Why is Calling It Genocide So Hard?

 I have been thinking about this for quite some time, and I have a few half-written blog posts addressing the G word: is the Gaza operation genocide?  I learned today that calling it such may be "anti-semitic" according to the standards of the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance, so that could be a deterrent.  However, since the guy who wrote the IHRA guidelines is opposed to the weaponization of his guidelines, maybe that shouldn't deter us.

One of the big challenges in calling something genocide is that it is supposed to require not just heaps of war crimes but proven intent.  I have gotten into arguments with a friend about this.  What counts as intent?  Heaps of statements by those in the Israeli government but not by Netanyahu himself?  Does Israel need to issue a statement that their intent is to commit genocide for us to call it genocide?  And to be clear, most genocide scholars have called it genocide while most holocaust scholars have not.  

Again, the crime of genocide is "“intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnic, racial or religious group, as such.”  I find this strange because it makes intent more important than the actual reality of what is being done, and what is being done in Gaza and what is starting to be done in the West Bank is the destruction of a people because of who they are.  It is more than a few war crimes but an operation defined by war crimes--killing of kids and of journalists, destruction of hospitals and water facilities, and now the perfection of starvation.  For me, genocide is the attempted destruction of a people in whole or in part because of their identities.  How is what is going in Gaza not that?  I think we can discern intent from the fact that this has been going on for some time and that the violence has been systemic.  It is not an accident that the destruction has been this complete.  It is not an accident that Palestinians are dying of starvation.  I think we can infer intent from the patterns.  

Yet, for me and for others, it has been very hard to use the G-word.  Why?  There are two reasons, I think, with one being far more important than the other, but both probably matter.  The lesser reason is that if you call something genocide, you are obligated to do something about it.  The Genocide Convention and all the discussion around it involves not just an obligation not to engage in genocide, but also not to stand by when one observes it elsewhere.  I am old enough to remember when the Clinton Administration was reluctant to call the Rwanda Genocide what it was as it was happening because that would mean doing something about it less than a year after the mess in Mogadishu.  

How do you stop a country from committing genocide?  The efforts by countries to invoke international law have failed to stop Israel.  Of course, cutting off arms shipments would be a first step that should have happened long ago.  But that too would be insufficient given the commitment made by Netanyahu to stay in power to continue the war against the Palestinians.  Regime change?  That would seem to be the way to go, but that opens all kinds of questions that people don't want to consider.  But, still, I don't think that is driving discomfort with the G-word. 

The biggest problem for Jews to call it genocide is that it cuts to heart of Jewish identity.  Note that one of the IHRA restrictions is comparing Israel's actions to the Nazis.  Why is that?  While anti-semites may do that all the time, why is it inherently anti-semitic if the behavior is similar?  Because the Holocaust is so burned into Jewish identity, that Jews as victims, as survivors, is part of what it means to be Jewish.  As an atheist, I don't feel my Jewish identity when it comes to religious stuff,* but I feel it when the Holocaust comes up as a topic.  I have joked that I learned three things in Hebrew school (2-3 times a week, mostly afternoons after my public school education): how to read (not understand) enough Hebrew to barely get through my Bar Mitzvah, various mythologies about the creation of Israel (I cannot express how mind-blowing and nauseating it is to hear Israeli politicians refer to a second Nabka, which means they are acknowledging what was long denied--that Israel expelled the Palestinians in 1947),** and the Holocaust.  

It is now fundamental to Jewish identity that genocide was done to us.  Indeed, some of the discourse around the Holocaust is disturbing because it focuses on the six million Jews and not the eleven or so million victims, in an effort to make the Holocaust a uniquely Jewish experience, rather than including Roma, LGBTQ, the disabled, opposition politicians, and others.  Anyhow, if being the target of genocide defines in part what it means to be a Jew, how can Jews engage in genocide?  It is possible but really hard to recognize this reality, as it hurts.  It feels awful, it creates much emotional conflict within oneself and with others, including family.  It is far easier to label the behavior of others, such as Serbs in Bosnia, as genocide than to consider one's own people guilty of it, especially when it is key to one's identity.  

And, yes, another element is that others in bad faith use the genocide word.  But again, as the Superman movie reminds us (as did a series of books that have now been betrayed by their author), it is the choices we make, it is what we do that matters.  What the Israeli government is doing is horrifying.  The scale of destruction, of collective punishment, is appalling.  What is the appropriate life for a life ratio?  Yes, Hamas killed more than a thousand people in October a couple of years ago, but does that justify killing tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands?  Again, collective punishment is inherently evil, it is what Nazis did to Lidice because of the assassination of Reinhard Heydrich.  

There I go, making comparisons to Nazis.  I guess that means I am anti-semitic.  I don't hate Jews, but I do hate the government of Netanyahu.  And there's the rub--Jews in Israel are protesting that government, so they aren't anti-semitic, are they?  So, if folks on this side of the Atlantic protest the actions of the Israeli government, does that make them anti-semitic?  I would think not, but the weaponization of the IHRA standards, mostly by actors of bad faith (the Trump administration and the GOP are full of anti-semites from the top down), says otherwise. 

There has been plenty of real anti-semitism directed at American Jews, including members of my family.  But what is not anti-semitism are accusations that Israel is engaged in genocide.  Sure, that makes Jews uncomfortable, but being made uncomfortable is not a hate crime.  Here's another parallel that will surely annoy people--being informed about the slavery and its legacy makes white people uncomfortable in the US but is not a hate crime and should not be driven out of classrooms.  Similarly, criticism of Israel for its war crimes and, yes, for its genocidal campaign, will make Jews uncomfortable, but is not necessarily anti-semitism. That depends on the speaker and, yes, their intent.  

So, yeah, what the government of Israel is doing is genocide.  It does not make Hamas right or justified or good.  Hamas is evil, perhaps more evil than Israel because it deliberately endangered the people they claim to represent to score points.  Israel, for all of the harm it does, is doing it in the name of protecting its people, even it is mostly about keeping Netanyahu in power and out of prison.   But one can think the two things at the same time--that Hamas is evil and Israel is engaging in genocide.  It is awful, it is uncomfortable as hell, but it is also reality.  

* I have long been a "bad Jew" not just for being an atheist but also for marrying a non-Jew.  So, devout Jews can take all of what I say and throw this blog post out.  But again, I feel this identity keenly when Nazis are back in fashion in the US as I know that I would be sent to the gas chambers along with those who believe.  

** Israel is also central to Jewish identity, something I am reminded of as I read Sandra Fox's book on Jewish summer camps.  But is it the government or the place that is central?  I think making any government central to one's identity to be problematic, but that is a topic for another day.  I have dodged all kinds of questions and issues, but this post is long enough.  We can discuss Zionism some other day. 

Why Scream When I Can Blog?

It has been one of those travel days, and since I am traveling alone, I can't vent with anyone, so I will vent here.

To be clear, I had an awesome family vacation--had lots of fun, lots of great meals made by family members (took us decades to figure out the best way to feed us is for us to rent places and feed ourselves rather than go to restaurants with 10-15 people).  So, today's frustrations were worth it, but,  yeesh.

 So, what happened?

1. I had to wake at 4am to get to the airport for my flight, and that was fine, although the rental car's tire has too little air caused me some anxiety.
2. The Reno airport was fine even if I didn't get any money back from my $1 wager at the slot machine.
3. The flight boarded fine, and I got bumped to first class.  Managed to sleep ok, but storms over Chicago meant that our landing was delayed until just the moment my next flight took off for Ottawa.
4. I used the United app to get a flight to Ottawa via Newark since I missed the last flight to Ottawa.  So far, so good, eh?  
5. No.  The plane was late to take off, first because it was short one flight attendant, and then once we were sitting around a while, they decided to swap flight attendant crews, and then we sat around for a while longer.
6. So, we landed just about the time the last flight to Ottawa was to take off.  Oh, but we had 7 passengers on the plane who were supposed to go to Ottawa.  So, would they hold the plane for about 1/3 of the passengers?  
7. Sort of.  The app told us upon landing that they were holding the flight for us, because, of course, with so many passengers, why not wait a few minutes.  They did... for the first four passengers but not for the next three.  I don't know how the others got ahead of us--we didn't sprint, but we didn't dally either.  So, our plane took off without us.  
8. The gate people were of absolutely no help but gave us a qr code so that we could text with someone with a shaky connection.  I chose to go to the United lounge since that seems to be the only place on this side of the airport to get a real person to help.
9. But I couldn't get in the lounge since I could no longer access my boarding passes on my app.  So, eventually they let me through.
10. Where I found a super helpful person who got me on the first flight tomorrow and got me vouchers for hotel and food.
11. I discovered that I lost my water bottle along the way.  That's ok--it was a freebie from a conference two weeks ago and it was very much worth what I paid for it--very leaky. 
12. I tried to eat a dumpling place at the airport, but they were closing.
13. I then tried the cheese steak place, but they were closing.
14. I went to the Italian sandwich shop which had one guy making sandwiches and was taking forever.
15. So, I left and sought the shuttle--the text I had with the vouchers indicated that I could just call up and they would send a shuttle.  Nope, it comes every hour so I would have to wait 45 minutes.
16. I had no patience for that, so I went to get a taxi, but I was on the wrong floor.
17. So, I went to get a taxi--$37 for a very short drive.  And the guy couldn't zip the credit card--had to enter it manually.
18. Got to the hotel, phew.  Got my keycard but went to their restaurant before it was to close.  
19. Who the fuck puts cilantro on garlic shrimp?  So, I got my dinner, spent most of it peeling cilantro off of the shrimp, which were fine otherwise.
20. Went to my room where the key card didn't work.
21. So I went back down and the desk guy's solution, since "the card should work" was to send a security guy back up with me.  And, yes, the card still did not work, so the security guy let me in.  Good thing I have no plans to leave the room until my 5am shuttle.
22. My ice cold room since the AC was set on blasting the coldest air. 
23. Oh, and one last annoyance (I hope): the room not only has no bottles of water but no glasses or cups of any kind.  I'd like to have some water with my pills/vitamins.  So, now I am waiting for someone to drop some off since, yes, I can't leave my room.  
24. Oy.
25. I just hope my bag goes with me tomorrow, but if it does not, no biggie, since I am done traveling until September.

And no, I was mostly nice to the united people except for the unhelpful gate people.  It is not their fault, but damn it, they should have waited just a couple more minutes.  Or at least been a little bit more sympathetic about fucking us over.

 

Rabat and the Fake Sociologist

I finally made it to Africa.  Five years ago, I had plans to go to the International Sociology Association's meeting in Stellanbosch, South Africa, and then off to a safari in Kruger National Park and a trip to Victoria Falls.  Alas, Covid got in the way.  This time, the reason was most the same--to network with the research committee of the ISA focused on the armed forces and other stuff--and the outcome was much better.

It can be confusing since I almost always go to a different ISA every year--the Intl Studies Association, which is multidisciplinary but mostly poli sci folks.  This ISA is almost entirely sociologists, but there is much overlap in how sociologists look at civil-military relations as political scientists.  Indeed, RC01 was founded by Morris Janowitz, who was one of the Gods of the field way back in the 1960s and much read/cited by both political scientists and sociologists.  

My purpose was mostly aimed at buttressing the partnership that is the CDSN and will be the CMRN.  The Canadian Defence and Security Network is in its 7th year of a 7 year grant.  So, we are applying anew, but to be successful, we need to be both more ambitious and more focused.  The Civil-Military Relations Network is both--global and very explicitly comparative but focused on only a slice of defence/security--civil-military relations.   Our summer (me and the co-directors and hq staff) are spending the summer revising older grant docs, writing new ones, and engaging partners to make sure they are on board and are willing to suffer through the grant agency's webpage.  Coming to this conference helped clarify for me how the CMRN can help the RC01, and how the RC01 can help the CMRN--this will make for clear, more authentic partnership letters and also a better actual partnership.  

Along the way, I went to panels and learned much from the various presentations.  My fave was by Helena Carrieras, a very prominent sociologist in the field of civ-mil, who had served as an officer in both RC01 and ERGOMAS (the European Research Group on Miltiaries and Society--another CDSN/CMRN partner).   She discussed her experience of serving two years as Portugal's Minister of Defense as a very self-conscious, self-aware sociololgist who had written on gender and the military.  Her talk discussed a variety of topics, including the challenges of being the first, how to deal with being the token woman, how to be self-reflexive but not too much so as sometimes decisions had to be made quickly.  Her term was dominated by the Ukraine war.  Just a fascinating discussion.

But, of course, I also came to Rabat to come to Rabat.  While this was the first time I visited a Muslim country or a real monarchy (sorry, Canada/Netherlands/UK/Sweden/etc)*, my previous experiences were tightly constrained--the 2007 trip to Afghanistan with a brief stop in both directions in Dubai.  I don't remember hearing the calls to prayer in Afghanistan--maybe we were too deep in the base at Kandahar--and my amazing hotel in Rabat was next to one.  So, this definitely produced a rhythm during the day and night.  The monarchy part was mostly amusing as I passed by the Royal Moroccan Surf Club while checking out the beach, and the idea of royal surf club just tickled me.

It was not as hot as I feared, but it was mighty warm.  It was San Diego-esque in that some mornings, there were clouds that kept things cooler, but they would burn off.  The legions of very small, very thin cats seemed to be mostly drained by the heat---the sleepiest, least hyper kitties I have ever seen.  The people were all very kind and helpful.  I tried to get by with my lousy French, which led to more than a few folks speaking English to me.  The diversity of the people was most amazing--people of a variety of colors, multiple languages, quite a range of what the women would wear from quite western to very conservative to in between.  The food was good, but I think I would have greatly benefited from a food tour or a guide showing me the better places.  Google maps led to me to a variety places that either didn't seem to exist or were hard to navigate, but it did led me to an awesome hole in the wall street food place that had awesome kefta.  I found it easier to order food in Japan than in Rabat as there were usually pictures to point at in Tokyo, no such luck in many places here.  As often occurs, I walked by some great places on my way out, leading to some regret.  

 I did enjoy staying in the old quarter which had a lot of markets and a really cool hotel.  I had a beautiful room, and they served a terrific breakfast each morning.  As always, better to be lucky than good. 

The beach was pretty close by, so I went swimming to check the "other side of the Atlantic box."  I have swum on both sides of the Pacific, both west and east sides of the Med, and grew up on the western side of the Atlantic, so I was due.  The mistake?  Choosing the side with more surf.  I love to play in the surf and they had some great sets.  But the ocean floor was the most dangerous combination of slippery and sharp.  I didn't get cut or bruised, but it would have been quite likely had I stayed for every long.  Still, a nice relief from the heat and it was fun despite the near death experience of it all. 

The challenging part has been the travel--that my addiction to United meant many hours in Frankfurt (so I took a quick train to Mainz and accidentally found a beer festival) and strange times to land and take off in Casablanca--as in landing at 1230am and taking off tonight at 130am.  Which meant having to find a nearby hotel for when I landed (and that worked out great), and having to spend a lot of time waiting for my flight tonight.  No plugs to be found, so I will run out of juice on each device eventually.  

Anyhow, it was both a fun and successful trip.  I go home very briefly and then take off for the  annual Saideman summer trip, which will include everyone--my siblings and all of the next generation--except, of course, for my mother who passed last year.  We couldn't travel far and wide during last few years, so this is the first time we are getting the entire gang back together in a non-Philly locale.  We shall see how it goes now that everyone is much older--whether they enjoy being dragged around a lake as much as they did ten years ago.  A key difference: we are heading west, where hopefully cannibalism does not break out again.

I plan to come back next winter for some research.  Hey, if they are willing to have protests across from the parliament, their defense types might be willing to talk to this wayward researcher.  Especially if he brings along one of his former grad students who speaks Arabic.

*  On my way out, I was surprised to see a small protest across the street from the parliament building.

The protest

The Parliament Building