Israel’s Situation

A while ago, a dear peacemaker friend of mine in Israel got triggered about some comments on one of my posts on Facebook, concerning Israel. It’s been bugging me ever since. His reaction was understandable. I’ve been wondering how to heal it. This new post might or might not help, but it’s a statement of where I stand.

One of the advantages of being a long-distance author is that I’ve often written stuff before – and there is little point writing it all out again. Especially when it’s a delicate subject that can evoke lots of reactions, many of them heading in very different directions. And if I am accused of anti-semitism, all I can say is “Yes, if that’s what you want me to be“. Please form your own judgements.

Below is a chapter from my 2011 book Pictures of Palestine – a humanitarian blogging from Bethlehem. What I wrote then still holds for me now.

Ma’ale Adumim, an Israeli settlement on the West Bank, east of Jerusalem. It splits the Palestinian West Bank into two halves, making the West Bank less viable as a nation.

One of my daughters wrote me an e-mail asking whether the blog I was writing, on which this book is based, would be biased. Well, yes, I was portraying a Palestinian perspective, if that’s what ‘biased’ means. Yet I care about the survival and future of Israel too, and Palestine’s success doesn’t have to mean Israel’s failure. Many people don’t get this.

If you’re not with us, you’re against us’. Crossing that gulf is a difficult aspect of working with both sides – you can get the splitz. The two sides aren’t just arguing about different aspects of the same debate – they’re not even in the same conflict. There aren’t just two sides, and it’s not a straight black-and-white issue – it involves lots of variegated nuances and complexities. To be for one lot doesn’t have to mean you’re against the other lot. The real battle lies between those who encourage polarisation and violence and those on the receiving end of them. Both sides can live together, and they shall. They do live together, even though they are strangely divided.

Palestinians aren’t angels and they’ve made mistakes but the power and the burden of error weighs heavily on the Israeli side. Israel has long had superiority in weapons, money, connections, PR, foreign backers, chutzpah and forcefulness. Israelis don’t see things this way, seeing themselves as endangered victims, thus explaining the hardship, punishment and violence they assert on others in self-defence. This is not unique amongst nations, but for Israel it’s extreme and the effects impact heavily on their victims and on the wider world.

The Israeli project – to provide a safe haven for Jews where they may live by their own norms – is a noble thing. Historically, Jews have suffered immensely, especially from the actions of Europeans. But this doesn’t justify their oppressing or punishing Arabs today or doing to others many of the things that once were done to them. Israelis don’t see themselves as oppressors – they are the oppressed, busy protecting themselves. They don’t see themselves as colonisers but as a people with an entitlement to what they feel is theirs.

Israelis have a lot to be proud of. They built a nation in six decades. From their perspective, Arabs have attacked and menaced them and Israelis have bravely held off such threats. This was the narrative I learned as a teenager in 1967 at the time of the Six Day War, during which the Israelis occupied the Palestinian territories as if by accident, pre-emptively defending themselves. In later life, I discovered that this invasion, like the previous one of 1948, involved severe ethnic cleansing and uprooting of Palestinians, razing and occupying villages and parts of towns and killing of thousands of largely defenceless people. The awful fate visited on Jews by Europeans was visited by Jews on Palestinians.

Only some Jews were perpetrators. Many were accomplices who shut their eyes, went along with things or obeyed orders, to an extent tricked by their leaders. Some protested but didn’t get far; others felt that the ills taking place were regrettable but unavoidable, believing Israel to be in mortal danger when Arab armies, somewhat incompetently, solely sought to protect Palestinians against overwhelming Israeli force.

The Israeli project was driven by a caucus of Zionists who branded Palestinians as barbarians. Zionists drove the occupation in ways which decisively defined Israel’s character and future as a state locked in a military vortex.

It could have been done differently. As they immigrated to Ottoman and then British Palestine in the first half of the 20th Century, Jews could have integrated much more with Palestinians – there would have been difficulties, certainly, though arguably fewer difficulties than actually arose.

The British administration of the 1920s-1940s could have exercised less of a divide-and-rule approach, driving people against one another.

When the UN partitioned Palestine, favouring Jews in the process, the Israelis could have made do with the territory they were allocated, without such rabid ethnic cleansing of the land.

They could have traded land for peace in the 1970s or 1990s.

None of these options would have been perfect, but some sort of peaceful and productive coexistence could have arisen, leading to a sounder long term future for Israelis. But the path Israel has chosen is, I believe, deeply flawed, and the results are coming back to haunt them.

Israeli feelings of existential threat arose from deep-seated and justified feelings of vulnerability following the Jews’ terrible history in Europe. But the threat from Palestinians and other Arabs has been less a conquering aggression, more an ineffective response to Israeli force and expansion. A sense of threat does not have to be the case now, even in these days of Arab revolutions [this was written in 2011]. When Israel upsets its neighbours, causing great loss and damage, or when during negotiations it refuses to budge on issues crucial to Palestinians and neighbouring Arabs, it naturally creates an unhappy response.

Thus, Israel becomes its own worst enemy: while intending to reinforce Israeli security, it generates ill-feeling and threats instead, undermining that security. The ethnic cleansing of 1948 would be consigned to history if such cleansing didn’t continue today. Hezbollah in Lebanon would be no threat if Israel hadn’t invaded and bombarded Lebanon so devastatingly on several occasions in the last 40 years. Hamas and other militias in Gaza would not fire rockets if Israel let up on its siege of Gaza. Action creates a reaction.

Zionism sees Israel’s own interests and expansion as paramount. Whatever means are used toward this end, and whatever costs are incurred or imposed, Israel’s growth must go on. Zionists like to reinforce the belief that the world stands against the Jewish people. The notion that Israelis’ needs and security could be helped by acknowledging the needs and security of others doesn’t enter the equation, except amongst a much-dwindled Israeli peace camp.

In the long term, if anything weakens Israel, it is Zionism, since it undermines the sympathy the world might have toward Jews. Only a proportion of Israelis actively subscribe to Zionist sentiments, though acquiescence to such sentiments increases when Israel feels threatened, and this happens regularly, and Zionism is a norm drummed into Israelis from an early age. Tragically, war has been used as a way of keeping Israelis united.

This strong-minded agenda doesn’t even really accord with Judaism’s core tenets: Judaism is one thing and Zionism another. The laws of Moses’ Ten Commandments – not to kill, not to steal – aren’t being followed, and the nobler, more tolerant aspects of the Jewish faith are sidestepped. It’s considered heretical to say this. The Zionist mentality builds concrete walls and fences around Israelis in self-protection, and in so doing they become separated from the world and increasingly fail to see the wider world’s viewpoint. Zionists accuse critics of anti-Semitism (though Arabs are Semites too) and it labels Jewish detractors as ‘self-hating Jews’.

But here comes a key proposition. If Israelis saw things another way, opening up to the notion that their fellow humans sit in the same boat as they, and if Israel ramped down its military expansionism and permitted some restitution of the ills which have occurred since 1948, then, over time, threats to Israel would subside, and the country and its population would become more safe and secure.

One Jewish extremist I know is so way-out that he’s right off the political map. Menachem Froman is an ‘ultra-orthodox’ (strictly observant) rabbi. [He is now dead.] He regards the state of Israel as scripturally premature and illegitimate, since the arising of such a state is prophesied to follow the coming of the Messiah. To him, the founding of Israel is supposed to make manifest a Holy Israel, a state of divine perfection and peace – what Christians call Heaven on Earth. To Jews the Messiah hasn’t yet come, and in Froman’s view Israel is thus manifestly unholy, both theologically and in everyday life. He’s the rabbi of an illegal West Bank settlement south-east of Bethlehem, and he’s also a member of Jerusalem Peacemakers [an organisation I was involved with founding].

But, get this. He hobnobs with sheikhs, imams, bishops, Tibetan lamas, Native Americans and oddbods like me. He also makes friends with ‘the enemy’. When Yasser Arafat was holed up under bombardment by the Israelis in Ramallah in 2002, during the second intifada, Froman walked through the lines, using his rabbinical authority to confound the Israeli troops seeking to stop him, and he visited Arafat repeatedly, becoming a close personal friend. Later, he walked into Gaza to make friends with Ismael Haniyeh, the Hamas prime minister. Israeli troops can’t quite shoot a rabbi if he breaks the rules since rabbis are by definition ordained by Jewish tradition to define the rules.

Palestinians like him: he’s the kind of Jew they can talk with. He considers Jews no more nor less special than anyone else. He doesn’t mind living under an Israeli or a Palestinian administration as long as he can live in Eretz Yisrael, the holy realm of Israel, where he was born. His own proposed peace settlement states simply that if Arabs can live in Israel (which they do) then Jews can live in Palestine, so let’s just divide it up and get on with life, or live equally under one single government and shared land. But Froman, a memorable, charismatic character, does not represent mainstream Israel.

Most Palestinians and Arabs don’t want to fight. The idea that they want to destroy Israel is nowadays a myth, or voiced by Arabs only when tempers are hot. [This was the situation in 2011 and it will eventually return.] Arab extremists say they want to eliminate Israel and, equally, Israeli extremists want all Palestinians to be driven out of the land, but neither kind of extremist represents a majority, and such exclusion would charge a heavy price to the victorious who are left behind. Germany, for example, has paid heavily in compensation and guilt for its exclusion of Jews 60-80 years ago.

Most Palestinians and Arabs accept the existence of an Israel within the pre-1967 borders – an enormous concession that they signed up to in the 1993 Oslo Accords. Even Hamas, which Israelis perceive as the arch-enemy, has stated that it will recognise Israel within such boundaries. Palestinians just want a fair deal and a decent life. Peace will never be a perfect deal for everyone, but it will be better than the current situation.

Israel cannot afford to remain militarised forever: it has poor people and social problems of its own, enormous water-shortages, a risk of coastal flooding, toxicity, pollution and all the kinds of problems that pervade most modern countries. It also shares the West’s dwindling prestige and power. And it is isolated.

Even if Israel won every war it undertakes, this doesn’t make for a happy, healthy nation. Israel needs to make friends with its neighbours because it needs them, and they need Israel. Israelis can’t drive to Damascus, Beirut or Amman for the weekend – they are hemmed into their own country. Arabs can’t visit Tel Aviv for business or shopping or easily visit Jerusalem to pray in its holy places. It’s crazy. They all have a lot to offer each other. They share Middle Eastern space.

Looking down on Tel Aviv and the Mediterranean from up in the Palestinian West Bank, near Bir Zeit. Most West Bank Palestinians are not permitted to go there – they can see the Med but never bathe in it.

Israelis need a safe and peaceful future. Many are not fully aware of what’s going on in their name, or they shruggingly accept the ‘security reasons’ they are given when their army tramples on Palestinians. Many feel powerless, or they maintain an indifference by ‘living inside the bubble’. Others adopt extreme, partisan views, as if everyone is against them and deserves a strident response. Since the late 1990s, the centre of gravity of Israeli politics has headed toward the hard right, and a harsh minority nowadays dominates the public dialogue. Zionist minority interests place their priorities above those of the nation. The rule of dominant interests, while not unique to Israel, maintains a perpetual state of near-conflict.

I support a neighbourly Israel and its gradual integration into the Middle East. But I have difficulty going along with the way this nation behaves today. I know plenty of remarkable Israelis whose humanity and conduct of character are impressive, but these people’s voices do not prevail.

Sadly, Israel acts against its own longterm best interests and could come to regret many aspects of the last sixty years. It soils its nest by pushing its case uncompromisingly, thus creating enemies and the opposite longterm effects to what it genuinely seeks. Its reliance on force, bombing, assassinations, land-grabs, ill-treatment and dehumanisation of Arabs builds up new, avoidable problems, fostering new generations of opponents. We need a new habit of peaceful coexistence. This will take a generation and more, but it is important.

Israel’s great danger is the risk of truth breaking out amongst its own Jewish inhabitants, causing the Zionist world-view to be deconstructed. Disillusionment and uncertainty could one day cause many Israelis to decide that other countries offer greater peace and security. There’s even a risk of fighting breaking out between dissonant Israeli communities, or between ‘Israel proper’ (Israel) and ‘Israel of the settlements’ (Judaea).

Palestinians don’t have to fight Israelis – they just need to stand firm. Gradually, they will simply out-populate Israelis, and changing wider-world circumstances will redefine the situation in Palestine and Israel. Palestinians want dialogue and a fair deal. They’re remarkably patient but they still need a sense of progress. So do many Israelis, living in a small, walled-in country with an army that’s slowly losing its mojo and a government dominated by minority interests.

The Holy Land is a multi-ethnic, multifaith land and a fascinating place. Sanctity is elusive and faiths define it differently, but it’s safe to say that ongoing conflict is not one of its characteristics. Positive change matters for the whole world – Israel and Palestine form a bottleneck in the world’s process of change.

Security is developed by building up a nation’s internal feelings of alrightness, community and integrity. It is built by cultivating collective happiness and creativity, giving people a sense of a positive, mutually-beneficial future. This is the real national interest, the true guarantee of Israel’s future.


That was an excerpt from Pictures of Palestine. Its website is here. This book can be ordered online in print.
The sequel, Blogging in Bethlehem, is available as an audiobook, here. The other sequel, O Little Town of Bethlehem – Christmas in God’s Holy Land, is available in PDF text format, onscreen, here.

This was the view from my apartment in Al Khader, Bethlehem. Over the valley was an Israeli watchtower. They had their binoculars and listening devices, but I had psychic antennae. I knew what they were up to. Most of them were bored shitless. But I wasn’t.

Agonos

A natural or a placed rock? This one is probably natural. Zennor Hill, West Penwith.

I’m only as good as I am in my worst moments. This is what I have learned, or perhaps re-learned, recently. I’ve been going through a lot of physical pain, and pain has a way of reducing and diminishing me, bringing me down into a state of unclarity bordering on despair, so that my best efforts at staying conscious get to be a struggle.

This is affecting my writing. Already, peripheral neuropathy in my fingers has made typing difficult, and my fingers miss the buttons, and there is so much correction and re-editing to do that I lose track of what I’m trying to write.

Unfortunately, using speech-recognition software isn’t as simple as many people believe when they recommend it, and it doesn’t work well with me. That said, about one third of this blog was first-drafted this way, then re-edited.

It’s the pain that is really doing it. Pain demands complete attention – it is merciless, scooping up consciousness and attention and blurring my inner focus. It’s my left foot only, but the pain level is so high that it can keep me awake all night or, in the day, at times bring up tears of helplessness. I’ve also been weakened by tiredness – finding myself wondering whether it is day or night, what time it is, and what’s happening.

So I will not be writing as much as I have done in the past. Which I regret, because writing has been a major part of my life – I’ve spent mega-thousands of hours doing it. But that’s the way things are now and I must accept it. The pain I am currently dealing with soaks up so much of my attention and energy, and that’s that.

This brings up something of a fear. It is the fear that, if I say nothing and go quiet, I’ll be forgotten. It’s probably an early-life psychological issue or a past-life memory, or both. I can be forgotten for perfectly good reasons – people are busy, and so many things shout for our attention, and people assume that, if I’m quiet, I must be okay, or that perhaps they should not disturb me. Or relationships become digitalised and weakened, with a constant stream of how-are-yous with little or no face-to-face contact. But I do have people close to me who keep their eyes on me and I much appreciate their involvement in my life.

This is about neurological pain. It’s to do with the interaction of our neurological system (the information system), which is plugged into our body, and our conscious mind, which isn’t directly so. It has a lot to do with what we give attention to. However, it is easy to say this, but when in deep pain it’s difficult to summon enough focused attention to change the pain from the inside.

Pain has a way of forcing us to pay attention to it whether or not we wish to. It sucks up all clarity, positivity and perspective. It’s important not to panic and to avoid getting too caught up in it, though this in itself can be difficult when the pain gets mixed up with nightmares and dream-stuff in the quiet loneliness of the deep night.

Holding my focus has become more of an issue. I wrote a blog last week and ground to a halt with it. This is what I wrote…

Weird pillow granite on Carn Galva

I don’t know whether Agonos is a proper Greek word but, in the middle of the night a few nights ago, it gyrated around in my mind, aptly describing the state I was in. Things have been tough, and daily life is hard work. I’m doing quite well regarding the blood cancer, Multiple Myeloma, that I’ve had for seven years now – it is held at bay with cancer drugs. It’s the side-issues that cause the agony – especially peripheral neuropathy – and I have also acquired a secondary skin cancer, a carcinoma. Doctors’ visits, tests, pills and interventions are increasing.

I feel like I’m in my Nineties, shuffling around like an old crock. Things have been changing in recent months, and life and my medical condition have been getting more complex, as have relationships with the various different doctors I’m under. It’s a long uphill grind. The pain in my feet dredges and wrings me out. I have some fundamental life-questions to sort out too, the main one being this: is all this toil and trouble actually worth it?

Peripheral neuropathy is a side-effect of cancer drugs I’ve taken since 2019, which have killed off the nerve endings in my feet and fingertips. Initially it leads to an ungrounded loss of feeling – I learned to live with that though, since the cancer drugs have kept me alive and I’m glad about that. But recently it has developed into two kinds of acute pain: one is a feeling of burning in the feet and the other is a bony pain, like the excruciating pain you get when you stub your toe. Except it doesn’t go away.

These happen when I am sleeping, relaxing and not moving. With a vengeance. When I move around the pain usually subsides. But I cannot move around at all times of the day and night – I need to rest and sleep too! The sensors and signals in my neurological system have gone haywire, sending the wrong signals to the brain, which registers pain and exaggerates it, sending the wrong signals back. This is rather ironic, for one who has spent so long on computers! It becomes a psychological loop that is difficult to break out of, even with painkillers.

I was given a drug (Amitriptylene) to deal with the peripheral neuropathy, and it helped partially, but it had a big psychological effect. It drained my willpower, making small tasks seem big, and making me ask depressive questions like ‘What’s the point?’ and give up. In the blurb for the drug they do say ‘risk of sui*cidal thoughts’. I’m not desperate, lost or unstable enough to be thinking of that, but I can see how such thoughts can develop with that drug. So I’ve been switched to another drug (Nortriptylene) and I cannot yet tell whether it is helping or when it will start working (it takes 4-6 weeks, apparently). The question drags on.

I’m unhappy about the number of drugs I’m prescribed and the number of doctors who are tinkering with me – none of them know me and they tend to look at the computer more than at me. Tests and scans are amazing, but sometimes a look in my eyes or a feel of my feet would do better – cheaper and faster too. The doctors and nurses are all good people, doing their best, but they work in a medical system that is not really designed for humans – for the whole human.

There’s a good chance this is a human-placed or adjusted rock. Simply to enhance nature.

So that was what I wrote and didn’t finish. It’s the same with this one, where I need to report to friends and relations what is happening, so that you know, and I’m not sure how to finish it.

I’m making some sort of progress though, giving the pain less attention, taking more of an uncomplaining and accepting attitude – when I can – and receiving some insights into my father, mother and ancestors, and into the way of things.

My left foot hurts a lot right now. I wish this would end. I guess there must be a good reason why it doesn’t. I haven’t found it though.

Eitherwhichway, I wanted to give you a read-out on where things stand for me. I’ll probably be saying less and recycling more in the way of old material from now on (but it’s good stuff). But I have a new digital helper here in Cornwall, Lucy, who, all things being well, will handle my online affairs when I lose the ability to do so – we’re running in and working through details and questions, as time goes on.

Thanks to all of you who have been following my blogs, pods and other outpourings. After getting cancer it gave my life new meaning, and the creativity of it has itself had deep healing effects. Were that not so, I think I might well have died in winter 2022. I am so glad that good souls out there like you have been enjoying and benefiting from them, and so grateful to have touched the lives of so many people – as you have touched mine.

These are at Sperris Quoit, forming part of a kind of rock temple close to the quoit. I think these are placed rocks.

In life’s final chapter, as daily life gets more difficult, the multi-level, even multidimensional costs and benefits of staying alive can shift, and the costs can get to outweigh the benefits. Just getting up out of a chair or clipping toenails can be quite an operation! Sometimes cooking food wears me out so much that I can’t eat it (but often I cook for 2-3 days each time, so it’s not disastrous).

I’m active and functional for about six hours each day, usually doing catch-up things – phone calls, messaging, clearing up and self-care – and then I wear myself out even more! “Palden, why won’t you reply to me? Have I done something wrong?”. No. I can’t keep up, that’s all, and I lose track, and I can’t spend all day at my computer.

That’s the way things are. I’ve written here about problems and hard stuff, yet I’m still grateful for the experience. That might sound a bit schizoid but, for better or worse, throughout my life I’ve always tried to make the best out of apparently bad situations, and it doesn’t stop now – and they aren’t necessarily bad either, if handled well and turned around. I’m minded to dredge up a quote I quoted several times a few years ago in my blogs:

It’s okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.

I was given that jewel of wisdom by a Berliner, while standing amidst the geological drama of the Sinai Desert in Egypt in 2012. We were like ships passing in the night, briefly meeting as soul-friends in the middle of the void. I wish I could remember his name.

Love, Palden

https://www.palden.co.uk

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The pics are from Zennor Hill and Sperris Croft in West Penwith, Cornwall. Some of these rocks are natural (it’s weird granitic geology round there) and some are placed or moved – back in the Neolithic, around 5,700 years ago. The question is, which are which? With some it is clear and with others it is a matter of debate.

Most people think this is natural, but I think there’s a good chance this was placed, or adjusted.