Rana AlMutawa, ““Glitzy” Malls and Coffee Shops: Everyday Places of Belonging and Social Contestation in Dubai” (New Texts Out Now)

Rana AlMutawa, ““Glitzy” Malls and Coffee Shops: Everyday Places of Belonging and Social Contestation in Dubai” (New Texts Out Now)

Rana AlMutawa, ““Glitzy” Malls and Coffee Shops: Everyday Places of Belonging and Social Contestation in Dubai” (New Texts Out Now)

By : Rana AlMutawa

Rana AlMutawa, ““Glitzy” Malls and Coffee Shops: Everyday Places of Belonging and Social Contestation in Dubai,” Arab Studies JournalVol. XXVIII, No. 2 (Fall 2020).

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

Rana AlMutawa (RA): It is not uncommon to find journalistic and academic accounts labelling Gulf cities, particularly their so-called glitzy spaces (such as shopping malls and new developments) as superficial and alienating. Some of these narratives implicitly or explicitly seek to uncover the “real” city that lies beneath the veneer of the spectacle. In doing so, they advance a problematic binary discourse about supposedly “authentic, local” spaces contrasted with alienating, “tourist” spaces. I address the question of who gets included and marginalized from these shopping malls and new developments, while also arguing that these places should not be dismissed as “non-places,” neatly separated from the everyday lives of inhabitants. In this article, I show how my Emirati interlocutors re-appropriate these places as significant cultural sites; create a sense of belonging within them; and negotiate, perform, and challenge social norms in these spaces—while also demonstrating that belonging is often built on exclusions based on race, class, and a variety of other factors. 

It is not only Western academics who use these (implicit or explicit) labels of fake/authentic. Some of these perceptions of authenticity circulate among inhabitants as well, producing essentialized understandings of culture, in addition to delegitimizing other forms of knowledge. At the beginning of my article, I quote Reem al-Kamali, an Emirati journalist who wrote an ode to a neighborhood shopping center in Dubai, which she describes as a “community space” where some Emiratis congregate daily. A few months later, al-Kamali posted a tweet about an Arab researcher who came to the United Arab Emirates to research its society, and who used the mall as a field site. He did not find Emiratis there and decided to quit his research and leave. Al-Kamali criticized him for searching for a culture in a shopping mall, advising that to understand a society and culture, one needs to frequent museums or research centers instead. 

There are many issues to unpack here, such as the implicit assumptions that only citizens can constitute part of the social fabric of a country. Through this lens, globalized places such as shopping malls (or citizens who may appear to be “Westernized”) are often not considered legitimate or “authentic” enough. Al-Kamali, despite writing about the shopping mall as an important social space, also depicted the mall as a culturally irrelevant place when compared to museums and cultural centers, the latter supposedly more legitimate sources of knowledge and culture. Such divisions of fake/authentic are not uncommon, and they may lead us to neglect how certain places are also important sites of belonging, socializing, social contestation, and attachment for many inhabitants. By exploring these realities, I hope to go beyond this overplayed binary.

Recognizing these connections and similarities can allow us to move beyond exceptionalist narratives about these places.

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

RA: There is insightful academic literature on the Gulf that explores discourses of authenticity promoted by the state, and how these discourses circulate among Gulf citizens. Academics have shown how national narratives produce an imaginary of an “authentic” and “purely Arab” citizenry, which results in the dismissal of ethnic diversity among citizens, and in the homogenization of diverse citizen languages, dialects, and dress. However, some academics also engage in discourses of authenticity that create binaries of authentic/fake. In such depictions, the low-income and older spaces of the Gulf cities (and, by extension, the people in them) are implicitly or explicitly delineated as “authentic,” and contrasted with the “glitzy” city, the latter presented as alienating and devoid of cultural and social meanings. This is perhaps an effort to counter state narratives about these cities, with the implicit assumption that top-down developments are “inauthentic” compared to grassroots developments. While giving attention to places (and people) that have been under- (or mis-) represented is very important, these discourses of authenticity lead to the fetishization of some places and to moralizing narratives about others.  

I hope that this type of work becomes part of a growing academic literature on the Gulf that seeks to contest approaches that exceptionalize the Gulf and produce it as completely different from other contexts. For instance, I discuss in my article how some of these malls and new developments are important places for some people to see and be seen by other segments of society. Seeing and being seen often entail some performances of distinction, such as through dress or behavior. These practices and performances are often associated with certain groups, such as wealthy khaleejis, yet they are common almost everywhere, even if they manifest in different ways. As I have argued elsewhere, “creative classes” enjoy going to art galleries and talks, but part of attending these events is the desire to network, to see and be seen by members of the creative community. Academics attend conferences for their content, but also to establish their presence among other academics and to be recognized as part of the academic community. This can also entail performances such as “showing off” one’s knowledge. These performances of distinction that take place in malls or other “glitzy” developments are not specific to the Gulf, nor to certain demographics. Recognizing these connections and similarities can allow us to move beyond exceptionalist narratives about these places. 

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

RA: My recent work explores discourses of authenticity from various angles. In an earlier article, ""The Mall isn't Authentic!": Dubai's Creative Class And The Construction of Social Distinction", I focused on the distinctions that middle-class seekers of “authenticity” construct between themselves and others through their attitudes towards Dubai’s “glitzy” urban spaces, such as the shopping malls and new developments. In that article, I attempted to answer the question of who feels included and who feels excluded by the city’s rapid changes, and who is concerned about the “authenticity” of Dubai’s glitzy spaces. I argued that, in some cases, the quest for authenticity also becomes a way to perform social distinction and to present oneself as more socially and culturally aware than mainstream society. This article connects to my previous work by exploring often dismissed social meanings that take place in these settings.

J: What other projects are you working on now?

RA: I am currently writing my PhD dissertation, which follows similar themes as this paper, and working to produce a book manuscript based on it. 

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

RA: I hope that both academics and non-academics in the Gulf read this article, and that it can lead to more discussions about how we can write about and understand complex places—questions I have been struggling with myself. For instance, some researchers have asked how we can speak about the social meanings and forms of belonging in places like shopping malls, knowing these are neoliberal spaces that foster various forms of inequality. I have asked myself the same question, and I hope this article offers a critical enquiry that investigates some of my middle-class interlocutors’ (and to an extent, my own) experiences of belonging and sense of familiarity with these places, while also demonstrating how these forms of belonging are often created through exclusions—not just in the Gulf and in “glitzy” developments, but elsewhere as well. I hope the article can generate more debate about how to go about understanding and writing about these places without reproducing the trope of inauthentic Gulf cities, reducing the experiences of the individuals who belong to them, or overlooking the exclusions that occur in these places—and in the hierarchies that enable their existence.

J: Which academic conversations and debates about the Gulf have impacted your work?

RA: Natalie Koch’s work on the geopolitics of spectacle has been extremely insightful for me, particularly her exploration of different inhabitants’ attitudes towards their spectacular cities and how they navigate them. Neha Vora’s research on belonging among middle-class Indians in the United Arab Emirates (UAE) has been similarly useful in allowing me to think about how people navigate inclusions and exclusions. Koch’s and Vora’s work has challenged many of the binaries that are used to understand the region, such as dichotomies of belonging/exclusion and liberal/illiberal.  

Similarly, conversations with the following colleagues who have worked on the topic of belonging/exclusion in the Gulf have been essential to my own academic development: Shaundel Nicole Sanchez, whose work navigates national, gendered and religious identities, and confronts binaries of belonging/exclusion—by exploring the experiences of American converts to Islam who moved from the United States to the UAE, Sanchez challenges the idea that people only move from East to West in search of safety; Laure Assaf, who works on the everyday socializing of youth in the UAE, such as the socializing that takes place in shopping malls; Idil Akinci, who explores belonging among Arab non-citizens in Dubai and ethnic diversity among Emiratis; Nadeen Dakkak, who has researched migration literature on the Gulf; and May Al-Dabbagh, whose current research is on experiences of motherhood and the work of serial migrants in Dubai. Al Dabbagh also has focused on the geopolitics of knowledge production, wherein she developed a method called Self Tracing which uses dialogical exchange and critical pedagogy to theorize intersectionality in the Global South. All of these projects have been particularly inspiring to me. 


Excerpt from the article (from pp. 66-69) 

Glitzy places equally afford opportunities to negotiate gender relations. Wynn describes how shopping malls are one of the few places where men and women can meet in Jeddah. Matthews et al argue that “the shopping mall becomes both a site of defiance and of ‘openness and opportunity’, a radical location where young people can attempt to redefine their position in both cultural and geographical space.” I do not want to assign resistance to my interlocutors’ transgressive actions, nor to imply that only acts of resistance are meaningful and worthy of study. Rather, I acknowledge that some use the shopping mall as a venue for acts of defiance, but many others use the mall to act in other, no less meaningful ways.

Hanin, an Arab woman, recounted her memories in the mall as a teenager. In one memory, a security guard caught her smoking in the mall’s staircase, who chased after her and her friend. In another, she had romantic escapades with her first boyfriend in the cinema. Hanin also made use of other luxury places. She and her boyfriend went to walk on the private beaches at the Palm, the famous coastal development. Hanin was not allowed to date, and she knew they would not bump into anyone they knew there. But because they were not residents of the Palm, they had to sneak in, and security guards would occasionally catch and chase them. In a Twitter post, an Arab user recalled similar memories: “Secretly dating in the café that used to be in Debenhams . . . in Deira City Centre where I spent most of my teen age days! Memories.” Of course, many other members of society do not view such actions favorably. A young Emirati Twitter user said: “It’s the first time I like Mercato coz [sic] no locals sitting in a café flirting . . . the mall was almost empty! #thankyouRamadan.”

When families and friends discuss something out of the ordinary that they had observed, or “transgressive” behaviour they came across, they frequently observed the act in a mall, coffee shop, or other glitzy place. These places are venues for people to observe other members of society and engage in cultural negotiations. These discussions are particularly evident on Twitter, Instagram, and Snapchat. Assaf argues that these sort of conflicts, which arise out of encounters with the “other,” are precisely what makes malls public spaces. She gives the example of two Twitter campaigns that Emirati women initiated to advocate that malls enforce more modest dress codes, after seeing Westerner mallgoers dressed in revealing outfits. 

Rather than “non-places” that lack “culture and identity,” malls and other glitzy places are venues in which people create, recreate, and negotiate culture and identity. Glitzy places do not necessarily embody the idealized public square. Nevertheless, they play a role in beginning discussions about culture and identity. Behavior that critics might consider daring or immoral can become commonplace as more individuals practice it in such public places over time. For instance, in previous decades, some would find it controversial if they saw a young woman sitting in a coffee shop either alone or with friends, without her family. Suaad, an Emirati woman in her forties, recalls from her teenage and early adulthood years in Dubai that 

if I was standing alone in front of Wafi [mall], not at a very late hour [laughing]. But if I was like, let's say six o'clock in the evening, and you're not with somebody . . . If people saw you like that, they’ll be like, “Aah, someone saw you in Wafi, you were alone, weren’t you? What were you doing?” So again the culture was . . . like . . . “you're not to be seen.” And that went on for a good [while], like even in the nineties also, you know? 

My Emirati female interlocutors, as well as some of my female Arab and South Asian interlocutors, described not being allowed to go out as teenagers or young women without older family members accompanying them. Although the same rules may still apply for some conservative families today, for the majority it has undoubtedly changed. Suaad was one of several interviewees who perceived these transformed family dynamics through her observations of people’s behavior in malls: 

Like for example now, when you go to Dubai Mall, and it’s nice I've seen it in my daughter’s generation, they’re all with their husbands and kids, whereas in the past, the woman used to go off on her own and the man was sitting in the coffee shop somewhere else. And [the man] was like, “No, don’t come say hello to me, my friends will see you,” or whatever. That’s all changed now. It’s like, my son-in-law’s friend will say hello to him and say hello to my daughter too.

Malls and coffee shops are sites for these cultural negotiations. Women’s presence in these places today is different than it was in previous decades. Similarly, Emirati women went to these glitzy places wearing formerly controversial colored abayas, rather than black abayas, and thereby intentionally or inadvertently challenged dominant dress codes. By wearing colored abayas in public, did these women intend to challenge the status quo? Perhaps some did, but not others. Despite their intentions, some segments of society did view these behaviours as transgressive and debated what they saw.

Similar changes took place elsewhere in the Gulf. For example, a Saudi Twitter user noted: “Go to any mall here [in Saudi] and see the colors of the abayas, five years ago they did not wear colored abayas.” Their phrase “go to any mall here and see” encapsulates how malls are ideal places to observe social norms in a society. These sites become stages for certain encounters to take place, and friends, family, and strangers debate those encounters in everyday conversations and on social media. 

Some individuals use social media simply to express themselves and share their thoughts with a limited audience, and post without an expectation of receiving attention or many “likes.” But for others, such as the Emirati modesty campaigners Assaf discusses, social media is a means to reach large segments of society and effect change. It is not always easy to distinguish when people post on social media simply to express themselves, when they hope to provoke change, or both. But social media is a rich source for examining the observation and negotiation of cultural norms in glitzy places.

In a Twitter post, an influential Emirati woman bemoaned the behavior of Emirati youth who, she says, were sipping their coffees at Mercato Mall’s Starbucks during prayer times. Another Mercato Mall Starbucks customer complained on Twitter of another incident she deemed inappropriate: “You [a woman] sit in Starbucks in Mercato between all these men? Excuse me but you have no shame.” The two Twitter users I quoted here explicitly mention the (same) place where they observed behavior they considered indecent. At Starbucks, they encountered behavior that differed from their usually accepted norms, prompting conversations about social mores. The tweets provide various examples of how glitzy places allow different segments of society to cross each other. Another Twitter user criticized an Emirati model she saw at Mercato for dressing “like she’s English.” Yet another user described what they perceived as indecent behavior in a coffee shop in a shopping area in Jumeirah: “An old woman from a Gulf country, [wearing] abaya and niqab [and smoking] shisha!!!” While the comments appear to be from and about other Emiratis (or khalijis), there are clear differences in the way these individuals negotiate modesty, religion, and gender norms. These privatized spaces allow individuals with different ideals and subjectivities to come across each other. These places reflect evolving socio-spatial dynamics within groups of similar class and ethnic backgrounds and, as Assaf describes, among different groups.

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.