Peace Talks Fatigue
One of the most interesting things about the new round of peace talks now underway between Israeli and Palestinian authorities is how little this event manages to register on the emotional valence scale.
On its face, the fairly resounding yawn with which the renewal of talks has been received is puzzling. After all, the war between Palestinians and Israelis is a perennial international attention grabber. Moreover, peace has ostensibly been the dream of citizens and the desire of their governments on both sides of the table for a long time.
For both Israelis and Palestinians, much of the quality of daily existence now—and the nature, or even odds, of future existence—hinges on whether there’s war or peace between the sides. For the lives of individuals, the character and destiny of the nations involved, and even the shape of regional and world politics, this is a huge deal.
And yet nobody seems to really be talking about the peace talks. No one is excited. No one is celebrating. No one is happy.
One obvious explanation is that people hold their enthusiasm and hopes in check given past experience. After all, Israelis and Palestinians have been at it for years. The basic parameters of a workable agreement have been known for decades, and yet little progress has been made. Therefore, it is understandable why nobody is eager to don the party hat upon hearing of the promise of peace. On top of that general skepticism, particular doubts remain about the current leaders on both sides, and their ability to deliver for their people.
Another explanation is that vast populations in Israel and the Palestinian community no longer want peace. They want war. The strength of the broader Palestinian camp’s commitment to peace has always been rightfully questioned. No ‘Peace Now’ movement has ever emerged in the occupied territories. And while the choice by Gaza Palestinians to pick Hamas to rule them surely denotes a complexity of motives and desires, an inclination toward peace and reconciliation cannot easily be inferred as one of them. The echoes of a historical Jihadist ethos have not been banished from Palestinian life.
On the Israeli side, the situation is a bit difference. Israel has forever seen, presented, and from time to time conducted itself as a peace-seeking nation. Various peace movements have always dotted the landscape of Israeli culture and politics. Israeli children, like me, were fed the dream and hope and promise of peace from childhood. But Israel is changing. The hegemonic old school Zionist ethos, with its largely secular, democratic, and dovish sensibilities, is on the decline. Ascendant forces in Israeli demographics, politics and culture are largely autocratic, messianic, hawkish, and militaristic.
Large and powerful segments of Israeli culture no longer wish for peace with the Palestinians, but for their removal or annihilation— either by military force or by divine intervention. In this sense, Bibi and Barak—for all their haughtiness, ineptitude, duplicity, and brutality—represent perhaps the last of a dying breed, having kept a commitment, however sloppy, to the idea of the usefulness of peace and a foot, or at least a toe, in the world of reason and of secular, democratic values. Their likely successors—the Liebermans and Eli Yishays and their ilk—are a much more frightening bunch, untethered as they are to the principles of secularism, democracy and enlightenment that were so alive within early Zionism.
The ascendant forces within Israeli culture are not merely skeptical about the actual possibility of peace, but opposed to even the ideal of it.
Another likely reason for the lukewarm reception of these peace talks may reside far away from the disputed land itself, in Iran. It is not a rare occurrence in history that a pressing problem outlasts its own prominence; that by the time a movie gets to the climax, the audience has already lost their interest in movies altogether. This descent into irrelevancy can happen suddenly, even after many years at the top.
The Israeli-Palestinian conflict may be experiencing such a moment. By now, the question of the Iranian bomb has become de facto the deciding issue in the Middle East. In light of the looming nuclear bomb threat, the questions of whether a few cockeyed settlers will again pitch a tent on some godforsaken hill, or whether Palestinian youths again snipe at bored soldiers in the Kasbah of Hebron seem trivial.
In Israel, at least, this realization seems to have taken root. It is highly likely, in fact, that the rush to negotiations right now has more to do with Iran than with anything else. After all, everyone in the region is afraid of Iran. It is one of the sole issues that unite Israel with many of its Arab neighbors, including the Palestinians in the west bank.
A peace with the Palestinians is likely to get Israel in the U.S. and the world’s good graces, buying it maneuvering room Vis a Vis Iran. Such peace will make it easier for other Arab nations to tacitly aid Israel if and when it decides to attack Iran. And right now, the ‘if’ part of that previous sentence seems by all evidence merely rhetorical.
On its face, the fairly resounding yawn with which the renewal of talks has been received is puzzling. After all, the war between Palestinians and Israelis is a perennial international attention grabber. Moreover, peace has ostensibly been the dream of citizens and the desire of their governments on both sides of the table for a long time.
For both Israelis and Palestinians, much of the quality of daily existence now—and the nature, or even odds, of future existence—hinges on whether there’s war or peace between the sides. For the lives of individuals, the character and destiny of the nations involved, and even the shape of regional and world politics, this is a huge deal.
And yet nobody seems to really be talking about the peace talks. No one is excited. No one is celebrating. No one is happy.
One obvious explanation is that people hold their enthusiasm and hopes in check given past experience. After all, Israelis and Palestinians have been at it for years. The basic parameters of a workable agreement have been known for decades, and yet little progress has been made. Therefore, it is understandable why nobody is eager to don the party hat upon hearing of the promise of peace. On top of that general skepticism, particular doubts remain about the current leaders on both sides, and their ability to deliver for their people.
Another explanation is that vast populations in Israel and the Palestinian community no longer want peace. They want war. The strength of the broader Palestinian camp’s commitment to peace has always been rightfully questioned. No ‘Peace Now’ movement has ever emerged in the occupied territories. And while the choice by Gaza Palestinians to pick Hamas to rule them surely denotes a complexity of motives and desires, an inclination toward peace and reconciliation cannot easily be inferred as one of them. The echoes of a historical Jihadist ethos have not been banished from Palestinian life.
On the Israeli side, the situation is a bit difference. Israel has forever seen, presented, and from time to time conducted itself as a peace-seeking nation. Various peace movements have always dotted the landscape of Israeli culture and politics. Israeli children, like me, were fed the dream and hope and promise of peace from childhood. But Israel is changing. The hegemonic old school Zionist ethos, with its largely secular, democratic, and dovish sensibilities, is on the decline. Ascendant forces in Israeli demographics, politics and culture are largely autocratic, messianic, hawkish, and militaristic.
Large and powerful segments of Israeli culture no longer wish for peace with the Palestinians, but for their removal or annihilation— either by military force or by divine intervention. In this sense, Bibi and Barak—for all their haughtiness, ineptitude, duplicity, and brutality—represent perhaps the last of a dying breed, having kept a commitment, however sloppy, to the idea of the usefulness of peace and a foot, or at least a toe, in the world of reason and of secular, democratic values. Their likely successors—the Liebermans and Eli Yishays and their ilk—are a much more frightening bunch, untethered as they are to the principles of secularism, democracy and enlightenment that were so alive within early Zionism.
The ascendant forces within Israeli culture are not merely skeptical about the actual possibility of peace, but opposed to even the ideal of it.
Another likely reason for the lukewarm reception of these peace talks may reside far away from the disputed land itself, in Iran. It is not a rare occurrence in history that a pressing problem outlasts its own prominence; that by the time a movie gets to the climax, the audience has already lost their interest in movies altogether. This descent into irrelevancy can happen suddenly, even after many years at the top.
The Israeli-Palestinian conflict may be experiencing such a moment. By now, the question of the Iranian bomb has become de facto the deciding issue in the Middle East. In light of the looming nuclear bomb threat, the questions of whether a few cockeyed settlers will again pitch a tent on some godforsaken hill, or whether Palestinian youths again snipe at bored soldiers in the Kasbah of Hebron seem trivial.
In Israel, at least, this realization seems to have taken root. It is highly likely, in fact, that the rush to negotiations right now has more to do with Iran than with anything else. After all, everyone in the region is afraid of Iran. It is one of the sole issues that unite Israel with many of its Arab neighbors, including the Palestinians in the west bank.
A peace with the Palestinians is likely to get Israel in the U.S. and the world’s good graces, buying it maneuvering room Vis a Vis Iran. Such peace will make it easier for other Arab nations to tacitly aid Israel if and when it decides to attack Iran. And right now, the ‘if’ part of that previous sentence seems by all evidence merely rhetorical.
posted by Noam Shpancer at 5:16 AM
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