The Nazi case for Hamas

Rashid Khalidi, the Edward Said Professor at Columbia University, is no fool. He started out as a spokesperson for the PLO in Beirut in the 1970s, and he’s been at it ever since. A New Yorker by birth, he knows something about perceptions of the conflict in America. And he knows that terrorism has set back the Palestinian cause time and again. That’s why he’s spent much of his career trying to anesthetize America to terrorism, divert attention from it, or minimize it. The horrific massacre of Israeli men, women, and children committed by Hamas on October 7 has made his mission much harder. “The current sentiment,” he told an Arab interviewer (in Arabic),
politically, popularly, and in the media, is overwhelmingly negative. This contrasts sharply with the past decade, which saw growing support for Palestinian political rights and strong opposition to Israeli policies…. They’re capitalizing on the deaths of Israeli civilians during the Al-Aqsa Storm operation…. Having lived in the U.S., particularly New York, for over half my life, I’ve never seen such an onslaught of lies and crude propaganda that are actually making an impact.
Khalidi recommends a number of talking points to his followers. He’s dropped some in reaction to new and awful evidence, but one remains constant. Here is how Khalidi has made it, on two separate occasions:
There are ways of making war, which advanced technological societies employ, which involve the killing of huge numbers of civilians, who are never somehow counted in the calculus. Oh, that’s collateral damage. Oh, we didn’t mean to do it. If a pilot does it from 1,000 feet, and kills fifty people, or some somebody with a gun comes in and murders fifty people, there is a difference, obviously, but in the last analysis, if this is a violation of the rules of war on the one hand, it’s a violation of the rules of war on the other hand… One kind of killing of civilians—only that kind—is called terrorism and another kind of systematic killing of civilians, with much higher death counts, is simply ignored.
And here, another formulation of the same talking point:
Israeli lives should be considered civilian lives, should be considered important, obviously. Any civilian death should be mourned. But all people are supposedly equal…. The 900 or 1,000 Israeli civilians who died starting on the seventh of October, are now matched by a mountain of two or three times—it will soon be four times—as many Palestinians, again, like the Israelis, innocent civilians…. The rest of the world… do[es] not see the difference between Hamas or other militants coming out of Gaza killing civilians, and Israeli pilots, or Israeli gunners, or Israeli gunboats killing civilians. Killing civilians is killing civilians, especially in these numbers…. The world sees that, even as the American and European… media, which seem to move in lockstep with their governments, may distort this.
This talking point has become standard in many attempts to “contextualize” October 7. Queen Rania of Jordan made it in abbreviated form in a television interview seen by millions: “Are we being told that it is wrong to kill a family, an entire family at gunpoint but it’s OK to shell them to death? I mean, there is a glaring double standard here. And it is just shocking to the Arab world.” Embed from Getty Images

The ‘Dresden defense’

I am a historian (like Khalidi), interested in the origins of ideas and arguments. It turns out that Khalidi’s premier talking point has a very specific genesis. It figured in the case for the defense in the Einsatzgruppen Trial, conducted by the Nuremberg Military Tribunal from late 1947 to the spring of 1948. The Einsatzgruppen were the paramilitary death squads of Nazi Germany, which carried out mass murder by shooting in Nazi-occupied Europe. They destroyed well over a million Jews, and two million people all told. After the war, their surviving senior commanders were put on trial at Nuremberg, charged with crimes against humanity and war crimes. The chief defendant, SS-Gruppenführer Otto Ohlendorf, had been commander of Einsatzgruppe D, which carried out mass murders in Moldova, southern Ukraine, and the Caucasus. An economist and father of five, he had supervised the killing of 90,000 Jews. Ohlendorf imagined that he had a moral conscience. The killers under his command, he told a U.S. Army prosecutor, were prohibited from using infants for target practice, or smashing their heads against trees. Embed from Getty Images During trial testimony, the prosecutor pressed Ohlendorf: “You were going out to shoot down defenseless people. Now, didn’t the question of the morality of that enter your mind?” Ohlendorf referred to the Allied bombings of Germany as a context:
I am not in a position to isolate this occurrence from the occurrences of 1943, 1944, and 1945 where with my own hands I took children and women out of the burning asphalt myself, and with my own hands I took big blocks of stone from the stomachs of pregnant women; and with my own eyes I saw 60,000 people die within 24 hours.
A judge immediately pointed out that his own killing spree preceded those bombings. But this would become known as the “Dresden defense,” to which Ohlendorf resorted still another time, in this exchange:
Ohlendorf: I have seen very many children killed in this war through air attacks, for the security of other nations, and orders were carried out to bomb, no matter whether many children were killed or not. Q: Now, I think we are getting somewhere, Mr. Ohlendorf. You saw German children killed by Allied bombers and that is what you are referring to? Ohlendorf: Yes, I have seen it. Q: Do you attempt to draw a moral comparison between the bomber who drops bombs hoping that it will not kill children and yourself who shot children deliberately? Is that a fair moral comparison ? Ohlendorf: I cannot imagine that those planes which systematically covered a city that was a fortified city, square meter for square meter, with incendiaries and explosive bombs and again with phosphorus bombs, and this done from block to block, and then as I have seen it in Dresden likewise the squares where the civilian population had fled to—that these men could possibly hope not to kill any civilian population, and no children.
Ohlendorf thought this defense so powerful that he invoked it yet another time:
The fact that individual men killed civilians face to face is looked upon as terrible and is pictured as specially gruesome because the order was clearly given to kill these people; but I cannot morally evaluate a deed any better, a deed which makes it possible, by pushing a button, to kill a much larger number of civilians, men, women, and children.
(The chief prosecutor, an American, called this particular iteration “exactly what a fanatical pseudo-intellectual SS-man might well believe.”) At Nuremberg, this sort of tu quoque defense (“I shouldn’t be punished because they did it too”) wasn’t admissible. Still, in the verdict of the Einsatzgruppen Trial, the judges chose to refute it. “It was submitted,” the judges wrote, “that the defendants must be exonerated from the charge of killing civilian populations since every Allied nation brought about the death of noncombatants through the instrumentality of bombing.” The judges would have none of it:
A city is bombed for tactical purposes… it inevitably happens that nonmilitary persons are killed. This is an incident, a grave incident to be sure, but an unavoidable corollary of battle action. The civilians are not individualized. The bomb falls, it is aimed at the railroad yards, houses along the tracks are hit and many of their occupants killed. But that is entirely different, both in fact and in law, from an armed force marching up to these same railroad tracks, entering those houses abutting thereon, dragging out the men, women and children and shooting them.
The tribunal sentenced Ohlendorf to death. He was hanged in June 1951.

“In the last analysis”

Nuremberg enforced a fundamental distinction. All civilian lives are equal, but not so all ways of taking them. The deliberate and purposeful killing of civilians is a crime; not so the taking of civilian lives that is undesired, unintended, but unavoidable. The errors made by a bomber squadron cannot be deducted from the murders committed by a death squad. It’s a difference compounded many times over when those civilian men, women, and children are subjected to torture, rape, and mutilation before their murder. To borrow Khalidi’s phrase, “in the last analysis,” this distinction is what separates modern civilization from its predecessors. More disturbing is the thought that it separates the contemporary West from its peers. Otto Ohlendorf and the regime he served did all they could to conceal their deeds from Western eyes. Nazi Germany still operated in a West founded on Enlightenment values. So massive a violation of a shared patrimony needed to be hidden from view. In contrast, Hamas initially sought to publicize its deeds, assuming they would win applause, admiration, or at least tacit acceptance in the Arab and Muslim worlds. Here they succeeded beyond their expectations. The many millions who don’t share the West’s patrimony, and who know next to nothing about the Holocaust or Nuremberg, do see things as Khalidi says they see them. (So, too, does a sliver of alienated opinion in the West, where such views are cultivated and celebrated.) Finally, and still more disturbing, is the fact that Ohlendorf’s defense has been revived to frame the massacre of Jews. Let’s be clear: this isn’t a world war. October 7 isn’t the Holocaust continued: in three months of 1942 alone, on average, the Nazis killed more than ten times the amount of Jews killed on October 7, every single day (Operation Reinhard). And Gaza is not Dresden, Hamburg, Pforzheim, Kassel, or any of the other German cities bombed so intensively that they literally burst into flames. The Israel-Hamas war is a skirmish by comparison. But the Ohlendorf and Hamas defenses are the same, and so is the identity of their victims. That’s why it’s important that Israel take some of the Hamas masterminds alive, and place them on trial, Nuremberg-style. Israel owes it to the dead and wounded, their families, all Israelis, and all Jews. But it’s the Arabs and Muslims who most need to see the evidence, hear the testimonies, and weigh the arguments. No part of the world is further from drawing the line drawn at Nuremberg. October 7 is the place to start.

Israel from 25 to 75

Israel is celebrating its 75th birthday. Many have noted the cloud over this anniversary. The Associated Press ran its story on Israel’s Independence Day under this headline: “A deeply divided Israel limps toward its 75th birthday.” The New York Times led with this headline: “Political chaos unsettles Israel as it looks to honor the fallen and its independence.” 

To put this in perspective, I’d like to recall another anniversary that I witnessed, and that took place under a cloudless sky.

Fifty years ago, in 1973, I’d been living in Israel with my parents and brothers for nearly two years. In May, Israel was set to celebrate its “silver” 25th anniversary. Israel’s self-confidence at that moment couldn’t have been higher. Its smashing victory of June 1967 was still fresh in the collective memory. Israel sat astride the Middle East like a colossus, from the Suez Canal in the south, to the outskirts of Damascus in the north. The country was booming: in every year since 1969, per capita income had grown by 20 percent. 

The leaders of the day, who included Prime Minister Golda Meir and Defense Minister Moshe Dayan, decided that the best way to mark Israel’s 25th anniversary would be a giant military parade in Jerusalem. 

My father, who was a resourceful man, managed to get us tickets to the main reviewing stand. So I sat with my family on that glorious day, watching the full might of Israel unfold before 300,000 spectators. 

Thousands of soldiers marched by, from every branch of the military. Tanks and armored personnel carriers rumbled before us, spewing smoke as their tracks rattled over the asphalt. (Some of those tanks were Soviet, captured in 1967 from Arab armies.) Fighter jets and attack helicopters roared overhead in perfect formation. In the main reviewing stand were not just the leaders of Israel, but the surviving founders of this tiny superpower—most notably, David Ben-Gurion, the Old Man himself, then 86. 

It’s a day I’ll never forget: a day of unsurpassed pride in the power of Israel.

Highlights of the 1973 military parade in Jerusalem.

And also, as we would learn, a day of unsurpassed hubris. No one in that crowd imagined that five months later, Israel would be plunged into a desperate struggle for survival. On the next Yom Kippur day, October 6, the armies of Egypt and Syria launched a combined surprise attack on Israel. Israel’s flexing of its muscles hadn’t deterred them at all. 

Israel survived that war, but the country was shaken to its foundations. Israelis had been arrogant in thinking themselves invincible. Their leaders had been wrong to dismiss the resolve and the capabilities of the Arabs. And Israel had paid a terrible price: almost 2,700 dead and more than 7,200 injured, thousands of them permanently incapacitated and maimed. They included many who had paraded in Jerusalem only months earlier.

The war also brought down a political elite that had run the country since independence, including both Golda Meir and Dayan. It marked the beginning of the end for the Labor Party. And there would never be a military parade on Independence Day again. 

Why do I tell this story now? Israel has the most to fear not from doubt, but from hubris. An Israel that questions itself has a better chance than an Israel that puffs with pride. An Israel that looks strong on the outside can conceal weakness within. But an Israel that fearlessly probes its weaknesses can emerge stronger. 

So I’m actually reassured by the apprehensive and pensive mood on this 75th anniversary. Israel has so much to celebrate. We owe it to our children and grandchildren to explain the inexplicable: how a tormented people rose from the slag heap of history, and rebuilt itself as an independent state and a prosperous nation, against all the odds. Along the way, it welcomed millions of refugees, defeated and made peace with enemies, and became a military and economic powerhouse. 

But Israelis must also remain vigilant. That not only means standing up to enemies, but questioning the judgment of their own elected politicians. The leaders I saw in the reviewing stand on that day in 1973 had been in power for a long time, and thought they shouldn’t be doubted. The leaders of today’s Israel have been in power a long time, and think the same. The duty of citizens doesn’t end with elections. Perpetual vigilance is crucial, because as we discovered fifty years ago, even the most seasoned statesmen and politicians can make tragic mistakes.

Happy birthday, Israel!

If you never watched it, this is a great time to view my seven-part lecture series on Israel’s Declaration of Independence, at this link.

Header image: From the 1973 parade, Central Zionist Archives, PHKH/128915.

What “judicial reform” is really about

You shouldn’t feel guilty if you’ve found the crisis in Israel confusing. How many votes should the Knesset need to override the Supreme Court? Who should sit on the appointments panel for judges? Some American Jews have dived into these debates, weighing in for this side or that. What self-respecting Jewish lawyer could resist kibbitzing on these questions? It’s been a field day for Alan Dershowitz, and all the people who want to be the next Alan Dershowitz.

You needn’t bother with these details, because it’s simpler than that. In eleven minutes, I explain the real reasons for the crisis, and point to a text that can help resolve it. This is an excerpt from a webinar jointly sponsored by the Association for the Study of the Middle East and Africa (ASMEA) and Scholars for Peace in the Middle East (SPME). At this link or below.

Header photograph by Ze’ev Barkan, licensed under CC BY 2.0