Article # 1
Israel's Pride and Prejudice at 60
By Dominique Moïsi
The writer is a senior adviser at France's Institute for International Relations
If 60 is for an individual the age of maturity, it is a very young age for a state. Israel remains, for the lack of a better word, an adolescent state, the young incarnation of a very old dream. It is an adolescent torn between pride and resentment on one hand, and hope and fear on the other.
That combination of pride and resentment was most visible in Warsaw two weeks ago during the ceremonies commemorating the 65th anniversary of the insurrection of the Ghetto. Three years ago, on the occasion of the 60th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, Israeli military aircraft had flown over the site of the camp. This time, in the Royal Opera House of Warsaw, young Israeli soldiers in uniform were present in large numbers, strolling past walls adorned with hundreds of photographs of the faces of Polish Jews who had disappeared during the war. A vanished eastern European world had been replaced by a vibrant and defiant western presence in the Middle East. Poles, some of them in black tie, looked on baffled at this uniformed presence in the midst of a Beethoven concert designed to celebrate the reconciliation between Poland and (not its Jews, for they have mostly disappeared) the state of Israel. The message was clear. The spiritual heirs of the leaders of the Ghetto insurrection were back in Warsaw full of both pride for what they had been able to achieve - a state guaranteeing the security of its citizens - and continued resentment for what had taken place. If they had been there 65 years ago, millions of Jewish lives would have been saved. Are Palestinians today paying a price for the resentment still felt by Israelis towards Europe, in a transfer of ire of the most detrimental nature?
Yet the presence of these Israeli soldiers in the Warsaw Opera was a clear illustration that 60 years after its creation the very existence of the state of Israel remains nothing short of a miracle: a miracle of human will, determination and ultimately of hope. In less than three generations and in spite of extremely difficult conditions, Israelis have managed not only to survive but also to create a rich and original culture; to achieve spectacular results in science and medicine; and to create a technological hub in the region.
But hope should not be confused with self-delusion. Israel cannot dream of ever becoming the democratic Singapore of the Middle East if it remains in an ethnic and religious war with its immediate neighbours, the Palestin-ians. More than 30 years ago some of Israel's strategic thinkers dreamt of an alliance with the non-Arab countries of the Middle East, Iran and Turkey. In their eyes the triangle between Tehran, Ankara and Jerusalem held the key to creation of a new balance of power in the Middle East. Today, this diplomatic dream has evolved and is taking the shape of a new configuration of forces in the region. It consists of an alliance between moderate Sunni Arab regimes and Israel against the alliance of fundamentalist forces behind Iran. There is something in that logic but for the former alliance to emerge there needs to be real progress and at least a truce between the Israelis and all Palestinians, including Hamas. Strategically many Arab leaders fear the prospect of a nuclear Iran as much as, if not more than, Israel but emotionally their people would not ratify efforts to stop Iran without real progress in -Palestine.
Demographically, strategically, politically, ethically and even economically, Israelis cannot put the Palestinian problem to one side. They should not give in to resignation because all previous peace attempts have failed, or because Palestinians have not produced a leader of the quality of Mahatma Gandhi or Nelson Mandela. As long as Palestinians arein despair the Israeli miracle will remain, like Schubert's eighth symphony, unfinished.
Israelis and Palestinians could have provoked the best in each other. Unfortunately their interactions have led to the opposite result. David Ben-Gurion, the first and so far best leader of Israel, dreamt of an Israel that would act as a bridge between the developed north and the underdeveloped south. The African continent loomed large in his vision of the world. But the Israelis did not have to look that far afield for an economically undeveloped region to engage with. Their Africa was next door and after 1967 it became, through occupation, part of them.
It may be that the goal of peace with its most reluctant Arab neighbour is simply too tough for Israel to realise, at least in the foreseeable future. Separately, America's goal of democratisation for the regionhas also provedtoo ambitious. Instead, it would be better to set more realistic goals: for Israel, ensuring peace by truce with the Palestinians and for the US, seeking the rule of law in the region, not democracy. These twin goals would constitute significant progress and would complement each other. Acceptance of a truce with Hamas is not the equivalent of a uni-lateral withdrawal from territories. Truces take place precisely between belligerents and not partners for peace. The end of violence would mean that the collateral damage of Israeli military action would not become a cradle for a new generation of terrorists.
In Lemon Trees , a recent Israeli movie, one of the characters quotes his father, saying: "I shall sleep at night when Palestinians start having hope." Much depends, of course, on the meaning of the word "hope". Is it hope for a better life, or hope of a world without Israel? For the Middle East will be transformed only when Israelis stop being obsessed by their need to exorcise the past, and when Palestinians start believing that they can have a future next to Israel.
Published: The Financial Times, April 30 2008
http://www.ft.
Slideshow: www.ft.com/oldcity
Article # 2
Life at close quarters with hostility
By Tobias Buck in Jerusalem
Whenever Munir Nasrawi opens the door to his house in the Christian quarter of Jerusalem's Old City, he is faced with a cold reminder of the struggle under way inside this ancient world of twisting lanes, crumbling domes and bustling souks.
Mr Nasrawi's family has lived inside the Old City for more than 200 years. The shopkeeper is a big cheerful man with an affecting laugh. He also has a fondness for holding barbecues on his roof terrace overlooking the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.
Yet his face clouds over as he contemplates the solid, 3m iron fence that cuts along the lane opposite his sprawling home. On the other side of the fence, builders are busy putting up a new house. The foundations have already been laid and soon, he says, the third floor of a new Jewish seminary will be completed.
To Mr Nasrawi and other Palestinians who make up the vast majority of the Old City's 32,000 residents, these new neighbours are unwelcome intruders. They see the growing number of Jews moving to the Muslim and Christian quarters of the Old City as a hostile force taking over a world that does not belong to them.
In the 41 years since Israel conquered the Old City, along with the rest of Arab East Jerusalem and the West Bank, Jewish settlers have sought to lay down roots in the occupied territories. With the help of successive Israeli governments, the settlers have built entire cities on land that Palestinians regard as theirs, as well as more than 100 small "outposts" that often consist of little more than a few containers and a generator for electricity.
Today, about 450,000 Jews live in the West Bank and occupied East Jerusalem and their determination to stay is widely seen as one of the biggest obstacles to reaching a peace agreement that would allow the creation of a Palestinian state.
Though small in numbers, the settlers inside the Old City are considered to be among the most committed. They insist that all of Jerusalem is now part of Israel and that they have as much right to live in the Old City as the Palestinians. But their readiness to hold out in single-room apartments surrounded by hostile Palestinians has set off a fierce house-to-house battle that is fought with building permits, bulldozers and, above all, money.
Many residents inside the Old City say they have been approached by Israeli settlers - or by Palestinian middle-men - with generous offers to buy their houses. Maysoun Maslouhi, who lives in the Muslim quarter, says her family was offered $100,000 (€64,000, £51,000) for just one of their rooms. It was a huge sum of money for the family, but "of course" her father refused.
Palestinians who sell their property to settlers face being ostracised by their community and one has reportedly been killed for what is regarded by many as the worst form of betrayal. "Their souls are very weak," says Ms Maslouhi of the families who sell up. "I despise them more than I despise the Jews."
The small number of settlers - 900 according to the highest estimate - outside the Old City's Jewish Quartermake their presence felt in many ways. Their flats and houses are decked out in Israeli flags and are often surrounded by high fences and security cameras.
Whenever settlers, or their children, leave their houses they are accompanied by at least one armed security guard - paid for by the Israeli government. The protection is necessary, says one guard, because of the threat of knife attacks and from stone throwers.
Palestinians say they are terrified by the armed men that roam the Old City's narrow cobbled lanes and take position on the roofs of the settlers' houses. "Sometimes I am afraid of going up on to my roof terrace," says Mr Nasrawi. "You don't feel free in your house."
Many Jewish settlements in the West Bank form separate enclaves that are fenced off and removed from Palestinian villages, but there is no way in which settlers and Palestinians can avoid each other in the confines of the Old City.
In one house close to the Via Dolorosa - the lane that Jesus is believed to have taken on his final journey - the second floor is decked with dozens of Israeli flags. On the balcony below, a Palestinian family proudly displays an Islamic banner.
The settlers - or residents, as they prefer to be called - say they have as much right to live in the Old City as anyone else. Daniel Luria, executive director of Ateret Cohanim, an organisation that promotes Jewish migration to the Old City, says that in the 19th century Jews and Arabs lived side by side across Jerusalem's four quarters. "This is our country, this is my city and no one has the right to divide it," he says.
Mr Luria says his organisation has never approached Palestinians with an offer to buy their property and that "there is no shortage of Arabs willing to sell".
But he admits that life between Jews and Palestinians in the Old City is tense: "They know there is a battle going on over every inch of the Old City."
Published: The Financial Times, April 30 2008
http://www.ft.
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