Obama talks about love while justifying wars, but in the Middle East, neither works.
Maybe it seems beside the point, even on the eve of Christmas, to ask ourselves what would Jesus do in the Holy Land today. The narrow confines of Gaza, Jerusalem, Judea, and Samaria are places where God’s love was long ago supplanted by war for land and ill will among men. It has been a year now since the bloody and fruitless Israeli effort to crush Hamas in what amounts to a massive prison for a million people. Peacemakers in the Middle East are rarely blessed, and often reviled; just ask special envoy George Mitchell. And the truth rarely sets anyone free, as proved most recently by the fact-filled United Nations report by South African Judge Richard Goldstone, which was dissed by Washington and dismissed by Israel.
But given that it’s Barack Obama who’s president of the United States, the Jesus question has a relevance today it wouldn’t have had even a year ago. No, Obama is not the messiah. I’m not saying that. But Obama actually uses the word love in a way that Jesus would have understood. So while the question of what Christ might do in today’s Holy Land is hypothetical, the question of what Obama will do is not. And some of his most cherished ideas about peace, love, and understanding could be put to the test Dec. 31 when activists are hoping to stage a massive Gaza Freedom March.
It is precisely the kind of protest Obama himself called for in his speech to the Muslim world in Cairo last June when he said Palestinians must abandon violence, and held up the example of the civil-rights movement in the United States, and of similar struggles by people from South Africa to South Asia, from Eastern Europe to Indonesia.
The choice would seem to be a clear one between the policies of terror, occupation, corrosive combat, and cynical poitics that we’ve seen for so long from both the Palestinian and Israeli leadership, or policies of civil disobedience and sweet reason, which is what Obama says he wants. But don’t expect to hear much about that march when it happens, if it happens at all. Egypt as well as Israel may make it impossible for foreign peace activists to join the marchers in Gaza. Protests come and go in the Palestinian territories, but only blood normally draws media attention and even then, not much.
Perhaps the only hope that a massive nonviolent march will have to make an impact is if Obama himself takes note. But since Cairo, he has been stymied by hardball politics in Israel. Thus in June Obama flatly stated that the United States does not accept the legitimacy of continued Israeli settlements, which sounded tough. But he quickly discovered that Israeli Prime Minister Bibi Netanyahu didn’t really give a damn what Obama accepts. After much hand wringing, Washington finally coaxed Netanyahu into announcing a partial temporary freeze on some new apartment blocks and houses on the West Bank, but construction of public buildings and projects already begun goes right ahead.
Oslo was a chance for Obama to set things straight: either he believes in the power of nonviolent protest to affect the future of peace in the Middle East or he does not. But as he made his pitch to the Europeans to send more NATO troops to the “just war” in Afghanistan, he wandered away from his old theme in the Middle East. The belief that peace is desirable is rarely enough to achieve it, Obama said. A nonviolent movement could not have halted Hitler’s armies. Negotiations cannot convince Al Qaeda’s leaders to lay down their arms. To say that force may sometimes be necessary is not a call to cynicism—it is a recognition of history; the imperfections of man and the limits of reason.