and read some books. And not ones selected solely
because they will confirm your pre-existing prejudices.'
But then
there is much worse. There are the 'solutions' being proffered, all horribly final, ranging from mass deportations to mass killings; the denials of the
other and of their humanity – 'beasts', 'animals', 'scum'. Or, simply, there
are the expressions of rage and hatred – no suggestions, no solutions, just anger.
Deeply, deeply, unpleasant - and touching something dark that has refused to go
away. It makes me very uneasy.
Some people
have shared some good thoughtful articles from both sides, and I am grateful to
them, but they have been swamped by a wave of unreflective hatred and attempts to shape the agenda with manipulative propaganda.
So once
again, I turn to not so much thinking about the conflict, but as to thinking about how we
think about it. Which brings me to Solzhenitsyn's second quotation.
From time immemorial man has been made in such a way that his vision of the world, so long as it has not been instilled under hypnosis, his motivations and scale of values, his actions and intentions are determined by his personal and group experience of life. As the Russian saying goes, "Do not believe your brother, believe your own crooked eye."
There are crooked eyes aplenty.
Israelis hiding in bomb shelters and Gazans under fire will
each have a different perspective, but they aren't the people I am writing
about. Their fear and heartbreak is beyond my understanding or ability to
verbalise. Nor can I write with any authority about policies or the wisdom, justice or otherwise of what is happening now. No, it is those campaigners and commentators, those demonstrators on
the streets of European cities that concern me. They are people who are only too keen to fight a cause rather than attempt to solve a problem.
The question that is frequently asked is, why does this
conflict alone send everybody crazy? Why, given the worse horrors going on in
the world today is it this that mobilises such passions? If what people care
about is the lives of Palestinians, shouldn't they have all been on the streets
protesting the tens of thousands of Palestinians who have been slaughtered by
Assad's forces in Syria and the slow starvation of eighteen thousand people in
Yarmouk? It is tempting to mutter that it is because it is Jews that are
fighting, but that is too simplistic. What follows is a very tentative
proposition, but one of the reasons why I feel that Israel/Palestine so
animates the European left, to the exclusion of much else, is that it is our
conflict.
By that, I mean that it is deeply tied up with our own
history, our own collective narratives and our own crooked eyes. It is our
religiosity, our nationalism, our liberation, our imperialism, our
anti-Semitism, our genocide, our guilt and our atonement that animates us. For
European onlookers, it is a European crisis being played out with other
people's lives in the Middle East.
And this is what Solzhenitsyn was critical of. We could no
longer rely on a localised crooked eye in a global world. He argued that we needed a holistic,
transcendent truth, something that he thought literature could provide. That is the beauty
that could save the world. I am more prosaic. I think that we need clear
thinking. And that too has its own beauty.
In the endless circular arguments I am struck by a basic
failing of historical analysis, one that I used to drum into my students, to
distinguish between structural, long-term causes and proximate causes. In
general, pro-Palestinians have stressed long-term causation at the expense of
the proximate, whilst pro-Israelis have done the opposite. This is not
surprising.
The long-term conflict has not gone away, nor has it been
resolved. The tensions raised from the early days of Zionist immigration in the
1880s remain. So do the multiple failures to create a Palestinian state, to
resolve the issue of the displacement of refugees, to deal with the questions
of occupation and settlement and of secure, mutually recognised
self-determination. This is the Palestinian case. The broad parameters of a
settlement are known; that they have not been implemented is a failure of
political leadership that has not been confined to only one side. (Of course,
partisans of both put that failure down to malign intent, but that is
another argument). However, is this the sole cause of the current violence? Is the war being fought in Gaza the result of the breakdown of the peace negotiations as I have heard suggested
by many?
No, the proximate cause is more uncomfortable for
pro-Palestinian activists, which is why they seldom mention it. It is the
decision by Hamas and its Islamist allies to launch military rocket attacks at
civilian centres of population in Israel. Does anyone seriously believe that
Israeli forces would be bombing and fighting in Gaza if this had not happened,
that it is just an expression of wanton belligerency? Are there any countries
that would not have responded in some way to such attacks? Demonstrators rarely
even acknowledge the role of Hamas, let alone condemn it along with Israel's
action.
Let's look at this more closely. Hamas' seizure of power in
Gaza and their consolidation of an authoritarian regime there certainly worried
Israel. Hamas is a branch of the Muslim Brotherhood, pledged to destroy Israel
and replace it with an Islamic state (solidarity with the 20% of Palestinians
who are Christians anyone?). Its founding Covenant opposes all peace deals, talks
of religious approval of killing Jews and also indulges in the poisonous idea
of a Jewish world conspiracy, claiming that Jews were behind both world wars
and organise themselves to rule the world through the Rotary Club! It is
far-right lunacy. But such madness is dangerous with power. And once they began
practicing what they preached through suicide bombing, Israel had three
options. The first, to ignore it and hope it would go away, is not to be
recommended. It doesn't and grows stronger. The second, to directly intervene
and effect regime change, would be bloody and fraught with danger. So they chose
the third option, containment - the strategy that underlay American policy in
the Cold War. Containment implies the threat of military action if it is to be
tested. Hamas tested it. Deliberately. They knew what the result would be. But
then they are wedded to a long-term strategy of attrition and to provoke the very polarisation that we see today.
The current crisis is horrible. Modern warfare is cruel. The proportion of civilian
casualties has been rising inexorably in all warfare. There is nothing
exceptional about the figures for Gaza. But each number is an individual
tragedy screaming out for our compassion. And that compassion lies behind much
of the antipathy to Israel, but not all. Though this compassion too has a
crooked eye, looking only one way.
Yet, there is something else missing, another
structural element to this conflict. This one is not ours though; it is the
crisis in the Arab world and its significance is not so instinctively grasped.
It has certainly touched us, as on 9/11 and 7/7. We can see
it on our streets through the shocking anti-Semitic rioting in France, but it
is not something that we fully comprehend. The Arab Spring collapsed the crumbling legitimacy of Arab regimes, but what was to replace them? The hoped-for
democratisation has only partially succeeded in displacing authoritarianism and even those small successes are not secure.
And all the time there was a totalitarian movement ready to challenge – the theocratic
revolutionary right. Hamas is part of that revolutionary movement.
What we have at the moment is not an Israel/Palestine
war, there are plenty of Palestinians who are not in the Islamist camp, we have
an Israel/Hamas war. So, by taking up its undifferentiated, partisan position,
the left have moved firmly behind the radical right. It posts pictures of a
'free Palestine' and we have no idea what they mean by 'free'. Unthinkingly, some
are buying into the vision that it means a Palestine free of Jews, ruled by
Hamas. It is a call for a war of annihilation.
It is easy to valorise Hamas as a resistance movement, but
to do that is to make a categorical error. We have to ask precisely who is resisting and what they stand for. Pol Pot headed a resistance movement after
all. Genocide followed. Hamas are lining themselves up to be the Palestinian
people's latest oppressors, not their liberators. Rather than being a symptom of the conflict, and they are part of an ideological, regional power struggle.
To support the Palestinians is not to support Hamas. It is
not to engage in ugly anti-Semitic abuse. It is not to raucously echo Islamist
sentiments. It is to ensure that those long-term issues remain on the agenda,
that a deal remains possible, to support both the Israeli and Palestinian
people, if necessary against Hamas, though not uncritically. And it is to continue the long
struggle for peace, the small-scale communal, trade union and cultural
collaborations, and to struggle for empathy - the understanding of the bitter experiences
of both people. It is to straighten our crooked eyes and see that peace is both
practical and, yes, beautiful.