Solomon2
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In Israel's wars the Arabs lost the battles but the Gulf Arab rulers gained great wealth through oil. They spent a lot of that money on themselves, a little supporting their own populace, a lot buying up Western assets, and some they spread abroad: forbidden by Western laws to purchase high-tech and defense firms directly, they initiated propaganda and aid projects to spread their views with the aim of recruiting allies to reverse their multiple defeats. Nowhere has this initiative weighed more heavily than upon Pakistan, whose rulers early on accepted the Arabs' money and "narrative" in the press and schools.
So to some extent Pakistani minds may have become like Arab ones. Here is one Israeli author's analysis of the Arab situation:
Wednesday, October 5, 2005
A letter to his Palestinian neighbors
YOSSI KLEIN HALEVI
GUEST COLUMNIST
Once, before what you call the Second Intifada and we Israelis call the Terror War, a time that seems now to belong to another millennium, I undertook a one-man pilgrimage into your mosques and churches, seeking to know you in your intimate spiritual moments.
I went as a believing Jew, praying and meditating with you wherever you allowed me to enter into your devotional life. My intention was to transcend, however briefly, the political abyss between us by experiencing together something of the presence of God.
During my journey, which took me from Galilee to Gaza, I saw the fearless heart of Islam, its choreography of surrender, in which one becomes a particle in a great wave of devotion, a wave that preceded our arrival on this Earth and that will continue long after we are gone.
I learned that acceptance of mortality can be the basis for a religious language of reconciliation. Repeatedly, Palestinians would say to me, "Why are we arguing over who owns the land when in the end the land will own us both?"
But I learned too, during numerous candid conversations with Palestinians at all levels of society, that, in practice, few within your nation are willing to concede that I have a legitimate claim to any part of this land.
I learned in my journeys into your society that moderation means one thing on the Israeli side and quite another on the Palestinian side. An Israeli moderate recognizes the Palestinian-Israeli conflict as a struggle between two legitimate national narratives. A Palestinian moderate, by contrast, tends to disagree with the extremists about method, not goal: He advocates the disappearance of Israel through more gradualist means, like demographic subversion. He sees a two-state solution as an interim agreement, a step toward a one-state solution, which, of course, is nothing more than a thinly veiled code for the end of a Jewish state and the creation of a Greater Palestine.
My journey into the faiths of my neighbors was part of a much broader attempt among Israelis, begun during the First Intifada, to understand your narrative, how the conflict looks through your eyes. Your society, on the other hand, has made virtually no effort to understand our narrative.
Instead, you have developed a "culture of denial" that denies the most basic truths of the Jewish story. According to this culture of denial, which is widespread not only among your people but throughout the Arab world, there was no Jewish Temple in Jerusalem, no ancient Jewish presence in the land, no Holocaust.
The real problem, then, is not terrorism, which is only a symptom for a deeper affront: your assault on my history and identity, your refusal to allow me to define myself, which is a form of intellectual terror.
I believe that the onus for ending this conflict has now shifted to your side. Many Israelis have made the conceptual breakthrough necessary for peace between us; but we will remain entrenched behind our security fence until we sense a shift in attitudes on your side. The fence represents the antithesis of my hope for an Israel integrated in the Middle East, but I must accept reality and protect myself from your refusal to accept my legitimacy.
I wrote above that your people has made "virtually no effort" to understand who we Jews are.
One remarkable exception was a pilgrimage of Palestinian Israelis to Auschwitz two years ago. For Palestinian citizens of Israel to reach out to Jews at the height of the intifada was the deepest expression of the generosity of Arab culture. I was privileged to be among the Jewish participants in that Arab initiative. We stood at the crematorium, Arabs and Jews holding each other in silence, facing the abyss together. At that moment, anything seemed possible between us.
Lately, perhaps because of the terror lull, I have been thinking again about that journey, and about the journey I took into your devotional life.
I have even allowed myself to miss the intimacy and uplift I felt in your mosques, the conversations about faith and meaning and destiny over endless cups of coffee and tea, the sense of leisurely time expanding into God's time.
I approached you then without apology for my presence here or dismissal of your presence. And that is how I dream of being with you again: as fellow indigenous sons of this land, which one day will claim us both.
Yossi Klein Halevi is a senior fellow at the Shalem Center and the Israel correspondent of The New Republic. He is also author of "At the Entrance to the Garden of Eden: A Jew's Search for God with Christians and Muslims in the Holy Land."
So to some extent Pakistani minds may have become like Arab ones. Here is one Israeli author's analysis of the Arab situation:
Wednesday, October 5, 2005
A letter to his Palestinian neighbors
YOSSI KLEIN HALEVI
GUEST COLUMNIST
Once, before what you call the Second Intifada and we Israelis call the Terror War, a time that seems now to belong to another millennium, I undertook a one-man pilgrimage into your mosques and churches, seeking to know you in your intimate spiritual moments.
I went as a believing Jew, praying and meditating with you wherever you allowed me to enter into your devotional life. My intention was to transcend, however briefly, the political abyss between us by experiencing together something of the presence of God.
During my journey, which took me from Galilee to Gaza, I saw the fearless heart of Islam, its choreography of surrender, in which one becomes a particle in a great wave of devotion, a wave that preceded our arrival on this Earth and that will continue long after we are gone.
I learned that acceptance of mortality can be the basis for a religious language of reconciliation. Repeatedly, Palestinians would say to me, "Why are we arguing over who owns the land when in the end the land will own us both?"
But I learned too, during numerous candid conversations with Palestinians at all levels of society, that, in practice, few within your nation are willing to concede that I have a legitimate claim to any part of this land.
I learned in my journeys into your society that moderation means one thing on the Israeli side and quite another on the Palestinian side. An Israeli moderate recognizes the Palestinian-Israeli conflict as a struggle between two legitimate national narratives. A Palestinian moderate, by contrast, tends to disagree with the extremists about method, not goal: He advocates the disappearance of Israel through more gradualist means, like demographic subversion. He sees a two-state solution as an interim agreement, a step toward a one-state solution, which, of course, is nothing more than a thinly veiled code for the end of a Jewish state and the creation of a Greater Palestine.
My journey into the faiths of my neighbors was part of a much broader attempt among Israelis, begun during the First Intifada, to understand your narrative, how the conflict looks through your eyes. Your society, on the other hand, has made virtually no effort to understand our narrative.
Instead, you have developed a "culture of denial" that denies the most basic truths of the Jewish story. According to this culture of denial, which is widespread not only among your people but throughout the Arab world, there was no Jewish Temple in Jerusalem, no ancient Jewish presence in the land, no Holocaust.
The real problem, then, is not terrorism, which is only a symptom for a deeper affront: your assault on my history and identity, your refusal to allow me to define myself, which is a form of intellectual terror.
I believe that the onus for ending this conflict has now shifted to your side. Many Israelis have made the conceptual breakthrough necessary for peace between us; but we will remain entrenched behind our security fence until we sense a shift in attitudes on your side. The fence represents the antithesis of my hope for an Israel integrated in the Middle East, but I must accept reality and protect myself from your refusal to accept my legitimacy.
I wrote above that your people has made "virtually no effort" to understand who we Jews are.
One remarkable exception was a pilgrimage of Palestinian Israelis to Auschwitz two years ago. For Palestinian citizens of Israel to reach out to Jews at the height of the intifada was the deepest expression of the generosity of Arab culture. I was privileged to be among the Jewish participants in that Arab initiative. We stood at the crematorium, Arabs and Jews holding each other in silence, facing the abyss together. At that moment, anything seemed possible between us.
Lately, perhaps because of the terror lull, I have been thinking again about that journey, and about the journey I took into your devotional life.
I have even allowed myself to miss the intimacy and uplift I felt in your mosques, the conversations about faith and meaning and destiny over endless cups of coffee and tea, the sense of leisurely time expanding into God's time.
I approached you then without apology for my presence here or dismissal of your presence. And that is how I dream of being with you again: as fellow indigenous sons of this land, which one day will claim us both.
Yossi Klein Halevi is a senior fellow at the Shalem Center and the Israel correspondent of The New Republic. He is also author of "At the Entrance to the Garden of Eden: A Jew's Search for God with Christians and Muslims in the Holy Land."