Yasmine Motawy, Silence Between the Waves: Egyptian Children’s Picturebooks and Contemporary Egyptian Society (New Texts Out Now)

Yasmine Motawy, Silence Between the Waves: Egyptian Children’s Picturebooks and Contemporary Egyptian Society (New Texts Out Now)

Yasmine Motawy, Silence Between the Waves: Egyptian Children’s Picturebooks and Contemporary Egyptian Society (New Texts Out Now)

By : Yasmine Motawy

Yasmine Motawy, Silence Between the Waves: Egyptian Children’s Picturebooks and Contemporary Egyptian Society (Dar El Balsam, 2021).

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

Yasmine Motawy (YM): In 2006, two years before I began my doctoral research, children’s literature in the Arab world underwent a serious revival as a result of the convergence of many sociopolitical factors related to publishing, prizing, and educational policy. My soon-to-be doctoral supervisor had also become involved in a new USAID backed “National Book Program for Schools.” This was a large-scale project, the explicit goal of which was “to ensure the next generations of Egyptians [would] become a nation of readers.” From what she was describing, and from what I could see, it was clear that the Egyptian children’s literary scene was experiencing a tipping point after which it would never be the same again, and I threw myself into it, wearing several hats along the way. 

Children’s literature is a young academic field all over the world, but in the Arab world, until very recently, scholarship was rare, without international visibility, and with little impact on book production or the educational and cultural spheres. I was determined to change that.

Since then, my ethos has been to work in two directions: one that faces outwards and writes in English to an international scholarly and practitioner audience, and another that faces inwards towards local outreach, writes in Arabic, addresses practitioners and stakeholders in the field, and seeks to steadily impact policy. 

My scholarly writing has always leaned towards drawing interdisciplinary ties between the ideas presented in children and young adult books and subjects like political agency, civic engagement, self-authorship, the shaping of the modern Muslim child’s identity, books as tools to cognitive development in moments of crisis, and books as a tool for cultural diplomacy. I have also translated about twenty children’s books into and from Arabic and co-authored an encyclopedic entry on the dynamics of the children’s literature ecosystem. 

This book is my largest and most comprehensive work to date, and ties together fourteen years of researching children’s books and media, with a focus on Egypt.

The production of quality children’s literature... can promote literacy, be a vehicle for socialization, and has great potential for use in equipping children with twenty-first-century critical skills.

J: What made you write this book? 

YM: In 2008, I received an Andrew Mellon postdoctoral grant through the American University in Cairo (AUC) HUSSLabs that finally enabled me to sit down and write this book. I had known for a long time that I wanted to add an academic and accessible voice to this marginalized—but burgeoning—area of research, where literature was sporadic, uneven, and often akin to journalistic reviews. 

I partially wrote the book in the belief that if this knowledge were organized, produced in Arabic within a clear academic framework, and directed effectively, it would be crucial in informing publishing, book mediating, funding, prizing, academic, and public policy practices in Egypt and the Arab world at this time of social and educational transitions. 

Today, many Arab governments and publishers are working together and separately to revamp reading curricula, and address challenges around Arabic language education and heritage preservation. The production of quality children’s literature, informed by a strong critical tradition, can promote literacy, be a vehicle for socialization, and has great potential for use in equipping children with twenty-first-century critical skills. Children’s literature is also a field where women have been historically at the helm and it remains an area that empowers and enables women in professional, creative, and policy-making capacities.

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

YM: Children’s books, regardless of their artistic value, are primarily tools for socialization. Therefore looking at the children’s books that are being produced at any given time and place allows us to see how state and private book producers hope to extend their hold over the future. They do this by creating content that manages the ways in which children’s drives to transform their world are channeled, as well as the very way in which they imagine utopian worlds at all. 

The book analyzes key ideological trends in what I name the “new wave of Egyptian children’s picturebooks” produced between the years 2000 and 2020. In it, I ask the question: what do these books reveal about our priorities as a society and how we view childhood, both as a social construct and as our bid into the future? 

The first two chapters target the reader interested in Egyptian current affairs in general; the first chapter documents, historicizes, and contextualizes this shifting moment in children’s book production, embedding it within a discussion of other key sociopolitical changes in Egypt. It also seeks to understand the reader of new wave picturebooks by describing the features of Egypt’s generation Z. This is a cohort that has been defined both by having been raised by millennials and members of generation X, but also during the 2011 revolution and pandemic control measures. The second chapter gives a sociopolitical and historical overview of the publishing ecosystem in Egypt until the present day.

In the three analytical chapters that follow, I make the argument that book producers—defined as publishers, authors, and illustrators combined—valorize certain ideological modes of interacting within domestic spheres, capitalist spaces, modes of enacting femininity, and modes of civic engagement and utopian imagining. 

I open and close my book with the argument that there is no alternative to being trained in the art of listening to young people today, especially in attempting to understand the implications of the intersection of the virtual world with reality for these digital natives. I also advocate for more participatory research in academia. In Egypt, that would mean research that cuts across socioeconomic classes, reading contexts (libraries, schools, and bookstores), research outside of major urban centers, and research on digital reading. 

J: Why does your book only cover picturebooks?

YM: I write about young adult literature elsewhere, as there are so many middle reader and young adult books coming out of the Arab world at the moment.

Only picturebooks are selected for this particular exploration because picturebooks are presented to the child at a cognitively and psychologically opportune time, and are therefore highly influential. Picturebooks are written, purchased, and largely read to the child by adults. Their producers deliberately cater to the nurturing parents, teachers, and librarians who subscribe to the socialization and developmental benefits of certain books, rather than the child reader. Producers cater to older readers significantly differently, seeking to hold onto them as readers and pulling them away from other competing media. This makes picturebooks highly ideological cultural artifacts that are ideal for this kind of analysis. 

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

YM: I wrote the book with a dual audience in mind: those working on Arabic children’s books, in the areas of education, book mediation, curriculum development, reading initiatives, and publishing, as well as engaged parents. The book is also geared to those who are interested in the humanities and wish to learn about contemporary Egypt through the multidisciplinary lens of current affairs, culture, and politics. 

The reactions of readers from outside of the field have consistently been, “I have never thought about children’s literature like that, I never realized that so much went on behind the pages.” This by itself is great; that the general reader finds reason to take children’s literature seriously and see how children’s books will always be a unique window into who we are. 

As an educator, I wanted the book to be highly amenable to classroom use as well; it assumes no prior knowledge in the reader, and synthesizes social science, current events, and literary criticism—making it conducive to interdisciplinary conversations amongst students.

More generally, I hope that the book invites reflections on the aesthetic sense we are building as we produce picturebooks, as these are often the first art forms children experience in their lives. I also envision that the book will cause readers to think about what we are really saying to children when we tell stories, and who the child we are addressing really is. The hope is that this attentiveness will result in higher quality books and more conscious book production processes in the Arab world. On a policy level, I imagine the second order effects of this approach to children’s book production could be more funding directed to supporting books, so that they may stay relevant in the digital age, and to supporting capacity building at all nodes of the Arabic children’s book production ecosystem.

 

Excerpt from the book (from Chapter III: “The Institution Socializes,” pp. 91-93) 

No matter how well the study of children’s books has established itself as a vibrant newcomer to the field of literature, and children’s books show themselves to be worth studying for their literary and aesthetic qualities, they are still at the end of the day a prime educational tool. Books for small children socialize them into their roles, social customs and expectations, delineate or highlight features of intergenerational and social relations, the nature of their society and its norms, and therefore foster the values and qualities that are deemed valuable. In short, they civilize the child into becoming a citizen compatible with the social context within which they are expected to operate. 

Deliberate colonial educational policies offer great insights into the kinds of concerns that authoritative powers have in trying to control their interests. So in 1885, the British occupation government focused greatly on Egyptian schoolchildren and expanded the curriculum to include “durus al-ashya’, or “object lessons” which included such topics as “keeping one’s clothes clean, the use of soap, the house and all its rooms, and how to best build a house. It also included adab and tarbiyya, which consisted of lessons in basic manners, hygiene, health, clothing, and behavior in and outside the home”. 

Because we would like to think that it is possible to write a children’s book that is free from any educational or socializing content, we value children’s books that are instructive wolves, disguised in entertaining or “imagination-expanding” sheep’s clothing, dismissing those works where the didacticism is apparent. 

On the ground, this has been yet another trend inspired by the dichotomy created by the discourse accompanying the multiplication of schools offering foreign diplomas to cater to Egyptians returning to Egypt following the 1991 Gulf war. This dichotomy was articulated in the general attitudes and beliefs held by socially mobile parents that pitted the novel international school system against that of the national curriculum. The national curriculum was discussed in negative terms in contrast with the increasingly sought after foreign certificates; memorization-based learning vs. comprehension-based learning, didactic and socializing texts vs. texts that promote critical thinking and imagination, condescension towards children vs. respect for children’s intelligence, rigorous vs. creative forms and structures amongst other. 

I do not purport to make a judgment on the extent of the truth of this dichotomy, but like all black and white propositions, this discourse seems reductive and dangerous. For instance, picturebook series Farhana by Rania Amin, that ran from 2003 to 2010, and Fizo by Walid Taher that began in 2004 are celebrated as an imaginative break from the directly instructional books that depict everyday domestic life, and they certainly did breathe new life into the field, however they are a prime example of cognitive socialization. The everyday adventures of their protagonists offer the reader,  not only the acceptable psychological responses and modes of expressing their feelings, but even suggest how to feel, by giving children a vocabulary to describe undesirable feelings, thus preventing them from becoming or remaining intimidating unknown entities. The stories also sometimes enact noble feelings that the child is given a window onto and becomes encouraged to try out for him/herself.  Books that emotionally socialize have been sought after extensively through translation as well as through original writing. Some notable examples are Virginia Ironside’s 1994 A Huge Bag of Worries translated and published by Dar Al-Balsam in 2005, Sohair Abaza’s 2020 Ash’ur wa ka’an (I feel as though..), as well as the following book series published by Dar Alfarouk: “Alirada” (determination), “Al silsila alalamiya lililaj bilqisa” (the international bibliotherapy series), “kayfa ata’amal ma’a” (how I deal with), and the “ma ma’na?” (what does it mean to?) series by Dar Alshorouk. The books of Aisha Rafea, Abir Mohamed Anwar, and Amani Elashmawi that are published by Nahdet Misr, as well as some of Amal Farah’s books published by Dar Shagara are also popular in this category. Certainly no newcomer to the scene, Aisha Rafea, spiritual wellness guru, and children’s author, had her Guide for Parents and Educators to Stories for 4th to 5th Graders republished by GEBO in 2018. This guidebook to the series “Be Yourself. Achieve Your Goals'' is part of a moral education program by The Human Foundation, which she founded. The series aims to develop morals and connect with children around nine values she identifies as necessary for the child to have a positive image of himself and deal with his feelings (7,9 رافع). Another type of celebrated book, is that which capitalizes on the shared experience of reading the picturebook to socialize the parent as well, such as the 2018 Esma’ny (listen to me) by Amin, illustrated by Taher, that draws the attention of adults to the sense of abandonment, distracted parenting-mostly through preoccupation with cell phones- inflicts on small children. These attempts to foist positive models and texts onto children, assume that behavior and identity are the result of negotiations with various cultural texts, and as such expect that by replacing negative texts with more positive ones, they can transform social behavior altogether (Coats “Teaching the Conflict” 19-21). 

Socialization through enacted scripts created by those with the ideological upper hand are not just prevalent in children’s books, but also in the influential medium of family television. Anthropologist, Lila Abu-Lughod, states that, “[television series] are both representative of the values of an influential segment of the middle class and enough subject to censorship to be in line with basic assumptions about social mobility (244).” A good example of this is the family drama Abul arousa (father of the bride), which aired with huge success on DMC, a television station aligned with State policies, and was hailed as promoting Egyptian family values, making headlines.

 

افتتاحية "الفصل الثالث: هو ده النظام: المؤسسة والتربية المجتمعية" (ص.ص. ٩١-٩٣) 

بصرف النظر عن المكانة التي اكتسبتها دراسة كتب الأطفال في مجال الأدب وعن أهمية دراسة خصائصها الأدبية والجمالية، ما هذه الكتب في نهاية المطاف إلا أدوات تعليمية أساسية. الكتب الموجهة إلى الأطفال الصغار من شأنها تهيئتهم لأدوارهم الاجتماعية وتوقعات المجتمع منهم، كما ترسم سمات العلاقات فيما بين الأجيال والعلاقات الاجتماعية عامةً، وتعكس طبيعة المجتمع والقواعد الحاكمة له، وبذلك فهي تعزز القيم والصفات التي تُعتبر ذات قيمة في هذا المجتمع. وباختصار تُعد هذه الكتب الطفل ليصبح مواطناً متوافقاً مع سياقه الاجتماعي الذي يُتوقع منه الالتزام به والازدهار داخل إطاره.

تحليل السياسات التعليمية الاستعمارية المتعمدة توفر رؤى ثاقبة حول أنواع المخاوف التي كانت تساور القوى الحاكمة في محاولة السيطرة على مصالحهم. لذلك، في عام 1885، ركزت حكومة الاحتلال البريطاني على تلاميذ المدارس المصريين ووسعت المناهج الدراسية لتشمل: "دروس الأشياء، التي اشتملت على مواضيع مثل الحفاظ على الملابس نظيفة واستخدام الصابون، ومعرفة المنزل وجميع غرفه، وكيفية بناء منزل أفضل. كما تضمنت دروس الأدب والتربية، التي ضمت السلوكيات الأساسية، والنظافة ، والصحة، و كيفية الملبس، والسلوك داخل المنزل وخارجه" (Pollard 119). 

نقدر - بوصفنا عاملين بالمجال- كتب الأطفال ذات المغزى التربوي المغلفة بالترفيه أو التي تفتح أفق الخيال أمام الطفل، ونستبعد كتب الأطفال التي تظهر فيها النزعة التعليمية المباشرة. ربما يكون ذلك لأننا نود أن نعتقد أنه من الممكن تأليف كتب للأطفال خالية من المغزى التربوي. هذا التمني المستحيل ربما استُلهم من الازدواجية التي أنتجها الخطاب المصاحب لازدياد إنشاء المدارس التي تقدم شهادات أجنبية في أوائل التسعينيات. وظهرت هذه الازدواجية في الخطاب العام وفي الاعتقادات التي اعتنقها الآباء الذين صعدوا السلم الاجتماعي، عند مقارنتهم بين النظم التعليمية الدولية والمناهج الوزارية الوطنية. وقد نوقش المنهج الوزاري في ضوء سلبي عند مقارنته بالشهادات الأجنبية التي كان نجمها يصعد حينئذ، وعقدت نقاشات حول تضادات موازية كمبدأ الحفظ مقارنة بالفهم، والنصوص التوجيهية مقارنة بالنصوص التي تعزز التفكير النقدي والخيال، والنصوص التي تستهين بعقلية الأطفال مقارنة بالنصوص التي تحترم ذكائهم وقدرتهم الإبداعية. ولا أنوي هنا تقديم حكم على مدى صحة أو دقة هذه الازدواجية، ولكن هذا الخطاب شأنه شأن جميع التضادات السطحية والخطيرة التي تنكر إمكانية تداخل الفئات والاتجاهات. فعلى سبيل المثال، يحتفي النقاد والآباء بسلسلة كتب فرحانة من تأليف رانيا أمين وسلسلة كتب فيزو من تأليف وليد طاهر، باعتبارها أعمال بديعة تكسر رتابة الكتب التعليمية المباشرة التي توجه الطفل بافعل ولا تفعل؛ حيث تصور هذه الكتب الحياة المنزلية اليومية. وقد أتت بالفعل بروح جديدة في المجال، ومع ذلك فإنها مثال واقعي على التربية العاطفية، حيث تقدم للقارئ أمثلة لردود الفعل المقبولة من حيث التوازن النفسي وسبل التعبير عن المشاعر، بل إنها تذهب إلى أن تقترح على الطفل المشاعر الصحية التي عليه أن يتحلى بها في مختلف المواقف، من خلال منحه المفردات التي يحتاجها حتى يصف بها مشاعره السلبية؛ حتى لا تدفن هذه المشاعر وتضخم بفعل تخبئتها في ظلال الخوف من المجهول. وفي بعض الأحيان تصور هذه الكتب مشاعر صادقة تفتح نافذة يطل منها الطفل عليها، بل وتشجعه على أن يجربها بنفسه. والتربية من خلال سيناريو مصور من إعداد الشخص الذي يمتلك اليد العليا أيديولوجياً لا تشيع في كتب الأطفال وحدها، ولكنها تنتشر من خلال كل المواد الإعلامية الأسرية.

[…]

إن التربية الاجتماعية من خلال النصوص التي تنتجها أصحاب اليد الأيديولوجية العليا ليست منتشرة فقط في كتب الأطفال، ولكن أيضًا في المنصة الإعلامية الأكثر تأثيراً في مصر، البرامج العائلية التلفزيونية. تقول عالمة الأنثروبولوجيا، ليلى أبو اللغد أن "[المسلسل التلفزيوني] يمثل قيم شريحة مؤثرة من الطبقة الوسطى ويخضع للرقابة ليتماشى مع الافتراضات الأساسية حول الحراك الاجتماعي" (244 Abu-Lughod). مثال جيد على ذلك هو مسلسل الدراما العائلية أبو العروسة. حقق المسلسل العائلي أبو العروسة الذي أذاعته قناة دي. إم. سي نجاحاً ساحقاً، واعتُبر مسلسلا يروج لقيم الأسرة المصرية…

 

Book is currently available in Arabic, published by Al-Balsam Publishing House. English edition forthcoming.

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.