Gideon Levy and Uncomfortable Truths

The political left in many countries has a long history of defending despicable acts of violence when they are committed by the right people. From Norman Mailer’s campaign to free murderer Jack Abbott, who upon release promptly went and murdered someone else, to Bernadine Dohrn’s effusive praise of Charles Manson, right up to today’s disgusting international campaign on behalf of cop-killer Mumia Abu-Jamal, there are few crimes too vile and horrendous for the left not to defend should the perpetrator belong to the correct movement or a fetishized oppressed minority.

Israel recently saw a particularly egregious example of this in the case of Sabbar Kashur, a Palestinian convicted of raping a young woman under false pretenses. According to initial media reports, Kashur was accused because he had claimed to be Jewish and the woman would not have slept with him had she known he was an Arab.

The Israeli left immediately rushed to Kashur’s side, accusing the entirety of Israeli society of racism and denouncing its justice system as akin to Nazi Germany or apartheid South Africa. Much of the foreign press quickly followed suit. But without question the most fervent defender of the convicted rapist was Haaretz columnist Gideon Levy.

Levy is the rough Israeli equivalent of Noam Chomsky or Gore Vidal in America. His specialty is rhetorically unhinged denunciations of everything and anything to do with Israeli society. In this case, however, he outdid himself, in more ways than one. In his column on the case, unsubtly titled in English, “He Impersonated a Human,” Levy painted a picture of Kashur as something akin to a Palestinian cross between Mahatma Gandhi and Jesus Christ.

“Sabbar Kashur wanted to be a person,” Levy wrote, the tears no doubt dripping dangerously onto his laptop, “a person like everybody else. But as luck would have it, he was born Palestinian. It happens. His chances of being accepted as a human being in Israel are nil.” Under such circumstances, who could forgive poor Sabbar a brief extramarital interlude? “Married and a father of two,” Levy wept, “he wanted to work in Jerusalem, his city, and maybe also have an affair or a quickie on the side. That happens too.”

Then, Levy tells us, something wonderful happened. “Two years ago he met a woman by chance.” He gave her a false Hebrew name, because no Arab could ever pick up a Jewish girl, “Nice to meet you, my name is Dudu. He claims that she came on to him, but let’s leave the details aside.” Details indeed, no need for details when such a sad tale of racism and oppression is involved. But fortunately, “Soon enough they went where they went and what happened happened, all by consent of the parties concerned.”

But then, the forces of evil descended on the innocent adulterer. “One fine day,” Levy ominously intones, “a month and a half after an afternoon quickie, he was summoned to the police on suspicion of rape.” No Arab, of course, could ever get a fair shake in the racist Israeli judicial system, and what chance did he have with a racist harlot as his accuser? “In tune with the public,” Levy wrote with his usual surety, “Kashur’s judges assumed, rightly, that the woman would not have gotten into bed with Dudu were it not for the identity he invented.” Given such circumstances, how could the world not react with horror and condemnation to such an unspeakable miscarriage of justice? “It was no coincidence,” Levy trembled, “that this verdict attracted the attention of foreign correspondents in Israel, temporary visitors who see every blemish. Yes, in German or Afrikaans this disgraceful verdict would have sounded much worse.”

Unfortunately for Levy, every single thing he wrote about the case is false. As was recently revealed in an article for the Tel Aviv paper Ha’Ir, using the original court transcripts, the naughty little idyll between poor Sabbar and his inamorata was something more like this, as recounted by Lisa Goldman,

The plaintiff, identified in the article as “B*,” was an emotionally traumatized woman in her 20s who had been raped by her father from the age of six. On the day she met Kashur, she was living in a women’s shelter. Before that, she had worked briefly as a prostitute and spent some time living on the streets. Kashur lured her into the building on Hillel Street with the claim that he worked there and wanted to show her his office; he then assaulted her and raped her, leaving her naked and bleeding – which is how the police discovered her.

B. was later hospitalized in a psychiatric institution, where the police questioned her about the rape, which led them to Kashur. During the trial, after it became apparent that B’s past, combined with her emotional state, made her a vulnerable witness, the prosecution came up with a plea bargain of rape by deception.

Goldman’s post reprints the details of the assault, which are quite frankly impossible to print in anything resembling a family publication, but it is enough to consider this final, chilling statement from the plaintiff as she recounts her violation: “Then he said that if I stay silent and I don’t resist, then it would like end faster and it wouldn’t be, like, he wouldn’t use force. I still resisted him and it was forced.”

These revelations prove that, put simply, the Israeli left, and Gideon Levy foremost among them, rushed to defend a rapist in a case about which they knew nothing and about which they cared to know nothing. It played to their prejudices about Israeli society and reinforced their hatred of their fellow citizens. They felt they knew all they needed to know. As a result, they compounded a young woman’s trauma, exonerated a monstrous criminal in the court of public opinion, and debased themselves as human beings.

Gideon Levy fancies himself a prophet, a teller of uncomfortable truths to an uncaring society. Where this has led him is frankly horrifying. Did he know the details of the case? No, but he made no attempt whatsoever to find out about them. Did he shrink from slandering a rape victim as a racist? Apparently, not for a moment. Did he shrink from condemning his entire society on the basis of almost no evidence at all? Absolutely not. Did he disgrace himself and his profession? Unquestionably. He was the leading voice of a group of leftists who, in ironically sexist fashion, defamed a victim of rape out of demented sympathy for the man who violated her. After all, these things happen.

If Levy has any professional honor left, and if Haaretz wants to salvage some measure of its integrity, then both should do the right thing, at long last. Levy should resign immediately. He should issue a written apology to the victim of this assault and allow it to be published publicly. If he does not do so, Haaretz should fire him. If he does resign, Haaretz should also issue its own apology for its coverage of the issue.

Given the current state of Israeli journalism, it is unlikely that any of these things will happen. But we may take comfort in the fact that we now know exactly how seriously to take Gideon Levy and Haaretz in the future. That is an uncomfortable truth Gideon Levy might do well to consider.

Benjamin Kerstein is Senior Writer for The New Ledger.

A Second Great White Fleet

On August 31st, little noticed outside naval analyst circles, China’s first purpose-built hospital ship left port on her inaugural mission. The 10,000 ton vessel, called Peace Ark, and her crew of over 400 military and medical personnel will spend the next 87 days providing health care to foreign militaries in the Gulf of Aden and humanitarian assistance to civilians in Djibouti, Kenya, Tanzania, the Seychelles, and Bangladesh. More than that, Peace Ark’s deployment marks the start of a new phase of Chinese soft power: medical assistance to win hearts and minds.

U.S. Navy ships, including hospital ships, routinely conduct similar humanitarian assistance and disaster relief operations. The U.S.N.S. Mercy is currently returning from such a mission in the Pacific. However, in almost all cases these deployments are completed by one or two vessels, whose work often achieves only minor local media coverage. If we are serious about improving global perceptions of the U.S., we must think bigger.

One hundred and two years ago, sixteen United States Navy battleships steamed out of Hampton Roads, Virginia. For the next two years, this fleet circumnavigated the globe, making port calls on six continents. The armada, sporting freshly painted white hulls, became known as the “Great White Fleet,” and by doing everything but fight introduced a new and invigorated America to the world.

We need a second Great White Fleet.

After January’s earthquake in Haiti, the U.S. military and Coast Guard vessels transported supplies, provided security, and even conducted air traffic control for Toussaint L’Ouverture International Airport. During the ongoing flooding in Pakistan, helicopters from U.S. warships have delivered critical food aid and airlifted thousands to safety. Both disasters presented a side of America that is too rarely seen on the world stage: young American men and women sent to aid beleaguered nations.

However, in both these cases the U.S. flotilla was ad hoc, assembled either by reassigning ships from more traditional duties or, as in the case of the hospital ship U.S.N.S. Comfort, deployed from port only through the Herculean efforts of her crew. There was no dedicated squadron trained and tasked for humanitarian assistance and disaster relief. We should change this.

Imagine a squadron of half a dozen ships, staffed with medical personnel from all the branches of the military, Coast Guard, United States Public Health Service, and non-governmental organizations. Additional expertise would come from civilian agencies, most importantly U.S.A.I.D. and Department of State. During and after disasters, this squadron would deploy to the area pre-stocked with the resources and personnel most needed. Other times, the fleets would provide humanitarian and other assistance in coordination with host countries: repair schools and hospitals, provide medical care, and train local health providers, and most importantly, build relationships with foreign governments and their institutions.

Critics will say we cannot afford it. We can. They will say we do not have enough medical personnel. We do, if we partner with non-governmental organizations and the civilian sector. They will claim it is not our mission. It has to be. America’s power is great, but finite. The United States can do anything, but it cannot do everything. With our attention and resources already committed near capacity around the globe, the U.S. needs strong partnerships to build a more resilient, secure world. A new Great White Fleet is an opportunity to build the relationships we need to face the threats of the coming decades. Describing the original Great White Fleet before its departure, U.S. Navy Rear Admiral Robley Evans proclaimed that “we are ready at the drop of a hat for a feast, a frolic, or a fight”. In the 21st century, the world knows America can fight. It is time we remind the world we can feast and frolic as well.

Craig Hooper is a San Francisco-based national security strategist and writes at NextNavy. Christopher R. Albon is a political science Ph.D. candidate at the University of California, Davis. He writes at ConflictHealth.

Sino Subversion

I’m in a very provincial Chinese city right now – a small town by Sino standards, really. (Fewer than a million people live here, gasp!) Tempted by the inimitable aromas of cigarette smoke, sweat, and cup ramen, I entered a wang ba, or internet cafe, the other day, hoping to while away a few hours surfing the web. Alas, the girl working behind the counter took one look at my blue eyes and shook her head.

“You can’t use the internet in a place like this,” she told me in her provincial dialect.

“Why not?”

“If you want to use the internet here, you have to have a Chinese ID to scan,” she told me.

“But in the past I’ve simply used my passport,” I objected.

“Not anymore,” she said, “now an ID must be scanned. Only a Chinese ID will work.”

Perhaps my lips began to quiver, or maybe she saw that I was not engaged in a secret plot to undermine the Chinese regime by checking my email and looking at Drudge. ”Just sit down at any computer,” she told me, “I’ll scan my ID.”

And so she did: she circumvented the regulations aimed at keeping foreigners out of wang ba by scanning her own ID instead. Rather than succumb to an arbitrary and stupid rule, she found a simple way around it.

Things like this happen in China all the time.

Consider the infamous Great Firewall. As readers are surely aware, the Chinese government places strict limits on internet use. Speeds are kept artificially (and extremely painfully!) slow to preclude videos and other large files from being transferred. Scores of websites are blocked: everything from Twitter to YouTube to Wordpress blogs are inaccessible. Search engine results are censored. Message boards and chat-rooms are scoured by cyberpolice for hints of dissent.

Yet there is a way around this. Simply logging onto a virtual private network, or VPN, allows one to surf the internet unmolested. Not surprisingly, many Chinese people have embraced VPNs. Indeed, when I was working at a business magazine in Shanghai last year, it was my Chinese colleagues who taught me to use VPNs in the first place. Now if only someone could figure out a way to fix the speed problems.

One sees minor examples of Chinese people flouting regulations constantly. Traffic laws are seldom obeyed. No-smoking signs in spaces like elevators and taxi cabs are routinely ignored. In major cities, prostitution is openly practiced.

The Chinese regime is brutal and all too often uncompromising. But oftentimes, Chinese people find a way around the strictures that have been unjustly put upon them.

These are a people not meant to live under tight-fisted dictatorship.

Ethan Epstein is a writer based in Portland, Oregon.

The Desperation Summit

The strangest thing about the newest round of talks between Israel and the Palestinians is that neither side wants them. In fact, there is only one party to these negotiations that does want them, and that is the United States or, more precisely, the Obama administration.

Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu is currently sitting on a relatively comfortable status quo. Both the Israeli and Palestinian economies are doing well, violence is at a minimum, Fatah is cornered politically between Israel and Hamas, and the rightwing members of his coalition who are opposed to any territorial concessions on principle are relatively happy. Palestinian President Mahmud Abbas is not in nearly as sanguine a position, but he is not doing particularly badly either. He has maintained his office despite his unpopularity, prevented Hamas from taking power in the West Bank, and led the Palestinians into a growth economy that is finally reversing some of the damage done by the second intifada.

Neither man, in short, has the slightest interest in upsetting the apple cart.

In fact, only one man does. With the American economy still sluggish, his administration distracted by what it considers to be peripheral issues like the Park51 mosque, his poll numbers collapsing, and with no substantial foreign policy achievements whatsoever to boast of, Barack Obama is put simply, desperate for a win.

This is particularly true in regard to the Middle East. Despite campaigning on a pledge to bring revolutionary change to the region by reversing his predecessor’s ostensibly disastrous policies, Obama’s record on the Middle East thus far is not only inferior to that of George W. Bush, but inferior to that of nearly every other president in recent memory. If he cannot achieve something here by the midterm elections, his presidency, at least in terms of this region, is probably doomed to complete failure. Hence, one imagines, the sudden push to bring the two sides to the bargaining table; as well as the not coincidental use of Hillary Clinton to do it. The president appears to have accepted, at least temporarily, his complete lack of credibility among the parties involved.

Unfortunately, this latest push by Obama, like his previous attempts at tackling the Arab-Israeli conflict, is likely to achieve precisely the opposite of the president’s intentions. Its most likely short-term outcome is the destabilization of a workable status quo and a possible resurgence in violence. Two deadly shootings on the roads of the West Bank over the past week may be warning signs that this has already begun. Ironically, Obama has sold his position on the Middle East on the grounds that “the status quo is unsustainable,” as his vice-president put it; but as a result of his policies, mostly driven by electoral considerations irrelevant to the Middle East, it is Obama himself who has rendered the situation unsustainable. A status quo may not seem like much to a man with messianic pretensions, but in the Middle East it is usually hard won and nothing to be trifled with.

The alternatives, one fears to say, are usually much worse, as this particular chief executive appears determined to learn for himself.

Benjamin Kerstein is Senior Writer for The New Ledger.

The Return of Tony Blair

Tony Blair

Tony Blair has returned to the front pages here in the UK. His memoir, A Journey: My Political Life (released this week), outlines his explosive relationship with Gordon Brown, discusses Northern Ireland, Iraq, Kosovo, domestic reform and a range of other issues. He gave an in-depth interview on the BBC last night which is well worth viewing (unfortunately I fear it is only available in the UK).

There are several things that stand out. Firstly, it is clear that the strategic calculations that led Blair into Afghanistan and Iraq remain undiminished. On Afghanistan, ‘the key thing is to withdraw based on the job being done’. To Blair this is not only a national security issue, but also a very obvious moral one:

The Taliban, just a few days back were going to stone a couple to death because they’re in love. You can’t compromise with that. You’ve got to take it on.

He is also still clearly in favour of taking military action against Iran, who – along with al-Qaeda – he blames for the bloodshed in Iraq after the invasion:

I think it is wholly unacceptable for Iran to have nuclear weapons capability…I think we’ve got to be prepared to confront them, if necessary, militarily. I think there is no alternative to that if they continue to develop nuclear weapons. They need to get that message, loud and clear.

This is a position more hawkish than that of not only President Obama, but also the current Prime Minister, David Cameron (who also opposed the surge in Iraq) .

Blair – unlike, for example, Attorney General Eric Holder – also speaks very candidly about Islamism and the notion that the west is somehow responsible for the extremist horror of the Taliban or al-Qaeda. I will quote at length, just because it is so unusual nowadays for a British politician to speak in such stark terms. It is the kind of rhetoric that Blair has always done so well:

The fact is the reason why it’s been tough in Iraq is because people are driving car-bombs into crowded markets and trying to kill the first 20, 30, 40, 50 people they see. That is evil and wrong, and we should be standing up against it and fighting it. We shouldn’t be sitting there saying, “Well, maybe these people are just like that and we should just let them get on with it”…this movement [Islamism] is still there. It is, I’m afraid, still strong. It has a narrative that reaches into a far larger part of the population, that is do to with the West and Islam and so on and you’ve got to confront it…we should stop being in a situation where we think we’ve caused this. We haven’t caused this. If you’re a Muslim in this country, in Britain, you’ve got greater freedom than many Muslims in Muslim countries…I know it’s difficult, it will take a long time but if we, in Europe, decide the pain is too great to stand alongside America, that’s fine but we’ll find in the end we’re obliged to deal with it at a later time and in an even more difficult and acute way. And if Iran ends up with a nuclear weapon, do not be under any doubt at all that will change the entire balance of power in the most troubled region of the world.

Another major politician that spoke in a similar vein was, of course, President Bush. This is one of the peculiarities about the centre-left Blair. On foreign policy and national security, he is far more closely aligned intellectually to Bush than he will ever be to Obama. Blair is glowing in his praise of the former President in a way that no other significant political figure in the UK would ever dare to be. In his memoirs, he states that:

I had come to like and admire George. I was asked recently which of the political leaders I had met had the most integrity. I listed George near the top. Some people were aghast… thinking I was joking. He had genuine integrity and as much political courage as any leader I ever met. He was, in a bizarre sense… a true idealist.

Yet his praise of Obama is far more qualified. Discussing Obama’s Cairo speech of June 2009, in which he attempted to address the ‘Muslim world’:

It was part an apology, and taken as such. The implicit message was: We have been disrespectful and arrogant; we will now be, if not humble, deeply respectful. But join us, if you will. The trouble is: respectful of what, exactly? Respectful of the religion of Islam, President Obama would say, and that is obviously right; but that should not mean respectful of much of the underlying narrative which many within Islam articulate in its politics today.

Both Obama and Blair were swept to power on a wave of frenzied popularity, but I’m not sure if there would have been a lot of similarities beyond that. Certainly, Blair sees Islamism as a fundamental threat to western security in a way Obama would appear not to. And Blair’s answer on whether the west has what it takes to overcome this threat?

I hope so. But it’s got to recover its confidence in itself.

This is hardly a resounding vote of confidence in the west. But it makes it no less true.

Robin Simcox is a Research Fellow at the Centre for Social Cohesion.

The Greatest Collection of Nightmares on Earth

This was an interview I did recently with Michael Totten. – Benjamin Kerstein

TEL AVIV — I learn most of what I know about the Middle East from the people who live here, and I was a bit shocked when I discovered, years ago, that many reporters—especially wire agency reporters—absorb most of what they know, think, and believe about the region from other journalists. I didn’t know anyone, local or foreign, in the Middle East when I first got here, and I initially had to rely on the people I met randomly in cafes and bars and in person via the Internet to teach me what’s going on and how the place works. All my information came from the street. Most of my understanding still comes from the street—not from on high, not from newspapers or press releases, and not from foreign reporters who do not live here. Eventually I worked my way up to the prime minister’s office in Lebanon, and I’ve almost gotten that far now in Israel, but my real education has taken place during long sessions in cafes and bars with Arabs, Kurds, and Israelis.

Benjamin Kerstein’s name will appear on the Acknowledgements page of my book when it comes out in the spring because he has taught me an enormous amount about Israel during the time I have known him. I met him five years ago when I first came here from Lebanon, when Israel was still a partially Arabized abstraction in my eyes. He was one of the first people who humanized the place for me, and he taught me more than he knows about the Israeli people and how they see themselves and their place on earth and in history. The parts of my book that take place here are better than they would be if I did not know him.

It finally occurred to me during this trip that I should meet him for coffee and record our conversation so you can learn about Israel the way I do.

MJT: So what’s it like to read about Israel in the foreign press?

Benjamin Kerstein: Surreal.

MJT: How so?

Benjamin Kerstein: It rarely bears any resemblance to the country I live in, mainly because it either deals only with the conflict or because the news is produced by people who live in the English-speaking Jerusalem bubble.

MJT: Tell me about the English-speaking Jerusalem bubble.

Benjamin Kerstein: There’s a large population of English speakers in Jerusalem. The people who speak English tend to gather around each other, especially if they’re in the higher reaches of government or the media. They tend to hang out with other English-speaking people. They go to the places where such people congregate, they read English-language newspapers, and they watch English-language television. They have very little contact with the rest of Israel, which is predominantly Hebrew-speaking.

Tel Aviv is quite cosmopolitan, but if you go to the development towns in the south or to the towns in the north and in the Galilee, there are Hebrew-speaking and Arabic-speaking populations there. Journalists have almost no contact with this world. What they portray as Israeli is a corner of a corner of a corner of this country.

So when we read about Israel in the foreign press—especially if we know about the English-speaking bubble in Jerusalem, or if we’ve ever dealt with the media in Jerusalem—we recognize almost instantly the same themes over and over and over again. All you usually get is the view of a closed subculture, which is not even interesting in my opinion.

MJT: A lot of these journalists don’t even socialize with English-speaking Israelis. I know they don’t because I’ve met some of them. I know who they hang out with and how disconnected they are. They hang out with each other and with other foreigners. That strikes me as bizarre because almost all my friends here are Israelis. Likewise, most of my friends in Lebanon are Lebanese.

Benjamin Kerstein: You find this sort of thing everywhere. People with shared interests and a shared language congregate. Hebrew isn’t a supremely difficult language to learn, but if you don’t have to learn it, you won’t. There are people who have lived in Jerusalem for thirty years who haven’t learned Hebrew because they don’t have to. This affects their opinions, it affects their view of the world, and it affects how they write about it.

There are Hebrew bubbles, as well, of course. Tel Aviv is a different sort of bubble. We even refer to it as ha’bua which literally means “The Bubble” in Hebrew. This problem isn’t something that only afflicts foreign language journalists. There are bubbles throughout Israeli society.

MJT: What’s the difference between the English-speaking bubble in Jerusalem and the Tel Aviv bubble?

Benjamin Kerstein: There are actually a lot of bubbles inside Tel Aviv. When we say “the bubble,” we’re generally referring to the wealthy and upper-middle class people associated with the high-tech boom. Some use the term to refer to the more freakish elements of Tel Aviv—the artists, the musicians, and the homosexual population that’s way more “out” than any other in Israel, and certainly more “out” than in any other place in the Middle East. [Laughs.]

MJT: Without a doubt.

Benjamin Kerstein: So the phrase is used as a catch-all to describe the high-fashion avant-garde population of Tel Aviv that is actually somewhat parochial. Tel Aviv is the New York City of Israel. It’s at once very cosmopolitan and very parochial.

MJT: Yes, New York is like that.

Benjamin Kerstein: People outside New York will refer to a New York mentality, but at the same time, inside New York there are a billion different subcultures. It’s the same in Tel Aviv.

MJT: Right.

Benjamin Kerstein: The religious movement here also has a bubble of its own. The settler movement lives in a bubble. The Hebrew-speaking media lives in one of its own, especially the television media.

MJT: What is it that outsiders tend not to understand about Israel? I’m not asking because I want to pick on them, but because I don’t want to be clueless myself.

Benjamin Kerstein: The first thing visitors notice is that Israelis are prickly. Native-born Israelis are called sabras. The sabra is a cactus fruit that has prickly thorns on the outside, but is soft and sweet on the inside. That’s how Israelis view themselves. We can be aggressive and rude, but once you get to know us, we love you and we want you to marry our sisters and brothers.

What outsiders first encounter is that, and they often tend to base their view of Israelis on that first impression. And they either react negatively or are enthralled by it. They either see us as boorish, violent, and obnoxious, or as honest, tough, and straight-talking but also sentimental and lovable. But either way, they rarely see what’s underneath.

Amos Oz once gave the best description of us. He said there is an Israel of the day, and an Israel of the night. Israel during the day is a prosperous and cosmopolitan Mediterranean society, but at night it’s the greatest collection of nightmares on the face of the earth. Everyone here, at one point or another, has seen the devil.

Although there’s a general awareness of the Holocaust, I’m not sure outsiders are aware of the depth of the sense of trauma in Israeli society. We’re a people who really are deeply wounded. Around seventy percent of the people who moved here were forced out of the places they came from. That’s true of almost all the Jews from the Muslim world. It’s true of most of the Jews from Europe who fled persecution before the Holocaust, during the Holocaust, or after the Holocaust. Very few people came here out of free choice.

MJT: Mostly just Americans, right?

Benjamin Kerstein: People from the Anglo-Saxon world, yes. Even Jews who are coming here now from France are coming to escape anti-Semitism. The Jewish community in Turkey right now is undergoing a kind of silent exodus. Initially these people come here with a feeling of liberation. They release a lot of themselves. But they also have a strong sense of trauma and resentment because of what they had to go through. Particularly in the regards to the Jews from the Muslim world, there is hardly any understanding of this on the part of outsiders. There is almost no recognition of it. Outsiders are gloriously unaware of this side of Israeli history.

Most people come here and see the conflict. They come here originally as conflict tourists, like you and me. [Laughs.] They come here for the action. They go to the West Bank, they see the checkpoints and the shootings and the riots. And they develop a loyalty to one side or the other.

There are other people who come here to see the country and have a good time. My sense is that they are astonished at the sense of normalcy here. They’re amazed that there aren’t bombs going off every day.

It’s important to understand that outsiders come here with preconceived notions.

MJT: Of course they do. I did. It’s impossible not to. I probably still haven’t kicked some of them.

Benjamin Kerstein: Some people come with preconceived notions and are changed very quickly. Others hold onto their preconceived notions and won’t ever change. Unfortunately I see that with journalists a great deal. [Laughs.] It’s a result of becoming better ill-informed, if you know what I mean. They know more than they used to after spending some time here, but they still don’t get it. They see what they’ve come to see and that’s it.

MJT: What about governments? The US and European government have their opinions about and positions on Israel, and most of their officials have never been here. They hardly know anything. They’re the ultimate outsiders, way more than conflict tourists or journalists who have at least spent some time in the place.

Benjamin Kerstein: I’m not really qualified to talk about how American and European policymakers view Israel. So much goes on behind closed doors. I don’t know how much of it is for show. I don’t know how much of what they say about Israel in public is just to protect their interests in the Arab world.

MJT: Feel free to speculate. Everyone else does.

Benjamin Kerstein: My guess is that Europe and America have a pretty simple attitude: they want a solution to the conflict. It’s a pain in the ass for them, and they’d like it to go away.

MJT: Of course. Aside from Hamas, Hezbollah, and so on, who doesn’t want it to go away?

Benjamin Kerstein: But I also think officials in the US, Europe, and elsewhere are much less naïve than their public statements make them appear. I don’t think many of them believe that the peace process, for instance, is nearly as easy as they say it should be. They say things like, “If we could just get the Israeli and Palestinians to sit down and talk, we could reach a solution.”

I think most of them are smart enough to know that isn’t true. I also think they’re smart enough to know that a lot of it isn’t Israel’s fault, but by blaming most of it on Israel they can buy themselves leverage in the Arab world. I think the Arab world understands this perfectly well, that it’s the politics of the gesture.

I have to say, though, that when foreign governments say Israel has to make concessions and take responsibility for the conflict, Israelis take it all very seriously. The charge of disproportionality during Operation Cast Lead in Gaza, the Goldstone Report—Israelis do not take into consideration the possibility that these may just be gestures. Israelis take it personally, and they become very angry. Israelis feel very strongly that the world is against them.

MJT: Why do you suppose that is?

Benjamin Kerstein: Most Israelis are here because they fled from Muslim and European countries. They don’t feel that either of those blocs have the right to lecture them about anything. Why should a country where your parents were expelled or killed have the right to tell you how to conduct yourself in a war against people who are trying to kill you today? This is something hardly any non-Israelis understand. They don’t understand how galling we find this.

Israelis are often accused of being arrogant, but they find it extremely arrogant for Europeans and Arabs to lecture them about morals, especially during a war. What has Israel ever done that is as brutal as what Europe did to the Jews, or what Arabs routinely do to even each other during armed conflicts?

I suspect, though, that a lot of the rhetoric is just that. It’s just rhetoric. If you look at what Europe actually does, in a lot of cases it’s better than what the rhetoric would suggest.

I do think Europe retains an insufficiently pessimistic attitude about the Palestinian national movement, which is perhaps out of desperation. They have to go with either Fatah or Hamas. There is no other option. Most politicians, however ideological they may sound, are basically pragmatists. They think that if Hamas has to be out of the picture, they’re going to have to rehabilitate Fatah. Otherwise, there won’t be anybody to talk to. They might be right about that, but I think they are overly optimistic about Fatah signing an agreement.

I think the smart leaders in Europe are trying to lessen the tension here now, and I think they’re doing a much better job than America is. Barack Obama actually seems to believe that he can end the conflict. He doesn’t seem to be trying to lessen the tension. He seem to be willing to exacerbate tensions if he thinks it might bring results.

MJT: What’s he doing to exacerbate tension that Europe is not?

Benjamin Kerstein: Calling for a settlement freeze.

MJT: But the Europeans have been doing that all along.

Benjamin Kerstein: Yeah, but it has less bite to it. They don’t have much clout here. They have never been able to produce any results. When the US says it, though, the Palestinians are forced to respond to it. If Obama calls for a settlement freeze, Mahmoud Abbas can’t negotiate until after a settlement freeze. When Europe calls for a settlement freeze, Abbas can dismiss it as irrelevant and remain in peace talks with Israel, but he can’t be softer on Israel than America is.

MJT: How would you distinguish between fair criticism of Israel—and even unfair criticism of Israel, for that matter—and outright anti-Semitism?

Benjamin Kerstein: I think a lot of it is a question of rhetoric. A lot of the criticism is fair, but we often hear criticism which is frankly psychotic—that we’re using poison gas, for instance, or poisoned candies to kill Palestinian children. That we poisoned the water in Gaza to prevent reproduction. That sort of thing.

Sometimes the rhetoric is so over-the-top and so vitriolic that it seems to be motivated by a violence that can’t be explained away as strident criticism. Comparisons of Israel to Nazi Germany, for instance. Accusations of genocide. Accusations that are clearly—and this, I think, is the most important—accusations which are clearly drawn from the vocabulary and iconography of classic anti-Semitism.

The “Israel Lobby” trope is a big part of this. You can criticize a group of people who are seeking to influence the United States government, but if you read what is actually being said by the critics of the so-called “Israel Lobby,” it comes straight out of the classic anti-Semitic myth of overwhelming Jewish power. I think that’s where the distinguishing factor comes in.

There is also a great deal of criticism of Israel that isn’t criticism. Criticism implies a certain degree of rationality, analysis, and objectivity. Much of what is regarded as criticism is actually an assault. It is intended to wound and cause pain. It is intended to demonize. The way, for example, some people off-handedly accuse Israel of genocide, as if this is not even in question. This, to me, is obviously intended to be as hurtful as possible. I can’t even begin to explain to you how offensive the Nazi comparison is.

MJT: Try.

Benjamin Kerstein: It’s like a person who raped and murdered your child stands up in court and says you did it. That’s what it feels like. It’s difficult to even respond because it’s so unthinkably cruel to say something like that. To compare us to our worst enemies, enemies who decimated us, our fathers, our grandfathers within living memory—it’s not just that this isn’t within the realm of rational discourse, it isn’t even in the realm of human decency.

The issue of human decency is a big one. It may be difficult to define, but whenever criticism crosses that line, that, to my mind, is where anti-Semitism begins. Anti-Semitism ultimately is a refusal to accord basic human decency to the Jewish people. It’s a refusal to relate to a certain group of people with the common human decency with which you would relate to anybody else.

That’s what racism is, essentially. If you saw someone being beaten up in the street, you’d try to stop it if you were capable. At least you would think it was bad.

MJT: You would call the police.

Benjamin Kerstein: Exactly. But a racist would see a black person being beaten up in the street and be indifferent to it or even think it’s a good thing.

MJT: What do you think about people who say they aren’t anti-Semitic, just anti-Zionist? They don’t have a problem with, say, Jews in New York, but they intensely hate Israel. I know many Arabs like this.

Benjamin Kerstein: Again, you have to look at what they’re saying. Do they even have any idea what they’re criticizing? A great deal of what I see out there that’s referred to as anti-Zionism doesn’t actually make any reference to Zionism. They don’t know anything about Zionism. They have a few quotes from Theodore Hertzl, a few quotes from David Ben-Gurion, and the rest is your standard “Israelis are racist, Israelis are genocidal, Israelis are Nazis.” And this is called anti-Zionism. Legitimate anti-Zionism would have to engage in some way with Zionism.

MJT: “Zionist” is often just used as an epithet.

Benjamin Kerstein: Exactly.

MJT: So can you briefly define Zionism for people who aren’t really sure what it is?

Benjamin Kerstein: Zionism is a group of ideologies which try to deal with the question of what it means to be Jewish in the modern world and how the Jewish people should deal with being in the modern world. The answer Zionism has almost always advocated is that the Jewish people need political sovereignty in a nation-state. There was a small group in the 1920s and ‘30s who wanted a bi-national state with the Arabs and believed Zionism could be fulfilled that way, but they were very much on the fringe, and since the founding of the State of Israel, those non-state variations have pretty much fallen by the wayside. Since 1948, Zionism has been more or less defined by the nation-state of Israel.

It’s more complicated than that, obviously, but here are the basics of Zionism: First, the Jewish people are a people, and because they are a people, they are entitled to self-determination in their own homeland by right and not by sufferance. And that homeland is the land of Israel. There’s a debate within Zionism itself about whether the Jewish state can be in only part of the land of Israel and what exactly is the land of Israel in terms of borders, but it has to be in the land of Israel.

MJT: It can’t be in Uganda.

Benjamin Kerstein: Exactly.

MJT: Would you say that those who describe themselves as anti-Zionist are saying, whether they intend to or not, that Israel has no right to exist?

Benjamin Kerstein: That would be true by definition.

Now, you could say that Gandhi’s anti-Zionism was at least internally consistent with his pacifism and other aspects of his ideology. I would say he was historically wrong, but you can make the argument that he was anti-Zionist but not anti-Semitic. And you can certainly say that certain Haredi groups who base their entire worldview on the Torah and oppose a secular state of Israel for religious reasons are not anti-Semitic.

But I don’t see how you can support self-determination for Palestinians while declaring yourself anti-Zionist—and therefore opposing self-determination for Jews—without being anti-Semitic. If you support self-determination for one people, you cannot deny it to another. And I do not accept that the Jewish people are not a people. It’s historically wrong, it’s culturally wrong, it’s objectively wrong on every level.

I also don’t see how someone can support the self-determination of other non-Jewish peoples while describing themselves as anti-Zionists and say they aren’t anti-Semitic.

But you can be anti-Zionist without being anti-Semitic if you say, for instance, that you’re opposed to the idea of the nation-state in general. I think you’d be unrealistic, a utopian dreamer with a totally irrelevant argument, but I could believe that you’re not an anti-Semite. But I think there are very few people out there who genuinely believe that. Maybe some anarchists feel that way.

MJT: What do you think of people who say the Palestinians have a fake made-up identity? Some insist the Palestinians are just part of a monolithic undiversified Arab mass.

Benjamin Kerstein: It’s not my business to tell the Palestinians whether or not they exist. It’s also not their business to tell me whether or not I exist. If I demand that from them, they have the right to demand that from me.

I think people who say the Palestinians don’t exist are…myopic, to put it delicately.

Some of this, though, is just reciprocity, people throwing rhetorical hand grenades back and forth. They say we don’t exist, so some of us say they don’t exist. The Palestinian national charter says very straightforwardly that the Jews are not a people. Now, there are some Israelis who say the Palestinian national identity didn’t exist until after 1948, which is not necessarily untrue. You can make the argument that Palestinian national identity as we know it is basically a product of the Nakba.

MJT: Before 1948, the Palestinians of Gaza said they were Egyptians. Today, though, they’re different. Gaza is not a distant suburb of Cairo. Over time it has become something else. Egyptians think so, too. Egyptians don’t look at the people of Gaza and see themselves. Egypt is walling them off.

Benjamin Kerstein: Either way, it’s not my right to define other people. To say they aren’t a people doesn’t strike me as an honorable argument. I have to agree that the Palestinians have the right to self-determination, but I also have the right to say that they don’t have the right to determine themselves upon the destruction of Israel.

MJT: Zionism doesn’t have anything to say about Arabs, does it?

Benjamin Kerstein: Not a great deal. Zionism is concerned with Jewish rights and sovereignty in the modern world. Its efforts have always been in that direction. It doesn’t have any position on Arabs. None of the things that all forms of Zionism share have much to do with the Arabs or any other non-Jews. This is true of almost all national liberation movements. They tend to be very parochial and inward-looking.

MJT: The Palestinians are a bit unusual.

Benjamin Kerstein: In what sense?

MJT: They define themselves in opposition to you.

Benjamin Kerstein: Yes, they do.

MJT: The Lebanese identity, for instance, has nothing at all to do with Israel. There is an Egyptian national identity that would be the same even if Israel didn’t exist. The Palestinian identity, though, was defined in opposition to Israel.

Benjamin Kerstein: Yes. One of the biggest obstacles to peace is the degree to which that’s true. Making peace with Israel might feel like losing part of their identity to a certain degree, or at least losing any sense of coherence to their identity. I don’t know how relevant this is, though. The Palestinians believe themselves to be a people, and therefore they are. I don’t have the right to argue with them about it. I only have the right to say their rights are not unlimited, that we have rights, too, and they need to recognize ours. I won’t go any farther than that. I’m not going to say Palestinian identity is a conspiracy or a lie. This goes back to the issue of common human decency. It simply demands that you extend a certain amount of reciprocity to someone else.

MJT: How optimistic are you about resolving this conflict within your lifetime?

Benjamin Kerstein: I don’t know. Anything can happen in the Middle East. Everything can change tomorrow, but I’m pessimistic. I don’t expect to see it during my lifetime. It’s always best to gamble on pessimism in this part of the world. Things fall apart here. Instability is the norm. Stability is temporary and can only be achieved and maintained with great effort. Order here tends toward collapse.

I am a long-term optimist, though. The conflict does reach states that are manageable for certain lengths of time, and it seems like these are increasing. The outbreaks of violence get less severe as time goes on. There hasn’t been a major war since 1973.

MJT: The war in Lebanon in 1982 wasn’t major?

Benjamin Kerstein: No, because Israel wasn’t facing the full weight of an enemy army during that war. There hasn’t been a full-on war, with the marshalling of all available resources between the states in this region since 1973. All the wars since then have been limited to a certain degree. And the Second Lebanon War was less severe than the first one.

MJT: It was, but the next one will probably be a lot worse. Everyone thinks it will be worse, in both Lebanon and in Israel.

Benjamin Kerstein: We may be taking a terrible turn. I hope not, but it’s a real possibility.

MJT: But you’re also right that anything could happen. If the Iranian people remove their government, it could change everything.

Benjamin Kerstein: That may ultimately be the only solution, but nobody knows. Nobody really knows anything.

MJT: What do you think will happen here if Iran gets nuclear weapons? I’m assuming here that Iran won’t actually nuke Tel Aviv, but will occasionally threaten to do it.

Benjamin Kerstein: I don’t know. Israelis have learned to put up with a lot. My guess is that our reaction would be to go public with our own nuclear program, if it exists. [Laughs.] We may end up in a state of uneasy deterrence, like with India and Pakistan.

MJT: India and Pakistan have come close to nuclear war a couple of times.

Benjamin Kerstein: That’s true.

I think Israeli society will endure. We’ve faced existential threats in the past. People forget that. The military power the Arab states tried to bring to bear against Israel in the 1960s and 1970s would have been just as destructive as a nuclear bomb. Israel prevailed against them from a weaker position. Still, this is an outcome everyone should do everything possible to avoid. I don’t have enough insider information, though, to know what is actually going on.

MJT: Nobody does.

Benjamin Kerstein: Nobody does. The real question here is the United States. Barack Obama clearly doesn’t want to give the green light on a military strike, but neither did George W. Bush. The United States wants to try to make this work without a war.

MJT: Obviously that would be preferable.

Benjamin Kerstein: Of course. A war of that size would be of immense danger to Israel.

MJT: Absolutely. Hezbollah has an enormous missile arsenal now and would almost certainly use it. I would be surprised if they didn’t.

Benjamin Kerstein: Yeah. If it turns into a large scale conflict, it will be the biggest war since 1973. None of our commanding officers have ever fought a war of that size. Israel has one of the best armies in the world, but all armies are capable of breaking.

MJT: A war in Lebanon and Iran at the same time would be a catastrophe.

Benjamin Kerstein: We’re a small country with limited resources. We can’t sustain a huge conflict indefinitely. So, yes, avoiding that would be best. At the same time, though, that suggests that we should strike as early as possible in order to eliminate the threat. Ultimately it’s out of our hands.

MJT: How many Israelis do you suppose would support a unilateral strike on Iran if it came to that?

Benjamin Kerstein: Ninety percent.

MJT: Really?

Benjamin Kerstein: Of Jewish Israelis, yes. Arab Israelis would oppose it, at least publicly. We’d have the really hard-core people on the left against it, but that’s ten percent of the public at the most. They’re really a very marginal group. Bibi Netanyahu would have overwhelming support in Israel domestically.

MJT: I assume you’re among the 90 percent.

Benjamin Kerstein: Yes. I don’t think we can risk it, particularly with Ahmadinejad. If there was a change of government there, that would be a different story. If they had a secular nationalist government, even one that still wanted nuclear weapons, I would feel differently. But Ahmadinejad is clearly—and I do not use this term lightly—a genocidal anti-Semite. He has said so as openly as a person possibly can. I don’t know what remains for him to say to convince people.

We feel—rightfully so, I think—that we can’t assume this is all just for show, that he’s just playing around. I hate to use the Hitler analogy because it’s a bit of a sucker punch, but people did say the same things about him, that he wasn’t serious. I’d like to think that from our horrendous past we have learned to take such people seriously.

So yes, I would support it. If Iran had a government that, for instance, acknowledged the Holocaust happened and that it was bad, I might feel differently. Ahmadinejad seems to be at least a little bit mentally ill. He doesn’t strike me as a well man. [Laughs.] I don’t know if he’s clinically insane, but I don’t think he’s an adjusted person.

MJT: He isn’t very well-rounded. [Laughs.]

Benjamin Kerstein: I know there are elements in Iran that don’t want war with Israel. There are probably elements in the theocracy itself that don’t want war with Israel.

MJT: I’d be shocked if there weren’t.

Benjamin Kerstein: But can Israel gamble its survival on the possibility that they will succeed? A credible threat from the international community to use force might actually stop the Iranian government without bloodshed. That’s what I would most like to see. I don’t want to see any more dead Israelis, Persians, or Arabs.

MJT: What do Israelis think of Persians? Not the Iranian government, but Iran as a country?

Benjamin Kerstein: Iran used to be secular, open, and friendly to Israel. It once was pro-Western. Jews were at least nominally tolerated. It was seen as a place where there was a certain degree of cultural development. Persian culture used to be recognizable to us like Lebanese culture is. The Iran that is currently ruled by the theocracy is alien and threatening to us. We see it as a cold and hateful place. It’s a place that hates us. It’s a place that would prefer we didn’t exist. It represents a total rejection of us and our existence.

MJT: What about last June when millions of people took to the streets against the regime?

Benjamin Kerstein: Israelis are skeptical that they will succeed. We’re skeptical about democratization in this part of the world. Israelis were never sold on Bush’s democratization plan. The neoconservative argument for democratic peace in the Middle East is something most Israelis never bought into. Sharon a few years ago congratulated Natan Sharansky for convincing the Americans of something nobody else in the country takes seriously.

MJT: It’s funny because so many people in the West think Israel was behind it.

Benjamin Kerstein: They’re just ignorant. That’s simply false. These are claims made by people who do not know what they are talking about. They don’t know anything about Israel. They don’t know anything about our politics. They don’t speak the language. They have almost certainly never been to this country. They’re picking up on ridiculous stereotypes that have been spread around for various reasons. It’s simply inaccurate.

A lot of Israelis supported getting rid of Saddam, but we also thought you should have packed up and left right away. No one here cried for Saddam Hussein, but turning Iraq into a democracy is something most Israelis thought was impossible. Looking back on it now—and I hate to say this—I think they were right. I personally thought it was a good idea at the time, but it was probably wishful thinking.

MJT: I thought it was a good idea, too. I thought the Arabs of Iraq were more like the Kurds of Iraq than they are. That, I think, was my biggest analytic mistake. The parts of Iraq controlled by Saddam Hussein were like a black box that no one could see into. All I could see was the Kurdish part of the country that had escaped Saddam’s rule and managed to build something decent and friendly.

Benjamin Kerstein: Perhaps we should have been more Israeli in our thinking, but I am glad Saddam is gone.

MJT: So why did you move from Boston into this maelstrom?

Benjamin Kerstein: Sometimes I wonder about that myself. I can’t give you a logical answer.

MJT: That’s okay. I like it here, too, and I agree it’s not entirely logical.

Benjamin Kerstein: For me, it’s deeply personal. This place suits me. The way of life here suits me. The mentality suits me. The vastness of America is something I find hard to deal with. I find it very alienating. There are a lot of things I don’t like about living in America, though I’m not anti-American.

MJT: Benjamin, I have known you for years. I know you are not anti-American.

Benjamin Kerstein: Thank you. [Laughs.] I have a deep appreciation for America. My family comes from Latvia and would have been wiped out if it were not for America. Something like 85 or 90 percent of the Jews of Latvia were killed by the Nazis. The entire Jewish culture in Latvia was destroyed. My family never would have survived without the United States as a haven.

But I feel terribly alone in the United States. I’ve always felt that it’s a cold place where I didn’t belong.

MJT: It is warmer here.

Benjamin Kerstein: The weather is warmer, and so are the people. People also have hotter tempers. People here can be crueler than in the United States; though Americans in the Northeast—where I lived—can, in their own quiet way, be extraordinarily cruel through their silence and indifference. People in Israel are never silent, cold, or indifferent.

Life here is more on the edge. I crave being right where things are happening, on the event horizon where violent and transcendent things are occurring. I think you feel that way, too.

MJT: I do.

Benjamin Kerstein: Most people who come here voluntarily feel that way. The Middle East has always attracted people for that reason. People from all over the world come here seeking it, and not just from the West.

Everyone I know who has come here or chosen to stay here—Jew and Arab alike—has said it’s because they can’t imagine being anywhere else. I think the upheaval here is a big part of it.

MJT: Life is lived more intensely here.

Benjamin Kerstein: Much more intensely.

MJT: It’s worse here, but at the same time it’s better. On balance maybe it’s worse, but in good times I think it’s better.

Benjamin Kerstein: I have an Arab friend in Jerusalem. He’s a devout Muslim—in the best sense, not in a fundamentalist sense. His Jerusalem is different from my Jerusalem. There really are two Jerusalems—Jewish and Arab. But he has the same intense feelings toward his Jerusalem that I have toward mine. He loves and hates it in the same way I and so many other Jews do.

I am not a religious person. I don’t believe in God. But this part of the world has an intense and undeniable meaning for millions and millions of people. It just does. Some people don’t get it, but it has an extremely intense effect on the people who do.

A Forgettable Speech

My reaction to Obama’s remarks is at RealClearWorld:

President Obama’s approach to foreign policy has been better than many on the right expected, and has improved in several areas since he made those remarks. Great leaders recognize their own errors as they come, and respond to them by learning and adapting, not fighting the battles of the past. Obama had been a senator for barely 12 months when he spoke out so forcefully against the surge – in his role now, and going forward, Americans need to be confident he has learned from the experiences of the recent past, and takes that knowledge with him as he faces challenging decisions. They need to know he approaches policy with a clear vision about what he wants to achieve — that he is not just, as Greg put it, hedging his bets.

It is one thing to be wrong about a strategic policy when you are just one senator out of a hundred. It is another when you are the one man who matters, and the lives of a great many American soldiers hang in the balance.

For another view, see Fred Kaplan at Slate:

None of this is wrong. All the pieces of what he said are worth saying. But what was he saying overall? Which pieces did he mean to emphasize most? What made the message worth the high profile of a prime-time address to the nation? … Clearly, everyone wants to turn the page on Iraq, and I suspect that no matter what eruptions take place there in the coming months, you’ll have to do just that to read much about the place. Iraq is off the front burners of national policy, and it will be off the front pages of every American newspaper.

It shouldn’t be. It’s not over.

Follow Ben Domenech on Twitter.

Tony Judt and Israel

When a man dies, especially when he dies of something uniquely horrifying and grotesque, people always tend to remember him well, if for no other reason than pity for his suffering. This seems to have been the case with historian and essayist Tony Judt, who died this month from the degenerative disease known as ALS. The sight of Judt reduced, and reduced very quickly, from an intellectual in late middle age to a wheelchair-bound invalid incapable of breathing on his own would give even the most cold-hearted some pause when penning his obituary. In those last months it was, no doubt, a terrible life and, in the end, a terrible death.

If we can, however, separate a man’s work from his life – and I think we must – then his work can and must also be separated from his death. I am mostly ignorant of Judt’s most famous work, which dealt with the post-war history of Europe, though I have it on good authority that it is decidedly brilliant. I have no doubt that this is probably so. But the truth is that during the final years of his life Judt was most famous, most celebrated, and most quoted because of his outspoken belief that the state of Israel should not exist.

Some may regard such a characterization of his stance as unfair, but it is worth pointing out what lies beneath the euphemism known as the “binational state.” Judt’s stance was not a crude one, of course; it was eminently intellectual and erudite in nature. But nonetheless, Israel’s end is more or less what it amounted to, and the persistent refusal of both him and his defenders to acknowledge this was and is to their discredit.

The truth is that the ugliness of such a sentiment was always lurking just, and only just, beneath the surface of Judt’s studied liberal gentility. Looking back on his famous 2003 article, “Israel: The Alternative,” in (of course) The New York Review of Books, what is most striking is how, perhaps because of the anger aroused by Judt’s thesis, its crudeness and sometimes outright malicious violence was left unremarked at the time. Judt refers to president Bush, for example as “a ventriloquist’s dummy, pitifully reciting the Israeli cabinet line,” refers to Ehud Olmert as a fascist, quotes the left-wing Israeli demagogue Avraham Burg (long a punchline in Israel itself) with approval; attacks Israel’s defenders for speaking “glibly and irresponsibly of resurgent anti-Semitism when Israel is criticized,” which would come as a surprise, no doubt, to the many Jews who have recently arrived here as a result of antisemitic violence in countries such as France; and quite glibly regurgitates a conspiracy theory about the war in Iraq, claiming, apparently without the slightest misgivings, that “For many in the current US administration, a major strategic consideration was the need to destabilize and then reconfigure the Middle East in a manner thought favorable to Israel.” As if to drive the point home, he inquires, “Which war are we fighting?”

Judt did not, of course, start raving about the USS Liberty and the Zionist Occupation Government, but a great deal of this is quite ugly enough, and, it must be said, remarkably childish for an intellectual revered for his measured erudition. Judt liked to pretend that he was idiosyncratic in his politics, but in reality, he shared the prejudices of the liberal establishment of which he was a part, and his sentiments in regard to Israel bear this out, as do his justifications for them. Israel, he claimed, “has imported a characteristically late-nineteenth-century separatist project into a world that has moved on, a world of individual rights, open frontiers, and international law.” It was, he wrote, “an anachronism” in “a world where nations and peoples increasingly intermingle and intermarry at will; where cultural and national impediments to communication have all but collapsed; where more and more of us have multiple elective identities and would feel falsely constrained if we had to answer to just one of them.”

It is, perhaps, too generous to call such sentiments a fantasy. It is one thing to claim that such a world would be a better place, it is quite another to claim that it already exists, and that Israel ought to dissolve itself in order to join the utopia. The desperation with which Judt – and, one presumes, his defenders – believed in its existence, however, is perhaps telegraphed by the degree to which he had to misrepresent reality in order to do so. “Western civilization today,” he claimed, “is a patchwork of colors and religions and languages, of Christians, Jews, Muslims, Arabs, Indians, and many others—as any visitor to London or Paris or Geneva will know.”

One doesn’t really know what to do with statements like this, except to note that they are absurd, and perhaps further to note that this harmonious patchwork has resulted in very serious tensions and violence in both London and Paris, as well as many other places around Europe, and that the entire continent is now very near the edge of a major social crisis as a result of its failure to integrate its new minorities (and, in some areas, majorities) into the larger fabric of civilization. One can lament this, assign blame for it, or wish that it were otherwise, but one cannot pretend that it is otherwise when it manifestly is not. Ironically enough, in using today’s Europe as an example of what Israel ought to do, Judt was giving it a fairly good example what it probably ought to do its best to avoid.

Follow Benjamin Kerstein on Twitter.

North Korea and South Africa: A Study in Hypocrisy

After less than three weeks, FIFA has closed its investigation into allegations that North Korea punished players and coaching staff of its spectacularly unsuccessful World Cup team, calling the allegations “baseless.”  Kay Seok, a researcher with Human Rights Watch, details the allegations in an article in the Asia Times:

Radio Free Asia quoted three independent sources saying that the football team had gone through a humiliating six-hour session of public criticism on July 2 at the Pyongyang People’s Cultural Palace. Sports Minister Pak Myong-chol, and a TV commentator, Ri Dong-kyu, who is also a professor with the Sports Science Institute, led the session, the report said, and 400 other athletes affiliated with other sports associations and government agencies took part.

While the players and coach reportedly stood in front of the audience, Ri was joined by Sports Ministry representatives in criticizing the weaknesses of each player. Next, some other participants followed suit. Toward the end of the meeting, it was the turn of the coach, Kim Jong-hun, and then each of his players was compelled to criticize him.

The allegations are generally sourced to Radio Free Asia, but like every other news organization in the free world, RFA has no Pyongyang correspondent, so any information not supplied by the state itself must come from anonymous North Korean sources.  These allegations gained additional credence from “unspecified evidence” supplied by Chung Mong-Joon, the powerful South Korean former chairman of Hyundai and president of the South Korean Football Association.  Chung and the Hyundai Group have traditionally supported more-or-less unrestricted aid to, and accommodation of, North Korea, making Chung an unlikely accuser.  So are the reports true?  I have no way of knowing for certain, and neither does FIFA, unless it has found some means heretofore lost on the World Food Program, the International Atomic Energy Agency, and the U.N. Development Program for extracting transparency from Kim Jong Il’s regime.  Alas, it has not.  FIFA’s web site doesn’t include a report or even a description of its investigation, but it does explain how it knows that all is well in Pyongyang.  Because the North Koreans told them so, silly:

In the letter, the Korea DPR FA assures FIFA that Mr Kim Jong Hun, head coach of the national team, and all the other members of the national team are training as usual and that the members of the team will soon take part in the 16th Asian Games. The association also indicates that there were no sanctions to the coach and that the reports on this matter were baseless.

Furthermore, the Korea DPR FA clarified that the election of the president of the association held on 19 June was held in accordance with the statutes of the association and were not affected by any result of the team at the 2010 FIFA World Cup South Africa™, recalling that at the time of the election the team had only played one match against Brazil and had shown a good level of play.

With all of the information at hand, and having checked all of its sources, FIFA has decided to close the matter.

I can only wonder if FIFA’s investigation of Uday Hussein was equally exhaustive.  But instead of speculating about what’s unknowable to you, me, and (most significantly) FIFA, I’ll ask a more fundamental question:  Why did FIFA invite North Korea to the World Cup at all?

Over the last decade, thousands of North Koreans who’ve managed to escape that wretched place have accused Kim Jong Il’s regime of atrocities as widespread and as depraved as anything witnessed on the face of Pangaea since the flight of the Khmer Rouge from Phnom Penh.  The stock answer to this question is that sports and politics should be kept separate, something I wish I had video of the FIFA management saying from Johannesburg just to illustrate the hackneyed stupidity of this argument.  That’s right, this year’s World Cup was held in a nation that was suspended from the World Cup and the Olympics for three decades because of, according to FIFA, “the racist polices of its previous government.”  In other words, FIFA suspended and later expelled South Africa for perfectly good and expressly political reasons.  FIFA’s ban was initially based on South Africa’s segregation of its soccer team, but FIFA’s site recounts with obvious pride how the ban evolved into the organization’s protest against the entire apartheid system:  “In Montreal in 1976, South Africa’s suspension was turned into an expulsion and it was only after the dismantling of the country’s divisive legislation and the start of negotiations towards a democratic society that the South Africa was restored to FIFA membership in July, 1992.”  South Africa’s apartheid regime also argued against any miscegenation between sports and politics, but the pressure from cultural and economic boycotts eventually forced South Africa to dismantle apartheid, a process I was later fortunate enough to witness first-hand.

The insistence on separating sports from politics has been self-serving nonsense, argued and applied selectively, since at least 1936 when, a year after the enactment of the Nuremberg Laws, Josef Goebbels teamed up with Leni Riefenstahl to dazzle film critics across the future Festung Europa with “Olympia.”  It was still nonsense when China tore a page from Goebbels’s playbook to turn the 2008 Olympics into a controlled and choreographed spectacle of historical and political nationalism.  China sought to route the “domestic” leg of the Olympic Torch route through Taipei, the capital of China’s only government that derives its just powers from the consent of the governed, and which China insists that everyone call “Chinese Taipei,” before reverting to its ritualistic repetition that politics must be kept out of sports.  But repressive regimes have always used international sporting events to serve their own political ends.  To Goebbels, the purpose of sports was “to strengthen the character of the German people, imbuing it with the fighting spirit and steadfast camaraderie necessary in the struggle for its existence.”  The Nazis toned down their public displays of anti-Semitism while foreign tourists were in Berlin, but shortly before the tourists arrived, they “cleansed” Berlin of about 800 Gypsies and sent them to a special camp outside Berlin.  In an eerie modern echo of this, Human Rights Watch alleged that “[a]head of and during the Beijing Olympic Games, China stepped up the arrest and repatriation of North Korean refugees and migrants.”  Of those repatriated, many undoubtedly died in camps like the one at Cheongo-Ri, satellite imagery of which I first confirmed with the help of recent defectors last year.  China also dispatched squads of thugs to escort the Olympic torch around the world.  When the torch passed through South Korea, the Chinese Embassy bused thousands of “students” to downtown Seoul, a city that briefly became for politically repressed Chinese youth what Tijuana is for sexually repressed American youth.  Photographs and video of the ensuing riot show the flag-brandishing Chinese throwing bottles, rocks, and at least one perfectly good pair of wire-cutters at peaceful protesters for human rights in North Korea and Tibet. Try telling these guys about the fastidious apartheid between sports and politics.

North Korea also upheld its long-standing tradition of making a propaganda spectacle out of absolutely everything, seizing on the 2010 World Cup for both domestic and international propaganda.  Until the reports of the criticism sessions emerged, North Korea might have claimed to have made some progress in moderating an image that has nowhere to go but up.  Some reports hold that the politicization was taken to bizarre extremes this year, even by North Korean standards:

North Korean manager Kim Jong-Hun reportedly gets coaching advice directly from the country’s diminutive dictator via an invisible cell phone.  According to ESPN.com the coach has claimed he gets “regular tactical advice during matches” from Jong Il “using mobile phones that are not visible to the naked eye. . . .  Jong Il is said to have developed the technology himself,” coach told ESPN.com.

And to think that some people wonder why I blog about North Korea.

Later, in a  match televised live in Pyongyang, North Koreans watched their team crushed 7-0 by Portugal and saw for themselves how their Dear Leader’s on-the-spot coaching did for North Korea’s soccer team what it did for North Korea’s agriculture, industry, and quality of life.  The lesson here is that unless the organizers of international sporting events are at least as determined as their more repressive participants, the regimes will exploit those events as vehicles for propaganda and excuses for repression.  In the case of South Africa, this determination really came from activists who pressured the sporting organizations.  And all of us who are at least 40 remember how intense that pressure had become by the mid-1980’s.  Few of us would have heard of “Sun City” before or after learning that it was a place that decent people wouldn’t think to go.  By 1990, when Willem DeKlerk released Nelson Mandela from his prison cell on Robben Island, South Africa was a global pariah.  Public outrage, most of it driven by liberal opinion and pop culture, forced disinvestment by multinational corporations and state and local governments, passed the Comprehensive Anti-Apartheid Act, and eventually, triggered capital flight that depressed the currency of a nation with some of the world’s greatest mineral reserves.

Contrast North Korea’s treatment to South Africa’s, and then try to put this contrast into an appropriate moral context.  When I lived in South Africa briefly in 1990, I traveled throughout the country and most of the countries surrounding it. I formed friendships with people of just about every classification into which the state still hewed people at that time, and I was invited into both black and “Asian” townships.  From this collection of observations, I bring a few relevant observations.  In the sunset of its bad old days — or, the twilight of its Reconstruction — South Africa was neither especially repressive by African standards nor an idyll of good government or social justice. Its ugly bigotry was dying hard in the Western Transvaal, where the “Net Blankes” signs were being painted over while the more subtle “Right of Admission Reserved” signs still persisted. Most whites were striving to change their ways of thinking about other races, but it still wasn’t uncommon to see whites in that verkrampte part of the country openly degrade non-whites. Granted, I was not burdened with carrying the dreaded passbook, but I did not sense the fear of the state that one felt constantly in Mugabe’s Zimbabwe or Kaunda’s Zambia. I certainly never saw the same horror among black South Africans that I saw in the eyes of the Mozambican refugees in camps in Swaziland (most parts of which really did, at least at that time, seem idyllic).  The greatest fears my white, black, and Indian friends all expressed were not of the state but of violent crime first, and then of South Africa’s dangerous roads. Social inequality was deep and wide, but a substantial percentage of enterprising black South Africans were becoming wealthy operating taxi buses, small stores, and unlicensed bars. There was widespread poverty, but almost everyone had electricity and enough to eat — even if too much of it was corn meal — and by that time, the government tolerated a proliferation of leftist township broadsheets. Some fled the repression of the state in the 1970’s and 1980’s, but political exiles were greatly outnumbered by economic immigrants from Mozambique, Zimbabwe, and even relatively prosperous Botswana.  The overall impression of South Africa in 1990 was of a place that was changing for the better, even if change would be difficult and would take time.  Who can say this about North Korea, which is now in the process of engineering its third dynastic succession to another leader with no aptitude for anything save accruing total control, and least of all, for competent governance?

Aside from having strolled around the perimeter of one room that straddles the Military Demarcation Line at Panmunjom, I can’t say that I’ve acquired the same degree of first-hand understanding of how people live in North Korea, but then again, neither can anyone else. Plenty of liberal-minded westerners who’d have gasped at the idea of visiting South African in 1985 have paid exorbitant sums to slum their way through a fixed circuit of Potemkin Pyongyang flanked by minders, or even marveled at the strange beauty of walking in a city plunged into darkness most nights.  They aren’t coming back from this with any greater understanding of North Korea unless they grasp how far the state is willing to go to deceive them. As one BBC correspondent recently put it, “I think that what surprised me most here was that they could believe that we would believe that what they showed us was for real.”  Given the extent of that society’s internal control and the mutual suspicion and snitching it encourages, I wouldn’t say that there are many North Korean exceptions to this generalization, either.  Former residents of Pyongyang I’ve met don’t claim to know much about how their fellow citizens live in Hamhung, Sinuiju, or Chongjin, and the converse is also usually true.  North Korea may be the only place on earth where there is an inversely proportional relationship between the time one spends in the country and the useful knowledge that one brings back from there, and where one can learn more by talking to defectors or studying the place on Google Earth than by going there.  North Korea is a mystery to everyone, but this always inures to North Korea’s advantage when some pesky international organization meekly asks it to comply with the same standards by which the rest of human civilization lives.

North Korea’s participation in international sporting events isn’t the only evidence of the double standard that works to Kim Jong Il’s advantage.  Last week, the news media seized on the campaign of a 13 year-old boy, who I will assume was prodded by his well-meaning liberal parents, to go to Pyongyang, meet with Kim Jong Il, and convince him to establish a “peace forest” along the Korean DMZ.  Kim Jong Il, who was packing his bags for a trip to China, snubbed the little media darling, no doubt to the immense relief of Jimmy Carter.  Maybe I just hate peace, or maybe I just know an asinine idea when I see one, but I think it would be far better to put that peace forest here, at the site currently occupied by Camp 16, which borders North Korea’s nuclear test site (for good measure, I’d include the test site, too).  The obvious response to an obviously ridiculous idea went unsaid among a liberal commentariat that advocates in the case of North Korea the precise thing it despised when Ronald Reagan wanted to offer it to South Africa — “constructive engagement.”  The liberal commentariat now supports business investment in North Korea as a means to gradually transform North Korea, a fool’s errand if ever there was one.  This policy, pursued in turns by American and South Korean governments for decades, has been a proven failure at doing anything but consolidating North Korea’s hold on power and its possession of a nuclear arsenal, even as it weakened the civilized world’s leverage to demand an end to its atrocities against its people.  To simultaneously support a boycott in the case of South Africa and  constructive engagement in the case of North Korea is the height of hypocrisy, a double standard that can’t be defended by any principled distinction.  South Africa’s ugly racism is well known, but it never extended to racial infanticide. South Africa segregated neighborhoods, hospitals, and public accommodations; North Korea simultaneously starved perhaps 2.5 million expendable citizens while spending obscenely on arms and luxuries for its ruling oligarchy.  South Africa murdered seven people and tortured hundreds more in John Vorster Square; North Korea has killed 400,000 people in a system of political prison camps with a collective area rivaling some U.S. states and a population of 200,000 men, women, and children (these statistics are necessarily rough estimates).

I have said nothing here that acquits apartheid-era South Africa of dehumanizing injustice toward the majority of its citizens, or to diminish the righteousness of the world’s outrage against that, or to criticize the commendable leadership of liberal opinion-makers in galvanizing that outrage. But the question left unanswered is this:  Why not North Korea, too?

Joshua Stanton blogs at One Free Korea.

Noa Tishby and the World

“We’ve been living with terrorism for years,” Noa Tishby says. “We know the mentality. We know what radical Islam is about. We understand it. But so many people don’t.”

It’s easy for young, beautiful actresses in a town of young, beautiful people to blend into a crowd—but Tishby stands out as a proud Israeli woman, speaking with a passionate intelligence about the country she loves.

“I’m coming at this from a different world, a different view—not from politics, but from a straightforward understanding about the way things are,” Tishby says.

Even as a young teenager in Israel, Tishby adored the process of creation. A star at a young age for her singing voice and her acting talent, Tishby was always interested in the production side of creating and telling stories, not just what happened on the stage.

“I still remember calling up the local press people and saying ‘hi, this is Noa, you don’t know me, but I want to talk to you about our show,’” she says. “It’s different in the entertainment industry here in the States, but in some ways, it’s still the same.”

Tishby has become a groundbreaking exporter, adapting successful entertainment from Israel to the U.S. market. Besides her acting roles on television and the bigscreen, she’s a co-executive producer of the first Israeli television show to become an American TV series: the award-winning drama In Treatment, starring Gabriel Byrne and populated with a host of superb character actors (it began as BeTipul in Israel). Her production company, Noa’s Arc, owns the rights to several shows in Israel and the United States, and is focused on projects that feed into that export spirit—including one of the first musicals she was in as a child, on the life of King David (a hit in Israel, it ran for twelve years).

Yet what sets Tishby apart is not just her unique career track, but her straightforward and outspoken views on international politics and the Middle East—views that she shares via her columns for The Huffington Post and on her blog.

In the current celebrity culture, Tishby knows this openness about her views can come as a surprise to people.

“I’m not an expert,” Tishby says, “I’m just saying what I think and what I know from experience, what I grew up with and hope others will understand.”

Tishby says that while many of her friends consider themselves knowledgeable about the world they live in – “they really are educated people,” she adds – but have little knowledge of the truth about Israel and the reality of life in the Middle East. She tells the story of another young woman in the industry who was surprised she didn’t have to wear a head-covering.

“There’s just a complete lack of knowledge there,” Tishby says. “Before I came to the states, I thought ‘of course the world knows how modern we are here, why wouldn’t they?’ I assumed it was obvious… Instead, I found a disappointing number of people think of it as all one big mush. Afghanistan, Israel, Saudi Arabia, as if it’s all the same… It’s a lack of understanding about how progressive Israel is, and how much human suffering and cruelty there is under the systems of nations whose views some people reflexively support.”

Tishby is a progressive, avowedly so—but her frustration with the media’s acceptance of spoon-fed storylines has led her to be more outspoken about her views.

“Again and again, we see this double standard. Davutoglu calls the flotilla their 9/11,” Tishby said. “But how many Kurds did the Turk kill in the last few years?”

On a recent trip to Gaza, Tishby was surprised to find that one group of friends who share her views had no knowledge of Gilad Shalit.

“He’s been rotting with Hamas for four years, he’s held in complete confinement, he’s kidnapped, not even a prisoner of war, with no visitors from the United Nations and no contact from the outside world,” said Tishby. “And yet people want to talk to me about the Geneva Conventions?”

Tishby’s frustrations regarding the coverage of the flotilla incident are still palpable—she thinks it exemplifies how Israel works and how the enemies of Israel are thinking and adapting to the new media environment.

“Not all the people on the flotilla knew how they were going to be used, but the leadership certainly did,” said Tishby. “Those images and videos were pushed online almost immediately, used to define the incident.”

She strongly believes there needs to be a more sophisticated response not just from Israel but among her supporters to push back against these storylines and keep people informed of the truth.

“Within Israel, I think people don’t see how skewed the view is outside. Israel is being looked at with a magnifying glass. When Israel responds, it’s very deliberate, but that also slows things down,” Tishby said. “We need to create a nexus of information. Distributing that information real-time, will take a great deal of work—I think something along those lines needs to exists, and needs to be something that’s accessible around the world, moving at the speed people need today.”

Tishby favors a two state solution, and feels the progress in Ramallah is real. She points to Vice President Joe Biden’s recent appearance on Charlie Rose, where he said the current conflict “would end tomorrow if Hamas agreed to form a government with the Palestinian Authority on the conditions the international community has set up.”

“He’s a centrist, and I think he understands this,” said Tishby. “And he couldn’t be more right. I wish more people understood what is obvious to Israelis—that the sponsorship of Hamas and Hezbollah is connected intrinsically with the sponsorship of Al Qaeda, the bombings in Bali, Madrid, London, Tel Aviv—they never make the connection.”

Others have urged Tishby to consider taking up her own political career, but she says that’s not in the offing—for now.

“Being in the entertainment industry, being an actress and producer, altering people’s views—not just on politics, or Israel—is something that moves me,” said Tishby. “I’m taking this road for now, and later on, who knows?”

Tishby does think that there are still ways to tell this story to the American people. She is working on projects that can tell this story in innovative ways, bringing the truth about her experience and the experiences of other Israelis into American lives not through the news headlines but through the storytelling of Hollywood.

Her aim is not necessarily to convince the viewer of Israel’s rightness—“ I do not support the Israeli government all the time, I think we should do whatever it takes to have a peace agreement , stop the settlements immediately and make tough decisions. Of course no nation is right about everything,” but she wants to cause many people to reexamine the way they think about Israel, to learn more and decide for themselves.

“Israel is on the front line of a global conflict, a war that pits a medieval approach to human rights, an authoritarian way of controlling how we live, against societies built on the freedom of men and women,” Tishby says. “My issue is not with people who decide to support or not support Israel—it’s with people who are aligning themselves with people who, if the political left really looked at what they are doing, stand for nothing in common with their aims. All I am trying to do is to get people to reexamine the reality of what’s happening, to reconsider their preconceptions, and to see the truth—it’s not always black and white.”

Follow Ben Domenech on Twitter.

Lee Smith and the Clash of Arab Civilizations

Let’s begin with a few questions: How much do America’s confrontations with radical Islam around the world today have anything to do with America, and how much do they have to do with internal struggles within Islam? What if the clash of civilizations is really a clash of Arab civilizations? What if in seeking to answer “why they hate us,” we’ve been asking the wrong question all along?

Lee Smith, the author of The Strong Horse: Power, Politics, and the Clash of Arab Civilizations and a columnist for Tablet, advances an interesting and convincing argument, based both on history and his own experiences in the Middle East, which offers an alternative view to what you’ll read in the vast majority of newspapers and books today. It’s a view shared by some in the foreign policy community, and Smith’s book offers an incredible introduction to it.

I spoke to him last week, and asked him both about what he sees within the current conflict over Imam Rauf’s Ground Zero mosque (read more from Smith on that question here), and what he believes to be on the path ahead for the United States as we interact with the Muslim world.

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You can subscribe to our New Ledger podcasts by following the links above, and if you’d like to email us, you can do so at coffee[at]newledger.com. We hope you enjoy the show.

Follow Ben Domenech on Twitter.

The Cliches of Civilizations

My latest post at The Compass is a response to Ayaan Hirsi Ali:

We cannot understand the world without understanding that culture is just one among many motivations, and that in a global economy, factions and individuals push for the goals of commerce and liberal democracy against the short-sighted aims of the warrior-state. But individuals, nearly all of them motivated by self-preservation, have far less force and will than nation-states, and Huntington’s thesis predicted a specific kind of clash occurring at a much larger level, involving unified groups of nation-states, and begetting a specific kind of conflict – one that has not occurred.

Are there cultural clashes going on in the world today? Yes, absolutely, and particularly on the individual and factional level. Perhaps this serves as a motivation for accepting Huntington’s brand of false homogeneity, which promises simplicity and anecdote instead of complexity and data. Yet considering his predictions are undercut both by history and by the lessons of the present day, let’s agree that we’d be better off examining the world as it is, not as we wish it to be.

Read more critiques from Ali’s colleagues here. While I respect her greatly as an author, there’s more complexity here than just a monolithic Islamic civilization. I’ll have more on this next week with a thought provoking podcast with Lee Smith, author of The Strong Horse.

Follow Ben Domenech on Twitter.

- September 9, 2010 -

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