Endgame

Looking through the latest news reports from Israel this morning, I am reminded of a few lines from Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot that seem especially poignant. In the opening scene of Beckett’s most famous play the two protagonists, Vladimir and Estragon, appear lost, mercurial and wholly unaware of their purpose or the fate that awaits them. In a fit of confusion, they angrily begin to question each other on their predicament - attempting in vain to validate their choice of time and place.

ESTRAGON: You’re sure it was this evening?

VLADIMIR: What?

ESTRAGON: That we were to wait.

VLADIMIR: He said Saturday. (Pause.) I think.

ESTRAGON:  You think.

VLADIMIR: I must have made a note of it. (He fumbles in his pockets, bursting with miscellaneous rubbish.)

ESTRAGON: (very insidious). But what Saturday? And is it Saturday? Is it not rather Sunday? (Pause.) Or Monday?   (Pause.) Or Friday?

VLADIMIR:  (looking wildly about him, as though the date was inscribed in the landscape). It’s not possible!

Like Vladimir and Estragon, we also wait for the results of an election that most believed was concluded over 10 days ago. And like the two doomed characters of Beckett’s drama, many of us have attempted to rationalize and validate our expectations.

On Friday, with Tzipi Livni effectively ending any possibility of a (somewhat) centre-right government in Israel by refusing to join a Likud-led coalition, the endgame was decided - with Netanyahu almost certainly set to become the next Prime Minister with Avigdor Lieberman close by his side. Livni has described the likely partnership as an ‘extremist right-wing government’ - one she refuses to collaborate with choosing instead to lead an opposition party to help balance the dangerously conservative coalition set to take the reigns as early as this Sunday.

Interstingly, Livni’s party, Kadima, having been formed by Ariel Sharon himself - a man whose policies most Western political observers would recognize as far-right, militarily aggressive, and religiously motivated - has been characterized by the media over the last few weeks as ‘centrist’, a label that that can only be applied when compared to Netanyahu’s Likud, or Lieberman’s Israel Beiteinu. Indeed, in attempting to discern the levels of ‘conservative’ between the parties in these last elections, the media has been forced to include titles such as ‘ultra’, ‘far right’, and ‘extreme right’ to describe the coalition that is set to govern in a week’s time. Thankfully, we have not yet been subjected to terms such as ’super duper conservative’, or ‘mega mega conservative’ - but of course only time will tell.

Leaving aside the range of what we in the West would consider ‘right wing’, and focusing instead on the inevitable combination of the three hardline parties of Israel likely to form the government - Likud, Shas, and Israel Beiteinu - it is important to recognize that the only common ground these groups occupy is perhaps the media’s defined nomenclature of ‘more conservative’ than Kadima.

As a minor example of the contrasting sentiments of the new coalition’s leaders, Rabbi Ovadia Yosef - the spiritual leader of the ‘mega’ religious right-wing Shas party - recently called Avigdor Lieberman “the devil”. Netanyahu himself has been loathe to award any power to his long-time rivals - and as publicly stated over the past month, everyone involved in this ‘conservative coalition’ thinks the other is either too conservative, dangerously imbalanced, or not nearly conservative enough.

None of this bodes particularly well for populations living on either side of the Green Line - or more widely, throughout the entire region.

Perhaps in the end, the rest of us watching from afar are not like Vladimir and Estragon after all. Perhaps the metaphor of a quarreling, confused collection of absurdist characters should be applied elsewhere.

A Box Of Chocolates

It is a pity Forrest Gump was never asked to elaborate on his views of Israeli politics. Had Robert Zemeckis added that dimension to his 1994 pseudo-epic, we might have been treated to yet another analogy featuring the now famous ‘box of chocolates’.

Indeed when it comes to Israeli politics and its subsequent elections - one never knows what one will get.

Following the apparent victory of Tzipi Livni’s Kadima party on Tuesday, most of the world awoke on Wednesday to the prospect of a Kadima-led coalition with Livni as the new Prime Minister. That’s how normal Democratic elections work, right.

Wrong.

As anyone following the situation this week can attest, navigating the maze of the Israeli election process is not unlike the Democratic Party Nomination cycle in the United States - a system rife with complications.

So here goes.

In order for an Israeli political party to win an outright victory to govern alone, they are required to capture over 50% of the total seats in the Israeli Parliament. As the Parliament (or Knesset) has a total of 120 representatives, it is therefore necessary for said political party to acquire a minimum of 61 seats.

So far so good.

In the case of the past week, both Kadima and Likud (the two leading parties in this election) fell well short of the required 61 seats to allow either a clear and autonomous victory. Early predictions put the total seats won by Kadima at 28, and Likud at 27. The ultra-right wing Yisrael Beitenu Party led by Avigdor Lieberman came in third, capturing  roughly 15 seats.

This is where it gets fuzzy.

In order for any party to form a government, its leader (i.e. Livni or Netanyahu) must demonstrate an ability to cobble together 61+ seats in the Knesset primarily through allying with rival parties in the formation of a ‘ruling coalition’.

So who has the best chance of making this happen?

As the fall of the Labour Party, and subsequent rise of far-right parties such as Shas and Yisrael Beitenu demonstrate, the Israeli political system is moving clearly to the right. With the large number of total seats in the hands of far-right parties (including Likud), it is very possible Benyamin Netanyahu will be viewed as the most likely candidate to form a majority coalition government.

Next week, President Shimon Peres will consult all 12 parties in the new parliament, and based on their feedback and party preferences, will choose Netanyahu or Livni to try to form a government. Incidently, the Israeli President is elected every 7 years, and while wearing an illustrious title, is more of a figure-head rather than a ruling Head of State.

So the election is not really a decisive election. And a winner is not really a winner. Well, not yet at least.

Perhaps it is simply best to avoid all this for now. Or as Mr. Gump would do, “Run Forrest, run…!”

Why Gaza Matters

With the death toll steadily rising in Gaza, the number of Israeli strikes shows no sign of slowing. In fact, earlier today, Israel rejected International calls for a 48-hour ‘humanitarian ceasefire’ saying such a prospect was ‘unrealistic’. Capturing the ‘lead story’ in most international media broadcasts (BBC, CNN, Fox News, Al Jazeera) since the crisis began on Saturday, during the past 24 hours we have seen that prized media position slip to second or third billing - in one case trailing such important news flashes as the fate of a rowdy England footballer or the rundown of the top ten music albums of 2008.

Perhaps for that reason, Gaza matters a little more.

Rather than wade into the readily available raft of facts and figures on the number of bombs dropped, casualties predicted, or estimated shortages in medicines and supplies (the mainstay of traditional reporting), it is critical to recognize just ‘why’ the situation in Gaza is important. As the media tires of what is sure to be a long and protracted story with fewer truly ‘unique’ angles, let us drop the trivial rhetoric of who fired what object at whom first, who refuses to recognize the other’s rights, or even who is morally correct in their belligerence.

“What difference does it make to the dead, the orphans and the homeless, whether the mad destruction is wrought under the name of totalitarianism or the holy name of liberty or democracy?”  - Mahatma Gandhi

The situation in Gaza matters not for what it empirically describes - conflict, devastation, passion and outrage - but functions as a microcosm of the most basic of human dramas enacted daily by nations, movements, groups and even individuals: the desire for freedom, control, and self-determination.

In the ongoing struggle to realize this human right - a situation wholly taken for granted by most of us in the West - the Palestinian people of Gaza have appealed repeatedly to the international community, their leaders, and eventually to hardline movements to embody and carry on this struggle. Regardless of the paths, the betrayals, and the ongoing disappointment, the 1.5 million Gazans living in the largest ‘open air’ prison in the world have chosen to endure; they have made the ‘choice’ to survive. Perhaps for that reason, Gaza matters a little more.

Viktor Frankl, an Austrian psychiatrist, Holocaust survivor and founder of Logotherapy discovered freedom existed even in the darkest corners of the concentration and extermination camps of Nazi Germany during the Second World War. As he wrote in his defining work, Man’s Search for Meaning:

“Everything can be taken from a man or a woman but one thing: the last of human freedoms to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”

For Frankl, the existential choice of freedom lies beyond prisons, boundaries, and even the limits of the human body. In his eyes, this ‘ability to choose one’s attitude’ no matter how limited the choice appears, is the true path to freedom. Through it all, we in the West who regard ourselves as ‘free’ perhaps have a great deal to learn from the Palestinians - who at this moment are suffering and fighting and dying and surviving.

“The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.”  - Albert Camus

Perhaps for that reason, Gaza matters a little more.

Huwwara Checkpoint, Nablus

During last week’s travels through the West Bank, one of the most enduring images that has remained was the situation at the Huwwara Checkpoint south of Nablus on the eve of Yom Kippur.

Notorious for its extensive harrassment of Palestinians attempting to travel to and from Nablus (including students simply commuting to school), the Checkpoint has regularly been the scene of violent clashes between the IDF, resistance fighters (including the Al Aqsa Martyr’s Brigade), and peaceful residents trying simply to gain access to see family or loved ones living on either side of the border.

The queues lack any sense of order, designed simply to harass and dehumanize the Palestinians who in many cases can wait up to 10 hours to cross the checkpoint. Students are forced to do this daily (!) and many never reach their classes for days on end.

As the sun began to set last Wednesday evening, we became increasingly concerned our group would suffer the same fate as the hundreds of Palestinians herded in and around the security fence. Although fearful, I marveled at the calm - the dignity -  that remained within a people who are forced to endure this treatment every day of their lives. At the last moment, given our International passports, we were whisked away and across the checkpoint - the feeling of guilt and privilege remaining with me even today.

The friction at the checkpoint last Wednesday was palpable. It is not therefore surprising to read today of two reports of Israeli violence at the Huwwara Checkpoint - both within the last 48 hours. According to the International Middle East Centre, a 20-year old Palestinian boy was shot on Tuesday evening at Huwwara simply for approaching the soldiers in frustration at his daily commute and ongoing harassment by the IDF. According to the site:

Adham Shihadeh, 20, began walking through the crossing, and did not stop when Israeli soldiers shouted at him. The soldiers then began firing live rounds at the young man, injuring him in the foot.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t stop there. Last night (Wednesday evening) the IMEU reported that a 16-year old boy was beaten and detained by the IDF, again, for being ’suspected’ of carrying a knife (in other words - for no apparent reason).

This has not been an exceptional week. This is every week.

And as we must always point out, this situation continues in flagrant violation of International Law (UN Resolution 242).

This is Huwwara. This is life in Nablus. This is Palestine.

Poetry of Palestine

Taking a break from the ongoing politics and drama of the occupation, we’re going to shift gears and focus a bit on Palestinian literature and the arts - an often overlooked aspect of a region and a people. Reflecting on the media portrayal of Palestinians, the usual image proferred is of a demeaned, angry, aggressive society. The extremes of this caricature is of course the suicide bomber - but the more subtle renderings depict a classless, lawless, cultureless population.

In an effort to re-paint this distorted image of Palestinian culture fueled by the media, over coming weeks bruised earth will profile intellectuals, artists, writers and communities that challenge the popular notions prevalent in the West.

The famous Zionist edict of “a land without a people for a people without a land” is being recycled day after day with the ongoing denial of Palestinian culture and the arts. After all, denying a people’s culture is the first step in dehumanizing and dispossessing a population. Occupation is far more than barriers and fences and walls.

With that, today’s bruised earth profile focuses on the Palestinian poet, Mahmoud Darwish. Born in British Mandate Palestine in 1941, Darwish is perhaps the most celebrated Palestinian poet alive today - with over 30 volumes of poetry and 9 works of prose to his oeuvre. A one-time member of the PLO Executive Committee, Darwish resides in Ramallah (a town fluent with the modern Palestinian arts scene) and has lived in Beirut (during the Israelis invasion of 1982) and Cairo.

A voice of modern Palestine and one of the greatest Arab poets of the century, Darwish’s voice is urgent, engaging, and razor-sharp - having been best described by the poet Fiona Sampson as:

This most public of Palestinians is the master not of reductive polemic but of a profoundly lyric imagination, one that draws together the textures of daily life, physical beauty - whether of landscape or of women - longing, myth and history.

A few excerpts of his poetry can be found here. And to help get a sense for his range and his structure, a few special clips are reproduced below:

Whenever I search for myself I find the others
And when I search for them
I only find my alien self
So am I the individual- crowd?

-from Mural

Stripped of my name and identity?
On soil I nourished with my own hands?
Today Job cried out
Filling the sky:
Don’t make and example of me again!
Oh, gentlemen, Prophets,
Don’t ask the trees for their names
Don’t ask the valleys who their mother is
From my forehead bursts the sward of light
And from my hand springs the water of the river
All the hearts of the people are my identity
So take away my passport!

- from Passport