Zeinab Abul-Magd, Militarizing the Nation: The Army, Business, and Revolution in Egypt (New Texts Out Now)

Zeinab Abul-Magd, Militarizing the Nation: The Army, Business, and Revolution in Egypt (New Texts Out Now)

Zeinab Abul-Magd, Militarizing the Nation: The Army, Business, and Revolution in Egypt (New Texts Out Now)

By : Zeinab Abul-Magd

Zeinab Abul-Magd, Militarizing the Nation: The Army, Business, and Revolution in Egypt (New York: Columbia University Press, 2017)

Jadaliyya (J): What made you write this book?

Zeinab Abul-Magd (ZAM): I was in Egypt when the 2011 uprisings were taking place and participated in many of the major events. It was my sabbatical year from Oberlin, and I had just finished my first history book. The Egyptian military institution, then ruling the country after Mubarak was overthrown, was heavily criticized for its political oppression of protesters, but little was mentioned or published about their economic domination over the country through a vast business empire. When I started to investigate the subject at that time, I discovered that the last book ever to mention the Egyptian army’s business was published in 1989 by prominent political scientist Robert Spring, who had resided in Egypt for years. It had been a political taboo in the three decades prior to the uprisings for Egyptian media or researchers to talk about military business or the military’s unaccountable budget. A few New York Times and Washington Post reporters published some interesting stories on the issue, but none was published in Arabic by the Egyptian press. The army’s business was a big secret that the military entrepreneurs kept. While in Egypt in 2011-12, I became extremely interested in unearthing their clandestine business conglomerates and investigating their roots in recent history. 

I try in this book to trace the genealogies of the Egyptian military institution’s rise to full economic and political supremacy.

J:  What particular topics, issues, and literatures does the book address?

ZAM: From a political economy approach, I try in this book to trace the genealogies of the Egyptian military institution’s rise to full economic and political supremacy. In Egypt’s post-colonial history, the army saved the “nation” and posed as its faithful guardian several times, but saving the nation was inseparable from militarizing it. I try to follow how Egypt’s semi-autonomous military institution has been visibly, or often invisibly, hegemonizing the country’s economy and society as a whole throughout the past six decades. Uniquely in its regional context, the Egyptian army has adapted and benefited from crucial moments of change and has survived old and new waves of revolutionary shifts in the country. It weathered fundamental moments of transition to socialism in the 1960s, market consumerism in the 1980s, and neoliberalism from the 1990s onward, all while successfully expanding a mammoth business empire and enhancing its political supremacy. Recently, it has survived hard times during two popular uprisings, retained full power, and subsequently increased its wealth.

From a Foucauldian vantage point, I also try to look at how while adjusting to these difficult shifts, the military officers have successfully turned the urban milieus of the population into an ever-expanded military camp—into sites of their permanent armed presence, continuous surveillance, and control of everyday life. The military institution’s business enterprises tapped into consumerist realms of the rich and poor citizens alike, for both unaccountable profit and optimized social command. In the meantime, military bureaucrats securitized local urbanities to watch over docile or discontented masses during times of both peace and rebellious turmoil.

Generally, this book was very hard to write, as I suffered from an essential problem with the availability and accessibility of sources throughout the process of collecting material, both primary and secondary. The army’s business records and locations are considered “military secrets,” and civilians are allowed no access to them for, allegedly, “national security” reasons. There is an absolute lack of transparency in (or public accountability over) the military’s civilian enterprises—they are not even listed on the Egyptian stock market. As I have just mentioned, published literature on the Egyptian military institution has been scarce over the past few decades. For instance, Robert Springborg published the last English monograph covering the Egyptian army and its economic interests in 1989, and Ahmad Abdallah edited the last Arabic volume on relevant topics in 1990. Two decades would pass before Hazem Kandil published a new book on the ruling officers, with a chief focus on Nasser’s period, in 2011.

A considerable breakthrough took place in the availability of sources after January 2011. The few months that immediately followed the uprisings witnessed a rare and very short-lived moment of great openness in media and social networks, with an unprecedented degree of the journalists and the masses alike seizing their freedom of expression in a fluid and hardly controlled political milieu. Printed newspapers during this period took great advantage of the revolutionary influx and published endless stories undermining existing journalistic taboos on the military’s budget and business profit. Discontented youth, workers, government employees, and local communities all created Facebook pages or YouTube channels to voice their grievances against military business managers. The outcome was a wealth of previously hidden and highly critical information necessary to decipher the clandestine realities of the Egyptian military. Being in Egypt and observing such a unique moment taking place at the time, I tried to collect this fortune of information to unearth evidence on long secreted matters. Without the 2011 uprisings, this book would have never been written.

J: How does this book connect to and/or depart from your previous work?

ZAM: As a result of growing up under the authoritarian regime of Mubarak in Egypt, I have always been preoccupied with the question of revolution. Resistance against economic and political oppression is the theme that runs through all of my publications, even if they tremendously differ in terms of the time periods and the topics they cover. I have also always been keen on understanding the political economy of oppression and rebellion in the past and the present, and thus, a political economy approach is another thread running across my research.

I worked on my first book when Mubarak was still in power, when his police state repressed the south of the country, Upper Egypt, much more than other regions and kept it economically undeveloped way below the poverty line. So, my first book, titled, Imagined Empires: A History of Revolt in Egypt, went to the Egyptian national archives to investigate the roots of political and economic marginalization of south Egypt by various early modern and modern empires and domestics centralized governments in the course of five centuries—from 1500s until the present day. More importantly, it attempted to recollect untold histories of subaltern revolts in Upper Egypt, against both imperial hegemony and an evolving nation-state. The book was a microhistory of the Qina province in the deep south, investigating how early modern and modern empires altered socio-economic structures, generated environmental crises, and eventually failed and marginalized the south within an evolving centralized state. Their failure was faced by low-class small riots or massive revolts, whose leaders were often times male and female bandits.

Although Militarizing the Nation seems to be very far away in its period and topic from Imagined Empires, they are similar in that both scrutinize the history of repression and revolt through a political economy approach to the old or recent past.

J: Who do you hope will read this book, and what sort of impact would you like it to have?

ZAM: First, of course, I hope that Middle Eastern studies researchers and students will be able to read it and draw comparisons with other old and new military regimes in the region. The Middle East has witnessed the rise and fall or survival of so many other military regimes in Syria, Iraq, Libya, Yemen, Algeria, Turkey, Sudan, etc., and there are harsh lessons to learn from their experiences. The Egyptian officers’ experience remains unique, and it is worth understanding their astounding adaptability and durability. In addition to that, I hope that Egyptian and Arab grassroots activists on the ground will read the book because I wish for it to be the historical register of the economic and social brutalities of the Egyptian ruling generals before and after the 2011 uprisings, and I wish for it to be deployed as a tool for continuous resistance.

J: What other projects are you working on now?

ZAM: I am working on a popular history book about the Middle East in World War One. It will be a big shift from Militarizing the Nation, but I will continue writing on the military and the economy because it is my duty as a political activist—besides being an academic!

J: Will you be able to travel or return to Egypt after writing this book?

The question I always get is whether I am able to go back to Egypt after publishing the book. I can assure you that the big brother is keeping a close eye on me both in the U.S. and Egypt. Fortunately, I am able to go back and forth to Egypt to spend time with my family and observe how the current military regime is unfolding and progressing, either for its ever-lasting survival or final demise. One thing remains clear though: you can never predict things in Egyptian politics!

 

Excerpt from the  Introduction:

After the sweeping wave of the “Arab Spring” uprisings that erupted in 2011, the Egyptian Army stood among a few Arab militaries that not only remained intact but also succeeded in restoring command over its crumbling state. Military regimes and military-backed autocrats were born across the Middle East ever since its states gained independence from European colonialism in the mid-twentieth century. Tens of military coup d’états took place in the region and gave birth to officer-dominated regimes in postcolonial Arab states such as Syria, Libya, Iraq, Algeria, Tunisia, Yemen, and Egypt. These authoritarian regimes lasted for decades, until many of them finally collapsed under mass unrest in 2011. This wave led not only to overthrowing old military dictators such as Muammar al-Qadhafi of Libya or Ali Abdullah Saleh of Yemen but also to dismantling many of their military institutions. Next door to Egypt in Syria, the son of a military dictator who inherited his father’s security state, Bashar al-Assad, has not yet been deposed, but his army has been similarly severely fractured. In Egypt, however, the aging military autocrat, Hosni Mubarak, was overthrown, but his army was kept fully intact and managed to shortly reinstate the military regime anew amid cheering masses. This book follows the historical roots of the Egyptian Army’s political and economic might and how it survived the Arab Spring to restore absolute dominance.

When President Abdel Fattah al-Sisi swept elections in the summer of 2014, he was the fourth officer to take off his uniform and rule Egypt since its independence…During these long decades, the army has militarized everyday life of its subjugated and manipulated citizens across social classes. It has baked them subsidized bread, built affordable apartments, opened wedding halls, constructed football stadiums, and sold all sorts of consumer goods. The banners of military-owned expansive farms, manufacturing conglomerates, or contraction companies are visibly installed atop their supermarkets, large shopping malls, toll highways, bridges, luxury hotels, summer resorts, and even parking lots. Moreover, retired generals have taken charge of state authorities and public-sector companies that provide citizens with basic services from water and sewerage, transportation, and road maintenance to telephone lines and the Internet. Above all this, the military has penetrated into the daily life of every family through compulsory conscription of male youths for a period between one and three years. A young man cannot travel, get a job, or even get married without finishing his military service first. In the meantime, the army produces popular songs about heroic officers, makes documentaries about brave soldiers, opens museums displaying great battles from pharaonic to modern times, and distributes charitable items to the poor in big festivities celebrating its sacrifices for the nation.

While adapting to change and adjusting to transformations, the Egyptian military switched ideologies and socioeconomic alliances and altered external allies. The first military president, Nasser, opted for socialism, favored the middle and lower classes, made friends with the Soviet Union during the Cold War, and made enemies of conservative Arabian Gulf regimes. On the contrary, his successor Sadat decided to embrace an open-market economy, partner with a class of local business tycoons, switch Cold War camps to the United States, and revive relations with the oil-producing Gulf states. Mubarak followed Sadat’s footsteps to encourage big consumerism in the 1980s, until he fully transformed the country into neoliberalism in the 1990s and the 2000s. Within these changing environments, the military as an institution positioned itself to maximize its power and profit at every moment of transformation. It was an army that fought for Arab liberation and socialism in the 1960s, fully embraced market consumerism through venturing into civilian production in the 1980s, and finally adopted neoliberalism to expand a business empire in collaboration with local and foreign capital throughout the 1990s and 2000s. Moreover, during the last ten years of Mubarak’s reign, retired generals occupied numerous key bureaucratic positions managing his neoliberal state, which was infamous for clientelism, corruption, and inefficiency. When the wealthy Muslim Brothers rose to power in 2011, the military quickly allied itself with the new elite and expanded its business enterprises under their regime. But the officers soon switched domestic alliances again to other discontented political stances and social groups to take down the Islamist regime. Toward this end, they relied on the indispensable help of oil-producing Arab Gulf states, displeased the United States., and revived old ties with Russia.

Militarizing the nation was justified when the army was fighting big wars. But the Egyptian military fought its last war and signed a peace treaty with its main enemy, Israel, four decades ago. Thus, as it almost lost importance and relevance in society, the military had to reinvent its image and forge new nationalistic myths in order to maintain its omnipotent presence in the nation... After signing the peace accord with Israel in 1978, the Egyptian military was required to reduce its size and budget and keep to its barracks. Nonetheless, it continued to impose compulsory conscription, enjoy a considerable budget, and intensively occupy the socioeconomic realms of the masses.

In the time of peace, the Egyptian military reinvented its role in society. It claimed that its new duties now were to contribute to the country’s economic development. In reality, it turned the whole society into a big military camp under its constant surveillance. Through business ventures and civilian positions, the military sustained its uninterrupted gaze over the urban milieu and securitized the everyday life of subjected citizens. The guardians of the nation had already been living outside of their barracks for a long time when they offered their help to save the country in the past few years.

Through tracing the history of the Egyptian military institution from the 1950s until the present day, this book applies political economy and Foucauldian approaches to deconstruct how the officers have repeatedly saved and long militarized the nation. It attempts to decipher the mysteries of the institution’s ability to constantly adapt to change by reinventing its image, altering its doctrine, redeploying its patriotic rhetoric, and reforging its socioeconomic alliances in order to maintain power and hegemonize the citizens as their only trusted guardian. While contextualizing it within its domestic, regional, and global environments, the book investigates transformations in the Egyptian military institution and the distant and near roots of its rise to full supremacy today.

The book poses four main arguments in this regard. First, it argues that the military institution that exists in Egypt today is not the same as the one that created the country’s first military regime sixty years ago. A fundamental rupture took place in this institution in 1980s, which gave birth to the new army that rules the country today. Old and new armies differ in their socioeconomic composition, their doctrine, and the way they militarized society. Whereas the old army was led by lower- to middle-class soldiers who rose into an affluent ruling elite and militarized society through war and socialism, the new army is controlled by a class of managers of military business enterprises, or “neoliberal officers,” and militarizes society through market hegemony. Whereas the old army’s ambitious doctrine adopted an Arab nationalist identity, a socialist ideology, and was externally oriented to regional affairs, the new army’s less ambitious doctrine focuses on narrow Egyptian patriotism and is internally oriented to domestic matters…

Second, the book argues that before the uprisings of 2011, the officers were an integral part, or rather makers, of Mubarak’s neoliberal regime. This regime was deposed owing to its failure to deliver social justice and was plagued by patron-client relations, conspicuous corruption, overall decadence of public services, and acute social disparities. Throughout the 2000s, as he accelerated the pace of transforming to neoliberalism, Mubarak hired an ever increasing number of retired officers in civilian positions in order to “coup-proof” his regime. While he maintained a civilian face for the state in Cairo by appointing cabinets of civilian technocrats, retired generals were the de facto rulers of most of provincial Egypt through occupying the seats of local governors. More important, retired officers were major participants in running a dysfunctional market economy, as they were hired heads of numerous government authorities responsible for the key economic activities of the liberalized state…

Third, the book argues that the Egyptian military is a product of its regional and global contexts and has changed with major transformations in these wider surroundings…

Finally, this book argues that the Egyptian military’s engagement in business and the bureaucracy was not simply to generate profit and amass resources. There is a Foucauldian twist to the story. By tapping into the consumerist markets of all social classes and governing their urban milieu, the officers managed to establish their constant surveillance over the population toward full control. The Egyptian military is a modern institution in a modern state. According to Michel Foucault’s deconstruction of the modern state’s mechanisms of power, this state developed the practice of closely observing the society in order to make it a disciplined and docile population. Foucault illustrates how the state adopted the model of a military camp, that is, of keeping a permanent gaze over the hierarchized dwellers of the camp, as a perfect structure in urban development, toward disciplinary control over every individual body. In Security, Territory, and Population, Foucault indicates that the modern state aimed at structuring its urban institutions in the military camp’s “panoptic” shape, which “basically involves putting someone in the center—an eye, a gaze, a principle of surveillance—who will be able to make its sovereignty function over all the individuals [placed] within this machine of power. To that extent we can say that the panopticon is the oldest dream of the oldest sovereign: None of my subjects can escape and none of their actions is unknown to me.” In the Egyptian case, the military institution that exercises state power by itself has turned the whole society into an infinite, long-lasting camp where everyday life is subjected to the officer’s visible or invisible watch, yet with allegations of achieving security or guarding the nation.

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New Texts Out Now: Mandy Turner and Cherine Hussein, guest eds. "Israel-Palestine after Oslo: Mapping Transformations in a Time of Deepening Crisis." Special Issue of Conflict, Security & Development

Conflict, Security and Development, Volume 15, No. 5 (December 2015) Special issue: "Israel-Palestine after Oslo: Mapping Transformations in a Time of Deepening Crisis," Guest Editors: Mandy Turner and Cherine Hussein.

Jadaliyya (J): What made you compile this volume?

Mandy Turner (MT): Both the peace process and the two-state solution are dead. Despite more than twenty years of negotiations, Israel’s occupation, colonization and repression continue–and the political and geographical fragmentation of the Palestinian people is proceeding apace.

This is not news, nor is it surprising to any keen observer of the situation. But what is surprising–and thus requires explanation – is the resilience of the Oslo framework and paradigm: both objectively and subjectively. It operates objectively as a straitjacket by trapping Palestinians in economic and security arrangements that are designed to ensure stabilization and will not to lead to sovereignty or a just and sustainable solution. And it operates subjectively as a straitjacket by shutting out discussion of alternative ways of understanding the situation and ways out of the impasse. The persistence of this framework that is focused on conflict management and stabilization, is good for Israel but bad for Palestinians.

The Oslo peace paradigm–of a track-one, elite-level, negotiated two-state solution–is therefore in crisis. And yet it is entirely possible that the current situation could continue for a while longer–particularly given the endorsement and support it enjoys from the major Western donors and the “international community,” as well as the fact that there has been no attempt to develop an alternative. The immediate short-term future is therefore bleak.

Guided by these observations, this special issue sought to undertake two tasks. The first task was to analyze the perceptions underpinning the Oslo framework and paradigm as well as some of the transformations instituted by its implementation: why is it so resilient, what has it created? The second task, which follows on from the first, was then to ask: how can we reframe our understanding of what is happening, what are some potential alternatives, and who is arguing and mobilizing for them?

These questions and themes grew out of a number of conversations with early-career scholars – some based at the Kenyon Institute in East Jerusalem, and some based in the occupied Palestinian territory and elsewhere. These conversations led to two interlinked panels at the International Studies Association annual convention in Toronto, Canada, in March 2014. To have two panels accepted on “conflict transformation and resistance in Palestine” at such a conventional international relations conference with (at the time unknown) early-career scholars is no mean feat. The large and engaged audience we received at these panels – with some very established names coming along (one of whom contributed to this special issue) – convinced us that this new stream of scholars and scholarship should have an outlet.  

J: What particular topics, issues, and literatures do the articles address?

MT: The first half of the special issue analyzes how certain problematic assumptions shaped the Oslo framework, and how the Oslo framework in turn shaped the political, economic and territorial landscape.

Virginia Tilley’s article focuses on the paradigm of conflict resolution upon which the Oslo Accords were based, and calls for a re-evaluation of what she argues are the two interlinked central principles underpinning its worldview: internationally accepted notions of Israeli sovereignty; and the internationally accepted idea that the “conflict” is essentially one between two peoples–the “Palestinian people” and the “Jewish people”. Through her critical interrogation of these two “common sense” principles, Tilley proposes that the “conflict” be reinterpreted as an example of settler colonialism, and, as a result of this, recommends an alternative conflict resolution model based on a paradigm shift away from an ethno-nationalist division of the polity towards a civic model of the nation.

Tariq Dana unpacks another central plank of the Oslo paradigm–that of promoting economic relations between Israel and the OPT. He analyses this through the prism of “economic peace” (particularly the recent revival of theories of “capitalist peace”), whose underlying assumptions are predicated on the perceived superiority of economic approaches over political approaches to resolving conflict. Dana argues that there is a symbiosis between Israeli strategies of “economic peace” and recent Palestinian “statebuilding strategies” (referred to as Fayyadism), and that both operate as a form of pacification and control because economic cooperation leaves the colonial relationship unchallenged.

The political landscape in the OPT has been transformed by the Oslo paradigm, particularly by the creation of the Palestinian Authority (PA). Alaa Tartir therefore analyses the basis, agenda and trajectory of the PA, particularly its post-2007 state building strategy. By focusing on the issue of local legitimacy and accountability, and based on fieldwork in two sites in the occupied West Bank (Balata and Jenin refugee camps), Tartir concludes that the main impact of the creation of the PA on ordinary people’s lives has been the strengthening of authoritarian control and the hijacking of any meaningful visions of Palestinian liberation.

The origin of the administrative division between the West Bank and Gaza Strip is the focus of Tareq Baconi’s article. He charts how Hamas’s initial opposition to the Oslo Accords and the PA was transformed over time, leading to its participation (and success) in the 2006 legislative elections. Baconi argues that it was the perceived demise of the peace process following the collapse of the Camp David discussions that facilitated this change. But this set Hamas on a collision course with Israel and the international community, which ultimately led to the conflict between Hamas and Fateh, and the administrative division, which continues to exist.

The special issue thereafter focuses, in the second section, on alternatives and resistance to Oslo’s transformations.

Cherine Hussein’s article charts the re-emergence of the single-state idea in opposition to the processes of separation unleashed ideologically and practically that were codified in the Oslo Accords. Analysing it as both a movement of resistance and as a political alternative to Oslo, while recognizing that it is currently largely a movement of intellectuals (particularly of diaspora Palestinians and Israelis), Hussein takes seriously its claim to be a more just and liberating alternative to the two-state solution.

My article highlights the work of a small but dedicated group of anti-Zionist Jewish-Israeli activists involved in two groups: Zochrot and Boycott from Within. Both groups emerged in the post-Second Intifada period, which was marked by deep disillusionment with the Oslo paradigm. This article unpacks the alternative – albeit marginalized – analysis, solution and route to peace proposed by these groups through the application of three concepts: hegemony, counter-hegemony and praxis. The solution, argue the activists, lies in Israel-Palestine going through a process of de-Zionization and decolonization, and the process of achieving this lies in actions in solidarity with Palestinians.

This type of solidarity action is the focus of the final article by Suzanne Morrison, who analyses the “We Divest” campaign, which is the largest divestment campaign in the US and forms part of the wider Palestinian Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions movement. Through attention to their activities and language, Morrison shows how “We Divest”, with its networked, decentralized, grassroots and horizontal structure, represents a new way of challenging Israel’s occupation and the suppression of Palestinian rights.

The two parts of the special issue are symbiotic: the critique and alternative perspectives analyzed in part two are responses to the issues and problems identified in part one.

J: How does this volume connect to and/or depart from your previous work?

MT: My work focuses on the political economy of donor intervention (which falls under the rubric of “peacebuilding”) in the OPT, particularly a critique of the Oslo peace paradigm and framework. This is a product of my broader conceptual and historical interest in the sociology of intervention as a method of capitalist expansion and imperial control (as explored in “The Politics of International Intervention: the Tyranny of Peace”, co-edited with Florian Kuhn, Routledge, 2016), and how post-conflict peacebuilding and development agendas are part of this (as explored in “Whose Peace: Critical Perspectives on the Political Economy of Peacebuilding”, co-edited with Michael Pugh and Neil Cooper (PalgraveMacmillan, 2008).  

My first book on Palestine (co-edited with Omar Shweiki), Decolonizing Palestinian Political Economy: De-development and Beyond (PalgraveMacmillan, 2014), was a collection of essays by experts in their field, of the political-economic experience of different sections of the Palestinian community. The book, however, aimed to reunite these individual experiences into one historical political-economy narrative of a people experiencing a common theme of dispossession, disenfranchisement and disarticulation. It was guided by the desire to critically assess the utility of the concept of de-development to different sectors and issues–and had a foreword by Sara Roy, the scholar who coined the term, and who was involved in the workshop from which the book emerged.

This co-edited special issue (with Cherine Hussein, who, at the time of the issue construction, was the deputy director of the Kenyon Institute) was therefore the next logical step in my research on Palestine, although my article on Jewish-Israeli anti-Zionists did constitute a slight departure from my usual focus.

J: Who do you hope will read this volume, and what sort of impact would you like it to have?

MT: I would imagine the main audience will be those whose research and political interests lie in Palestine Studies. It is difficult, given the structure of academic publishing – which has become ever more corporate and money grabbing – for research outputs such as this to be accessed by the general public. Only those with access to academic libraries are sure to be able to read it – and this is a travesty, in my opinion. To counteract this commodification of knowledge, we should all provide free access to our outputs through online open source websites such as academia.edu, etc. If academic research is going to have an impact beyond merely providing more material for teaching and background reading for yet more research (which is inaccessible to the general public) then this is essential. Websites such as Jadaliyya are therefore incredibly important.

Having said all that, I am under no illusions about the potential for ANY research on Israel-Palestine to contribute to changing the dynamics of the situation. However, as a collection of excellent analyses conducted by mostly early-career scholars in the field of Palestine studies, I am hopeful that their interesting and new perspectives will be read and digested. 

J: What other projects are you working on now?

MT: I am currently working on an edited volume provisionally entitled From the River to the Sea: Disintegration, Reintegration and Domination in Israel and Palestine. This book is the culmination of a two-year research project funded by the British Academy, which analyzed the impacts of the past twenty years of the Oslo peace framework and paradigm as processes of disintegration, reintegration and domination – and how they have created a new socio-economic and political landscape, which requires new agendas and frameworks. I am also working on a new research project with Tariq Dana at Birzeit University on capital and class in the occupied West Bank.

Excerpt from the Editor’s Note 

[Note: This issue was published in Dec. 2015]

Initially perceived to have inaugurated a new era of hope in the search for peace and justice in Palestine-Israel, the Oslo peace paradigm of a track one, elite-level, negotiated two-state solution is in crisis today, if not completely at an end.

While the major Western donors and the ‘international community’ continue to publicly endorse the Oslo peace paradigm, Israeli and Palestinian political elites have both stepped away from it. The Israeli government has adopted what appears to be an outright rejection of the internationally-accepted end-goal of negotiations, i.e. the emergence of a Palestinian state based on the 1967 borders with East Jerusalem as its capital. In March 2015, in the final days of his re-election campaign, Israeli Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, visited the Jewish settlement of Har Homa in Palestinian East Jerusalem, which is regarded as illegal under international law. Reminding its inhabitants that it was him and his Likud government that had established the settlement in 1997 as part of the Israeli state’s vision of a unified indivisible Jerusalem, he promised to expand the construction of settlements in East Jerusalem if re-elected. And in an interview with Israeli news site, NRG, Netanyahu vowed that the prospects of a Palestinian state were non-existent as long as he remained in office. Holding on to the occupied Palestinian territory (oPt), he argued, was necessary to ensure Israel’s security in the context of regional instability and Islamic extremism. It is widely acknowledged that Netanyahu’s emphasis on Israel’s security—against both external and internal enemies—gave him a surprise win in an election he was widely expected to lose.

Despite attempts to backtrack under recognition that the US and European states are critical of this turn in official Israeli state policy, Netanyahu’s promise to bury the two-state solution in favour of a policy of further annexation has become the Israeli government’s official intent, and has been enthusiastically endorsed by leading ministers and key advisers.

[…]

The Palestinian Authority (PA) based in the West Bank also appears to have rejected a key principle of the Oslo peace paradigm—that of bilateral negotiations under the supervision of the US. Despite a herculean effort by US Secretary of State, John Kerry, to bring the two parties to the negotiating table, in response to the lack of movement towards final status issues and continued settlement expansion (amongst other issues), the Palestinian political elite have withdrawn from negotiations and resumed attempts to ‘internationalise the struggle’ by seeking membership of international organisations such as the United Nations (UN), and signing international treaties such as the Rome Statute, the founding treaty of the International Criminal Court. This change of direction is part of a rethink in the PA and PLO’s strategy rooted in wider discussions and debates. The publication of a document by the Palestine Strategy Study Group (PSSG) in August 2008, the production of which involved many members of the Palestinian political elite (and whose recommendations were studiously discussed at the highest levels of the PA and PLO), showed widespread discontent with the bilateral negotiations framework and suggested ways in which Palestinians could ‘regain the initiative’.

[…]

And yet despite these changes in official Palestinian and Israeli political strategies that signal a deepening of the crisis, donors and the ‘international community’ are reluctant to accept the failure of the Oslo peace paradigm. This political myopia has meant the persistence of a framework that is increasingly divorced from the possibility of a just and sustainable peace. It is also acting as an ideological straitjacket by shutting out alternative interpretations. This special issue seeks a way out of this political and intellectual dead end. In pursuit of this, our various contributions undertake what we regard to be two key tasks: first, to critically analyse the perceptions underpinning the Oslo paradigm and the transformations instituted by its implementation; and second, to assess some alternative ways of understanding the situation rooted in new strategies of resistance that have emerged in the context of these transformations in the post-Oslo landscape.

[…]

Taken as a whole, the articles in this special issue aim to ignite conversations on the conflict that are not based within abstracted debates that centre upon the peace process itself—but that begin from within the realities and geographies of both the continually transforming land of Palestine-Israel and the voices, struggles, worldviews and imaginings of the future of the people who presently inhabit it. For it is by highlighting these transformations, and from within these points of beginning, that we believe more hopeful pathways for alternative ways forward can be collectively imagined, articulated, debated and built.