Irfan Ahmad, Religion as Critique: Islamic Critical Thinking from Mecca to the Marketplace (New Texts Out Now)

Irfan Ahmad, Religion as Critique: Islamic Critical Thinking from Mecca to the Marketplace (New Texts Out Now)

Irfan Ahmad, Religion as Critique: Islamic Critical Thinking from Mecca to the Marketplace (New Texts Out Now)

By : Irfan Ahmad

Irfan Ahmad, Religion as Critique: Islamic Critical Thinking from Mecca to the Marketplace (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 2017 & New Delhi: Oxford University Press, 2018).

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

Irfan Ahmad (IA): Intellectual loneliness!

Events, especially during the teenage years, influence questions one pursues later in life. Growing up in Bihar, India, the Rushdie affair as an issue of freedom of speech, the violent Hindutva “democratic” mobilization to destroy the Babri masjid, celebration of Islamophobic novelist Taslima Nasreen as an icon of reason by the “enlightened” media, and so on, were quite formative. Social-intellectual doxa I was exposed to in India taught me that Muslims clung to their religion that prohibited “reason.” The dominant Western intellectual traditions too upheld this standpoint. In Bihar, learning also meant memorizing quotes of Western philosophers, e.g. Voltaire’s, and dropping them as bombs during conversations.    

In contrast, knowledge I gained at my village madrasa, from the community and my family, particularly my father, was very different. I also read on my own. At home, the image of Islam was one that of heralding freedom and criticality as well as dignity to the downtrodden.  Of course, both images initially worked at the level of generality.

In 2001, I began my doctorate at University of Amsterdam. I started my ethnographic fieldwork on Jamaat-e-Islami in India. It was after the gruesome 9/11 attack and in the shadow of War on Terror (WOT). Calling for Islam’s reformation, Western politicians and intellectuals like Salman Rushdie patronizingly advised Muslims to learn reason and criticism. I found this at a radical variance with what I encountered in the field, where people held that in perpetrating WOT and by bombing the non-West, it was actually the West that had left reason behind.

While some members of Jamaat were its blind defenders, others urged me to meet people critical of Jamaat, even saying that my research would remain incomplete if I did not study literature critiquing Jamaat. I turned this fascinating issue of critique into my postdoctoral research, which this book resulted from. A sense of intellectual loneliness occupied me throughout—a condition arguably not unique. Seldom is a thought lonely, however.           

The book deals with two core issues: reason and critique.

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

IA: The book deals with two core issues: reason and critique. These issues are central to the modern Western knowledge beyond the disciplinary divide. Generally, the Enlightenment in Europe is taken to inaugurate both reason and critique. I offer a critique of such a position that runs from textbooks to handbooks and from restaurants to parliaments. Against the established thoughts, which equate critique and reflexivity with modernity, I take it to the axial age when Moses, Buddha and later Christ and Muhammad ascended as reformer-critics. In Islamic tradition, as enunciated in the Qur’an, critique (naqd) pertains to reform (iṣlāḥ) for the accomplishment of which Allah sent His prophets.

One key strand of literature is anthropology of philosophy/intellect – a field to which Kai Kresse and others have contributed. Of course, anthropology of religion is significant to the book; so are the literatures on Islamic studies/Islam, religious studies, south Asian studies, anthropology of power/political anthropology, modern European thoughts and anthropology of literature. Though many continue to distinguish anthropology from sociology, I do not. The book is thus interdisciplinary; it weaves together anthropology, Islamic studies, philosophy, religion, literature, political theory and south Asian studies to launch and substantiate a new, original thesis. To some, it may appear as “in-disciplinary.” However, it remains the case that I am trained in anthropology/sociology and prefer to call myself a political anthropologist.  

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

IA: My first book, Islamism and Democracy in India, was an ethnographic study of India’s Jamaat-e-Islami Hind. The question it addressed was how Jamaat-e-Islami, formed in colonial India, changed in postcolonial India that was radically different after partition and the creation of Pakistan. It anthropologically accounted for the interface between democratic politics and transformation of ideology within Jamaat.

While mostly remaining with Jamaat as my fieldwork site, Religion as Critique asks different questions. Not only is its canvass much broader, its theoretical horizon is also vastly different. It addresses larger questions about religion and its efficacy as an agent of critique. It takes, inter alia, an anthropology of philosophy approach to raise questions, the salience of which exceeds one given discipline. It is a more explicitly theoretical book. It was also more challenging to write. I planned to finish it in 2012. However, dissatisfied with my knowledge of philosophy, I spent three years in the self-study of philosophy enabling as it did to expand the book’s theoretical vista and articulate anthropologically issues that interested me.

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

IA: As it is a scholarly monograph, I expect the scholarly community at large to pay attention to it; in particular, those in the fields of Islam, anthropology/sociology, religion, south Asia/India, intellectual history, modern European thoughts and literature. As initial reviews indicate, actions-oriented readers may also find parts of the book of interest, especially chapter seven that takes critique from the literary field to social movement and theorizes Ḳhudāī Ḳhidmatgār (God’s Servant), launched by Abdul Ghaffar Khan (d.1988), as a movement of critique. Khan is known popularly, albeit erroneously, as Frontier Gandhi. Some chapters might specifically interest undergraduate and graduate students too.

As for the impact I would like this book to have, beyond the “East-West” divide it should generate much needed discussion about the place and role of religion in the world we live in. Hopefully, the discussion also unleashes fresh thinking in scholarly and non-scholarly worlds. I wrote this book to show conceptual fallacies in the hegemonic Western thoughts—also in circulation in non-West (among Muslims too) and approximating like mass common sense—about religion and Islam. I aim to unsettle the prevalent thoughts and long-held convictions. As Milan Kundera has it, conviction “is a thought that has come to a stop.” My goal is “to set thought moving.” The book not merely critiques existing thoughts, it also ethnographically shows an alternative—a task any critique worthy of its name ought to undertake.     

Historian Fernand Braudel saw more continuity than ruptures in his vision of history. However, he maintained that “to its author, every work seems revolutionary” and that “ideas advance . . . by ruptures.” At times, I feel Braudelian about Religion as Critique.

J: What other projects are you working on now?

IA: Currently, I am working on two book manuscripts (and some journal articles). The first book develops a framework to study contemporary “terrorism” anthropologically: what might an anthropology of terrorism look like? Recognizably, this is a Talal Asadian approach.  At the center of this manuscript, Terrorism in Question, is the question of not who is a terrorist, or when terrorism will end. Following James Baldwin, it instead asks who needs the category of terrorists.  It examines the planetary vulgates of religious or Islamic terrorism, radicalization and the like. It cautions against the tendency to over-religionize terrorism and simultaneously brings forth a dimension of religion, as viewed by “terrorists” themselves, which stands elided from the public. The book is based on discussion with classified terrorists. In India, the word encounter also means extra-judicial killing of people deemed terrorists.  Interestingly, anthropologists call ethnographic fieldwork encounter. The book sheds light on this double encounter and implications it has for anthropology and for the study of terrorism.

The second book is a slim volume that investigates how Indian sociology has theorized Islam and Muslims. It asks if there is a connection between anthropologists-sociologists’ discourse on Islam and the dominant Hindu majoritarian discourse on nation. Against sociology’s self-perception as the most reflexive discipline, it argues how Indian anthropology/sociology has been intertwined with the violence of nationalism and that the cardinal assumptions of colonialism—orientalism being its intellectual arm—continue to inform “post-colonial” anthropology.

J: Can you elaborate the title of the book?

IA: With the onset of modernity and its colonial expansion outside the West, religion acquired a pejorative connotation, particularly among the Westernizing elites. Given the influence of the 1917 Revolution in the third world, Karl Marx’s observation that “the criticism of religion is the premise of all criticism” became famous. Many liberals too readily took to it. Of course, what Marx meant is one thing and what Marxists made of it is quite another. For the latter, religion could only be an object of critique. One may see a similar logic in Walter Benjamin’s (1921) description of “capitalism as religion.” Short and incomplete, clearly there are multiple, if not infinite, readings of Benjamin’s text.

My point is that such renditions viewed religion mostly as an object of critique. Hence, I title the book Religion as Critique to show that religion is equally a source of critique. My contention is about religion in general. I, therefore, discuss, albeit not extensively, the Moses, Ekalavya, Buddha, Christ, and others as critics.

The subtitle exemplifies the general thesis by focusing on Islam. Mecca aims to displace the common views that critique began in Europe. Of course, Immanuel Kant is portrayed as a figure of that critique. Foucault, who critiqued Kant on many points, too held that critique was “born in Europe.” Finally, the marketplace is meant to argue that critique is not the sole preserve of the educated and salaried philosophers. Ordinary people like hawkers in Aligarh where I did my fieldwork also enact critique – an argument chapter seven illustrates.      

 

Excerpt from the Book:

In 2012, journalist-writer Ed West published a blog post in the Telegraph titled “Can Islam Ever Accept Higher Criticism?” … West aimed to show that Islam knows no critique and is unlikely to embrace critique in the future, as the title of his post made amply clear. For West, even a professor like Seyyed Hossein Nasr is threatened by Western-dominated criticism.

Against the conventional wisdom on Islam exemplified by West’s blog post in the Telegraph —and shared widely by most academics, nonacademic intellectuals, and the general public— Religion as Critique: Islamic Critical Thinking from Mecca to the Marketplace demonstrates multifaceted thriving traditions of critique in Islam, laying bare the principles, premises, modes, and forms of critique at work. It discusses believers in Islam as dynamic agents, not mere objects, of critique, for which the standard word in Urdu is tanqīd or naqd. Based on ethnographic fieldwork in India, it foregrounds critique and tradition as subjects of anthropological inquiry in their own right. Since tradition is reducible neither to nationalized territory nor to its official temporality, the book travels across both.

Departing from standard Enlightenment understandings, according to which religions, especially non-Protestant ones, could only be objects of critique, this book theorizes religion as an important agent of critique, viewing Moses, the Buddha, Christ, Muhammad, Abdul Ghaffar Khan, Abul Ala Maududi, and many others as critics par excellence. It offers a different genealogy of critique in Urdu/Islam, transcending as it does ancient Greece and its assumed inheritor, the modern West, as the customary prime loci of critique. Using an anthropology of philosophy approach, it interprets the West’s Enlightenment as a sign of its ethnic identity, thereby calling its universalism into question. My principal contention here is that the Enlightenment —considered the reference point for critique and use of reason—was an ethnic project as Europe/West constituted its identity in the name of reason and universalism against a series of others (internal and external), Islam being one of them. To substantiate this argument, I discuss the German Enlightenment as well as the French Enlightenment. ... I leave the American Enlightenment out because, among other reasons, in it there was “hardly any anti-religious component.”

Engaging with literature on the anthropology of the Enlightenment, the book brings the Western Enlightenment tradition of critique into conversation with Islamic tradition to analyze differences as well as similarities between the two. Beyond perfunctory apologia such as, “Muslims also have a notion of critique like the West has,” it argues for the specificity of Islam and the need for a genuinely democratic dialogue with different traditions. As it examines the contours and parameters of critique, using sources in English, Hindi, Farsi, and Urdu, it expands the scope of critique, hitherto confined to canonical texts and extraordinary individuals, like salaried philosophers, academics, critics, and intellectuals, to the everyday life intertwined with death of ordinary actors such as street vendor, beggars, and illiterate peasants. In short, Religion as Critique brings critique to the academic stage as an ordinary social-cultural practice with an extraordinary salience. Rather than present critique as an isolated, merely mental exercise, it aspires to lay bare the very life critique belongs to and seeks to enunciate. Thinking past the available descriptions of critique as unmasking, disclosing, debunking, and deconstructing, it argues that critique is simultaneously a work of assemblage and disassemblage, with signposts to a world to come. By its very nature, it is neither “neutral” nor “objective” in the sense that these twin words are usually understood or used to claim “impartiality,” even “detachment.” In many ways, critique indeed presupposes some degrees of attachment as well as detachment. As will become evident to readers, the notion of critique it employs is also transformative.

In 2004, Bruno Latour argued that critique had run out of steam due, among other reasons, to theorization by figures such as Jean Baudrillard, who held that “the Twin Towers destroyed themselves under their own weight . . . undermined by the utter nihilism inherent in capitalism itself.” Taking Baudrillard as representing the ruins of critique, Latour issued a call for the renewal of the critical mind by cultivating a “stubbornly realist attitude.” In Latour’s view, Baudrillard and other French critics lacked a realist attitude. In a mode of “reflexivity,” he remarked, “I am ashamed to say that the author was French”. Latour’s take is puzzling. He didn’t show how Baudrillard’s critique was non- or antirealist. Indeed, he didn’t engage with Baudrillard’s critique beyond the bare mention in the lines quoted above. The critique readers are left with is Latour’s expression of shame, which he nationalized rather than rationalized. Parenthetically, it ought to be noted that in contexts including interventions and issues mass advertised as humanitarian, global, and so on, the national and the rational often work as substitutes, at times even as prostitutes. Returning to and in disagreement with Latour’s thesis that critique has run its course, Religion as Critique instead maintains that the kind of critique it aims to enunciate has in fact only begun. Vis-à-vis the subject matter of this book and its theoretical horizon, much of critique has been stymied insofar as it has been largely imitative rather than sufficiently reflective, reproductive rather than transformative. For Jacques Rancière, critique realizes itself when it beckons to a world in the offing.

Religion as Critique aims to contribute, inter alia, to the subfield of anthropology/sociology of philosophy and intellect. If some readers may find it less “ethnographic” (especially in part I), this is because of my realization early on that a meaningful “description” of “data” or “material” must simultaneously describe the very thought and matrix of knowledge behind the description that predescribes (i.e., prescribes) the larger world we inhabit. A description that doesn’t sufficiently describe the condition of its own description to outline another description is itself in need of critical description.

The subject of critique this book tracks is the exposition on Islam by Abul Ala Maududi (1903—79), the founder of Iamaat-e-Islami in colonial India in 1941, and the multifaceted critiques of his exposition by former members…and sympathizers of Jamaat and its student wing, the Student Islamic Organization. On some occasions, I also refer to critique by those not formally connected to Jamaat. However, the bulk of discussion on critique is immanent, by those who were or are connected to Jamaat. In the final chapter I move away from Jamaat to focus on critique as everyday social-cultural practice. There I discuss one of the most salient peace movements of the early twentieth century—namely, Ḳhudāī Ḳhidmatgār [God’s Servant], launched by Khan Abdul Ghaffar Khan (d.1988) as a movement of critique. This chapter also deals with everyday critique outside the domain of social movements. To this end, I use my own ethnographic materials as well as those of others to discuss the salience of proverbs in everyday life. I take these ethnographic encounters and the Ḳhudāī Ḳhidmatgār movement to understand the issue of critique in general.

Religion as Critique doesn’t claim to present the genealogy of critique in Islam. Based on a sustained engagement with the traditions, cultures, politics, and histories of Muslims in the Indian subcontinent — frequently but mistakenly deemed marginal in the study of religion in general and Islam in particular—it offers one path to such a genealogy. The book, however, makes a strong claim that its path of genealogy is novel and original for, to my knowledge, it has not been previously charted out, certainly not in anthropology/sociology or religion/Islamic studies with such a theoretical goal and methodological frame. Unlike the available dominant accounts of critique in Western and Westernizing traditions, the book describes and posits God Himself as the source of critique and the prophets He sent over time as critics par excellence. The mission of the prophets God sent was to enact reform (iṣlāḥ) through critique. With the conclusion of prophecy, the task of critique and reform fell on ‘ulema (scholars), deemed heirs to the prophets. It is within this frame, defying as it does the dualism and separation —silky to some, thorny to others — between the secular and the religious, that any meaningful enterprise of critique ought to be situated. Such a frame, I suggest, is pertinent to studying social formations of the past as well as those of the contemporary world (dis)order of nation-states led by imperial Western plutocracies. The constellation of reform, critique, ‘ulema, and the tradition they critically relate to and shape is surely informed by the pervasive, blood-drenched, war-imbued politics of and among the nation-states. However, it is neither reducible to nor to be subsumed within the gory enthusiasm for ethnifying nationalism, the history of which, despite claims by nationalists that it is ancient, sometimes even timeless, is as young as yesterday. Without fully accounting for this constellation alluded to above, we can’t adequately understand even the widely agreed common minimum notion of critique (tanqīd/naqd) in South Asian Urdu/Islamic tradition —to assess (jāñchnā/parakẖnā) or to distinguish between original and fake, good and bad or not so good.

The genealogy of critique, received wisdom unequivocally maintains, started with Kant. Religion as Critique, in contrast, contends that it began much earlier. …

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.