RE-THINK THE MIDDLE EAST

by Michael Lame, posted January 19, 2010

Punishing the Gazans

I attended a panel discussion on Gaza at the Brookings Institution last week. The panelists eloquently depicted the suffering of the more than one million Palestinians living in Gaza under the siege-like restrictions imposed by the Israelis and Egyptians.

One of the panelists pointed out that this is a clear-cut case of collective punishment, since all the people of Gaza are adversely affected – not just the Hamas establishment and Islamic Jihad militants. Many varieties of foodstuffs cannot be imported. Building materials for reconstruction are prohibited. Movement of people in and out of the Gaza Strip is severely restricted. Unemployment is rampant, as is malnutrition.

Since collective punishment is widely assumed to be unethical, the Brookings panel members duly condemned the Israelis for imposing the closure and urged the US government to insist that its ally raise the siege.

But that’s not really the end of the story. Let’s ask ourselves: Is collective punishment always wrong? Or should we even entertain this question, given that according to international humanitarian law, i.e., the laws of war, collective punishment is a war crime?

Geneva Conventions

What exactly is “collective punishment”? The term does not appear in the Hague Conventions or in the original Geneva Conventions. Article 33 of the Fourth Geneva Convention, adopted on August 12, 1949, states that:

“No protected person may be punished for an offence he or she has not personally committed. Collective penalties and likewise all measures of intimidation or of terrorism are prohibited. . . Reprisals against protected persons and their property are prohibited.”

Here we have “punished” in one sentence and “collective penalties” in the next. In 1977, Article 4 of Additional Protocol II to the Geneva Conventions put these words together and specifically prohibited “collective punishments”, though the term was not defined in that document. Note: Neither the United States nor Israel has ratified this protocol, though both are signatories to the 1949 Geneva Conventions.

“Collective punishment” generally refers to taking action against an entire group in response to the behavior of one or more individuals. Moreover, the offending individuals are not necessarily members of the group being punished. Collective punishment, then, consists of penalizing all members of a group, whether innocent or guilty of any hostile act.

The Geneva Conventions’ prohibition on collective punishment is limited in its application to war between countries as well as to people living under occupation. Additional Protocol II specifically concerns civilians in “non-international armed conflicts”, such as an insurrection (or an intifada).

Just as generals are said to always fight the previous war, so human rights activists try to protect people from the horrors experienced in the last armed conflict. The Geneva Conventions were written in the wake of the Second World War, with the particular atrocities of that conflict fresh in the drafters’ minds.

WWII examples of collective punishment and reprisals include the infamous 1942 case of Lidice, a Czech village that was obliterated, its entire adult male population executed, and its women and children sent to concentration camps. All this was in retaliation for the assassination of Reinhard Heydrich, a high-ranking murderous Nazi official. The assassins had no connection to the village.

The designation “collective punishment”, in principle and practice, may be applied more broadly and less lethally than in such WWII examples.

War itself is collective punishment. It adversely affects entire populations, regardless of their political affiliation or personal responsibility for any governmental acts of aggression. And war doesn’t just kill individuals. It kills groups. It kills collectively. Even a just war collectively punishes the innocent along with the guilty.

Is collective punishment ever justified?

Sanctions are collective punishment (though not within the confines of the Geneva Conventions). The world community supported sanctions against South Africa in order to end apartheid. Those sanctions hurt the South African economy, causing a deep recession. As every American knows in today’s difficult economic situation, when the economy suffers, people suffer. South Africans, black and white, were adversely affected by the sanctions and boycotts. But given the great evil that apartheid was considered to be, the world was willing to countenance the economic dislocation caused to the people of South Africa.

Collective punishment can refer to the treatment of an entire population, as in the current siege-like restrictions placed on Gaza, or to an entire country, as in the decades-old Arab boycott or in the new international campaign for boycotts, divestment, and sanctions against Israel. These Middle East examples again raise the question of whether this can be a morally acceptable tactic to use in attempting to change a political actor’s behavior.

One justification for such action is summed up neatly by Shakespeare when Bassanio urges the court in The Merchant of Venice, “To do a great right, do a little wrong…”

Since collective punishment can take many different forms in many different contexts, one can support it or oppose it on a case-by-case basis. For example, some might support collectively punishing an entire community which they consider to be oppressive, such as apartheid-era South Africa or today’s Sudan, while opposing the collective punishment of what they consider oppressed communities, such as the Palestinians.

Even after the 1977 additions, the Geneva Conventions are just that – conventions, political agreements on customs, practices, and usages, rather than definitive moral pronouncements. No matter how much such documents written in The Hague and Geneva might be revered, they are not sacred texts but rather the fallible and mutable work of the human heart and mind. Therefore these documents can be questioned, challenged, disputed, and at times even ignored.

If and when Israelis and Palestinians reach a mutually acceptable agreement, it may or may not conform to UN Security Council resolutions or other sources of international law. The only question that will matter at that point is whether the two sides are willing to live with their agreement.

I suggest that collective punishment should not automatically be ruled out as a justified means of applying pressure, whether inside or outside of the Geneva Convention parameters. Before employing it, one must examine several factors: the legitimacy of the purpose; the particular form employed, the severity of the effect, the length of the application, and the likelihood of success.

If an instance of collective punishment is justifiable, then it ought to be possible to publically communicate that in a persuasive fashion. If no one can clearly articulate why collective punishment is being applied and what the intended result is, then chances are it is indefensible. In this particular case the burden is on Israel to show convincingly why the restrictions on Gaza exist and how long they will continue.

Ending the Gazan stalemate

A way must be found to normalize life for the Gazans, without further endangering the Israelis. In this case, both sides want something they don’t currently have.

Israelis want Gilad Shalit returned. They want the risk of future rocket attacks reduced, if not eliminated. And they want a Gazan interlocutor willing to accept Israel.

Gazans want the economic and travel restrictions permanently lifted, a chance to rebuild from the damage done a year ago in Operation Cast Lead, the release of Palestinian prisoners from Israeli jails, an open passageway to the West Bank, the world’s acceptance of the political leaders they choose, and independence.

Regardless of the Geneva Conventions, neither side is likely to alter its behavior without at least some of its wants being met. If George Mitchell can help the Palestinians and Israelis mutually achieve some of their goals regarding Gaza, then this awful stalemate may come to an end. Such a limited achievement will not resolve the conflict but it could put an end to the collective punishment of people in Gaza.

by Michael Lame, posted January 11, 2010

In the wake of the Ft. Hood bloodbath and the Christmas Day attempted suicide bombing of flight 253 to Detroit, Americans are bound to ask about the attackers’ apparent religious motivation.

I have noticed a pattern in the arguments of those who claim that terrorist attacks by Muslims against Western targets have nothing to do with Islam. They claim that any apparent Qur’anic advocacy of jihad – in its violent and war-like sense – is so limited and so self-defensive in nature, that a true reading of the Qur’an will show that Islam, properly understood, is anything but bellicose. Al-Qaeda and its ilk have “hijacked” Islam.

Furthermore, they claim that the negative references to Jews and Christians in the Qur’an and hadith must be understood in context, and that context reveals that the targets of Islamic opprobrium were specific historical figures from the 7^th century and earlier.

They never claim, however, that the positive references to Jews and Christians must likewise be contextualized. The good is universal. The bad is severely circumscribed.

The problem with this approach is that, with rare exceptions, when people quote from Scripture or Shakespeare, we quote out of context. We don’t provide the background for our quotes, whether it’s “To be or not to be” or “Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s”. The point of quoting is to add weight, authority, or apt expression in order to drive a point home.

Given the length, complexity, and varied subject matter of the Tanach, the New Testament, and the Qur’an, one can find textual justification in them for everything from world war to unilateral disarmament. The war mongers and the peace mongers can all find bona fide scriptural passages to bolster their positions.

Osama bin Laden is a devout Muslim and a mass-murderer. I do not question his faith, his knowledge of the Qur’an, or his sincerity. Baruch Goldstein, who massacred 29 Muslims in Hebron in 1994, was a devout Jew. I did not question his faith, erudition, or sincerity. The acts of both were monstrous, though certainly not equivalent.

Both of them found scriptural support for their religiously-based acts. It is pointless to try to absolve Judaism and Islam by claiming that the murderers’ interpretation of their faith was wrong-headed.

There are as many Judaisms and Islams as there are practitioners of these faiths. In a world of Orthodox, Ultra-Orthodox, Conservative, Reform, and many other strands of Judaism, one cannot deny the legitimate multiplicity of interpretations of Judaism, some more militant than others. Similarly, in a world of Sunni, Shia, Sufi, Alawi, and many other varieties of Islam, one cannot convincingly claim that the jihadists are not true Muslims.

While some may find comfort in calling Judaism a religion of justice, Christianity a religion of love, and Islam a religion of peace, these gross over-simplifications do not help us cope with the Osama bin Ladens and Baruch Goldsteins of the world. Such fanatics may be religions’ bastard offspring, but thousands of Jews admire Goldstein and millions of Muslims identify with bin Laden.

Let’s not deny that the horrific acts of Nadal Malik Hasan and the near-catastrophe caused by Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab are related to Islam. Future attacks are more likely to be prevented if Muslims own up to the Islamic provenance of the problem.

As Prospero said of Caliban at the end of The Tempest (to quote out of context), “This thing of darkness I acknowledge mine.”

by Anisa Mehdi, posted on January 4, 2010

AMMAN — The headline in the Jordan Times read, “Status quo will not hold, warn Middle East experts.” In smaller typeface it read, “Russia, EU, UN must get more involved in peace; Israelis told security by force is dangerous illusion.”  It was Tuesday, December 22, 2009.  One day earlier, at the Holiday Inn on the Dead Sea, the Valdai International Discussion Club of the Russian Federation opened its one-and-a-half day conference “Middle East – 2020: Is The Comprehensive Settlement Possible?”

Unlike the Reuters reporter whose piece was picked up by the Jordan Times, I only attended the first day of the conference, but it was enough to see that the status quo is all that remains of decades of Camp David’s and other accords, resolutions and road maps.

That’s because rhetoric ruled the day at the Dead Sea. I listened in disbelief to conversations among people who really could make an impact in this region spewing age-old righteous and mean-spirited speeches at one another rather than engaging in authentic, risky, humble explorations of what they could initiate to alleviate the suffering and fear of the people — “their people — who are counting on them.

In spite of stated Russian intentions to step up as an influential broker in the Middle East arena it is clear that only fresh ideas put forth by a fresh cast of characters will put life into this deadlock, and the people who will transform the situation are yet too young.  Russian hopes will be predictably dashed upon the uncompromising battlements of today’s Palestinian and Israeli representatives who show neither sign nor commitment to paving any significant new path.  Rather, they relish the status quo of no-go and will dare nothing.

Because it would be daring to honor the thousands of lives lost in Gaza, Lebanon, Deir Yassin, Maalot, the 1996 bombing at the Central Bus Station in Jerusalem, and myriad other tragic events stealing souls over the decades, by taking steps to make sure their deaths were not in vain.  There was no bold, authentic I don’t-care-if-they-think-I’m-crazy-but-you-need-to-stop-posturing-and-start-talking-turkey statement exploding in the conference room like a truth bomb.  There was “you’re wrong and here’s why.”  Not much more.

As the manager of the Holiday Inn (where the event took place) pointed out, “We really need results.  Last year this time the Gaza war decimated not only lives there on the other side of the Dead Sea, but also devastated livelihoods here.  There are real consequences to these meetings.”

As if scripted by Hollywood, Bollywood, or DeadSeaWood, conversation about comprehensive settlement warped into all-too-predictable accusations and finger pointing. Former Russian Prime Minister Evgeny Primakov made it clear that the United States was mucking up the works by dominating the international scene; Palestinian-Israeli peace would only be possible with new players at a table with a different host.  Former Palestinian Prime Minister Ahmad Quria, in a white shirt with unbuttoned collar and gray jacket, hopelessly recalled the failure of previous pacts.  All previous agreements had been abrogated by Israel, he said, which used accords only to stall for time in which to appropriate Palestinian property.  Israeli General Yaakov Amidror, stung by Palestinian accusations, asserted that the only reason the West Bank wasn’t aflame like Gaza was thanks to the presence of Israel Defense Forces (IDF), and that Russia shouldn’t call for international intervention in this region when it didn’t welcome international forces in Georgia in 2007.

On nuclear proliferation, Efraim Inbar of Israel’s Begin-Sadat Center for Strategic Studies ruled out all hope for diplomacy in curbing Iran’s nuclear development, concluding, “all we are left with are military strikes.” On the other hand, Russians did not believe Iran had “made a political decision to build nuclear weapons” but rather wanted to follow “a Japanese model of technological development.” Palestinians wondered why Iran was even being discussed, since it does not currently have nuclear weapons, while Israel already does.

Until participants in the process are willing to detach themselves from winning and commit themselves to solving they will not make progress.  Solving will take loss on both sides.  It will take surrender and sorrow; it will involve anger, apology and humility. It will take greater courage, imagination, and vulnerability than seen at Oslo, Annapolis and Madrid. Solving requires a greater commitment to quality of life for residents of the region than to being right about what went wrong in 1948, 1967, 1992, and yesterday.

Time is the great enemy of the status quo.  Algerian Sufi-statesman Emir Abd el-Kader died 79 years before his efforts to liberate his nation from French occupation finally triumphed in 1962.  The Italian government under Mussolini executed Libyan freedom fighter Omar Mukhtar in 1931 but 20 years later, with support from the United Nations, Libya declared its independence. (“Lion of the Desert,” the movie about Mukhtar’s life directed by Moustafa Akkad was banned in Italy.) Ahmadou Bamba, who led the Senegalese in non-violent resistance to French occupation and suffered 15 years in exile, died 33 years before Senegal loosed itself of colonial rule in 1960.  In each case, time turned the status quo.

It is tragic that today’s people in power are willing to risk everything for war but not for peace.  Time will bring new players.  Given the large percentage of people under the age of 25 in this region, there is hope. The status quo will surrender when new teams arrive at an altered playing field. Still, aren’t we all disappointed the time isn’t now?