Shaping reality: a visit to Jerusalem - Editorial

Christian Century, Dec 7, 1994 by James M. Wall

WHEN CHRISTIANS and Jews approach the topic of Israel and Palestine, they tend either to argue vociferously on the basis of ancient assumptions or evade the topic altogether with polite conversation. Either way, there is very little honest exchange. The Jewish philosopher Martin Buber maintained that only through the "I-thou" encounter would Palestinians and Jews find a way to talk and not fight. Paul Mendes-Flohr, a professor of Jewish thought at Jerusalem's Hebrew University, writes that for Buber it was essential to find a "radically new mode of discourse." According to Buber's vision of dialogue, writes Mendes-Flohr, Jews and Palestinians must "tell their respective tales--relating their history, with all it woes and hopes ... while acknowledging and compassionately confirming the tale of the other." Such a dialogue would acknowledge "that the other who confronts us, who 'encroaches' upon our life, also has a tale, a story perhaps no less compelling, certainly no less real, than one's own, to tell."

In the U.S. the Israeli story is heard more clearly than that of the Palestinians. As an occupying power since 1967, Israel has done what any dominant power would do to shape perceptions. It "creates facts" to bolster its version of reality.

Edward Said points out another reason that the U.S. media accept the Israeli viewpoint: Israel's story in some ways seems to fit with the American story. In "The Formation of American Public Opinion on the Question of Palestine," Said, a Palestinian scholar, maintains that because the U.S. is such a diverse culture, Americans desire some commonality and expect the media to provide us with that commonality. Our common experience as a people who "conquered the western frontier" makes us tend to identify "with foreign societies or cultures projecting a pioneering spirit (e.g., Israel), with those who are wresting the land from ill-use or from savages." At the same time, "Americans often mistrust or do not have much interest in traditional cultures, even those in the throes of revolutionary renewal." Thus, contends Said, a national viewpoint emerges that regards Israel as our "Western" ally with a pioneering spirit, and regards Arab culture as backward and incapable of governing itself under a democracy.

Political leaders pay a price for shaping reality, however. They must live with the consequences. Exhausted with the intifada's toll on Israeli morale and military credibility, Israel suddenly agreed to move toward making Palestine a legitimate state. But Israel still appears determined to undermine Yasir Arafat. It treats him as an ineffective leader who has failed to control a rebellious population. In Gaza, Israel is in effect asking Arafat to do what Israel could not do: put down an angry population of refugees crowded into slums created by the absence of any social or economic development.

In yet another irony of recent history, Israel admits that it made a mistake by "encouraging" internal Palestinian opposition among religious extremists. While in Israel last month I asked a foreign-ministry spokesman about Israel's support for extremists in the mid-1980s. He readily agreed that in its desire to undermine Arafat the government had helped in the formation of the two radical Islamic groups, Hamas and Islamic Jihad. These are the groups now threatening to undermine the peace process and destabilize Arafat's role, and they are committing acts of violence against Israel. Since it was in the same office of the foreign ministry that I was informed eight years ago that I should "pay attention" to the religious figures who offered an alternative to Arafat, this briefing felt like a journey to Alice's Wonderland.

Another version of reality Israel continues to put forth involves the future of Jerusalem. So eager is Israel to maintain control over East Jerusalem that officials are looking for ways to downplay the importance of the New Orient House. This prominent Arab landmark and former Turkish hotel in East Jerusalem functions as headquarters for the Palestinian peace negotiation team. Israel's fear is that the center will begin to serve as an official reception point for diplomatic visitors and thereby assume governmental status in East Jerusalem. These fears were realized recently when the prime minister of Turkey insisted on visiting New Orient House to pay her respects to Faisal Husseini, Arafat's representative in East Jerusalem. Her visit provoked a loud cry from conservative Israeli politicians who want to close down the center and thus avoid any suggestion that the Palestinians might some day officially be in charge of East Jerusalem--what is obviously an Arab city.

Israel consistently plays the religious card to lay claim to the city of Jerusalem. The official word is that since Jerusalem is "sacred" to the Jewish people, the expansion of the city's borders during the occupation is both understandable from a religious perspective and essential for security purposes. Neither claim is true. (The same foreign-ministry official who regrets the encouragement of Muslim extremists also acknowledged that the gulf war taught Israel that territory is not nearly as crucial for defense as was once believed.) The housing projects built around East Jerusalem during the occupation are unrelated to any Jewish religious sites; they are built on Palestinian farmland officially "purchased" or otherwise lifted from absentee owners.