What Indians And Palestinians Share By JUSTINE
MCCABE
Published on 5/29/2005, The Day, New London

 
Palestinians salvage belongings in the rubble  of
destroyed buildings and
houses in the Jebaliya refugee camp, northern
Gaza Strip, in this Oct. 16,
2004 file photo. Amnesty International on
Wednesday, May 25, 2005 accused
Israeli soldiers operating  in the Palestinian
territories of committing war
crimes, including unlawful killings, torture,
destruction of property and
targeting  medical personnel. The London-based
human right's group's report
for  2004 also condemned the deliberate targeting
of Israeli civilians by
Palestinian militants as a crime against
humanity.



Controversy  over Indian rights in Connecticut
recently  intensified when
the federal government reversed its recognition
of Stonington's Eastern 
Pequots and Kent-based Schaghticoke tribes.
Overall, officials and the
public  appear pleased. Attorney General Richard
Blumenthal said, “One
reason  this is so historic is because no
positive recognition decision has
been  reversed before. This is a first for the
nation, which makes it all
the more  significant and satisfying,” according
to The Litchfield County
Times.

Clearly,  it's not satisfying for Connecticut's 
indigenous peoples as their
rights and attachment to the land continue to be 
challenged even centuries
after first contact with European settlers.

Due-process  arguments put into high relief the
irony experienced by
America's native peoples in obtaining
recognition: they must prove they
exist. They  must demonstrate that their people
and cultures actually
survived government intentions to eradicate them
and seize land on which
survival depended.

Meanwhile,  the original injustice is submerged
in a bureaucratic system
organized to  disavow it: even applying for BIA
recognition costs millions,
encouraging  many tribes to resort to casino
investors despite their
corruption of traditional native values. Indian
participation (let alone
success) in this admittedly suspect process
arouses only insecurity and
hostility among my non-Indian Kent  neighbors.
Tellingly, references to
original dispossession and the enduring 
traumatic impact of European
contact are circumvented. Expressions of 
collective responsibility or
apologies are absent.

Most  Americans experience a kind of collective
denial about our shameful
history.  Yet its legacy lives dangerously on —
not just at home but also in
our  foreign policy.

As  Attorney General Blumenthal began challenging
Schaghticoke recognition, 
then-Palestinian presidential candidate Mahmoud
Abbas was visiting some of 
the 400,000 Palestinian refugees in camps in
Lebanon,  reassuring them that
their right to return to their homes in what is
now Israel would  not be
abandoned in future negotiations.

There  are more than 6 million Palestinian
refugees who have been waiting to
go home  since the 1947-49 Naqba(“catastrophe”). 
Most refugees live within
60 miles of their former homes, some close enough 
to see and weep for lost
orchards and fields.

Like America's  native peoples, Palestinians bear
the burden of proof of
their existence and  right to their ancestral
lands.

Possession  of keys and deeds, or official
registration as refugees with the
U.N. haven't  succeeded. Neither has
international law. In fact, in keeping
with several  bodies of law, the U.N. explicitly
conditioned Israel's 1949
U.N. admittance on  its implementation of
Resolution 194 affirming
Palestinians' inalienable  right to return home.
Despite this, Israel has
refused to allow its  native peoples to return.
The U.S.  has implicitly
supported this since the Truman administration.

Indeed,  American Indian dispossession is older
than that of the
Palestinians. But the  same national formative
act — and its denial —
constitute a  significant component of the
“special relationship” touted 
between the U.S. and Israel. This denial begs
attention to fully explicate
the complacency of American foreign  policy in
the face of undeniable
antipathy toward the U.S. that has only grown
since the invasion  and
occupation of Iraq.

Like  Americans, Israelis “know” what their own
historians have amply 
documented: Palestinian dispossession is the
foundation of their state. 
Between 1947 and 1949, more than 75 percent of
the native population was 
expelled by Zionist forces that seized their
lands for exclusive 
Jewish-Israeli use. Then, in 1967, 35 percent of
the population of 
Palestinian Gaza and the West Bank were  forced
out, some made refugees
twice in a generation.

But for  Palestinians and Israelis, this colonial
past is present.

Every  day since 1967, the 3.3 million
Palestinians in the Occupied 
Territories continue to experience  the
post-modern version of manifest
destiny: 400,000 Jewish settlers  facilitate an
ongoing Israeli land grab —
200,000 during the Oslo “peace” period. In the
past four years alone, Israel
  confiscated over 56,000 acres of Palestinian
land, razed another 18,000
acres  of farmland, uprooted over 1.1 million
trees. Over 250 miles of
Israeli-only  bypass roads and hundreds of
checkpoints have created more
than 200 disconnected  Palestinian reservations.
Even if Israel  evacuates
Gaza, Prime Minister Sharon insists  that the
huge (illegal) West Bank 
settlements will stay. His intention is
underscored by the 
soon-to-be-completed “separation” wall, which
will seize another  15 percent
of West Bank land and leave  600,000 Palestinians
in an open-air prison
between it and the Green Line.

Meanwhile,  Israel's  non-Jewish citizens cannot
rent, own or live on
“state” lands  reserved exclusively for Jews — 93
percent of the country.
Under Israel's Law of Return, any Jew born
anywhere  can immigrate to Israel
  and become a citizen, yet indigenous refugees
cannot go home.

Why  does Israel  continue violating
international law? Its answer embraces
that historically  familiar — but no less
ethnocentric — assertion: to
maintain its  “Jewish” character. Yet even within
the Green Line, Israel is 
now, and has always been, a multicultural land
where about 28 percent of its
  citizens are non-Jews, including at least 20
percent who are Palestinian.

But to  the world's formerly colonized people —
the vast majority of the 
world's population—there's strong identification
with the injustice to 
Palestinians that sustains hostility toward
Israel  and the U.S.,  and
threatens the security of Americans as well as
Israelis. At the deepest 
psychological level, American Indians and
Palestinians bear witness to the 
fact that human attachment to home and land can
neither be dismissed nor 
divided by politicians with impunity.

But  it's not too late. Israel  has not reached
the entrenched U.S.
condition that reduced  American Indians to less
than 1 percent of our
population (about a third of  whom live on
reservations to which they were
confined over a century ago). Instead, 78 percent
of Jewish-Israelis occupy
only 15 percent of the country,  making it
feasible for Palestinian refugees
to return to largely unoccupied  land with little
displacement of Israelis
living there now. Sharing the land  is a matter
of fairness and
international will, not viability.

Like  the European colonization of America,  the
colonization of Palestine 
began with the imperial mindset that particularly
flourished in the 19th 
century. We give Israel  billions of dollars
annually in aid, weapons and
political support to  underwrite those
19th-century colonial practices for
which, surely, most 21st  century Americans and
Europeans are ashamed,
however much they may want to  forget.

We  cannot return to colonial America  to undo
the degradation of our own
native peoples. But we can act to make  sure
ethnic cleansing doesn't
continue in Palestine, now, in our names and with
our  money.

Justine McCabe, Ph.D., is a cultural
anthropologist and  clinical
psychologist who lives in New Milford. 
========

__________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around
http://mail.yahoo.com


YAHOO! GROUPS LINKS




Reply via email to