God's Promise and "The Land"

October 27th: Lech Lecha
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich 

In Genesis 12, Abram (and Sarai!) get the call, as God sends them on a significant and multi-generational journey. There are many promises:
“I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you.
I will make your name great, and you shall be a blessing.
I will bless those who bless you, and curse those who curse you,
And all the families of the earth shall be blessed by you.”
(Genesis 12.2-3),
Though the promise is that we (Abram and Sarai and their descendants) will be blessings, there is an awful lot of resistance when we try to bring these blessings to the world.  

Take for instance God’s promise of the Land of Canaan, the Promised Land:
“Raise your eyes and look out from where you are, to the north and south, to the east and west,
for I give all the land that you see to you and your offspring forever.”
(Genesis 13.14)
As we well know, this gift has put us on a collision course with our Arab cousins. But, why? Why does this little sliver of land—around the size of New Jersey—inspire so much consternation in the Arab and Muslim world?  

If one considers the land mass of Arab countries (Jordan, Lebanon, Syria, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, Oman, Qatar, the Gulf Emirates, Yemen, Egypt, Libya, Tunisia, Algeria, and Morocco), the Promised Land of Israel/Palestine is less than 1%. When one considers the non-Arab Muslim countries—like Turkey, Albania, Pakistan, Iran, Afghanistan, and Indonesia (and several more in Africa), the size of Israel is even more miniscule. With all the other problems of the world—and of all these Arab and Muslim countries, why are so many so singly focused on Israel? 

Could it be that all these Arabs and Muslims are concerned for the welfare of the Palestinian people? I do not think so. The idea of solidarity and peoplehood—as expressed for Jews in the Talmudic principle, “Kol Yisrael arevim zeh bazeh / all Jews are responsible for one another” (Shevuot 39a)—does not seem to be an operating imperative for most Arabs or Muslims. There are many Arab and Muslim charities, but this concern for all other “members of the tribe” is not manifested as universally as it is in the Jewish community. For example, since 1948, the Palestinian refugees have not been welcome into other countries—with the support for them being overwhelmingly military as opposed to humanitarian. When Arab Iraq was fighting Persian Iran, the other Arab countries did not come running to help. When Muslim Bosnia was being savaged by Eastern Orthodox Serbia and Roman Catholic Croatia, the rest of the Muslim world was not concerned. Right now, when Rohingya Muslims in Myanmar (Burma) and Uyghur Muslims in China are both facing genocide, the rest of the Muslim world is not particularly exercised. This is not an insult; it is simply a sociological observation. The kind of group solidarity so pronounced among Jews does not seem to be part of Arab or Muslim thinking. The question thus remains, why are the Palestinians such a cause in so much of the Arab and Muslim world? 

Could the issue be that Israel possesses Jerusalem and al-Haram al-Sharif / The Noble Sanctuary (the Muslim term for the Temple Mount)? This is the third holiest site in Islam—the place from where, according to legend, Mohammed ascended to heaven—and the place where, according to legend, Abraham almost sacrificed Isaac. It is understandable that Muslims would be concerned with non-Muslim controlling Muslim holy places, but the Israelis have always been very respectful of other religions’ holy places and appoint Muslims to administer the sites. Though there is some rhetoric objecting to Jewish “ownership,” this seems too small to justify all the attention, anger, and money thrown at continual attempts to destroy the Jewish state. There must be other reasons.  

Could we be looking at an “Arab Manifest Destiny,” a Middle-Eastern version of that 19th Century American idea that God destined White Americans to own the yet-to-be-conquered West—and that any Natives living there were just impediments to be removed? These days, Manifest Destiny is generally an embarrassment—a racist, imperialist, and manipulative concept, but it held enormous power in the 1800s, spurring economic, military, religious, and literary activity that innervated the American spirit. Could it be that, in the sensibility of many Arabs, the entire Middle East is considered Arab land, and any non-Arabs—be they Crusaders, Ottomans, Britons, or Jews—are unwelcome encroachers regardless of how small their stake may be?  

The implications of this possibility can be helpful in understanding Arab attitudes. This could be why many Arab leaders are so reticent to discuss the so-called “Two State Solution”—and thus accept Jewish ownership of some of Palestine. When the occasional Arab leader does consider the idea, the Arab response is either (1) a Two State Solution is just a temporary stage before the complete removal of Jews from Palestine, or (2) any Arab who makes peace with Israel is a traitor and deserves death. (QED: Anwar Sadat.) This could also explain why, when Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Olmert offered the Palestinians 94% of the disputed lands (in 2008), the offer was rejected out of hand. And it can explain the remarkable lack of concern for Palestinian civilians. As has been observed many times, Hamas (and Hezbollah and Islamic Jihad and El Aqsa Martyrs Brigade and Fatah) strategy has always been much more interested in hurting Israelis than in protecting Palestinians. The focus is on Palestine the land—and not the people, leaving the actual Palestinians as pawns and human shields in a greater struggle with the “invader” Jews.  

Interestingly enough, it is a similar “Manifest Destiny” kind of argument that accounts for Evangelical Christian support for Israel. Whenever the subject comes up, Evangelicals are quick to quote God’s Lech Lecha promise to Abram, “I will bless those who bless you, and curse those who curse you.” They are determined to be included in God’s blessings.  

 

To me, the guiding principle for all humans—Jewish, Christian, or Muslim—is the one repeated over and over in the Torah and Prophets: God’s gift of the Promised Land is provisional and dependent on how we behave. When the Children of God behave with righteousness, compassion, and charity, then we deserve The Land. When we do not behave ourselves, then God’s punishment is exile. Whether Jewish, Arab, Muslim, or Christian, let us remember that God owns The Land, and we, like Abraham and Sarah, are sojourners on God’s property.