This spring we are obsessed with anniversaries: the fifth year since
the invasion of Iraq, the 40th since the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.'s
assassination and, of course, the 60th anniversary of Israeli
independence. Each such marker shapes our understanding of history,
framing how a story is to be told and how it is to be remembered. I am
struck by one conspicuous anniversary that is not making many
headlines.
On tour recently in the U.S., Eitan Bronstein,
director of the Israeli organization Zochrot, explained that "zochrot"
is the Hebrew word for "remembering," intentionally used in its
feminine form to imply that this organization is not about the standard
history of schoolbooks but about a memory grounded in compassion.
Zochrot focuses on educating Israelis about the other side of the 1948
War of Liberation, the dispossession and expulsion of more than 700,000
Palestinians living in what was to become Israel. Through careful
documentation of the locations of more than 450 destroyed Palestinian
villages, by interviewing and photographing Palestinians living in
Israel and surrounding refugee camps, Zochrot creates a living human
memory that encompasses the other side of history.
Mr.
Bronstein has been touring with Mohammad Jaradat, a Palestinian
activist, negotiator at the Madrid peace talks and co-founder of Badil,
Arabic for "alternative," a foundation that researches and advocates
for Palestinian residency and refugee rights. He is part of a vigorous
Palestinian movement for civil society that is largely unknown in the
U.S.
Listening to these two men, I was struck by how memory
shapes our understanding of history and how dangerous it is to blind
ourselves to the realities of the past. For decades, Jews have shaped
the memory of the Holocaust, honoring its victims and justifying the
behavior of its survivors, creating a story in which we Jews are all at
some level survivors, claiming Israel's victories as our own. The
narrative of indigenous Arab resistance to a Jewish state and
acknowledgment of the human suffering that was a consequence of Israeli
military victory and political policy thus become a personal as well as
a political threat.
Mr. Bronstein contends that Israel's failure
to recognize its responsibility for Palestinian dispossession is a
critical though invisible part of Israeli history, that embracing this
history is the first step toward acknowledging Palestinians as fellow
human beings, and that this process can lead beyond peace to permanent
reconciliation between the two peoples. While the Palestinians clearly
"lost the war" in 1948, the decision to prevent them from returning to
their ancestral homes was a political decision that has led to a
constant state of friction and war between Israel and its neighbors.
At
a time when Jews and Palestinians express little hope for a peaceful
future, Mr. Bronstein offers us a path where Israelis acknowledge the
price of their victory and take responsibility for their share of the
Palestinian catastrophe. At the same time, Mr. Jaradat is working for
the kinds of civil rights that are enshrined in international and human
rights law, reminding us that Palestinians deserve nothing less than we
would expect for ourselves. Both men share the conviction that
acknowledging the Palestinian refugees' internationally recognized
right to return and developing creative solutions - from resettlement
to financial compensation - is the foundation of a lasting resolution
of the conflict.
As Israel celebrates its 60th anniversary
today, I wonder what would happen if this tragedy, Al Nakba, were to be
publicly recognized alongside the Israeli victory. Perhaps taking the
risk of acknowledging the pain of the "other" and seeing "the enemy" as
a real person is how peace is ultimately made.
The
dispossession of two-thirds of the Palestinian population in 1948, and
the consequences borne by generations of families living in Israel, the
occupied territories, refugee camps and the diaspora, can no longer be
hidden. It is time to acknowledge that other anniversary and to move
forward with eyes and hearts open to the suffering of all the children
of Abraham.
Alice Rothchild, a physician, is
the author of "Broken Promises, Broken Dreams: Stories of Jewish and
Palestinian Trauma and Resilience" and co-chairwoman of Jewish Voice
for Peace, Boston. Her Web site is