By Mark Goldblatt on 3.26.02 @ 12:11AM
What Israeli and Palestinian actions over the last two weeks have taught us.
Recently, the media's repetition of the phrase "cycle of
violence" to characterize daily bloodlettings in the Middle East
has been challenged on opinion pages both in America and abroad.
Such criticism is a positive sign, an indication that the language
used to describe the Israeli-Palestinian conflict may soon begin to
conform itself to reality rather than to a pipe dream of political
evenhandedness. Certainly, the moral equivalency implicit in the
expression "cycle of violence" is utterly false.
If Israeli and Palestinian actions over the last two weeks have
taught us nothing else, they've taught us at least this:
If, tomorrow, the Palestinians ceased their suicidal attacks on
Israeli civilians, the following day would undoubtedly bring a halt
to Israeli retaliations -- since retaliations are, by definition,
responses to specific provocations, and since such violence serves
no conceivable Israeli purpose except to deter larger-scale
Palestinian assaults.
If, tomorrow, Israel ceased to retaliate against the
Palestinians, the following day would undoubtedly bring still more
suicidal attacks -- since these are fueled by a deep-rooted
determination to annihilate the Jewish state, and by an animalistic
religiosity which justifies the intentional slaughter of Jewish
civilians as Allah's will.
The "cycle of violence" in the Middle East is not point and
counterpoint. It is not yin and yang. It is crime and punishment.
Which is why precise language matters. How you talk about something
gradually seeps into your perceptions of the reality you're
describing.
If you want to understand the reality on the ground in the
Middle East, listen to Rami Aziz, a 23-year-old Palestinian, who
echoed the sentiments of an entire generation of young Arab men
when he recently objected to his grandfather's wish, spoken to a
New York Times reporter, that Jews and Palestinians could someday
live in peace: "But the Koran doesn't say that," Rami Aziz shouted.
"Even the prophet encouraged killing Jews." Or listen to the
anonymous Arab student who, according to the Times, recently told
an Egyptian official that the entire problem of Israel could be
solved by "eight small, suitcase-size nuclear bombs." Or the
Palestinian teenager, already a member of Hamas, quoted in the
Times Sunday Magazine: "There will be no peace. It's us or them."
Or the 15-year-old Palestinian girl who told Sixty Minutes that she
prayed someday for the opportunity to strap a bomb to herself and
blow up Jews. Or listen to the ecstatic rage of scores or young men
and women at shrines throughout the Palestinian settlements
dedicated to young, demented souls who have "martyred" themselves
in order to massacre Israeli women and children.
Perhaps the lot of it could be written off as the irrational
excesses of misinformed, misguided and impoverished youth. But what
of the older generation? What of the Palestinian mother who told
the Times Magazine last year that her lone regret, after her son
blew himself up in order to kill Israeli civilians, was that she
didn't have a hundred more sons to follow? What, for that matter,
of the hundreds of parents who permit their children to leave home
each morning with slingshots in their back pockets, knowing their
intention is to provoke heavily armed Israeli troops into ugly
photo ops? Forget, for a moment, the politics of the region. Focus
on the scene at the front door: "Did you remember your notebook,
Nasir? What about your lunch? Did you study for your algebra test?
Good, now off you go . . . and give those Jewish sons-of-bitches
hell on your way home."
What, finally, of the Arab intellectuals -- and the temptation
to set the word intellectuals in quotation marks is strong -- who
explain away such behavior as the inevitable by-product of Israeli
oppression? Even if we grant that a grave injustice was perpetrated
upon Palestinians, we still must ask whether people who would
employ children in such a manner thereby forfeit, temporarily at
least, their aspirations for self-government. Gandhi, to be sure,
didn't send out children to lie across railroad tracks in India.
Martin Luther King didn't send out children to face down attack
dogs in the Alabama.
If the moral imperative to protect the young is not universal,
what is? And if it is universal, its willful and ongoing violation
must carry a cost. To put the matter bluntly, it makes no sense to
talk about a sovereign Palestinian state until the Palestinian
people demonstrate a capacity to govern themselves in accordance
with fundamental conceptions of right and wrong. To date, they have
not even demonstrated the capacity to discern right from wrong.
Absent such a demonstration, the Palestinians cannot be
entrusted with the subtleties and ideals of 21st century
nationhood.
And, yes, once language conforms itself to reality, it is that
simple.
topics:
Israel