Claudia Yaghoobi, Transnational Culture in the Iranian Armenian Diaspora (New Texts Out Now)

Claudia Yaghoobi, Transnational Culture in the Iranian Armenian Diaspora (New Texts Out Now)

Claudia Yaghoobi, Transnational Culture in the Iranian Armenian Diaspora (New Texts Out Now)

By : Claudia Yaghoobi

Claudia Yaghoobi, Transnational Culture in the Iranian Armenian Diaspora (Edinburgh University Press, 2023).

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

Claudia Yaghoobi (CY): I started working on Zoya Pirzad’s stories and novel in 2012 and published two articles on her works. But it was not until 2018—when I was invited to present on the contributions of Iranian Armenians to the Iran-Iraq war efforts at the Association of Iranian Studies conference—that, during the preparation of this presentation, I came to realize that there is a noticeable absence of recognition for the Iranian Armenian community’s significant cultural impact on Iran. This experience inspired me to write this book, acknowledging both my Iranian and Armenian heritage. In short, the book aims to shed light on the artistic and literary achievements of Iranian Armenians over the past four decades. To avoid the trap of complicit silence, I navigate the intricate terrain of Armenian contributions to the Iranian nation-state by bringing attention to Iranian Armenian cultural productions.

“Verants’ughi” represents the existence of Iranian Armenian diaspora individuals with the capacity for transformation, moving beyond nationalism into the realm of transnationalism, regardless of its limitations.

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

CY: The topics I address in this book include diaspora, immigration, minoritized populations, transnationalism, and nationalism, among many others. However, while I explore various aspects of Iranian Armenian cultural expressions, I introduce a unique concept specific to the Iranian Armenian diaspora, which I term "verants’ughi" (վերանցուղի)—a transformational passage. I argue that Iranian Armenian authors and artists, carrying the legacy of multiple displacements and a history of genocide, grapple with the complex task of shaping their identity within the context of a dual burden. They simultaneously desire integration into their mainstream host culture while maintaining connections with their homelands (Armenia and Iran).

The term "verants’ughi" (վերանցուղի) is derived from the Armenian phrase "verap’okhakan ants’ughi" (վերափոխական անցուղի), which literally means a transformational passageway. "Verap’okhakan" signifies a metamorphosis that transcends rigid boundaries, involving sudden developmental changes in condition, habits, and appearance. This transformation is an ongoing, repetitive process of growth and improvement. In the diaspora context, "Verap’okhakan" can also imply rebirth and renewal, but it is not a final destination; rather, it includes intermediate stages of growth. The Armenian term "ants’ughi" refers to narrow passageways with walls on both sides, facilitating access between buildings or rooms. "Ants’ughi" allows movement in, out, or through, even along the same route repeatedly, but it does not necessarily lead to a final destination. The enclosed nature of the passageway suggests constriction, but it also provides a means of communication and holds potential for change and possibility.

Combining these two Armenian terms, "verants’ughi" describes the liminal space, the bridge, or the threshold where diaspora Iranian Armenians experience shifts in consciousness, cross borders, and undergo transformations in perspective. For Iranian Armenians, liminality represents a space where identity is fluid, a concept that can be challenging and sometimes traumatic. Nevertheless, it maintains an essence of Armenianness as a potent survival strategy. “Verants’ughi” represents the existence of Iranian Armenian diaspora individuals with the capacity for transformation, moving beyond nationalism into the realm of transnationalism, regardless of its limitations. In this phase, a diasporic individual occupies a liminal space where they have limited social power, remain relatively invisible, and adhere to prescribed social norms. However, they remain open to change, growth, and transformation while preserving essential aspects of their core identity. They repeatedly traverse this pathway, constantly evolving but only partially changing.

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

CY: Throughout my career, I have made several significant contributions one of which has been to challenge the prevailing narratives of Persian-centricity, heterosexism, and ethnocentrism. This book falls into the category of disrupting Persian-centrism. Over time, I have progressively enhanced my capacity to illustrate how various marginalized groups within Iran navigate their positions on the fringes of society and Transnational Culture does this through the Iranian Armenian minoritized community. 

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

CY: To bring this book to fruition, I drew inspiration and guidance from the wisdom of my ancestors throughout my journey; so, first and foremost, my wish for the book is to reach them and for me to have fulfilled my calling and debt to my heritage. The book is a heartfelt endeavor shaped by my own complex awareness, diasporic perspective, and transnational outlook. Being an Armenian who was born and raised in Iran but relocated to the United States in my early thirties, my comprehension of socio-cultural identity extends beyond the confines of nationality and the nation-state. This stems from my own diaspora narrative, which differs significantly from my ancestors' involuntary displacement to Iran and the subsequent pressures of assimilation into a new host culture. I trace my lineage back to the seventeenth-century forced migration of Armenians to New Julfa by Shah Abbas. Historical records reveal that many from this community later resettled in the central province of Arak, Iran. My great-grandparents, grandparents, and parents all hail from Kazaz, Arak in Iran. 

While this book primarily serves as an academic monograph, its content (which includes personal vignettes), the introductory and concluding sections, as well as its language, have been crafted to be accessible and engaging for a broader readership. My hope is that it will readily be integrated into courses at all levels that focus on literature, film, art, diaspora studies, and cultural studies. However, more importantly, my desire for the book is that it transcends the borders of academia and reaches a broader audience interested in the above-mentioned concepts.

J: What other projects are you working on now?

CY: Currently, I am working on a book project which delves into the hidden stories of Iranian Armenian women, a unique group that faces double marginalization both in Iran and the United States. In Iran, the Armenian community is recognized as an ethnic and religious minority, but Armenian women also experience gender-based marginalization, making them marginalized within a marginalized group. When they migrate to the United States, they become part of racially marginalized groups, such as Middle Easterners, transitioning from being ethnic and religious minorities to being categorized as "brown" or "women of color.” For this project, I use a combination of autoethnography, oral history, and archival research to shed light on the lived experiences of Iranian Armenian women in both Iranian and American contexts. My own autoethnographic account traces my personal journey, starting during the pre-Islamic Revolution era and the Iran-Iraq war, as a Christian from a working-class Armenian family in Muslim-majority Iran. I navigated not only the challenges of being an ethno-religious minority but also the complexities of class and gender discrimination in Iran. My move to the United States in 2006 adds another layer to my identity as I embraced the label of a "woman of color" among other "brown" women. However, I go beyond my narrative by conducting oral history interviews with Iranian Armenian women, each with their unique yet relatable experiences. These intimate interviews provide a more comprehensive understanding of the lives of Iranian Armenian women in both nations. The stories are placed within the socio-historical and political context of Iran and the United States, particularly focusing on the transformative events of the 1979 Islamic Revolution and the 1980s Iran-Iraq war, enriching the narratives further.

 

Excerpt from the book (from “Epilogue: Where is home?,” pp. 221-228)

My goal in this epilogue is to transform my painful experiences into something beneficial – for myself and the collective – by reclaiming the pain of negotiating between multiple nations, identities and consciousnesses during times of crisis and sharing it with others to empower them, which is the essence of living in the space of verants’ughi. In this liminal diasporic space, where different perspectives intersect, I reclaim my multiple consciousnesses and refuse to be categorised into conventional identity labels. Through critical thinking and writing, I embed my personal experiences – both mental and somatic – in the larger collective, creating a bridge between my personal struggles and the public.

As I was working on this book, the global COVID-19 pandemic was raging through the entire world; meanwhile, different forms of turmoil occurred in Armenia, Iran and the US – the countries that have shaped my multiple consciousnesses.

In September 2020, the conflict between Armenia and Azerbaijan over Artsakh (Nagorno-Karabakh), an Armenian-controlled enclave, internationally recognised as part of Azerbaijan for three decades, flared up yet again amid the global pandemic of COVID-19. The leaders of the two countries came to ceasefire agreements several times; however, these agreements were breached every single time. This re-ignited a conflict that affected the lives of hundreds of thousands of Armenian and Azerbaijani civilians: many lives were lost, and a large number of Artsakh people were displaced from territories captured by Azerbaijan and then sheltered in Yerevan, Armenia. The rise of COVID-19 cases in Armenia only further exacerbated this perilous situation.

When the conflict began in September 2020, the inflamed and violent rhetoric used by Azerbaijani and Turkish officials about wiping Armenians off the face of the earth brought the collective memory of the 1915 Genocide vividly to mind. The entire Armenian population in the homeland and the diaspora quickly switched to survival mode – the conflict became an existential crisis. …

During this time, I witnessed how the Armenian diaspora community from around the world came together in solidarity to fight yet another war in hopes of holding on to the territory called Artsakh as a continuation of the homeland lost in 1915. But more significantly, we came together in support of an end to this war, in the hope of saving lives. …

In times of crisis, Armenians gravitate toward the Armenian Apostolic Church as a centre to keep them grounded. As I have discussed in this book, the Armenian Apostolic Church has always been one of the main Armenian national identity markers, and it has held the Armenians together for over 2,000 years. At times of conflict and struggle, the church has been a place of not only hope and protection but also collective solidarity. The incident in San Francisco followed another act of vandalism against the Krouzian-Zekarian Vasbouragan Armenian School and its community centre in July 2020. Anti-Armenian and pro-Azerbaijani graffiti were spray-painted on the walls. I have also discussed in this book the significance of the Armenian language and the invention of the Armenian alphabet by Mesrop Mashtots’ as a national identity marker. Hence, this attack on an Armenian educational institution was another blow to the core of Armenian existence. Historically, every time Armenians come under attack, it is Armenian churches and schools that are targeted first. 

Armenians living in the diaspora all around the world similarly came together via the church and Armenian organisations to volunteer and help their fellow Armenians fighting in Artsakh. Many volunteered to help find shelter for the displaced women and children of Artsakh in Yerevan, Armenia. …

As the war came to an end with Armenia losing another piece of land, the struggle for our existence in this world continues. During these few months, I witnessed that the long-term effects of this conflict inspired the younger diasporic Armenian activists, many of them from Southern California, to ensure that Armenia remains safe and that we do not face another blow to our collective existence.

All the while, in the United States, the nation faced a heightened risk of political violence with the looming 2020 general election. In addition to the many hate crimes and killings during the summer of 2020, George Floyd’s murder in police custody in May of that year sparked a massive wave of protest across the country. With the COVID-19 pandemic, a disrupted economy, a health crisis, racial injustice and politically motivated violence, the nation grappled with many overlapping risks. Pursuant to George Floyd’s murder, demonstrations and protests became widespread in the US. Most significant were those organised by the Black Lives Matter movement. The government and media focused on looting and vandalism to illustrate that the protestors instigated violence. While the US government responded violently to these peaceful protests, demonstrations broke out around the world in solidarity with the BLM movement. Many diasporic Armenians came together with BLM in solidarity, realising how the two communities’ historical exposure to genocide and slavery continues to this day. Articles problematised some Armenians’ view of themselves as Caucasians, pointing out that this is not only an illusion but detrimental to the collective. BLM became an inspiration for various nations to address their own racial and ethnic inequities, including in Iran. In the US, the situation deteriorated as protestors took to the street to demonstrate over a number of other issues related directly to the COVID-19 pandemic, such as unemployment, evictions and unsafe working conditions. With two months left before the election, the US grappled with deep divisions over racial inequality, the role of the police and economic hardship exacerbated by an ineffective pandemic response.6 After the elections, the US went through another extreme shock when they witnessed the events of 6 January 2021, propagated by white supremacy.

As if all these conflicts were not enough, turmoil in Iran was heightened, too. In addition to calamities due to COVID-19, in September 2020 authorities executed the Iranian wrestler Navid Afkari, who was arrested during protests against economic and unemployment issues in Shiraz in September 2018. Regarding Afkari’s case, Iranian authorities had obtained from Afkari a confession coerced under torture and had sentenced him to death without a fair trial. After signing multiple petitions and a popular online campaign using the hashtag #Don’tExecute, on 10 July the lawyers representing Afkari announced that the judiciary had halted the execution. Those of us in the diaspora, who had invested time and energy in this matter, felt a ray of hope. However, shockingly, Afkari was then executed on 12 September 2020. Afkari’s execution caused a global outcry and condemnation of the Iranian regime, including individual and national statements. Iranians held vigils in the diaspora around the world, … to commemorate Afkari’s life and condemn the regime’s violations of human rights.

… Very quickly, it became evident to me that what I was working on as a scholarly book was also my lived experience and an ongoing living struggle for diasporic communities such as mine. Lost lands, blurred borders, multiple identities, transnational activism – they have all become my lived day-to-day experiences. One minute I was invested in US anti-racism protests and the imminent elections, the next I was drawn into Armenia’s conflict with Azerbaijan. …Yet, this is not the end of it. The universe is ever-changing, and the ‘pulse of existence’ is transformable – and with the universe, humans change, identities shift, and affiliations become malleable.

Two years later, in October 2022, as my book is in the copy-editing stage, I once again find myself torn between all these conflicts and turmoil. Azerbaijan attacked Armenia once again. A video and images of an Armenian female soldier who was raped and mutilated by Azeri forces after Azerbaijan’s attack on Armenia began circulating on social media. In Iran, protests broke out spontaneously across the country after images appeared on social media of a twenty-two-year-old woman named Mahsa Zhina Amini (#MahsaAmini), unconscious on the hospital bed where she would be declared dead on 16 September, three days after being arrested by a ‘morality guard’. ... In the US, GOP governors are treating migrants as disposables, the supreme court has banned women’s abortion rights (Roe v. Wade), and the primaries are again looming large. This is the everyday life of a transnational individual with three national affiliations but global belonging. Where do I go from here? What do I do? I have been, I am, trying to remain afloat but . . .

… For me, home is within myself as I maintain a core version of my Armenianness and Iranianness within my verants’ughi. I have built a home in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, in the US; yet, when I want to refer to home, I either say Glendale or Tehran – interesting yet strange. Rebuilding this home is a constant endeavour. Removing the old affiliations and creating new inclusive ones, I aim to build bridges to change and transform within my diasporic, transnational, liminal, uncertain and uncomfortable space of verants’ughi.

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.