Why Apologize?

Some folks at Commentary are, as expected, unhappy that Israel has apologized to Turkey for the deaths of Turkish citizens (and one Turkish-American) on the Mavi Marmara. Jonathan Tobin argues that it means far less than assumed, since the Turks aren’t interested in a genuine reconciliation (though he later wrote that he wasn’t as worried about Israel’s future being endangered by the apology as others on the right are).

On the other hand, Michael Rubin called the apology a “disaster.” Contending that Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyp Erdoğan is “a deeply ideological man who, at his core, does not believe Israel should exist,” he believes that the apology will makes matters much worse for Israel because it emboldens its enemies, including those—like Erdoğan—who facilitate and support terrorism.

There has long been a debate over whether Erdoğan and the AKP more generally are radical Islamists in disguise, or whether they are pragmatic religious conservatives. Rubin seems to follow Daniel Pipes’ perception of Erdoğan as a wild-eyed fanatic bent on re-imposing the Ottoman Empire on the Middle East.

Putting that specific argument aside, Rubin and, to a lesser extent, Commentary pundits generally harbor a vision of Israel that harkens back to Menachem Begin and Yitzhak Shamir—that of a people who dwells alone in the world. In this conceptualization Israel’s rivals, antagonists, and enemies can never be trusted, and so Israel—supported by the Jewish diaspora—must hunker down into a defensive position and never leave the “safety” of its shell. Because when it does, it will always be attacked. Instead, it must wait for others to come around to its own perspective.

This argument is a self-fulfilling prophecy. It doesn’t allow for any Israeli agency or initiative, and it puts Israel at a disadvantage by making it reactive instead of proactive. It prevents Israel from controlling of its own security and forces it to rely on the actions and dictates of others. And, in its darkest moments, it opens the door to accusing those in Israel and abroad who support a less aggressive policy of bad faith, weakness, or ill intent.

There’s no evidence that hunkering down and refusing to engage with others out of anger or fear benefits states. Indeed, it seems more petulant than anything else.

On the apology specifically, there is a growing body of work that explores the benefits of apologies in international relations. It suggests that Jerusalem can be unhappy with Turkish policy and remain at odds on some issues, but still reap several advantages from apologizing.

First, the specific type (or “ritual”) of apology is important, not least because there are cultural differences in how apologies are offered and received (which may, in turn, be at the heart of Rubin’s and others’ negative perception of the issue). There is a world of difference between prostrating oneself before an adversary, and acknowledging mistakes that were made. Recognizing the latter is a common form of communication. Note that Netanyahu’s specific apology was for “operational mistakes” that led to the loss of life. It was not—as Tobin does point out—a recognition of the wrongness of the military action. Nor does it absolve the flotilla members of any responsibility, or say anything about Israel’s future use of force.

Second, apologies of whatever sort are useful for putting embittering issues behind the parties and then moving forward to discuss contemporary issues of importance, or common interests. There is some evidence that acts of contrition can serve as a first step toward reconciliation (though not in all cases), and certainly trust between countries engaged in negotiations is critical to success.

But when an act of violence in particular is left to fester as an act of perfidy in the minds of the group against whom the “crime” was committed, it reifies the violence itself and grows into a larger obstacle to normalization; and the longer it remains the harder it is to overcome. In this case, it’s clear that Israel has much to benefit from improved relations with Turkey (shared intelligence, airspace, trade, to name only a few); allowing the Mavi Marmara affair to continue to block progress on these other fronts is just counter-productive. If the lack of an apology serves to remind Turkish negotiators of Israel’s untrustworthiness and inability to empathize with Turks’ needs (as they see it), then the negotiations are more likely to falter.

Third, apologies between political leaders can trickle down to societies, which may come to view each other in more positive terms. This can have a feedback effect on leaders who wish to account for public opinion. In Turkey’s case, Erdoğan’s populism has long been remarked on. If the Turkish public sees Israel more positively, he, too, will have to incorporate that into his own policies.

Fourth, a country that refuses to acknowledge when it was wrong, or when its actions led to serious and unintended harm to others, is less likely to be taken seriously when it demands the same from others. Terrorism is an ever-present threat to Israelis. Jerusalem cannot expect sympathy and support from others when its citizens are murdered if it doesn’t provide the same. No, I am not saying the deaths on the Mavi Marmara are akin to terrorism. I am putting the killing of civilians in a larger context, and like it or not Israel does have to operate in the broader world of norms and legal structures. If it ignores these norms and laws even in more ambiguous cases such as this one, it will be harder to demand justice for its own causes.

While Turkey under the AKP may well sympathize more with the Palestinians, even Hamas, than Israel, there are still plenty of issues that draw the two countries together that need to be addressed—including terrorism, Syria, Iran, energy, trade, and relations with the United States. It’s simply good foreign policy to recognize the differences between enemies, rivals, friends, and neutrals, and to recognize the importance of common interests.

Perhaps most telling when considering the balance sheet of the Israeli apology is that most Israeli security and political leaders attributed strategic and tactical benefits to one. Avigdor Lieberman was the only main player in Israel who opposes the apology as vehemently as Rubin.

The Resurgence of American Diplomacy in the Middle East

When President Barack Obama announced his trip to Israel, there was widespread speculation for the motivations. I thought it was a grab-bag of reasons, including for domestic political purposes, to connect (finally) with the Jewish-Israeli public, to improve personal relations with Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, and to talk about Iran and Syria.

On these grounds the visit has already been a success. But it seems the trip was about American regional diplomacy at least as much as it was about the American-Israeli relationship. This makes sense: In his second term Obama is looking to shape his legacy, and can now be more proactive—as opposed to reactive, as he was at the onset of the Arab Awakening—in foreign affairs without having to worry about re-election. It’s clear now that the point of the visit was to set the conditions for an improvement in the U.S. position in the region.

For some time analysts have been convinced that the U.S. is on its way out of the Middle East, retreating or simply impotent in the wake of the Arab Awakening. But this argument rests on a consideration of American hard power only, reads Obama’s hesitation in his first term into his second, and ignores Obama’s own modus operandi.

To understand Obama’s foreign policy we need to look at the preference he’s had for engaging with Republicans on domestic policy. Here he’s adopted a patient, low-key role. His habit has been to let other prominent individuals or groups engage in public battles over a given issue, and at some moment near the end move quietly in to offer suggestions—not orders or demands—to both sides of a dispute. In this way, he persuades them that butting heads has not worked, but that compromise will.

Obama’s trip to Israel was an exercise in in this type of American soft power. First, during his time in Israel, he charmed Netanyahu, a man with whom he previously had very tense personal relations. Having created space with its leaders, Obama then gave a stirring speech to Israeli students at the Jerusalem Convention Center. He highlighted the Jewish connection to the area, bore witness to the Jewish/Zionist struggles over time (including their contemporary security concerns), and called on them to act now in the name of Israeli Jewishness and democracy, and justice for Palestinians. These themes were echoed in a shorter speech at Yad Vashem. His visit to sites of memory and identity in Israel also validated Jewish-Israelis’ Zionism.

While critics argue that this is pandering or represent the usual ignoring of Palestinians, connecting with Israeli public opinion is important. No final agreement will be ratified in Israel unless politicians know enough Israelis (particularly Jewish Israelis) are on board with it. Given the skepticism of the Palestinians and the peace process more generally among that cohort, laying the groundwork isn’t just good politics, it’s essential.

Second, at the very end of his trip, Obama brought together Netanyahu and Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdoğan through a phone call that, for all intents and purposes, settled the most outstanding of their immediate disagreements (an Israeli apology for and compensation over the deaths of Turkish citizens killed during the attack on the Mavi Marmara in 2010).

It’s not clear that Obama promised either of the two anything specific, but what he did do was remind Netanyahu and Erdoğan that the region is at a critical moment, and that the two countries have common interests that trump these kinds of disputes. Like a mediator, he made sure that they knew all of their interests—including that of the United States—required coordination, even if it didn’t include full agreement on all issues.

Third, Obama appears to have convinced the Israelis that the Fatah-controlled Palestinian Authority in the West Bank really is their only partner for peace, particularly as Hamas’s regional stature continues to rise. To this end, the Administration has managed to unblock $500 million in aid to the PA, which Congress had previously frozen, at the same time that Jerusalem has decided to resume transfer of tax revenues to the PA, also frozen after Mahmoud Abbas asked the United Nations General Assembly to grant the Palestinians non-observer member state status.

Finally, Obama has publicly discussed bringing the Arab states more directly into the peace process. This will provide political cover for the PA to make unpopular decisions about concessions during talks. But tying the Arab states to the negotiations further isolates Iran, and also gives them a stake in the outcome.

The conventional wisdom is that the Israelis and Palestinians aren’t interested at this point in resolving their conflict, and that the Arab Awakening, Syria, and Iran are forcing the White House to wait on events more than seek to manage them. But Obama’s trip to the region has demonstrated that this isn’t true.

Certainly there is a long way to go before Israelis and Palestinians make peace, before Saudis and Israelis overcome decades of hostility, or even before Israelis and Turks return to full normalized relations. But even still, it’s clear that Obama is preparing a network to support Washington’s leadership vis-à-vis Iran and Syria, and to better respond to the Arab Awakening.

He’s done all this quietly, by lowering expectations beforehand, and by convincing Israelis, Palestinians, Turks, and Arabs that they share common goals. This is the essence of persuasion. Obama’s ability to project American hard power in the region might be fading, but that’s not the case with American soft power.

Obama’s Successes in Israel

At Open Zion I argue that Barack Obama’s trip to Israel was very successful:

On Twitter, Blake Hounshell asked if President Barack Obama’s trip to Israel was a “huge” success or not. I think we first have to define what we mean by “success.” But by the definition that Obama himself set out, albeit vaguely, and the unforeseen consequences, I think it was, certainly, a “huge success.”

In fact, it was this very vagueness that underlined the success. By downplaying expectations of any dramatic new initiatives on any policy issue, Obama laid the groundwork for excitement whenever he did touch on these (whether Iran or the peace process). By pulling back from an active American role, he also helped Israelis feel in control of their foreign policy at a time when the country has been subject to intense demands from all corners about how to behave and what to do regarding Iran or the Palestinians.

He washed away some of the personal tension that existed between him and Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, which in turn builds the necessary capital for coordinating with him on Iran and pressing him on the peace process.

Obama gave Israelis the impression that he does care about them, he is looking out for their security, and he does understand them. His speeches at the Jerusalem Convention Center and at Yad Vashem both invoked the Jewish past and connection to the Land of Israel, the insecurity that drives much Israeli behavior, and the rightness of their Zionism. To this end he also visited all the right sites in Israel, tying together the Jewish-Israeli experience over centuries.

In a country with such fractured political and ideological opinions, Obama could never make everybody happy. But there was enough there for most: for leftists he laid heavy emphasis on the immorality and injustice of the occupation. For the right he repeatedly committed himself to Israel’s security, implicitly noting that it’s not just about the balance of material forces but also about perceptions and history. (Of course, his comments regarding the former undermined some of the goodwill his comments for the latter might have generated.)

We cannot judge the success of the trip by looking at the Palestinian reaction simply because the trip wasn’t about them. There was a small detour—and that’s what it was—to visit President Mahmoud Abbas and then Bethlehem, and this gave the impression of American support for the Palestinian Authority. But Obama wasn’t out to reassure the Palestinians. Fair or not, Washington thinks that it’s Israel that needs to be warmed up for negotiations; the Palestinians will probably come along (perhaps with some necessary arm-twisting) because they aren’t in a position to do anything but. And they can’t be bought off with a few speeches and visits to sites of identity because the occupation will still be there once Obama leaves.

But in his Jerusalem speech Obama did humanize the Palestinians in a way they rarely have been in Israeli political discourse. This might not seem like much from Hebron, but it can make a difference among the Israeli public, which will be needed to pressure Bibi into making any progress in peace talks.

Unexpectedly, Obama also brokered a reconciliation between Bibi and Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdoğan. Not only did they speak by phone, but Bibi apologized to Erdoğan for the deaths of Turkish citizens killed during the Mavi Marmara affair. The repairing of that relationship is good for everybody, but it also enhances Obama’s position as facilitator of regional diplomacy. This is necessary as the American position in the Middle East changes in the wake of the Arab Awakening, and as things with Iran come to a head.

So yes, this was a successful visit in the short term. In the longer term it’s obviously too early to say: regional events can take an unanticipated turn with unforeseen consequences. The politics of the new Israeli government have yet to play out, and it’s not clear what that will mean for Israeli foreign policy. But for now, Obama can deservedly bask in the glow of his trip to Israel—at least until his return to the drama of Washington politics snaps him out of it.

Bibi’s apology to Turkey

Barack Obama really is a magician. Just as he was about to leave Israel, he announced that Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdoğan had spoken by telephone. Even more, Bibi apologized to Erdoğan for the deaths of Turkish citizens during the Mavi Marmara affair.

I did not see this coming, and I’d be surprised if anyone else did, either. The trip that everybody (including me) thought was about domestic American politics, Iran, resetting the relationship with Bibi, giving comfort to Israelis, and demonstrating support for the Palestinian Authority government in the West Bank was also, it turns out, about Obama’s broader regional diplomacy.

Here are my initial thoughts about the phone call and its aftermath:

1. Turkey gained much without compromising anything. Erdoğan got the biggest thing he had been demanding since the attacks, which was an Israeli apology. His other demands—compensation and an end to the siege of Gaza—are either easily met (compensation) or non-starters (ending the siege), so this was the most important. Starting to repair relations with Israel also removes major irritants that affected Turkey’s relations with the United States, some European countries, and NATO, disrupting processes and regional security plans. Turkey easily came out on top here.

In return, Erdoğan said Ankara would drop charges against Israeli military for their role in the killings. But this was a very minor concession: it would never have resulted in actual prosecution or sentencing. If Turkey had pursued it, it might have constrained the ability of some officers to travel around the world, but even then it would be more irksome than anything else.

2. It’s hard to avoid noticing that the apology was only realized with Avigdor Lieberman gone from the Foreign Ministry. Blustering and belligerent, Lieberman was never the right choice for the position. If Bibi’s apology can warm his relationship with Obama, reset the relationship with Turkey, and lead to the inclusion rather than exclusion of Israel in global and regional forums, conferences, and exercises, then it’s hard to argue bringing Lieberman back is a good thing. In fact, the obvious conclusion is the opposite one: Israel can accomplish much with Foreign Minister who’s pragmatic and has a broader sense of Israel’s position in the world.

3. I’d like to know how Obama persuaded Bibi to call. Did Obama promise extra aid to Israel? Was this a quid pro quo, and if so, for what?

4. It remains to be seen what happens next between Israel and Turkey, of course. I don’t think we’ll see a return to the mid-1990s levels of cooperation and warmth. But this is a good start as both countries seek to find their place in a changing Middle East.

Defining the Arab State

Issandr el-Amrani has a very angry response to Aaron David Miller’s piece on the post-Arab Spring decline of the Arab state. Though el-Amrani raises a couple of important points, the piece seems as full of misperceptions that he accuses Miller of.

El-Amrani’s underlying point—that the Arab states are not simply “tribes with flags”—is a strong one, and I think Miller undermines his own argument by falling back on that assertion. But contrary to what el-Amrani seems to indicate, Miller wasn’t arguing that the state has collapsed everywhere in the Arab world, much less so in the Middle East (where he notes Israel, Turkey, and Iran have remained coherent and strong). El-Amrani uses the examples of the UAE, Libya, Saudi Arabia, and Egypt to prove his point. But apart from the fact that Miller explicitly put Saudi Arabia in the category of states “holding their own,” these examples underline Miller’s point that it’s about “basic coherence and governance.”

It’s not about feeling good about the Arab Spring, as el-Amrani dismisses Miller’s piece, but about questions of legitimacy and governance. That’s a legitimate concern to note, as different groups compete with each other, either violently or non-violently, to define the state and its basis for legitimacy, laws, and norms.

Indeed, Karl reMarks notes this in his own response to Miller, and which el-Amrani cites approvingly. He acknowledges that “the collapse of the state, in varying degrees in each of the three states [Egypt, Iraq, Syria], is an undisputable phenomenon.” reMarks’ critique is centered on the reasons for the failing nature of these states, and that’s certainly something to engage and debate.

Also contrary to what el-Amrani seems to assume, Miller wasn’t providing a normative take on the aftermath of the Arab Spring, but more like a logistical take. Will these Arab states remain functioning as central authorities, with institutions capable of asserting that authority across all of society?

I share el-Amrani’s yawn with the language Miller uses in his piece, which is—as with his other ones—filled with clichés. I suspect this is because Miller simply writes too much, and for a non-specialist audience. It seems the easiest thing to do. But that’s a different motivation than the implicit orientalism that el-Amrani hints at.

Finally, el-Amrani inserts his own cliché as much as he criticizes Miller for doing so. Referencing Miller’s take on the Hamas-Fatah split and the sectarian divisions in Iraq, el-Amrani faults Miller for ignoring the Israeli occupation and the American invasion. Obviously both are relevant, and I seriously doubt Miller isn’t aware of these as constraining factors. (In fact, he references colonial interference as a contributing factor.) But neither was relevant to his particular point, which is that Palestine and Iraq are simply unable to get their internal houses in order so as to provide good governance to their people. Explaining why certainly requires an account of the Israeli and American presence, but that wasn’t the point of Miller’s piece.  Moreover, Miller puts Palestine and Iraq in the category of “pre-Arab Spring” countries with governance problems.

The underlying problem seems to be that Miller and el-Amrani are approaching the issue from two different angles. Miller doesn’t claim that states don’t exist in the Arab world, or even that they will collapse entirely tomorrow. He admits that borders are well entrenched, and that efforts to redraw them have been few in number, and failed completely. Rather, Miller defines the state as “effective” and “possessing the capacity to protect the wellbeing of all of its citizens.” Surely, with the violence being visited upon the citizens by the governments and other citizens, this is an obvious and legitimate argument to make.

El-Amrani seems to assume that Miller is making the opposite argument. He contends that Miller confuses “the dysfunctions of Arab states with the absence of a state.” But that line of thinking doesn’t appear in Miller’s argument. Nowhere does he say there is the absence of a state; at best, only Lebanon is listed as a “non-state,” but Miller doesn’t connect this to the Arab Spring but its own long-standing internal divisions and problems.

Perhaps El-Amrani disagrees with Miller’s proposals for stabilizing the Arab states, which include strengthening national institutions and broadening their legitimacy. After all, if the Arab state is already doing fine, then it requires something else to fix the problems currently roiling them.

Miller’s assumptions of the weak foundation of the Arab states—something that’s been a perennial concern throughout the literature on the Arab state—should be engaged on their merits. Otherwise, serious policy solutions can’t be debated.

Mr. Abbas Goes to Ankara

Fatah leader and President of the Palestinian Authority Mahmoud Abbas is in one of the toughest positions I’ve ever seen for a leader of a somewhat-recognized-but-not-really state. He’s physically hemmed in on all sides by Israel; his rival for control over Palestinian politics (Hamas) is growing stronger than him all the time; and he seems genuinely uncertain, or scared, about his options.

And yet with one visit to Turkey he made two moves that deserve not only commendation for their boldness, but also an immediate and positive response by Israel.

Israel has long demanded that Abbas separate himself from Hamas, in order to be recognized as a true moderate. During his visit to Turkey, Abbas did just that: he publicly disagreed with a very popular Hamas over the right of Israel to exist, which in turn underlines his support for two states.

And the location of the comments could not be more symbolic. Abbas took on his rival in the presence of the Turks, who have been growing closer to Hamas at the expense of ties with the PA, and who have been at fierce odds with Israel over its policies toward the Palestinians. It was a mild rebuke to Ankara at the same time.

The claim, then, that there is no Palestinian partner for peace is at best an incomplete one.

Unfortunately, in his characteristic way, Abbas undermined his own effort at the very same time. During the same visit that he chided Hamas, he also hinted—at a press conference with Turkish President Abdullah Gül—that if Israel continued with its settlement project, particularly in the explosive E1 area, he might go to the International Criminal Court.

On the one hand, you can understand Abbas’s frustration. Since the Oslo Accords, Israel has continued expanding settlements throughout the West Bank and around East Jerusalem—a unilateral action if ever there was one. Yet after Abbas asked the United Nations General Assembly to recognize Palestine as a non-member state, the government of Benjamin Netanyahu accused Abbas of unilateral action and, flying into a rage, immediately began building more settlements.

At the UN, Abbas gave what can only be described as a vicious speech accusing Israel of every possible wrong and absolving Palestinians of their own responsibilities and agency. And one might argue that Abbas’s effort to form a unity government with Hamas is a sign of his secret tendencies toward extremism.

But on the other hand, one can see that Abbas has little choice but to take such a tough rhetorical stance. Israel has all but ignored him, preferring to lend credibility to Hamas and its violent ways instead of the PA’s diplomacy. And Israeli leaders themselves engage in harsh comments about and display a lack of sensitivity toward Palestinians. In a conflict increasingly incorporating collective memory, identity, and claims to victimhood, perhaps this is to be expected.

In the same hateful UN speech, Abbas explicitly recognized the 1967 Green Line as the border of the Palestinian state. Israel and Palestine can disagree over the exact route of the border, but that’s what negotiations are for. The focus on the Green Line is the very essence of the two state solution that Israel, including Netanyahu, has accepted.

And Abbas might contend that his calls for unity with Hamas are no different from the center-right Likud allying with far-right parties in an Israeli coalition. (I’m not convinced it’s the same, but the argument is there to be made.)

Abbas is trying, in his way. Given his circumstances, and despite his fumbling, this deserves Israel reciprocation, not condemnation. He’s clumsy, and he’s certainly made mistakes. But if leaders never negotiated with others who’d made blunders, we’d never get international agreements.

Israel in Gaza: Politics or Bad Decision-Making?

My first organized thoughts on the Israel-Hamas conflict was were posted at Open Zion yesterday. Here’s the main conclusion:

It’s hard to argue politics wasn’t somewhere in the back of the minds of the elected leaders when they decided to go ahead with the military campaign. But such an assault is a very risky move: while so far, the Israel Defense Forces has successfully minimized civilian casualties, there was no guarantee this would or will be the case. There is even less guarantee that Israel will be able to avoid a ground invasion in response to whatever Hamas does—which would in turn raise real questions about the ultimate military objective and exit strategy, and the associated costs of not having these.

Click here to read the full post.

Time Loops and Israeli Decision-Making on Hamas

Palestinian militant groups are again firing tens of rockets across the Gaza border toward Israeli civilian targets. Israeli Defense Minister Ehud Barak immediately warned that Hamas is responsible for the violence coming out of Gaza, and that the Israel Defense Forces might react by invading—again.

Others have already discussed the potential implications of the decision to use more military force against Gaza (here and here). In this extra-long piece, I want to consider the bigger picture of Israeli policymaking, and recommend that, notwithstanding the sensitive nature of the issue, it’s long past time for Israel to develop a new policy toward Gaza and Hamas.

Instead of conceptualizing Hamas as a tactical problem with short-term solutions—coerce it into accepting a short period of Israeli deterrence—Israel should think in strategic terms, with a policy accounting for how to engage Hamas long term. To do this, it needs to stop relying on its historical patterns of thinking.

Otherwise, it will be doomed to repeat the scenario again in the near future.

This is along the lines of what Giora Eiland, Israel’s former National Security Advisor, has been arguing for some time. Eiland contends that Israel should treat Gaza as an enemy state, and hold its rulers—Hamas—responsible for the attacks that come from it.

This makes sense, but it’s not clear that this will shift Israel’s view of Hamas from a short term military problem to be solved by military means—air strikes, incursions, and siege. The deeper problem is that Israel continues to use decision-making frameworks that have served it well in its past, but don’t reflect its needs in this moment.

The historical trend has been to rely on short-term, tactical maneuvering in response to real-time and urgent threats. There was good reason for this. The Jewish communities in Europe, under constant threat of persecution and isolation, had to improvise on a daily basis to remain safe. The Zionists in the Yishuv (Jewish community in Mandatory Palestine) followed this blueprint: struggling under difficult environmental and security conditions, with an unsteady supply of funds from outside the country and no protection from the governing authorities, it had to quickly develop self-sufficient methods of agriculture, politics, and security while adapting to changing local, regional, and global circumstances.

The 1947-49 War and the first decades of its existence furthered this pattern. Having to cope with more security threats—this time from the Arab states as well as Palestinian irregular militias—Israel also had to absorb hundreds of thousands of new immigrants and build the political, social, and economic infrastructure of the new state. This, without an assured and large enough stream of revenue, arms, and diplomatic support.

All of this forced Israel to react on the tactical level, making do with what it had. The ingenuity, informality, and heavier responsibility devolved to local leaders and commanders worked well enough under these conditions. Israel survived all of the threats against it, and thrived. But the cost was an ability to think strategically, and to re-conceptualize threats as challenges—which in turn require non-military solutions in addition to military ones. As Alan Dowty put it, the “filter of security” had come to dominate the Israeli worldview.

Such a framework is less effective in an established state that is the most prosperous and strongest power in its region.

Today, Israel has a flourishing domestic arms industry, a reliable flow of revenue from the diasporic Jewish community and the United States, a tight relationship with the latter (the world’s preeminent power), and an economy strong enough to survive better than others the recent economic crisis. It’s far more integrated into international forums than at any time since 1948, and it’s a veritable font of academic, scientific, and financial entrepreneurship and innovation.

At the same time, the nature of regional and global threats are changing—meaning Israel’s old framework for responding to them are increasingly less applicable. Where in the past, Israel successfully undermined its enemies’ ability to threaten it, today the Iranian nuclear program is more likely to remain in place than not, even if delayed. Where in the past Israel could count on the hostility of the Arab regimes but, by the 1970s, also their interest in avoiding direct conflict, today the Arab Awakening has changed the politics, and therefore the foreign policies, of some of these Arab states.

This is especially the case with Hamas. Indeed, Hamas has only grown stronger over the years, despite Israel’s efforts to degrade and contain it. It is at least partially responsible for Israel’s disengagement from Gaza in 2005; it won the 2006 Palestinian legislative election; it seized by force control of all Gaza in 2007; and it’s increasingly being recognized as a legitimate player by Egypt, Turkey, some Gulf states, Europe, and even the United States, either explicitly or implicitly. Unlike Israel, Hamas has adapted well to the vicissitudes of the Arab Awakening, all the while expanding its rocket arsenal.

For its part, Hamas retains tight control over Gaza. It is now rooted in what Eiland called the Gazan state, and while Gazans themselves appear to resent its repression they give no indication of the will or ability to overthrow it. Nor is Fatah, Israel’s preferred Palestinian interlocutor, in any condition to overtake it in Palestinian politics.

At the same time, Hamas is under intermittent pressure to “prove” itself to Palestinians and others that it cannot be ignored. It is in constant competition with smaller paramilitary/terrorist groups, but it cannot shut them down completely. Yet it cannot allow them to set the “resistance” agenda. At some point, given these external threats and internal challenges from other domestic groups, Hamas will determine it needs to reassert its position as leader of the “resistance” against Israel, as we would expect from authoritarian regimes suffering from a lack of popular legitimacy.

Unable to close off its financial and diplomatic pipelines, Israel cannot destroy Hamas short of a full-scale invasion and sustained occupation. Given the sheer uncertainty of such a campaign, this is an unlikely outcome. Yet anything less will continue to impose severe threats on the Israeli population and considerable costs on the country in financial, military, and political terms.

It’s time for Israel to get ahead of the curve. Continually trying to restore the status quo ante is not a viable policy, and it cannot be effective long term.

Israel needs to rethink its approach to foreign policy, beginning by recognizing that while it is connected, it is not the same as security policy. The National Security Council (more accurately, the National Security Staff), Eiland’s former agency, should be given more legitimacy among decision-makers, and its discussions taken more seriously. The Winograd Commission that studied the 2006 Lebanon War recommended just such a change.

More concretely, Israel should encourage other states to engage with Hamas, to act as a conduit for discussion. Though it comes across as hypocritical when Turkey hits Israel for its reactions to Hamas yet sees nothing wrong with its own policies toward the PKK, Turkey has in the past proven a responsible mediator between Israel and Arab actors.

Israel should also engage others, like the US, the EU, Russia, and the Arab states to treat with Hamas more directly and openly. Trying to prevent them from doing so has clearly failed. But having multiple voices telling Hamas moderation is the only plausible avenue out of its siege will help the message sink in.

Jerusalem should also encourage Fatah and Hamas to resume their negotiations, by not treating them differently. The settlement enterprise might seem like a fait accompli to many, but the West Bank is a time bomb, which won’t spare anyone. Giving Hamas a stake in the entire Palestinian system and tying it to Fatah could well force it to work more responsibly.

At the same time, it should give the Palestinian Authority in the West Bank some sense that things are moving forward. Currently, both Fatah and Hamas have been rejected by Israel, despite adopting very different policies. But both need to see that negotiation, forswearing of violence, and cooperation are the only way to achieve positive outcomes.

Finally, Israel should respond immediately with limited aerial force to any barrage of rockets, with a set of pre-arranged contingency plans. Hamas needs to understand that its own security is more threatened by Israel than by fellow militant groups.

This will, in turn, require a more direct public conversation in Israel, rather than the blustering that substitutes for it in Israeli politics. Honesty about Israel’s real options regarding Hamas and the long-term efforts is important for the Israeli public, too.

However unpleasant it might be to recognize, every indication is that Hamas is here to stay. It will take a long time to convince it to change its behavior. The sooner Israel recognizes this, the sooner it can craft more effective policies toward it.

A Likud-Yisrael Beiteinu Joint Ticket

So it appears that while I was away from my computer, Likud and Yisrael Beiteinu (YB) decided to run on a single list for the upcoming elections in Israel. Thus I can only give a quick reaction now.

This isn’t really a surprise, and provides considerable benefits for the two parties, but at the same time has several implications for Israeli parties and politics.

Israeli political parties merge and split all the time. Likud itself is an amalgam of several parties. Yisrael Beiteinu ran as part of the ticket of National Union in 2003, and there have been rumors in the past about a merger with Likud.

On the surface a unified faction makes lots of sense. It helps protect both Benjamin Netanyahu and Avigdor Lieberman from internal party rivals. It allows for a concentration of resources and voters, particularly as the left and the center are emerging as serious challenges in the campaign.

On the other hand, a super-right party would draw voters from some of the smaller right secular parties. These aren’t likely to be happy about this, and may fight to keep their share of the vote. It’s also not clear all Likud members are happy about this. There was already substantial discontent among some with Netanyahu; a joint ticket will be seen as a way of silencing them, and they may intensify their anti-Bibi activities, and work to undermine the union.

Nor will YB members be all that happy. The Russian and secular constituencies that voted for it will see their issues diluted within a larger party. Netanyahu was careful to give YB more or less equality with Likud on the ticket (which I take as a sign of his perception of his weak position), but Likud is still bigger and stronger and will dominate the agenda more than YB will.

The haredi parties will not be happy, whatever they say in public. YB, and Lieberman particularly, is considered to be staunchly secular. For example, it harped on the haredi draft as major policy issue for a long time, and seemed less inclined to compromise than Bibi was. This opens the door a little more for the religious parties, especially Shas, to consider a government with the left and center-left, should the latter obtain enough seats in the Knesset to form a plausible core to the coalition.

I understand Lieberman may have been offered his choice of ministry should the ticket form the coalition. This would be disastrous for Israel. As a Foreign Minister, Lieberman has been one of the least productive and biggest liabilities Israel has even had in that position (with a possible except of David Levy). If Lieberman chooses the Defense Ministry, he’ll be in an even more powerful position to shape Israeli security and foreign policy (assuming they are not the same thing, which isn’t a safe assumption) along his confused, incoherent, and belligerent preferences. In such an event, expect a downward spiral in relations with the US, the Palestinians, Turkey, and Egypt.

Finally, don’t expect the ticket to last. Israeli politicians are known for their large egos, and Lieberman and Netanyahu are no different: neither will want to play second fiddle to the other for long, particularly as Lieberman will now see himself as being in a stronger position. There are also real policy disagreements between the two parties, including differences over the role of religion in politics and society. They share some, but not all, of the same type of voters. And other parties, among the left, the right, and the religious will prefer Likud over YB; they’ll see YB as an obstacle to overcome more than anything else. This will push Likud, including Bibi, to leave the ticket as soon as is feasible or the pressure gets too great.

More Analytical Claptrap on Turkey

Daniel Pipes now has a piece out in National Review Online, titled “Erdoğan and Assad at War.” His article joins the long list of arguments (see Michael Koplow’s posts about some of them here and here, and follow Dov Friedman as he tweets his takedowns) that misunderstand the nature and contours of the Turkish-Syrian relationship, the role of the US and NATO in it, and the likely future of their relations, particularly as it pertains to a presumed war.

It seems easiest to go through the article’s main points one by one.

Pipes begins by asking “Why is the Turkish government acting so aggressively against the Assad regime in Syria?” It’s hard to understand how this is a viable question; if anything, the question should be reversed. At the beginning of the protests and then violence in Syria, Turkish leaders, particularly Erdoğan and Foreign Minister Ahmet Davutoğlu, continually warned the Syrian regime to stop its violent clamp down on the demonstrations, threatening repercussions. Assad didn’t, and there weren’t any.

Moreover, Ankara did nothing while PKK-affiliated groups continued to operate in Syria, while Turkish planes were shot down from within Syria, and while Syrian refugees were driven across the border into Turkey. It wasn’t until the beginning of October, when Syrian military shelling landed directly on Turkish villages and civilians, that Turkey began to respond with military force. That response consisted of targeted return fire: no air campaign, no invasion (despite troops being moved to the border), and no widespread or heavy bombardment. It was, in short, a very limited response that cannot qualify as “aggressive.”

Pipes continues with a series of theories to explain why Erdoğan fired back into Syria. These are all plausible, in that Ankara would much prefer the Syrian civil war brings to power a government more favorable to its interests. But no evidence is provided for any of these ideas.

Next, Pipes claims Erdoğan’s actions “fit into a context going back a half-century.” This, too, is problematic because the AKP government that Erdoğan leads doesn’t have a precedent in the past fifty years of Turkish history. It also ignores the government’s effort (captured succinctly in the “zero problems” framework) to warm up relations with Syria (and Iraq and Iran) in the 2000s after years of tensions and disputes, even at the expense of strong and beneficial ties with Israel. It wasn’t until the Syrian regime began to brutally attack its own citizens that relations deteriorated.

The pre-AKP secular leaders who led Turkey also engaged in a variety of policies, from neutrality, to alternating between daring and caution, to a more hand-off approach to the Middle East, to a more direct engagement with the region. This half-century, then, is comprised of different parties, leaders, and foreign policies that, while they all share a general disposition toward the avoidance of direct conflict, don’t represent a trend that explains why a state would respond with force to the shelling of its civilians.

In what seems to at first be a side argument but really underpins the entire article, Pipes then claims that Erdoğan has a “presumed goal of…bringing sharia to Turkey.” This is a sensitive accusation, and there is genuine debate about his and the AKP’s ultimate objectives. But to state that it is “presumed” without evidence or supporting arguments undermines the claim. It’s also not clear how it matters for the Syrian-Turkish cross-border violence.

Pipes makes the same style of accusation that the AKP is engaged in a “neo-Ottoman course,” which is weak for the same reasons as the sharia claim. This seems to tie into his effort to cast the Turkish-Syria violence in sectarian terms, when Pipes specifically writes that the “Sunni Erdoğan” denounced the “Alawi Assad.”  It is as though an AKP pursuit of Ottomanism (that is, the capture of the entire Middle East) is explained by the fact that Turkey and Syria are now enemies (conveniently ignoring their earlier friendship).

Pipes concludes by arguing that “A decade of success went to Erdoğan’s head, tempting him into a Syrian misadventure,” and that he “is doubling down on his jihad against the Assad regime, driving hard for its collapse and his salvation.”

As I’ve written before, I agree that Erdoğan decision-making is sometimes hampered by his affective and emotional attachments. But given how long Erdoğan waited to respond to Syrian provocations, and given that Syrian shells killed Turkish citizens, and given that Pipes supports the argument that when Hamas rockets rain down on Israeli civilians it is appropriate and necessary for the state to respond with force to protect its citizens, I don’t see how Erdoğan succumbed to any kind of temptation.

In strategic terms, the Syrian violence is a critical issue that could impact on regional politics and affect American interests in the Middle East. To this point, then, we need careful analysis, not polemical claims unattached to evidence.