My real AIES experience started about a week and a half ago.
In the first two weeks our group had managed to talk about almost every single
topic imaginable – music, movies, sports, the environment, sex, drugs, religion,
philosophy – except the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. However, two and a half weeks
in Muhaned, a Palestinian, decided to start the conversation by hosting a
screening of the documentary Occupation
101 in the student lounge. At the end of an hour and a half film that was targeted
to affect your conscience by portraying the moral and humanitarian issues of
the living conditions resulting from occupation in the West Bank and Gaza
Strip, everyone was in a period of in a momentary reflection. What a heavy tone
to set for the semester. What have we gotten ourselves into? Was this what the
rest of the semester was going to be like? Never has the group been so quiet.
We slowly regrouped, and after a few laughs, we drifted into
several different groups and began discussing and debating the film, its
perspective, and the issues discussed in the film. Over the next two hours we
moved from deconstructing the film’s bias and debating the implications of this
bias to whether a two-state solution would be feasible, or even desirable.
At one point we were discussing the implications of the ways
in which the film portrayed the West Bank. Raphe, an American, brought up a very
good point: he felt that the film portrayed the Palestinians as defenseless
people, as victims incapable of self-determination. “If you portray them like
victims, people will treat them like victims. If you want to convince the world
that they deserve to be an independent state, you need to show that they are a
proud and cultured people capable of controlling their political decisions.”
For me, this was an especially poignant point because
earlier that day I had read a Chronicle
article on the return of Israeli Apartheid Week to Duke University (The Chronicle is Duke’s student newspaper).
Last spring, Duke Students for Justice in Palestine (DSJP) brought Israeli
Apartheid Week, a national campaign, to Duke’s campus with the intention of
creating productive dialogue on campus on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and
the occupation. Unfortunately, most of the resulting dialogue focused on
debating whether the term “Apartheid” was appropriate.
There are several problems that I have with the way DSJP
functions (including a dislike for their use of the term “apartheid” to
describe the Israeli-Palestinian situation), but there was one I wasn’t able to
pinpoint until Raphe spoke about victimization. DSJP – and much of the left-wing
literature I have been exposed to – focuses on this perception of victimization
with the intent of making the outsider feel sympathetic and, to an extent, guilty.
It evokes the questions, “it’s it terrible that there are people living like
this?” and “isn’t it terrible that these conditions are being inflicted on a
people under occupation?” and “can you really support a government (i.e. the
Israeli government) that does this?”
I firmly agree that these questions need to be raised and
that these issues need to be addressed, but I have begun to question the way
this issue has been presented by the left wing. I have only seen this
sympathy-inducing tactic. It is an effective approach, but it’s far from
holistic. There is never a discussion of politics, of practicality, of terrorism;
just how bad civilian life is on the Palestinian side.
To that end, the Arava Institute is definitely left wing. Our
Peace-Building course, and our out-of-class conversations, have focused on
personal narratives—have focused on the personal experiences of those individuals
living on all sides of the occupation—and on reacting to those narratives. I
don’t meant to discount personal narratives; on the contrary, I think
understanding personal narratives is a necessary step in the peace-building
process. However, this focus on personal narrative means that the focus of
discussion is on the experiences of civilians and, based on my experiences at the
Arava Institute so far, mostly of Palestinians.
But what about the Israeli experience? Since arriving here,
nobody has talked about losing someone in a terrorist attack; nobody has talked
about growing up with a fear that if you get on a bus, you might be blown up;
nobody has talked about the right of Israeli citizens to a right of physical
security; nobody has talked about the actions of Hamas and Fatah, either in
regard to their terrorist activities or in regard to their responsiveness (or
lack their of) to their populaces. I feel like the closest we’ve come to
discussing these issues has been when I rant about the fact that no one talks
about these issues.
Recognizing the (Jewish) Israeli experience does not
delegitimize the Palestinian reality. Conversely, recognizing the Palestinian
reality does not delegitimize the Israeli experience, or for that matter, the validity
of Israel’s existence. On that note, it is possible to be both pro-Palestinian
and pro-Israeli. I’m going to say that again: it is possible to be both
pro-Palestinian and pro-Israeli. However, in practice it sometimes seems that it
is very easy to cross what seems like a fine line between being pro-Palestinian
and, in fact, being anti-Israeli.
Since our ‘night on occupation’ started discussion on the
conflict, our AIES Facebook page has become a forum for sharing video clips and
news articles. Videos and articles have been appearing in the group over the
past few days with the apparent aim of raising awareness of institutionalized
anti-Palestinian sentiment: Israeli police clash with Palestinians at worship
at Al-Aqsa Mosque; an Israeli solider hit a Palestinian woman; Israeli army
dogs are being trained to attack any Arab who says “Allah Akbar” (“God is
great”).
One student commented on the one-sided nature of this discourse:
“Why is this Facebook group dominated by pro Palestinian and anti Israeli
clips???” The response? “This is the AIES way. Just shut up and hate Israel
already.” This was, of course, meant – and understood – as a joke. (In its
philosophy, AIES is fairly neutral and, I would argue, manages to walk the fine
line of being both pro-Palestinian and pro-Israeli.) However, this back-and-forth
highlights just how fine the line between pro-Palestinian and anti-Israel
sentiment is and how easy it is to cross – or to be perceived as crossing –
that line.
I hope that our debate continues at this level of passion
and engagement, but that all sides are given the same weight and respect as I
have seen thus far for the Palestinian cause. Without question, the Palestinian
narrative needs to, and must, be both heard and understood, but it is still
only one side of the story.
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At some point I began talking about the politics of the
occupation: settlements as detrimental to the peace process; the current paradox
of maintaining Israel as both a Jewish and fully democratic state; the desire
for an independent Palestine and the differences between being pro-Palestine
and anti-Israel. I felt like I kept coming up against a wall, so I kept on with
the “pro-Palestinian” argument.
