Dealing with Hamas
Several readers have referred me to a remarkable recent article in the London Review of Books by Alastair Crooke, a former British intelligence officer who also spent several years in the Middle East as security adviser to the EU High Representative Javier Solana. Crooke's argument, in essence, is that the West should deal with Hamas and Hizbollah lest more extreme groups take their place:
This prospect may not disturb the slumbers of the Europeans, who will dismiss it as alarmist, even if their record of reading events in the area has been less than inspired. But these are the scenarios that are being taken seriously by thoughtful Islamists in the region. We should hope – that may be all we can now do – that moderate Islamist movements manage to navigate these turbulent times, in spite of European attempts to prevent Islamism, which is clearly now the dominant regional current, from reshaping Middle Eastern societies. These attempts are opening space, not for the moderate pro-Western secularists whom Europeans seek to empower, but for those who believe that to build a new society you must first burn down the old one.
The idiosyncrasy of Crooke's terminology - those "moderate Islamist movements" - is noted succinctly by Norman Geras. I have but one point to make about the substantive argument.
You can construct a case for talking to Hamas. It has been made in the past week by the senior Conservative Michael Ancram. The notion that you deal with terrorist groups by police action and political dialogue is also widespread in scholarly discussions of security policy. (See, for example, Diego Gambetta, "Can we make sense of suicide missions?", in Diego Gambetta (ed.), Making Sense of Suicide Missions, 2005 p. 299: "The future of SMs [suicide missions, i.e. bombings] will largely depend on whether, rather than a crude policy of war and intensifying the clangour of the clash of civilizations, opportunities for astute policing and genuine political processes will be taken up in earnest.")
That view should, however, properly be called a faith-based initiative, because it has scant evidence in its favour. I grant that it's plausible politics to seek to sublimate political violence in dialogue, but the more fruitful way to do that is to impress upon the practitioners of violence that they'll be defeated. They must therefore give up or face the consequences.
This is what nearly happened to Hamas in the late 1990s after Israel detained many terrorist suspects and the Palestinian Authority belatedly starting cracking down on the organisation. Between 1997 and 1999 there were only two suicide bombings by Hamas (both in Jerusalem), and the reason for the lull in activity appears to have been logistical: the leadership was in prison or in exile. That experience confounded two sets of mutually exclusive premises. First, those who maintained that it was not within Yassir Arafat's power to stop terrorism were shown to be wrong: he was able to deliver on his obligations under the Oslo accords, all right; he just chose not to for most of the time. Secondly, those who believed Oslo was a snare and a delusion for Israel were also refuted. There was a period when Oslo was clearly delivering. The Israeli Defence Force had withdrawn from all the major Palestinian areas in the territories; a clean Palestinian election took place in January 1996; and pressure was then applied by Israel and the PA on Hamas, with some effect. This was how Oslo was supposed to work. It might have succeeded, too. The block, as was always likely but was not inevitable, was the duplicitous and corrupt character of Yassir Arafat, who alone bears responsibility for the fact that there is not today a sovereign and independent state of Palestine.
It's possible to go through this history minutely, and Crooke doesn't go through it at all. What he does instead is invoke a spurious historical analogy without examining it:
When all parties begin to see conflict as inevitable, then the ‘inevitable’ becomes self-fulfilling. Americans are fond of comparing the situation in the region to the 1930s and the rise of totalitarianism; but perhaps Europe in 1914 is a better metaphor: the situation is such that some small, unexpected autonomous event might trigger a sequence of events that even the great powers of the region could find it beyond their ability to control.
I doubt Crooke is familiar with German scholarship on the origins of WWI. The Hamburg historian Fritz Fischer demonstrated from archival research in the 1960s that German war planning had been developed at a War Council called by Kaiser Wilhelm in December 1912. It wasn't an accident: it was an intention. And while Wilhelmine Germany was not Nazi Germany (it didn't commit genocide in Europe, though Africa was a different matter), it was a deeply militaristic and autocratic society whose right-wing leadership sought the status of a World Power, Weltmacht. Crooke's analogy is far closer to the model of the rise of totalitarianism than he thinks it is. And if a writer is invoking a historical precedent for a policy prescription, it's not a pedantic objection to say he hasn't thought it through.
One last point about Crooke is worth noting, and I ought to have said it on this site before. Last January, the Mayor of London, Ken Livingstone, notoriously held a day-long "conference" on the theme "A World Civilisation or a Clash of Civilisations". I was a panel speaker at two of the sessions at this jamboree, and gave an account here of what I said. I commented that one of those sessions, which was nominally supposed to be on the subject (an absurdly grandiloquent title, but I tried to be faithful to it) of "Democratic solutions for the Middle East", turned out to be not a discussion of the Middle East but only of one country within it. I didn't comment, however, that Alastair Crooke was another member of that panel.
I welcome the opportunity to have a public debate with Crooke, or with another panel speaker whom I did mention by name, Karma Nabulsi, a former PLO representative and now an Oxford academic. Both are weighty and experienced commentators. But bear in mind their premises - respectively, dialogue with Hamas and an absolute Palestinian "right of return" that would ensure Israel ceased to be a Jewish state. Consider also that the fourth and last member of the same panel was a lady called Susan Nathan, who moved from the UK to Israel a few years ago and became an evangelist for, as she puts it here, "unavoidably the end of the Jewish state". (Ms Nathan was, however, not a weighty and experienced commentator, but a dim monomaniac who in a debate lasting nearly two hours managed to mention not a single country other than Israel. I did point this out - her singlemindedness, I mean, not her dimness - in my concluding remarks, and was glad to learn afterwards that the chairman of our session had commiserated with Ms Nathan on my discourtesy.) In short, the panel, like the whole event, was a farce. As another speaker at the occasion, Martin Bright of the New Statesman, pointed out afterwards to Livingstone's spin doctor: "The conference was a disgrace. It was a set-up for panellists who didn't parrot the Ken line on radical Islam."
I've noticed both Crooke and Ms Nathan being given a notably easy ride by media outlets (including the BBC - here and here) for what are, to say the least, heterodox opinions. (I'm not aware that the same is true of Karma Nabulsi.) In my experience, they merit rougher handling than that, and certainly ought not to be presented at council taxpayers' expense as voices of sagacity and moderation.