TEL AVIV, 10 October 2003 — My resume is no secret. My mother was born in Hebron in 1921, a seventh generation Hebron Jew. I am the eighth generation. My family’s deep link to the city of the patriarchs was cruelly severed in the summer of 1929, when rioters slaughtered half my family. The other half — my grandfather, uncles, aunts and my mother — was saved by their Arab landlord. Ever since, my family has been divided in half. One half will never again trust a Palestinian. The other half will never stop searching for neighbors who seek peace.
I have the right of return to the city from which we were expelled. I will never give up this right, but I have no intention of exercising it, because I also have an obligation to create a life free of unending death and conflict. The right to life of my children and the children of Hebron takes precedence over the right to slaughter one another on the altar of land and hearth. I am mad with anger. I see my dreams and the dreams of my Jewish and Arab friends consumed in the flame of extremism. I am angry with the Palestinians, and with the terrible meanings they allow too many of their religious teachers to impose on the holy word of God. But I have sworn a vow: I will not let anger become my adviser. I will not turn revenge into policy. I will continue to believe.
And here is my faith: Any future agreement will be based on territorial compromise — not just a real estate deal, but a spiritual decision by peoples that have decided to accept one another despite years of hostility. I believe with perfect faith that the entire land of Israel belongs to me. So it is written in the Bible, so my mother from Hebron taught me and her grandchildren. And I know that the dream of greater Palestine passes from grandparent to grandchild in every Palestinian home. Therefore the first compromise is between me and my dream. I compromise with my dream of returning to Hebron in order that I may live free in the new Israel.
And my Palestinian brother must give up his dream of returning to Jaffa in order to live an honorable life in Nablus. Only those capable of compromising with their dreams can sit together to forge a compromise on behalf of their nations.
Many Arab states have found it useful to preserve your Palestinian rage and humiliation. They know that the moment Palestinian independence is declared, the face of the Arab world will change beyond recognition. For these bad years have spawned one good thing — the real possibility of democracy.
The forces of democracy, both Israeli and Palestinian, face an unholy alliance of corrupt autocrats and scheming theocrats who will do anything to prevent the light of democracy from spreading its rays of hope. Democracies are richer, freer and, most important, built on hope, not fear. And what some fear most is a Palestinian society without fear.
Because the world will not be safe for me until it is safe for Palestinians, I want to share with them my people’s historic experience. Through thousands of years of exile we were weak. The Christian world loved our weakness; it symbolized their strength. But at a certain historic moment the Zionist movement arose, the movement of Jewish national rebirth. A brave and honest leadership led this downtrodden people to nearly unimaginable accomplishments. In one historic moment we decided to stop being weak, and the nature of our dialogue with other nations was utterly changed.
Up to now, the Palestinians have sanctified their image of weakness, even though they could have been powerful. This will lead them nowhere. Imagine that everything was done: Israel had left the territories, there were no more settlements and a Palestinian state had arisen. How would the Palestinians behave? What would be the character of the Palestinian state? The way things look now, they are headed toward massive failure: A Palestinian state that will be the world’s newest, but retrograde in its values.
I hear the cries of joy when a suicide bomber completes his task. I know the claim that the Palestinians have no helicopters or jet fighters and so the bombers are their strategic weaponry. That is their truth. Well, this is mine: Suicide bombing is a weapon of monsters, not freedom fighters. And until the Palestinians spit it and its facilitators from their midst, they will have no partner on my side. And what comes after, when the Israelis are gone and all the great debates surface over the character of the Palestinian state — religious or modern, Islamic or secular? How will these debates be resolved? I’m willing to bet right now: There will be suicide bombers. Hamas will try to dictate these decisions by the tools it knows.
What is good for Israel is to give up the dream of the greater land of Israel, to dismantle the settlements, leave the territories and live in peace alongside a Palestinian state, to fight corruption and direct all its energies inward toward Israeli society. And what is good for the Palestinians? The same thing. To give up the fantasy of driving us away and returning to villages that mostly no longer exist. To fight the corruption that is destroying Palestinian society from within and to direct talents and resources toward building an exemplary Arab society.
There is an ancient story about the sage who could answer every question. One of his students decided to stump him. The student caught a butterfly and held it in his fist. He came to the sage and asked: “What is in my hand — a live butterfly or a dead one?” He was thinking, if he guesses a live one, I will crush it, and if he guesses a dead one, I will open my hand and let the butterfly show the world the sage’s failure. But the wise man looked him in the eye and said: “It is all in your hands.”
A future of life or death, children with hope or despair, a Palestinian nation that is respected or despised — it is all in Palestinian hands.
— Avraham Burg was speaker of Israel’s Knesset from 1999 to 2002. He is currently a Labour party Knesset member. This article was first published in the east Jerusalem Arabic-language daily Al-Quds.
