Intolerant Rhetoric: Avigdor Lieberman on Middle Eastern and American Soil
By Betty Rosen
I remember February’s Knesset elections as a time of a held breath, a time when the mechanics of Israeli politics seemed to threaten the optimism of those, like me, who had been hopeful that real progress in the arena of Middle East peace was about to take place. Like so many other Americans, I saw Obama’s election as the inauguration of a worldwide wave of political successes for candidates oriented towards peace and negotiation.
The idea of holding a second set of elections due to a lack of ability to form a coalition government is inherently frightening to Americans. We cling to the view that once “the people have spoken,” their decision must not be adjusted – indeed, the political system should adjust to fit our needs and our desires. When I heard that factionalization might make a second round of elections necessary in Israel, I – and, I think, many Americans – balked. But even once it became clear that a new election would be held in Israel, I remained convinced that the America and the Middle East could together offer greater political opportunity and freedom to Arab Israelis and Palestinians.
Needless to say, the success of new Minister of Foreign Affairs Avigdor Lieberman and his Yisrael Beiteinu party did not fit with my vision of political change and cooperation. I was troubled by his party’s “no loyalty, no citizenship” platform. The phrase conjured up images of an arbitrary concept of “loyalty” – a term charged with implications of the suppression of dissenting voices – that Lieberman was attempting to translate into a fixed political framework. More worrisome still was Yisrael Beiteinu’s explicit plan to redraw the Green Line and strip many Arab-Israelis of their citizenship thereby creating a forced segregation between Israeli and Arab. Here was evidence that in Lieberman’s view, disloyal meant “Arab.” Lieberman’s labeling of Balad, Israel’s main Arab political party, as a “terrorist organization” was only the beginning of an effort to brand legitimate Arab political and social institutions as “terrorist.” Here was a platform that would spread the “Arab equals terrorist” ideology that many in the United States had been fighting so hard to combat since September 11. And here was a party that rejected wholesale the entire premise of idealistic Obamaist Americans like me: that cooperation can lead to peace by revealing every people as valuable, that the era of violence based on broad cultural generalizations was over. Instead of opening new paths to understanding, Lieberman was closing the already limited means to Israeli-Palestinian peace.
One reason Lieberman’s ascent to power is so troubling from an American perspective is his public demeanor. Lieberman’s comportment is entirely foreign to Americans, accustomed as we are to a political culture of politeness and diplomacy. Americans are no strangers to political scandals like the ongoing bribery investigation in which Lieberman is ensnared, and his assertions that the investigation is politically motivated are nothing new either. What is most disturbing is the coupling of this potential corruption with an anger and passion that is foreign to us. When Lieberman openly told Egyptian leader Mubarak to “go to hell,” he broke a cardinal rule of American politics.
If Lieberman’s only fault were behaving in a manner that conflicts with American political standards, however, he wouldn’t be dangerous. Even if he only dismissed United States intervention, we could (perhaps grudgingly) respect him as a proponent of Israeli autonomy. The problem is that Lieberman’s policies have grave ramifications, not just for the Middle East, but for the world. His rejection of American diplomatic involvement in the Arab-Israeli peace process is a rejection of a framework for peace that has been in existence since at least the Madrid Peace Conference of 1991. Granted, that framework has not yet provided a solution, but Lieberman proffers no alternative that represents any interests other than those of Israel. His announcement that the United States is not to make plans for peace efforts provides no outlet for Palestinian desires or concerns. Indeed, his only alternative to a totally unilateral agenda is an Israeli partnership with Russia. He apparently ignores the massive problems associated with making Russia Israel’s primary ally. In any event, this alliance seems designed for economic and military security, not diplomatic collaboration.
But it’s not just an American problem. The fact that Egypt’s chief negotiator visited Israel, but made no plans to meet with its Minister of Foreign Affairs, clearly indicates that Lieberman’s persona – let alone his policies – is a significant obstacle to the Middle East peace process. How can Israel move forward while Egypt’s Foreign Minister asserts that Lieberman “will not step on Egyptian soil”? This last statement has a slew of catastrophic implications. Unpopularity abroad is one thing, but an ability to neither access important channels of political discourse nor physically visit other nations is quite another.
When Lieberman directly engages with the peace process, the results are no less troubling. His shocking statement that Israel is not obligated to the Annapolis process is a refutation of the basic foundation of Arab-Israeli diplomacy. In making this statement, he sets off into the largely uncharted waters of official diplomatic efforts without American aid. It’s this kind of rashness that troubles me most. With Arab-Israeli relations strained disastrously by Gaza, the time for a two-state solution seems to be quickly running out, if it hasn’t already. At this crucial juncture, there is a great need for a foreign minister who can be decisive and careful. Lieberman is neither; he is in fact too temperamental to be either.
Thus, when he tries to back up his arguments with logic that ostensibly takes into account the interests of Arabs and Israelis, it’s hard to trust him. Some took his famous statement that concessions create more violence and actually hinder efforts at peace to be a signal that a cooperative peace really is his objective. But a proposal of negotiations in which neither party makes any concessions is entirely unrealistic. What it really translates to is at best a “separate but equal” doctrine and at worst an assertion of disproportionate Israeli power. And Lieberman approaches the whole process with a brutish intransigence that is downright scary.
It’s this intransigence that is the primary force in actually harming American interests. Too often, Americans think of the Middle East as a far-off region that has no effect on us beyond the implications of oil economics in the Gulf states. In fact, Lieberman’s insistence on calling negotiation for a two-state solution a “dead end” directly hinders American diplomatic efforts. It forces Washington to continuously reiterate its commitment to the two-state resolution in an attempt to defend its framework to both Yisrael-Beiteinu-supporting Israelis and disenchanted Arabs without giving America a chance to reconsider its own diplomatic position. Is a two-state solution still possible? Maybe not, and maybe Lieberman has a point there. However, his aggressive attitude and lack of feasible alternative, other than to exile Arab Israelis to a constructed ghetto state, gives Washington no opportunity to answer that question. Instead, America has to focus its energy on maintaining diplomatic strength in the context of the conflict rather than on examining fairer one-state alternatives.
So what can we do? First of all, we have to recognize which of our objections to Lieberman stem from uniquely American objections to his policies and persona and which come from the dangers he poses to Middle Eastern and international diplomacy. Second, our government has to take the time to consider and continually reevaluate its policy positions in the context of a constantly changing political scene in the Middle East. What concrete action we should take remains as unclear as ever. What is certain is that we must recognize the grave realities of Lieberman’s positions so that we can evaluate how best to act, because the time to act is not tomorrow, but now.