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by David Orland
Amid fears of violence, pro-Palestinian and
pro-Israeli demonstrators recently converged
on the University of California, Berkeley’s
Sproul Plaza. There was good reason to
worry. The April 9 rally, organized by the
campus group, Students for Justice in
Palestine (SJP), was scheduled as part of a
“National Day of Action for Palestinian Rights”
to protest the recent Israeli offensive in the
West Bank and Gaza Strip and call for
University “divestiture” in Israel. Whether by
accident or design, the protest also coincided
with both Holocaust Remembrance Day and
the annual Palestinian commemoration of the
1948 “Deir Yassin Massacre,” an event in
which more than 100 Palestinian civilians
were killed by Zionist irregulars.
Tensions on campus ran high in the days
leading up to the protest. Angered by the
SJP’s refusal to change the date of the rally,
members of the Israel Action Committee, a
pro-Israeli student group, promised to turn out
for it in force. UC-Berkeley Chancellor Robert
Berdahl, meanwhile, hastily organized a news
conference in which he urged “civil debate
and reasoned discourse” and promised to
punish anyone found to have engaged in acts
of vandalism or violence.
Berdahl deserves credit for his timely
intervention: The protest, though ugly, never
degenerated into violence. Flanked by a ring of
uniformed police officers, pro-Israeli and
pro-Palestinian demonstrators waved the
flags of their respective camps while chanting
slogans and trading slurs. 500 Palestinian
supporters then occupied Wheeler Hall, a
central campus building, where they disrupted
classes until eventually expelled by the UC
police. By day’s end, 79 protesters had been
arrested. Except for a protester who had bitten
a police officer, all those arrested were
released after being issued citations for
trespassing.
For once, however, the University is not
stopping with a slap on the wrist. In retaliation
for their disruptive takeover of Wheeler Hall,
administration officials last week announced
that they would no longer recognize Students
for Justice in Palestine as an authorized
student group. There has also been talk of
possible suspension for students arrested
during the Wheeler takeover. In both of these
moves, the University is setting a much
needed example: though students are entitled
to express their opinion on campus, college
administrators must draw the line (but rarely
do) at disruptive and threatening behavior.
Most students seem to be in favor of the
administration’s crackdown on the SJP. As to the
protest itself, responses were varied. Many in
the UC administration, relieved that the
predicted violence never materialized, called
the protest a “success.” Most students were
more partisan in their assessments.
Pro-Palestinian demonstrators, delighted to
find themselves in the spotlight of national
media coverage, promised further protests
until the UC divested itself of its holdings in
Israeli-owned companies. Pro-Israeli groups,
meanwhile, decried their opponents’ tactics
and warned of the growing anti-Semitism of
the campus left.
Ronald
Radosh, writing for
FrontPageMagazine.com, took a similar
line. According to Radosh, the pro-Palestinian
demonstrations at Berkeley and other
campuses belong to “a new and dangerous
student anti-war movement, one that seeks to
confuse its audience by the rhetoric of peace
and human rights, while in fact seeking to
organize a new anti-capitalist and anti-Israel
campus activism. It is truly a coalition of the
leftover Left — a group seeking anxiously to
create a new umbrella cause that they hope
can be for their generation what Vietnam was
for that of their parents.”
Radosh is right to link the recent
pro-Palestinian demonstrations with the anti-war movement that
emerged in the aftermath of Sept. 11. Since
early last fall, the new anti-war movement has
opportunistically sought to enter into coalition
with any group that will have it. Those who
participate in the movement — an improbable
collection of globalization opponents, minority-identity
groups and superannuated hippies — often
have little more in common than a shared
enemy: U.S. policy, domestic and foreign,
everywhere and always. Students for Justice
in Palestine participate in this movement and
their strong showing in Berkeley on April 9
was in no small part due to the help of their
anti-war allies.
For Radosh and those who think like him, it is
a question of guilt by association: Since
Students for Justice in Palestine and similar
groups are wrong about Sept. 11, they must
also be wrong about Israel. But there is a
problem with this view. Opposition to
retaliation for Sept. 11 — the basic premise of
the anti-war movement — is one thing.
Opposition to Israeli policy in the territories of
the Palestinian Authority — the basic premise
of the pro-Palestinian movement — is
something else altogether. By conflating the
two, both Radosh and those he criticizes in
the anti-war movement have succumbed to
the mirage of solidarity, the crude political
instinct that counts as a friend whoever is my
enemy’s enemy.
What is lacking here — and was lacking at the
protests — is any notion of specifically
American interests. This isn’t to say that you
can’t build an argument that the U.S. should
tilt one way or another in the Middle East.
(Most conservatives favor Israel, though some
feel otherwise.) But any such argument
should be based on a calm assessment of
our country’s legitimate interests. What
worries me is how seldom that’s happening.
Instead, much of our debate on the issue
resembles Berkeley, characterized by the sort
of passionate, often-vehement partisanship
that we see (in more extreme form) in the
Middle East itself.
As the founding fathers well understood, the
peace and prosperity of our nation depends
upon creating and fostering a national idea,
one that would distinguish us as Americans
and provide us with a criterion for negotiating
foreign policy. In his 1801 inaugural address,
Thomas Jefferson famously remarked that the
United States should follow a policy of "peace,
commerce, and honest friendship with all
nations — entangling alliances with none.”
George Washington made a similar point,
urging that the U.S. should “act for ourselves
and not for others” and that, to do so, we must
have an “American character wholly free of
foreign attachments.”
The founders' concern reached beyond
foreign policy; they wanted to ensure that
Americans thought of themselves as
Americans. They knew that to identify closely
and personally with a people engaged in
longstanding bloodshed was to risk importing
the same sort of anomosity into our own
country.
The idea that Americans should put their
legitimate interests as Americans first —
indeed, the idea that there is any such thing
as a specifically American interest — has
become a rarity, especially on our campuses.
One reason for this has to do with the idea of
diversity. For years now, we have been told
that diversity — in our society, our schools, our
culture — is a good and necessary thing. But
the idea behind the current concept of
diversity, the idea that ethnic and cultural
difference of whatever sort is a good in itself,
has come at a cost. As ever-larger numbers of
Americans come to identify with their tribal,
racial or ethnic origins, the idea that all of us,
as Americans, have something greater in
common fades from view.
The results are sure to be disastrous. Now
that we have given up on the American idea, it
is increasingly difficult to distinguish between
our national interests and those of the various
identity groups who are constantly exerting
pressure on our government to side with them
and against their enemies in this or that
corner of the world. Domestic policy is
becoming foreign policy. As this happens,
those with the greatest voice in Washington
are increasingly those who can shout loudest.
In this respect, the April 9 protests at Berkeley
and other campuses across the nation
presented, in miniature, a disturbing portrait of
our own nation’s potential future. On the one
hand were the pro-Palestinian groups, who
claim innocent-victim status and demand
international action in their favor. On the other
hand were the pro-Israeli groups, who
represent the Palestinian movement as little
more than dressed-up terrorism and demand
that the Israeli conflict with the Palestinian
Authority be recognized as an extension of the
U.S. war in Afghanistan.
Between the two, there was no middle ground,
no nuance, and no compromise. There were
many flags on Sproul Plaza two weeks ago;
none of them were American.
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