Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Technocrats and Populists: Who Trusts the People? By Ben Domenech.

Technocrats and Populists: Who Trusts the People? By Ben Domenech. Real Clear Politics, August 13, 2013.

Liberals and “libertarian populists” are wrong: politics isn’t a zero-sum fight between corporations and the poor. By Ezra Klein. Washington Post, August 12, 2013. Also here.

In Search of a More Populist GOP. By Stephanie Slade. U.S. News and World Report, August 14, 2013.

What Is Libertarian Populism? By Conn Carroll. NJBR August 8, 2013. With related articles.

Democrats Have Become the Party of Concentrated Elite Power. By Yuval Levin. NJBR, July 31, 2013. With related articles.

The “Country Party” and the “Court Party.” By Ross Douthat. NJBR, July 28, 2013. With related articles and links to NJBR posts on libertarian populism.

GOP must woo working people chasing the American dream. By Timothy P. Carney. Washington Examiner, November 7, 2012.


Domenech:

I appreciate Ezra Klein’s engagement with libertarian populism, and what he views as a fraudulent perspective from the populists on the left and right. But I have a few issues with his analysis. First, I’ve seen nothing from the small cadre of libertarian populist writers out there that suggests life in America’s economy today is a zero sum game, or that bigness alone is the cause of all ills. The problem is not the bigness of the corporate Bigs – it’s that they have partnered with Big Government to insulate themselves from competition, socialize risk, and warp the marketplace in their favor by building “bigger moats,” to use Jamie Dimon’s phrase, around themselves. This exacerbates many existing problems and, in fact, inhibits the kind of economic growth that takes us out of zero-sum politics.
 
To pick one example totally at random, consider Jeff Bezos’s Amazon and their shift in support for an internet sales tax. Is the problem with Amazon that it’s big? Of course not. I love Amazon as a consumer, and their bigness in the past week allowed them to bring me some tasty macadamia nuts, a new watch, a new book by Jay Richards, and a streaming David Fincher film. What’s the problem with Amazon? Well, Amazon opposed the internet sales tax supported by stores like WalMart for years. Why did they change their mind? In part, it’s because they realized they could make more money providing rent-seeking services to small businesses, processing the tax for them, knowing that the regulatory burden involved would prove particularly troublesome for mom and pop shops. They saw an opportunity to suck thousands of sellers away from places like eBay and into the Amazon Marketplace, not thanks to competitive value, but thanks to a sweeping new government policy. Amazon got to where it is by being a reliable and innovative company, and they are now supporting an effort to prevent competition from local sellers of books and other goods and make it more costly for potential competitors to enter the space where they have a dominant market share.
 
This is why libertarian populists oppose cronyism: because we recognize that a system which uses the power of government to hold down the next Amazon – the young, innovative, hungry businesses that work to compete – has all sorts of terrible unseen outcomes, including a more stagnant economy, one with less upheaval but also less innovation, and one which allows for higher prices. Imagine the world we would live in today if Washington had put its thumb on the scale for Wang or Commodore in 1983 and smothered Microsoft, Apple, and Intel – favoring the powerful over the companies run out of garages. The tech sector would still be hugely important, but it wouldn't be what it is today – and in its absence, we would see less wealth, fewer jobs, lower productivity and more. Except we wouldn't know that’s what we missed out on.
 
As for Klein’s comments about the poor: the poor are doing better in this economy by many measures than they have in past recessions – while income inequality has grown, mobility measures show more consistency – but I’d argue that’s almost entirely due to private companies and the benefits of competitive arenas of the marketplace (dramatically lowering costs, expanding access, forcing innovation, etc). At the same time, the costs of energy, food, and insurance premium costs are eating up larger portions of family budgets (to say nothing of how the cost of higher education inhibits mobility). In each arena, the regulatory/subsidy state is preventing competition and profiting from the poverty of others, creating disincentives for success. This in turn creates a societal bias toward the false security of government-run mediocrity instead of the promise of liberty and prosperity.
 
It’s far too simplistic to say this is corporations versus the poor, and Klein is correct that this is not what's going on here. What’s going on is that the Bigs have worked in tandem to create a system where corporate rent-seekers can profit from the paternalistic technocratic state. Where do subsidies come from? And where do they go? Someone has to run the life of Julia after all.
 
What’s most notable about Klein’s examples is that they all represent redistributional inputs, with the actual outcomes a dubious proposition: take money from one person, funnel it through the Bigs, give it to another, who in turn gives it back to the Bigs. And is this making any of their lives better? Or, like the Oregon Medicaid study revealed, is it just providing a paternalistic sense of security? Giving poor people more money, on the condition they stay poor, to purchase government approved corporate products and services via pretend markets closed to competition from small business doesn't help the poor. Quite the opposite, in fact: the current entitlement state is designed to help the poor stay poor more comfortably, and help the Bigs profit from their poverty – a system where Big Agribusiness and Big Energy lobby for subsidies, tariffs, mandates and quotas, and then profit from the entitlement programs which direct taxpayer funds toward them through the pockets of low earners. We live in a world where the Big Wall Street banks make billions off getting a cut from the swipe fees of every food stamp debit card for 47 million people across the country.
 
The point of welfare should be to help poor people stop being poor. Ronald Reagan’s belief that “Welfare’s purpose should be to eliminate, as far as possible, the need for its own existence” is completely absent from the world Klein frames. Many well-intentioned paternalists on both sides of the aisle believe the starving masses really are helpless, incapable of seeking out a better life for themselves in the absence of Leviathan’s handouts. Except this is a system which best serves the Julia Profiteers, not Julia herself. Throwing money at the problem misses the point that social capital can't be redistributed, and inputs of money don't yield outputs of mobility. Frederic Bastiat’s line about the bad economist being one who confines himself only to visible effect is apt: all the current system has to offer is the input of money sent in the direction of people, with no measure of the negative outcomes of disincentivizing success or crowding out private, voluntary alternatives to the State.
 
This is the difference between the technocrat and the populist, writ large: true populists trust the people – even the poor people.


Slade:

Amid the search for a way forward for Republicans heading into the 2014 midterm elections, the drumbeat for “libertarian populism” has been getting steadily louder. That idea, defended by writers like the Washington Examiner’s Tim Carney and The Transom’s Ben Domenech, asks the GOP to meld two strains within its ranks that have, until now, generally been seen as discrete.
 
Libertarianism is characterized by its support for only minimal government intrusion into the free market. Populism, meanwhile, is known for its support of anything that benefits “regular Americans” instead of powerful elites. At first blush, the two can seem uneasy bedfellows – after all, some may wonder, doesn't capitalism just serve to make richer the already rich?
 
The philosophy’s advocates don’t see it that way. Instead, they call for eliminating governmental programs primarily because those programs give a leg up to large, entrenched interests like super PACs, labor unions, banks and corporations. Libertarian populism is defined less by what it’s for and more by what it seeks to do away with – the reality that our current system unfairly privileges big institutions at everyone else’s expense. Setting aside that any policy prescription liberal economist Paul Krugman doesn’t like is probably worth pursuing, there are good reasons to think Carney and Domenech might be on to something.
 
There can be no doubt crony capitalism is a problem in America. When the biggest, richest, most powerful institutions can collude with government to rig the game in their favor, the competition that makes free markets the greatest force for freedom in the world begins to break down. Aspiring entrepreneurs are dissuaded from trying to start new businesses, because they doubt they'll be able to compete with existing ones – not on the merits, but in the big firms’ ability to buy influence with policymakers. And when producers are able to gain an unfair advantage through subsidies, bailouts, federal loan guarantees or beneficial regulations, consumers are forced to pay more for lesser products.
 
A great example of this is our needlessly convoluted “swiss cheese” federal tax code. Large entities have the resources to hire an army of lawyers and accountants to ensure they’re taking advantage of every possible loophole. Most individual taxpayers, well, don’t have that option. As a result, middle-income households end up paying nearly as much, and sometimes more, in taxes than the wealthiest Americans. And because big institutions can put their dollars to work lobbying the government for better treatment, the nature of the tax credits, write-offs and deductions carved into the code will skew more and more in their favor over time.
 
The libertarian populist answer to this problem is to flatten and simplify the tax code – not because doing so reduces the burden on the rich, but because it makes it harder for them to avoid what they owe. Fewer loopholes means less reason to spend huge amounts of money seeking out those loopholes. This does in a day what decades of carve-outs meant to benefit the middle class have failed to accomplish: It levels the playing field. And that is the crux of the libertarian populist formula: get government out so entrenched institutions can't keep using it to game the system.
 
At both ends of the political spectrum, Americans are hungry for an antidote to cronyism. Frustration with that aspect of the status quo is what powered both the tea party and the Occupy movements. In between, people may not quite be sure what’s wrong with the current system, but they know something isn’t right.
 
Therein lies the opportunity for Republicans. As the Examiner’s Carney put it, “It’s time for free-market populism and a Republican Party that fights against all forms of political privilege – a party that champions all who want to work and take risks in order to improve their lives and raise a family.”
 
There is ample evidence that this could be a winning strategy. As workers have struggled to bounce back from the recession, banks and corporations have been raking in the profits, and that hasn’t gone unnoticed. A report by the College Republican National Committee earlier this summer found the conservative narrative that young people most agreed with was, “We need leaders who aren’t afraid to fight existing interests like big companies and big unions in order to reform outdated and unsustainable programs.” Americans, especially young Americans, have become deeply suspicious of large institutions. More worrisome for Republicans, they have come to associate the GOP with the very institutions they mistrust.
 
The College Republicans asked a focus group of aspiring entrepreneurs why they voted for President Obama even though they see Republicans as the party that favors business. “The Republican Party would make it really easy to start a business and have a successful business if you already have that capital in your bank account . . . but we’re all sitting on our own various debts and our student loans, and the Republican Party isn’t helping us with any of that,” one respondent explained.

Both parties are looking to communicate that they’re on the side of regular Americans. Liberals can convey that idea by supporting wealth redistribution measures and ignoring the long-term negative consequences to the economy. But conservatives have to find a different way of proving to people they’re not just looking out for the rich and powerful. More and more it seems their only hope is by making the GOP’s raison d'ĂȘtre to get the crony out of capitalism.


Review of Anatol Lieven’s “America Right or Wrong.” By Emanuele Ottolenghi.

Anatol Lieven, right or wrong? By Emanuele Ottolenghi. openDemocracy, October 19, 2004.

Anti-Zionism is anti-Semitism. By Emanuele Ottolenghi. The Guardian, November 28, 2003. Behind much criticism of Israel is a thinly veiled hatred of Jews.

Europe’s “Good Jews.” By Emanuele Ottolenghi. Commentary, December 2005.

Making Sense of European Anti-Semitism. By Emanuele Ottolenghi. Human Rights Review, Vol. 8, No. 2 (January-March 2007).

The Real Palestinian Vision. By Emanuele Ottolenghi. Wall Street Journal, June 23, 2011.

Review of Anatol Lieven, “America Right or Wrong.” By Michael Hirsh. NJBR, January 24, 2013.

America Right or Wrong: An Anatomy of American Nationalism. By Anatol Lieven. New York: Oxford University Press, 2004. Also here.


Ottolenghi (Lieven review):

Many liberals will find Anatol Lieven’s book America Right or Wrong: An Anatomy of American Nationalism a refreshing read: in smooth style, Lieven impressively articulates familiar arguments against United States foreign policy since 9/11 – especially, but not exclusively, in the middle east.
 
Lieven employs a formidable armoury of qualities: wit and sarcasm, a knowledge of his critics that enables him often to preempt their likely counter–jibes; and frequent (albeit tactical) empathy for opposing views, which reveals a genuine attempt to diagnose the illnesses of US foreign policy and propose remedies.
 
But wit, rhetoric, and sarcasm – even when spiced with empathy – are ingredients for sermons and motivational literature, not rigorous analysis; and in the end America Right or Wrong is nothing more than preaching to the choir.
 
In his book, Anatol Lieven targets what might be called the usual suspects: the pro–Israel lobby, the neo–conservatives, the Christian right, and anyone disagreeing with his worldview. His solutions are equally predictable: the United Nations, liberalism, international law, a broader role for Europe, and settling the Israeli–Palestinian conflict by pressing Israel into more concessions.
 
These simplicities come into their own in the last full chapter of his book, “American Nationalism, Israel and the Middle East”. Here, Lieven’s argument is trite and old: nationalist Israel is a danger, primarily to itself; Palestinian terrorism is unlike al–Qaida and therefore deserves understanding; and anti–semitism is a bogey – those waving it are either paranoid or manipulative, it is a marginal phenomenon even in the Arab world, and what there is will fade once Israel leaves the territories.
 
The conclusion follows: if only Israel – and its uncritical American supporters –could mend its ways, the ensuing peace would pave the way to more effective policies to face the region’s problems, above all terrorism.
 
A failure of liberalism
 
The immediate question raised by Lieven’s argument relates to the defence of dissent that should be at the heart of liberalism. The Arab states and the Palestinian cause are responsible for a litany of abuses of basic civil and human rights: a lack of basic freedoms, oppression of women, criminalisation of homosexuality, widespread use of torture, active support and moral justification for terrorism, discrimination against religious and ethnic minorities, and the systematic persecution of dissent.
 
How, in short, can one be a liberal and broadly support the Arab world and the Palestinian cause in their grievances against the United States and Israel, two states which, with all their shortcomings, embody many classic liberal values and ideals?
 
Here, Lieven is hardly persuasive. He labels those liberals who happen to disagree with him – like Alan Dershowitz or Paul Berman – as “self–described liberals”; the qualifier is justified by their support for Israel, their characterisation of Islamic radicalism as “Islamofascism”, and their view of the present crisis as a war of ideas counterposing the free world against a new form of totalitarianism.
 
Lieven probably has a persuasive explanation for his preference, as do Dershowitz and Berman for theirs. He cites anti–colonialist feelings and the sense of grievance pervading the Arab world. He is right, but this pervasiveness neither justifies nor explains the crimes and horrors committed by post–colonial Arab regimes; liberals with anti–colonialist feelings should not be blind to the ubiquitous illiberalism of the Arab world just because of the west’s colonial past.
 
This puts the question about dissent and liberalism in a new light. Who is the real “self–described” liberal – Berman, Dershowitz, or Lieven himself? Lieven is free to disagree, he can easily formulate a good counter–argument, but his dismissive labelling of dissenters betrays dogmatism. For Lieven, they are “self–described” not because they are not liberals, but because they disagree with him: hardly an expression of liberalism.
 
Paul Berman’s and Alan Dershowitz’s case is symptomatic, and not only because Anatol Lieven’s discussion of Israel and the middle east conveniently quotes mostly Jewish sources as if the entire matter of US policy in the region impinges principally upon Jews. In a book that obsessively refers to the pro–Israeli lobby as the prime mover of things (whereas Arab pressure–groups are unmentioned) it is hardly surprising that the author’s worldview reflects the misguided, and dangerous, belief that the future of the middle east ultimately depends on what Jews and Israel will or will not do.
 
It may be significant that Lieven conveniently ignores Christopher Hitchens – perhaps the most glaring defector from the “left” consensus – a writer who is neither a Jew nor someone who deserves the disparaging qualifier “self–described”. But that is precisely the point: Hitchens, a former Trotskyist with strong left–liberal credentials, no sympathy for Ariel Sharon, and no love for the right, is as far from Lieven’s worldview as Berman and Dershowitz are.
 
Lieven’s language does not reflect a nuanced awareness of the complexities of the issues at stake. He systematically discredits opponents to dismiss their arguments, painting them as caricatures of themselves. “Bush country”, the Christian right, and pro–Israel sentiment – all are the object of much derision and little illumination. He deems America simply to be wrong, and dismisses dissenters with no hearing. A liberal who decries the polarised moral vision of George W Bush does not offer any advance in wisdom by inhabiting an equally Manichaean world. The real task is to appreciate that the moral difficulties and dilemmas we all face, liberals and conservatives alike, offer no easy answers.
 
Lieven’s inability to cope with dissent – his failure of true liberalism – is at the root of the permeating dogmatism of his argument. An ability to respond to complexity and dissent with seriousness might lead Lieven to the realisation that America’s foreign policy is not necessarily dictated by a cocktail of American and “chauvinist” Israeli nationalism.
 
It is possible (for example) to be a liberal and to have supported war in Iraq in spring 2003; to be a liberal and to support Israel; to be a liberal who is horrified at Abu Ghraib and still approve of Saddam’s overthrow; to be a liberal who sees a difference between Abu Ghraib (an aberration that will be prosecuted) and Saddam’s reign of fear (a state–sanctioned system of torture and mass murder). In truth, the argument over current American foreign policy divides the liberal community. These are serious liberal arguments and serious liberal dilemmas. Lieven’s dismissal of opponents is neither serious nor liberal.
 
In the labelling game, one more thing emerges. Anatol Lieven’s got this thing for Jews. His obsession, mostly latent, occasionally comes to the surface. Referring to Washington Times columnist Arnaud de Borchgrave, Lieven mentions that de Borchgrave is “in part of Jewish descent”, as if ethnic origin somehow makes opinions more or less valid.
 
Lieven uses de Borchgrave’s origins to support his own arguments: this Jew agrees with him, making his Jewishness a crucial asset that validates Lieven’s viewpoint. But if being Jewish lends legitimacy to opinions (itself a highly questionable implication), why is Jewish descent good only when Lieven agrees with de Borchgrave but not good when other Jews disagree with Lieven? Lieven labels Melanie Phillips a “British Jewish journalist” and Phyllis Chesler a “Jewish liberal American feminist” to insinuate the partisan nature of their support for Israel, and thus discredit their writings in its favour.
 
Why in these cases too is it necessary to know their ethnic affiliation and religious persuasion? The point is that being Jewish is immaterial to an opinion’s validity. Reference to ethnic origin should never appear in a serious polemic: ideas are at stake, not the skin–colour, religious beliefs, gender, sexual inclinations or ethnic origin of our supporters and opponents. To make these factors relevant to arguments reflects an intellectual confusion that dangerously borders on prejudice. Lieven’s discrediting efforts are grave enough when he labels opponents for their ideas, graver still when the label refers to their ethnic or religious affiliation.
 
A flawed view of the middle east
 
What of Lieven’s views on wider matters of peace in the middle east? On a central issue, Lieven is right: peace will come only through territorial compromise. But he errs in assuming that this compromise can only follow United States pressure on Israel, and in claiming that US support for Israel only worsens the situation in the region. In the end, Israel’s many mistakes notwithstanding, the main impediment to peace is the inability of Palestinian and Arab nationalism to come to terms with a non–Arab sovereign presence in their midst.
 
No, the United States should not pressure Israel. It should pressure the Arab world to take responsibility for its pitiful condition: the lack of human development, the inept elites that dominate its politics, the social injustice that feeds into terrorism, the failure to produce viable governance and economy. The US should confront the Arab world with the need to take responsibility and make choices. This embrace of responsibility, not even more evasion of it, is what the region desperately needs today from its leaders and citizens alike.
 
His approach on this point means that Lieven “essentialises” the Arab side and denies it agency in relation to past and current events. Blaming the victims for their own suffering leaves the perpetrators, and the socio–political and ideological milieu that gives rise to their murderous intents, without responsibility. This patronising approach is revealed in the way that Lieven expects only America and Israel to change, and mend, their ways; his demand for a different course of action from the Arab world is, by contrast, perfunctory – theirs is an inevitable, almost mechanical reaction to events.
 
Lieven would probably object to these last remarks, invoking (as his book does) the Arab League’s 2002 initiative on the Israeli–Palestinian issue. But he would be wrong, for three reasons.
 
First, the Arab League initiative left the refugee issue open (here, Lieven sides, surprisingly, with Israel).
 
Second, the initiative was hijacked by the Passover massacre which killed forty Jews on the eve of one of the holiest days of the Jewish calendar – yet the Arab League did not condemn Hamas (after all, the prime mover of the initiative was Saudi Arabia, a key Hamas financial supporter), but denounced Israel’s military response instead.
 
Third, when in May 2003 the Aqaba summit included reference to Israel’s right to exist as “a Jewish state”, the Arab establishment and Arab intellectuals loudly protested.
 
A misunderstanding of American foreign policy
 
Anatol Lieven’s critique’s is most glaringly flawed in relation to changes in America’s foreign policy in the middle east after 11 September 2001. Before that date, America was a status quo power in the region, intent on dual containment vis–Ă –vis Iran and Iraq and connivance with authoritarian regimes. At least one of these regimes (like Saudi Arabia) were intimate allies selling oil and investing trillions of dollars in western economies and western ambassadors; some (Egypt, Jordan and Morocco) were friends and recipients of generous aid; others (like Syria) could be persuaded to become friends to improve the other policies.
 
America’s policy of dual containment was an abject failure: daily images of Iraqis suffering from the post–1991 sanctions regime were beamed into Arab homes for a decade, while the US was bombing Iraqi targets and enforcing no–fly zones over Iraq, but Saddam Hussein survived in power. Elsewhere, US–backed tyrants depleted their countries’ resources to fund extravagant lifestyles while repressing their domestic opposition, thus preventing the rise of an Arab civil society and leaving radical Islam as the only remaining organised social and political force. Arab regimes then brutally crushed the Islamists as they had crushed communists decades before, and the ensuing hatred for the regimes’ main patron, the United States, simmered quite independently of the dynamics of the Palestinian–Israeli peace process.
 
Islamic radicalism has deep historical rhythms of its own that predate and will long outlive Osama bin Laden. In the face of its recent manifestations, Lieven may well argue that American foreign policy is responsible for sins of omission and occasional commission. But to underplay its other dimensions, as he does – Saudi funding, Pakistani connivance, the self–inflicted wounds of a region that democracy has largely passed by, the dark seduction of Islamism itself at a particular moment in history – suggests that Lieven, in his urge to excoriate America’s ignorance and hubris, himself has plenty of both.
 
Lieven lambasts the United States’s backing for Israel on the grounds that America’s commitment to democracy – which he cites as a reason for strong US–Israeli relations – clashes with Israel’s occupation policies, thus undermining US advocacy of democratisation elsewhere in the middle east. But he does not apply the same logic to America’s close ties with Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Morocco, and the Gulf principalities. Here, there is no suggestion that US aid and arms sales to these Arab countries compromises the US’s democratic credibility in Arab and Muslim eyes.
 
America’s “realism” before 9/11 was interest–driven, unsentimental and brutal; it was devoid of the romance, the illusions of democratisation and the benign imperialism that Lieven now criticises. Along with its annual aid to Israel, America’s generous aid packages to Egypt and Jordan (including the latter’s debt–cancellation in 1994) were stabilising mechanisms meant to strengthen middle–east peace, yet another pillar of US foreign policy in the region. The price was support for authoritarian regimes whose treatment of their subjects was not exactly in harmony with America’s commitment to democracy elsewhere.
 
Lieven’s approach would imply that for America to be true to its democratic principles and avoid moral incoherence, it should stop supporting its undemocratic middle–eastern allies, even impose sanctions on them or deny them aid until they reform. This would presumably apply even more to unfriendly regimes like Iran, where Lieven regrets the US refusal to engage with Tehran. If America sought confrontation with Iran, the region might descend into chaos, which Lieven would eventually blame on America; but who would pay the price of such absolute consistency of democratic principle?
 
Lieven decries America’s support for Ariel Sharon’s policies in crushing the second Palestinian intifada and America’s present lack of involvement in peacemaking. But in doing so, he forgets recent history: solving the Arab–Israeli conflict was also a pillar of US foreign policy, and the deep American involvement in peacemaking (itself an ongoing commitment at least since the 1950s) was shipwrecked in 2000 mainly by Palestinian intransigence. America’s disengagement in 2001 was the consequence, not cause, of diplomatic failure.
 
It is easy to decry American nationalism and warn against its association with what Lieven calls, without much explanation, “a chauvinist version of Israeli nationalism”. But the collapse of the peace process, to which two successive US administrations devoted ten years and much of their prestige, happened during the tenure of two of the least nationalist or chauvinist rulers, Bill Clinton and Ehud Barak. 

Moreover, Barak’s negotiating teams included the most liberal Israelis of any negotiating cycle – Yossi Beilin, Yossi Sarid, Shlomo Ben–Ami and Uri Savir. The process still blew up in their (and Bill Clinton’s) faces. To advocate now a return to the policies of the 1990s is not merely an unrealistic aspiration for current or future US leaders and policies; it involves a real failure of historical imagination.
 
Israel’s settlement policy was, and remains, a huge impediment to peace. But a balanced observer could not possibly reduce the failure of the peace process only to one factor: this is essentialising.
 
A fair observer would at least include Palestinian terrorism – and terrorism did not start with the intifada, or the Oslo process, but long precedes Israel’s conquests.
 
An acute observer would also add Yasser Arafat’s ambiguities with terror organisations such as Hamas. His pandering to Islamist audiences and Arab nationalists – for example his 1994 Johannesburg speech which qualified Oslo as a ruse – might have equally contributed to the collapse of the peace process.
 
But Lieven is not balanced, fair nor acute.
 
A misreading of anti–semitism
 
The fact that Lieven is pushing an ideological agenda successfully rehearsed only among like–minded people shows best in his treatment of anti–semitism. Lieven is right to dismiss more extreme accounts of the phenomenon that view today’s Europe as little–changed from the 1930s. This, however, does not imply that anti–semitism poses no threat; and Lieven seems unaware that between Auschwitz and a truly tolerant society there are infinite shades of grey.
 
Lieven falters on anti-semitism. He condemns it, true, and he recognises that it exists. But he then dismisses the vast amount of literature identifying and diagnosing it as a paranoid reaction meant to censor legitimate criticism of Israel. A serious approach to the problem would have tried to identify those forms of criticism that are legitimate - and thus attacking them on grounds of anti-semitism is disingenuous - and those forms of criticism which exploit old anti-semitic tropes to foment hostility toward Israel and its Jewish supporters in the west. 

There is much of the former, but just as much, if not more, of the latter going around. Lieven’s contribution is thus lamentable, because it only helps dismissing the problem as a form of Jewish hysteria and will push even many Jews who are uncomfortable with Israel’s current policies to defend the Jewish state no matter what.
 
Lieven’s treatment of anti–semitism in the Arab world further proves his lack of understanding of the problem. Though he censures the phenomenon, he cautiously suggests the solution is simple: “This tendency must be combated as part of general efforts to bring peace to the Middle East, to improve its level of education and public discourse, to lay the foundations for democracy and help it develop in other ways – and in Europe to help integrate . . . Muslim immigrants into Western society.”
 
This is all very well, but given Lieven’s scepticism about efforts to bring democracy to the region, how much time must pass before the ugly spread of medieval anti–semitism can be reversed? For Lieven, most incidents in Europe involve disgruntled Arab and Muslim immigrants who have reacted against “what they saw as Israeli atrocities against the Palestinians . . . Their views of these atrocities were exaggerated; but equally, their criminal behaviour was a response to events as well as the product of a warped intellectual background.”
 
If the Israeli–Palestinian conflict was settled, and Europe’s problems of integration solved, anti–semitism will vanish, Lieven seems to suggest. But Europe’s Jews also see violent acts committed against Jews in Israel and elsewhere (including Palestinian terrorism against Israeli civilians, attacks on synagogues and cemeteries, atrocities like the beheading of Daniel Pearl).
 
But if European Jews responded to attacks on them by burning mosques, desecrating Muslim cemeteries, or attacking Muslims in subways, would Lieven be inviting the “understanding” he seeks in relation to anti–semitism? One hopes not: humans, at least those who believe in freedom, are free agents and thus have a choice. Those who choose to vent their anger through acts of violence inspired by ancient prejudices must be held responsible for their crimes and offered no attenuating circumstances or “understanding.”
 
Anti–semitism thrives in today’s Arab states – the only place in the world where the old forgery of the Protocols became a popular TV series and where Holocaust denial enjoys academic status. Anti–semitism has also found legitimacy in many European forums, some of which are not as extreme and marginal as Lieven believes. Its appearance should not be dismissed as a transient phenomenon. Rather, it should be condemned forcefully and the effort made to seek to distance a worthy cause – Palestinian self–determination – from the stain of prejudice.
 
A blindness over nationalism
 
Lieven’s underestimation of anti–semitism is no surprise in the light of his characterisation of nationalism, which is unreservedly negative. This has a direct bearing on his approach to Israel: for he sees Israel’s occupation as both the result of nationalism and the cause of anti–semitism.
 
However, anti–semitism cannot be dismissed as an offshoot of anti–colonialism, or the product of Zionist settlement. Arab nationalism, after all, has historically been hostile to the national aspirations of indigenous people in the region who are not Arabs or Muslims. The Kurds (hardly a European settler population), the Copts in Egypt, the Berbers in north Africa, and Sudan’s non–Arab and non–Muslim peoples are only a few examples.
 
Arab nationalism was never open to competing national claims, and remains uncompromising to this day, regardless of whether the opposing nationalism is indigenous. Even had Jews been a majority in Palestine before Zionism, their aspirations would (like Kurdish nationalism) have clashed with the chauvinist nature of Arab nationalism, because Arab nationalism did – and does not now – recognise the rights of national minorities in its midst.
 
Lieven’s portait of nationalism as chauvinist might be expected to lead him to condemn Palestinian nationalism as well, and to advocate a post–nationalist middle east: after all, that is the basis of his criticism of American and Israeli nationalisms. But on Palestinian nationalism he is silent.
 
Lieven argues that: “More than any other factor, it is the nature and extent of this nationalism which at the start of the twenty–first century divides the United States from a largely postnationalist Western Europe.” This is surely correct, especially (if not entirely) when in defining western Europe as post–nationalist, although Europe’s “post–Christian” dimension also reveals the growing chasm between the United States and Europe.
 
But what Lieven misses is that the romantic vision of a post–nationalist world to which many Eurocrats and European liberals subscribe is not what isolates the United States from the rest of the world – the latter, in Lieven’s mind, is still very much Europe and little else – but what isolates Europe from the rest of the world. Even apart from the Middle East, nationalism is still a dynamic force in Russia (Lieven’s more familiar ground), the Indian sub–continent, Latin America, south–east Asia and in particular parts of Europe. It has lost its grip only in liberal Europe, and liberal Europe as usual wants to shape the world in its own image.
 
Anatol Lieven sees Europe’s post–nationalist identity as a response to the pernicious nature of nationalism, which sealed Europe’s tragic fate in the 20th century; and as opening the way to an era of prosperity and peaceful coexistence. But this no doubt accurate diagnosis of European success is not applicable to the middle east, or to American policy there.
 
Lieven is right to comment that: “The Western European elites . . . essentially decided that the correct response to Nazism and to the hideous national conflicts which preceded, engendered and accompanied it was to seek to limit, transcend and overcome nationalism.” As a result, Europeans look at Zionism with condescension and growing impatience, and demand that Zionist Israel and those still supporting it see the dangers inherent in nationalism, and make the effort to transcend it.
 
But this is not Israel’s problem with nationalism, it is Europe’s (and Lieven’s) problem with nationalism: the inability to understand that what did not work for Europe works for others. That is today’s challenge in the middle east – not to transcend nationalism, but to foster a form of nationalism that is not exclusive, racist, aggressive and chauvinist.
 
Here is the missing component of Lieven’s argument. For Israel to transcend nationalism following a European post–nationalist model, Israel would need a middle–east region that is ready, like Germany and France in post–1945 Europe, to do the same. Nobody seems ready for that, east of Jerusalem. Indeed, how can the Palestinians be expected to transcend national aspirations they have not yet realised, in order to embrace a European model with no assurance of success outside Europe?

Europe has a further problem with nationalism. Nationalism is not only a dark, negative, exclusive force, defined by “its ability to feed off a very wide range of other resentments, loyalties, identities, hopes and fears”. Nationalism is also an expression of identity, what some collective population chooses to be. It is love of the land, a sense of community, a bonding based on common stories, common memories, solidarity and a feeling of a shared fate, and a fondness for similar things.
 
Lieven rightly dismisses the debate about the birth of a Palestinian national consciousness: what matters now is that a strong national identity has taken roots. But he does not similarly recognise that on the Jewish side a similar process has occurred, that Zionism is not merely a product of survival instincts, what Lieven calls “the understandable but deplorable choice” made by Jewish intellectuals after 1945 in favour of nationalism.
 
Nationalism succeeds where there is a nation to embrace it. Artificial identities – as is currently the case with European identity – fail to develop if they fail to persuade. Thus, it was not just a tragic imperative that drove Jews to embrace nationalism, the culmination of a decades–long process of growth of national consciousness, whereas Europeans recoiled from it in fear.
 
What distinguishes the Jewish national cause in the last six decades, and what drove and drives many Jews across the world to identify with and support Israel, is the inner logic of a nation–based identity – not the cosmopolitan and assimilated acculturation that distinguishes those Jews whom Lieven frequently consults and sentimentally invokes. Israel is valued not for its policies – on which Jews and Israelis disagree and will continue to have robust arguments – but for its very existence and what it means to most Jews.
 
An old adage suggests that it takes two to tango. Lieven has plenty of dancing wisdom to offer America, Israel and their supporters, but none for their dancing partners. Are there any? Under what circumstances will they dance? Should America force them to dance? Should it teach them the steps? Should it walk away if they refuse to engage? Shouldn’t they be the ones, initiating the dance? And who’s to blame, if they do not tango in the end?
 
Lieven does not say, primarily because he fails to ask. And it is that failure to ask the right questions that ultimately makes this book hardly inspiring. Choosing sides, as well as policies, in the current global predicament is a matter of preferences and priorities, as such choices reflect a complex world of difficult, tragic and often impossible dilemmas, where some values are sacrificed over others in a prioritising game that will never do full justice to lofty ideals. Lieven’s tirades do no justice to these complexities and thus offer little choice and little comfort.


Confronting the End of European Jewry. By Jonathan S. Tobin.

Confronting the End of European Jewry. By Jonathan S. Tobin. Commentary, August 12, 2013.

The Death of European Jewish Culture. By Walter Russell Mead. Via Meadia, August 31, 2013.

You Only Live Twice. By Michel Gurfinkiel. Mosaic, August 2013.

Vibrant Jewish communities were reborn in Europe after the Holocaust. Is there a future for them in the 21st century?


Tobin:

Last year the U.S. State Department noted that a “rising tide of anti-Semitism” was sweeping through Europe. It was a significant acknowledgement of a critical problem. But as serious as this warning was, the dilemma of European Jewry remains a marginal issue that only gains sporadic attention when there is an egregious crime or a move to ban Jewish religious practices in a specific country. As much as the murder of four Jews in a shooting spree in Toulouse by an Islamist terrorist or the attempts to ban circumcision or kosher slaughter makes headlines, the revival of Jew hatred on the European continent is not so much the function of egregious incidents as it is a historic process that is leading to what seems like an inevitable conclusion. In is in this context that Michel Gurfinkiel’s essay “You Only Live Twice” on the subject in this month’s edition of Mosaic magazine must be seen as an important contribution to Jewish historiography. After decades of celebrating the unexpected revival of European Jewry after the Holocaust that created new vibrant communities where desolation had existed in 1945, we have now reached the moment when the cycle of hatred has turned around again. In a brilliant tour de force of historical perspective, Gurfinkiel reminds us that the virus of Jew hatred has not merely revived but threatens to write what may be the final chapter in the long saga of European Jewry.
 
Gurfunkiel puts the steady drip of depressing stories about anti-Semitism in context. But it is important because it dares to draw conclusions about the problem that many sober European commentators refuse to approach. Instead of merely lamenting a sad trend, he demands that Jews draw the proper conclusions from events. That is something growing numbers of European Jews are doing, as many are immigrating to Israel. But his conclusion should send a chill down the spines of not only Jews but also all civilized persons who might otherwise be inclined to take a less alarmist view of events:
A mitigating view of today’s situation might have it that, at the very least, divine providence did beneficently afford to about two million European Jews a brief golden age, a true rebirth, which in turn brought fresh luster to European civilization as well as encouragement and inspiration to millions of their fellow Jews around the world, most especially in the Jewish state. True enough; but what is no less certain is that the end of European Jewry, a millennia-old civilization and a crowning achievement of the human spirit, will deliver a lasting blow to the collective psyche of the Jewish people. That it will also render a shattering judgment on the so-called European idea, exposed as a deadly travesty for anyone with eyes to see, is cold comfort indeed.
The desire to avoid drawing such a stark conclusion about the problem is natural and it is based in no small measure, as Gurfinkiel notes, on the fact that European Jewry “looks healthy and secure.” The postwar revival of Jewish life in France and even Germany has created substantial communities and a population that is invested in the future of these countries. They have enjoyed a golden age that created a superficial similarity to the strength and security of American Jewry. But the comparisons no longer make sense. With anti-Semitism raging on the left and the right and with the unprecedented growth in the population of Muslim immigrants in Europe (especially in France), you don’t need to be an alarmist to understand that “catastrophe may lie ahead.”
 
What Gurfinkiel sees as the “seeds of a new anti-Semitism” were sown in France by Charles de Gaulle who repudiated his country’s alliance with Israel after the Six-Day War and embarked on a campaign of delegitimization of the Jewish state that did not exclude frankly anti-Semitic utterances. But while de Gaulle deserves a large amount of the blame, the problem was bigger than the enormous ego of that hero of the Second World War. Post-war European intellectuals were weaned on a belief that imperialism was the original sin of European civilization and wrongly categorized Zionism as part of the colonial endeavor rather than as the national liberation movement of the Jewish people. While Europe enjoyed a brief period of philo-Semitism as part of the reaction to the Holocaust, the movement seeking to brand as illegitimate the expression of Jewish identity simmered under the surface. Just as Muslim anti-Semitism “has been intimately connected with classic European anti-Semitism for more than a century” and freely borrows from the Hitlerian playbook, as the historian notes, “the two brands share a common language, and each sees in the other a mirror image of itself.” The comeback of Jew hatred in Europe is inextricably tied to its rise in the Muslim and Arab world.

The problem is that the “new” anti-Semitism that focuses on Israel is merely a variation on the old themes that once ravaged the European continent. Perhaps the most important insight in an essay full of them is Gurfinkiel’s pointing out that whereas in the aftermath of the Enlightenment European Jews thought they could gain equality and acceptance by jettisoning their specific Jewish identity and faith, so, too, do some now think they can escape the anti-Semitic tide by distancing themselves from Israel.
For the most part, in France and throughout Western Europe, that price was fully and willingly paid. Generations of Jews eagerly pledged their allegiance to the ideals of democracy, patriotism, and religious tolerance, pouring their prodigious talents and energies into making Europe a better place. Over the centuries, in fair weather, the bargain held; in foul, the price would be successively raised, the conditions of acceptance revised, the bargain hedged, until at last the offer was finally, brutally, rescinded in wholesale massacre.
 
Now, busily building monuments and museums, Europe ostentatiously engages in celebrating and mourning its lost dead Jews of yesterday, whose murder it variously perpetrated, abetted, or (with exceptions) found it could put up with. Meanwhile, it encourages and underwrites the withering of Jewish life today. Once again, Jews are accepted on condition: that they separate themselves from their brethren in Israel and join the official European consensus in demonizing the Jewish state; that they learn to accommodate the reality that so many ethnic Europeans hate them and wish them ill, and that Islamists on European soil seek their extinction; and that in the interest of justifying their continued claim to European citizenship, they accept Europe’s proscription of some of the most basic practices of their faith.
 
To the dead Jews of yesterday, everything; to the living Jews of today, little and littler.
This juxtaposition of affection for the dead and indifference or hostility to the living is a common theme in much of the world after 1945, but especially so in France and Europe. As in the past, those who think they can escape hate by turning their back on their own people may someday discover that they have given up much in exchange for little or nothing. Though some may hope that it is not too late for the tide of anti-Semitism to be reversed, it is difficult to argue with Gurfinkiel’s conclusion. Even more to the point, it is a powerful argument for even greater support for a Jewish state that provides the only fitting memorial to the Holocaust and the only effective answer to anti-Semitic hate.
 
 

Terrorism Expert Erick Stakelbeck: Muslim Brotherhood “Spawned Al Qaeda.”

Terrorism expert: Muslim Brotherhood “spawned Al Qaeda.” Video. Martha MacCallum with Erick Stakelbeck. America Live. Fox News, August 14, 2013.

Ten-Year-Old Christian Girl Murdered in Egypt Leaving Bible Study Class.

Christian girl murdered in Egypt leaving Bible study class. Video. Martha MacCallum and Lisa Daftari. America Live. Fox News, August 13, 2013. Also here. YouTube.



Core Roots of Palestinian Terrorism. By Louis René Beres.

Image of Black September hijacker Leila Khaled on the Israeli security wall in Bethlehem.


Core Roots of Palestinian Terrorism. By Louis RenĂ© Beres. Ruthfully Yours, August 13, 2013. Originally in the Jerusalem Post. Also U.S. News and World Report.

Please Not Again: Releasing Terrorists for “Peace.” By Louis RenĂ© Beres. Arutz Sheva 7, July 28, 2013.

Beres (Core Roots):

Jerusalem will soon have to confirm its final Road Map decisions on “peace.” Then, Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu will need to determine whether the still-fractionated Palestinian side is willing and able to overcome some of its deepest cultural roots. Without such a determination, any formal agreement could be perilous.
 
Here, insight requires memory. Before a resurgent medievalism took hold in the Islamic Middle East, the fraternity of Palestinian terrorist groups had contained many disparate bedfellows. Virtually every Arab enemy of Israel was more-or-less welcome to join in a battle for “national self-determination” against the “Zionists.” Today, the fight has changed from a preeminently secular and tactical one, to a struggle that draws heavily upon still-underlying commitments to religious sacrifice.
 
In ancient Greece, Plutarch’s Sayings of Spartan Mothers identified the exemplary female parent as one who had reared her sons for civic sacrifice. Such a Greek mother was always relieved to learn that a son had died “in a manner worthy of his self, his country and his ancestors.” There are lessons here for Israel. The deepest roots of jihadist terror originate from current cultures that embrace similar views of sacrifice. In these mostly Arab cultures, the key purpose of sacrifice extends beyond any presumed expectations of civic necessity. This rationale goes to the very heart of individual fear, to the palpable human dread of death.
 
In the Arab Middle East, acts of terror have increasingly become a sacred expression of religion. In these cultures, sacrifice derives, in part, from a desperately hoped-for conquest of personal death. By adopting such an atavistic practice, the jihadist terrorist expects to realize an otherwise unattainable immortality.
 
The attraction is clear. A jihadist murderer kills himself or herself, together with assorted innocent others, to ensure a personal life that will never end. The so-called “death” that he or she actually expects to suffer in consequence of this “suicide,” therefore, is no more than a transient inconvenience. However faith-based, the Shahid or martyr can rationally calculate that an anticipated suicide is “cost-effective.” In Islam, “martyrdom” has always been associated with Jihad. Unequivocal and celebratory invocations for sacrificial killing can be found in the Koran (9:111), and, more explicitly, in the canonical hadith. “Do not consider those who are slain in the cause of Allah as dead,” instructs the Koran, “for they are living by their Lord.” For Hamas, there are obligatory aspects of sacrificial terror that must never be overlooked. This two-sided nature of terror/sacrifice – the sacrifice of “The Jew,” and the sacrifice of “The Martyr” – is codified in the Charter of Hamas as a “religious” problem.” In 2003, late Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat’s own appointed clergy, preaching on the Temple Mount, reaffirmed a core religious precept: “Palestinians spearhead Allah’s war against the Jews. The dead shall not rise until the Palestinians shall kill all the Jews. . . .” The jihadists’ terror of death leads them to commit a murderous form of “suicide.” Because dying in the act of killing “infidels” and “apostates” is expected to buy freedom from the penalty of non- being, these terrorists aim to conquer mortality by “killing themselves.”
 
Of course, Israel and its terrorist enemies have very different orientations to “peace.” This stark asymmetry puts the Jewish State at a noteworthy disadvantage.
 
Israel faces a still-expanding threat of unconventional war and unconventional terrorism. Faced with opponents who are not only willing to die, but who might ecstatically seek their own “deaths,” Jerusalem must quickly understand the critical limits of ordinary warfare, national homeland defense, and strategic deterrence.
 
The root “peace process” problem is jihadist fear of death, and the consequent compulsion to sacrifice certain despised “others.” This compulsion, in turn, stems from a doctrinal belief that killing unbelievers, and also being killed by unbelievers, is the best available path to immortality. In short, Islamist terrorist unwillingness to accept personal death leads to the killing of others, specifically in order to escape this death.
 
For many of Israel’s terrorist enemies, killing Jews always offers the optimal immunization against personal death.
 
Resembling more explicitly sacrificial elements of Hamas and Islamic Jihad, the military wing of Fatah is now oriented toward much more than a purely nationalistic “armed struggle.” It is dedicated to religious sacrifice, a commitment that promises its followers not just military victory over “Zionist occupiers,” but, much more appealingly, immunity from death. For the Palestinian terrorist, violence and the sacred remain closely intertwined. Israel, therefore, must think in terms of desacrilizing this relentless adversary, and somehow convincing him that ritual murders of “Jews” will lead not to paradise and limitless sexual pleasures, but rather to the “terrors of the grave.” Can such a desacrilization ever be accomplished through ordinary politics and the US-brokered “peace process?” To be persuasive, it would have to originate among certain influential Islamic clerics themselves. How could this origination be made to work? What is the correct “peace” strategy for Israel? As Palestinian statehood is already being validated in the UN, Mr. Netanyahu will quickly need to acknowledge the fallacy of accepting a Palestinian state because it has agreed to “demilitarization.” Every state, he will need to recognize, maintains an “inherent” and irreducible right of self-defense. This right would not be withdrawn from “Palestine,” whatever else its leaders might have agreed to in pre-independence negotiations.
 
The “Road Map” coaxes Israel along a twisting excursion to unending war and terror. By ignoring the core roots of Palestinian terrorism, this “Map” can only offer the Jewish State an utterly contrived “Two-State Solution.” Should Netanyahu agree to follow US President Barack Obama’s lethal cartography, he will have misunderstood the deepest, ineradicable origins of Palestinian terrorism.
 
For Palestinians, the terror-based struggle against Israel has never been about land or “settlements.” It has really been about God.


Owning the Mideast Peace Process. By Barry Rubin.

Owning the Mideast Peace Process. By Barry Rubin. Real Clear World, August 13, 2013.

Israeli-Palestinian Peace Talks Won’t Solve the Jewish State Problem. By Peter Beinart.

Israeli-Palestinian Peace Talks Won’t Solve the Jewish State Problem. By Peter Beinart. The Daily Beast, August 13, 2013.

One-State Dream, One-State Nightmare. By Roger Cohen.

One-State Dream, One-State Nightmare. By Roger Cohen. New York Times, August 12, 2013.

The One-State Solution Would Be a Nightmare. By Carlo Strenger. NJBR, June 30, 2013. With related articles.

Enter the Neo-Canaanites. By Bret Stephens. NJBR, June 20, 2013. With related articles.

Cohen:

TEL AVIV — Let us deal, on the eve of the first direct peace talks between Israelis and Palestinians in almost three years, with the idea of one state. It hovers out there — as dream and as nightmare — and is best laid to rest.
 
First the dream: That somehow after all the wars and accumulation of hatred, Israelis and Palestinians can learn overnight to live together as equal citizens in some United States of the Holy Land, a binational and democratic secular state that resolves their differences and assures their intertwined futures.
 
Oh, what a seductive illusion (at least to some). Let’s set aside for a moment that the regional examples of such multiethnic states — Lebanon, Iraq and Syria come to mind — are not encouraging. Let’s set aside that such a state would have a hard time every May deciding whether to mark a Day of Independence for its Jewish citizens or a Day of Catastrophe for its Arab citizens.
 
Let’s set aside whether the Jabotinsky Streets of the imaginary country dear to the one-state brigade would become Arafat Streets, or vice versa, and whether to have a Begin Avenue or a Grand Mufti al-Husseini Boulevard. Let’s even set aside the fact that the two principal communities would be in constant, paralyzing battle, causing the best and the brightest to go elsewhere in search of opportunity and sanity.
 
The central issue is this: One state, however conceived, equals the end of Israel as a Jewish state, the core of the Zionist idea. Jews will not, cannot and must not allow this to happen. They have learned how dangerous it is to live without a certain refuge, as minorities, and will not again place their faith in the good will of others, nor trust in touchy-feely hope over bitter experience.
 
That is the ineradicable legacy of diaspora persecution and of the Holocaust. Emerging in the 19th century from the static ghetto into the Sturm und Drang of the modern world, the Jews saw two principle routes to emancipation: assimilation and Zionism.
 
The former was seductive. At first it offered rapid advancement, before it became clear that in this very advancement lay danger. It was a wager on acceptance that the Jews of Europe lost to Hitler: No citizen was more patriotic than the prewar German Jew.
 
Zionism, by contrast, placed no faith in others’ good will. It sought, rather, to usher Jews to the full realization of their nationhood and so, in a sense, normalize them — make them patriotic about something that was their own.
 
The world, in the form of the United Nations, upheld this quest in 1947, voting for the division of Mandate Palestine into two states, one Jewish and one Arab. Arab armies went to war — and the rest is history, including the now almost half-century-old occupation of the West Bank and Israeli dominion over millions of disenfranchised Palestinians.
 
And that brings us to one state as nightmare, which is what Israel, an extraordinary success story in many regards, faces today. The only way out of this nightmare is two states, one Israeli and one viable, contiguous Palestinian state living in peace and security beside it.
 
I sat with Yair Lapid, Israel’s centrist finance minister, son of a survivor of Nazi-occupied Hungary, grandson of a Hungarian Jew slaughtered in the camps, and he told me of his father’s repeated lesson: that he came to and fought for Israel so that Jews would “always have a place to go to.”
 
He said: “I have a lot of respect for the ethos of Greater Israel. I grew up in a house using this language. But we do understand that in the long term, if we stay there, that will be the end of the Zionist idea. We cannot live in one state. This will be a version of one state for two nations, and that this is the end of Zionism. Eventually the Palestinians will come to us and say, O.K., you decided we are not going to have a country at all, so we want to vote. If you say no, you are South Africa in its worst days. If you say yes, it is the end of the Jewish country, and I want to live in a Jewish country.”
 
Lapid argued that the all-the-land absolutists — Economics Minister Naftali Bennett and Deputy Foreign Minister Zeev Elkin among them — are, in their rejection of the two-state idea, undermining the idea of a Jewish state over time and so undercutting the core of Zionism and his own father’s life-shaping message. He is right.
 
Lapid later issued a statement criticizing Israel’s decision to publish construction bids Sunday for more than 1,000 housing units in contested East Jerusalem and several West Bank settlements. “To poke sticks in the wheels of peace talks is not right,” he said, “and not helpful to the process.” Right again.
 
One state as delusional fantasy of some Middle Eastern idyll and one state as nightmarish temptation involving the indefinite Israeli subjugation of another people are equally unacceptable.
 
As the Talmud says, hold too much and you will hold nothing.


The Palestinian Authority Rewrites Jewish History. By Itamar Marcus.

PA flag superimposed on picture of Western Wall on Abbas’s Presidential Guard’s Facebook page. By Itamar Marcus. Palestinian Media Watch, August 12, 2013.

PA TV doc: Arab homes will be built at Western Wall, Jews’ praying there is “sin and filth.” By Itamar Marcus. Palestinian Media Watch, August 17, 2011. YouTube.

Transcript:

They [Israelis] know for certain that our [Palestinian] roots are deeper than their false history. We, from the balcony of our home, look out over [Islamic] holiness and on sin and filth (Jews’ praying at Western Wall) in an area that used to have [Arab] people and homes. We are drawing our new maps. When they [Israelis] disappear from the picture, like a forgotten chapter in the pages of our city’s history, we will build it anew (residential area). The Mughrabi Quarter will be built here (on the Western Wall Plaza).