Geostrategic Media Political Commentary, Analysis, Security, Defense
Eng. Saleem Al Batayneh
As I reflect on the ever-evolving relationship between the Arab world and Israel, I cannot help but feel a deep sense of unease. The currents of change have swept through the region, altering not just the geography, but the very fabric of Arab political thought and behavior. What were once unthinkable acts – recognition of Israel, abandonment of the boycott – are now commonplace, and I fear we are witnessing a dangerous betrayal of our history and principles.
I readily admit that I once dared to hope for true, lasting peace between our peoples, not just our rulers. Yet the slogans of the past, such as Ahmed Al-Shugairi’s call to “throw the Jews into the sea,” continue to haunt us, a testament to the heavy price we have paid for our missteps. The scales have tipped, the cards have been reshuffled, and what we see now is not mere recognition, but a confession of guilt for our past boycotts.
Many fail to grasp the true implications of this normalization with Israel. It is not just about diplomatic relations or security interests; it is a deep-seated review of the very concepts that define our Arab and Islamic identities. By consecrating the idea of the “death of history,” we are undermining the religious and historical foundations that have guided us for generations.
The picture, as I see it, is inverted. Israel, in its relentless pursuit of the “fait accompli,” has never succeeded in infiltrating the hearts and minds of the Arab people. It remains a state that seeks to impose its will, with open borders and a refusal to define its limits. Golda Meir’s words, spoken over half a century ago, still ring true: “When we reach the borders, we will tell you!”
What Israel desires is a peace tailored to its own size and mood – a peace based on the notion of superiority, dominance, and subordination. Its very project is built upon the fragmentation of the Arab structure, a state of affairs that we now witness with an alarming sense of desperation.
As we rush headlong towards Israel, our official discourse adopts a sympathetic tone, as if the Israelis are the constants and we are the emergent ones. What is truly disturbing and dangerous is the belief held by many Arab regimes that their very survival hinges on the goodwill of Israel.
This humiliation, this violation of our lands, this inability to raise our heads – it is a daily burden that we carry. Israel continues its massacre in Gaza, and the Arab position, bereft of a moral compass, remains unchanged, even if Al-Aqsa Mosque were to be demolished. We are left with little more than statements of condemnation, protest marches, and the burning of Israeli flags.
The megalomania and arrogance of Israeli leaders have reached a point where some have even suggested striking Gaza with a nuclear bomb. I cannot help but contrast this with the restraint shown by the United States, which did not consider a nuclear strike on Afghanistan in response to the Taliban’s harboring of Al-Qaeda.
The silence and inaction that we witness today are reminiscent of the state of the Arabs before the fall of Baghdad, the capital of the Caliphate, and the extermination of its people at the hands of the Mongols. We stand naked before the mirror of history, with only the dignity embodied in the caricatures of Naji al-Ali’s Hanthala to cling to.
The Syrian writer and poet Muhammad al-Maghout, along with the actor Duraid Lahham, once captured the essence of our condition with a simple phrase: “But we lack a little dignity.” This sentiment, uttered decades ago, still resonates today.
And so, I say with unwavering conviction: We do not want peace with Israel, and we will not learn or speak Hebrew, even if there are successive reconciliations and handshakes, whether announced or secret. The chromosomes of dignity are not for sale, nor can they be cast aside. They are born with us, and they diminish and disappear in those who seek to humiliate and despise us.
Al Batayneh was a member of the Jordanian Parliament.
