Christopher Harker, Spacing Debt: Obligations, Violence and Endurance in Ramallah, Palestine (New Texts Out Now)

Christopher Harker, Spacing Debt: Obligations, Violence and Endurance in Ramallah, Palestine (New Texts Out Now)

Christopher Harker, Spacing Debt: Obligations, Violence and Endurance in Ramallah, Palestine (New Texts Out Now)

By : Christopher Harker

Christopher Harker, Spacing Debt: Obligations, Violence and Endurance in Ramallah, Palestine (Duke University Press, 2020).

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

Christopher Harker (CH): In 2010 I started a research project that examined the relationship between families and cities. Urban studies has often thought about cities as spaces that (crudely put) destroy family life. My previous research in Palestine suggested this approach was too simplistic, reflecting a narrow range of experiences in Euro-American cities. When we started asking people who lived in Ramallah-Al Bireh [hereafter Ramallah] about the role of their families in migration, urban life, and everyday politics, what we heard instead was a lot of stories about private debt. Unpacking the growth of debt in Palestine since 2007-8 became necessary to understand urban and political change in the West Bank’s central conurbation. Residents were trying to process and understand these changes too. While there were a few academic accounts of post-second intifada political-economic change and Ramallah’s place—both literal and figurative—in such processes, there was nothing about how ordinary people were engaging with such dynamics. I was also dissatisfied with over-deterministic accounts of finance—both in Palestine and elsewhere—that make assumptions about how indebtedness plays out in people’s lives.

This opens up new ways of thinking about debt in relation to the city, the subject, work (both paid and unpaid), and practices of endurance.

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

CH: The book draws on ethnographic research conducted in the Al Bireh neighborhood of Um al Sharayet over a two-year period, particularly repeat interviews with twenty-four families and individuals. I conducted this research with two research assistants, Dareen Sayyad (a former resident of Um al Sharayet) and Reema Shebeitah, who both graduated from the Institute of Women’s Studies at Birzeit University. The detailed, nuanced, and socially grounded data we collected, combined with existing statistical data, enable the book to make three main arguments. 

First, the book approaches debt from a geographical perspective, offering a spatial theorization to complement the temporal and social conceptualizations that underpin most social science research on this topic. This opens up new ways of thinking about debt in relation to the city, the subject, work (both paid and unpaid), and practices of endurance. 

Second, the book seeks to provide an ethnographic guide to the emergence, present organization, and experiences of the debt ecology in Palestine. I introduce the term debt ecology to describe the specific entanglement of spatio-temporal practices that constitute debt. While such entanglements are always dynamic, they can acquire a significant degree of consistency. The book refers to and focuses on the Ramallah debt ecology because that is where debt was centered politically, economically, and socially when the field research was conducted in 2013 to 2015. It is worth noting that this ecology has subsequently expanded across the West Bank. 

Third, the book challenges accounts of finance that focus on financial centers and everyday life in global North—particularly Euro-America. I argue that the Palestinian context teaches scholars working everywhere a great deal about the intersections of finance, social, and political life. In particular, the book explores the complex intersections between social obligations and debts, and the ways in which debt can be a form of slow violence and resonate with the violence of Israeli settler-colonialism, but also capacitate forms of endurance. 

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

CH: There are three long-standing and interconnected interests that this book picks up on and develops. The first relates to the relational times, spaces, and micropolitics of intimate life. My doctoral research examines home, family, and place in Birzeit, a village just north of Ramallah. This thesis contributed to broader arguments about the interweaving of the global and the intimate that many feminist geographers have made in the last two decades. As noted earlier, Spacing Debt began with families, and ended up examining how social obligations enfolded various kinds of debts. I think it is possible to think about debt and obligations as another form of the global and intimate. 

Second, my research has always been driven by a curiosity about the power and agency so-called “ordinary” people exercise. My doctoral research in Palestine took place in the latter years of the second intifada. Most accounts in human geography at this time only told the geopolitical story, sometimes in problematic ways that erased Palestinians living in the Occupied Territories. Living amidst Israeli settler-colonialism is clearly de-capacitating in all sorts of ways, which are well documented by critical social science. However, there are also attenuated forms of agency that have, historically, been less well recognized. In the present this is less of a problem, and now there are some excellent empirical and conceptual considerations of how people get by. This book contributes to such work through the discussion of endurance as a practice of continuing to continue. 

Third, qualitative research enables people’s voices and perspectives to inform theorizing. The practice of such research is often deeply collaborative. I have always strived to co-produce knowledge, and this book draws extensively on the insights of both research participants and also of Dareen and Reema. While my funding did not cover the writing process and thus the book is sole authored, Dareen, Reema, and I produced a much shorter digest of the research for all our participants. We have also co-authored two journal articles. This collaborative approach is a crucial (but certainly not sufficient) step in decolonizing academic practice and knowledge.

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

CH: I hope the book will appeal to many different readers. First, many people who visit Jadaliyya will be interested in my account of recent social, economic, and political transformations connected to finance in Palestine, and how ordinary Palestinians are interpreting and dealing with them. It would be great if this book helps readers to think about this context in more nuanced and heterogeneous ways. Too many deployments of terms like neoliberal capitalism and settler-colonialism identify one aspect of a much more complex social picture and end up offering accounts that in their own way are (unintentionally) enamored with power. These accounts can also be pessimistic and politically debilitating, arguing for heroic forms of resistance that most people can never hope to perform. Tracing the ways people live with debt and other obligations presents a messy and ambivalent picture, but one that is the basis for grounded political struggle.

Second, I hope my account of living with debt and other obligations will be read by social scientists working on these topics everywhere. Being indebted amidst Israeli settler-colonialism is a very specific experience. However, many of the practices through which my interlocutors live with finance resonate with experiences elsewhere and will inform those interested in finance as a lived experience. I love reading accounts of everyday economic life and hope some of my readers will be inspired to write their own, particularly those doing research in the Arab world. We need more ethnographies of finance as lived (and negotiated) experience, and how such experiences articulate with other aspects of social, economic and political life. They are deeply contextual, even as certain ideas and practices like financial inclusion are made to circulate widely and quickly. 

This seems like a good moment to note that if you live in the Americas, you can save 30% when you buy the book from Duke University Press. If you live elsewhere, visit Combined Academic Publishers (discount applied at checkout).

J: What other projects are you working on now? 

CH: I am currently interested in financial inclusion in Palestine. This is largely an elite-led process, steered by the Palestine Monetary Authority, which adopts and adapts globally circulating discourses and puts them to work in the Palestinian context. For those interested, I have a journal article in Geografiska Annaler: Series B, Human Geography, which traces its emergence. In that article, I argue that the financial inclusion process in Palestine enables the endurance of institutions like the PMA in the current post-Oslo malaise. What I hope to do next if I can secure funding is examine financial inclusion from the perspective of non-elites. This would entail tracing financial inclusion as lived experience and then utilizing a collaborative research process with both citizens and key institutions to “improve” this process. This would be done by developing metrics that measure what people actually value, and then trying to embed these metrics institutionally so they serve as targets for financial inclusion. In effect, the research seeks to find out whether the powerful promise of financial inclusion can be queered to improve people’s lives, rather than just serving capital.

I am also leading a collaboration between scholars and municipalities in Lebanon, Jordan, and the United Kingdom to examine municipal finance, debt crises and urban development. We lost funding for this project after the UK government cut its overseas development aid (ODA) budget last year, so more grant applications are necessary. 

Finally, over the last three years I have been working with a community-based debt advice organization in east London called Money Advice + Education to explore how their service capacitates communities rather than just individuals.

 

Excerpt from the book (from Chapter 8: “Dealing with Debt?,” pp. 162 – 165) 

8.1 “It’s not possible to dissolve any more sugar in the tea”

It’s not possible to dissolve any more sugar in the tea.

— Interview with Riyad Abu Shehadeh, 25th May 2014

We are living in a financial crisis, but people continue living their ordinary lives. They are used to it. 

— Interview with Basma, 10th September 2013

When I interviewed Riyad Abu Shehadeh in May 2014, he was Director of the Supervision and Inspection Department at the Palestinian Monetary Authority (PMA). He was responsible for overseeing banks in Palestine. His sugary tea metaphor summarized the Palestinian debt economy at the time we spoke. It conveys the idea that Palestinians could not continue becoming more indebted to banks. There are limits. However, since our interview, the amount of private credit issued by banks in Palestine has continued to grow. Basma’s reflection that people “continue living their ordinary lives” because they are used to “financial crisis” helps us understand why this expansion of debt has continued (cf. Kelly 2008). In Ramallah, financial hardship has become normalized to the point where it is part of ordinary life. This may be true of the Occupied Territories more generally. Numerous economic indicators depict a situation that has barely improved - even during the so-called boom period after the second intifada (PMA 2015, 2016, 2017c) - as the Israeli Occupation continues to de-develop Palestinian economic lives. However, residents endure, drawing on a range of kinship and friendship networks, many of which expand beyond the topographic space of Ramallah itself. As this book has shown, for some endurance is enabled or capacitated by folding debt relations into broader ecologies of obligation. Since 2008, debt from banks has not only become far easier to obtain, but increasingly necessary as land prices have inflated and demand for the trappings of modernity has proliferated (Taraki 2008a).

In the introduction I argued that none of these changes can be adequately understood unless we conceptualize debt spatially. Debt is a topological spatial relation. It binds obligated subjects, sometimes across significant topographic distances, connecting families with banks, relatives, friends, employers and landlords. The resulting geographies stretch well beyond the Ramallah conurbation and even the West Bank in some cases. These topological relations are folded into a series of topographies that includes housing, consumer goods including cars, the physical infrastructure of occupation that marks the borders of Palestinian legislative and political influence (i.e. areas A and B), and communication networks that enable families to support and reproduce themselves without being physically co-present. I conceptualized topological and topographic entanglements that are orientated around debt as ecologies. Debt ecologies are forms of coherence – or practical achievements – that have dynamic, but nevertheless specific temporal durations and spatial extents. This book has tried to illustrate one such coherence, which I call the Ramallah debt ecology, from the perspective of Um al Sharayet’s residents. This debt ecology enfolds different aspects of urban space, including flows of money, cultures and imaginaries. It is co-produced through forms of obligated subjectivity, primarily the family but also friendship relations and “business” relations. It is threaded through forms of work, both paid and unpaid, and the geopolitics of colonial occupation.

A spatial approach significantly extends existing theoretical understandings of debt, which conceive debt through registers of temporality and power. The experiences and descriptions provided by ordinary residents of Um al Sharayet have been crucial in building this approach (cf. Bear 2015; James 2015; Kar 2018). Their insights demand a theoretical frame that can account for how debt is wrapped up in broader ecologies of obligation, the (geo)politics and economics of Israeli colonialism, and socio-cultural dynamics within Palestinian society in the central West Bank after the second intifada. The spatial approach that this book has built is therefore specific to the context through which it was developed. However, it also seeks to be “dislocated” (Roy 2009), speaking to, and with, other ways of thinking about debt elsewhere. This approach does not ignore “boundaries and nationalities” (cf. Lazzarato 2012, 162), while still recognizing the circulation of debt practices and theories beyond specific territories. It is important to state too that the circulation of both practices and theories follow and reproduce conduits of power rooted in deeply inequitable colonial histories and geographies (Chakrabarty 2000; Connell 2007; Comaroff and Comaroff 2012). While arguments about the epistemic and practical legacies of colonialism are now fairly widespread across some parts of the social sciences, this book puts them to work in relation to debt and finance, where postcolonial critique has yet to have a substantive and sustained effect.

A postcolonial critique of finance challenges existing epistemologies that produce debt as an object of knowledge without acknowledging the differences and heterogeneity that emerge if the analysis (and analyst) leaves global financial centers. Existing knowledge formations of debt, finance and economy are still largely grounded in colonial presences that persist, endure, recur and recede from the worlds we differently inhabit (Stoler 2016, 33; Mitchell 2002). Other scholars have begun to outline the sorts of detailed historical work necessary to understand “centers” in this way (Graeber 2011; Kish and Leroy 2015; Bourne et al. 2018). This book focuses on geography. It contributes to decolonizing knowledge about debt by foregrounding different practices, spaces and entanglements beyond EuroAmerica.

However, to think about postcolonizing debt as merely a process of challenging and broadening Eurocentric knowledge formations is inadequate. Such an approach ignores decolonial critique. In an important intervention, Eve Tuck and Wayne Yang (2012) argue that many projects that seek to decolonize something (e.g. school or university curricula, research methods), treat decolonization as a metaphor. This evacuates the term of its radical, critical potential. Following Fanon (2005, 9), they argue that decolonization is first and foremost a struggle by indigenous people for sovereignty and land. A partial conceptualization of decolonization focused only on knowledge production ignores this crucial dimension. This can also re-center the non-native theorist and their conceptual framework, and thus side-line indigenous scholars and scholarship too. One of the ways I have tried to address this concern is through coproducing knowledge with residents of Um al Sharayet, Dareen and Reema my research assistants, and the many other critical friends and conversation partners mentioned in the acknowledgements. The second response is to return this conceptual discussion of decolonization back to the connections between debt and Palestinian life and land amidst Israeli settler-colonialism. Here, life must not be understood as an abstraction or categorical frame, but as fleshy, excessive, and differently inhabited. In the context of this study, this means focusing on how Palestinians living in Ramallah are actually addressing the growth of debt.   

8.2 Debt and Decolonial Struggles in Ramallah 

In Palestine, struggles over and around debt must be, by necessity, de-colonial. However, beyond understandings that debt is a colonial strategy designed to de-capitate Palestinian resistance (Hass 2012; Hatuqa 2013), there are few signs that existing forms of anticolonial resistance are connected to debt relations and struggles. Nevertheless, I think it is possible to identify two links. The first is that the growth of debt can be a form of slow violence (see Chapter Six). It is causing harm, which is hard to capture because it is dispersed throughout everyday life and often displaced outside the topographic boundaries of Ramallah (and sometimes the West Bank). Debt doesn’t block or imprison people as such but creates an impasse in which people can still move without going anywhere in particular. The slow violence of debt is different from many other forms of violence inflicted by the Israeli Occupation, but it is also connected. As I argued in Chapter Two, the emergence of financial debt in the Occupied Territories is intimately entwinned with Israeli colonialism, even if this complex relationship isn’t one that is well described by simple accounts of causation.

Second, as I have argued in Chapter Seven, debt also capacitates forms of endurance that enable residents to stay on the land and craft better lives (even if such lives are never “good” as such, see Berlant 2011). Other forms of socio-economic provisioning would undoubtedly have had more positive outcomes had they been put in place. However, now that debt has become widespread in Palestine, what should be done? Is it possible to accentuate those aspects of debt that capacitate endurance, while downplaying those that cause harm? What combination of transformations and regulations might achieve this? Would it be better to simply pursue the abolition of financial debt entirely?

As noted in Chapter Six, debt is not exterior to social relations, but rather is itself a social relation, characterized by asymmetry. “The productivity of debt can also be understood in terms of a primary relation that puts debtor-creditor relations at the very base of social relations more generally, and hence at the heart of productive associations. This means positing debt as a fundamental social fact, as already there” (Roitman 2003, 212; original emphasis). Therefore, calling for the end of debt is tantamount to calling for the end of sociability. The more pertinent question is how does debt become a mode of affirming and denying particular kinds of sociability (Roitman 2005, 73)?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

J: What other projects are you working on now?

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

Excerpt from the Editor’s Note 

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

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

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

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

[…]

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

[…]

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

[…]

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