For many City Planners in Los Angeles, "new urbanism" trends in transportation planning have focused on the city center, Downtown LA, which currently anchors the majority of lines of the expanding metro rail system. When people talk about a "third-wave" Los Angeles characterized by density, compactness and extensive public transit and walking options, they usually point to the revival of Downtown as the sign of the future. However, transit planners such as Michael Rhodes and Samuel Krueger have pointed out that Downtown is not Los Angeles' singular focal point of urban density (in the way that, say, Manhattan is to New York) but rather comprises one of a series of "dense" core-like areas, most concentrated in a line extending from Fairfax to the ocean. Of these core areas, the congested, centrally-located and compact entertainment West Hollywood provides even greater prospects for rapid transit development than downtown.
For one thing, West Hollywood's central location (conveniently surrounded by the commercial hubs of Beverly Hills and Century City (to the West), Hollywood (to the northeast) and Mid-Wilshire (to the east)), along with its legendary nightlife and dining destinations draw cars from across Greater Los Angeles onto its streets. With no freeway in the immediate vicinity and few wide streets running through the neighborhood, congestion constantly plagues West Hollywood even late at night.
Compounding West Hollywood traffic woes is the city's high commercial and residential density. West Hollywood is not only a nightlife hub (containing both the LGBT Boys Town" and the "Sunset Strip") and commercial center (with major design and entertainment industries centered in the city) but the most densely-populated independent city in Los Angeles County. Not only are all the major thoroughfares filled with cars in transit, but swamped along the curbsides. In the "Boys Town" district (near where I live), pedestrians not only crowd the sidewalks at night but, per East Coast mores, frequently wander into the street itself (especially as the night drags on). Indeed, so many pedestrian fatalities have occured on the stretch of Santa Monica in Boys Town, that the City of West Hollywood has gone out of its way to install signs and flashing signals warning cars to yield to pedestrians by crosswalks not located by traffic lights. This goes to show how West Hollywood has long been a leader in efforts at making things easier for non-automative forms of transport and has result, been ranked as one of the most walkable cities in California. (Yes, above San Francisco)
Unfortunately, despite the congestion and pedestrian fatalities, a proposed line to West Hollywood remains off Metro's list of short-term expansion projects. This despite the city's proposal to plunk down money and even lobbyists to get a line through the city. If Metro were serious about expanding rail rather than winning votes from the San Gabriel Valley, they would construct a line towards West Hollywood as part of the short-term, rather than the contingent plan.
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Sunday, March 1, 2015
The Olive Tree Initiative, Israel-Palestine and the Conflict of Nationalisms
So at last, I get around to my grand "reflection" on the trip I took with the Olive Tree Initiative (no, the last article does not count).
When in the process of going through my notes from the trip, my thoughts kept drifting back to the Spring Quarter of my Freshman year of college, when I took a course on the Israel-Palestine conflict with Professor James Gelvin. Gelvin is a truly incredible teacher, delivering presentations with the perfect mixture of clarity and wit. What brings me to remember his course, in recent days, however, is Gelvin's theoretical characterization of the conflcit as a "conflict of nationalisms."
In the course of my travels throughout Israel-Palestine, I could not help be struck by the prominence of historical narratives in determining present political actions.
By history, I do not refer to the past as objective actuality, but rather as perceived narrative, that varies according to one's personal/life experiences. constructed as so much as the conceptualization .
When our group visited the infamous Hebron settlement, the settlement's spokesperson, David Wilder, justified the imposition of the settlement, as well as the accompanying military regime, on the city on the basis that Jews "had lived there continuously" from Biblical times prior to the founding of the state of Israel (and because Judaism's third holiest site, the Cave of the Patriarchs, lay in the city).
Palestinian entreprenuer Mubib al-Masri, as if to counter Wilder's logic of causation, off-handedly remarked (when showing , when showing off the ruins of a Byzantine church that archaeologists had excavated beneath his house) that "it was lucky that we didn't find any synagogue...for then the settlers would come..." A full-fledged Palestinian national "counter-narrative" could be witnessed (amongst other places) on a historical timeline at the Jenin Municipal museum, which omitted any mention of Hebrew or Jewish events occurring in the region. the local museum at Jenin, history al-Masri declared that he's "glad a synagogue was not discovered on the site, for it would lend legitimacy to Jewish nationalists (who would perceivedly try to displace him).
In a world of nation-states, national identities and narratives (such as the Zionist and the Palestinians) can seem to be primordial (especially when they draw legitimacy from a text as ancient as the Bible). To the contrary, however, most historians and social scientists concur that nationalism can be traced no further back than the early 19th-century, when the societal changes induced by the industrial revolution and the rise of constitutional democracy prompted a transition from older, feudal-based forms of identity. In the case of Israel-Palestine, Zionist and Palestinian identities are especially the first arising in late-19th-century Eastern Europe (in response to problem of Jewish emancipation) and the latter around the same time in Palestine due to economic industrialization. As Mazin Qomsiyeh reminded us, Palestine's Jews and Christian lived and died not as different peoples but as locals until recently.
Statesmen, accustomed to nation-state as predominant form of political arrangement, commonly pitch a two-state solution to the conflict, which would allow both nationalisms achieve "realization" through territorial compromise. For similar reasons, I too have traditionally believed that this would be the only endgame.
And yet, in Israel-Palestine, where the competing nationalisms not only covet the same territory but are premised-at least in recent times- so strongly on the denial of the legitimacy other (nationalism), fulfilling both nationalisms in tandem may add fuel to the conflict rather than manage it.
As Jerusalem lawyer, Daniel Seidemann noted, this division will not result in hunky-dory coexistence but rather a "bitter divorce," that would require a considerable security guarantee by America and its allies to implement. Ironically, Seidemann made this comment as the bus wound its way through the Arab neighborhood (slated as belonging to a future Palestinian state) of Sheikh Jarrah, situated a mere 600 meters away from the future border (the Green Line) and the Jewish neighborhood of Mea Shearim. Should the future independent states of Israel and Palestine remain beset by opposing claims and grievances, the geopolitical situation in Jerusalem would ensure for a Cold War-like hostility at best (if not fractious bloodshed).
Compounding the problematic nature of the nationalisms is the degree to which religious belief (something that is far more difficult to "assimilate" to than a language or even culture) permeates the political and societal structures of the land. At the Temple Mount in Jerusalem and Cave of the Patriarchs in Hebron, a strict religious (and ethnic) segregation between Jewish (Israeli) and Muslim (Palestinian) worshippers is maintained by the Israeli security forces,. Entering the country through the security checkpoints at Ben Gurion airport, my party was confronted with questions not about our citizenship but about our religion ("Are your parents Jewish?" I was asked): wrong answers could get students pulled aside for extended questioning. In East Jerusalem, on the other hand, a member of our group who looked and inform politics on both sides.
Though religion and ethnicity have played a significant social role in the Middle East since the days of the Ottoman Millet System, the construction of national (Jewish-Zionist and Palestinian) identities political systems exclusively around religion is a relatively recent phenomenon.The first Zionist Congress, which laid out for the first time, an explicit goal of a homeland for members of the Jewish faith in Eretz Yisrael, convened only in 1896 . Palestinian nationalism, whose roots lay in the wholly secular process of industrial modernization (in nineteenth century Palestine), only became gradually (and partially) tied to the Islamic religion in light of the conflict with Zionism (e.g. the language of Islamic Martyrdom first entered Palestinian revolutionary rhetoric during the anti-zionist rebellions of the 1920s and 1930s), the flight of Palestinian Christian populations and political changes in the region (e.g. the Islamic Revolution and Hamas).
In theory, one could easily become a "Palestinian Jew" simply by embracing one's regional origins (and perhaps Arabic culture) and proclaiming solidarity with the Palestinian national cause: Uri Davis provides a case in point. Becoming a "Jewish Palestinian," would , on the other hand, be an extremely difficult and painful process: it is for this reason that the Arabic-speaking (many self-identifying as "Palestinian") citizens of Israel suffer such institutional discrimination within the Jewish state.
My point is not to blame Zionism but to argue that a long-term, equitable solution to the conflict will require people on all sides and their supporters (particularly Zionist American Jews) to identify with their neighbors as much as they do with their coreligionists.
In other conflict zones such as Bosnia-Herzegovina and Northern Ireland, where religious-based national divisions once fueled bitterness and strife, a peaceful resolution resulted in a single political entity (backed up by security guarantees), in which people on both sides of the divide were compelled to live side-by-side, preserving their communal identities without negating the presence of the other.
The question, then, is why (rather than another "two-state proposal") can't the same feat be achieved in Israel-Palestine?
When in the process of going through my notes from the trip, my thoughts kept drifting back to the Spring Quarter of my Freshman year of college, when I took a course on the Israel-Palestine conflict with Professor James Gelvin. Gelvin is a truly incredible teacher, delivering presentations with the perfect mixture of clarity and wit. What brings me to remember his course, in recent days, however, is Gelvin's theoretical characterization of the conflcit as a "conflict of nationalisms."
In the course of my travels throughout Israel-Palestine, I could not help be struck by the prominence of historical narratives in determining present political actions.
By history, I do not refer to the past as objective actuality, but rather as perceived narrative, that varies according to one's personal/life experiences. constructed as so much as the conceptualization .
When our group visited the infamous Hebron settlement, the settlement's spokesperson, David Wilder, justified the imposition of the settlement, as well as the accompanying military regime, on the city on the basis that Jews "had lived there continuously" from Biblical times prior to the founding of the state of Israel (and because Judaism's third holiest site, the Cave of the Patriarchs, lay in the city).
Palestinian entreprenuer Mubib al-Masri, as if to counter Wilder's logic of causation, off-handedly remarked (when showing , when showing off the ruins of a Byzantine church that archaeologists had excavated beneath his house) that "it was lucky that we didn't find any synagogue...for then the settlers would come..." A full-fledged Palestinian national "counter-narrative" could be witnessed (amongst other places) on a historical timeline at the Jenin Municipal museum, which omitted any mention of Hebrew or Jewish events occurring in the region. the local museum at Jenin, history al-Masri declared that he's "glad a synagogue was not discovered on the site, for it would lend legitimacy to Jewish nationalists (who would perceivedly try to displace him).
In a world of nation-states, national identities and narratives (such as the Zionist and the Palestinians) can seem to be primordial (especially when they draw legitimacy from a text as ancient as the Bible). To the contrary, however, most historians and social scientists concur that nationalism can be traced no further back than the early 19th-century, when the societal changes induced by the industrial revolution and the rise of constitutional democracy prompted a transition from older, feudal-based forms of identity. In the case of Israel-Palestine, Zionist and Palestinian identities are especially the first arising in late-19th-century Eastern Europe (in response to problem of Jewish emancipation) and the latter around the same time in Palestine due to economic industrialization. As Mazin Qomsiyeh reminded us, Palestine's Jews and Christian lived and died not as different peoples but as locals until recently.
Statesmen, accustomed to nation-state as predominant form of political arrangement, commonly pitch a two-state solution to the conflict, which would allow both nationalisms achieve "realization" through territorial compromise. For similar reasons, I too have traditionally believed that this would be the only endgame.
And yet, in Israel-Palestine, where the competing nationalisms not only covet the same territory but are premised-at least in recent times- so strongly on the denial of the legitimacy other (nationalism), fulfilling both nationalisms in tandem may add fuel to the conflict rather than manage it.
As Jerusalem lawyer, Daniel Seidemann noted, this division will not result in hunky-dory coexistence but rather a "bitter divorce," that would require a considerable security guarantee by America and its allies to implement. Ironically, Seidemann made this comment as the bus wound its way through the Arab neighborhood (slated as belonging to a future Palestinian state) of Sheikh Jarrah, situated a mere 600 meters away from the future border (the Green Line) and the Jewish neighborhood of Mea Shearim. Should the future independent states of Israel and Palestine remain beset by opposing claims and grievances, the geopolitical situation in Jerusalem would ensure for a Cold War-like hostility at best (if not fractious bloodshed).
Compounding the problematic nature of the nationalisms is the degree to which religious belief (something that is far more difficult to "assimilate" to than a language or even culture) permeates the political and societal structures of the land. At the Temple Mount in Jerusalem and Cave of the Patriarchs in Hebron, a strict religious (and ethnic) segregation between Jewish (Israeli) and Muslim (Palestinian) worshippers is maintained by the Israeli security forces,. Entering the country through the security checkpoints at Ben Gurion airport, my party was confronted with questions not about our citizenship but about our religion ("Are your parents Jewish?" I was asked): wrong answers could get students pulled aside for extended questioning. In East Jerusalem, on the other hand, a member of our group who looked and inform politics on both sides.
Though religion and ethnicity have played a significant social role in the Middle East since the days of the Ottoman Millet System, the construction of national (Jewish-Zionist and Palestinian) identities political systems exclusively around religion is a relatively recent phenomenon.The first Zionist Congress, which laid out for the first time, an explicit goal of a homeland for members of the Jewish faith in Eretz Yisrael, convened only in 1896 . Palestinian nationalism, whose roots lay in the wholly secular process of industrial modernization (in nineteenth century Palestine), only became gradually (and partially) tied to the Islamic religion in light of the conflict with Zionism (e.g. the language of Islamic Martyrdom first entered Palestinian revolutionary rhetoric during the anti-zionist rebellions of the 1920s and 1930s), the flight of Palestinian Christian populations and political changes in the region (e.g. the Islamic Revolution and Hamas).
In theory, one could easily become a "Palestinian Jew" simply by embracing one's regional origins (and perhaps Arabic culture) and proclaiming solidarity with the Palestinian national cause: Uri Davis provides a case in point. Becoming a "Jewish Palestinian," would , on the other hand, be an extremely difficult and painful process: it is for this reason that the Arabic-speaking (many self-identifying as "Palestinian") citizens of Israel suffer such institutional discrimination within the Jewish state.
My point is not to blame Zionism but to argue that a long-term, equitable solution to the conflict will require people on all sides and their supporters (particularly Zionist American Jews) to identify with their neighbors as much as they do with their coreligionists.
In other conflict zones such as Bosnia-Herzegovina and Northern Ireland, where religious-based national divisions once fueled bitterness and strife, a peaceful resolution resulted in a single political entity (backed up by security guarantees), in which people on both sides of the divide were compelled to live side-by-side, preserving their communal identities without negating the presence of the other.
The question, then, is why (rather than another "two-state proposal") can't the same feat be achieved in Israel-Palestine?
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Young and Broke
My head hits the concrete
legs crooked, askance and
arms...slouching back.
In hiding.
The checks have been cashed
and turned up blank.
The beer and cover charges
remain outstanding.
To mother's ears
you shouldn't lie.
From Father's eyes
you cannot hide.
Alone, to yourself, you try, try, try...
To run away..
to flagellate...
to sit and stare...
You LAZY, erect Bastard!
You've got decades ahead
swallowed
in debt
and fear
and hate.
legs crooked, askance and
arms...slouching back.
In hiding.
The checks have been cashed
and turned up blank.
The beer and cover charges
remain outstanding.
To mother's ears
you shouldn't lie.
From Father's eyes
you cannot hide.
Alone, to yourself, you try, try, try...
To run away..
to flagellate...
to sit and stare...
You LAZY, erect Bastard!
You've got decades ahead
swallowed
in debt
and fear
and hate.
Saturday, February 7, 2015
Thoughts on the Olive Tree Initiative Trip and Normalization
Author's Note: The first three paragraphs of this piece portray a dialogue and between a myself and a metaphorical Everyman of a certain political perspective. Readers of this blog need not worry that I am singling them (or any other person) out.
I have been quite sluggish for the past month, taking frequent naps and heading to bed before midnight. This, along with the rigors of my new job, are what have prevented me from making the much-awaited first post of the New Year.
Now why am I so tired, you ask, when you meet me in the coffee house.
The answer is largely jet-lag: I returned on January 11th from a ten-day Conflict Education trip to Israel-Palestine with the Olive Tree Initiative.
Why would you go on that trip, some may say?
This "why" is not the "why" asked by family members worried about my safety, nor the "why" posed by friends curious about my interest in the conflict. Rather, this why asks "how can you go on a trip that normalizes the Occupation and/.or Apartheid in Palestine.
Maybe, you think that the adoption of a terminology of a two-sided "conflict" obscures the oppressive nature of the West Bank Occupation regime.
Maybe, instead, you fear that the program's careful balancing of Zionist Israeli and Palestinian speakers (and narratives) too strikingly resembles the sort of "dialogue groups" that characterized the failure of the Oslo era.
Before I voice another subconscious opinion of yours, I must rebuke by pointing out that the Olive Tree Initiative (unlike some other trips of greater noteriety) bears no insitutional affiliation with the Israeli government or Zionist organizations (even if pro-Zionist groups and individuals may donate money from time to time). Indeed, the group's sole stated mission is to provide "rigorous academic preperation" and "experential education" (hence the travel to conflict zones) necessary to "better understand, negotiate and resolve conflicts." Note how the word "understand,"in particular, denotes the detachment from any particular narrative. As such, any of the frames that you fear the group mirrors are not the intent of the trip leaders/organizers.
What supposedly holds true in theory is supported by my empirical observation.
During the course of the trip, the group met and conversed with figures as politically diverse as Palestinian academic Mazin Qomsiyeh and Hebron settler leader David Wilder. While providing each speaker's background and political orientation, the group leader, Daniel Wehrenfennig, never made value judgements about a speaker when addressing the group. Nor did he seek to guide or frame the innumerable conversations participants had (following each session) about speakers or the trip as a whole. The official group reflection sessions, held every evening, were hands-off, allowing for the free flow of thoughts and opinions.
Indeed, at no time during the trip did we ever feel stifled in our conversation. I could make a comment in the daily reflection session on how I was led to a believe (through my day's experiences) in a one state solution as an ideal resolution to the conflict only to have a companion retort that the "two-state solution remains the only realistic outcome."
One night, when the group split up to attend dinner gatherings at the homes of locals, I found myself engaged in a three-way conversation/debate on the discriminatory nature of Zionism involving myself, a student prominent in Zionist activism at UCLA (I won't give out any names) and our house, whose house had beeen damaged during the 2001 siege in the Church of the Nativity. Our host and I actually dominated with our arguments pointing out Zionism's ethnic colonial and the third participant remained largely silent.
This brings me to my second objection to criticism of OTI from Palestine Solidarity activists about the trip: the humanizing effect that it has on Zionist students.
No student, no matter how they were raised, can go through the intensive, racially-charged "security screenings" at Israel's airports, embassy and military checkpoints without recognizing the practice of bare-boned racism.
No trip participant can travel from the bourgeois suburbs of Haifa to the dilapitated refugee camps at Deheisheh and Jenin and witness the snaking walls and pots on the rooftops for collecting rainwater (so scarce is the amount of water the authorities allocate) without acknowledging the fundamental power disparity between the Palestinian and Israeli sides.
If the trip had an overtly activist or anti-occupation agenda, Zionist students would probably shun the trip, as would many non-Zionist students (like myself) who rely on ionist-minded relatives for funding. By presenting a sheath of detached "neutrality" the Olive Tree Initiative manages to attract pro-Israel students to a trip that lures in them into the underbelly of the Occupation.
True, the trip exposes students to as many the voices from Israeli society as it does to those in Palestinian society. Many of the Israelis we met with on the trip spoke of their own fears of Palestinians and need for security. What one took from the Israeli narrative was left up to the individual.
For me at least, the surrounding contexts of occupation and military rule, together with the humanity I found in the Palestinians I met made it clear that the fearful Israeli perspective, though an attitude to be dealt with, proved misplace and unfounded.
Other students, who may have been rooted more firmly in Zionist background, likely reached different conclusions. On a hopeful note, however, I recall an one student with revisionist Zionist express concerns with Israel's airport interrogation methods after hearing one of the Muslim students recount his experience
The best way for participants (especially Zionist students) to absorb the reality of Occupation and oppression would be for a stronger activist presence on the trip. By conveying an added layer of context at each step of the journey, Palestinian activist students would provide a valuable educational resource.
All of this leads to a larger point that I have about "normalization" (and why I am opposed to many applications of the term by anti-normalization activists).
Yes, I do believe that certain "dialogue" efforts which are initiated by right-wing Zionist institutions and actors supporting the Occupation (e.g. a "peace conference" held in a settlement) are too patronizing and cooptive to expect Palestinian participation.
And yet, in many cases, I believe that education forums, like the Olive Tree Initiative, and even infamous "dialogue groups" can help empower Palestinian participants, if the latter use their presence wisely.
Even where dialogue takes an implicitly "balanced" stance, that fails to recognizes the gaping power differentials, Palestinian participants can (and should) utilize their presence to subvert the frame of discussion by laying bare cogent and forceful facts that argue for justice.
But why should Palestinians participate in dialogue groups that fail to recognize the fundamental injustice perpetrated by one side?
A telling answer lies in the fact that (as I've mentioned before) Ultra-zionism is largely born in ignorance. American Jews spend their lives cooped up in an ideological "cocoon", in which they are raised to believe Palestinians as reincarnations of the racist and menacing anti-semites of yore. This leads them to unwittingly support (with "reluctance") repressive political actions by Israel that often conflict with the liberal attitudes that they hold on most other issues.
An added rationale for Palestinians and their sympathizers to participate in shared forums with Zionist Israelis-even those that appear condescending-is an age-old piece of strategic wisdom: you can't win a fight unless you"know"your enemy, by understanding (though not necessarily acknowledging) his mindset and worldview.
Bringing justice to as messy of a trauma as that tormenting Palestine will require as much discipline as passion and as much nuance as dogma. Especially given the amount of fear and vitriol that drives oppression in this region, it is more advisable that Palestinians counter through open mouths than closed arms. Indeed, as Martin Luther King affirmed, justice is fundamentally intertwined with peace and understanding.
I have been quite sluggish for the past month, taking frequent naps and heading to bed before midnight. This, along with the rigors of my new job, are what have prevented me from making the much-awaited first post of the New Year.
Now why am I so tired, you ask, when you meet me in the coffee house.
The answer is largely jet-lag: I returned on January 11th from a ten-day Conflict Education trip to Israel-Palestine with the Olive Tree Initiative.
Why would you go on that trip, some may say?
This "why" is not the "why" asked by family members worried about my safety, nor the "why" posed by friends curious about my interest in the conflict. Rather, this why asks "how can you go on a trip that normalizes the Occupation and/.or Apartheid in Palestine.
Maybe, you think that the adoption of a terminology of a two-sided "conflict" obscures the oppressive nature of the West Bank Occupation regime.
Maybe, instead, you fear that the program's careful balancing of Zionist Israeli and Palestinian speakers (and narratives) too strikingly resembles the sort of "dialogue groups" that characterized the failure of the Oslo era.
Before I voice another subconscious opinion of yours, I must rebuke by pointing out that the Olive Tree Initiative (unlike some other trips of greater noteriety) bears no insitutional affiliation with the Israeli government or Zionist organizations (even if pro-Zionist groups and individuals may donate money from time to time). Indeed, the group's sole stated mission is to provide "rigorous academic preperation" and "experential education" (hence the travel to conflict zones) necessary to "better understand, negotiate and resolve conflicts." Note how the word "understand,"in particular, denotes the detachment from any particular narrative. As such, any of the frames that you fear the group mirrors are not the intent of the trip leaders/organizers.
What supposedly holds true in theory is supported by my empirical observation.
During the course of the trip, the group met and conversed with figures as politically diverse as Palestinian academic Mazin Qomsiyeh and Hebron settler leader David Wilder. While providing each speaker's background and political orientation, the group leader, Daniel Wehrenfennig, never made value judgements about a speaker when addressing the group. Nor did he seek to guide or frame the innumerable conversations participants had (following each session) about speakers or the trip as a whole. The official group reflection sessions, held every evening, were hands-off, allowing for the free flow of thoughts and opinions.
Indeed, at no time during the trip did we ever feel stifled in our conversation. I could make a comment in the daily reflection session on how I was led to a believe (through my day's experiences) in a one state solution as an ideal resolution to the conflict only to have a companion retort that the "two-state solution remains the only realistic outcome."
One night, when the group split up to attend dinner gatherings at the homes of locals, I found myself engaged in a three-way conversation/debate on the discriminatory nature of Zionism involving myself, a student prominent in Zionist activism at UCLA (I won't give out any names) and our house, whose house had beeen damaged during the 2001 siege in the Church of the Nativity. Our host and I actually dominated with our arguments pointing out Zionism's ethnic colonial and the third participant remained largely silent.
This brings me to my second objection to criticism of OTI from Palestine Solidarity activists about the trip: the humanizing effect that it has on Zionist students.
No student, no matter how they were raised, can go through the intensive, racially-charged "security screenings" at Israel's airports, embassy and military checkpoints without recognizing the practice of bare-boned racism.
No trip participant can travel from the bourgeois suburbs of Haifa to the dilapitated refugee camps at Deheisheh and Jenin and witness the snaking walls and pots on the rooftops for collecting rainwater (so scarce is the amount of water the authorities allocate) without acknowledging the fundamental power disparity between the Palestinian and Israeli sides.
If the trip had an overtly activist or anti-occupation agenda, Zionist students would probably shun the trip, as would many non-Zionist students (like myself) who rely on ionist-minded relatives for funding. By presenting a sheath of detached "neutrality" the Olive Tree Initiative manages to attract pro-Israel students to a trip that lures in them into the underbelly of the Occupation.
True, the trip exposes students to as many the voices from Israeli society as it does to those in Palestinian society. Many of the Israelis we met with on the trip spoke of their own fears of Palestinians and need for security. What one took from the Israeli narrative was left up to the individual.
For me at least, the surrounding contexts of occupation and military rule, together with the humanity I found in the Palestinians I met made it clear that the fearful Israeli perspective, though an attitude to be dealt with, proved misplace and unfounded.
Other students, who may have been rooted more firmly in Zionist background, likely reached different conclusions. On a hopeful note, however, I recall an one student with revisionist Zionist express concerns with Israel's airport interrogation methods after hearing one of the Muslim students recount his experience
The best way for participants (especially Zionist students) to absorb the reality of Occupation and oppression would be for a stronger activist presence on the trip. By conveying an added layer of context at each step of the journey, Palestinian activist students would provide a valuable educational resource.
All of this leads to a larger point that I have about "normalization" (and why I am opposed to many applications of the term by anti-normalization activists).
Yes, I do believe that certain "dialogue" efforts which are initiated by right-wing Zionist institutions and actors supporting the Occupation (e.g. a "peace conference" held in a settlement) are too patronizing and cooptive to expect Palestinian participation.
And yet, in many cases, I believe that education forums, like the Olive Tree Initiative, and even infamous "dialogue groups" can help empower Palestinian participants, if the latter use their presence wisely.
Even where dialogue takes an implicitly "balanced" stance, that fails to recognizes the gaping power differentials, Palestinian participants can (and should) utilize their presence to subvert the frame of discussion by laying bare cogent and forceful facts that argue for justice.
But why should Palestinians participate in dialogue groups that fail to recognize the fundamental injustice perpetrated by one side?
A telling answer lies in the fact that (as I've mentioned before) Ultra-zionism is largely born in ignorance. American Jews spend their lives cooped up in an ideological "cocoon", in which they are raised to believe Palestinians as reincarnations of the racist and menacing anti-semites of yore. This leads them to unwittingly support (with "reluctance") repressive political actions by Israel that often conflict with the liberal attitudes that they hold on most other issues.
An added rationale for Palestinians and their sympathizers to participate in shared forums with Zionist Israelis-even those that appear condescending-is an age-old piece of strategic wisdom: you can't win a fight unless you"know"your enemy, by understanding (though not necessarily acknowledging) his mindset and worldview.
Bringing justice to as messy of a trauma as that tormenting Palestine will require as much discipline as passion and as much nuance as dogma. Especially given the amount of fear and vitriol that drives oppression in this region, it is more advisable that Palestinians counter through open mouths than closed arms. Indeed, as Martin Luther King affirmed, justice is fundamentally intertwined with peace and understanding.
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Happy New Years and upcoming Journey to Israel-Palestine
For once, I will not be getting intoxicated this New Year's Eve. That is because early tomorrow morning, at 10:46am, I will be boarding a flight for Tel Aviv, beginning a ten-day educational trip to Israel-Palestine with the Olive Tree Initiative.
It will have been exactly a decade since I last set foot in the region.
The circumstances on the ground will have drastically changed, as has the nature of my trip.
In my last journey, made during the dying days of the Second Intifada, I encountered a nation locked down under the (purely) psychological siege of suicide bombers and ready to brutally retaliate against the "existential threat" of Palestinian militancy, whether from the secular Fatah or religious Hamas.
Today, with most of the "Separation Barrier" (or "Security Fence," per Israel, completed), Israelis not only are freer from violence than they have ever been in their state's tumultuous history but they have become ever more detached from the troubles of the Occupation. The experience of the Intifada, however, continues to embitter many, even on the Left, towards Palestinian nationalism. As a result, the silent majority of Jewish Israel cares about doing nothing to change the status quo.
On a personal level, my political orientation has changed from Zionist to non-Zionist in the course of time.
Since I traveled with a Jewish Day School on my last trip, I was naturally immersed in a traditional Zionist milieu. We traveled only to sites associated with Jewish history (e.g. Jerusalem, Masada, the Palmach Museum), avoiding even rest stops in Palestinian towns. The maps we received showed an "Israel" that encompassed towns like Hebron and Schehem, from the river to the sea...
This trip, I will be traveling with a Conflict education group, dedicate to equal exposure of both sides. In the course of 10 days, I will traverse Israel-Palestine, warts and all, from the Separation Barrier to the Al-Aqsa Mosque and Western Wall to the Golan Heights.
Through it all, I hope to gain first-hand observations that can substantiate (or challenge?) the nuanced positions that I have acquired through years of research on the subject.
I hope everyone has a happy New Year and hope to have lots to discuss on my return.
It will have been exactly a decade since I last set foot in the region.
The circumstances on the ground will have drastically changed, as has the nature of my trip.
In my last journey, made during the dying days of the Second Intifada, I encountered a nation locked down under the (purely) psychological siege of suicide bombers and ready to brutally retaliate against the "existential threat" of Palestinian militancy, whether from the secular Fatah or religious Hamas.
Today, with most of the "Separation Barrier" (or "Security Fence," per Israel, completed), Israelis not only are freer from violence than they have ever been in their state's tumultuous history but they have become ever more detached from the troubles of the Occupation. The experience of the Intifada, however, continues to embitter many, even on the Left, towards Palestinian nationalism. As a result, the silent majority of Jewish Israel cares about doing nothing to change the status quo.
On a personal level, my political orientation has changed from Zionist to non-Zionist in the course of time.
Since I traveled with a Jewish Day School on my last trip, I was naturally immersed in a traditional Zionist milieu. We traveled only to sites associated with Jewish history (e.g. Jerusalem, Masada, the Palmach Museum), avoiding even rest stops in Palestinian towns. The maps we received showed an "Israel" that encompassed towns like Hebron and Schehem, from the river to the sea...
This trip, I will be traveling with a Conflict education group, dedicate to equal exposure of both sides. In the course of 10 days, I will traverse Israel-Palestine, warts and all, from the Separation Barrier to the Al-Aqsa Mosque and Western Wall to the Golan Heights.
Through it all, I hope to gain first-hand observations that can substantiate (or challenge?) the nuanced positions that I have acquired through years of research on the subject.
I hope everyone has a happy New Year and hope to have lots to discuss on my return.
Thursday, December 18, 2014
Los Angeles' New York moment
I was inspired to write this post while waiting for Lyft requests at 2am in the late-night, on Tuesday (technically Wednesday). More accurately, I was parked on the corner of La Brea Avenue and First street in the number of Miracle Mile watching, to my surprise, a rather steady cascade of cars pass by.
This was no traffic jam for sure,but rather a steady flow of traffic that indicated, if anything, that even on this odd hour on a weeknight, life was happening.
This, in turn, brought to mind the Halloween weekend, on which Beverly Blvd backed up for over a mile, from La Cienaga Blvd. to Doheny Drive. For most of the two point five miles that I drove, from around Highland Avenue to Doheny, traffic moved at a snail's pace. Meanwhile sidewalks, at every stretch of the journey, teemed with costumed-clad figures...as many walking, as waiting for a car.
For eons, Los Angeles has been ridiculed as a subpar exemplar of a Global metropolis. Huxley's quip about "Nineteen suburbs in search of a city" captures the perceived lack of urban contiguity and, indeed, cosmopolitanism, quite wittily.
However, lately, the city has accrued a remarkable degree of cosmopolitan urbanism that can be seen almost as a coming of age.
Part of this has come in the form of a diversified, respectable food culture (with Los Angeles recently being named the best food city in America). The sophisticated theater and arts scene in this once-named "city of plastic" have also drawn acclaim.
But perhaps the biggest boon to Los Angeles' status as a city has come in the form of an increasingly concentrated population.
It is no longer a secret that Los Angeles is one of the five densest cities in the country (if not the densest, depending on the measure you use).LA boasts a concentration of people and events that once associated with cities like NEW YOrk.
http://www.laweekly.com/informer/2012/03/26/los-angeles-beats-new-york-in-urban-density
Moreover, this density appears to be considerably concentrated, particularly focusing on what one USC grad student calls a "Santa Monica-Wilshire corridor" stretching linerly across the central LA basin.
True, there are significant job clusters beyond this confined space, in parts of the San Fernando Valley and the South Bay, for instance. Residential development spreads out much farther apace.
However, even the different job cores are relatively close together and culture and entertainment are concentrated even more tightly.
LA's public transit infrastructure is notoriously undeveloped. Less well-known is the fact that Los Angeles roads are also woefully outdated, lacking the width or the surface structure necessary to support the millions of automobilesthat traverse them daily.
Then again, the near ubiquity of automobile ownership in Los Angeles is another problem requiring desparate attention.
In any case, if Los Angeles, is to truly shine as the next New York, it must do or die. Policy makers should seize the moment to more forcefully advocate smart growth strategies such as, expanding public transport and improving walkability. In this way, they can tailor the city's growth to the new realities.
This was no traffic jam for sure,but rather a steady flow of traffic that indicated, if anything, that even on this odd hour on a weeknight, life was happening.
This, in turn, brought to mind the Halloween weekend, on which Beverly Blvd backed up for over a mile, from La Cienaga Blvd. to Doheny Drive. For most of the two point five miles that I drove, from around Highland Avenue to Doheny, traffic moved at a snail's pace. Meanwhile sidewalks, at every stretch of the journey, teemed with costumed-clad figures...as many walking, as waiting for a car.
For eons, Los Angeles has been ridiculed as a subpar exemplar of a Global metropolis. Huxley's quip about "Nineteen suburbs in search of a city" captures the perceived lack of urban contiguity and, indeed, cosmopolitanism, quite wittily.
However, lately, the city has accrued a remarkable degree of cosmopolitan urbanism that can be seen almost as a coming of age.
Part of this has come in the form of a diversified, respectable food culture (with Los Angeles recently being named the best food city in America). The sophisticated theater and arts scene in this once-named "city of plastic" have also drawn acclaim.
But perhaps the biggest boon to Los Angeles' status as a city has come in the form of an increasingly concentrated population.
It is no longer a secret that Los Angeles is one of the five densest cities in the country (if not the densest, depending on the measure you use).LA boasts a concentration of people and events that once associated with cities like NEW YOrk.
http://www.laweekly.com/informer/2012/03/26/los-angeles-beats-new-york-in-urban-density
Moreover, this density appears to be considerably concentrated, particularly focusing on what one USC grad student calls a "Santa Monica-Wilshire corridor" stretching linerly across the central LA basin.
True, there are significant job clusters beyond this confined space, in parts of the San Fernando Valley and the South Bay, for instance. Residential development spreads out much farther apace.
However, even the different job cores are relatively close together and culture and entertainment are concentrated even more tightly.
LA's public transit infrastructure is notoriously undeveloped. Less well-known is the fact that Los Angeles roads are also woefully outdated, lacking the width or the surface structure necessary to support the millions of automobilesthat traverse them daily.
Then again, the near ubiquity of automobile ownership in Los Angeles is another problem requiring desparate attention.
In any case, if Los Angeles, is to truly shine as the next New York, it must do or die. Policy makers should seize the moment to more forcefully advocate smart growth strategies such as, expanding public transport and improving walkability. In this way, they can tailor the city's growth to the new realities.
Friday, October 17, 2014
Thoughts on Open Hillel
"There is a painting by Klee called Angelus Novus. It shows an angel who seems about to move away from something he stares at. His eyes are wide, his mouth is open, his wings are spread. This is how the angel of history must look."-Walter Benjamin
Benjamin's image was the image on my mind by the end of my first morning at the Open Hillel conference. Not in the tragic sense that Benjamin intended, where the angel ensnares itself in the "storm ...from paradise," but in the majestic grace of a tremendous, though cataclysmic, rupture in the midst of a dreadful storm. For the first time, an American Jewish organization was listening openly and earnestly to Palestinians praise BDS, to Jewish scholars explore the colonial origins of Zionism, and to a panel that thoroughly debated the implications of one-state and two-state solutions to the conflict.
The morning started off with Professor Rashid Khalidi. Yes, Professor Rashid Khalidi, one of the pre-eminent authorities on Palestinian nationalism, appeared in the breakfast area, chatting with conference organizers as he retrieved Starbucks coffee. Khalidi then proceeded to give a talk in the conference room which was supposed to have dealt with the topic of Palestinian nationalism but which actually focused on the exigency of Open Hillel to the Palestinian cause.
"There are two battles," Khalidi began. "One on the ground, in Palestine...and the other one in the US, the metropole for Israel." If the first was a concrete, physical struggle, the second focused on discourse and the supremacy of ideas.
It was this struggle, the second battle, that Open Hillel was poised to change. "I hope you all realize the importance of this event," Khalidi reminded.
The remainder of the day saw Mark LeVine propose a "dialectical grappling" between anti-Zionist values and the purported Zionist cause (with the intention of enabling a conclusive solution to the "occupation" and "domination" entailed by the former ideology) and a spirited debate between Rebecca Vilkommerson and Peter Beinart over BDS' endgame vision and the role of a two-state solution. The following day, such contentious topics as the presence of racism in Orthodox Judaism and the meaning of the Palestinian "anti-normalization" campaign were broached by panels in a matter of respectful inquiry.
As someone who has expressed considerable ostracism from both my rabbis and Day School friends for merely questioning the logic of Israel's most recent operation in Gaza, witnessing such intellectual openness on the question of Israel and Zionism in a thoroughly Jewish space felt ethereal if not angelic.
"If I am only for myself who am I..." Such could have been the defining message of this week's conference, not only in the substance of its programming but in the underlying caim to transform the Jewish community. Attending the conference granted me personal vindication but I know that if similar relief is to be obtained for the numerous young Jews who are forced to dissemble on Israel-Palestine as well as the countless Palestinians who suffer from the policies advocated by an "Israel Lobby" frontlined by the organized Jewish community, much hard work and activism lies ahead.
Benjamin's image was the image on my mind by the end of my first morning at the Open Hillel conference. Not in the tragic sense that Benjamin intended, where the angel ensnares itself in the "storm ...from paradise," but in the majestic grace of a tremendous, though cataclysmic, rupture in the midst of a dreadful storm. For the first time, an American Jewish organization was listening openly and earnestly to Palestinians praise BDS, to Jewish scholars explore the colonial origins of Zionism, and to a panel that thoroughly debated the implications of one-state and two-state solutions to the conflict.
The morning started off with Professor Rashid Khalidi. Yes, Professor Rashid Khalidi, one of the pre-eminent authorities on Palestinian nationalism, appeared in the breakfast area, chatting with conference organizers as he retrieved Starbucks coffee. Khalidi then proceeded to give a talk in the conference room which was supposed to have dealt with the topic of Palestinian nationalism but which actually focused on the exigency of Open Hillel to the Palestinian cause.
"There are two battles," Khalidi began. "One on the ground, in Palestine...and the other one in the US, the metropole for Israel." If the first was a concrete, physical struggle, the second focused on discourse and the supremacy of ideas.
It was this struggle, the second battle, that Open Hillel was poised to change. "I hope you all realize the importance of this event," Khalidi reminded.
The remainder of the day saw Mark LeVine propose a "dialectical grappling" between anti-Zionist values and the purported Zionist cause (with the intention of enabling a conclusive solution to the "occupation" and "domination" entailed by the former ideology) and a spirited debate between Rebecca Vilkommerson and Peter Beinart over BDS' endgame vision and the role of a two-state solution. The following day, such contentious topics as the presence of racism in Orthodox Judaism and the meaning of the Palestinian "anti-normalization" campaign were broached by panels in a matter of respectful inquiry.
As someone who has expressed considerable ostracism from both my rabbis and Day School friends for merely questioning the logic of Israel's most recent operation in Gaza, witnessing such intellectual openness on the question of Israel and Zionism in a thoroughly Jewish space felt ethereal if not angelic.
"If I am only for myself who am I..." Such could have been the defining message of this week's conference, not only in the substance of its programming but in the underlying caim to transform the Jewish community. Attending the conference granted me personal vindication but I know that if similar relief is to be obtained for the numerous young Jews who are forced to dissemble on Israel-Palestine as well as the countless Palestinians who suffer from the policies advocated by an "Israel Lobby" frontlined by the organized Jewish community, much hard work and activism lies ahead.
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