Hisham Bustani, translated by maia tabet, The Monotonous Chaos of Existence (New Texts Out Now)

Hisham Bustani, translated by maia tabet, The Monotonous Chaos of Existence (New Texts Out Now)

Hisham Bustani, translated by maia tabet, The Monotonous Chaos of Existence (New Texts Out Now)

By : Hisham Bustani هشام البستاني

Hisham Bustani, translated by maia tabet, The Monotonous Chaos of Existence (Mason Jar Press, 2022).

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

Hisham Bustani (HB): This question is very hard to answer. For me, literary writing is the outcome of a nagging internal urge to express, respond to, dissect, or create something. This urge is related to the outside world, and my inevitable and inescapable interactions with it. Many writers (when describing the creative process) tend to ignore that basic fact: that writing is a “historical” process, it happens within the confines of the material world, in response to it, and using and manipulating its contents and relations. Writing happens within and as a result of the observable universe, not outside it—irrespective of how surreal or abstract the writing is. 

This book, and much of my writing, is the result of a direct existence in and engagement with a turbulent Arab region—a part of the world that suffers still from the direct impact of colonialism and lies still under the heavy hands of intervention, settler colonialism, and corrupt, externally-supported regimes. 

All these motivations result in an artistic form that is also influenced by quantum physics: concepts and techniques that open up the potentialities and possibilities of a text, “democratizing” it, so to speak, and involving the reader as a coauthor, a cocreator. The book puts these concepts into practice. Firstly, it is a translation, so maia tabet, the translator, “authored” the translated text, as she attempts to reinvent my Arabic writing in another language: English. Secondly, I have opted to include one story in the book in the form of comics instead of actual text; Mahmoud Hafiz Eissa’s visual interpretation of that story, another creation made with a totally different medium, displays—at times—a completely different rendition of the events, diverting from my own original intention. Thirdly, in addition to the main text, I mobilize other elements like footnotes, archival photographs, archival texts, historical references, non-fictional characters, and real events, so that the reader is empowered to experience the subversion of both reality and fiction.

The contents of this book touch on gender roles and societal pressures; identity politics in Jordan and the Arab region; neoliberalization, transformation, and commercialization of urban spaces under the fake banners of cosmopolitanism ...

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

HB: The Monotonous Chaos of Existence is a personal favorite among my publications (if I am allowed to have a preference between my own books!) with its pieces of short fiction verging on poetry. The contents of this book touch on gender roles and societal pressures; identity politics in Jordan and the Arab region; neoliberalization, transformation, and commercialization of urban spaces under the fake banners of cosmopolitanism; the different representations and incarnations of repressive regimes; Palestine and settler colonialism; critique of some contemporary Arab “intellectuals,” slaves to mass media, chained to their dreams of fame, awards, acknowledgement, and their actual subordination to the ruling regimes; and modern-day ecological existential concerns—all with influences from chaos theory, quantum physics, cosmology, and a wide range of arts. 

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

HB: So far, I have (in Arabic) five books of fiction or poetry (or a hybrid format), the more recent of which was released in 2018. Two of those books are currently available in English translation: The Perception of Meaning (Syracuse University Press, 2015, translated by Thoraya El-Rayyes), and The Monotonous Chaos of Existence, just released from Mason Jar Press, and the focus of this interview. English translations of two other books from the remaining three are almost complete, and stories, texts, and poems from those books are widely published in leading journals, such as “Packing for a Trip to the Sea” (translated by Alice Guthrie) in the New England Review; “Flash. Fade.” (translated by Thoraya El-Rayyes) in the Kenyon Review, “Harakiri and Treatise on Passion and Adulation” (translated by Thoraya El-Rayyes) in The Georgia Review, and “Suspended in midair, one-third flexion in the knee joints” (translated by Alice Guthrie) in the Massachusetts Review. The latest of these publications is a piece attempting to translate the word “home” into Arabic. Alice Guthrie has counter-translated the piece into English under the title “Settling”, and it found a home in the latest issue of The Markaz Review. I am currently considering the right publisher for these two books. 

Readers of all these books and works will never fail to notice—despite the huge variation of writing styles, subjects, and techniques—the meshwork that brings together all those “fluctuations” into a “field,” if we were to borrow from the jargon of quantum physics—this field being the complicated web of factors that lead to what I call the dystopian experience of postcolonial modernity in the Arab region.

In contrast with that literary body of work, and yet somehow in continuum with it, is my most recent publication: a scholarly work, in two volumes, of critical postcolonial / decolonial politics, entitled (Dys)Functional Polities: The Limits of Politics in the Postcolonial Arab Region, published in Arabic by the much-respected Arab Institute for Research and Publishing. 

I think both lines of writing inform each other, contribute to each other’s development. While research and scholarly work give me access to a deeper understanding of phenomena and social, political and economic relations, transforming text to a tool of discussion or historical engagement, literature enables me to transform phenomena and relations into a sort of open contemplation, where the dialectics of the lived and the experienced, the real and the imagined, the emotional and the material, become a creative, deeper exploration of our existence. 

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

HB: The Monotonous Chaos of Existence will be interesting to a wide range of readers: it is a work of experimental, artistic writing, intentionally bending genres, fearlessly crossing boundaries, and freely using multiple media, so it will capture the imagination of readers who enjoy literary writing and look forward to being a creative partner in the process of generating meaning(s). In the same notion, it will be interesting to fellow writers of poetry and fiction who want to explore techniques, subjects, forms—the technicalities invested in literary writing. I always find reading the works of other creative writers exceptionally enjoyable and benefitting to my own writing. 

It is also a book in translation, hailing from a marginalized, under-represented language (in relation to the English-language publishing world), and sprouting from a prejudiced culture, so it will be interesting to those who wish to explore writing beyond the US-European centric stereotypes, imagery, and imagination. In addition to that, and considering the art of translation itself, maia did a wonderful, really creative work, so the book will be interesting for translators to look at as well, especially given I consider translation an unofficially recognized literary genre in itself. 

The book will also be interesting to scholars, researchers, teachers, and students of the so-called Middle East, as the book explores a wide range of political, societal issues, and literature has the power to bring forth angles, depths, and perspectives that are difficult to reach or touch otherwise. Having said that, I am very uncomfortable with using literature as a sociological or anthropological guide, an introduction to studying peoples and societies. My hope for this book is that the form of artistic writing I utilize will not just act as a deterrent against such superficial use of literature, but will contribute to the opening of eyes, the expansion of perspectives, and the shattering of stereotypes.

J: What other projects are you working on now? 

HB: Projects are endless, time is limited; that is one of the main frustrations (and motivations) of human existence which keeps me going. I have many projects in progress, and I hope they will all see the light in the coming four years. One is a book of comics based on The Monotonous Chaos of Existence, done in collaboration with Egyptian artist Mahmoud Hafiz Eissa, and is scheduled to be released (I hope) in the 2023 Cairo Book Fair; another is a French translation of my book Preludes to an Inevitable Demise, (brilliantly done by Nada Yafi—check out a sample here) which I hope will be published in France soon.

In Arabic, I am working on a collection of my poetry texts, a book of literary non-fiction, and a monograph on writing as art / the art of writing.

My most recent book, (Dys)Functional Polities: The Limits of Politics in the Postcolonial Arab Region, has just been accepted as the core thesis for a PhD by published work offer that I have received (and appreciatively accepted) from the University of Westminster in London; so, for the remainder of this year, I will be writing the required commentary towards fulfilling the PhD requirements by next January. This commentary (basically a 10,000-word condensation of the book in a thesis format) will form the baseline for translating and publishing the book in English. 

In addition to that, I have other ongoing monthly and annual projects. I curate and edit an annual portfolio of Arabic fiction in translation for the Amherst College-based literary review, The Common. Starting in 2018, we have published portfolios from Jordan, Syria, Sudan, and Morocco. This year, we are featuring Palestinian stories, and for 2023, I will be soliciting work from Kuwait. I also curate a monthly reading / talk with a writer at Fann wa Chai, a gallery space in Amman, Jordan. Both are aimed at featuring artistic and creative writers who are often lost in the midst of the media noise and the mediocrity of awards and official sponsorship.

 

An excerpt from the book (from pp. 75-80)

Solitude

To Ayed Nab 

The stone masonry wall is damp and covered in a musty film of mold. There is a faint, fetid smell. Colored lights rotate continuously, and there are faraway-but-close sounds of car tires, cheap music, and indistinguishable conversation. 

They sit side by side on the sofa, his hand in hers. Skinny and bushy-haired, their drooping eyelids are swollen. They’ve been sitting here, in hibernation mode, for a very long time, covered by a thick coating of dust. In the crannies of their immobile bodies, spiders have woven webs that no breeze disturbs.   

Their chests rise and fall and the quiet sound of their inhalations alone belie the certainty that they are dead. There is not even the flutter of an eyelid: their eyes, permanently open, are fixed on the opposite wall.

All the walls are bare except for the one with the liquid crystal display TV flashing ever-changing pictures: a dubbed Turkish series, nude women cavorting to the tune of some vulgar melody; the Oprah Winfrey show; commercials advertising cooking oil, feminine pads, and a mobile phone; Who’s A Millionaire, a news program whose two relaxed anchors shake their heads in a deliberate show of gravitas; Star Academy; and a Hollywood action film being replayed for the nth time with the obligatory car chases, guns, and “fuck” translated as “damn.” The colors flicker endlessly, mirrored in their sallow eyes.

Complete obscurity abruptly descends following the crackle of an electric short circuit overhead. Before the screen dies, the flickering colored images are momentarily distorted, and as the last one briefly fixes onto their eyes, total darkness envelops the room.  

The silence is brief. 

“Hey. Get up and open the window,” she says. 

“How would I know to do that? I’ve been sitting on this sofa like you ever since I’ve known I was sitting on the sofa watching the window. I only know what you know, we’ve watched it all from this window together. I don’t know how to open or close it, and we’ve never closed the window—it’s always been open. Shouldn’t I know how to close it in order to know how to open it?”

“Didn’t you hear what I said, dammit? Get up and open the window,” she says. 

“I’ve learned so many things from the window. I’ve seen magical worlds and beautiful women, god-humans and machine-humans, massacres and defeats, victories and broken hearts. And sex, oh the sex! Did you see how that girl in the commercial was humping the chocolate bar? Now that’s what I call a commercial! But the window didn’t teach me how to close or open it. It’s always been open. Don’t you think that’s strange?”

“I’m tired of your excuses, you loser. Don’t you understand that we will suffocate and die with the window closed? I’m suffocating right now. Suffocating,” she says. 

“Well, why don’t we try seeing what it’s like to have the window closed just this once? That’s exactly what I’m thinking right now and, to be more precise, I’m wondering why we didn’t try and extend our arms and heads from the window? Why didn’t we call out to one of those people sitting outside or passing by? I could’ve asked one of those women humping on the sofa for a bar of chocolate. I could’ve joined the protest at 10 Downing Street. I could’ve invited that singer to sit with us. Some singer she was! The only thing you could hear was the sound of all that silicone! I could’ve helped the emergency medics with that kid who was riddled with shrapnel holes. What was he screaming? I don’t remember anymore. But we remained silent, just watching. I should’ve poked my head out of the window.” 

“Ohhhh, I’m suffocating here. You asshole, just open the window. You’re jailing me here, killing me.” She was screaming by now, and her screams grew louder and louder until they disappeared up the big opening in the ceiling, reverberated through the large pipes, and then the smaller ones, smaller, and smaller, and smaller…

•••••• 

The glass almost broke after slipping from between the housewife’s soapy fingers as she heard a voice coming up through the sink. “Ohhhh, I’m suffocating here. Open the window.” In his brand new suit and with a laptop in his briefcase, the twenty-something man recently hired by a large financial company lost his footing and almost tripped over the voice coming up the manhole, “You asshole. You’re jailing me here, killing me. Open the window.” And the old man who had popped a Viagra pill and was lathering up with scented soap under the hot shower almost slipped over the voice rising up between his feet, “You’re killing me. Open the window.” 

•••••• 

“Hello, 911? Yes, hello. There’s a voice coming up the sink drain. Yes, yes. Incomprehensible words, something about a closed window...OK. You’re going to take care of it? Thank you very much.”

“Hello, 911? Yes. I was walking in the street and I heard strange voices inside the manhole...Something about suffocation and death and a window...OK, I knew you’d look into it. Have a good day.”

“Hello...I want to report something that happened earlier today. There were strange voices coming up the drain in the shower. A window, and jail, and things I didn’t understand. You say there are other similar reports? It’s not just me hearing those things? And you’re addressing the problem? Oh, OK! You sure move fast. Bye.” 

•••••• 

In the midst of the large valley in the city of hills, the bodies of exhausted foreign workers shuddered as they bore down on the pneumatic drills rebounding against the pressure of their arms. Nearby, a large yellow earth-digger drove its huge metal boring-post into the ground, and bulldozers cleared the accumulated debris.  

The crater was ten meters deep, and the crew sent out by the authorities used special ropes to scale down to the bottom. From there, they followed the city’s massive sewers.

“Drop the hose,” one of them said, speaking into a microphone dangling in front of his mouth, as two others examined a tangled mass of wires. An ear-splitting scream came out of the large opening to the side: “Open the window, you loser...I’m suffocating...I’m going to die.”

Four of the crewmen fixed wooden planks over the opening and crisscrossed them with metal rods. No sooner had the two guys with the wires called out, “Ready now, sir,” than the screaming from below stopped. The faraway-but-close sounds of car tires, cheap music, and indistinguishable conversation rushed in as faint and flickering colored lights filtered through the wooden planks and the metal rods.  

“Start pumping,” said the dangling microphone guy, and everything was drowned in liquid concrete.

 

[Excerpted from The Monotonous Chaos of Existence, by Hisham Bustani, translated from the Arabic by maia tabet. Published by permission and in arrangement with Mason Jar Press. For more information, or to buy this book, click here.]

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.