
A Moral Witness
By Avishai
Margalit
New York Review of Books, 54(19), December 6, 2007

Dark Hope: Working for Peace in Israel and Palestine
by David Shulman
University of Chicago Press, 226 pages
Edited by Andy Ross
David Shulman's powerful and memorable book is a record of his
intense involvement with a volunteer organization composed of Israeli
Palestinians and Israeli Jews founded in October 2000.
Shulman explains: "Israel, like any society, has violent, sociopathic elements.
What is unusual about the last four decades in Israel is that many destructive
individuals have found a haven, complete with ideological legitimation, within
the settlement enterprise."
Forty years since the Israeli victory of 1967 brought the West Bank under
occupation, Shulman immigrated to Israel from the US. In the Israeli army he was
trained as a medic. At the Hebrew University of Jerusalem he acquired a good
mastery of Arabic. In 1987 he received a MacArthur Fellowship. By temperament
and calling, Shulman is a scholar, not a politician.
Shulman's work on India and its culture suggests that his politics would draw on
Gandhi's example. At the beginning of the first intifada, in 1988, Israel
expelled Mubarak Awad, a Palestinian-American child psychologist who advocated
Gandhian tactics for resisting the occupation. The Israeli government had no
reason to be worried, since Awad made no headway among the Palestinians:
nonviolent struggle is perceived by Palestinians as "unmanly."
The effect of Palestinian violence on Israel's war policy is clear. During the
second intifada, Palestinian violence elicited an intense military response from
the Israeli side, resulting in devastation of the Palestinian community in the
West Bank.
Shulman cites Mordechai Kremnitzer, a law professor at the Hebrew University:
"Even if you accept the Palestinian reading of what happened at Camp David and
assume that the Israeli proposals were inadequate, still it is impossible to
accept the violence they have adopted as their weapon while still faced with an
Israeli partner who wanted to reach a solution."
Shulman advocates a Gandhian approach on moral grounds and perhaps also on
practical grounds. Shulman has a moral purpose: to expose the evil done by a
regime that tries to cover up its immoral deeds.
Assaf Sharon took part in many of the activities that Shulman describes. He is
mentioned in the book by his first name only. In the southern West Bank, Assaf
tells us, southeast of Yata, the main township in the area, more than a thousand
Palestinians dwell in caves. Water is scarce and the cave dwellers are dependent
to a large degree on local cisterns.
In the 1970s, Israel declared part of the Yata region a "closed military area."
In 1980, next to the closed area, Israel established four settlements, which now
have about two thousand settlers. Between 1996 and 2001, these settlers erected
four additional armed encampments. The army expelled the Palestinian cave
dwellers by force from the closed area, destroying their wells, blocking their
caves, and confiscating their meager property of blankets and food.
What Shulman saw in the South Hebron Hills causes him to use the word "evil"
unsparingly: "What we are fighting in the South Hebron Hills is pure, rarefied,
unadulterated, unreasoning, uncontainable human evil. Nothing but malice drives
this campaign to uproot the few thousand cave dwellers with their babies and
lambs. They have hurt nobody. They were never a security threat."
Shulman shows that the settlers are supported by what he calls the "intricate
machine," a term he uses to describe various Israeli government agencies,
including the army, the police, and the civil authorities that administer the
West Bank.
Shulman makes it clear that the settlers in the South Hebron Hills are almost
all religious people. The established leaders in most of the older settlements
often belong to the Gush Emunim or reflect its mentality: religious, intensely
nationalistic, idealistic. By contrast, I have found among the second generation
a lethal combination of attitudes: a conviction that they have the right to
dominate Palestinians and a sense that they are themselves victims.
Shulman shows that a wild generation was born in the territories, a generation
whose members are far bolder than their parents, far more ready to defy the law,
and far more capable of utter lawlessness with regard to Palestinians. It is a
generation saturated with intense hostility toward the Arabs, and ferociously
tribalistic.
Israeli Prime Minster Ehud Olmert and Palestinian President Abu Mazen may agree
on principles for a settlement of the conflict. But Abu Mazen wants an agreement
to be specific and Olmert wants it to be vague, and the question is whether they
can arrive at a compromise.
Shulman's diary gives an acute sense of the gap between peace schemes in their
"peace process" phase and the relentless and dreadful reality on the ground. The
reality is shaped not by agreements but mainly by the violent workings of
Israel's intricate machine and by the violence of Palestinian forces.
To narrow the gap between the grand schemes and the reality on the ground, the
intricate machine must be halted. Daily life has to be seriously improved if any
grand scheme is to be trusted. To believe that this is going to happen calls for
a leap of faith.

Avishai Margalit is Professor Emeritus of Philosophy at the Hebrew
University of Jerusalem. He is currently the George Kennan Professor at the
Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton.
By Tim Rutten
Los Angeles Times, April 23, 2008
Edited by Andy Ross
Reappraisals: Reflections on the Forgotten Twentieth Century
By Tony Judt
Penguin Press, 448 pages
As a university professor at New York University and head of that
school's Remarque Institute, Tony Judt is one of our foremost historians of
Europe, an elegant writer and subtle thinker whose last book was a Pulitzer
finalist. His latest work collects 24 of his essays, most of which have been
published in the New York Review of Books and the New Republic.
The best of them deal with some of 20th century Europe's major intellectual
figures or with consequential historical phenomena such as the fall of France in
1940 and Romania's emblematic nationalism. A handful engage his more recent
preoccupation with contemporary U.S. domestic and foreign policies, and there
his arguments are more problematic.
In recent years, Judt has emerged as a passionate and formidable critic of
America's relationship with Israel, of Israel's conduct generally, and of
Zionism itself.
Judt, 60, was born in England, the son of Jewish refugees: a Russian mother and
Belgian father. He was educated at Cambridge, where he later taught, and at the
École Normale Supérieure in Paris. It's a background that superbly prepared him
to raise the two concerns that run through these essays. One "is the role of
ideas and responsibility of intellectuals." The other is that he thinks we shall
"look back upon the half generation separating the fall of Communism in 1989-91
from the catastrophic American occupation of Iraq as the years the locust ate: a
decade and a half of wasted opportunity and political incompetence on both sides
of the Atlantic."
Against that amnesia, the best of these essays set the examples of Koestler, who
Judt thinks has been too quickly forgotten; Camus (his essay borrows Arendt's
description, "the best man in France" for its title); Levi, whom the author
convincingly argues has suffered badly from misreading on both sides of the
Atlantic; and Kolakowski, the Polish Catholic historian of Marxism whose
definition of evil, "postwar intellectual life's fundamental question," Judt
finds compelling.
As a student in England, Judt was an ardent supporter of Labor Zionism, spent
time on a kibbutz and volunteered as a translator and driver for the Israel
Defense Forces during the 1967 war. One of the two essays on Israel that Judt
includes in this collection is a review of Michael Oren's history of that
conflict, which the author argues was a disaster for Israel, fundamentally
altering the Jewish state's culture, politics and even its demography for the
worse.
The other piece was commissioned by the editors of the Israeli daily Haaretz. In
it, Judt argues that "Israel's future is bleak," the country "an object of
universal mistrust and resentment" through its own doing and because of its
infantilizing relationship with the United States.
Missing from this collection is the most controversial of his anti-Israeli
polemics, a 2003 piece for the New York Review of Books in which he advocated
abolition of the Jewish state in favor of a new, binational country of
unspecific constitution. The heart of Judt's argument can be found in this
paragraph: "Today, non-Israeli Jews feel themselves once again exposed to
criticism and vulnerable to attack for things they didn't do. But this time it
is a Jewish state, not a Christian one, which is holding them hostage for its
own actions. ... The depressing truth is that Israel today is bad for the Jews."
The best rejoinder to Judt's superficially "realist" argument came quickly from
the New Republic's Leon Wieseltier: "Why must Israel pay for his uneasiness with
its life? The reason, I fear, is that Judt has misinterpreted the nature of the
hostility that vexes him. ... For the notion that all Jews are responsible for
whatever any Jews do, that every deed that a Jew does is a Jewish deed, is not a
Zionist notion. It is an anti-Semitic notion."
There's an oddly jejune thread that runs through these essays: the
true-believing young Labor Zionist, disenchanted with the normalization of
Jewish life in a Jewish state, becomes an anti-Zionist.
AR Why should Jews answer
for Israel? Why do we want Israel to be an essentially Jewish nation? And why do we forget
that Arabs are Semites too?

