Reflections on Germany, Part 1: The legacy of the Holocaust

(Introductory note: From June 7 to June 13, 2015 I visited Germany at the invitation of the German Foreign Office as part of an international group of 16 Jewish community and civil society leaders, representing nations from Uzbekistan and the Ukraine to Argentina,  Australia, Canada and Slovenia.  My fellow participants, both Jews and non-Jews, as well as our guides, brought a wide range of perspectives and ideas to the experience, something for which I shall be eternally grateful. In this first piece in a short series on my time in Germany, I look at the impact of the Holocaust on the country and how the experience and its lessons continue to reverberate today)

 

At a city bus stop in Berlin, Germany those waiting for their bus are reminded of the crimes of the Nazi party which were often orchestrated in the city and carried out across Europe. Image copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.  

In my life, I have learned about the Holocaust many times, in many ways: I have met survivors, read books, visited memorials and museums in the US and Israel. And when I traveled to Germany this past week I added another piece to the puzzle, the seemingly ceaseless question of how and why this maniacal, murderous vision found such fertile ground in the soil of Europe, and how those inhuman ideas led not only to the murder of millions of Jews, Poles, Slavs and others, but to the very destruction of Germany as it existed. A week is not much time to explore any place, and Germany, which I found to be a fascinating, complex nation, certainly requires more time to comprehend. That being said, in the time I spent there, speaking with people and visiting important historic landmarks, I do think I gained a few insights, and like any good learning experience, I walked away with many more questions than answers.

More so than if I had been travelling alone, or with a group comprised solely of other Americans, the diverse nature of my company added immensely to the quality of the experience I had. These new friends, who shared amazing family and personal stories of connections to the Holocaust or experience with totalitarian regimes enriched my experience in innumerable ways.

At the site of the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe in former East Berlin, visitors are invited to walk among 2,711 blocks of gray stone. Image copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.

On my first morning in Berlin we took a bus tour of the city and I was immediately struck by the degree to which memories and images of the Holocaust were woven into the fabric of the city itself. Apart from formal memorials and museums, there were reminders at city bus stops and under the feet of pedestrians in the form of Stolpersteine's, small memorial stones placed in locations where individuals killed or persecuted by the Nazis lived. Honoring the memory of both victims and those who resisted the Third Reich, these “stumbling stones” make it impossible for anyone walking through Berlin to ignore the Jews, members of the LGBT community, Communists, Roma, Jehovah’s Witnesses and others whose lives were either lost or changed forever simply by virtue of who they were. 

The Stolpersteine project by artist Gunter Demnig honors victims of the Nazis in cities around the world. In the image above several stones can be seen on a sidewalk in Frankfurt, Germany. Image copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.

During my trip I had a chance to see a new one of these Stolpersteine laid by Gunter Demnig, the artist who created this project, at a moving ceremony attended by the daughter and granddaughter of Hans and Ruth Gosler, who were murdered by the Nazis. More than just a memorial stone or point of curiosity for visitors, these artifacts are a daily reminder to everyone walking by the homes of these victims that they were not some abstract “other” person, but real people who walked down these very same sidewalks, who may even have lived in the same buildings or houses that they do today. I like this way of honoring Nazi victims because it has a solid and (quite literally) grounded feel – there is really nothing abstract about it, which is part of the appeal.

Artist Gunter Demnig lays one of his Solpersteine's (literally "Stumbling block") in honor of Hans and Ruth Goslar who perished in the Shoah. Attendees included members of the Goslar family, as well as the Ambassador of the Netherlands to Germany, German government officials, students and teachers from a local school and others. Image copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.

The memorial, which was created by architect Peter Eisenmen was designed so that visitors are swallowed up by the stone blocks around them as they walk. Image copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.

By contrast, I was struck by the way that several other memorials and museums we visited used the idea of “disorientation”  in rather abstract ways to evoke the Shoah and its attendant dread and confusion. I first noticed this when we stopped at the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, a massive field of stone columns spreading out before us, with the ground below dipping in the middle, creating a sense, as one walked among the stones, of sinking down into an unknown place, of the walls collapsing and the sun blotted out. I felt this again at the Jewish Museum in Berlin, where the section on the Holocaust was set in a lower level of the building, with the floors purposely at angles, seemingly to disorient the visitor and convey a sense of confusion, and once more in the outdoor “Garden of Exile,” at the museum where a similar technique to the one employed at the memorial in East Berlin makes visitors feel off-kilter and unsettled.

At first, my reaction to this theme of “disorientation” and abstract representations of the Shoah was wholly unfavorable. I walked away feeling that while it was perhaps true for the victims of the Shoah there was a profound sense of instability as they saw their families, friends and very existence being destroyed before their eyes. Yet at the same time, for the perpetrators of this crime, both those who led the effort and the vast, vast majority of those who went along with it, there was nothing disorienting at all about the experience. In fact, for the Nazis and their collaborators, what they were doing was not an attempt at destroying the world, but a carefully planned effort to impose upon Europe – and whatever other parts of the globe they could reach – a carefully ordered new reality, reflective of their own deeply disturbed ideas about race, religion and identity. That such notions are abhorrent does not mean they were illogical to those who held them. My worry is that if someone were to visit only these memorials which are largely devoid of context and explanation, they would come away from the experience thinking that the Holocaust was unique not because it represented the horrific ultimate expression of hate, intolerance and centuries of anti-Semitism in Europe, but rather because Hitler was a master manipulator who was somehow able to brainwash otherwise normal people into doing abnormal things in a topsy-turvy world in which no one had freewill.

In my final analysis,  I’m not sure how worried I am  that visitors are likely to base their total understanding of the Shoah solely on these kinds of memorials and exhibits, since there are other places which do explain, with great clarity and depth, the events of the Holocaust.  Taken together, things like the Stolperstein and the East Berlin memorial work best in concert,  speaking to both head and heart about what took place in Germany some 70 years ago.

A round-table discussion on fighting Anti-Semitism and Promoting Democracy included, among others, German journalist Anetta Kahane and Israeli journalist Daniel Dagan. Image copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.

I also had the chance to hear from leaders in civil society and the Jewish community, about how the legacy of the Holocaust influences the community today and its relationship with the German government. For Germans, it is abundantly clear from many conversations that a great deal of shame and guilt exists in the country when it comes to the Shoah – whether expressed in the form of philo-Semitism, outright Anti-Semitism, or a quiet sense of injustice, my sense was that the way that Germans seem to feel about this period in their history is complicated and continues to play a significant role in modern German identity, even for those who were born long after the end of World War II.

When documentary series on the Shoah began to be shown in Germany the reaction of many young Germans, who had been taught very little about the Holocaust, was one of guilt, and members of the Jewish community we met with spoke of how this impacted their non-Jewish friends. It was hard to judge to what extent these previous experiences with hyper-xenophobia and identity are applied when it comes to contemporary questions around immigration and identity in Germany. Although I asked a few people if the experience with the Holocaust was having an impact today, for example, on relations with the large immigrant Turkish population in the country, I didn’t get much of a clear answer.

After decades of sitting in disrepair the Max Liebermann Villa and grounds have been authentically restored in Potsdam, Germany. Image copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.

The former home of the artist Max Liebermann now stands as a monument  cerebrating the work and life of his tremendously influential Jewish artist. Image copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.

In another part of this series I intend to explore what I learned about Jewish life in Germany today,  but it is clear that the impact of these events goes far beyond the physical destruction of buildings and lives lost, raising very painful questions about identity for a community whose antecedents often saw themselves as "Germans with Jewish religion.”  During a visit to the villa of the German-Jewish painter Max Liebermann in Potsdam, located just a short walk from the house where Hitler and his generals planned the final destruction of the Jewish people at the Wansee Conference in January of 1942, I was reminded of this. As one of the informational boards at the museum noted, Liebermann clearly saw what was coming in his country and lamented shortly before his death in 1935 that the dream of true assimilation for Jews in Germany was lost.

At the front gate of a home not far from the Max Liebermann Villa a sign in German, English and Hebrew tells passersby that this was the site of the January 20, 1942 meeting presided over by Reynhard Heydrich, at which the Nazis finalized details for their plans to murder all the Jews of Europe. Image Copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.

Through the bars of this gate the home were the Wannsee Conference took place can be seen. Image copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.

However one views the particular ways in which Germany has chosen to engage with and memorialize this history and these crimes against humanity, it is abundantly evident that they have not shied away from this experience and what it did to the world. Throughout the trip, often in conversation with other participants or in speaking with community leaders, I experienced a wide range of emotions, but one of the stranger things I felt was a sense of gratitude – gratitude that the majority of my family left Europe  before the war, gratitude that I had a chance to see for myself what Germany is like today, and gratitude that the same spirit that sent the Partisans into the forest to fight the Nazis and inspired righteous gentiles to risk their own lives to save the persecuted, still seems to exist in Europe.

It would have been easy, I think, for Germany to present the Shoah in fairly black and white terms – portraying the Nazis and their allies as a malevolent force beyond comprehension and everyone else as hapless victims. Instead, I saw this determination to fight back against hate and intolerance in both leaders and ordinary citizens, whether discussing the problem of growing Islamist Anti-Semitic ideology in Germany among a small segment of the community, or when we emerged from a train station to find fresh anti-Semitic graffiti spray-painted on a sign marking the location of Rothschild Park in Berlin.  The energy, the focus that I saw and felt in these cases was perhaps the most encouraging example of the idea that Germany is a far different country than the nation which sought to murder or enslave a significant part of the world’s population, laying waste to Europe in its path.

An information sign about the Rothschild Family, defaced with 

Anti-Semitic, Anti-Israel graffiti. Image copyright Daniel E. Levenson 

2015.

The truth is that Germany will never be free of its association with the National Socialists or the damage they did, but there is honor, I believe, in how the German government and many of the German people have responded to this legacy in the last few decades. At first reluctant to look into the mirror from the late 1940’s to the late 1960’s, through reparations, education and diplomacy, Germany has shown that it understands it is responsible for what happened in the war and Shoah. We must not, and cannot, ever forgive those who designed and executed the Holocaust – from the leaders of the Nazi party, to willing Hungarian and Ukrainian collaborators, to otherwise “normal” Poles who murdered surviving Jews attempting to come home after the war. I do think, however, that those of us in the Jewish community (and many other communities) who care about these things have an important opportunity to engage in a dialogue with Germany and Germans not only on the Shoah specifically, but more broadly on issues of democracy, civil society and totalitarianism.

Graffiti on a poster protests a planned Neo-Nazi rally this month in Frankfurt, Germany. Image copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015. 

A poster In Frankfurt, Germany calling attention to an upcoming Neo-Nazi rally and asking people to come and protest it, highlights both the continued existence of Nazi ideas at the fringes of society, as well as the willingness to speak out against hate in 2015. Image copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.

Perhaps this is the most emotionally complex lesson and inheritance of the Shoah, that those of us who live after the devastation of the Holocaust, whether as a survivor or someone born 60 years later, bear a responsibility not only to remember the humanity of the victims and the cruelty of the perpetrators, but to speak up when we see racism, intolerance hate today. Some people have written that the only real response to the horror of the Holocaust is silence, that words cannot begin to help us understand or process what happened in this period, but the real lesson of the Shoah is that silence is not an option, not then and not now. It is a lesson that is at the core of any healthy civil society, and one which was clearly on display in many parts of Berlin, Frankfurt and Potsdam.

Copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.

Preparing for the complexity of Germany

This weekend I’m headed to Germany at the invitation of the German Foreign Office and the German Consulate in Boston, to learn about contemporary Jewish life in the country. As part of a group of twenty Jewish communal leaders from around the world, I’ll have the opportunity to meet with scholars, journalists and clergy, as well as civic and community leaders, in an effort to get as holistic a view as possible of the country today. Or at least the best sense one can get in 7 days – but looking at the itinerary, which includes opportunities to explore both Berlin and Frankfurt, experiencing cultural and historic sites, it looks like the organizers of the trip are focused on providing a wide range of opportunities to see the country from many different angles.

When I first learned that this trip might be a possibility I spent a good deal of time thinking about how to prepare for it – whether I should look for a good history of the country, talk to others who had been there, etc. in the end I settled on reading the World section of the New York Times to see the latest news on what’s happening in the country and at the recommendation of the former director of AJC in Boston, I ordered a copy of an interesting book called “The Germans” by Gordon A. Craig, which offers a succinct, erudite overview of various aspects of German history and culture.  

One idea in this book that really caught my attention was Craig’s suggestion that the mass trauma inflicted by the 30 Years War (in the mid-17^th century) was passed down from one generation to the next, finding perhaps its most horrific expression in the sense of obedience to central authority that abetted the rise of Hitler and the Third Reich. Another really fascinating aspect of the book was its exploration of how the German people themselves dealt with this inclination toward obedience following World War Two and the ways in which it influenced their sense of national identity, attitudes toward the military and ideas about political reform. I also spoke with friends who had visited Berlin in the last few years who talked non-stop about the vibrancy of the city as a major center of cultural and artistic creativity.

As I finish packing there are any number of thoughts going through my mind about what it will be like to actually be there and what I will learn from the local people, as well as our tour guides and my fellow participants. I’m also looking forward to having some time during the week to pause and reflect about what I’m learning and seeing, although I imagine that with such a packed schedule the bulk of my reflection will come once I am back in the United States. In 2015 the temptation also exists to retreat into smart phones and other electronic devices, something which I plan to try and avoid – I’ll be sharing some thoughts and photos via Twitter (@DanielELevenson) as the week goes on, and I may post short pieces on this blog, but as much as possible I plan to immerse myself in the experience and spend time absorbing everything around me.

Whenever I speak or write about Israel (the country other than my own which I happen to know best) I am always reminded of the intense complexity of the Jewish State and its people – so it is for other nation-states, especially in the case of those which have entered the modern era with a complicated and conflicted history, a category which clearly includes Germany. It is this complicated past and the ways that Germans navigate their sense of individual and communal identity today that fascinates me, something I look forward to sharing my thoughts on here on 36 Voices.

Copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.

Visiting Germany to better understand the past, as well as the present

In May of 2015 departing German Consul General Rolf Schutte thanked friends and colleagues at a reception held at the Goethe Institute in Boston, Massachusetts. Image copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.

In a little more than one week I depart for Germany -  a someway strange thing to write, and perhaps even stranger to contemplate. And yet, this trip feels oddly natural: As someone who has taken on many different volunteer and professional leadership roles in the Jewish community, I figured in the back of my mind that one day I would visit Germany, but I had no idea when or how. Within my own family, my maternal grandparents traveled all over Europe, but as far as I know they never went to Germany, while my great aunt Betty, an inveterate world traveler, visited both East and West Berlin. It’s a little embarrassing to admit, but I don't know whether any of the family members who stayed behind when my great-grandparents came to America survived or perished in World War Two or the Holocaust - I do know that sometime in the 1920's or 1930's the last letters from those who remained in Eastern Europe, written in Yiddish and describing conditions of desperation and poverty arrived, followed by silence.

So for me, Germany - as well as Poland and Russia and the Baltics - sit in my mind like distant ghosts shrouded in a fog, present, but somehow not quite real. In thinking of these places I am reminded of "A Tale of Love and Darkness," the great, sad memoir of Amos Oz, in which he evokes the vanished Europe of his mother's youth, rendering it as some combination of terra incognita, mythic homeland and blighted landscape.

In most of my work and writing I tend to focus on events in the Middle East and North Africa, sometimes touching on Central Asia and Europe where relevant, but when an opportunity to visit Germany came up, at the invitation of the former German Consul General to New England Rolf Schutte and the German Foreign Office, I jumped at the opportunity to go and see for myself what Germany looks (and feels) like today.  But it's not only this invitation from someone for whom I have great respect and admiration that made me want to go - there are other important factors as well. In my work for the American Jewish Committee, the Israeli Consulate and the Jewish Federation I've had the chance to get to know several representatives, both official and otherwise, of Germany, and in getting to know them I've been struck by the ways in which they connect with the Jewish community are not for show but have real meaning and depth.

The connections that I saw Mr. Schutte and his predecessor, Friedrich Lohr, form with Jewish organizations and individuals, was not merely intellectual, but clearly based on mutual respect and genuine friendship. This was on display at the farewell reception for Mr. Schutte, which was attended by Israeli Consul General Yehuda Yaakov and Israel Arbeiter, a leading figure in the Holocaust survivor community in Boston. As I stood there listening to remarks by friends and colleagues of the departing Consul General, especially those who represented the Jewish community, I was struck by the impact that German diplomacy has had, at least in New England, in furthering German-Jewish relations.

The other thing that makes me feel like I should go to Germany is that there has been a significant revival of Jewish life happening there. I'm sure I'll learn more about the composition and character of this revitalized community while there, but I'm especially looking forward to meeting Israelis who've made their homes in places like Berlin and finding out more about what it's like to be Jewish in Europe today.

When I come back from Germany I plan to write more about the experience and share some of what I saw, learned and felt, and when I'm in Berlin, Frankfurt and Potsdam I'll try to Tweet (@DanielELevenson). I hope that if you find this topic to be of interest that you will follow along with me on social media. I don’t know exactly what I will find when I get to Germany, but I'm looking forward to learning as much about the present and future of Jewish life in Germany, as I am about the past.

Copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.

A Review of Anand Gopal's "No Good Men Among the Living"

In more ways than we can imagine, the course of history following the September 11, 2001 attacks and the 14 years of ensuing war in Afghanistan have shaped not only the lives of tens of thousands American military personnel and their families, but those of the people of Afghanistan as well. While events in this far-flung, mountainous nation have drifted in and out of the national consciousness as the extent and nature of U.S. involvement waxes and wanes, for the ordinary people who live in Kabul and Kandahar and any number of small villages, the war that began following the Al-Qaeda assault on New York and Washington is a constant presence.

In his book "No Good Men Among The Living," by Anand Gopal, it is life in this climate of violent instability and its impact on the people of Afghanistan, that takes center stage. While the media has profiled individual Afghans in newspapers and magazines, it is in this book-length exploration of the lives of three individuals doing their best to survive, that we get a sense of what it must be like to live life perpetually at the edge of ruin. At its core, this is a book about survival in every sense- emotional, political, physical and intellectual - in a landscape of constantly shifting allegiances, norms and rules.

It is on this shaky ground that Gopal introduces us to the person who may be the most compelling figure in the book, a woman by the name of "Heela," who sees her life and family torn apart by the war, shattering her comfortable, middle-class urban reality and condemning her to one of rural poverty, misogyny and fear. One of the brilliant things about this book is that Gopal humanizes issues by taking us into the lives of individuals, but also manages to tie what's happening on a small scale in someone's life to larger challenges in Afghan society.

One area where he does this well is in regard to the treatment and status of women, highlighting the clash that occurs when traditional ideas and male-dominated leadership structures come into contact (and often conflict) with modern, western ideas about the role of women in society. On this topic, Gopal writes, "For the ancient Pashtun mountain families, anything that marauding rivals could plunder was worth protecting and controlling - and this included women. Females were a family commodity; in some cases mountain clans even tattooed their animals and their women with the sane markings."

By providing historical context, the author helps us to better understand the present era in Afghan life, which is valuable considering that most coverage of the country today tends to lack both depth and nuance. Gopal does a service to his readers as well in offering a succinct overview of the legacy of damage left behind in the wake of the Afghan-Soviet conflict, the ghosts of Russian infantry and Soviet hegemony constantly whispering around the edges of his narrative. It was from the rubble of this earlier conflict that the modern Taliban would build their base of support, providing a sense of order in an otherwise chaotic place. Gopal observes that,  "In times of strife, taliban have usually mobilized in defense of tradition. British documents from as early as 1901 decry Taliban opposition to colonialism in present-day Pakistan. However, as with so much else, it was the Soviet invasion and US response that sent the transformative shock." This is a theme that appears again and again throughout this work, and Gopal presents a credible argument that while the history of the region is rife with violence and instability at every level, that this sequence of events has had a uniquely deleterious and perhaps permanent impact on the country.

Throughout the text he stays focused on the lives of his characters and the ways in which external forces, from senior Pakistani intelligence officials to provincial governors, tribal leaders and the US military influence their lives on a daily basis. This feeling of uncertainty, of being at the mercy of outside powers, echoes throughout the book and is illustrated in his portrayal of a Taliban leader called "Mullah Cable," who earned his nom de guerre by carrying around a whip to hit people he encountered who were, in his mind, engaging in "un-Islamic" behavior. For this man, the thirty years of war which have engulfed his country lead to a dizzying and often dispiriting array of highs and lows as he fought against US troops and endured starvation-level poverty.

None of the people presented in this book are hapless or cartoonish. The genius of Gopal's book is that while he could have easily slipped into stereotypical descriptions or coasted in places, he assiduously avoids such literary laziness, bringing the reader into the darkened rooms and conflicted mind of a widow entirely dependent on her husband's family for her survival, of a former Taliban commander forced back to the battlefield by abject poverty and of an anti-Taliban activist who sought to reform the political structure of his country at considerable risk to his own life. In doing this he humanizes the tragic trajectory of life in a perpetual war zone, bringing those of us for whom the war, and its consequences, seem impossibly distant, closer to the reality of life in Afghanistan. 

His work is also important because it provides a glimpse into a war in which thousands of American and allied forces were killed or seriously injured trying to uproot the Taliban and rebuild the country, all from a different angle than most media coverage. In telling the stories of these ordinary afghans he is contributing to our understanding of this complex and devastating war, and for this he deserves our thanks.

Copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.

At the EMK Institute in Boston, Senator Mitch McConnell and bipartisanship

The new Edward M. Kennedy Institute for the U.S. Senate features an accurate replica of the U.S. Senate Chamber. Image copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.

Anyone who has read something of the history of the United States Senate probably knows that it is an institution which sees itself as playing a unique role in the history of the country, a place where time-honored traditions set the tone and rules. Recently, an organization devoted to the history and study of this venerable body, the Edward M. Kennedy Institute for the United States Senate, opened its doors in a spacious building on the campus of the University of Massachusetts at Boston, right next to the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library. With a replica of the Senate Chamber at its center, the Institute feels like it was designed to accomplish 3 main goals: to honor the work of the Senate, to educate visitors, and to provide a venue for events and programs. 

This weekend I had the opportunity to attend the first event in the Institute's Getting to the Point series, a talk by Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-Kentucky). The senator was introduced by Victoria Reggie Kennedy, President of the Board of Trustees, who introduced him by recounting Senator McConnell's path to becoming Senate Majority Leader. Senator McConnell took the floor next, fondly recalling his late colleague Senator Edward M. Kennedy, offering his assessment that the replica of the Senate at the institute looks remarkably similar to the real thing, and reminiscing about his early days as a young senator.  

In this atmosphere of such intense partisanship it was frankly refreshing to hear a member of the United States Senate speak openly about bipartisan cooperation in a public forum. Senator McConnell talked about his love for the Senate as an institution, calling it the "... place where our country comes together to confront some of its most complex, intractable problems." Such sentiments are as important as they are rare these days, which is to say quite important and all too rare.

Senator McConnell also reflected on the impact that the Civil Rights movement had on his life and decision to continue his pursuit of a career in public service, recounting his experience of being in the room when President Johnson signed the Voting Rights Act in 1965 and his decision at the time to invite both Republicans and Democrats to the ceremony.

Toward the end of the event Senator McConnell sat down with New York Times reporter Jackie Calmes to answer audience questions on a wide range of topics. image copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.

Overall Senator McConnell's remarks highlighted the degree to which bipartisan cooperation was easier in an earlier era in the senate. In his remarks McConnell also mentioned how in his view the image presented by 24-hour cable news channels, with a strong emphasis on partisanship, makes it seem as though political leaders view their colleagues across the aisle in a completely negative light, which he insisted is not true. In my mind, from the outside it's hard to tell how much the 24-hour news cycle  does distort our image of politics and the degree of partisanship which actually exists in Congress, but I suspect that there is more than a kernel of truth in Senator McConnell's remarks.  At the same time, media reports of partisan gridlock are clearly not constructed out of whole cloth. The program drew to a close with Senator McConnell sitting with New York Times reporter Jackie Calmes and answering audience questions on topics ranging from the Patriot Act and wiretapping, to the national debt and government shutdowns.

Boston has no shortage of august venues or important institutions that host speakers on nearly every topic under the sun, from the JFK Presidential Library next door to university campuses to Symphony Hall. What sets the EMK Institute apart is clearly its focus on the United States Senate and its role as an educational resource designed to encourage enthusiasm for the legislative process and the difference it can make in the real world. If it can achieve this worthy goal it will make a significant contribution to the lives of those who visit; better still, if it can play a role in encouraging bipartisan or non-partisan cooperation on the most important challenges of our time, then its impact will do much more, contributing to the vitality and well-being of our democracy itself.

Copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.

When weakness matters more than strength in strategy

Strength, and the perception of strength, (in its many forms) is often a decisive factor in international relations. We see it in everything from discussions around trade and economic alliances to decisions about when and where to engage in armed conflict. In these equations, perceptions of weakness are just as important as perceptions of strength. We know this implicitly when comparing and contrasting nation-states as well as stretegies, and it's expressed explicitly when analysts, journalists and decision-makers look at situations like Russian aggression toward the Ukraine and attribute the success of the former, at least partly, to the "weakness" of the latter.  Catching up on the news yesterday out of the Middle East I was struck by two pieces, one in the Times of Israel and another in the Washington Post, which focused on the ways in which perceptions of weakness, as opposed to strength, can play a greater role in strategic decisions by regional powers.

The first thing I read was an opinion piece in the Washington Post by Professor Daniel W. Drezner of Tufts University and The Brookings Institution,  in which he considers recent pronouncements by Iranian officials about the rather shaky state of affairs in Saudi Arabia. As Drezner correctly notes, the Iranians are not the only ones worried about the long-term stability of the House of Saud, a top-heavy monarchy which has long maintained control and relative peace within its borders by quietly appeasing extremist elements internally and playing an out-sized economic role globally. There is no love lost between Iran and Saudi Arabia (or between Iran  and the Gulf Countries, for that matter), with the each nation consistently fearful of the growing influence of the another. In this sense, Iran's playing up the weakness of its rival/enemy Saudi Arabia fits neatly into the narrative of this larger conflict.

Since 1979 Iran has often sought to play a meedleseome role in the stability of neighbours, demonstrating a marked proclivity for covert action, both directly and through proxy groups such as Hezbollah - they're also prone to outbursts of hyperbolic rhetoric and the occasional display of naval power, as well as in the last decade devoting considerable resources to the pursuit of nuclear weapons. Attempting to foment instability is nothing new for Tehran, so perhaps along with the aforementioned bag of dirty tricks, bluster and nuclear ambition, they are adding something else to the mix: open efforts to encourage instability within Saudi Arabia by attempting to shift global perceptions of the monarchy there. Personally, I don't think such a strategy will be the decisive factor in the downfall of the Saudi regime, when and if it does happen. Nor would I call bombastic statements by Iranian  officials to a particularly novel or sophisticated tactic, but if it does become a  standard tool of Tehran it will be one more facet of Iranian hegemony that other regional powers, as well as the West, will have to take into account in assessing Iranian actions and intentions.

The second piece focusing on "weakness" which caught my attention was Mitch Ginsburg's analysis of the current situation on the Israel-Lebanon border, published by the Times of Israel. Ginsburg examines the balance of tension between Hezbollah forces and the IDF, in which events in Syria, as well as the strategic goals of Tehran, play a role. Citing analysis from  senior Israeli military officers that recent restrain on the part of Hezbollah is attributable to the group's primary patron, Iran, which worries that a war between Israel and Hezbollah would weaken the latter to the point where it could not serve as an effective deterrent against a potential Israeli strike on Iran's nuclear facilities. In this case, it is not rhetorical accusations of weakness that have the potential to lead to greater regional instability, but the actual weakening of Hezbollah, which could lead to additional risky action, such as their apparent efforts to lay a mine targeting IDF patrols over this past weekend. The possibility also exists that Israel will take advantage of the fact that Iran is restraining Hezbollah, along with the loss of many Hezbollah fighters in Syria, to launch a more thorough assault on the group in southern Lebanon.

However one looks at the calculus of power in the Middle East there are always innumerable factors to take into account. Very often the focus is entirely on the perceived strength of a regional power - how many submarines does country "x" have? How good is the air defense system if country "Y" ? These are important questions, but we must also look at weaknesses, both real and perceived, and the ways in which these views and analyses are actively used by rivals and enemies, if we are to have a clear picture of the region.

Copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.

HBS Conference considers MidEast conflict through lens of economic engagement and civil society

For decades - centuries really - visionaries and mad men have wrestled with how to achieve a lasting peace in the Middle East. Some have tried force, others diplomacy, but I have long thought that one of the more important aspect of any successful peace effort between Israel and the Palestinians will require not merely the cessation of hostilities, but a normalization of relations. This is certainly not a unique suggestion, but it is one that often gets lost in the discussion about security fences, rockets and land. One key element of normalized relations will be economic engagement, something that a group of Harvard graduate students highlighted at the Prosperity for Peace conference, held at Harvard Business School this weekend and co-sponsored by the Department of Near Eastern Languages and Civilizations at Harvard University, McKinsey & Company, Harvard Hillel, the Government and Public Policy Club at HBS, The Boston Consulting Group, the Center for Middle Eastern Studies at Harvard University and Combined Jewish Philanthropies.

Opening the conference was former Harvard President Lawrence H. Summers, who focused on the importance of the US remaining engaged in the Middle East, despite the multitude of vexing and complex challenges in the region. Summers argued that America has a vital stake in the future of this part of the world for a number of reasons, including his belief in the importance of Israel's right to exist as an independent Jewish State, the growing cultural influence of Islam around the globe and world-wide economic concerns about energy.

Former Harvard University President Lawrence H. Summers was the opening keynote speaker at the Prosperity for Peace Conference held at Harvard Business School on April 26, 2015. Image copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.

Although Summers highlighted the positive influence that greater business and economic engagement can have on the relationship between Israel and the Palestinians, he adroitly noted that such efforts can only succeed in an environment in which the physical safety of citizens on both sides can be assured. Summers also spoke about the importance of connectivity in bolstering civil society, an idea which may at first seem obvious, but which, in my own experience, is all too often forgotten by civil society actors in their rush to raise funds, steer policy and control how particular issues are covered by the media.

This idea of connection and dialogue is critical to the long-term health of any civil society, and by extension, to the peace process. It serves as a reminder that, as Summers noted, in many ways the relationships (or lack thereof) which underpin the peace talks may play more of a decisive role in the potential success of efforts toward peace than the technical details surrounding the issues themselves.

One of the nice things about the conference was the diverse group of attendees it attracted and the range of speakers who addressed the audience, including Maryam Faghihimani, the daughter of a major religious figure in Iran who talked about what it was like to grow up in an upper-class, religiously conservative family. She told the crowd about the relentless stream of anti-Israel propaganda she was exposed to as a child and young adult, commenting,  "After being exposed to such propaganda, how could one not hate this other country?"  She went on to chronicle how she had experienced her own intellectual awakening as she sought out access to information and ideas from the wider world, including her shock when she discovered during a trip to Lebanon that Iran in fact did support Hezbollah, despite everything she had been told to the contrary. Faghihimani closed by reflecting on all of the things she had been able to achieve in her life, telling the audience she is not pro-Israeli, pro-Palestinian or pro-regime, but pro-democracy.

Bassam Eid and Joshua Hantman were among the panelists at a discussion on frameworks for cooperation around energy, the environment and the law, at the Prosperity for Peace Conference at Harvard Business School. Image copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.

After the opening speakers I wandered over to a panel session looking at Frameworks for cooperation around energy, the environment and the law. The panel of experts for this session was comprised of Professor James K. Sebenius of Harvard Business School, former director of the Palestinian Human Rights Monitoring Group Bassam Eid, Director of the Business and Environment Department at the Peres Centerfor Peace Edan Raviv, Dr. Tara Shirvani of the World Bank and Joshua Hantman,  Director of Corporate Affairs for Cynergy Investments Ltd.

Raviv talked about the challenges he faces in his work encouraging business cooperation between Israeli and Palestinian companies on a very practical level, from securing financing to understanding tax laws to determining where potential partners can meet in person.  He also touched on the ways in which business collaboration has become more difficult in the last decade, as Israelis and Palestinians have had less and less contact with each other, both at a societal and an individual level.

Bassam Eid offered interesting insights into current concerns in Gaza, including his very negative view of the Boycott Divestment Sanctions (BDS) movement. He said emphatically that he does not want to be part of a movement to destroy Israel, citing the vital role that Israel plays in providing both employment opportunities and badly-needed supplies to Gaza, touching on the lack of substantive contributions by Arab leaders.

There are several elements which pose a threat to the potential success of events like the one Raviv described, including the lack of media coverage of such efforts in the Palestinian media, a point echoed by Eid, who was also openly critical of Soda Stream's decision to move out of the West Bank, which had the effect of putting hundreds of Palestinian employees out of work.

But all was not doom and gloom - a number of panelists highlighted the intense interest in both sides for greater business collaboration and connection, which I take as a positive sign. The challenge which remains, though, is finding ways to practically connect potential partners, something that Raviv noted the Peres Center was able to do by organizing a major trade show that drew both Israeli and Palestinian participants this past summer.

In an afternoon session at the Prosperity for Peace Conference at Harvard Business School an afternoon session featured a panel of experts discussing the intersection of education, business and co-existence. Image copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.

Sir Ronald Cohen also addressed the conference,discussing his his belief in the importance of trying to influence the peace process by looking at the conflict through an economic lens, taking into account the relationship between support for extremism and conditions of poverty, as well as the vast potential for economic growth within the Palestinian Territories.  From his remarks it was clear that Sir Ronald believes that the political leadership on both sides represent an impediment to peace, based partly in their own stake in maintaining the status quo. 

He also told the audience that he felt the Israeli withdrawal from Gaza was seen as a litmus test within Israel as to what might happen if Israel were to withdraw from the West Bank, and given the outcome of the Gaza withdrawal, Israeli leaders are scared of what might happen if Israel withdrew from the West Bank.  In this, I agree with him - given the results of the Gaza withdrawal, which included the violent political ascendancy of Hamas, rocket attacks on Israel and the tunnels - I don't think too many responsible Israeli leaders would come anywhere close to replicating the same conditions in the West Bank.

"If we can't leave war to generals, then we can't leave peace to politicians," Sir Ronald Cohen noted, making a good argument that in order to achieve peace, forces outside of the political establishment need to play a role in moving the process forward.

Philanthropist and thinker Sir Ronald Cohen discussed ways that building economic ties and encouraging business collaboration between Israelis and Palestinians can contribute to peace at the Prosperity for Peace at Harvard Business School. Image copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.

In many ways this was the message I took away from the conference – that in this long-simmering, sometimes explosive, perennially intractable conference, there is not only room, but perhaps a need, for a greater role on the part of civil society actors. I do think there is something to be said for wider participation in the peace process by leaders in business, education and other fields, (on both sides of the conflict) but I’m personally not optimistic that these sectors of society will play a decisive role in the final push to peace. In highlighting the contributions that these groups can make to normalization of relations, the organizers of the conference have drawn attention to the roles that they can play: humanizing the other, encouraging greater historical understanding, creating economic incentives to avoid further armed conflict.

This is important, but unless and until the official representatives of both the Palestinians and the Israelis are able to reach real agreement, civil society actors are more likely to improve the lives of individuals or small groups, as opposed to societies as a whole. This does not mean we should ignore NGO’s and educational institutions and business partnerships that reach across national and cultural divides, indeed, far from it – but perhaps we should see their efforts as vital resources kept in reserve for the day when a political solution is reached. Viewed this way, the work that is being done at the level of civil society has an important symbolic value, representing belief in what’s possible, as well as a practical value, banking goodwill and relationships between Israelis and Palestinians that can lead the way to normalized relations down the road.

Copyright Daniel E. Levenson 2015.