Marion Holmes Katz, Wives and Work: Islamic Law and Ethics Before Modernity (New Texts Out Now)

Marion Holmes Katz, Wives and Work: Islamic Law and Ethics Before Modernity (New Texts Out Now)

Marion Holmes Katz, Wives and Work: Islamic Law and Ethics Before Modernity (New Texts Out Now)

By : Marion Holmes Katz

Marion Holmes Katz, Wives and Work: Islamic Law and Ethics Before Modernity (Columbia University Press, 2022).

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

Marion Holmes Katz (MHK): Like any research project, this book emerged from a convergence of personal experience and academic engagement. On the one hand, it springs from a long-term fascination with the ways in which work—particularly everyday, mundane work—forms us as gendered and statused beings. From playing with a toy sink, stove, carpet sweeper, and ironing board as a little girl to negotiating household tasks with my spouse and experiencing the gendered nature of “service” burdens as an academic, I have found everyday chores to be a fascinating prism for many of the issues that are most compelling to me. On the other hand, the ambiguous status of wives’ domestic labor in the premodern Islamic tradition—with most jurists denying any obligation for wives to provide domestic labor but abundant evidence suggesting that it was considered religiously virtuous for them to do so—offered a useful entry point for some of the questions I wanted to ask about the historical relationship between fiqh (the discipline of Islamic law) and the various forms of Islamic ethics.

I argue that fiqh texts and ethical works are often doing different work and answering different questions.

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

MHK: The book engages with three different conversations. One was what can broadly be termed American feminist and gender-focused scholarship on Islamic law. As early as the 1980s, figures such as the Lebanese American lawyer and scholar Aziza Al-Hibri emphasized wives’ exemption from domestic labor as a positive and recuperable element of the classical Islamic law of marriage. More recently, Kecia Ali has argued that progressive Muslims should approach such arguments with caution. Focusing on sources from the formative period of Islamic law, she shows that jurists envisioned the marriage contract as involving a sale-like exchange of the husband’s material contributions for the wife’s sexual availability. This model does exclude housework from the wife’s contractual obligations but is difficult to appropriate for a gender-egalitarian project. My book builds on this scholarship but also shows the diversity of Muslim jurists’ argumentation around wives’ domestic labor, which (particularly for periods later than Ali’s source base) explores lines of argumentation that this model might lead us to anticipate. 

The second conversation the book engages is the “ethical turn” in Islamic studies, which has attracted growing attention to the relationship between Islamic law and broader Islamic visions of the good. Within my own scholarly lifetime, the accepted wisdom in the field has shifted from a long-established reluctance to acknowledge Islamic law as an ethical discourse to a widespread identification between fiqh and ethics, at least with regard to the premodern period. In particular, Talal Asad has shaped the conversation by urging us to be attentive to the ways in which Islamic law (or, as he puts it, “law-and-morality”) functions as a vehicle for the cultivation of a virtuous self. However, much of the recent discussion has centered on the genealogies of the relevant Western categories rather than on the concepts at work within premodern Islamic sources. Building on the work of Baber Johansen, who since the 1980s has examined the terminology and assumptions that Hanafi jurists brought to bear on cases where what is technically legal appears to diverge from what is morally good, I seek to tell a richer story about the relationship between the discipline of fiqh and the multiple Islamic ethical discourses with which it was always implicitly or explicitly in dialogue. Rather than seeing individual divergences between fiqh and ethics (in its various forms) as anomalies, I argue that fiqh texts and ethical works are often doing different work and answering different questions.

The final (and far more muted) conversation I wanted to join is about the nature of furu’ texts (compilations of concrete legal rules) and the uses to which they can be put. The book’s source base consists primarily of comprehensive manuals of Islamic law (furu’ al-fiqh) that set forth the legal doctrines of a given school of Islamic law across the entire range of subject matter covered by the Sharia. Despite their voluminous size and recognized importance, until recently they have often been approached more as reference works than as authored texts whose structure and objectives should be placed at the center of one’s inquiry. In the last couple of decades, scholars including Mairaj Syed, Khaled Abou El Fadl, Kecia Ali, Hina Azam, Behnam Sadeghi, and Nurit Tsafrir have offered deep thematic readings of material from furu’ works. In my own study, I similarly try to go beyond extracting individual rules regarding wives’ domestic labor to exploring how they fit into the larger thematic configurations and legal logics of the individual works in question.

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

MHK: This project builds on a long-standing interest in issues of Islamic law and gender, but steps back to ask broader questions. In researching my previous book, which addressed fiqh debates over women’s mosque attendance, I found it difficult to draw connections with the jurists’ broader legal projects. Aside from a directly analogous issue like women’s grave visitation, there were few evident terminological or structural links to other legal issues; the argumentation about women’s mosque attendance was often quite tightly focused on issues such as potential sexual disorder (fitna) resulting from public mixing between the sexes. The legal analysis of wives’ domestic labor, in contrast, is deeply embedded in the jurists’ broader lines of reasoning about (among other things) hierarchy within the household and the labor appropriate to people of different social ranks. This made it a useful prism for questions I had not been able to address in the previous project. 

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

MHK: The core audience would be scholars and students with an interest in the history of Islamic law. For them, I hope it will contribute to the ongoing discussions of the relationship between the Islamic legal project and other forms of Islamic normativity that has been stimulated by scholars such as Talal Asad and the late Shahab Ahmed. I also hope that it may be of interest to some people who are engaged in constructive projects (particularly efforts to reimagine the marriage contract) for which premodern Islamic law can be a resource. Conversations about the structure of the Muslim marriage contract and wives’ entitlement to marital property on the basis of their domestic labor are very much ongoing. Although it is a fairly specialized book, I also made a concerted effort to write it accessibly; I hope it may appeal to some laypeople with an interest in evolving religious models of marriage and the many meanings that have been invested in everyday chores. At the most basic level, I will be happy if the book helps nudge people away from saying things like “In Islam, marriage is a contract” and towards formulations like “In Islam, some aspects of marriage are regulated by a contract.” 

J: What other projects are you working on now?

MHK: I have just embarked on a new project on the ubiquitous but under-studied concept of religious merit (thawab), focusing on debates over the validity and limits of transactions in which merit is transferred like a material asset. By following these conversations into the nineteenth century, I want to engage with the arguments of anthropologists such as Samuli Schielke, Amira Mittermaier, and Nada Moumtaz regarding the evolving role of “calculative logics” in Islamic piety and the emergence of distinct spheres of “religion” and “the economy” in modernity. 

J: Why should modernists (or the wider public) read books about premodern topics? 

MHK: The stories that we tell about premodern contexts are always also about modernity, and the stories we tell about modernity always contain within them stories (accurate or inaccurate) about what came before. Claims about the impact of modernity are often premised on tacit assumptions about a premodern status quo imagined as largely monolithic and stable prior to the advent of colonialism. The content of this supposed premodern synthesis is then often projected in contrast with modern developments rather than reconstructed on the basis of premodern evidence. As scholars such as Ata Anzali and Rushain Abbasi have demonstrated, it is not sufficient to understand that a concept like “religion” or “mysticism” is distinctively modern and Western. Even when our primary objective is to understand modern or Western categories, our understanding will be infinitely enriched by attention to the alternative conceptual configurations accessible through study of the past. In the case of my book, for instance, delving into the multiple frameworks in which wives’ domestic labor has been religiously celebrated over the centuries significantly modulates the common claim that “domesticity” was a European import that transformed Muslim discussions of marriage only from the late nineteenth century.

 

Excerpt from the book (from the Introduction, pp. 12-17) 

It is a central argument of this book that fiqh can best be understood as a single normative Islamic discourse (albeit a very authoritative one) that was always, implicitly or explicitly, in dialogue with other frameworks for the religious guidance of believers. To return to the example of Abū’l-Layth al-Samarqandī, he addresses the norms of marital life not only in his legal works but in his moral-didactic work Tanbīh al-ghāfilīn (“Rousing the Heedless”). In that context, he recounts the story of ʿUmar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb cited above. In Abū’l-Layth’s version, ʿUmar declares that he tolerates his wife’s insolence “because of all of the things I owe to her. The first is that she is a curtain between me and Hellfire; by her my heart is quieted from [longing for] what is forbidden. The second is that she is a treasurer for me; when I leave my home, she guards it for me. The third is that she is a laundress for me; she washes my clothes. The fourth is that she is a wet-nurse for my child. The fifth is that she is a baker and a cook for me.” In this version of the anecdote, it is the fact that the wife’s domestic tasks could be performed for the market (by a laundress, a wet-nurse, or a baker) that underlines her husband’s moral indebtedness to her. Unlike in the legal opinions attributed to Abū’l-Layth, however, what is at stake here is not the wife’s ability to refrain from working or to demand wages for doing so but the spouses’ mutual kindness. According to Abū’l-Layth’s legal doctrine, ʿUmar’s wife presumably could decline to wash, bake or cook for her husband and be awarded domestic help by a judge; by any reasonable standard she is noble (sharīfa). However, what is at stake in the context of this ethical work is not the spouses’ enforceable legal claims but the ideal conduct that ensures their marital harmony. 

[…]

While it focuses primarily on the fiqh discussion of wives’ domestic labor, this study places that discussion within the context of the various ideas about social convention and moral rightness that animated the jurists’ analysis of the marital relationship. It thus deals with multiple, largely autonomous and yet often complementary forms of Islamic normativity. Accordingly, each chapter begins with an account of one of the normative discourses that paralleled and supplemented fiqh. Rather than seeing the diversity of these frameworks as evidence of incoherence, we will see how individual authors could skillfully wield multiple discourses to navigate various concerns about work, gender, and the Islamically good life. The result was not necessarily a seamless whole or an unproblematic synthesis, but a complex negotiation that could strategically highlight different discourses in different contexts. 

Recent work has emphasized the extent to which the moral worlds inhabited by modern Muslims are multiple and fractured, rather than monolithic or homogeneous. This is only an instantiation of what Robert Hefner has termed “the larger ethical plurality that characterizes all human societies”; the need to make this case about Islam in particular reflects the unusually totalistic way in which this tradition has often been approached in the western academy. In a study of the everyday practices of young Muslim men in an Egyptian village, the anthropologist Samuli Schielke emphasizes that for his informants “morality is not a coherent system, but an incoherent and unsystematic conglomerate of different moral registers that exist in parallel and often contradict each other.” His analysis identifies six distinct “moral registers” that may guide their behavioral choices and value judgments: religion; social justice; community and family obligations; good character; romance and love; and self-realization. These registers may stand in tension with each other; for instance, the “ascetic” pious values of chastity and gender segregation may conflict with the ideal of “male virtues based on virility and sexuality.” In a similar vein, Lara Deeb and Mona Harb argue in an ethnographic study of leisure spaces in Beirut that their informants operate under “multiple moral rubrics” that “reflect different sets of ideals and values.” They identify three such rubrics (social, political-sectarian, and religious), while acknowledging that “these categories are constructed and overlap.”

Schielke, Deeb and Harb approach “religion” as a single category sharing a larger moral field with competing values that are implicitly outside of religion. In each case, the “religion” category is implicitly identified primarily with the Sharia. This study, in contrast, approaches fiqh as only one of multiple frameworks within a larger religious field. Because it focuses on normative texts produced by long-deceased authors, this study does not address the issue of “moral subjectivity” foregrounded by Schielke. Rather, it examines how Muslim scholars placed the issue of domestic labor at the intersection of multiple schemas of value comparable to Schielke’s “moral registers” or Deeb and Harb’s “moral rubrics.” Thus, it posits that improvisational maneuvering among concurrent and potentially conflicting normative frameworks is characteristic not only of the everyday practice of ordinary individuals, but of the scholarly projects of some of the great authorities of the Islamic tradition.

In taking this approach, I follow the lead of the late Shahab Ahmed in rejecting the tendency to define Sharia in the sense of “Islamic law” as the single standard of Islamic normativity. In bringing the fiqh discussion of domestic labor into dialog with other Islamic discourses, I follow his insight that “[t]o privilege the law and legal discourse as somehow being the arbiter and determiner of the theoretical object ‘Islam’ is to endorse just one authority claim among many within the human and historical phenomenon of Islam…” However, rather than focusing on what Ahmed labels “the Sufi-philosophical (or philosophical-Sufi) amalgam,” in which an epistemological hierarchy privileging non-discursive forms of knowing synthesizes the various forms of Islamic authority, this study foregrounds the continuing multiplicity and autonomy of the discourses that could be brought to bear on a given issue of importance to Muslims. 

Our exploration of ethical pluralism focuses specifically on the ways in which different ethical frameworks complement or inform legal analyses of the marital relationship. Its specific emphasis on law and on marriage creates resonances with other contexts, including that of the modern United States. Writing about the legal interactions of a group of largely female working-class Americans, Sally Engle Merry argues that “the lower courts contain three analytically distinguishable discourses, only one of which is that of law. One is based primarily on categories and remedies of law, one on the categories and remedies of morality, and one on the categories and remedies of the helping professions. The same discourses exist outside the courts as well.” Perhaps unsurprisingly, because it lies at the intersection of so many moral, social, and material concerns, marriage seems to be particularly subject to this kind of multiple framing. In her influential study Talk of Love, the sociologist Ann Swidler examines how her middle-class white informants draw eclectically on multiple distinct and partially contradictory frameworks in their analysis of marital love, including invocations of “utilitarian individualism and its theory of contract, fundamentalist Christianity and its theory of obedience of divine authority, and the therapeutic ethic with its theory of the authentic, expressive self.” For modern Americans as well as premodern Muslim jurists, there are diverse concurrent models of the marital relationship that may be elicited by different contexts in which they are situationally useful. 

As Zahra Ayubi has recently discussed, “Islamic ethics” is a broad concept that can evoke a number of different forms of “Muslim morals and values”; in the context of pre-modern intellectual history, scholars have located it in multiple scholarly disciplines including “kalam (theology), fiqh (jurisprudence), tasawwuf (mysticism or Sufism), and akhlaq (philosophical ethics).” As Ayubi also notes, Muslim scholars themselves saw these discourses as independent, if complementary; her sources “viewed akhlaq as disciplinarily distinct from the legal rules found in the fiqh genre and the spiritual relationship with the Divine found in Sufism.” For our purposes, the discussion of wives’ domestic labor is embedded in at least four distinguishable (if often overlapping) discourses, which can be somewhat schematically labelled as fiqhzuhd (with later incorporation of the relevant motifs into Sufism), akhlāq, and murūʾa (“manliness” or honor). 

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.