Where the World's Richest Nation sends its foreign aid

I came across this interesting graph at the blog Aid Watchers, a blog I want to write a separate post about soon(ish). The blurring of the names of some of countries with the largest numbers of poor people contrasts jarringly with the amount of aid that goes to places where the United States has a strategic/military/political interest. Interestingly, Israel doesn't appear because it is not a developing country, but if it did, it would be second only to Iraq. India, though it constitutes a sixth of the world's population and has a high percentage of the global poor, receives very little. Food for thought.  

Peace Now are NOT Responsible for the Dubai Assassination

For those who, um, thought that they might be..

On Diversity within Religious Traditions

From Amartya Sen's book, 'The Argumentative Indian':

Many of my childhood years were spent in my grandparents' home at Santiniketan, where I studied at the school that Rabindranath Tagore had established and where my grandfather, Kshiti Mohan Sen, taught. He was, among other things, a well known Sanskritist, and he was also a major expert on Hinduism, focusing both on its formidable classical heritage and on the medieval religious literature and other devotional poetry. We did not have any religious rituals at home, but my grandparents had fairly firm religious convictions, in line with a contemplative and rather non-ceremonial version of Hinduism... 

Since my childhood thoughts - for what they were worth - did not attract me at all to religion, I asked my grandfather whether I should be concerned that religion did not appeal to me. He told me, 'No, in fact there is no case for having religious convictions until you are able to think seriously for yourself - it will come with time.' Since, in my case, it did not come at all (my scepticism seemed to mature with age), I told my grandfather, some years later, that he had been absolutely wrong. 'Not at all,' replied my grandfather, 'you have addressed the religious question, and you have placed yourself, I see, in the atheistic - the Lokayata - part of the Hindu spectrum!'

Obviously there are many differences between the Hindu and Jewish religious traditions. But the tension that Sen describes does resonate: On one hand, there are those (religious and secular) who view religion as a kind of creed to which one either subscribes or does not. On the other, there are those who recognise religious traditions as being broad and rich, containing within them multiple, irreconcilably conflicting, (sometimes) competing perspectives on even the most fundamental of religious questions.

Asarah B'Tevet: Remembering the Siege

Today of all days seems an appropriate one to recall a brutal siege that took place in the Land of Israel.

And that continues to take place as I write. This siege began more than two years ago, and has utterly devastated the people of the Gaza Strip.

A few facts about the effects of Israel's siege on Gaza, as Jews fast to remember another siege, some two-and-a-half thousand years ago:

- 10,000 people in Gaza have no running water; 40,000 people are cut off from electricity, and power outages for eight hours, four times per week are common in most homes.

- Unemployment in the third quarter of 2009 in Gaza was 42.3%

- School supplies are permitted to enter Gaza only if they are designated for UNRWA (and even then, they have been delayed for months). The other two-thirds of Gazan schools, responsible for the education of nearly a quarter of a million children, must do without.

- Industrial diesel for electricity production is permitted to enter Gaza only up to the 'minimum threshold' declared by the Israeli High Court--this was enough, in the month of November, to cover 39.1% of the population's needs.

- 97% of Gaza factories have been idle for the last two years

- Since last year's 'war,' only 19 trucks have been permitted to enter Gaza with construction materials. This despite the fact that, during the war, 3,500 houses were destroyed and 56,000 damaged.

- Only foods that have been designated as not constituting 'luxury items' are permitted to enter Gaza. But no list is available, nor has any explanation been provided as to the seemingly arbitrary prohibitions and permissions. Honey and canned fruits are forbidden, as was tea, until it was suddenly permitted. Pasta has been permitted since February. Small packets of margarine are permitted, whilst large ones are forbidden.

For more information and data, see the Gisha website.

And perhaps we should ask ourselves, while commemorating a fast for a siege that took place millenia ago: Will this siege be easily forgotten by its victims?

On Copenhagen

Hundreds of the world's leaders meet in an unprecedented forum; millions of dollars are spent; weeks of negotiations about a threat that faces the population of the entire planet culminate in what seems more like a collective statement of vague principles than the legally binding, enforceable set of standards that many had hoped for. And yet, I can't help but feel that it wasn't so terribly bad.

Firstly, and perhaps most importantly, Copenhagen triggered some significant achievements in terms of global activism. I can't help but feel that perhaps for this alone, the conference was worthwhile. The challenge of climate change—like other important global issues—is going to need grass-roots activism to take place around the world. And Copenhagen saw at least two unprecedented moves in this direction: An unprecedented newspaper editorial that was run by over fifty different newspapers, in 20 different languages, around the world. And the largest petition in the history of the world, organised by Avaaz.

The deal wasn't what most activists had hoped for. There was much fighting—both between richer countries and poorer countries, and amongst the poorer countries themselves, whose interests are of course, not identical: Some are oil rich and have an interest in retaining their thriving industries; others, most notably India, China and Brazil, are powerful, emerging economies; still others, like Vanuatu, are small island states that face the possibility of being wiped off the map unless a good enough agreement is both reached and enforced.

The agreement at Copenhagen is not sufficient. About that there is no doubt. But, even though time is indeed precious, what has now taken place is an important start. And, as has been pointed out, the spirit of willingness and cooperation amongst some of the biggest polluters is, ultimately, more important than a legally binding document. After all, who would enforce such a document on the biggest polluting countries? If, once legal commitments are made, China or India or the US were to decide to breach their obligations, what international mechanism would be able to prevent them from doing so? It would seem, then, that a genuine desire for change might be as important, or perhaps more important, than legally binding documents. And so, the seemingly genuine spirit of understanding of the fact that something must be done, and the emerging willingness to invest some of the resources of the world's biggest economies in green technologies, may indeed be cause for some very, very cautious optimism.

In Support of One State (Sort of) – Part III: Jewish Nationalism in a One-State Reality

This is the third and last post on this topic. So far, I have argued (in part I) that a democratic one-state arrangement in the land between the Jordan and the Mediterranean is almost inevitable at this stage. (Of course, a one-state reality already exists, but it is not democratic). In part II, I argued that there are potential advantages and benefits in some imaginable democratic one-state scenarios, and that proponents and opponents alike should be thinking about these and working to ensure that they come about, if and when such a situation arises.

In this post, I want to refute the oft-recited mantra which says that a one-person-one-vote situation would automatically spell 'the end of the Zionist enterprise', that it would necessarily constitute an end to the story of Jewish nationalism. Some pragmatic considerations have been discussed in the previous two posts—this one is about ideas and theory.

Though a one-state arrangement has indeed often been advocated by opponents of Zionism, a democratic one-state situation need not undermine a either Jewish national identity and culture, nor a belief in Jewish self-determination. In other words: One can be a Jewish nationalist and believe in a one-state, democratic arrangement between the river and the sea.

“What? How is that possible? Isn't it an obvious contradiction?” I already hear you ask. And that is the shame of the matter. I shouldn't have to write this post: From its inception, the Zionist movement was a 'wide tent' that included both statist and some non-statist conceptions of Jewish nationalism. But so deeply embedded has a particular kind of political, statist Zionism become in the minds of so many people, that few remember that, in fact, there is a long history of Jewish nationalist approaches which conceived of Jewish nationhood and self-determination differently.

I am not, of course, talking about those who have tidily, but wrongly, defined Jewish identity in terms parallel to 'Christian identity'—a matter of religious conviction, and perhaps communal affiliation, usually with no national dimension. The national element of Jewish identity is, to my mind, undeniable. I am also not talking about those who deny any positive value to the flourishing of national identities in their pursuit of some kind of universal, cosmopolitan, post-national utopia. That is, in my opinion, both unrealistic and undesirable: The things that divide human beings, although sometimes sources of conflict, are often enriching at personal, communal, and global levels, and most people in the world feel a strong attachment to their particular identities.

Rather, I am referring to important Jewish thinkers for whom Jewish national identity was central, whilst the expression of that identity through a state 'owned' by the Jewish people has not: Ahad Ha'am, Shimon Dubnow, Martin Buber, Judah Magnes, Shimon Rawidowicz, and others. There is, of course, a spectrum of different non-statist Jewish nationalist approaches: Some, like Ahad Ha'am and Buber, were Zionists. Others, such as Dubnow and the Bund, were not Zionists, but were nevertheless Jewish nationalists. I want to present here a brief summary of some of the views of Ahad Ha'am, considered by many to be the 'father' of Cultural Zionism. Greater familiarity with his approach, which, of course, considerably pre-dated the establishment of the State of Israel, might help some who care deeply about Jewish nationalism come to ideological terms with the possibility (or probability) that we will soon find ourselves living in a reality in which Jewish hegemony is no longer a given.

Unlike his political Zionist counterparts from Western Europe—chiefly, Herzl and Nordau—Ahad Ha'am did not believe that 'Jewish Sovereignty' was possible in the near future; nor did he think that, if a Jewish state did come into existence, it would solve the most important problems facing the Jewish people at a national level. Responding over 100 years ago to the ideological atmosphere at the first Zionist Congress, Ahad Ha'am expressed frustration at the fact that many Western European Zionist leaders seemed obsessed with advocating a misguided solution to the wrong problem.

Ahad Ha'am distinguished between the major problems facing Jews in Western Europe—which he called the 'problem of the Jews'; and those facing Jews in Eastern Europe—in Ahad Ha'am's terminology, 'the problem of Judaism.' Western European Jews, claimed Ahad Ha'am, were unhappy that they were unable to fully integrate into the societies in which they lived, and that they continued to face discrimination despite their best efforts.

The problem of Jews in the East, meanwhile, was a different one. In the West, Jews had left the ghetto, resulting in a desire to fully realise their integration. In the East, however, Jews remained a separate national group, living a distinct communal life. Exchanging their national identity for another wasn't a real option. But for them, modernity had hit as well, just differently; for them, the Jews remained separate, but Judaism had come out of the ghetto. Judaism was facing a crisis in the face of new ideas and concepts, which were now making themselves at home in the heart of a national culture that was Jewish. The serious challenge facing Eastern European Jews was how to adapt Jewish national culture to the religious and philosophical crisis brought about by modernity.

The solution offered by political Zionists such as Nordau and Herzl to the problem as they saw it, was to create a state of the Jews' own. This, they claimed, would solve the 'Jewish problem': Jews will rule over themselves and will no longer face the humiliation of being outsiders. But Ahad Ha'am rejected that idea: You can't integrate as you would like into Western society, he claimed, and so you want to create your own version of it elsewhere.

Instead, Ahad Ha'am was focused on offering a solution to the 'Jewish problem' as he saw it; that is, the 'problem of Judaism'. Instead of national sovereignty, a 'state of our own', his vision involved the creation of a national cultural centre in the Jewish homeland. In this centre Hebrew would be spoken, written and read, and there would be Jewish universities, schools, and other institutions in which Jews could live, learn and thrive, enriching Jewish national culture and radiating it to the communities of the Jewish diaspora all over the world. It would serve as the 'heart' of the body of the Jewish nation, which would remain, of course, mostly in diaspora.

So Ahad Ha'am's disagreement with political Zionism was partly ideological: Herzl envisioned a Jewish State in which Jews wouldn't suffer discrimination; Ahad Ha'am envisioned a Jewish Society that would bring about a renaissance of Jewish national culture. But Ahad Ha’am’s disagreement with political Zionism was also in part a product of his realism. It’s impossible, he argued, that the majority of Jews will come to a newly revived Jewish homeland; millions of Jews are not going to up and leave their homes in such a short space of time. Furthermore, he argued, the land of Israel is already populated. There are Arabs living there, and they, too, will grow in number. They won't necessarily take well to the idea of a Jewish state being established on top of them, and will likely present a serious—and justified—opposition.

Thus, for Ahad Ha'am, Jewish statehood was both unrealistic—because of Arab opposition and because of Jewish dispersion—and not worthy of being a first priority, because it wouldn't solve the major problems facing the Jewish people: The 'problem of the Jews' wouldn't realistically be solved by trying to move millions of people from their homes to a place with an existing population who, in the unlikely event that such a mass influx happened, would not be happy about it, to put it mildly. The 'problem of Judaism', of course, also wouldn't be helped simply by creating a polity ruled by Jews; that problem needed to be addressed at the substantive, cultural level. Statehood couldn't deliver that: it was (and is) neither a sufficient nor even a necessary condition for Jewish culture to flourish in its homeland.

And so, Ahad Ha'am advocated his vision of a Jewish national centre in Israel. A centre that would not be inhabited by the majority of Jews, but which would be the cultural centre of the Jewish nation worldwide. This solution, with or without statehood, would contribute to Jewish national culture and its flourishing in a modern reality.

That is what Ahad Ha'am argued then. And today, too, a Hebrew-speaking Jewish cultural centre in the Land of Israel can continue to make that contribution, regardless of the number of states that exist between the river and the sea.

Don't destroy his house

This week saw permission finally given for the media to publicise the identity of Jacob Teitel, a Jewish terrorist arrested about a month ago for his involvement in a series of attacks and attempted attacks against Arabs, left-wing Jews, messianic Jews, and possibly also homosexuals.

Responses have been more or less predictable. Many settlers and their supporters have focussed their responses less on the deeds allegedly carried out by Teitel than on countering the supposed left-wing tarnishing of all settlers with Teitel's brush. Some have made the absurd comparison to Assaf Goldring, a depressed, mentally unstable father who murdered his own child. It makes no more sense, they say, to talk about the 'settlers' and their values in discussing Teitel, than it does to talk about the 'secular' and their principles in relation to Goldring. Of course, the comparison is nonsensical. Goldring's disgusting actions stemmed from a combination of mental instability and personal strife; his motivations were not political. There is indeed no association between 'secular values' and his actions.

Teitel's activities, on the other hand, were motivated by a set of values held passionately by many within his community and those like it. One need only walk into any shul in Israel, and peruse one of the many pamphlets on the weekly Torah portion, in order to get an idea of the kind of vitriol that is seen as acceptable within many/most religious-Zionist communities. These same values, this same hatred, motivated Teitel. True, most people who share his worldview do not express their views through violence. But there is an ideological climate that cannot be ignored.

Some of the leaders of the so-called Israeli left and centre, for their part, have proven once again their hypocrisy—and possibly their racism—when it comes to dealing with terrorists. Where are the calls to destroy the terrorist's family's home? Just last year, when a Palestinian terrorist from Jabel Mukaber massacred students in the Merkaz Harav yeshiva, then- (and now-) defence minister, Ehud Barak, not only called for the terrorist's family's home to be destroyed; he called for the legal processes involved to be adjusted so that the house could be destroyed more quickly (http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/spages/1009167.html). Where are those calls now? Is the defence minister unable to arrange for the destruction of a house of the family of a terrorist who is Jewish? Does his family have rights that the Merkaz Harav terrorist's family does not?

Of course, I don't think the houses of Teitel's family should be destroyed. If they were involved in his activities, then they should stand trial just as he will, and face the consequences of their actions as mandated by the law. If they weren't involved, then to destroy their homes as a 'deterrent' to potential future terrorists, whether effective or not, would be a gross violation of their human rights. Just as it would be a gross violation of their rights to destroy their homes if they, and Teitel himself, were Arabs. This is known as the rule of law; it's held in quite high esteem in some places.