Sisterhood is Islamic: an Interview with Daisy Khan
By Rene Rosechild
August 25, 2009
The face of modern global feminism is wearing hijab. The director of the American Society for Muslim Advancement talks to us about the new "Jihad Against Violence" and other developments in the worldwide Muslim women's movement.
A month ago, in late July, over 200 Muslim women leaders and activists met at the Women’s Islamic Initiative in Spirituality and Equality conference in Kuala Lumpur. The women launched a Global Muslim Women’s Shura Council, an all-women’s advisory council that will promote women’s rights within an Islamic framework. The first action of the Shura Council was to launch a “Jihad Against Violence.”
I spoke with Daisy Khan, executive director of the American Society for Muslim Advancement, (and member of the Religion Dispatches Advisory Council) about the conference and the worldwide Muslim women’s movement.
What’s the impetus behind the WISE conference? Its long-term goals?
It’s change through institution-building. One of the gaping holes that we’ve seen is that we have a very large constituency of Muslim women that are left unrepresented through institutions; so we don’t have an institution that really speaks for us, even though we are half a billion around the globe.
What do you see as the greatest obstacles to Muslim women’s advancement?
I was quite shocked that when polled, 93% of the women at the conference said the greatest barrier to their advancement was distorted religious interpretation.
That’s almost a consensus.
And I think that 97% said that women should be in the forefront of interpreting and becoming authorities on interpretation.
You have to organize in such a way: you have to create women who have the authority to interpret, and that requires a longer-term educational program, which we did launch and have already seeded here, called the Muslim Women’s Muftiyya Program. Basically a Muslim woman jurist, a scholar; a woman who would be able to look at religious text, interpret it, and give a legal opinion, also known as a fatwa.
And if a woman achieves that level of scholarship, is there any barrier to her authority being recognized?
No—the recognition, the authority, lies in her scholarship.
So in a way you could say that Islam is non-sexist in that if the individual achieves the correct level of learning, she has authority.
It has always been that way. Because of social pressures women have not entered that field, and this is the one area in which we want to revive this tradition. There has never been any objection to women being jurists. What we are doing is we’re just reviving the tradition of women being such authorities.
Are you getting resistance?
We have not really received resistance in this area yet because we are doing it in a very thoughtful way. But the consensus that we have heard is that women themselves, the constituency—and they’re grassroots women, very tapped into their local communities—they know what is needed. And given that, we do not believe that we will be resisted. In fact we believe we’ll be welcomed, because the world needs it.
It seems that in various different countries Muslim women are seeking specific change, and are making some big changes. What progress do you see being made on those fronts?
The challenges for Muslim women in different countries are different. Some who are living in conflict-ridden zones are literally working toward survival threats; for instance in Afghanistan. They are concerned about basic education of their children, they are considering home-schooling, they need assistance with how to maintain their basic standard of living.
Then we have countries like Iran where women are highly educated and want their rightful place in society. For them, the challenge is how to get more equal status within society. You have women in Turkey who are struggling to express their religion; they want that recognition. The landscape of the Muslim world is different and the challenges are different from region to region, country to country, because of the political instability or economic development of that country.
What we are trying to do through WISE is create a little bit of a level field through education, through a compact that we have signed as women that we must lift up the status of women throughout societies; and that there must be consistency of how women are to be seen and are to be treated in every society that calls itself Muslim.
Do you see any inherent conflict between Islam itself and full women’s equality?
No, actually we declare gender equality to be an intrinsic part of the Islamic faith. It’s something that people have long forgotten. And this is why we are stating our case from an Islamic jurisprudence point of view. We believe that Muslim women are worthy of respect and dignity. According to Islam, they’re legal individuals; they’re spiritual beings; they’re social people. These are all God-given responsibilities.
They are even responsible agents, so they are held accountable for their actions. They are free citizens. True, they’re servants of God; but they hold fundamental equal rights to exercise their abilities and talents in all human areas of activity.
And we can prove this through our scripture. This is not something we made up; this is not a 21st-century concept. Societies may have forgotten these concepts. We understand that some people may think that women have different roles. Different roles doesn’t mean that she is inferior. It just means that men have certain qualities; women have other qualities, but we are partners. This is how we’re referred to in the Qur’an. So we need to revive that.
As women, we have a responsibility to make our case; because if we don’t make our case, others won’t be able to. This is not to say that because we are equal it is in any way to be seen as a threat to other people.
We will need to educate people about what women’s rights are, and how when women exercise these, they become a very important part of society’s flourishing. We want women to be seen as assets, not as burdens anymore. This is critical because women represent half of the population, if not more, especially in the Muslim world. They are the glue that holds the family together. They are the glue that holds the community together, and ultimately a good woman produces a good child produces a good citizen produces a good future. So we want people to understand and recognize that women are central to the society flourishing.
They have always had a very high status in the eyes of the prophet. The Qur’an says that paradise lies at the feet of the mother, and what does that mean? Why does a mother have such a high status, and then people think that women are inferior? The two just don’t make sense—they’re not parallel. So we’re just remaking our case in such a way that it is accepted.
We did a test on several male scholars: we asked them to review this document and we were quite shocked at some of the responses we got. One of the imams said, “Not only do I agree with this entire thing, I’m also going to give a Friday sermon on this, and then I’m going to translate it into Urdu, and I’m going to have it sent to every madrassah so every young boy knows who women are and what their rights are.”
So people see this as a welcome sign, because some male scholars and male imams need our help to make our case for them.
The women’s jihad against violence—let’s talk about that. First the goals?
We first started with domestic violence because that was something that we wanted to rid our communities of, especially when it’s done in the name of our religion. We wanted to make sure that we let everybody know that there is no justification for domestic violence.
That verse [4:34] people cite that claims that men have ultimate authority in marriage—what do you say about that?
I think the general consensus in that verse is that the purpose of marriage is to create harmony in the home; not to create this kind of discord and pain and suffering. The prophet was known to be the walking Qur’an. When he had a family dispute, he never struck a woman; in fact he was very respectful to women. He always walked away. So number one, there is no prophetic precedent.
So again, that’s a point where scholarship is going to help.
And that is where great minds can come in and say, “What does this really mean?” and Laleh Bakhtiar, a Saudi scholar, has gone through the entire Qur’an in analysis and said that daraba has several meanings: yes, one of them is “beat,” but it has also been translated as “go away.” So that seems to be the more appropriate one.
When you present that to women, they say, “Of course. That’s what it should be.” And that’s what makes sense, and that’s what the prophet did. So why was this verse translated differently?
So you started with domestic violence, that’s an important issue...
It’s an important issue, but what is really pressing right now for the entire global community—and most importantly for the Muslim community, because Muslims are getting impacted by violence more than anybody else—is violent extremism. We believe that violence is creating great suffering and pain everywhere. It’s not only devastating individual lives, it’s crippling entire societies. It destroys property, it’s impoverishing nations because there’s no economic development, and it’s violating the essential dignity of all humans. What it does to the future is even more dangerous, because it develops and generates a lot of mistrust and intolerance which poison an entire generation. It mars the name and reputation of Islam. Islam gets linked to terrorism and violence as if the two are so integrally married, and that’s bad for Islam.
And also, finally, it’s un-Islamic.
It’s un-Islamic because you’re not supposed to take an innocent life; that’s it! So why has it become the norm? The norm should be peace. Violence—when it has to be done—there is a process, there is an entire theory on what is just war, and those are all rules that have to be followed. Killing innocents is not part of that.
On the other hand, what peace brings: Human development is taking place, people are getting educated, minds are expanding. You are creating relative tranquility in the home. It increases wealth and builds prosperity in the nation.
It heightens respect and appreciation of others; you’re not suspicious of your neighbor, you have respect and tolerance for others. For us it also affirms that Islam truly is a religion of peace.
This is why we juxtapose the two against one another. Violence is bringing nothing—there is nothing in it, it has no solutions. And look at what peace can bring! Let’s pledge that we will join the movement, to take a pledge, to ask everybody to join this jihad against violence, or jihad for peace.
There’s a feeling that women have a special role or special opportunity to have a positive impact by taking leadership.
Yes. We decided to start it with the individual first. Each woman will take a pledge herself. Then she will extend that pledge to her family. Then that pledge they will continue to their community. So we would like to start this movement in Ramadan of this year, when it’s fasting month, and there’s also an international day of peace where we will ask people to create small gatherings where they can extend this pledge.
It’s such a resonant word, jihad, for both Muslims and non-Muslims. The decision to choose that word—what do you think about that?
We chose that word because we felt the word has been hijacked by others. The word, “jihad” is something that Muslims use in their vernacular as a way of saying “this is my big struggle, or my big challenge in life,” but it has been completely hijacked by people: the word has been distorted, it has only been given one meaning, and so we wanted to reclaim the word for ourselves and give it the true meaning, which is that it’s going to be a big struggle to even push away violence from our communities and to usher in an era of peace. We felt that a strong word like that would be important.
A question that might be a little trivial, but comes up in any discussion of modern Muslim women is the issue concerning dress, freedom of dress both ways. Is it something that comes up within your movement? Do you think it’s even something that needs to be talked about?
People have gone beyond the issue of dress, because there are more pressing issues; there are some women who are struggling to survive. We have to focus on big issues that really impact us all. We have to once and for all improve the status of Muslim women, how they are seen and how they are treated around the world.
There is a radical internal debate going on in the Muslim community that is not being recognized by anybody out there. It’s not even about projecting ourselves any more. It’s about who we are, and how we define ourselves as a global community. Where are we falling short? Where do we need to improve? We women, who are usually very secure in our faith; we are more nurturing, we are open to collaborating, we are prepared to have this discussion. We are not afraid to have this discussion. And we think it’s critical to have this discussion.
One thing that occurs to me is that a huge percentage of people in the world are Muslim; at least half are women. If all of those women’s lives can be improved, and if they can speak as a voice for peace, then that will also have a positive impact on the rest of the world.
It’s important that women begin to talk of peace and to resist collectively, because if we can bring together an ambiance where we talk to one another, we create a buzz for ushering in an era of peace. Islam actually means peace; so why shouldn’t we work toward peace?
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Boycott Israel
An Israeli comes to the painful conclusion that it's the only way to save his country.
By Neve Gordon
August 20, 2009
Israeli newspapers this summer are filled with angry articles about the push for an international boycott of Israel. Films have been withdrawn from Israeli film festivals, Leonard Cohen is under fire around the world for his decision to perform in Tel Aviv, and Oxfam has severed ties with a celebrity spokesperson, a British actress who also endorses cosmetics produced in the occupied territories. Clearly, the campaign to use the kind of tactics that helped put an end to the practice of apartheid in South Africa is gaining many followers around the world.
Not surprisingly, many Israelis -- even peaceniks -- aren't signing on. A global boycott can't help but contain echoes of anti-Semitism. It also brings up questions of a double standard (why not boycott China for its egregious violations of human rights?) and the seemingly contradictory position of approving a boycott of one's own nation.
It is indeed not a simple matter for me as an Israeli citizen to call on foreign governments, regional authorities, international social movements, faith-based organizations, unions and citizens to suspend cooperation with Israel. But today, as I watch my two boys playing in the yard, I am convinced that it is the only way that Israel can be saved from itself.
I say this because Israel has reached a historic crossroads, and times of crisis call for dramatic measures. I say this as a Jew who has chosen to raise his children in Israel, who has been a member of the Israeli peace camp for almost 30 years and who is deeply anxious about the country's future.
The most accurate way to describe Israel today is as an apartheid state. For more than 42 years, Israel has controlled the land between the Jordan Valley and the Mediterranean Sea. Within this region about 6 million Jews and close to 5 million Palestinians reside. Out of this population, 3.5 million Palestinians and almost half a million Jews live in the areas Israel occupied in 1967, and yet while these two groups live in the same area, they are subjected to totally different legal systems. The Palestinians are stateless and lack many of the most basic human rights. By sharp contrast, all Jews -- whether they live in the occupied territories or in Israel -- are citizens of the state of Israel.
The question that keeps me up at night, both as a parent and as a citizen, is how to ensure that my two children as well as the children of my Palestinian neighbors do not grow up in an apartheid regime.
There are only two moral ways of achieving this goal.
The first is the one-state solution: offering citizenship to all Palestinians and thus establishing a bi-national democracy within the entire area controlled by Israel. Given the demographics, this would amount to the demise of Israel as a Jewish state; for most Israeli Jews, it is anathema.
The second means of ending our apartheid is through the two-state solution, which entails Israel's withdrawal to the pre-1967 borders (with possible one-for-one land swaps), the division of Jerusalem, and a recognition of the Palestinian right of return with the stipulation that only a limited number of the 4.5 million Palestinian refugees would be allowed to return to Israel, while the rest can return to the new Palestinian state.
Geographically, the one-state solution appears much more feasible because Jews and Palestinians are already totally enmeshed; indeed, "on the ground," the one-state solution (in an apartheid manifestation) is a reality.
Ideologically, the two-state solution is more realistic because fewer than 1% of Jews and only a minority of Palestinians support binationalism.
For now, despite the concrete difficulties, it makes more sense to alter the geographic realities than the ideological ones. If at some future date the two peoples decide to share a state, they can do so, but currently this is not something they want.
So if the two-state solution is the way to stop the apartheid state, then how does one achieve this goal?
I am convinced that outside pressure is the only answer. Over the last three decades, Jewish settlers in the occupied territories have dramatically increased their numbers. The myth of the united Jerusalem has led to the creation of an apartheid city where Palestinians aren't citizens and lack basic services. The Israeli peace camp has gradually dwindled so that today it is almost nonexistent, and Israeli politics are moving more and more to the extreme right.
It is therefore clear to me that the only way to counter the apartheid trend in Israel is through massive international pressure. The words and condemnations from the Obama administration and the European Union have yielded no results, not even a settlement freeze, let alone a decision to withdraw from the occupied territories.
I consequently have decided to support the Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions movement that was launched by Palestinian activists in July 2005 and has since garnered widespread support around the globe. The objective is to ensure that Israel respects its obligations under international law and that Palestinians are granted the right to self-determination.
In Bilbao, Spain, in 2008, a coalition of organizations from all over the world formulated the 10-point Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions campaign meant to pressure Israel in a "gradual, sustainable manner that is sensitive to context and capacity." For example, the effort begins with sanctions on and divestment from Israeli firms operating in the occupied territories, followed by actions against those that help sustain and reinforce the occupation in a visible manner. Along similar lines, artists who come to Israel in order to draw attention to the occupation are welcome, while those who just want to perform are not.
Nothing else has worked. Putting massive international pressure on Israel is the only way to guarantee that the next generation of Israelis and Palestinians -- my two boys included -- does not grow up in an apartheid regime.
Neve Gordon is the author of "Israel's Occupation" and teaches politics at Ben-Gurion University in Beersheba, Israel.
Copyright © 2009, The Los Angeles Times
An Israeli comes to the painful conclusion that it's the only way to save his country.
By Neve Gordon
August 20, 2009
Israeli newspapers this summer are filled with angry articles about the push for an international boycott of Israel. Films have been withdrawn from Israeli film festivals, Leonard Cohen is under fire around the world for his decision to perform in Tel Aviv, and Oxfam has severed ties with a celebrity spokesperson, a British actress who also endorses cosmetics produced in the occupied territories. Clearly, the campaign to use the kind of tactics that helped put an end to the practice of apartheid in South Africa is gaining many followers around the world.
Not surprisingly, many Israelis -- even peaceniks -- aren't signing on. A global boycott can't help but contain echoes of anti-Semitism. It also brings up questions of a double standard (why not boycott China for its egregious violations of human rights?) and the seemingly contradictory position of approving a boycott of one's own nation.
It is indeed not a simple matter for me as an Israeli citizen to call on foreign governments, regional authorities, international social movements, faith-based organizations, unions and citizens to suspend cooperation with Israel. But today, as I watch my two boys playing in the yard, I am convinced that it is the only way that Israel can be saved from itself.
I say this because Israel has reached a historic crossroads, and times of crisis call for dramatic measures. I say this as a Jew who has chosen to raise his children in Israel, who has been a member of the Israeli peace camp for almost 30 years and who is deeply anxious about the country's future.
The most accurate way to describe Israel today is as an apartheid state. For more than 42 years, Israel has controlled the land between the Jordan Valley and the Mediterranean Sea. Within this region about 6 million Jews and close to 5 million Palestinians reside. Out of this population, 3.5 million Palestinians and almost half a million Jews live in the areas Israel occupied in 1967, and yet while these two groups live in the same area, they are subjected to totally different legal systems. The Palestinians are stateless and lack many of the most basic human rights. By sharp contrast, all Jews -- whether they live in the occupied territories or in Israel -- are citizens of the state of Israel.
The question that keeps me up at night, both as a parent and as a citizen, is how to ensure that my two children as well as the children of my Palestinian neighbors do not grow up in an apartheid regime.
There are only two moral ways of achieving this goal.
The first is the one-state solution: offering citizenship to all Palestinians and thus establishing a bi-national democracy within the entire area controlled by Israel. Given the demographics, this would amount to the demise of Israel as a Jewish state; for most Israeli Jews, it is anathema.
The second means of ending our apartheid is through the two-state solution, which entails Israel's withdrawal to the pre-1967 borders (with possible one-for-one land swaps), the division of Jerusalem, and a recognition of the Palestinian right of return with the stipulation that only a limited number of the 4.5 million Palestinian refugees would be allowed to return to Israel, while the rest can return to the new Palestinian state.
Geographically, the one-state solution appears much more feasible because Jews and Palestinians are already totally enmeshed; indeed, "on the ground," the one-state solution (in an apartheid manifestation) is a reality.
Ideologically, the two-state solution is more realistic because fewer than 1% of Jews and only a minority of Palestinians support binationalism.
For now, despite the concrete difficulties, it makes more sense to alter the geographic realities than the ideological ones. If at some future date the two peoples decide to share a state, they can do so, but currently this is not something they want.
So if the two-state solution is the way to stop the apartheid state, then how does one achieve this goal?
I am convinced that outside pressure is the only answer. Over the last three decades, Jewish settlers in the occupied territories have dramatically increased their numbers. The myth of the united Jerusalem has led to the creation of an apartheid city where Palestinians aren't citizens and lack basic services. The Israeli peace camp has gradually dwindled so that today it is almost nonexistent, and Israeli politics are moving more and more to the extreme right.
It is therefore clear to me that the only way to counter the apartheid trend in Israel is through massive international pressure. The words and condemnations from the Obama administration and the European Union have yielded no results, not even a settlement freeze, let alone a decision to withdraw from the occupied territories.
I consequently have decided to support the Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions movement that was launched by Palestinian activists in July 2005 and has since garnered widespread support around the globe. The objective is to ensure that Israel respects its obligations under international law and that Palestinians are granted the right to self-determination.
In Bilbao, Spain, in 2008, a coalition of organizations from all over the world formulated the 10-point Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions campaign meant to pressure Israel in a "gradual, sustainable manner that is sensitive to context and capacity." For example, the effort begins with sanctions on and divestment from Israeli firms operating in the occupied territories, followed by actions against those that help sustain and reinforce the occupation in a visible manner. Along similar lines, artists who come to Israel in order to draw attention to the occupation are welcome, while those who just want to perform are not.
Nothing else has worked. Putting massive international pressure on Israel is the only way to guarantee that the next generation of Israelis and Palestinians -- my two boys included -- does not grow up in an apartheid regime.
Neve Gordon is the author of "Israel's Occupation" and teaches politics at Ben-Gurion University in Beersheba, Israel.
Copyright © 2009, The Los Angeles Times
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Op-Ed Contributors
The Two-State Solution Doesn’t Solve Anything
THE two-state solution has welcomed two converts. In recent weeks, Benjamin Netanyahu, the Israeli prime minister, and Khaled Meshal, the head of Hamas’s political bureau, have indicated they now accept what they had long rejected. This nearly unanimous consensus is the surest sign to date that the two-state solution has become void of meaning, a catchphrase divorced from the contentious issues it is supposed to resolve. Everyone can say yes because saying yes no longer says much, and saying no has become too costly. Acceptance of the two-state solution signals continuation of the Israeli-Palestinian struggle by other means.
Bowing to American pressure, Mr. Netanyahu conceded the principle of a Palestinian state, but then described it in a way that stripped it of meaningful sovereignty. In essence, and with minor modifications, his position recalled that of Israeli leaders who preceded him. A state, he pronounced, would have to be demilitarized, without control over borders or airspace. Jerusalem would remain under Israeli sovereignty, and no Palestinian refugees would be allowed back to Israel. His emphasis was on the caveats rather than the concession.
As Mr. Netanyahu was fond of saying, you can call that a state if you wish, but whom are you kidding?
As for Hamas, recognition of the state of Israel has always been and remains taboo. Until recently, the movement had hinted it might acquiesce to Israel’s de facto existence and resign itself to establishing a Palestinian state in the West Bank and Gaza. This sentiment has now grown from hint to certitude.
President Obama’s June address in Cairo provoked among Hamas leaders a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. The American president criticized the movement but did not couple his mention of Hamas with the term terrorism, his recitation of the prerequisites for engagement bore the sound of a door cracked open rather than one slammed shut, and his acknowledgment that the Islamists enjoyed the support of some Palestinians was grudging but charitable by American standards. All of which was promising but also foreboding, prompting reflection within the Hamas movement over how to escape international confinement without betraying core beliefs.
The result of this deliberation was Hamas’s message that it would adhere to the internationally accepted wisdom — a Palestinian state within the borders of 1967, the year Israel occupied the West Bank and Gaza. Hamas also coupled its concession with caveats aplenty, demanding full Israeli withdrawal, full Palestinian sovereignty and respect for the refugees’ rights. In this, there was little to distinguish its position from conventional Palestinian attitudes.
The dueling discourses speak to something far deeper than and separate from Palestinian statehood. Mr. Netanyahu underscores that Israel must be recognized as a Jewish state — and recalls that the conflict began before the West Bank or Gaza were occupied. Palestinians, in turn, reject recognition of Israel as a Jewish state, uphold the refugees’ rights and maintain that if Israel wants real closure, it will need to pay with more than mere statehood.
The exchange, for the first time in a long while, brings the conflict back to its historical roots, distills its political essence and touches its raw emotional core. It can be settled, both sides implicitly concur, only by looking past the occupation to questions born in 1948 — Arab rejection of the newborn Jewish state and the dispossession and dislocation of Palestinian refugees.
Both positions enjoy broad support within their respective communities. Few Israelis quarrel with the insistence that Israel be recognized as a Jewish state. It encapsulates their profound aspiration, rooted in the history of the Jewish people, for a fully accepted presence in the land of their forebears — for an end to Arab questioning of Israel’s legitimacy, the specter of the Palestinian refugees’ return and any irredentist sentiment among Israel’s Arab citizens.
Even fewer Palestinians take issue with the categorical rebuff of that demand, as the recent Fatah congress in Bethlehem confirmed. In their eyes, to accept Israel as a Jewish state would legitimize the Zionist enterprise that brought about their tragedy. It would render the Palestinian national struggle at best meaningless, at worst criminal. Their firmness on the principle of their right of return flows from the belief that the 1948 war led to unjust displacement and that, whether or not refugees choose or are allowed to return to their homes, they can never be deprived of that natural right. The modern Palestinian national movement, embodied in the Palestine Liberation Organization, has been, above all, a refugee movement — led by refugees and focused on their plight.
Its easy to wince at these stands. They run against the grain of a peace process whose central premise is that ending the occupation and establishing a viable Palestinian state will bring this matter to a close. But to recall the origins of the Israeli-Palestinian clash is not to invent a new battle line. It is to resurrect an old one that did not disappear simply because powerful parties acted for some time as if it had ceased to exist.
Over the past two decades, the origins of the conflict were swept under the carpet, gradually repressed as the struggle assumed the narrower shape of the post-1967 territorial tug-of-war over the West Bank and Gaza. The two protagonists, each for its own reason, along with the international community, implicitly agreed to deal with the battle’s latest, most palpable expression. Palestinians saw an opportunity to finally exercise authority over a part of their patrimony; Israelis wanted to free themselves from the burdens of occupation; and foreign parties found that it was the easier, tidier thing to do. The hope was that, somehow, addressing the status of the West Bank and Gaza would dispense with the need to address the issues that predated the occupation and could outlast it.
That so many attempts to resolve the conflict have failed is reason to be wary. It is almost as if the parties, whenever they inch toward an artful compromise over the realities of the present, are inexorably drawn back to the ghosts of the past. It is hard today to imagine a resolution that does not entail two states. But two states may not be a true resolution if the roots of this clash are ignored. The ultimate territorial outcome almost certainly will be found within the borders of 1967. To be sustainable, it will need to grapple with matters left over since 1948. The first step will be to recognize that in the hearts and minds of Israelis and Palestinians, the fundamental question is not about the details of an apparently practical solution. It is an existential struggle between two worldviews.
For years, virtually all attention has been focused on the question of a future Palestinian state, its borders and powers. As Israelis make plain by talking about the imperative of a Jewish state, and as Palestinians highlight when they evoke the refugees’ rights, the heart of the matter is not necessarily how to define a state of Palestine. It is, as in a sense it always has been, how to define the state of Israel.
Hussein Agha is a co-author, with Ahmed S. Khalidi, of “A Framework for a Palestinian National Security Doctrine.” Robert Malley, the director of the Middle East Program at the International Crisis Group, was a special assistant for Arab-Israeli affairs to President Bill Clinton from 1998 to 2001.
The Two-State Solution Doesn’t Solve Anything
THE two-state solution has welcomed two converts. In recent weeks, Benjamin Netanyahu, the Israeli prime minister, and Khaled Meshal, the head of Hamas’s political bureau, have indicated they now accept what they had long rejected. This nearly unanimous consensus is the surest sign to date that the two-state solution has become void of meaning, a catchphrase divorced from the contentious issues it is supposed to resolve. Everyone can say yes because saying yes no longer says much, and saying no has become too costly. Acceptance of the two-state solution signals continuation of the Israeli-Palestinian struggle by other means.
Bowing to American pressure, Mr. Netanyahu conceded the principle of a Palestinian state, but then described it in a way that stripped it of meaningful sovereignty. In essence, and with minor modifications, his position recalled that of Israeli leaders who preceded him. A state, he pronounced, would have to be demilitarized, without control over borders or airspace. Jerusalem would remain under Israeli sovereignty, and no Palestinian refugees would be allowed back to Israel. His emphasis was on the caveats rather than the concession.
As Mr. Netanyahu was fond of saying, you can call that a state if you wish, but whom are you kidding?
As for Hamas, recognition of the state of Israel has always been and remains taboo. Until recently, the movement had hinted it might acquiesce to Israel’s de facto existence and resign itself to establishing a Palestinian state in the West Bank and Gaza. This sentiment has now grown from hint to certitude.
President Obama’s June address in Cairo provoked among Hamas leaders a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. The American president criticized the movement but did not couple his mention of Hamas with the term terrorism, his recitation of the prerequisites for engagement bore the sound of a door cracked open rather than one slammed shut, and his acknowledgment that the Islamists enjoyed the support of some Palestinians was grudging but charitable by American standards. All of which was promising but also foreboding, prompting reflection within the Hamas movement over how to escape international confinement without betraying core beliefs.
The result of this deliberation was Hamas’s message that it would adhere to the internationally accepted wisdom — a Palestinian state within the borders of 1967, the year Israel occupied the West Bank and Gaza. Hamas also coupled its concession with caveats aplenty, demanding full Israeli withdrawal, full Palestinian sovereignty and respect for the refugees’ rights. In this, there was little to distinguish its position from conventional Palestinian attitudes.
The dueling discourses speak to something far deeper than and separate from Palestinian statehood. Mr. Netanyahu underscores that Israel must be recognized as a Jewish state — and recalls that the conflict began before the West Bank or Gaza were occupied. Palestinians, in turn, reject recognition of Israel as a Jewish state, uphold the refugees’ rights and maintain that if Israel wants real closure, it will need to pay with more than mere statehood.
The exchange, for the first time in a long while, brings the conflict back to its historical roots, distills its political essence and touches its raw emotional core. It can be settled, both sides implicitly concur, only by looking past the occupation to questions born in 1948 — Arab rejection of the newborn Jewish state and the dispossession and dislocation of Palestinian refugees.
Both positions enjoy broad support within their respective communities. Few Israelis quarrel with the insistence that Israel be recognized as a Jewish state. It encapsulates their profound aspiration, rooted in the history of the Jewish people, for a fully accepted presence in the land of their forebears — for an end to Arab questioning of Israel’s legitimacy, the specter of the Palestinian refugees’ return and any irredentist sentiment among Israel’s Arab citizens.
Even fewer Palestinians take issue with the categorical rebuff of that demand, as the recent Fatah congress in Bethlehem confirmed. In their eyes, to accept Israel as a Jewish state would legitimize the Zionist enterprise that brought about their tragedy. It would render the Palestinian national struggle at best meaningless, at worst criminal. Their firmness on the principle of their right of return flows from the belief that the 1948 war led to unjust displacement and that, whether or not refugees choose or are allowed to return to their homes, they can never be deprived of that natural right. The modern Palestinian national movement, embodied in the Palestine Liberation Organization, has been, above all, a refugee movement — led by refugees and focused on their plight.
Its easy to wince at these stands. They run against the grain of a peace process whose central premise is that ending the occupation and establishing a viable Palestinian state will bring this matter to a close. But to recall the origins of the Israeli-Palestinian clash is not to invent a new battle line. It is to resurrect an old one that did not disappear simply because powerful parties acted for some time as if it had ceased to exist.
Over the past two decades, the origins of the conflict were swept under the carpet, gradually repressed as the struggle assumed the narrower shape of the post-1967 territorial tug-of-war over the West Bank and Gaza. The two protagonists, each for its own reason, along with the international community, implicitly agreed to deal with the battle’s latest, most palpable expression. Palestinians saw an opportunity to finally exercise authority over a part of their patrimony; Israelis wanted to free themselves from the burdens of occupation; and foreign parties found that it was the easier, tidier thing to do. The hope was that, somehow, addressing the status of the West Bank and Gaza would dispense with the need to address the issues that predated the occupation and could outlast it.
That so many attempts to resolve the conflict have failed is reason to be wary. It is almost as if the parties, whenever they inch toward an artful compromise over the realities of the present, are inexorably drawn back to the ghosts of the past. It is hard today to imagine a resolution that does not entail two states. But two states may not be a true resolution if the roots of this clash are ignored. The ultimate territorial outcome almost certainly will be found within the borders of 1967. To be sustainable, it will need to grapple with matters left over since 1948. The first step will be to recognize that in the hearts and minds of Israelis and Palestinians, the fundamental question is not about the details of an apparently practical solution. It is an existential struggle between two worldviews.
For years, virtually all attention has been focused on the question of a future Palestinian state, its borders and powers. As Israelis make plain by talking about the imperative of a Jewish state, and as Palestinians highlight when they evoke the refugees’ rights, the heart of the matter is not necessarily how to define a state of Palestine. It is, as in a sense it always has been, how to define the state of Israel.
Hussein Agha is a co-author, with Ahmed S. Khalidi, of “A Framework for a Palestinian National Security Doctrine.” Robert Malley, the director of the Middle East Program at the International Crisis Group, was a special assistant for Arab-Israeli affairs to President Bill Clinton from 1998 to 2001.
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