Dounia Mahlouly, Digital Political Cultures in the Middle East since the Arab Uprisings: Online Activism in Egypt, Tunisia and Lebanon (New Texts Out Now)

Dounia Mahlouly, Digital Political Cultures in the Middle East since the Arab Uprisings: Online Activism in Egypt, Tunisia and Lebanon (New Texts Out Now)

Dounia Mahlouly, Digital Political Cultures in the Middle East since the Arab Uprisings: Online Activism in Egypt, Tunisia and Lebanon (New Texts Out Now)

By : Dounia Mahlouly

Dounia Mahlouly, Digital Political Cultures in the Middle East since the Arab Uprisings: Online Activism in Egypt, Tunisia and Lebanon (I. B. Tauris, Bloomsbury Publishing, 2023).

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

Dounia Mahlouly (DM): My PhD thesis, submitted in 2014, explored the evolution of the online debate in post-revolutionary Tunisia and Egypt. This initial work focused on the politization of the local social media sphere during the first electoral campaigns and constitutional referenda following the 2011 uprisings. As part of this project, I had collected fieldwork interviews with local media activists and analyzed insightful cases of pro-revolutionary blogs and e-deliberative platforms administered between 2012 and 2014. My findings eventually revealed that social media were reappropriated to be used as a traditional means of political campaigning during the post-revolutionary transition. As such, it was no longer conducive to grassroot activism and was likely to become disconnected from the political praxis of the streets. At the time, my research contributed to challenge the narrative of “Twitter revolution” and was in line with a postcolonial critique of technological determinism.

The book I recently published incorporates this earlier research into a broader reflection about the evolution of media activism across the region. In the last decade, the challenges faced by independent journalists have become increasingly more complex. As a result, media activists are becoming ever more creative in their application of digital tools, as well as in the way they frame their message. The book specifically focuses on these inventive skills, shifting the focus away from the “hardware” of technology to acknowledge the social creativity of subaltern and informal communication networks.

The book comments on the evolution of digital activism in MENA by drawing on interviews with media activists, bloggers, and civil society actors involved in the independent media sphere.

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

DM: The book comments on the evolution of digital activism in MENA by drawing on interviews with media activists, bloggers, and civil society actors involved in the independent media sphere. Simultaneously, it shows how the political discourse surrounding media activism shifted between the two series of protests that sparked across the region between 2011 and 2019, each referred to as the first and the second waves of the “Arab Spring.” It offers a retrospective analysis by comparing the experiences of media activists in three MENA countries, namely Egypt, Tunisia, and Lebanon. This approach allows me to examine the challenges that independent journalists are facing in different contexts. Simultaneously, it brings me to reflect on the chronology of these events and consider how these two waves of uprisings (2011 and 2019) were each framed and interpreted by foreign analysts.

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

DM: The book expands beyond the scope of my earlier research by exploring the case of Lebanon’s 2022 general election and its implications within the context of pro-revolutionary media activism. This additional case study shows how Lebanese media activists navigated the politization of the social media sphere following the civil movements of 2019.

Conceptually, the book also brings a new perspective to the academic debate on media activism in the 2011 Arab uprisings. I argue that the representation of the “Arab Spring” has evolved, evoking the same hopes and fears as the technological revolution of digital media. This analogy reveals that we have not yet fully demystified the role of digital technologies in civil activism. Whilst social media were initially regarded as conducive to pluralism and freedom of speech in the early 2010s, they are now increasingly viewed through a dystopian lens. Yet these two perspectives are similar in assuming that communication technologies are central to public engagement. 

This transition from digital utopianism to cyber-dystopia mirrors the framing of the “Arab Spring” as well as the way it was reframed and remembered. The Western audience initially received the events of 2011 with romantic hopes, welcoming the engagement of a young and tech-savvy community of activists from the urban middle class, who were viewed as “modernized.” In comparison, the second wave of the Arab Spring—in spite of its significance—aroused little interest, instilling a sense of greater disillusionment for grassroot protests. With the priorities of European policymakers shifting towards global security and regional political stability, the Arab uprisings of 2019 were hardly acknowledged and arguably overlooked by social movement theorists.

Indeed, the uprisings of 2011 initially received a lot of attention from foreign observers, who endorsed the narrative of “Twitter revolution” by emphasizing the use of social media in street mobilizations. In contrast, the 2019-2021 mobilizations that took place in Sudan, Algeria, Lebanon, and Iraq sparked at a time of growing concerns over state-surveillance, disinformation, and declining public trust. Today’s disenchantment with the digital mainstream partly explains why these events did not generate as much international interest as the first wave of the Arab uprisings.

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

DM: The main objective of this book is to show that civil activists and opposition voices constantly reinvent the rules by which media operate to reach their audience and circumvent traditional communication channels. I refer to these skills in the book as the art of “informal communication.” I propose that we can disregard the affordances of a media and its effects in the context of civil activism, by drawing attention to these organic forms of communicative resilience. 

This argument certainly contrasts with today’s conventional wisdom about online public engagement. In recent years, the rise of online populist rhetoric has introduced a greater skepticism about grassroot information channels and their emancipatory potential. However, these concerns are commonly articulated from the vantage point of the Global Northwest—where the political scene is seemingly divided between right-wing conservatives and liberal elites. This Eurocentric perspective has shaped a new political discourse, which calls for tighter media regulations and the restoration of traditional gatekeeping processes over the public sphere. My research shows that this liberal agenda is in fact detrimental to civil activists in the MENA region, because it dismisses the value of informal communication. The book is therefore particularly relevant to anyone interested in challenging the liberal critique of populism from a postcolonial perspective.

J: What other projects are you working on now?

DM: I am currently working on a range of more theoretical academic papers, which examine the concept of “post-truth whiteness” and intend to critique the emerging political discourse on “disinformation.” I find that this concept is particularly useful when it comes to reconsidering the value of grassroot, informal networks of communication in the sphere of activism. My new research also shows how the agenda of countering disinformation is conveniently used to repress media freedom in countries like Egypt.

J: How do you apply the concept of “informal communication” to study civil activism in MENA?

DM: I believe that contemporary media theory has overlooked peripheral communication networks and the role they play in supporting everyday life expressions of political resistance. These practices should be studied as a constitutive part of civil activism because they engage the popular language of the grassroots. Informal networks of communication become particularly creative in a highly repressive political environment and have proved to be particularly resourceful when experimenting with emergent media using innovative art forms and satire as a form of cultural and communicative resilience.

 

Excerpt from the book (from Chapter 1, pp. 1-5)

When I undertook this research in 2012, my objective was to study the evolution of the social media sphere in post-revolutionary Tunisia and Egypt. I examined the online campaigning strategy of those leading political actors, who intended to restore their legitimacy in the aftermath of the 2011 uprisings. This drew my attention to the rapid politization of the social media sphere that became visible over the course of the post-revolutionary transition. I relied on both online and fieldwork ethnographic research to show how digital platforms had benefitted these well-established political groups in the context of presidential and constitutional debates. This approach eventually led me to formulate a structural critique of digital media and demystify the idea that it was instrumental to the civil movements of the revolution. When I completed my initial research in 2014, I concluded that these new communication technologies were just as likely to serve the actors of the counterrevolution. In the following years, this argument was corroborated by a larger body of research that presented a structural critique of digital technologies. Many of these theories in fact recently gained traction by outlining the downside of online political engagement. They indicated that networked activism was not the best way to achieve long-term political change, arguing that opposition voices needed to resort back to well-organized political structures. This idea certainly resonated with many young people, who witnessed how the practice of web activism transitioned from the emergent to the mainstream. It reflected a growing scepticism and a general sense of disenchantment about decentralized channels as well as the informal communication practices of the grassroots. 

Prior to the global pandemic, the world witnessed a wave of civil protests in countries like Chile and India, as well as in Sudan and the city of Hong Kong. However, with the exception of the Black Lives Matter movement, this recent wave of mobilizations generated little interest in grassroot communication networks. That is surprising considering the fact that this topic has been extensively researched in the past. Back in the late 1990s, a number of transnational anti-globalization movements triggered the curiosity of communication scholars, who began to study early forms of web activism. Ten years later, a new wave of protests sparked around the time of the Occupy Wall Street movement. This later case of civil mobilizations raised questions about the role of social media as a logistical tool and a platform for political dissent. In comparison, it appears that the worldwide protests of 2019 did not generate as much interest for the communication tools used by activists and their reach amongst the grassroots. This may be due to the shock of the 2020 pandemic, which created a sense of disconnect with the rest of the world. Or perhaps another possible explanation is that we became more cautious about assuming that grassroots networks can effectively apply these tools to bring progressive change. 

Our experience of communication technologies is indeed not the same today as it was ten years ago. Digital media rapidly expanded into the mainstream, eventually reaching a mass audience. In the last ten years, it has proved to be conducive to populist rhetoric and instrumental to political leaders whose message is designed to appeal to ‘the masses’. In Europe and the United States, the increasing popularity of the far right became visible across both mainstream and encrypted social platforms. This ultimately generated more scepticism with regards to grassroots communication networks. Popular online channels are now viewed as likely to circulate disinformation and conspiracy theories as was the case during the ‘info-demic’ of the Covid-19 crisis. Grassroots audiences are accordingly assumed to be receptive to these types of online messages, which are tailored for the masses. Yet this perspective remains very much centred on the experience of Western neoliberal societies. It specifically pertains to growing concerns over the decline of public trust, which has been described as the crisis of liberal democracy. In the West, this point of view supposes that liberal elites need to restore their legitimacy, in order to save the grassroots in distress from the pernicious influence of evil populists. This argument does not, in other words, attribute much agency and critical thinking to the audience. Instead, it tends to focus on what the progressive wing of the liberal establishment can do to inform the public debate and restore our faith in democracy. Because in the context of the Global North, populism often belongs to a more conservative wing of the political leadership, which deceitfully portrays itself as an alternative to the establishment in claiming to represent the voices of the grassroots. 

Yet in many other parts of the world, ruling conservative elites indulged in a more outward and perhaps less insidious form of populism. Many authoritarian leaders have capitalized on the post-colonial identity crisis to construct a narrative of national (or sectarian) identity. They historically relied on symbolism and populist rhetoric to create a facade of religious or national unity, by imposing themselves as charismatic father figures. In such contexts, the voices of the progressive opposition were often marginalized and limited to the peripheries of the public sphere. The obstacles they face when trying to challenge this form of reactionary populism are therefore significantly different from the concerns of Western liberal elites. In these other political environments, the progressive opposition has no choice but to rely on decentralized communication channels and find creative ways to engage with the grassroots. This approach alternatively starts from the assumption that grassroot audiences are able to exercise agency and informal power. As such, it offers an original angle to rethink the potential of bottom-up communication practices. Most importantly, it allows us to question Eurocentric assumptions about those communication tools that become popular amongst the grassroots. 

One would thus expect that public concerns over the recent rise of populism in the West would raise more awareness about the challenges faced by the progressive youths, who have tried to overthrow their own populist leaders elsewhere in the world. However, the resurgence of Western populism often encourages the liberal establishment to advocate for the recentralization of the public debate. As I will argue, this discourse has been exported elsewhere in the world and weaponized by other governments to justify the ongoing securitization of the online space. Such argument has significant implications for other parts of the world and may indirectly restrict avenues for peripheral communication in the Global South. 

This book precisely addresses this conundrum, by considering how the Arab Spring and the coincidental media revolution of the digital came to inspire conflicting feelings of hope, fear and disillusionment to a Western public. It reflects on the antagonism between the elite and the masses, as well as the process through which a media transitions from the emergent and the mainstream. In doing so, it also asks the questions of who is expected to formulate the message of a revolution and examines how this message can be expressed in the popular language of the grassroots. 

This reflection expands way beyond the scope of my initial study, drawing on ten years of research and interviews with activists and civil society actors. It further investigates the challenges related to the securitization of digital media and re-examines the latest evolution of the online debate in post-revolutionary Tunisia and Egypt. This book specifically reports on the emergence of a new market for media development, which is internationally funded and supported under the banner of ‘countering violent extremism’. It shows how this new market is conditioned by the Eurocentric argument of recentralization and argues that this approach to media development disempowers civil society actors involved in the local independent media sphere. Besides the cases of Tunisia and Egypt, the book also discusses the impact of this security-lens on the 2019 wave of protests that became known as the ‘second wave of the Arab Spring’. In order to introduce this discussion, it lays out the findings of a new research, which explores the most recent case of the Lebanese revolution. This part of my updated research features additional fieldwork interviews with members of the Lebanese pro-revolutionary opposition, which I conducted between the civil mobilizations of 2019 and the parliamentary election of 2022. 

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.