On Gaza

I have been plagued with a strange guilt for having been unable, for the last three weeks to write about the horrifying conflict in Gaza. I, a student of political science, must have something to say? But it feels as though no-one with the ability to make a difference is even listening. Only the fringe voices appear to be speaking out: Moon, Kucinich, etc.  I then reminded myself, difficult though it maybe, silence equals consent. If I don't write about this, about my interpretations, and my feelings on the conflict, then I am letting these events happen in my name. In short, I become complicit and responsible for the atrocities.

I sat in the cafe today, reading, and trying to think of a hook. How to get at the heart of this conflict? I began to wonder how I would, were he old enough, explain this to my nephew. I imagined myself writing this beautiful child a letter, trying to explain why we do the things we do to each other. Explain, not as an excuse or apology, in a way his innocence would understand, and not be devastated. A tall order, to be sure.

I might begin this letter by arguing that each earthling on this planet is unique and beautiful, and fundamentally we defy classification, stereotype and logic. We are, non of us, born with anger in our minds, nor are we born racists, sexists or facists. To paraphrase Rousseau, we are born free of all this, it is not 'till later that we put on those chains. The point being, all of the physical and mental borders that exist between earthlings are pure constructions. They are not natural, nor are they necessary for our survival. We are, in a manner of speaking, free to cross them anytime, we just have to be able to see the other side for what it is, simply another way of doing things.

But the inquisitive mind might ask, then why do they exist, these borders and prejudices? This is the difficult part to answer, and as a caveat, I remind you that I am also someone subject to these tendencies and constructions, thus my answer, sure to be incorrect in someone's mind, is but my experience, tainted by my own ideological lens. I believe the answer to this question lies in our notion of power and to some degree, our belief in religious dogma and nationalism. Power, to give woefully short definition, is the ability to impose yourself on someone else without the use of physical coercion (the point in which weapons are introduced, power becomes terror and violence). An individual or an idea is only powerful so long as you go along with them or it. There is nothing inherent about power, and it can be taken away at any moment. Our problem has been, historically, that we value power as an attribute in Men (I chose to add gender here fully aware of what it implies), not as something to be fearful of. We do not recognize the fact that in consenting to an individuals power, we are in fact giving up our own power to that person. We are saying, "I am willing to let you control my fate and make my decisions for me".

This is our choice to make, and we do not have to make it that way. We can say no any time, though it is the more, much more, difficult choice, and often leads to extreme forms of violence. As I mentioned above, the moment power employs weapons to ensure its hegemony, it is corrupted and becomes violence. Unfortunately, when power is threatened, the response tends to be a violent one. When people stand up and say no! power is threatened. In some sense, this is precisely what happened in 2006 when the people of Gaza rejected Fatah and elected Hamas. They were not voting for terrorism, not for the destruction of the Israeli state, but they were simply saying no to a corrupt government that was failing them. Of course, by voting for Hamas, they unfortunately simply shifted the power from one side to the other, rather than reclaiming it for themselves. Tragically Hamas has also exploited this position to further its own goals, rather than really serve the voters.

The question of religious dogma and nationalism is really just an extension of the ideas I suggested above. Religion and national identity give people a sense of belonging to something, but the consent of the people means Religion and Nationalism have power. In demanding allegiance they create the physical and mental borders that lie at the root of conflict. They create unity in opposition to difference. This means we define ourselves by what we are not: I am American because I am not Palestinian, French, Canadian or Russian, etc... Furthermore, to consent to this position of being American (for example) we simultaneously reject all other possible identities. Rejection is then a suggestion that these other experiences are some how less relevant, less good. Thus we are willing to go to war, to crush those who are different. In short, the power of religious and national identity is in its ability to convince us of its importance, superiority, territorial claim and power. We are meant to believe that we are not safe without such subscriptions: the unfaithful end up in hell, or as Canadian citizens!

So, to my dear nephew I would say, there is war in the Levant because both Israel and Hamas are afraid of losing their power, they are afraid of each other, and the way they can convince themselves to remain loyal, to their respective ideologies, is to directly confront the other, to prove that they are superior, and in the event of a defeat, they can play the victim card. I don't support Hamas, but I don't support Israel either. I support peace. I think war is unnatural and always unnecessary. The people of the Levant should do the same. They should reclaim their individual power, and realize, in doing so, they can co-exist. They are simply kept apart by artificial notions of power, faith and national identity. There is a choice, there is always a choice.

For the fact that there is always a choice, the situation is all the more tragic.