Hodgepodge 167/365 - Book Report (My Promised Land)

My Promised Land: The Triumph and Tragedy of Israel, by Ari Shavit (2013) (4/10/17)

I shlepped this book all through Israel and Italy, reading it in small doses, learning about the complexity (one might say schizophrenia) of that fascinating country even while I was looking out the bus windows at the passing landscape of the place itself. I finally finished it on the plane ride home.

It's an excellent, conflicted, passionate book about an impossible idea-become-reality, the salvation and homeland for Jews worldwide, written by a former columnist for Israel's Haaretz newspaper. One of the strengths of the book is the actual people who populate it, from Shavit's own great-grandfather, one of the original Zionist settlers, to current-day Israeli professors and politicians and scientists and club owners and businessmen and ultra-Orthodox Jews, to Palestinians who are being pushed from their land. Another is Shavit's moral intelligence and his willingness to look at uncomfortable contradictions and exigencies straight on.

The structure of the book is chronological, beginning with the arrival of the Zionists in 1897 and the establishment of the seminal colony of Ein Harod in 1921. Shavit describes the elevation of mythic Masada and the destruction of Palestinian Lydda in 1948; the establishment of the new Jewish state and subsequent conflicts, with associated needs for self-defense; and the diversity of faces, and of strengths and weaknesses, of the modern state.

His assessments are wise and beautifully written. Here is one paragraph that looks back to the beginnings of Israel and the Zionist project in an effort to clarify the present-day place:

The act of concentrating the Jews in one place was essential but dangerous. If another historic disaster were to strike here, it might be the last. The founding fathers and mothers of Zionism realized this. They knew they were leading one of the most miserable nations in the world to one of the most dangerous places in the world. That's why they were so demanding of themselves and of others. That's why they acted in such a shrewd and resourceful and disciplined manner. They knew that their mission was superhuman, as was the responsibility thrust upon them. But over the years, it was not possible to maintain such a high level of revolutionary discipline. It wasn't possible to maintain the devotion, precision, and commitment. The following generations lost the historical perspective and the sense of responsibility. They were fooled by the Zionist success story and they lost sight of the existential risk embodied in the Zionist deed. Gradually they lost the concentration and caution required of those walking a tightrope over an abyss. As resolve waned and wisdom dissipated, there was no longer a responsible adult to lead the children's crusade. A movement that got most things right in its early days has gotten almost everything wrong in recent decades.

It's difficult to pull out relevant portions and have them make sense, without the rest of the long, convoluted story of Israel as background. But that passage gives a sense of Shavit's wise questioning.

He concludes by describing three concentric circles of threat that close in on the Jewish state. They are (1) the Islamic circle (the external circle)—"Israel's very existence as a sovereign non-Islamic entity in a land sacred to Islam and surrounded by Islam that creates the inherent tension between the tiny Jewish nation and the vast Islamic world"; (2) the Arab circle—"The Arab national movement tried to prevent the founding of Israel—and failed. The Arab nations tried to destroy Israel—and failed. As such, the very existence of Israel as a non-Arab nation-state in the Middle East is testimony to the failure of Arab nationalism"; (3) the Palestinian circle—"Israel is perceived by its neighbors to be a settler's state founded on the ruins of indigenous Palestine. Many Palestinians perceive Israel as an alien, dispossessing colony that has no place in the land. The underlying wish of a great number of Palestinians is to turn back the political movement that they blame for shattering their society, destroying their villages, emptying their towns, and turning most of them into refugees." In recent years, Shavit observes, these three circles of threat have merged, creating ever more threat for Israel and ever more pressure for Israel to stand firm in resistance.

He also identifies a moral threat to Israel: "A nation bogged down in endless warfare can be easily corrupted. It might turn fascist or militaristic or just brutal. Surprisingly, Israelis have generally upheld democratic values and institutions while being in a permanent state of war," but that identity is constantly being challenged. And finally, he points to the threat of crumbling identity: "At the core of the Zionist revolution was an identity revolution. . . . Now it is all falling apart. Our new fierce identity is disintegrating into a multitude of identities, some of which are frail and confused. At times we do not recognize ourselves anymore. We are not sure who we really are."

He ends on an uplifting note, however, speaking of the "ongoing adventure," the "odyssey" that is the state of Israel—a nation unique on the face of the planet, without a doubt.

There will be no utopia here. Israel will never be the ideal nation it set out to be, nor will it be Europe-away-from-Europe. There will be no London here, no Paris, no Vienna. But what has evolved in this land is not to be dismissed. A series of great revolts has created here a truly free society that is alive and kicking and fascinating. This free society is creative and passionate and frenzied. It gives the ones living here a unique quality of life: warmth, directness, openness. Yes, we are orphans. We have no king and no father. We have no coherent identity and no continuous past. In a sense, we have no civic culture. Our grace is the semibarbaric grace of the wild ones. It is the youthful grace of the unbound and the uncouth. We respect no past and no future and no authority. We are irreverent. We are deeply anarchic. And yet, because we are all alone in this world, we stick together. Because we are orphans, we are brothers in arms and in fate.