Nathan J. Citino, Envisioning the Arab Future: Modernization in U.S.-Arab Relations, 1945-1967 (New Texts Out Now)

Nathan J. Citino, Envisioning the Arab Future: Modernization in U.S.-Arab Relations, 1945-1967 (New Texts Out Now)

Nathan J. Citino, Envisioning the Arab Future: Modernization in U.S.-Arab Relations, 1945-1967 (New Texts Out Now)

By : Nathan Citino

Nathan J. Citino, Envisioning the Arab Future: Modernization in U.S.-Arab Relations, 1945-1967. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2017.

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

Nathan Citino (NC): Envisioning the Arab Future is a product of my graduate training in history at Ohio State.  There, at the end of the last century, I had the opportunity to combine U.S. with Middle East history fields and to learn to read Arabic. This background opened up exciting possibilities for studying the implications of U.S. power for Arab societies through readings in Middle East historiography and Arabic sources.  My cohort of U.S. foreign policy historians included some, such as Salim Yaqub, who were doing similar work in other graduate programs.  But I’ve also learned a lot since then from scholars in Middle East studies who have examined the regional imperial role of Americans as successors to the Ottomans, French, and British.  At the same time that I was trying to understand U.S. power in a regional context, scholars such as Robert Vitalis and Cyrus Schayegh identified new ways of situating the Middle East within global frameworks.  These influences have led me to think about the relationship between global and regional histories, and to look for ways of transcending U.S.-centric perspectives on the Arab Middle East.

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

Keeping in mind serious disparities in power, I tried to present Arab modernizers as full participants in debates about modernization, and to consider what happened when U.S. policies out of the New Deal met other societies’ reform legacies, such as that of the Ottoman Tanzimat in the Arab Middle East.

NC: The book uses modernization as a theme for connecting postcolonial Arab history with the history of U.S. policies during the cold war.  Prior to 1945, Arab societies had experienced movements for change as part of Ottoman reforms, the Nahda, European colonialism and anti-colonialism, wartime mobilization, and the struggle against Zionism. In the postwar era Arab countries also joined a world of decolonizing states, became part of the “third world,” and confronted the U.S.-Soviet cold war rivalry. So I looked for intersections between these regional and global influences, drawing on Middle East and cold war historiographies. Among others, I read Timothy Mitchell and Omnia El Shakry on modernization in Egypt; Ussama Makdisi on sectarianism and “Ottoman Orientalism”; Orit Bashkin on contending forms of Iraqi nationalism; Martha Mundy and Michael Fischbach on land reform in Transjordan; and On Barak, Yoav Di-Capua, and Pascal Menoret on the technologies and meanings of speed.  In addition to conventional research in U.S. and British archives, I sought out Arabic voices from across a political spectrum – nationalists, Islamists, and communists – and worked in collections at the American University of Beirut and the American University in Cairo, including the rich Hassan Fathy Archive. From this research, I identified the case studies on which I based the book’s chapters: cold-war Arab travel; U.S. oil interests and uses of the Ottoman legacy; community-building and gender; land reform; Iraqi nationalism during the ‘Abd al-Karim Qasim regime; Nasser and Arab Socialism; and hijackings and the crisis of Palestinian statelessness. 

The basic argument is that Americans and Arabs waged political conflicts within a shared set of cold-war-era concepts concerning modernization. These included a structural understanding of society as a system consisting of interdependent parts; faith in linear progress and the capacity of the state to transform society and nature; and the essential role of elites in uplifting women, workers, and peasants. The case studies follow the rise and decline of modernization as a contested but hegemonic concept from the end of World War Two until the 1967 Arab-Israeli War.

My approach challenges several existing interpretations of modernization in U.S.-Arab relations.  One is Orientalist or cultural-essentialist:  the belief, criticized by Edward Said in Orientalism (1978), that fundamental differences separate Middle Eastern societies from “the West.” By illustrating the ways that American and Arab elites invoked shared concepts to wage political conflicts, the book undermines assumptions about categorical difference. Such assumptions may have been discredited in scholarly circles but remain ubiquitous in popular and media accounts.  The book also addresses the ambiguities in Said’s criticism regarding the degree to which the U.S. inherited Orientalism from Europe and in what forms. 

Another interpretation comes from the U.S. foreign policy literature that describes “modernization” as a cold-war artifact. This includes scholarship by Michael Latham, who deserves credit for defining modernization’s attributes, as well as Nils Gilman, Nick Cullather, and David Ekbladh. This perspective tends to portray the U.S. as the source of modernization and to focus on attempts at exporting New Deal liberalism to the “third world.”  Keeping in mind serious disparities in power, I tried to present Arab modernizers as full participants in debates about modernization, and to consider what happened when U.S. policies out of the New Deal met other societies’ reform legacies, such as that of the Ottoman Tanzimat in the Arab Middle East. 

Still another interpretation is the “global cold war” associated with Odd Arne Westad, who portrays the cold war as a universal experience and traces many of today’s international crises to superpower interventions in the “third world.”  This influential and stunningly researched study, focused on the binary rivalry across the globe between the superpowers’ antithetical versions of modernity, does not give equal weight to third-way ideologies such as Arab nationalism and Islamism. Greater attention to distinct, regional experiences of the cold war, I argue, is needed to incorporate such ideologies into accounts of the 20th century. Islamist movements are especially neglected in postwar international history prior to the 1970s; historians need to do more research to account for their antecedents and political significance.  Envisioning therefore portrays Islamists as participants in cold-war development debates.

Finally, I hoped to ask new kinds of questions regarding the U.S.-Arab encounter besides those related to U.S. policymaking, especially on Arab-Israeli diplomacy, oil, and regional defense. And I wanted to move beyond existing accounts that address the influence of racialized images of Arabs and Muslims in American culture. I tried to read U.S. and Arab accounts of one another as mutually-constituted and as the products of various encounters at multiple sites.

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

NC: My first book, From Arab Nationalism to OPEC: Eisenhower, King Sa‘ud, and the Making of U.S. Saudi Relations, began as my dissertation.  It was published by Indiana University Press in 2002, with a second edition published in 2010. That book is more of a traditional, bilateral policy study and uses fewer Arabic sources than Envisioning. Still, both books consider how U.S. power intersected with patterns in Middle East history. Both also address regional inequality between oil-exporting and non-exporting Arab states and describe that inequality as the product of an Anglo-American infrastructure of oil extraction built to fuel postwar European reconstruction. Perhaps the biggest difference is that Envisioning is a post-tenure book. I was fortunate to have opportunities to collect sources, present papers, publish articles, and absorb criticism.  It took a long time.

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

NC: I hope that students and scholars both in U.S. foreign relations and Middle East studies will read it.  My aim is to continue the dialogue between these two fields, which is essential to developing a critical historical scholarship about U.S. power in the Middle East down to today’s wars. For those of us who study U.S. foreign relations – or, increasingly, the “U.S. in the World” – making the field more international and less U.S.-centric requires greater engagement with regional historiographies and with colleagues who study other parts of the world.  Many other historians are pursuing similar approaches for Latin America, Africa, and Asia, as well as the Middle East. This work contributes to the ongoing reinvention of U.S. foreign relations over the last twenty years, in which scholars have focused more on non-elites, transnational phenomena, and non-state actors. I hope that scholars in Middle East studies will take from book a sense that research in U.S. sources can shed light on the nature of U.S. empire and that exchanges with historians of U.S. foreign relations can be of value. Finally, I hope that historians of economic development will find it useful as a study that interprets development in historical context.  Working on this theme has brought me into contact with accomplished scholars from whom I’ve learned a lot, such as Timothy Nunan and Alden Young. Those who study development in global perspective tackle really big historical questions, including the origins of today’s inequality and the shifting ways that human beings have imagined progress. 

J: What other projects are you working on now?

NC: I’m finishing a spin-off project about the United Nations Secretary-General Dag Hammarskjöld, his vision for Arab economic development after the Suez crisis, and his relationship with Nasser. This project draws on new research in Hammarskjöld’s papers at the National Library of Sweden.  Many of the most important UN secretariat records from the Hammarskjöld years are there and not in New York.  There has been important work published on the UN recently, including a volume edited by Karim Makdisi and Vijay Prashad. My chapter-length project looks at the UN’s economic development rather than peacekeeping role and Hammarskjöld’s bold but also paternalistic attempts at addressing Arab economic inequality through the reinvestment of oil revenues. I’d also like to finish an article project on the Camp David era.  In the long term, I have ideas for another book examining the meaning of U.S. empire in the Middle East and beyond.      

Excerpt from Chapter 1, “The Age of Speed”

“As for the distances, they are not so important today, for modern methods of communication have shortened them greatly. Baghdad is nearer to Damascus than Aleppo, Hama, Homs, and Beirut were in the past. If these distances did not prevent unity in the age of the camel, they will not do so in the age of the train, the automobile, and the plane. The distances between our countries are small when compared to those in the United States.”

-- Musa Alami, “The Lesson of Palestine”

“[T]he governing classes and students of underdeveloped countries are gold mines for airline companies.  African and Asian officials may in the same month follow a course on socialist planning in Moscow and one on the advantages of the liberal economy in London or at Columbia University.”

-- Frantz Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth

            For growing numbers of Arabs in the postwar era, the experience of travel linked Middle Eastern politics with global debates about modernization.  This basic fact is apparent from their writings, which are thick with descriptions of planes, airports, trains, ships, hired cars, and even rickshaws, as well as hotels, tourist sites, and showcase development projects.  Global travel was nothing new for Arabs with the means to undertake it, and Arab debates about modernity had long incorporated accounts of experiences abroad.  But travel assumed particular significance after 1945.  As will be seen from the examples presented in this chapter, the increasing speed of travel reinforced the tendency to draw prolific comparisons among development models as a defining feature of postwar politics.  Arab elites translated encounters with other peoples into terms that could be employed in ideological conflicts back home.  Many also used the experiences of traveling by plane, train, ship, or automobile as metaphors for characterizing their own societies as structures undergoing rapid change and for contesting who had the right to set society’s course.  Accounts of trips abroad and depictions of others, whether positive or negative, had helped previous Arab travelers to construct reform agendas and envision what modernity could mean for their own societies.  During the era of superpower conflict, swift modes of travel to the United States and elsewhere influenced Arab depictions of modernization.  Speed inspired modernizers to represent society’s development over time as acceleration through space.

This chapter focuses on travel in order to understand how the cold war affected Arab modernization debates.  It examines Arab memoirs and political writings to make three related arguments.  The first is that after 1945, Arab elites used travel experiences to the United States, the Soviet Union, and other “third world” regions to formulate ideas about modernization.  These cold-war travel experiences built upon the long-established practice in Arabic letters of using encounters with Europe to imagine modernity.  The second argument is that the bipolar competition between the superpowers intersected with an existing, multi-sided rivalry among anti-colonial ideologies within the Arab world.  Appropriating cold-war terminology, some Arab elites reconfigured anti-colonial movements from the early twentieth century – including Islamism – as modernizing “systems” modeled on those of Washington and Moscow. The third argument is that as Arab modernizers grew accustomed to traversing the globe, many employed speed metaphors to characterize their preferred paths to development.  The metaphor of “take-off,” popularized by economist and presidential advisor Walt Rostow in The Stages of Economic Growth, is the most famous use of speed to represent modernization.  Rostow held up the “high mass-consumption society” of the U.S. as a universal development model.  But his modernizing formula shared imagery and assumptions with those of Arab elites who rejected U.S. policies.  The presence of similar elements in Arabic writings points to shared concepts among otherwise dissimilar modernizers, including their structural interpretation of society, concern for elite authority, comparative methodology, and use of speed to represent progress.       

Following World War Two, Arab travelers observed America and other societies in a global context defined by rapid mobility. For instance, Jordanian diplomat ‘Abd al-Munim al-Rifa‘i (1917-1985) served the Hashemite kingdom in Cairo, Damascus, Athens, Tunis, and Teheran before becoming ambassador to Washington.  He summered in Maine, wintered in Miami, and motored by causeway to Key West.  From these experiences, he found American society “incompatible with intellectual complexity [ba‘id ‘an al-ta‘qid al-fikri].” In 1959, he accompanied King Husayn to Taiwan and across the Pacific to Hawaii and the continental U.S., where they appealed for economic and military aid.  The pair flew from Amman to Dhahran, Karachi, Bangkok, Taipei, Wake Island, and Honolulu, before arriving in San Francisco. Egyptian Islamist Sayyid Qutb (1906-1966) visited America between 1948 and 1950.  Qutb cruised by ship from Alexandria to New York and then traveled to Washington D.C., Denver, Palo Alto, and San Francisco.  He studied education in Greeley, Colorado, where the sight of adolescents dancing at a church social to the tune “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” confirmed his belief in America’s sexual immorality.  In a lament written from the U.S., whose material wealth he both admired and criticized, Qutb longed to discuss something other than “dollars, film stars, and car models.”  Qutb returned by plane to Cairo, where members of the Muslim Brotherhood met him at Faruq airfield.  He soon took off again for Saudi Arabia on the Muslim pilgrimage.  Syrian foreign minister Khalid al-‘Azm (1903-1965), scion of a notable family and known as the “Red Pasha,” arrived in New York in 1955 following a route that had taken him from Damascus to Beirut, Istanbul, Munich, Paris, and Boston.  Al-‘Azm had been invited to San Francisco to commemorate the tenth anniversary of the United Nations but felt snubbed by President Dwight D. Eisenhower.  Instead, al-‘Azm met Soviet foreign minister Vyacheslav Molotov, an encounter captured by a photographer from Life magazine.  Playing the tourist, al-‘Azm ricocheted between destinations on the two coasts by plane and train, seeing only Chicago in the heartland.  From the Empire State Building, al-‘Azm observed how Broadway staggered across Manhattan’s grid like a “drunk,” and in Los Angeles he studied the movie stars’ handprints pressed into the cement outside Grauman’s Chinese Theater.  He marveled that his flight from L.A. to Washington, D.C., which reached 650 kilometers per hour, matched the airspeed record for 1955.  From Washington, he took a “fast train” that delivered a smooth ride without any “vibration [al-ihtizaz]” despite reaching New York in just three and a half hours.  Two years later, al-‘Azm would undertake a similar tour of Soviet Eurasia.  Despite their political differences, these three figures shared the experience of fast movement across the globe.  Speed gave postwar Arab travelers compressed encounters with America and other societies, which they could then compare as alternative models for development.

Twentieth-century speed empowered Arabs to judge other societies comparatively, a prerogative that had previously been claimed by European colonizers and one that would become U.S. cold warriors’ stock-in-trade.  Global travel helped to make Arab and other “third world” elites active participants in conflicts over development, which for them, as much as for the Americans and Soviets, served as a vehicle for achieving power. “Speed,” writes Enda Duffy, “has been the most empowering and excruciating new experience for people everywhere in twentieth-century modernity.”  Not only should speed be regarded as political, Duffy argues, “but speed, it turns out, is politics: the expression of a new order of the organization of global space.” The ubiquity of speed metaphors to represent modernization reflects the shared structuralist concepts that underlay global development debates following World War Two.  Assumptions about the interdependence of social, economic, and political changes, which formed the basis for Keynesian economics and modernization theory, gained currency even among modernizers who did not share American agendas of liberal capitalism and anti-communism. Speed metaphors also served as arguments for the necessity of elite authority over development.  Just as the airplane, train, or automobile operated on the basis of a complex system managed by technical skill, so too did society advance according to a complicated process requiring leadership by those who understood how the parts functioned in relation to the whole.  Anthropologist James C. Scott has observed how reformers attempt to “cash in on the symbolic capital” of the term “streamlining” to evoke the “bureaucratic equivalent of a sleek locomotive or jet.”  Such references to advanced modes of transportation indicate a shared understanding of development as a process of interdependent change and correspond to descriptions of postwar modernizing ideologies as “systems.”

[Excerpted from Envisionining the Arab Future: Modernization in US-Arab Relations, 1945-1967 with author permission (c) 2017.]  

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.