Amy Dockser Marcus. Jerusalem 1913: The Origins of the Arab-Israeli Conflict. Viking, 2007.
Jerusalem 1913 looked like an interesting book to read in the light of continued conflict in the Holy Land over a hundred years later. Marcus served as a journalist in Israel for a number of years and describes the research she conducted in some detail. The story mostly focuses on two figures and reminds us that in 1913 things were quite different in Jerusalem.
In 1913 Palestine was still a part of the Ottoman Empire. A lot of the politics had to do with what the Turks would permit. If Turks were maybe a bit suspicious of Jews, they were no less suspicious of Arab nationalism. The last census done in Jerusalem in 1896 noted there were about twenty thousand Jews, and about eight thousand each of Muslims and Christians. Christians included both Arabs and Armenians.
The sad thing was that that the three groups had lived together for centuries with a certain amount of mutual respect and friendship. Yes, Jews were beginning to buy land and move there. The founder of Zionism, Theodore Herzl, had died in 1898, but Zionism was becoming a movement. I was reminded a little of T. E. Lawrence’s memoir Seven Pillars of Wisdom. He noted that rural Arabs even back then were moving to the cities such as Damascus and Jerusalem. Demographic changes were already happening.
Also the Young Turk revolution had taken over in 1908. But five years later it was still hard for Arabs and Jews in Palestine to judge how the new Ottoman government would treat them. Would they sympathize with national movements of the empire’s ethnic groups, or would they still be emphasizing Turkish nationalism at the expense of others?
We meet the two principal figures from this time: Ruhi Khalidi, a member of a leading Arab political family (some might say “dynasty”) and Albert Antebi, a non-Zionist Jewish leader. Both men understood well the politics of the Ottoman Empire. We get the feeling throughout the book that one problem was simply that the Turks were losing grip of their empire even well before they joined the Central Powers in World War I.
Antebi’s grandfather had moved from Damascus to Jerusalem after he was imprisoned for one of the oldest accusations by anti-Semites, the blood libel. Even though he was released after over a year in jail, he realized that a Jew could never truly be trusted except in a place that tolerated Jews. This was in the 1850s, long before Zionism.
Albert never embraced Zionism, but he understood its causes. Because he and some of his associates were Ottoman citizens, they could legally purchase land in Palestine and then rent it out to Jews who had recently arrived. Indeed, one of the ongoing political conflicts was whether or not to allow Jews to buy land there. Sometimes they could; sometimes they were prohibited, but there were always ways to make a purchase.
Antebi would note after a violent confrontation in a rural village between Arab villagers and Jews who had recently moved there:
[I]f the Muslim role in the violence was not formally established and publicly acknowledged, then “tomorrow the story of the wolf will be applied to us,” he wrote, “our complaints will not be believed, and public rumor, well-formed by our adversaries, will accuse the Jews of systematic persecution of the farmers.” (111)
Plus ça change…
Khalidi was also something of a moderate. He tried to understand Zionism and would write essays and books on the subject. There was warning in his tone but also hope that the two groups could continue to co-exist peacefully. After all, Arabs were migrating to Palestine as well. (Later, Yasser Arafat himself would relocate from Egypt where he was born.)
We also meet Arthur Ruppin who lived well past 1913 and whose observations would be key primary sources. His Arab contemporary would be Kahlil Sakkini who kept diaries and whose observations from his perspective were prescient.
Jerusalem 1913 contains many other names as well. While it focuses on 1913, it takes us basically from the 1890s to the present (or to 2006, when the book was written). 1913, of course, was the last year with a relatively stable Turkish government. Starting in 1914, Ottoman citizens were drafted for the war, and neither Jew nor Arab were especially happy about that.
One interesting detail which I recall from my youth as a stamp collector—a number of European countries had post offices in the Turkish realms. The Turkish postal system was minimal at best. Once the war began, all those offices from Britain, Germany, Italy, and France closed.
The year 1913 was chosen because it was the first year that there was violence between Arabs and Jewish settlers. There were really just a few incidents, but both sides began to believe that the other side could not be trusted. In 1913 it was simpler: “the Muslims were convinced the Jews could never win, while the Jews believed the Arabs would someday yield” (50).
Even later under the British mandate, David Ben-Gurion tells an interesting tale. One of his best friends was an Arab leader named Yeya Effendi. Ben-Gurion had just been exiled by the British. Effendi said, “As your friend, I am sad…But as an Arab, I rejoice” (153).
Jerusalem 1913 is a fascinating account. Even at the time of the writing the author gave examples of toleration and respect that some Jews had for some Arabs and vice versa, especially as they attempted to understand each other’s history. The book does mention in passing the first proposal to divide the country among the two groups, but the differences were said to be “irreconcilable.” That has not changed even until today. No compromise at all has been possible.
One could argue that the conflict started much farther back in time, but certainly the modern conflict seemed to originate around 1913. It is a good place to start to understand why we are where we are today.