This morning the Palestinians of Susiya returned to their original home, if only for a brief moment.
Khirbet Susiya is a village in the South Hebron Hills where until recently, Palestinians lived for at least a century. The people of Susiya originally lived in caves and maintained a simple agrarian life, cultivating fields and shepherding their flocks. Everything changed when Israel began to archaeologically excavate their land in the 1970s, eventually uncovering an ancient synagogue underneath a mosque on the land. In 1983 a new Jewish settlement, also called Susiya was established nearby. In 1986, Israel expelled Palestinian villagers and expropriated their land. They moved to an area close to the settlement of Susiya and the original site of the village; in 1991 they were expelled from this site as well. They eventually went to live elsewhere on their cultivated farmland, where they still live today.
The people of Susiya have been engaged in a constant fight to remain on their land where, like the Bedouin residents of Umm al-Kheir, they under the constant threat of demolition and expulsion. Their struggle has gained the attention of solidarity activists in Israel and around the world – and their cause has now even reached the EU and the US State Department.
This morning, our delegation went to Susiya to help them briefly return to the site of their original homes. It is now located in an archaeological park; as is the case in so many other sites around the country Israel uses archaeology to lay claim to the land – and highlight its Jewish history in a manner that erases the memory of any people who might have lived there before.
Today’s action was undertaken by the Center for Jewish Nonviolence along with the Israeli anti-occupation collective, All That’s Left. The plan was fairly simple. We met the villagers in Susiya and walked down the road to the entrance of the archaeological park. We then bought tickets for Jews and Palestinians alike and just entered the site.
At least three generations were represented, including adults and elders who remembered their life before the expulsion as well as children who were seeing their families’ original home for the very first time. The children ran ahead immediately, peering down into wells, running up and down the stairs of the ruins. It’s hard to describe the emotions we felt as we watched parents and grandparents showing their children their place where they played as when they were young.
We gathered at the site of the synagogue and heard from village leaders who told us stories about their life in their village before the expulsion. In the picture above you can see Nasser Nawaja (in the blue shirt) and his father and mother speaking to our group, with CJNV leader Isaac Kates Rose interpreting their words for us. We also heard from Fatma Nawaja, who related to us in depth her memories of when Israeli archaeologists first came to their village. At first their relations were quite friendly she said, and they would often offer the workers food and drink. They had no idea, said Fatma, that this project would one day cause them to be expelled them from their homes.
She also told us about the village midwife Haji Sara, who delivered many of the young people who were present at our gathering. Haji Sara was no longer alive, but Fatma made a point of telling us how much this moment would have meant to her. Later, when we toured the site, we were shown the cave that was Haji Sara’s home (below). It is now used to house a multi-media presentation on the archeological site.
While we were fully prepared for the IDF to interrupt our visit (and had a nonviolent contingency plan in place), thankfully this did not occur. It was truly a blessing to be able to experience this visit without the traumatic presence of soldiers to remind the villagers of the brutal reality of their life under occupation. As it turned out, as we walked back to Susiya, we saw a green bus filled with soldiers roaring toward the archaeological park. About ten minutes later it passed us, heading back in the opposite direction. (Mission accomplished).
It seemed to me that there was something very Jewish about this witness of the exiled returning to their homes. Of course I was also aware that it was our own Jewish privilege in an ethnocentric nation-state that allowed this to brief return to happen at all. We can only hope that this moment offered us all a glimpse of a future when all Palestinians will be able to return to their homes
Tomorrow we’re going back to Hebron, then back to Susiya for Shabbat. I will be reporting on something very special in my next post.
Today we spent a second morning/afternoon in Umm al-Kheir. While one half of our group continued to clear the field for zatar planting, the rest of us went to the other side of the village to rebuild one of the thirty five homes that was destroyed this past April.
Our group was led by a village leader named Eid Suleiman Hathaleen, who did his best to explain the complex, Kafka-esque bureaucracy behind the IDF’s practice of home demolitions and land confiscation. The IDF’s Civil Authority relies on an arcane mix of land laws from the Ottoman, British and/or Jordanian administrations – the three legal systems that once governed what is called today the West Bank. One such law states that those who claim rights in rocky land must prove that they cultivated at least 50 percent of the entire parcel – otherwise, the entire parcel will be deemed state land and Palestinians will be left with no rights whatsoever. For this reason, we are helping the villagers expand their tillable land.
As I mentioned in my last post, the Bedouin residents of Umm al-Kheir purchased their land from the Palestinian town of Yatta over 6o years ago after their expulsion from the Arad region of the Negev desert. In the picture below Eid and his father Suleiman Hathaleen the patriarch of village, shows us the original document that gives his family their rights to the land.
Despite their clear legal right, Eid and his fellow villagers are constantly on the verge of eviction and the regular reality of home and structure demolitions. The Civil Authority can demolish homes and structures for any number of reasons: it can claim the area to be a military “firing zone,” it will deem a house over 35 meters to be unlawfully high, or it might respond with demolition orders for any structure based on complaints from settlers.
The neighboring settlement of Carmel has lodged several such complaints against the people of Umm al-Kheir; once, for instance they sued the village over the smell of manure, which resulted the demolitions of their chicken coops and sheep/goat pens. Perhaps the most bizarre complaint occurred over the aroma of baking bread from the village’s communal taboun (oven). Yes, they were actually forced to go to court to keep the Israeli army from demolishing their stove.
As we prepared to our work rebuilding the home, Eid explained that it was being constructed in different location than the original since demolition orders still apply to any homes or structures built on the same sites. By rebuilding in another spot, the entire bureaucratic process would have to be started from the beginning, and could take up to a year or more to be completed.
There are several new temporary structures donated by the European Union in different locations throughout the village. They are simple metal boxes, essentially four walls without floors. Our job was to take the rubble from the demolished homes and haul them to the new sites to create a floor for one of the new structures. In the picture below, a few of us are shoveling rubble into wheelbarrows to bring over the new home. The picture beneath it shows the final product of our work – not a complete floor yet, but hopefully a good start:
On our way back to the fields, Eid took us on a short detour to show us his art studio. Among other things, Eid is a talented self-taught artist who makes miniature trucks, bulldozers and helicopters from scraps he finds from his village, most of them from demolished structures (see pic below). As he explained it to us, these models (which are so intricate that the steering wheels of the vehicles actually move their tires) constitute a form of artistic resistance – i.e. making something constructive out of acts of destruction. There is of course a profound irony that Eid creates for instance, the very Caterpillar bulldozers that regularly come to destroy his village. Of course this is an intrinsic part of his artistic intention. (You can see more of Eid’s work, contact him or order items from his website here).
Our group then returned to newly cleared field to plant hundreds of zatar plants (pic at the top of this post). While summer is not the traditional time for planting, it was important for the people of Umm al-Kheir to get the plants into the ground as soon as possible for the above mentioned legal reasons. After the planting, the villagers quickly installed irrigation pipes to keep the ground well watered.
I’m sure that some reading these words might be asking why they are working so hard to rebuild homes or sow plants that were all too likely to be demolished or uprooted by the IDF? The answer of course, is that this work is a very disciplined and steadfast form of resistance. The goal of Israel’s draconian military/legal bureaucracy is ultimately to make things so intolerable for the people of Umm al-Kheir – and so many other Palestinian communities throughout the West Bank – that they will eventually be driven from their homes. However, it is all too clear to us that their connection to their land, their homes and their communities is unshakeable. As Sulieman Hathaleen, the patriarch of Umm al-Kheir recently said to a reporter,
We went through so many catastrophes: 1948, 1967 and now the settlements, which have taken most of our land. They left us with nothing. And now they want to expel us. But we will not leave.
I believe him.
After lunch, we traveled to Hebron to tour Area H2 with a guide from the Israeli organization, Breaking the Silence. I’ve written about Hebron and BTS several times before (here and here, for instance.) For now I will only say that the situation in Hebron is even more appalling than ever – if such a thing is even possible. After the tour however, we met with Palestinian non-violent activist Issa Amro (below), the inspiring founder of direct action group Youth Against the Settlements. YAS is truly one of the bright lights in the dark reality that is Hebron and is becoming most well known for its Open Shehudeh Street campaign.
I will have more to say about Hebron, Issa and Youth Against the Settlements in future posts. Stay tuned.
Crossposted with Truthout
The weeklong Jewish festival of Passover is coming to a close, but like many Jews around the world I’m still digesting the myriad questions, answers and discussions that ensued as we retold the biblical story of the Exodus at our seder. While it’s a story our community returns to over and over again, I’m continually astonished at the ways it provides a frame for understanding struggles for liberation past and present.
This year, I’ve been contemplating one aspect of the story in particular: when a new pharaoh arises over Egypt “who did not know Joseph.” We immediately learn in no uncertain terms that this new ruler was considerably more xenophobic than his predecessor:
And (Pharaoh) said to his people, “Look, the Israelite people are much too numerous for us. Let us deal shrewdly with them, so that they may not increase; otherwise in the event of war they may join our enemies in fighting against us.” (Exodus 1:8-9)
To use contemporary parlance, Pharaoh clearly views the Israelites as a “demographic threat” to the Egyptians.
The demographic threat meme, of course, has been played out countless times since the age of the pharaohs. It has certainly been a deeply woven thread in the fabric of American culture from our very origins. To cite but one example: Centuries before Donald Trump started railing against Mexican “criminals” and “rapists,” Benjamin Franklin wrote a 1751 essay in which he bemoaned the influx of “Palatine Boors” into the colonies who would “shortly be so numerous as to Germanize us instead of our Anglifying them, and will never adopt our language or customs, any more than they can acquire our complexion.”
So yes, as an American, I can’t read these words from the Exodus story without connecting it to an ignoble aspect of my own country’s legacy — one that is all too real even today.
And as an American Jew, I can’t help but connect it to another country that also purports to act in my name.
Indeed, ever since Israel’s establishment, Zionist leaders knew well that the future Jewish state would only be “viable” if it could create and maintain a demographic Jewish majority in historic Palestine. In the late 19th century, this must surely have seemed like a tall order, since Jews constituted but 2 to 5 percent of the population. By 1947, following decades of Zionist colonization and Jewish immigration, their number had swelled to 32 percent. Under the UN-sponsored partition plan, the percentage of Jews allotted to the new Jewish state would have been 55 percent.
During the 1948 war — known as the War of Independence by Zionists and the Nakba (“catastrophe”) by Palestinians — the issue of demographics was solved through the forced expulsion of Palestinians from their homes and Israel’s refusal to allow them to return. However, the demographic stakes were raised once again in 1967, when Israel conquered the West Bank and Gaza and began a military occupation that exists to this day.
In 2010, Jews officially become a minority population from the Jordan River to the Mediterranean Sea; around the same time, it was determined that the Jewish majority in Israel proper was slowly diminishing. For some time now, Zionists have been warning that the Palestinians’ birth rate poses a “demographic threat” to the future of the Jewish state.
Perhaps the most surprising aspect of this rhetoric is that it doesn’t only come from Israel’s far right, but from liberal Zionists, who use the demographic argument to advocate for a two-state solution. Witness, for instance, the words of J Street executive director Jeremy Ben-Ami:
When it comes to Israeli-Palestinian peace, the two-state solution and the inexorable demographic threat to Israel’s future as a democratic state that remains the homeland for the Jewish people, our position is the same as that of the Israeli government, the Obama administration and the vast bulk of the American Jewish community.
Leaving aside the issues of whether or not the two-state solution actually is the policyof the Israeli government, let’s unpack this statement for a moment. The liberal Zionist argument for a “democratic Jewish state” is predicated on a view of Palestinians as a “demographic threat.” As an American, if I referred to any other ethnic group in this country with such a term, I would surely be viewed as a bigot or a racist. But as a Jew, I can refer to Palestinians with this epithet and still remain a member in good standing of the liberal peace camp.
Thus the inherent contradiction of liberal Zionism: democracy and demographic engineering simply do not go hand in hand. At the end of the day, there is nothing liberal about supporting an ethno-national project predicated upon the identity of one group over another. The late Meir Kahane, revered by Israel’s ultra right, loved to make liberal Zionists squirm by repeatedly articulating this point: “A western democracy and Zionism are not compatible. You can’t have both.”
Kahane’s solution, of course, was “forced transfer” of the Palestinian population. The current government of Israel is accomplishing this goal through more subtle means:home demolitions, land expropriation and the revocation of Palestinians’ residency and citizenship. In truth, Israel has been dealing with its demographic threat under cover of US support for years, all the while claiming the mantle of “the only democracy in the Middle East.”
This, along with its massive settlement expansion has brought Israel’s demographic problem home to roost. The real decision before them is not between a one-state or two-state solution, but between two one-state solutions: an apartheid Jewish state or one state of all its citizens, regardless of religion or ethnicity.
As I watch this tragic process unfold this Passover, I find myself returning to the universal lesson this festival imparts on the corrupt abuse of state power. Although the Exodus story is considered sacred in Jewish tradition, it would be a mistake to assume that the contemporary state of Israel must be seen as equivalent to the biblical Israelites.
On the contrary, any people who suffer under oppressive government policies are, in a sense, Israelites. And any state — even a Jewish state — that views a people in its midst as a demographic threat can become a Pharaoh.
Is Zionism “settler colonialism?” It’s an important question that is increasingly invoked in public debates over Israel/Palestine – and BDS in particular.
While I personally do believe Israel to be a settler colonial state, I think it’s critical to understand what we mean when we use this term, what it means in the context of Israel/Palestine, and its implications for the wider struggle against systems of oppression in the US and throughout the world.
Let’s start with the definition itself. Many people use the term “settler colonialism” and “colonialism” interchangeably, but they are not in fact the same thing. Colonialism is defined by the Collins Dictionary as “the policy and practice of a power in extending control over weaker peoples or areas.” Historically speaking, it generally refers to specific European imperial powers during a period that lasted from the 16th to mid-20th centuries.
“Settler colonialism,” is a different concept, as Professor of Anthropology Tate A. LeFevre explains:
Though often conflated with colonialism more generally, settler colonialism is a distinct imperial formation. Both colonialism and settler colonialism are premised on exogenous domination, but only settler colonialism seeks to replace the original population of the colonized territory with a new society of settlers (usually from the colonial metropole). This new society needs land, and so settler colonialism depends primarily on access to territory. Britain, for example, implemented the doctrine of “terra nullius” (“land belonging to no one”) to claim sovereignty over Australia. The entire continent was thereby declared legally uninhabited, despite millennia of Aboriginal occupation.
In other words, while colonialism typically refers to events, settler-colonialism is viewed as an ongoing process. Professor LeFevre puts it this way: “Settler colonialism is premised on occupation and the elimination of the native population, while colonialism is primarily about conquest.”
Given this definition, the claim that Zionism is a form of settler colonialism it is not at all inappropriate and certainly not anti-Semitic (as some of the more vociferous Israel advocates will often claim).
There is, for instance, a striking similarity between the British colonial concept of “terra nullius” and the early Zionist slogan, “a land without a people for a people without a land.” This is not say that Zionists viewed the land as literally empty – they most certainly recognized the existence of an Arab population in Palestine. It does mean, however, that they did not always factor its indigenous inhabitants into their equations – and when they did, it was invariably as a problem to be dealt with.
The father of modern Zionism made this clear in his diary when he wrote of Palestinian Arabs:
We shall try to spirit the penniless population across the border by procuring employment for it in the transit countries whilst denying it any employment in our own country.
David Ben-Gurion expressed similar intentions in a 1937 letter to his son Amos (who was critical of his father’s intention to support the 1937 Peel Commission partition plan):
My assumption (which is why I am a fervent proponent of a state, even though it is now linked to partition) is that a Jewish state on only part of the land is not the end but the beginning…
The establishment of a state, even if only on a portion of the land, is the maximal reinforcement of our strength at the present time and a powerful boost to our historical endeavors to liberate the entire country.
We shall admit into the state all the Jews we can. We firmly believe that we can admit more than two million Jews. We shall build a multi-faceted Jewish economy– agricultural, industrial, and maritime. We shall organize an advanced defense force—a superior army which I have no doubt will be one of the best armies in the world. At that point I am confident that we would not fail in settling in the remaining parts of the country, through agreement and understanding with our Arab neighbors, or through some other means.
Thanks to Israeli historians such as Benny Morris, Avi Shlaim, Tom Segev and Ilan Pappe, we now know that the creation of Israel was accomplished through “some other means.” More recently, journalist Avi Shavit recently made reference to this ignoble history in his book, “My Promised Land.” The most chilling chapter (which was reprinted in the New Yorker magazine) describes in detail the depopulation of the Palestinian village of Lydda.
Even more chilling are Shavit’s musings on the meaning of this tragic event:
Looking straight ahead at Lydda, I wonder if peace is possible. Our side is clear: we had to come into the Lydda Valley and we had to take the Lydda Valley. There is no other home for us, and there was no other way. But the Arabs’ side, the Palestinian side, is equally clear: they cannot forget Lydda and they cannot forgive us for Lydda. You can argue that it is not the occupation of 1967 that is at the core of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict but the tragedy of 1948. It’s not only the settlements that are an obstacle to peace but the Palestinians’ yearning to return, one way or another, to Lydda and to dozens of other towns and villages that vanished during one cataclysmic year. But the Jewish State cannot let them return.
Many who reject the “Zionism as Settler Colonialism” label often argue that this claim ignores the historic and Biblical connection of the Jewish people to the land – and that Jews are its “true indigenous people” who have been longing for a return and restoration to their ancient homeland for centuries.
Leaving aside the use of a profoundly ahistorical document such as the Bible as justification for the establishment for a modern Jewish nation state, let’s look more closely at the Zionist claim of Jewish indigeneity to the land.
It is certainly true following the destruction of the Temple in 73 CE and the spread of the Jewish people throughout the diaspora, Jewish tradition continued to maintain an important attachment to the land of Israel. Eretz Yisrael (“the Land of Israel”) is a central subject in many sacred Jewish texts and numerous traditional Jewish prayers express a longing for a return of the Jewish people to the land. It is also true that there have been small Jewish communities in historic Palestine throughout the ages and that pilgrimage to Eretz Yisrael was considered to be a mitzvah (“or sacred commandment”.)
However, it is important to note that the Jewish attachment to this land has traditionally been expressed as an inherently religious connection. From its very beginnings, Judaism has spiritualized the concept of the land. Moreover, throughout the centuries, rabbinical authorities strictly prohibited an en masse return to the land in order to establish a Third Jewish Commonwealth. Such an act was viewed as an anathema – a profane forcing of God’s hand. The restoration of the Jewish People to the land would only occur with the coming of the Messiah and the onset of the Messianic Era.
It is against this context that we must understand Zionism as a modern political movement, arising in the 19th century as an explicit rejection of Jewish tradition. While Judaism was a diaspora-based religion that taught God could be found anywhere in the world, Zionism preached “shlilat hagalut” (“negation of the diaspora”), advocating for a literal return to the land in order to establish a modern Jewish nation state. Influenced by the European nationalisms of its day, Zionism sought to create a new kind of Judaism and indeed, a new kind of Jew.
This radical revisioning of Jewish life and culture in many ways represents the exact opposite of indigeneity. Indigenous peoples by definition maintain unique cultural and linguistic practices distinctive to their presence in a particular land. Zionism created a completely new Hebraic Jewish culture – one that was deeply influenced by a European Ashkenazic ethos and transplanted into the Middle East. To be clear: this is not to say that Jews have no connection to this land and no right to live there, only that the claim of Jewish indigeneity is ideological, rather than factual – and that this claim has had a devastating impact on the actual indigenous people of this land.
Other critics of the settler colonialist label point out that there is no such thing as a discrete “Zionism;” that this movement was historically made up of many different Zionisms, not all of which shared the same political goals. There were, for instance, cultural Zionists such as Ahad Ha’am who did not share Herzl’s desire of a Jewish political state but rather advocated for a gradual colonization of Palestine that would make it the center of a Jewish cultural renaissance. There also Zionists such as Judah Magnes and Hannah Arendt, who believed in the creation of a bi-national Jewish/Arab state in Palestine.
These variants of Zionism represent an important fact of history. But it is also true that they are precisely that: part of the historical past. If Magnes or Arendt were living today, they would surely be considered “anti-Zionist”. In the end, the form of Zionism that ultimately triumphed was the political Zionism advocated by those who sought to create a sovereign Jewish state in historic Palestine. And it was this Zionism that aimed to solve the problem of Palestine’s indigenous population “through some other means” – that is, by means of settler colonialism.
In one of the most comprehensive treatments I’ve yet read on this subject, Bennett Muraskin writes:
Zionism is described by its supporters as the national liberation movement of the Jewish people, but it must be recognized that until the 1947 UN Partition Plan, the land it sought to liberate had a minority of Jews, consisting mainly of recent Europeans immigrants living under the protection of an imperial power. When the British turned against the Jewish colony, the Zionists succeeded in liberating themselves, but in the war it fought with the Palestinian Arabs and Arab armies, the Zionists dispossessed the native population.
In this sense, Israel is a colonial settler state.
Muraskin, however, then goes on to list the ways that make Israel different from other settler colonial states. His intention, I assume, is to leave open the possibility that it somehow isn’t. This equivocal attitude is obvious from the outset – Muraskin’s article is actually entitled “Is Israel a Colonial Settler State? Perhaps but with Lots of Provisos.”
In the end, however, I believe these “provisos” only demonstrate that Zionism represents but one form of settler colonialism. One obvious difference is that Israel was created by what began as a small movement, not an existing colonial power such as Great Britain, France or Belgium. However it is also true that Israel could never have been created without the help of great world powers (Britain and later the US) who supported the creation of the Jewish state because it advanced their own imperial agendas. James Baldwin put it very aptly in 1979: he state of Israel was not created for the salvation of the Jews; it was created for the salvation of the Western interests.”
In the end, this insight explains why the debate over this term is more than just academic or semantical. Israel’s oppressive policies against the Palestinians do not exist in a vacuum. They are but part of a larger hegemonic system of white supremacy and institutionalized racism that exists in the US and throughout the world.
As Professor LeFevre writes, “Settler colonialism does not really ever ‘end.’” Perhaps the first step in that direction is to call it out for what it really and truly is.
The regents of the University of California have spoken and has voted unanimously to adopt its working group’s “Principles Against Intolerance.” As I wrote last week, it is a report that dangerously conflates anti-Zionism with anti-Semitism in ways that make the report muddled, unenforceable, and a very real threat to the free speech of pro-Palestinian student groups on campus.
While most of the public debate over this report has focused on the challenge of balancing the UC’s desire to combat intolerance with the need to protect freedom of speech, it seems to me that one critical aspect of this issue has gone largely unaddressed: the fact that this report which purports to address the issue of intolerance on campus frames the issue almost exclusively in terms of anti-Semitism.
To be sure, if this report was intended to be a comprehensive statement on intolerance, wouldn’t the UC’s working group have consulted with a wide variety of experts on the campus intolerance currently faced by Muslim students, students of color, LGBTQ students, etc? Tellingly, the report states that the working group “invited four recognized scholars and/or leaders on the subjects of discrimination, with a particular focus on anti-Semitism, and on free speech.” (Among these four expert/scholars were Rabbi Marvin Hier, of the Simon Wiesenthal Center, a high profile Israel advocate whose organization is currently building its”Museum of Tolerance” on top of an ancient Muslim cemetery in Jerusalem.)
Even more troubling, the opening “Contextual Statement” of the report states that the working group was formed in response to”public comment and concern from a variety of sources that there has been an increase in incidents reflecting anti-Semitism on UC campuses.” The regents offer nothing more than this anecdotal statement to justify the formation of a working group and a months-long deliberation and debate on this issue. There is, however, no real evidence to support the claim that campus anti-Semitism is on the rise. Quite the contrary, as the Anti-Defamation League itself recently reported:
While (anti-Semitic) incidents are certainly disturbing, it is important to note that these incidents are relatively rare, and the vast majority of Jewish students report feeling safe on their campuses.
This all begs the obvious question: why did the regents of UC feel the need to form a working group and hold a long public debate over a report such as this? I would submit it has nothing to do with genuine concern about intolerance on campus and everything to do with politics. This report is but a part of a much larger effort that seeks to stem the growing tide of the Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions movement on college campuses.
As the LA Times just reported:
The drive for the UC statement was led by the Amcha Initiative, a group that combats anti-Jewish bias on college campuses. Tammi Rossman-Benjamin, the group’s director and a lecturer at UC Santa Cruz, said campus demonstrations against Israeli policies and calls for the university to divest from firms with financial ties to Israel’s military have created blowback for Jewish students.
The involvement of the AMCHA Initiative with this “drive” tells you everything you need to know about the motivation behind the UC’s statement. AMCHA is a zealous Israel advocacy organization that fights campus “anti-Semitism” by monitoring college classes, spying on students and publishing names of “anti-Israel”professors. It bears noting that AMCHA was publicly admonished in 2014 by San Francisco State University (along with, you guessed it, the Simon Wiesenthal Center) for making false accusations against a professor. That same year, a group of forty Jewish studies professors from across North America wrote a public letter condemning AMCHA and its tactics.
Here’s an excerpt:
It goes without saying that we, as students of antisemitism, are unequivocally opposed to any and all traces of this scourge. That said, we find the actions of AMCHA deplorable.
Its technique of monitoring lectures, symposia and conferences strains the basic principle of academic freedom on which the American university is built. Moreover, its definition of antisemitism is so undiscriminating as to be meaningless. Instead of encouraging openness through its efforts, AMCHA’s approach closes off all but the most narrow intellectual directions and has a chilling effect on research and teaching.
Given the involvement of groups such as AMCHA, it is difficult to view the regents’ statement as anything other than a caving in to the pressure of professional advocacy groups determined to quash BDS and shut down pro-Palestinian advocacy on college campuses. Sadly, by labeling this criticism of Israel and anti-Zionism as anti-Semitic, it only silences students, renders the term meaningless and makes it that much harder to take actual allegations of campus anti-Semitism seriously.
As the ADL has reported, the vast majority of Jewish students report they feel safe on their campuses. Some of them may be made to feel uncomfortable by Palestinian activism and divestment resolutions, but uncomfortable is a far cry from unsafe. And it is shameful that UC has allowed itself to be pressured into issuing an unnecessary and downright dangerous statement such as this.
Given the current climate in our nation, I’d wager if there was a group of students who might well feel justifiably unsafe, it is Muslim students. By all reports, college campuses are feeling the impact of anti-Muslim hatred that began with 9/11, and is currently being fanned yet further during this horrid election cycle. For more this particular subject, I highly recommend this powerful article by Nasreen Mohamed, an administrator at the University of Minnesota. I’ll end with her words:
After the ending of a successful program to welcome new international students, I noticed one of the students who attended the program struggling to figure out the bus route to get home. I stopped to assist her, and we ended up walking together as I happened to be going in the same direction. We struck up a conversation about walking on campus. She is a Lebanese Muslim woman who wears a hijab. She asked me how safe it was for her to walk on campus. I gave her my administrative cautionary tale about taking safety precautions and avoiding walking alone late in the evening. After a pause, she asked me how safe it was to walk on campus as a Muslim woman, wearing a hijab. I realized in her pause and clarification that there was very little I could offer her in terms of a sense of safety. All I could do was to give her a realistic picture. I told her that there had been violence in the Twin Cities and in Greater Minnesota, but nothing violent had occurred on campus. After I walked away, I realized that she will be met with the same micro aggressions that I had experienced post 9/11, and that our campus was still not equipped to protect her spirit.
Cross-posted with Ha’aretz
As an alum of UCLA, I was particularly interested when I learned that the working group for the Regents of the University of California Board had released their draft “Statement of Principles Against Intolerance.” Having followed the news at my alma mater I knew that despite its title, this report wasn’t going to be merely a general statement about the importance of tolerance on campus. It was written in response to allegations of rising anti-Semitism at UCLA and other UC campuses.
On the face of it, there is much to admire about the report, particularly its strong support of campus environments “in which all are included, all are given an equal opportunity to learn and explore, in which differences as well as commonalities are celebrated, and in which dissenting viewpoints are not only tolerated but encouraged.”
In the end, however, this “Statement of Tolerance” actually achieves the exact opposite of its stated goals. If heeded, it would serve to silence dissent and open debate on college campuses.
At the beginning of the draft report, it states:
Fundamentally, commenters noted that historic manifestations of anti‐Semitism have changed and that expressions of anti‐Semitism are more coded and difficult to identify.In particular, opposition to Zionism often is expressed in ways that are not simply statements of disagreement over politics and policy, but also assertions of prejudice and intolerance toward Jewish people and culture.
The statement thus concludes that “anti‐Semitism, anti‐Zionism and other forms of discrimination have no place at the University of California.”
It is certainly important to state unequivocally that anti-Semitism will not be tolerated on UC campuses. But it is incorrect and even disingenuous of the report to make the unsupported claim that anti-Zionism is “often expressed (as) assertions of prejudice and intolerance toward Jewish people and culture,” and blithely conflate anti-Semitism with anti-Zionism as a “form of discrimination”.
It is true that some anti-Semites lurk behind the label of anti-Zionism – and when they do they should rightly be exposed and condemned. But it is deeply problematic to label anti-Zionism as a form of discrimination.
In fact, growing numbers of Jews and others identify as anti-Zionists for legitimate ideological reasons. Many profess anti-Zionism because they do not believe Israel can be both a Jewish and democratic state. Some don’t believe that the identity of a nation should be dependent upon the demographic majority of one people over another. Others choose not to put this highly militarized ethnic nation-state at the center of their Jewish identity. Far from being discriminatory, their beliefs are motivated by values of equality and human rights for all human beings.
Blurring the distinction between anti-Zionism and anti-Semitism muddles the definition of anti-Semitism to the point that it becomes meaningless.This conflation is irresponsible and harmful and invariably draws our attention away from real anti-Semitism, whether it be the targeting of Jews, the vandalization of synagogues and cemeteries or the proliferation of hate groups at home and abroad.
Certainly all forms of racism should be called out in no uncertain terms. But erasing the lines between anti-Semitism and anti-Zionism only makes this task more difficult.
I can’t help but notice that this report’s broadside on anti-Zionism strongly evokes the right-wing agenda of groups such as the AMCHA initiative. Tammi Rossman-Benjamin, Director of AMCHA has long made it clear that tarring anti-Zionists as anti-Semites is part of a larger strategy to ban Palestinian solidarity groups from campuses across the country.
Such a policy would have a devastating impact on Palestinian activists and their allies. It would prevent many Palestinian and Israeli human rights advocates from speaking on college campuses. It would prevent students from displaying a model of Israel’s separation wall to demonstrate to the oppressive effects of Israel’s occupation. And it would forbid student efforts to hold Israel accountable through economic pressure, through campaigns to boycott and divest from settlements or from corporations that profit from the abusive policies of the state of Israel.
Having long worked in the Jewish community, I know that some Jewish organizations equate anti-Zionism with anti-Semitism because they seek to protect Israel’s image or because they do not want Jewish college students to have to tolerate criticism of Israel and Zionism.Those who believe in a one state solution are accused of seeking “the destruction of the Jewish state” when they actually hold their position as a result of honest political analysis and a genuine concern for all who live in the land, regardless of their religion or ethnicity.
Yes, critics of Israel and Zionism can sometimes be harsh and their tactics confrontational, but I do believe we do our young people no favors when we attempt to silence them. Though I have come a long way since my UCLA days, I still remember all too well how uncomfortable it was to have one’s beliefs and opinions challenged.But we should not confuse “uncomfortable” with “unsafe.” Forbidding debate and free speech will not create more comfortable campus environments – it will only marginalize students for legitimately expressing their beliefs.
The UC Regents claims to support the open exchange of ideas on their campuses. But they will never accomplish this if they teach students that their ideas only matter if they pass a political litmus test.
Benjamin Netanyahu’s recent comment at the World Zionist Congress attributing the Final Solution to the Grand Mufti of Jerusalem was stupid and ignorant – and he has been justifiably ridiculed around the world for making it. But those who think these kinds of crazy comments will somehow prove his downfall should think twice. Netanyahu has long been willing to take his lumps for his silly behavior as long as it ultimately serves his political purpose. In this case, his purpose is clear: he is attempting frame Palestinian violence as the result of religious (read “Muslim”) intolerance of Jews.
And those of us who delight in ridiculing Bibi the Clown should take heed: there is every indication that his attempts to shift this particular narrative are starting to gain traction.
Just a few days before Netanyahu’s comments, for instance, Jeffrey Goldberg, a well-known mainstream media journalist, published an article in The Atlantic entitled “The Paranoid, Supremacist Roots of the Stabbing Intifada.” His conclusion?
One of the tragedies of the settlement movement is that it obscures what might be the actual root cause of the Middle East conflict: the unwillingness of many Muslim Palestinians to accept the notion that Jews are a people who are indigenous to the land Palestinians believe to be exclusively their own…
In his piece, Goldberg traces this “root cause” as far back as the 1920s. Like Netanyahu, he casually portrays the wretched Mufti of Jerusalem, Haj Amin al-Husseini as a surrogate for the Palestinian people writ large, conveniently neglecting to point out that al-Husseini was not in fact chosen by Muslim Palestinians, but was actually appointed by the British High Commissioner Herbert Samuel in 1921 – and that he was dismissed as Mufti in 1936, five years before he famously met with Hitler. Even more crucially, treating a colonially-appointed Muslim leader as representative of the entire Palestinian people conveniently ignores the presence of Palestinian Christians, who in the 1920s made up one tenth of the population of Palestine.
In its way, his post was even more dangerous than Netanyahu’s silly remark, as it put a legitimate face on the claim that the Israel-Palestine conflict can essentially be reduced to Muslim intolerance of Jews. In contrast to Netanyahu’s remarks, Goldberg’s article was widely respected and went viral across the social media. Much to my dismay, many of my liberal rabbinic colleagues approvingly posted it on their Facebook pages.
In his article, Goldberg also pointed to recent “harsh” statements by Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas, suggesting that “these sorts of comments…suggest a tragic continuity between the 1920s and today.” Abbas’ comments were odious to be sure, but it is ludicrous in the extreme to somehow characterize him as a wide-eyed Muslim extremist. And it is even more ludicrous to suggest that the majority of young Palestinians engaging in the current violence have been “incited” by his words.
As Israeli journalist Mya Guarnieri has rightly observed:
Those who call this a religious war, and who point to Abbas’ words as incitement, have got it backwards. Abbas — whose term expired in 2009 and has little legitimacy on the Palestinian street — is trying to insert himself into recent events in a bid to regain popularity.
But the Palestinian youth who are protesting and carrying out attacks on Israelis care little what he or other politicians say. Indeed, their actions can also be understood as moves against the current state of politics, including the Palestinian Authority itself. The young people are calling for something new, for something more than endless negotiations that go nowhere or that buy Israel the time to build more settlements and deepen the occupation. After all, this is the generation that was born and raised after the Oslo Accords were signed in 1993 — their difficult lives are a testimony to what negotiations will get the Palestinian people. That is to say, little.
That’s right: the true “roots” of this tragedy are not religious but political. If we are to draw a direct from the violence of the 1920s until today, it should more accurately be traced from a collision between a Jewish ethno-nationalist enterprise and an indigenous population resisting displacement and occupation.
I find it notable that Goldberg does not track his “religious intolerance” narrative further back than the 1920s. In fact, while there has always been a Jewish presence in this land, there was relatively little tension between the religious communities of Palestine before the 19th century – when the Zionist movement began colonizing it with the express purpose of creating an exclusively Jewish state in a historically multi-religious and multi-ethnic land.
Having said this, however, I do fear that the longer this political injustice is allowed to continue – the longer Israel’s oppression of Palestinians is allowed to continue with impunity – the more likely we will witness the rise of religious extremists on both sides. This is clearly Netanyahu’s strategy of course: to “manage the conflict” until the religious extremist meme invariably becomes a reality.
Just yesterday, for example, the Israeli Prime Minister was quoted as saying that although he does not want a bi-national state, “at this time we need to control all of the territory for the foreseeable future…I’m asked if we will forever live by the sword – yes.” Then most tellingly, he added this all-too-familiar analysis: “half of the Palestinians are ruled by an extreme Islam that wants to destroy us.”
Yes, on the one hand it’s just more Bibi-bombast. But don’t dismiss his words too easily. As long as Israel seeks to “control all of the territory,” the more likely the chances that his cynical narrative will tragically become a self-fulfilling prophecy.