Last-Ditch
Myths Of The Zionist Left
By Stephen Langfur
14 May, 2007
The
Challenge
From
its beginning, the State of Israel has existed in a cleft stick between
the concepts "Jewish state" and "democracy." Every
now and then something happens to bring the cleft into focus. Presently,
it is the ruckus around border-crossing Azmi Bishara, charged with espionage
and treason, who resigned from the Knesset on April 22, 2007. "Bishara's
case," wrote Uzi Benziman in Haaretz eleven days earlier, "highlights
the crossroads that relations between Jews and Arabs inside the Green
Line have hit."
The turning point in those
relations, according to Benziman, was the formulation of Arab position
papers such as The
Future Vision of the Palestinian Arabs in Israel , discussed
elsewhere in this issue. "In practice," he continued, "these
documents lay the ideological foundation for the uprising of the Arab
Israelis against their state."
If the state is theirs, why
indeed should they rise against it? But if it is not, why shouldn't
they? And if it is Jewish, how can it be theirs?
Benziman is no right-winger.
As an author and Haaretz columnist, he favors an end to the Occupation
in return for peace. He has spoken truth to power. But his leftward
reach stops at the Jewish state. This is one of his "red lines."
He shares it with many, perhaps most, of the Israeli Left. Our theme
will concern the justice or injustice of this red line.
Jewish and democratic?
Later in the same article
Benziman writes: "Arab Knesset members have an important function
in representing their constituents, on the one hand, and conducting
themselves within the rules of the game of a democratic state, which
is also their country, on the other." [My italics—SL.]
What are "the rules
of the game of a democratic state"? By way of analogy, consider
the rules of chess. Let's pretend they are limited to the kinds of moves
the pieces are permitted to make. Apply that kind of thinking to Israeli
democracy: "Each citizen 18 or over is allowed to vote." "The
party that can muster a parliamentary majority gets to form a government."
These are rules like those that govern the moves in chess. Call them
procedural rules. If such suffice to constitute a democracy, then Israel
is a democracy.
We sit down to play chess.
I am White, you are Black. We place our pieces on the board, but suddenly
I stop you: "No, no," I say, "you are not allowed a Queen."
"What?" "No, I'm sorry. Black is not allowed a Queen.
This is a White game." So you place your pieces on the board, omitting
your Queen. "Now," I continue, "let's play our little
game of chess."
The question of Israeli democracy
is a question of how far the rules of equality extend. Their extension
is limited by the insistence on a Jewish state. The Black Queen that
is not allowed on the board is Arab immigration. (We could name, to
the same effect, the expulsions of 1948.) In order (1) to have a Jewish
state and (2) to play "the game of a democratic state," I
must ensure a Jewish majority. This necessitates that I open the gates
of my state wide to the kin of one constituency while shutting them
almost hermetically to the kin of the other. In that case, do the two
constituencies have equal rights? Inside the borders, yes, as within
the frame of the chessboard. But at the borders, no. If we disregard
the unequal framework within which the game is played, it appears to
proceed by the rules.
The ensuring of a Jewish
majority is not merely one item among others in a list of inequalities.
It goes a long way, though not the whole way, toward explaining other
inequalities. For within the tilted frame, Israel does play the democratic
game. This includes political parties competing for votes. Parties that
compete for the votes of the Jewish majority, once in power, will naturally
put Jewish interests first, if for no other motive than that they want
to be re-elected. This is one reason (again, not the only one) why there
are virtually no industrial areas in Arab localities, why the tax bases
are small, why the localities are overcrowded without prospect of future
space, why there are no playgrounds, why the Arab unemployment rate
is higher than the Jewish, why Arab per capita income is less than half
the Jewish, why more Arab kids drop out of school, why Arabs die younger.
An observer of the chess
game, arriving late, would probably assume that Black had lost his Queen.
Most Israelis are latecomers. They were born into a game already in
progress. They assume it is fair. And it is, within its framework. The
framework itself is unfair, but it is so much a part of the given situation
that few notice it. We are immersed in the game.
"Jewish and democratic":
the phrase flows trippingly off the tongue. Google it in quotes: you
will discover 57,500 web pages, including Yossi Beilin's: "We are
aware of the pressing need to find practical solutions in many areas
of life, while strengthening the Zionist, Jewish and democratic character
of the state…"(www.beilin.org.il/Eng/ReligonState/covenanteng.html)
One who does see the cleft
in the stick is jurist Ruth Gavison, former president of ACRI (the Association
for Civil Rights in Israel): "One of the fraudulent things about
the Israeli-Jewish left is the statement that yes, there will be equality.
There will not be equality. There will be dispute." (1)
Forcibly exiled?
In the article I have quoted
from April 11, Benziman also touches on the question of whether the
existence of Israel as a Jewish state is morally justified. He writes,
"In contrast with the Palestinian-Arab discourse on the history
of the conflict, there is a just Israeli version that presents the efforts
of the remnants of a small nation to hold on to its homeland and reach,
without success, a compromise with its Arab neighbors."
Benziman appears to assume
that his readers will know what he means by a "just Israeli version."
I suspect that he means this first of all: Having suffered terribly
in exile, the Jewish people needs and deserves a place where it can
live in safety with self-determination. In the late 19th and the 20th
centuries, self-determination required some form of statehood. The problem,
of course, was "Where?"
The problem arose because
of a strange historical fact: the Jewish people had maintained its identity
through millennia of dispersion. Dispersed peoples don't generally behave
like that. They politely assimilate, and others fill the vacuum they
have left. (2
)
Here was a historical exception,
a people without a place. And when finally its national movement began,
all places were taken.
The Jewish people's claim
to statehood might be justified by its endurance and the persecutions,
but statehood requires a place. Was there a place where a state could
be justly established?
The Jewish national movement
chose Palestine, which it called "Zion," claiming that in
this particular place, the biblical homeland, it could justly establish
a state. This claim was based on a historical falsehood that I shall
now attempt to expose.
Suppose someone throws you
and your people out of the land you are living in, land which you yourself
took over many years before. You become refugees. Years go by, and at
last you get the chance to return. You discover that other people are
living there. Do you have a just claim to the land? Certainly. You were
forcibly exiled. The new tenants have a claim too, so you will have
to work out an arrangement.
Now let us take a different
case. Suppose you leave the same land without compulsion and migrate
to another in search of better opportunities. Years later you decide
to return, but other people are living there. Do you have a just claim
to the land? Certainly not: you weren't forced to leave it; you chose
to. Do you have a right to evict the people who are living there? Most
certainly not.
Which of these is the Israeli
case? I'll bet that the vast majority of Israeli Jews would say the
first. The notion is enshrined in the second paragraph of the Declaration
of Independence:
"After being forcibly
exiled from their land (l'achar sheh-huglah ha'am m'artzo b'koach ha-zroah),
the people kept faith with it throughout their Dispersion and never
ceased to pray and hope for their return to it and for the restoration
in it of their political freedom."
When were the Jews ever "forcibly
exiled from their land"? By the Babylonians, of course, in 586
BCE, but 48 years later Cyrus of Persia let them return. Some did, but
many chose not to. "A considerable number of exiles decided to
remain in Babylonia…Apparently, these exiles had struck roots
in Babylon and their economic situation was sound." (3)
That forced exile, then, reached a happy ending long ago. It cannot
be the exile to which the Declaration is referring.
There was no other forced
exile of the Jewish people from this land. It is strange to find such
a blatant falsehood in the founding document of a state, but it was
necessary because otherwise there would have been no justification for
establishing the state in this place.
Go to the Diaspora Museum
in Tel Aviv. The first exhibit is a reproduction of the Arch of Titus;
on it we see a Roman procession bearing the candelabrum, menorah, from
the Jerusalem temple, which Titus destroyed in 70 CE while quelling
the first great Jewish revolt. Israel copied the menorah as it appears
on the arch and used it in its official emblem. The government tourist
website (www.tourism.gov.il
) provides an explanation:
"The Menora of the Temple
in Jerusalem engraved on the Titus Gate symbolizes not only the illustrious
past of the people of Israel, but also its defeat and the beginning
of its Exile. So, the choice of this specific Menora [for the emblem—SL]
not only linked the new State to its illustrious past – it also,
so to speak, brought the Menora back from its long Exile, thus indirectly
symbolizing the end of the Diaspora." (My italics.—SL).
Did Titus carry the Jewish
people away from its land together with the menorah? Was this "the
beginning of its Exile"? No. The Jews remained, taking instruction
from a newly established rabbinical academy at Yavneh (Jabneh) on the
coast south of Jaffa. "The Jewish people in the Land of Israel
was not reduced to total devastation. …The population had to a
remarkable degree recovered its numeric and economic strength by the
end of the first century," that is, within 30 years. (4)
Long before the destruction
of the temple, Jews had been living elsewhere as well. Some of these
Diaspora Jews rebelled against the Roman emperor Trajan in 115. The
uprising had scarcely been crushed when it flared up again in Judea
under Bar Kokhba. All the revolts against Rome, I should mention, were
principally motivated by the conviction that the end-time was at hand
and God would step in to provide victory.
The Emperor Hadrian put down
the Bar Kokhba revolt, and he banished the Jews from Jerusalem. (They
were not permitted to live in the city for 300 years, until the Muslims
defeated the Byzantines and let them return.) The war had cost the Romans
dearly, and Hadrian punished in kind. Bar Kokhba's top rabbinical supporters
were executed. Many rebels were sold as slaves. The land's name was
changed to Palaestina. Hadrian's successor, however, allowed Jews to
resume their community life, and their center shifted to Galilee. Here
the Mishnah was committed to writing around 200 CE, followed by a version
of the Talmud. The Jews built more than a hundred synagogues, many of
which date to the sixth century, some to the seventh or eighth. Their
ruins are still visible.
Where in all that
is a forced exile?
The strange thing is, Israelis
know these facts. They learn them in school. On their vacations, they
visit the remains of ancient synagogues and the graves of the rabbis.
They have before them, constantly, the evidence of a large and continuous
Jewish presence well into the eighth century. They eagerly unearth this
evidence in order to show how long they were present in the land, for
they think this bolsters their claim to it. The evidence exists side
by side in their minds, quite comfortably, with the belief that it contradicts:
the belief in a forced exile.
But if there was no forced
exile, what led the number of Jews in the land to dwindle? First, most
were farmers. After the Muslims took over in 638, the taxes they levied
made farming unprofitable—especially for Jews and Christians,
who had to pay a special land tax. (In addition, Jewish farmers in the
rabbinically-defined land of Israel suffered from a special burden imposed
by the biblical commandments, which were still thought to be in force.
In each seven-year cycle, they had to give away part of their produce
for six years and let the land lie fallow in the seventh.)
Throughout the new Islamic
realm, there was a general migration from farm to city. When the Abbasids
took over in 750, they shifted the center of Islamic rule from Damascus
to Baghdad. "Jund Filastin" became an economic backwater.
This was the turning point for Jewish emigration from the land. Many
urban-bound Jews moved eastward to the prosperous Baghdad area or south
to the cities of North Africa. That is, they chose to stay under Islamic
rule. Many others departed for the cities of Europe.
This picture corresponds
more closely to that of people who leave their land without being compelled
to do so, in search of better opportunities, than it does to the picture
of people who are forcibly exiled.
Forced exile is the kind
of thing that happened to the Jews of Spain in 1492 and to 718,000 Palestinians
in 1948.
Is there then no other footing
by which we may justify a Jewish state in this land? We come back to
the persecutions, the Holocaust. The heart cries out for a place where
Jews can live in safety and self-determination. But there can be no
safety in a state established by conquest and confiscation. There is
certainly no safety for Jews in the present Jewish state.
And so we arrive once more
at the strange contradiction at the heart of the Israeli-Palestinian
conflict: Although their history of persecution and endurance has given
the Jews a just claim to a state, they have no just claim to a place.
At least not this place.
Europeans, not Palestinians, perpetrated the persecutions. Why should
the Palestinians have to pay the price for what Europeans did to the
Jews?
The heart cries out, but
there are other hearts too. If you wish to justify a Jewish state in
this land, supply counter-arguments to those presented here. Show me
a forced exile. Or tell me why the Palestinians ought to pay for the
Nazi genocide.
It is wrong to seek compensation
for one evil by committing another. This principle holds for what the
Israelis did and continue to do the Palestinians. The same principle
holds for the future. The Jews who live in Israel today, most of whom
have nowhere else to go, have every right to remain in peace. By the
arguments made above, however, this right does not include the right
to a Jewish state here.
The only path that remains
open, except catastrophe, requires the recognition of evils done and
a quest for reconciliation. It has already been shown in South Africa,
where such a thing was once unimaginable, that reconciliation can take
place. There can be no beginning of hope, however, until the persons
to whom we look for hope give up their smudged red lines.
The Population of Palestine: 1860-1948
According to Justin McCarthy's
studies of Ottoman records, Palestine west of the Jordan held 411,000
Arabs in 1860 and 533,000 in 1890. In 1914-15, after the first waves
of Jewish immigration, there were 738,000 Palestinian Arabs and 60,000
Jews (McCarthy disputes Arthur Ruppin's figure of 85,000). The British
census of 1922 showed a total of 823,684, including 638,407 Muslims;
81,361 Christians; 7,830 Druze; and 93,360 Jews.
Dispelling the notion
that the economic stimulation provided by Jews attracted Arab immigration,
McCarthy found that few Arabs migrated permanently to Palestine between
1860 and 1948. Their increase was due almost entirely to natural growth.
(Until recently the average Palestinian woman had seven children, the
highest fertility rate in the world.) Furthermore, the Arab population
grew most in areas of low Jewish population and least in areas of high
Jewish population. See Justin McCarthy, The Population of Palestine:
Population Statistics of the Late Ottoman Period and the Mandate, New
York: Columbia University Press, 1990. Also www.palestineremembered.comAcre/
Palestine-Remembered/Story559.html
The influx of Jewish refugees from Europe during the 1930's and 40's
brought the number of Jews in Palestine (according to Israel's Central
Bureau of Statistics) to 650,000 in 1948 - when the Declaration of Independence
was proclaimed. By that year the country's Arab population was 1,358,000,
of whom 873,600 lived within what were to be the borders of Israel.
Then war broke out. Of the 873,600, some 718,000 became refugees.
Endnotes
1 Quoted by Tom Segev in
Haaretz Nov. 22, 2006, reviewing Uzi Benziman, ed., Whose Land Is It?
(Shel mi haaretz hazot, Israel Democracy Institute, 2006.
2 The fact that Jews did
not assimilate was a major motive for the hatred against them. Part
of Nazi belief, for instance, (rooted in German popular culture from
the 19th century) was that a Volk is mystically bound to its earth.
Yet here was a people that had maintained its identity for thousands
of years without a land of its own. The existence of the Jews was a
slap in the face to the Nazi myth of Blut und Erde. (See George Mosse,
The Crisis of German Ideology: Intellectual Origins of the Third Reich,
1964.)
3 H.H. Ben-Sasson, ed., A
History of the Jewish People, Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press,
1976, p. 168. The original Hebrew version from 1969 has long been a
standard text in Israel. ]
4 Ben-Sasson, op. cit., p. 314.
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