Maha A. Ghalwash, State, Peasants and Land in Mid-Nineteenth-Century Egypt (New Texts Out Now)

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Oct 9, 2023 Egypt
Maha A. Ghalwash, State, Peasants and Land in Mid-Nineteenth-Century Egypt (New Texts Out Now)

Maha A. Ghalwash, State, Peasants and Land in Mid-Nineteenth-Century Egypt (New Texts Out Now)

By : Maha A. Ghalwash

Maha A. Ghalwash, State, Peasants and Land in Mid-Nineteenth-Century Egypt (American University in Cairo Press, 2023).

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

Maha A. Ghalwash (MG): This book grew out of several interests: I am generally interested in subaltern groups and their relations with the state; I realized that the literature on nineteenth-century Egypt generally glosses over the mid-century years; and I wanted to develop a study that drew from archival sources.

So with these interests at the forefront of my mind, I began my research at the Egyptian National Archives (Dar al-Wathaʼiq al-Qawmiyyia). I started by examining the Islamic court registers; this preliminary investigation revealed that many peasants approached these courts, thereby bringing a multitude of problems before them, and that one of the most recurring disputes/problems concerned land rights. It is at this point that I decided to develop a study that focuses on peasant land tenure during the mid-nineteenth century.
... state policy targeting the peasant land tenure regime was informed by the dual economic principles of the Ottoman (or traditional) philosophy of statecraft: to maximize state revenue; to protect the economic viability of the producing base.

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

MG: This book focuses on the rural history of Egypt from 1848 to 1863, the mid-nineteenth century years. Specifically, it examines the relationship between the absolutist state and the peasant smallholders, the latter constituting the majority of the subject population, during a period that is often forgotten basically because it falls between the eras of two dazzling rulers—Muhammad Ali Pasha and Khedive Ismail. It draws on a wide array of archival sources housed in Cairo; some are kept in the National Archives, others are in the Ministry of Finance Archives, and some have been rarely examined by other scholars, like the tax reassessment registers (dafatir takmil al-daraʼib). This combination of sources allowed me to shed new light on the state-peasant relationship during the middle of the nineteenth century. On the one hand, it involved specifying state views and perspectives and, on the other hand, highlighting peasants’ voices, views, experiences, and agential power. At this point, it is also necessary to clarify that this book focuses on the Lower Egypt region, where the best agricultural land was to be found and the majority of peasant smallholders lived.

The traditional interpretations of the rural history of nineteenth-century Egypt generally depict an avaricious state that was so indifferent toward peasant well-being that it consistently introduced harsh policies that led to unremitting, widespread peasant impoverishment. This study shows that these ideas do not hold for the mid-nineteenth-century years. It presents an argument that is composed of two points. One, state policy targeting the peasant land tenure regime was informed by the dual economic principles of the Ottoman (or traditional) philosophy of statecraft: to maximize state revenue; to protect the economic viability of the producing base. Two, the workings of the relevant rules and regulations did not produce extensive peasant land loss and impoverishment.

My investigation involved challenging conventional assumptions on a number of crucial issues, such as land legislation, tax impositions, the system of tax collection, the modes of land acquisition, large-scale peasant abandonment of land, the formation of large, privileged estates, distribution of village land, women’s right to inherit, and the nature of peasant political activity. Finally, while my research uncovered material that does not align with certain aspects of the interpretations presented by previous writings on this topic, thereby leading me to develop and present alternative ideas, it confirmed the major ideas specified by writers who had focused on Upper Egypt (most notably Barakat and Abul-Magd). 

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

MG: Prior to writing this book, I had developed three articles that deal with peasant society in nineteenth-century Egypt. The interpretations specified by these articles were incorporated into my book. In the article that focuses on the land-assignment system, I show that both affluent and poor peasants obtained land via this mode of land distribution—not only the affluent, as was previously assumed. This was one of the ideas the book relied on to demonstrate state interest in preserving peasants’ economic viability. 

In another article, I examined peasant petitioning practices and highlighted peasants’ interest in drawing the state into their disputes; here, I argued that the peasants sought to engage with the state, not avoid it. The book also relied on these ideas to examine the nature of peasant political activity during the mid-century. 

The last article addresses female land acquirement in peasant villages; here, I explained that the number of female smallholders remained low during the middle of the century largely because women had accepted and internalized the notion that landholding constituted a male prerogative. This understanding prompted women heirs to relinquish their shares of the family land patrimonies to their brothers in exchange for assistance during crisis times, and to rely on the 1858 law (which granted women their inheritance rights in full) to negotiate better land-for-security exchanges with their brothers. These ideas appear in the last chapter of my book, which focuses on peasant women’s inheritance of land.

Finally, in each of these past writings I relied on more than one kind of archival source. In describing them, I start by specifying the nature of the data to be culled from a source, then point to its limitations, and finally conclude that the reliance on only one type of archival source can lead to the development of distorted interpretations. The book does the same.

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

MG: I believe that readers interested in Middle East history, particularly Egyptian rural history, will find this book interesting and useful. I also hope that readers who focus on other fields— such as peasant studies, subaltern studies, gender studies, and Ottoman rural history—will also explore the book. Finally, I think that both scholars and students who are developing their own writings on related topics will be particularly interested in the examples/data mentioned in the book, as these could be used as evidence for their own interpretations.

I like to think that this book will encourage readers to reconsider certain ideas about nineteenth-century Egypt (particularly Lower Egypt, where the majority of the peasants lived and worked): that peasants viewed the state in negative terms, and only sought to avoid and resist it; that state legislation was developed by the ruling elite without input from the peasants/periphery; and that the absolutist state was indifferent toward the peasantry, and developed polices/regulations that were unremittingly harsh and oppressive. In addition to a re-examination of ideas, I hope that this book will encourage scholars to avoid (as much as is possible) relying on one type of archival source when researching their topics.

J: What other projects are you working on now?

MG: In addition to my work on peasant society in nineteenth-century Egypt, I am also writing/developing several articles that focus on Islamist movements in current times. Regarding present-day Egypt, I am focusing on two topics: Salafi women, and the Salafi Nour party from 2015 to present. My interest in Islamist movements also extends to the Islamic State in Syria and Iraq; and here I am focusing on ISIS’s women members and the nature of their role in the movement during the post-2017 period (when it experienced significant territorial losses.)

At the same time, I have begun to think/read about a book-length project that focuses on citizenship in twentieth-century Egypt.

J: To date, your research has basically focused on topics that deal with state-society relations. Have you considered developing a topic that focuses on high politics?

MG: Yes, I have; I am very interested in examining the June 1967 defeat. On one hand, there are a number of very fine studies on this topic, such as that by Oren (2003). On the other, the Egyptian government has recently de-classified state documents that deal with this crisis, and I believe that examination of this material will yield new insights that will enable us to gain a better understanding of the related events. Of course, a book that relies primarily on this archival material would tell the story from the viewpoint of the Egyptian leadership; nevertheless, I believe that it is a story worth recounting.

 

Excerpt from the book (from the Introduction)

State, Peasants, and Land in Mid-Nineteenth-Century Egypt

In introducing the main ideas of this book, it might be useful to begin with a brief overview of the major political events of the period under study. Egypt’s mid-century period was not a time of dramatic political events. It starts with the ascension of the dour Abbas I to the throne in 1848. Foremost among his concerns was the necessity of slowing the ambitious Western-inspired modernization program developed by his grandfather, Muhammad Ali Pasha, in order to grant the country the opportunity to enjoy a period of much-needed rest and recovery. He proceeded with his retrenchment plans while ignoring the views of the resident European community, thereby earning wide Western condemnation.

Next there was the matter of his tense relationship with his Ottoman overlord. Although Sultan Selim I conquered Egypt in 1517, and thereby turned it into an Ottoman province, local elites managed to establish a level of independence several times during the following two centuries. But the most significant challenge came from Muhammad Ali in the late 1830s, when the pasha fought to secure his dynasty’s rights to the governorship of Egypt. These were finally confirmed by the London Convention of 1840. In this way, Egypt was granted semi-autonomous status vis-à- vis the Ottoman government. This status was tested during the reign of Muhammad Ali’s successor, Abbas I. At this time, the Ottoman sultan’s government, the Sublime Porte, was in the process of implementing its famed Tanzimat reforms across the empire’s domains, which involved specifying new directives for Egypt’s new ruler. He was required to agree to the cancellation of his right to issue the death sentence in his realm and instead refer the relevant cases to Constantinople. Abbas, though, objected strongly, claiming that the implementation of these instructions would undermine his authority. Although viewing himself as a loyal vassal of the Ottoman suzerain, Abbas was nonetheless intent on preserving his autonomy. Realizing that this aim necessitated courting a Western power, he turned to Great Britain. In turn, the British made their support contingent on being granted the concession for the construction of a railway from Alexandria to Cairo. Abbas acceded to their request, and the British oversaw the settlement of the dispute in his favor in 1852.

Abbas’s reign ended two years later on one hot day in July 1854, when he was discovered dead in his palace at Banha, a town in the Delta region, apparently strangled by his slave attendants. At this juncture, his uncle Said Pasha became viceroy of Egypt. The new ruler was the polar opposite of his nephew. Contemporary foreign observers were particularly quick to highlight his appreciation of Western ways and ideas. The contrast between the two rulers can be generally seen in their treatment of the three major political issues of their reigns. First, their modernization programs. While Abbas I shut down many modernization projects in order to grant the country a period of respite, Said Pasha believed it was necessary to accelerate developmental efforts, with his primary focus being the improvement of the country’s infrastructure. He initiated his most dazzling venture in July 1854, when he granted his friend Ferdinand de Lesseps the concession to construct an artificial waterway that would connect the Red Sea and the Mediterranean Sea through the Isthmus of Suez; in this way, launching the Suez Canal project. Second, whereas Abbas Pasha was generally suspicious of foreigners, and therefore disliked and shunned them, Said Pasha, having been educated in France, admired the West and courted foreign approval. Several contemporary foreign observers concluded that Said wanted to introduce Western-inspired reforms in Egypt. Said’s positive relationship with foreign residents and diplomats also had bearing on his plans regarding the Ottoman sultan, the third important political issue of his time. While Abbas had wrangled with the Sublime Porte over his right to issue the death sentence, the new viceroy’s relationship with his suzerain was generally free of thorny disputes. Yet resident British diplomats reported to London that Said Pasha gave serious thought to two matters that would have required unwavering Western support: one, changing the rules of succession to the throne of Egypt from the Ottoman system of primogeniture to the monarchical system, thereby allowing his young son Tusun to succeed him; and two, declaring Egypt’s independence from the Ottoman sultan. Although Said Pasha dwelt on these ideas with his confidants, he refrained from acting on them in a clear and resolute manner.

At this point in our discussion of governmental interests, we must pause to highlight the paramount state concern of the nineteenth century: modernization and development. This was even true for Abbas’s reign; for although he reduced the pace and scope of the state modernization project, he by no means completely abandoned it. This might be attributed to his cognizance of the world around him. In the European regions, the major theme and goal of the nineteenth century was modernization, improvement, and development. In Constantinople, the Sublime Porte acknowledged this reality, and tried to follow suit as best it could. Central to the state modernization efforts in both these contexts was the attempt to subject “agricultural wealth, particularly land, to state regulation.” The same was true for Egypt.

This book seeks to examine the state’s efforts to subject peasant landholders to more rigorous official regulations during the mid-nineteenth-century years, which involves investigating the relevant mid-century policies and laws and then determining their impact on rural society. In researching this project, I found it necessary to rethink three assumptions of the current literature: the state was alienated from and without mercy for the lowly producing groups; the peasants were helpless victims who shunned the state and never thought to engage with it; and the peasantry experienced widespread land dispossession during the middle decades of the nineteenth century. After consulting a wide array of archival sources located in Cairo, many of them hitherto unexamined, I was able to challenge these views. For these sources reveal an absolutist state that displayed concern for the lowly “base” of society; that peasants did exhibit awareness of official policies and the willingness to deal with the state; and that the majority of peasant smallholders retained their lands during the mid-century period, with some of the indigent rural folks even increasing their land possessions. This book develops an argument that is composed of two major points: one, state policies and regulations dealing with peasant lands at mid-century were shaped by the dual economic principles of the Ottoman (or traditional) philosophy of statecraft (that is, maximization of revenues, preservation of the peasants’ economic viability); and two, the workings of these policies did not bring about widespread peasant ruination.

The Institutional Context

The elaboration of the just specified first point of my argument involves the exploration of the institutional context that shaped, regulated, and governed the land-tenure regime during the “middle years” of the nineteenth century: namely, the major land codes, the tax impositions, and the system of tax collection. I start with my findings on the major land laws. Most writings on these laws argue that the state specified stringent land recovery criteria in order to disallow poor original holders from suing for the repossession of their lands, in this way enabling current landholders to retain these lands. This thinking further implies nearly complete governmental disregard for the plight of the impoverished peasants. I challenge this interpretation of the land laws of the mid-century period, and instead show that the officials who wrote the first two land codes of this period (1847 and 1855 codes) were guided in their work by the dual economic principles of the traditional philosophy of statecraft, which involved addressing the plight of the insolvent peasants. Here, I highlight commonly overlooked features of these laws: for example, along with the stringent land recovery criteria, these laws also included provisions that focused on insolvent land claimants who could not recover their original lands, entitling them to a small portion of their original lands or to subsistence-size plots of vacant village land. With the comprehensive 1858 land law, though, we see that official concern for poor village cultivators had diminished considerably. But this was not manifested by the specification of more stringent land recovery rules, as was assumed earlier, but by the stipulation of a fee for the receipt of land assignments (the chief mode of land acquirement during the first half of the nineteenth century, which did not require payment of fees before 1858).

Finally, my research also sheds light on the actual writing of the 1858 law. One of the important assumptions that can be drawn from earlier studies is that the provisions that make up this law were formulated at the center without input from the periphery. My research reveals the opposite. Specifically, it reveals cases where provincial officials and humble peasants voiced concern over problematic regulations and proposed alternative ideas, which the center subsequently accepted and incorporated into the new law. Such willingness to listen to peripheral voices clearly points to the writers’ practical bent: by drawing on ideas proposed by knowledgeable rural folk, they were actually introducing regulations that would work in practice—which in turn would only parlay into more effective state management of the countryside.
Oct 16, 2016 Lebanon
Mandy Turner By :
Mandy Turner

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.