Zionism in Arab discourses

Preface

Every book has its moment of birth. This book’s moment was, perhaps, a few years ago, when a Jordanian-Palestinian friend of the authors finally managed to secure a visa for a short visit to Israel. These were memorable days. Together we explored the Old City of Jerusalem, walked along the seashore of Tel Aviv and visited the street in Jaffa from which our friend’s grandmother had been forced to flee in 1948. For years our friend, a peace-loving Arab patriot and devout Muslim, had encountered Israel on a daily basis through the Jordanian and pan-Arab media. Israel was so close geographically – yet so distant in all other respects; just as Jordan was for us, until our first visit there. For our friend, seeing Israel at first hand for the first time, some things were a disappointment, while others impressed him. We were intrigued to notice, for example, how astonished our friend was when he saw Arab Israelis on the boulevards of Tel Aviv. The experience forced us to reflect on a sad truth: given that so few Israelis visit Arab countries, and even fewer Arabs visit Israel, for most individuals on both sides of the borders the ‘other’ exists only as an imagined construct. In the Arab–Israeli conflict, the imagined is, in a sense, more real than any reality.

What follows is a study of Zionism and Israel as imagined entities in the writings of two ideological forces within Arab societies – Islamists and liberals. Starting with late nineteenth-century writings, but focusing primarily on the period from the Six Day War to the Arab Spring, this book explores how Arab Islamist and liberal ideologists and activists have treated one of the most remarkable and least predictable success stories of the twentieth century, which has also become one of the gravest tragedies of the Arab world, and of the Palestinian people in particular.

The book makes a comparative analysis of the relation between the political visions of Islamists and liberals and their conceptualizations of Zionism and Israel, exposing complex and nuanced views. Its main thesis is that the Zionist enterprise has played a dual function in the doctrines of both Arab Islamists and liberals: on the one hand, it is an enemy; on the other hand, a role model. As an enemy – or at the very least, an adversary – its victories on the battlefield and in the diplomatic arena have attested to the failures of Arab regimes and to the essentiality of embracing alternative worldviews. In Islamist thought the Zionist enterprise has been portrayed as a brutal, criminal and depraved rival, whose annihilation will be attainable only through the establishment of Islamic political orders; however, Islamists have also conceded that certain pragmatic provisional arrangements can be reached with Israel. The liberals are split between a ‘peace camp’ and a ‘refusal camp’. The former, putting individual freedoms at the core of their agenda, have reached the conclusion that regardless of whether Zionism is legitimate, the realization of the liberal agenda requires a political compromise over Palestine; the latter, putting national independence at the core of their agenda, have stressed that only realization of the liberal agenda will allow Arabs to stand tall in the conflict against Zionism.

Another function of the Zionist enterprise in both Islamist and liberal thought has been that of a role model. The Zionist enterprise has been depicted as an ‘other’ that reflects values, methods of operation and institutions of which Arab societies should take heed. Islamists and liberals alike have discovered in Zionism and in Israeli society – or more precisely in Zionism and Israeli society as constructed by them to fit their specific agendas – qualities they have sought to implement in their own societies, whose shortcomings have been critically highlighted by interpretations of Zionist successes. Islamists have emphasized the religious (and more specifically religious-modern) essence of the Zionist movement, the cohesion and resourcefulness of Zionists, the meticulous plan that led to the establishment of the State of Israel, the Jewish diaspora’s support of the Zionist enterprise and the similitude between Israeli democracy and the democracy that Islamists wish to establish in Arab societies. Liberals have emphasized the pluralistic nature of Israeli society, the freedom of expression enjoyed by its citizens, its strong relations with the West, the pragmatism of its leaders and its scientific, technological and economic accomplishments.

The duality of the Zionist enterprise in the doctrines of Arab Islamists and liberals is not unique, but characterizes their views of the West in general. As analysed throughout this book, Islamists describe the West as a vicious and corrupt ‘other’, but also as a representative of certain Islamic ideals that need to be re-embraced in Muslim societies, while liberals describe the West as both a liberator and a conqueror, an ideological reference and imperialistic threat at the same time.

Islamism and liberalism enjoyed little actual political clout in Arab states throughout most of the twentieth century. The liberals never regained their influence after their bitter, short-lived hegemony in the 1920s and the 1930s came to an end. Maintaining an outlook that was condemned and declined, they remained marginal and despondent. Islamists have grown stronger since the 1970s but nevertheless have failed in nearly every struggle to attain tangible power. Following the string of uprisings that began in late 2010 and were named the Arab Spring, the fortunes of these ideologies appeared to change, at least for a while. The revolutionary wave started with the tragic demonstration of Muhammad al-Buʿazizi, a 26-year-old street vendor from Sidi Bouzid in Tunisia, who, on 17 December 2010, set himself on fire in protest at the confiscation of his cart. Al-Buʿazizi’s death ignited spontaneous mass protests that spread from Tunisia in a domino effect, especially to the republican-dynastic Arab regimes. The leaderships of Tunisia, Egypt, Libya and Yemen crumbled, while the Syrian regime was confronted by a colossal armed uprising. The liberal voice resonated loudly in the early days of the uprisings, yet, when first put to the electoral test, in Tunisia in October 2011 and in Egypt a month later, it was exposed as weak, divided and lacking any substantial popular base. Entering the arena of the Arab Spring at a later stage, Islamists won the first parliamentary elections in Tunisia and Egypt with a clear-cut, albeit not absolute, majority. In Tunisia, Islamists opted for national unity and consensus politics, and the newly established democratic regime in the country survived, though it remained fragile. In Egypt, Islamists also won the presidential race and a referendum on a new constitution, and sought to implement their agenda more rigorously. Their victories turned out to be a double-edged sword: in a military coup in July 2013, following mass demonstrations, they were desposed from power and their leaders were imprisoned. In elections held in Libya in July 2012, a coalition of relatively liberal movements – even though it was far from constituting a secular opposition – defeated the Islamists; the country remained unstable. In Yemen, the ousted president was succeeded by his deputy. As of late 2015, a transition to democracy was yet to occur. Predictions that liberal democracy – or the Islamist worldview – would sweep other Arab societies have thus far failed to materialize. The turbulent times of 2010–13 cannot be broadly defined as marking a rise – or rise and fall – of either Arab Islamism or Arab liberalism. It is in fact too early to define them in conclusive terms at all. Yet they have demonstrated that a plurality of worldviews competes for power in various Arab countries and have highlighted once again the importance of acquiring a deeper understanding of the contested ideological map of the Middle East.

The book is divided into five chapters. The introductory chapter discusses the theoretical precariousness of the terms ‘Arab Islamist’ and ‘Arab liberal’ and offers definitions of these ideologies and a brief chronology of their development. It also presents the methodology and anthology used in the research. Chapter 1 discusses the formation of the Islamist approach toward Zionism and Israel. It explores the treatment of Israel as an illegitimate entity and an enemy that should be eradicated, the reasons for the development of an Islamist consensus around this position and the pragmatic adjustments made by Islamist leaders and organizations with regard to Israel. Chapter 2 discusses Islamist depictions of Zionism and Israel as role models and analyses the reasons for the formation and acceptance of such interpretations. Chapter 3 discusses the evolution of diverse liberal approaches to the legitimization of the Zionist enterprise, peace agreements with Israel and normalization with it, and sheds light on the reasons for disagreements on these issues within the liberal camp. Chapter 4 discusses liberal interpretations that represent Zionism and Israel as role models, and analyses the reasons for the formation and acceptance of such interpretations.

Note on quotations

In direct quotations, comments by the authors of this book are enclosed in square brackets. Some of the terminology used in the book is politically charged. Thus, for instance, one person’s War of Independence is another’s nakba, or disaster. We have made an effort to use terminology that coincides with the views of the authors discussed, even when the excerpts are not a direct quote.

Introduction

Islamism and liberalism in the Arab world:

some theoretical remarks

This book regards Arab Islamism and liberalism as distinct political ideologies with all-encompassing views on the structure and appropriate roles of society and the state. The thesis presented here on the different functions of Israel and Zionism within these two ideologies refers to a protracted period of time and establishes several generalizations about the actions of individuals and groups in a vast geographic and linguistic space. Therefore, a preliminary examination of the validity of the terms ‘Arab Islamism’ and ‘Arab liberalism’, and of the methodology that has guided us, is necessary.

In the field of intellectual history, the potential caveat of superficiality should never be ignored. On the one hand, there exists the risk that the particular outlines of individuals and groups will be blurred through a broad and generalizing lens; on the other hand, there exists a fear of the equally superficial reversal of this reduction, a detailed discussion that overlooks shared historical foundations and the relationships that lie at the core of the formulation and implementation of ideas. Ideologicalpolitical currents have been a driving force throughout history; however, they are amorphous when compared to other forces, for example, political parties, the mere establishment of which draws clear boundaries for an analysis. Thus, the analytical merit of any discussion of an ideological current is determined by a delineation that is neither too wide nor too narrow. There are three conditions that define ‘ideology’ as an umbrella for thinkers and activists not necessarily belonging to one hierarchic organization: firstly, they must share similar views regarding fundamental issues that distinguish them from other groups; secondly, they must rely on a similar theoretical constitutive foundation; thirdly, they must engage with ideas articulated by other adherents of their ideology in a way that acknowledges the similarity of their views. The attainment of these three conditions may not spare the discussion from further difficulties, but it does render the reviewer immune from blanket generalizations and theoretical and analytical detachment.

These challenges are common to all studies of ideological movements that seek to influence political realities, yet their importance is paramount to the Arab linguistic and political space. Since the 1980s, the research pendulum has been vacillating between two competing, hostile and increasingly non-constructive perceptions of the validity of ‘Arabness’ (and more so of ‘Islam’) as the base for generalizations. At one end of the spectrum ‘the Arabs’ (or ‘the Muslims’) are written off as homogeneous, especially, but not exclusively, in media discussions. In this perspective, Marxists, Liberals, Islamists, salafis, nationalists and even opportunists are amalgamated, due to their shared linguistic, ethnic and religious identities; the Quran is perceived as insusceptible to reflexive interpretations or change; and the ‘Arab world’ (or Muslim world) is an active player and influential voice in history, capable of rage, resistance or reconciliation. This approach reduces ‘Arabs’ and ‘Muslims’ to replicable cardboard cut-outs.

Under the influence of the American-Palestinian thinker Edward Saʿid, the approach at the opposite end of the spectrum has been on the rise since the late 1970s. It rejects a general study whose framework is ‘Arabness’ or ‘Islam’, particularly if it can be interpreted as critical, and sees any such discourse as being part of an imperialist (or neo-imperialist) effort to establish hegemony and justify subjugation. According to this approach, ‘Arab’ or ‘Muslim’ spokespersons are fickle figments of the imagination, serving political and economic agendas. The major flaw of this approach is that it tempts researchers to stray from their mission to introduce something meaningful and shift toward the more comfortable yet futile statement that reality is too complex for anything of value to be said about it. It ignores the fact that alongside the dynamism and manifold layers of ‘Arabness’ there also exist geographic contiguity, shared historical experiences, a common tongue, joint religious elements and, especially, groups and institutions whose ideologies perceive ‘Arabness’ or ‘Islam’, or ‘Arabness’ and ‘Islam’, as genuine and fundamental concepts, thus granting social and political significance to these terms.

The key to balancing the two approaches is to adopt an approach that does not ignore the uniqueness of different groups at the state and sub-state levels, or the existence of ideologies that traverse these borders. The revolutions and the attempts at revolutions, for which the term ‘Arab Spring’ was coined, represent a recent example of why the balanced approach is essential. Research that will examine the events as a whole will miss the unique contexts leading to the upheavals in different Arab countries; the motivations of the demonstrators in Tahrir Square were not the same as those of the rebels fighting against the regime of al-Qadhafi, nor were the sequences of events leading to the downfalls of the Egyptian and Libyan despots. However, research that rejects ‘Arabness’ as one of the frameworks for comprehending the Arab Spring will miss significant insights. Throughout 2011, the uprisings in certain countries across the Arab world inspired and influenced others in the region, without spilling over into them. This was manifested in the following examples: activists adopted identical revolutionary phrases; pan-Arab television networks played an instrumental, albeit not decisive, role in fomenting or calming the revolutionary flames; the participants perceived themselves as partaking in an event that concerns Arabs everywhere; and the concentration of the revolutions in states ruled by the republican dynasties of the Arab world demonstrated resistance to a specific political reality that has distinctive Arab characteristics.

This balancing distinction also applies to the concepts of Islamism and liberalism. The analysis of Islamism as an ideological and political phenomenon from a pan-Arab (and even pan-Muslim) perspective is the topic of lively discussion. The term developed in Western studies in the early 1980s as a framework for understanding the emergence of movements that touted the Islamic flag in Arab societies, but was given different definitions, generating a wide spectrum of meanings and dulling its analytical value. Some defined granting a key role to Islam in organizing civil and social life, or the political use of Islam, as an expression of Islamism.¹ Others have characterized Islamism by the ideological goal of regulating society, culture and politics in accordance with Islam.² Still others have questioned the analytical value of the general discussion of Islamism as a phenomenon.³ Each of these approaches is not without flaws. The broad definition might lead to an absurd generalizing result; in contemporary Arab political thought, only a few do not grant Islam (in any form of its interpretation) a significant role, nor use Islamic ideas generously in order to gain legitimization. The narrower approach is still problematic. Defining Islamism by ideological goals, without addressing modes of operation and religio-legal approaches, artificially joins under one umbrella groups that are in strong contention and that rely, at least partially, on contradictory theoretical bases. On the other hand, abandoning this term altogether limits the ability to profoundly comprehend movements and individuals that have shared ideological roots and partake in an intellectual exchange with one another.

One of the sensitivities accompanying Islamism is that the term originates from Western researchers, some of whom employ a critical approach toward the phenomenon. A concern also exists about confusing Islam as a religion and Islamism as a particular interpretation of religion. Nevertheless, even though the notion is uncommon in Islamist writing itself, it is present⁴ and is not necessarily perceived as negative by its spokespersons.

We define Islamism, drawing from the definitions of Oliver Roy⁵ and Haydar Ibrahim ʿAli,⁶ as an ideology that views Islam as an exclusive political reference and political activism as the primary means to instate Islam as such. An Islamist is someone who connects the objectives of his ideology, which place the all-encompassing nature of Islam at their core, with a concrete political and social plan that he then tries to execute. The founding father of this ideology, albeit not its sole originator, is Hasan al-Banna (1906–49), who established the Muslim Brothers at the age of 22; his teachings still serve as a central theoretical reference for many contemporary Islamists. The main established spokespersons of Islamism under this definition are the Muslim Brothers movement and their affiliated movements in different Arab countries; yet some of its most prominent spokespersons are not, or have never been, official members of the movement.

The goal of Islamism, according to al-Banna’s designs, is to instigate a revolution. This revolution has three dimensions: a return to the sovereignty of Islam over all aspects of life; gradually re-establishing the Muslim nation as a viable political framework; and dispelling Western hegemony over Islamic societies.⁷ The Islamist loyal to al-Banna’s teachings seeks to replace the non-Islamic political order by an Islamic one through the creation of a hierarchical organization that promotes an array of social and indoctrinating activities, from welfare to sports. In principle, the Islamist who follows al-Banna does not rule out violence as a way to overcome enemies of the revolution; however, he sees it as a last resort and believes that prolonged, multi-faceted appeals to hearts and minds will ultimately lead to the establishment of the rule of Islam.⁸

The development of the Muslim Brothers from the fall of the Ottoman Empire to the twilight of pan-Arab socialism in the early 1970s can be roughly divided into two main stages. In the first stage, from its formation in Egypt in 1928 until the mid-1950s, the movement was based in Egypt and branches were established in other Arab countries. As compared to rival ideologies, Islamism gained popular support, but did not achieve a critical mass in any country that would allow it to gain control, whether through the voting booth or through violence. In the second stage, from the mid-1950s until after the Six Day War in 1967, Islamism was overrun by Nasserist and Baʿthist revolutions, and also failed to gain support within the conservative monarchies that did not witness revolutions.

After the decline of pan-Arabism, from the 1970s to the Arab Spring, Islamist movements grew stronger, increasing their influence in matters of society and culture, but had yet to take over the government of any Arab state. During this period, groups of dissidents who followed the later writings of Sayyid Qutb (1906–66) split from the main Islamist faction. While the main faction stayed true to the methods of al-Banna, which recruited widespread popular support through educational and political activities as a method to capture power, the dissidents identified with the romantic-radical approach developed by Qutb. This approach views any regime not implementing the rules of Islam as a regime of infidels, whose demise will be achieved only through the formation of a vanguard of the pure of heart, secession from society and, if necessary, the use of violence against regimes that feign being Muslim.⁹ Despite other similar ideological elements, the elitism, romanticism and militarism that characterize their approach, as well as the tendency of some toward religious purism, have created mutual exclusion between them and the main faction of Islamism, whose leaders are the successors of al-Banna.

Islamism, as a modern revolutionary perception that connects an interpretation of religion with political activism and establishes mass, grassroots movements, should be differentiated from the Saudi and Saudi-affiliated variations of salafism, also known as wahhabism (a term that contemporary Saudi salafis consider an insult because they seek to identify their ideology with the path of the first three generations of Islam, the salaf; the Prophet predicted that these three generations would be the best that the nation would have). Salafiyya, which has spread outside of Saudi Arabia’s borders, also identifies with the objectives of a return to Islamic rule, unifying the Muslim nation and repelling the West. Nevertheless, it avoids political subversion against Muslim regimes and loathes the partisanship and religious pragmatism characterizing many of al-Banna’s successors, to the extent that salafis see the Muslim Brothers as deviators from the right path.¹⁰ Saudi salafis and some of their loyalists abroad promote a literalist interpretation of religious law, while withdrawing from political involvement – a withdrawal to which some followers of salafiyya outside and inside the kingdom are not committed.

The main faction of Islamism adheres to wasatiyya, or the ‘harmonious golden path’. The followers of this faction depict Islam as merging and balancing mind and matter, stability and change, capitalism and socialism, individualism and society, and faith and science; this is in opposition to ‘Westernizers’ who have abandoned Islam as a comprehensive way of life, and Muslims who remain stagnant or practise extremism. The wasatis, who are predominantly graduates of al-Azhar University, promote an integrative-restrictive approach toward the achievements of the West and a pragmatic approach to religious law.¹¹ They continue the modernist-apologetic approach perfected by the al-Manar school during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, which purports that a true reading of Islam teaches that there can be no contradiction between empirical science and the word of the Quran; the Western Renaissance originates from encounters with Muslim societies at a time when they were still faithful to the word of God; scientific and technological development and freedom from tyranny are Islamic decrees; and Western innovation should not be dismissed a priori but, rather, accepted or rejected in accordance with Islamic standards (see Chapter 2). Hence, the wasatis common depiction as fundamentalists is partially misleading. In its original American sense, fundamentalism is a movement that opposes liberal interpretations of the scriptures and insists on their literalist reading.¹² As opposed to the American fundamentalists, the wasati Islamists indeed describe themselves as those who return to the ways of Islam’s founding fathers, but they endorse a flexible and creative hermeneutic method.

Wasati Islamists’ pragmatic approach toward religious law emphasizes the obligation to rule in accordance with the primary objectives of the Lawgiver and the demands of reality, to make the lives of the believers easier where possible (taysir) and to weigh the benefits and harms of each decision (muwazana). This approach, which also relies in part on a road paved by modernist apologists, lends jurists more flexibility by encouraging searches for the most suitable answer beyond one school of law and broadly implementing the principle of the public and individual good (maslaha) as a basis of religious rulings. It creates a wide and flexible range for legitimizing the suspension of prohibitions and the expansion of permissions, while still maintaining and declaring loyalty to ‘authentic’ Islam.¹³

The keys to understanding Islamist scholarship are the fundamental experiences of Muslim societies’ failure in the face of Western powers, and the continuous failure of Islamist movements to capture power in Arab lands. Islamists use the historical narrative of the ‘cultural attack’ (al-ghazw al-thaqafi) or the ‘ideological attack’ (al-ghazw al-fikri) to explain both these failures. It is a conspiracy theory that offers an alternative interpretation to conventional historiographies and portrays the West as a cohesive entity behind an ongoing assault against the Muslim world. According to this theory, adopted by Hasan al-Banna, accepted by his successors and rooted in modernist-apologetic writings, Europe realized, following the defeat of the Crusaders, that as long as Muslims maintained their loyalty to Islam they would never be defeated in battle. Therefore, in their modern campaigns against Islam, starting with the occupation of Egypt by Napoleon in 1798, Christians have been determined to strengthen their hold over Muslims through a combination of military and cultural means. Their relentless cultural onslaught utilizes several methods that include secular education and missionary activity; the distribution of man-made anti-Islamic ideologies such as communism and feminism; placing in positions of power quasi-Muslim leaders whose role is to protect Western interests; the cultivation of mass-media outlets and the spread of destructive cultural pastimes. Islamists believe that the ‘cultural attack’ has succeeded in distancing Muslims from their devotion to religion, thus ensuring the continuation of Western hegemony. The prominence of this conspiracy theory in Islamist writings derives from its reassuring essence. It suggests that the weakness of Muslim societies in comparison to the West originates not from their religious identity but from their detachment from religion and their blindness toward the multiple facets of imperialism; and that the reason for the failure of the Islamist agenda throughout the twentieth century lies not within misinterpreting the will of God, but within the existence of Western-controlled puppet rulers posing as devout Muslims. At times, when the political avenue was blocked to Islamists, this theory justified diverting most of their efforts toward dealing with cultural and social issues, rather than subversive political activism.¹⁴

Hasan al-Banna, the mentor-founder of Islamist thought, was both a leader and a thinker. In post al-Banna Islamism, the roles of intellectual leadership and political leadership were often divided. Two of the most influential and prolific Islamist wasati thinkers of the latter half of the twentieth century are Muhammad al-Ghazali (1917–66) and Yusuf al-Qaradawi (b. 1926), both Egyptian al-Azhar graduates and disciples of al-Banna. Both were not officially members of the Brothers for most of their lives (al-Ghazali was expelled from the movement in 1953, and al-Qaradawi twice declined an offer to serve as its General Guide, seeking instead to carve out for himself the status of a non-partisan leader).¹⁵ Another prominent Islamist thinker, Muhammad ʿImara (b. 1931), was never a member of the Muslim Brothers and his writings are mainly anchored in and interpret the writings of the fathers of the modernist apologetic school. Muhammad Qutb (1919–2014), Sayyid’s brother and one of the major thinkers of the salafi-leaning (in the contemporary sense of the word) faction of Islamism, abstained from direct political activity following his exile to Saudi Arabia in 1972.¹⁶ Rashid al-Ghannushi (b. 1941), the founder of al-Nahda, the Tunisian Islamist political party, was forced into exile in London in 1989. From then and until his return to Tunisia in January 2011, he focused mainly on writing.¹⁷ The Sudanese Hasan al-Turabi (b. 1932), who gained prominence with his writing in the early 1980s, is the exception as an Islamist intellectual who became the main political figure in his country, although in 2001 he was removed from this influential position.

Much as the beholder of