Spiral of Violence in Palestine

by Mark Chmiel

The following is a short reflection, which grew out of a talk on Friday 30 January at Karen House, the Catholic Worker House of Hospitality in Saint Louis. Thanks to the Karen House community and friends who participated in the discussion.

Four decades ago the courageous Brazilian archbishop Helder Camara wrote The Spiral of Violence in an attempt to better understand the social dynamics of his own—and many other – impoverished Third World countries. Written shortly after the pivotal Latin American Bishops Conference at Medellín in 1968, Camara sketched a typology of societal violence in three escalating stages. First is the stage of institutionalized injustice, exemplified by poverty, high infant mortality, unemployment, exploited workers and farmers, and inadequate health care; in other words, a social situation breeding misery. The second stage is that of revolt against the first stage, as more and more people find the status quo intolerable. Repression is the third stage of violence and is a response to quell the revolt and preserve the status quo deemed all too tolerable by its architects and beneficiaries. Camara’s straight-forward analysis calls to mind John F. Kennedy’s view, “Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable.”

A now familiar case in point of Camara’s analysis is El Salvador. Long dominated by an economic oligarchy of “fourteen families” who were backed by the military, many Salvadorans – of the Catholic Church and the Marxist left – revolted, in different ways, against the pervasive denials of human dignity throughout Salvadoran society. Accordingly, the “preferential option of the poor” – embraced by Father Rutilio Grande, the Jesuit intellectuals at the University of Central America, and Archbishop Oscar Romero – was seen as “subversive” by the Salvadoran elite and the full fury of state terror was inflicted upon them as well as their numerous, less famous companions.

In his book, Beyond Chutzpah, Norman Finkelstein states, “Looking back after two decades of study and reflection, I am struck most by how uncomplicated the Israel-Palestine conflict is.” Looking at this conflict in the terms of Camara’s analysis confirms Finkelstein’s observation. If people want to reduce the violence in the region, they must first see that the 41-year-old Israeli occupation is at the root of the spiral of violence. What would we think if our land was appropriated by a foreign military power and the citizens of that nation took over our land? What would we think of that military force monitoring and controlling our movements, interfering with our ability to get to at work, visit a doctor, or even visit our extended family? What would we think of power being exercised over our lives without us having any input or representation? What would we think of the humiliation and intimidation with which the military troops treat our friends and family?

Given the Israeli occupation and domination of the Palestinians and their land, Palestinians have resisted, revolted, and attempted to “shake off” (intifada) the Israeli occupation. Some revolt with arms, others with nonviolent methods. The use of rifles, Qassam rockets, suicide bombing, stone throwing, tax resistance, and peaceful demonstrations are among the ways Palestinians express their resistance to being occupied.

Having shown no indication that it wants to end its control of Palestinian territory, Israel must regularly resort to force to repress the insubordinate and insurgent Palestinians. Among the methods it has historically and recently employed for repressing them: imposing curfews for days or weeks at a time; constructing roadblocks and checkpoints; practicing administrative detention, which means one can be arrested without charge and held for months or years; engaging in torture; building a separation Wall; firing sound bombs; shutting down universities and schools; shooting tear gas; assassinating terrorist suspects with predictable “collateral damage”; deporting “trouble-makers,” both Palestinians and international activists; demolishing homes; using white phosphorus in heavily populated civilian areas; bombing “terrorist” infrastructures; imposing an economic blockade. All of these methods only increase the immiseraiton, marginalization, and powerlessness of the Palestinian people, which drive more to despair and compel others to new levels of fury.

What was the dominant theme of discussion in mainstream circles in December and January regarding Gaza? It was the firing of the rockets and Israel’s unquestioned right to defend itself. Notice, though, that the Hamas rockets represent the second stage of violence, that of revolt. Scant attention was paid the harsh humanitarian crisis in Gaza, and the continued expansion of settlements in the West Bank, both of which are the first, primary stage of violence. This systematic, on-going, and generative violence of the Israeli occupation and control is overlooked or downplayed. Notice, too, that Israel’s “response” to the rockets was an especially vicious and devastating three-week campaign of repression and state terrorism, resulting in over 1,300 deaths, including hundreds of children, as well as thousands of wounded. Mosques, schools, homes, buildings, and neighborhoods were bombed and destroyed.

Among U.S. commentators and politicians, ensuring Israel’s security is touted as a major pillar of U.S. Middle East policy. It’s worth remembering that, armed with nuclear weapons and backed by the world’s only superpower, Israel has one of the most powerful military forces in the world.

Among U.S. political leaders and media pundits, there is no evidence of a comparable concern for Palestinian security, because U.S. policy is fixated on the second stage of violence, Palestinians violently resisting Israel’s illegal occupation.

Activist A. J. Muste once advised fellow pacifists that their agenda should be “to denounce the violence on which the present system is based, and all the material and spiritual evil it entails for the masses of [men and women] throughout the world. So long as we are not dealing honestly and adequately with this ninety percent of our problem, there is something ludicrous and perhaps hypocritical about our concern over the ten percent of violence employed by the rebels against oppression.”

For citizens in the United States, then, an important ethical imperative is that if we are disturbed by the violence of Hamas rockets and suicide bombers (and are even occasionally taken aback by the or “disproportionate” reaction of the Israeli authorities), we ought to direct ourselves to addressing the complex of social injustices that constitute Camara’s first stage of violence, namely, the Israeli occupation. The reason is simple: That endemic injustice of one nation dominating and oppressing another people is the root of the unsurprising revolt and the guaranteed, consequent repression. Unless the unjust status quo is significantly transformed in the West Bank and Gaza, violence will continue to escalate, including greater numbers of people in its deadly spiral.

The simple words of Pope Paul VI retain their relevance to the current situation, “If you want peace, work for justice.” If we want justice, end the occupation. If we want to end the occupation, we have to transform the U.S. diplomatic, military, financial, media, and congressional support away from Israel’s occupation and toward freedom and some semblance of justice for the Palestinians.

Mark Chmiel teaches at St. Louis University and Webster University. Mark’s first book, Elie Wiesel and the Politics of Moral Leadership, was published in spring 2001 by Temple University Press.  He is on the Board of the Center for Theology and Social Analysis in St. Louis, Missouri.