By Fawzi Mansour * Edward Said's sincerity, his humanity and his ethical rigour, shine so clearly through everything he writes, that I often feel reluctant to disagree with him even in the privacy of my own thoughts, let alone to contest his views in public. However, five of his recent articles in Al-Ahram Weekly have, taken together, pushed me to the point at which I feel I must respond. The articles in question ("Time for a new beginning", 9 April; "Art, culture and nationalism", 23 April; "New history, old ideas", 21 May; "Inside the other wilaya", 4 June; and "A desolation and they called it peace", 25 June) are all, as usual, masterly, perceptive and full of wisdom. But there is running through them a constant refrain that jars. And it jars because I find it demobilising, at a time when we need to gather all our strength. Said's writings are so densely packed with rich ideas that it is extremely difficult and probably unfair to isolate or summarise the statements to which I take exception. Quotation is always fraught with danger. I hope, nevertheless, that I will not do him an injustice by relying essentially on this method: the context is there for concerned readers to check, and his own words are sufficiently clear to distance any possible ambiguities. The "refrain" to which I refer is most clearly stated in the first of the articles in question: "There are numerous avenues for communicating with Israelis who are prepared to fight against apartheid and theocracy in their country. And here we must courageously welcome such people and not hide behind casuistry about being opposed to 'normalisation'. We must normalise with Israelis who share our goals, that is, self-determination for the two peoples in Palestine." Agreeing with the Israeli conductor Daniel Barenboim's perception that "the only real avenue open for reconciliation is culture, not politics, nor economic schemes," Said tells us that "the time has come to make justice a common topic for us and for Israelis." When put this way, innocent readers may get the impression that the call for justice -- for Israelis as well as Palestinians -- has so far been absent from Palestinian political discourse, Said's own remarkable contributions in this area notwithstanding. This is not the case, for between 1970 and 1974 the PLO promoted the notion of a single, secular and democratic state. It is very difficult to think of a more just and moral solution to the conflict. That notion, however, was doomed to failure, not because of Arab fanaticism or intransigence, but because it undermines both the religious foundations and the more worldly interests --internal as well as external -- on which the Zionist state was built. Given the balance of power between the Palestinian-Arab and the Zionist-imperialist sides (even more tilted now than then), it is hard to imagine how the ethical factor could at present play a significant role in changing Israeli attitudes, official or non-official. What follows in the other four articles is basically a set of creative variations on this same theme. Some of these further elaborations, however, are noteworthy. Suggesting -- merely suggesting, I repeat, not proposing -- a common front with Sephardic Jews, Said writes in the second article that a belief in the necessity of justice, non-discrimination and equality appear as the core of the ideals for which we all, Palestinians and non-Palestinians alike, have been struggling. The argument applies equally to, among others, Palestinian Jews and Sephardic Jews (from Yemen, Iraq and Egypt), "who went to Israel but whose persecution because they were not Ashkenazi Jews has turned them into powerful critics of the Jewish State". I must admit to being surprised at hearing that those Sephardic Jews who emigrated to Israel could be counted among those seeking justice for all, on the grounds that they are discriminated against by the dominant Ashkenazi. As far as I know, those Sephardic Jews who opposed the creation of a Zionist state in Palestine, or objected to the more extreme practices of that state, either stayed where they belonged or left for Europe and North America. Indeed a number of them ardently and intelligently supported the Palestinian struggle. On the other hand, discrimination against the Sephardic Jews within Israel did not turn them into sympathisers with the Palestinian cause. Unfortunately, the poor and discriminated against are not always the best allies of their like. Narrow sectorial interests and ideological clap-trap often prevents such an alliance from taking place: witness the conflicts between blacks and Latinos in the US, or the ardour with which the working class supported imperialism in pre-war Britain. More to the point: aren't Israel's Sephardic Jews the section which most heavily tips the electoral balance in favour of the ultra-chauvinist, ultra-Zionist Likud? The main point in Said's third article is, I think, that though many of the Israeli 'new historians' still say that the Zionist conquest of Palestine was "a necessary conquest", they are at last beginning to face up to Israel's real history. It is therefore important for Arab intellectuals to interact directly with those new historians, "by having them invited to discussions in Arab universities, cultural centres, and public fora," and for Arab intellectuals to take the reverse route to Israeli universities and centres to enlist as many supporters as possible. In the fourth article, Said categorically asserts that there is no way for Palestinians to gain their rights without actively involving Israelis in the struggle, and consequently concludes that we must take our cause to the Israeli wilaya, and do so without any complexes about speaking to the 'enemy'. And in the fifth article, he says that it would be facetious to impose the total blockades against everything Israeli which are "now in fashion in progressive circles. Obviously, to do so would be to ignore all the many victories for justice that occurred because of non-violent political cooperation between like-minded people on both sides of a highly contested and movable line." Let me begin my response to these remarks by Edward Said, by stating categorically that I have no objection whatsoever to Arabs residing abroad engaging Israelis of whatever political persuasion in debate, dialogue and so on, preferably in public, provided this does not entail travel to Israel. I may even boast that I may have been one of the first Arabs to do so in 1948, following the creation of Israel, when I represented the Arab side at an Edinburgh University Student Union debate on this event. On that occasion, I recall that we attacked Israel not only as a necessarily expansionist entity, but also as a device created by Western imperialism with which to split the Arab world and thus maintain its domination over the region. I argued that I personally was willing to concede to the Jews whatever amount of the land of Palestine they considered their home, if they could wrap it up and tow it away to some far-off place in the Atlantic or Pacific. I am not sure that I would now use the same debating point, but it was well received by the British audience, for it showed not only a complete lack of 'anti-Semitism', but a willingness to help solve a problem which was initially created by European fanaticism. I might also add that one inevitably meets with all sorts of Israelis in international conferences and that I personally am careful not to appear boorish towards them. Occasionally, one comes across the progressive, fair and courageous Israeli whom Said rightly admires, and who seeks to establish some sort of permanent relation with someone whom he perceives as a like-minded Arab, always using the argument that it will strengthen the camp of peace and justice in Israel. I invariably decline and civilly explain why. I will return to the reasons I give below. Again, I have no doubt that the Arab Israelis, as well as the Palestinians living under Israeli occupation, have every right, and even duty, to engage every Israeli they can get hold of, of whatever origin or persuasion, and in whatever forum they can find, even in shops, cafés and on street corners, in protracted and insistent debate, not only about what happened to them and their families in the past, but also about the intolerable and unlawful conditions under which they live, and about what justice, respect for human rights and for international law, and all the other lofty principles of human conduct so dear to Edward Said and indeed to us all, can bring to all concerned. I am sure they never tire of doing so: even prisoners can and do make moral appeals from the depths of their cells to their jailers, and the Palestinians in Israel and the Occupied Territories are, most of them, no physical prisoners; they are forced to encounter the Israelis and argue with them at every step they take, for every shred of their rights and for every morsel of their food. They have lived their own past and continue to live their present, and they know both better and can argue their case better than anyone living outside. Not only do they have the weight of their own immediate experience and sensibility to bring to bear, but they are far from lacking in the arts of persuasion and the powers of reason. I have met many of them, in person, on TV screens, or in writings and poems. These captive Palestinians (in Israel or in the occupied lands) form a great human reservoir which is willing to interact sympathetically and at all levels with any Israelis who can perceive their plight and join hands with them to change it. Why then don't these "new historians" and others, true lovers of true peace and justice, whom Edward Said describes and distinguishes from the likes of the Copenhagen Group, the Peace Now movement and the 'labour' party, concentrate on joining forces with those who are most intimately concerned by the consequences of their work and whom they have closest to hand? There may be two dozen Israeli Jews at most who are totally and practically committed, each in his own way, to the Palestinian cause. But what about the hundreds, mostly artists, writers and scholars, who seem to be committed, but concentrate their main efforts on building bridges with the outside -- preferably Arab -- world, rather than on working with what I would call their natural Palestinian constituency or with their fellow Israeli Jews? There may be a number of reasons for this. On the one hand, insidious police control over everything relating to Palestinians may well make working effectively with them too dangerous for liberated Israelis to contemplate. On the other, the atmosphere of bigotry prevailing among the Israeli population may make attempting to convert them to a truly fair and just stance towards the Palestinians seem a hopeless task. In this context, for enlightened Israelis to turn to forming foreign public opinion, especially among like-minded Arabs, might appear a valid surrogate for solid political action at home. Establishing normal working relations with Arabs would ease their domestic task, since it would show that Israelis are not totally rejected in the area, whatever they may say or do. My habitual answer to this argument, in the few international encounters I have had with such persons (never in a context deliberately established for discussing Israeli-Arab relations) was that, given our understanding of Israel's aims and practices, and of the weakened Arab position, boycott is one of the few weapons remaining with which we can resist Israel's hegemonic designs. Given how enlightened these enlightened Israelis are, Arab refusal to establish normal relations with them should not discourage them from continuing the good work they are already embarked upon. The argument, usually advanced by expatriate Arab scholars, that there can be bona fide forms of scholarly, literary and artistic exchange with Israelis who are well-known for their enlightened stance regarding the Palestinians and other Israeli-Arab questions, shows an understandable lack of comprehension regarding the present state of Arab public opinion on all levels of society. Where would the line be drawn, and who would draw it, between bona fide spokesmen/women on either side, and those who are keen on establishing relations for other reasons -- and there are many -- than serving the noble cause of 'just', 'comprehensive' and 'lasting' peace? And what would be the effect of such contacts and relationships, which are usually highly publicised, especially by the Israeli media, on the mass of the people whom Edward Said is not at present -- as he makes abundantly clear -- inviting to indulge in normalisation? We should not deceive ourselves: after so many years of mind control by authoritarian public information machinery, there is a lot of confusion, both among the 'masses' and the 'elite', regarding the nature of Arab relations with Israel. What has not been undermined by crafty official propaganda, may be swept away by the economic necessity which, under the now prevailing conditions, drives thousands of Egyptians, manual workers, craftsmen and educated young men alike, to seek work in Israel, notwithstanding the various official and unofficial obstacles that are put in their way. Even with my meagre experience of practical matters, I can personally testify to some of the countless holes that are being driven through the dykes which Arab patriots spent so many of their years building and maintaining. At a dinner, a relative of mine who used to work for the Arab League and who apparently knows nothing of where I stand on the matter, boasted that Israeli experts were helping him improve his orchard. To my involuntary harsh reproach, he calmly replied, "I did not import them from Israel, our own Ministry of Agriculture supplied them. Besides, do we not always proclaim that the Americans, Israel's main backers, are our close friends, who supply us with grain, machinery and weapons? If a boycott is in the national interest, why do we start with the agent and hold our tongue regarding the principal?" At another level, a kindly, pious and upright plumber tried to convince me that some Israeli gadgets were the best and cheapest on the market. I wonder what hair-raising stories informed officials and hardened businessmen can tell along these lines, and what the situation will be like if, as a consequence of well-meaning exhortations like Said's, Israel is able to unleash its cultural and economic 'interests' on the Arab world before it has conceded even those minimal rights now officially considered both necessary and sufficient for the establishment of normal relations. I fully agree with Said's precept that it is important to carry our moral war inside the enemy's camp, to win over those sympathisers and helpers who are amenable to moral persuasion, and embarrass or even neutralise others who are not so sensitive to moral considerations. However, I fail to see why establishing relations, say between Egyptian or Lebanese universities, research centres, artistic circles and so on, and their Israeli counterparts, is necessary in order to accomplish this task. Are there not enough capable Arabs in Israel, in occupied Palestine, in the US and elsewhere outside the Arab world to do that? Besides, or perhaps more importantly, I find the examples cited by Said singularly inappropriate. Yes, the Vietnamese worked very hard and cleverly on American public opinion. But they would not have been so successful had they not worked a great deal harder still on fighting their enemy and on inflicting unbearable losses on them. Give me an Arab 'Tet Offensive' similar to the one the Vietnamese carried out on Saigon in 1968 and I pledge myself to preach peace and human fraternity in Tel-Aviv. The whites whom the South African liberation movement fraternised with and took to their bosom were not just parlour revolutionaries: they smuggled weapons to the ANC across the borders and hid 'wanted' ANC revolutionaries in their homes, or smuggled them outside the reach of the South African police, and they often paid dearly, in liberty and even life, for their solidarity. Even then, though undoubtedly important, their support was not the operative factor: much more important was the fact that African freedom fighters, instead of indulging in random killings, went about systematically destroying power stations, mines and factories and strategic means of transport, which were the real source of the hold which white South Africans as well as American and European investors had on the country. It was this, and not just a moral conversion, which finally persuaded American and European investors to put some sort of pressure on the Apartheid regime. The lessons to be drawn from the Indian example are somewhat different. Indians resorted to peaceful demonstrations in 1919. Three hundred and seventy nine Indians were shot dead and 1200 wounded in Amritsar and no tangible political gains were achieved. The civil disobedience movement that followed was neither as civil nor as peaceful as its name makes it sound in retrospect. It preached self-sufficiency and doing away with everything except the satisfaction of what later came to be called 'basic needs', thus undermining British commercial interests in India. It was led by a shrewd and saintly man surrounded by like-minded colleagues, not by Mr. Arafat and Co. Its path was soaked with blood, thanks to brutish British repression. Yet, until the end of the Second World War, it made few significant political gains. Only when Britain emerged from the war in reality, that is in economic terms, more defeated than victorious, when its vast possessions all over the world were afire with violent national liberation movements, when a labour government was elected in Britain which could not at the same time fight for empire on all fronts and satisfy the economic expectations of its electors, and when, in the glow of the end-of-war atmosphere world public opinion began to turn against old forms of imperial domination -- none of which conditions are satisfied in the context of the present American-Israeli-Arab conflict -- only then did Britain concede political independence to India. Having thus explained my disagreements with Edward Said, I do not know how to end this article. One compulsively re-reads the first of the series of five, entitled "Time for a New Beginning". In this text, Said comes up with a series of eminently useful and practical proposals: disadvantaged Palestinians must be helped in order to stop them from working on the construction of Israeli settlements; the whole matter of civil disobedience needs to be re-examined (he thinks, without explaining why, that the Intifada cannot be repeated); a sustained series of peaceful marches on settlements under construction, exercises in blocking traffic and demonstrations must be considered. He explains ways and means for ensuring the success of such resistance, insisting that "we have to plan for what we can do and for what we can win." His proposals are based on a realistic assessment of the international situation. And yet, at the same time, he agrees with Daniel Barenboim that "the only real avenue for reconciliation is culture, not politics, not economics." But politics is to do with power: of one people over another, or one class over another. Economics is to do with the basis and aims of this power: the mastery -- or lack thereof -- over the material means of existence. How, then, could politics and economics be side-tracked in any attempt at reconciliation between the victors and the vanquished, between the appropriators and the appropriated? Yet the really disquieting thing is that, as we progress from one article to the other, the role of cultural understanding looms larger and larger, while that of resistance, which has so much to do with politics and economics, recedes. So much so, that one is reminded of Sadat's unforgettable dictum about the "psychological barrier" to peace between the two peoples. I am not suggesting for one second that Said's argument belongs to the same school of thought. Perhaps, as an unparalleled master of both subjects, he simply wanted to explore the complex relationship between conflict and culture. Perhaps then it was merely an oversight on his part, that he failed to remind the reader of the importance for cultural analysis of those sciences which treat directly of power. For without the imbalance of power, there would be no conflict in the first place. *The writer is professeor emeritus of political economy and former chairman of the Middle East Research Centre, Ain Shams University.
