25 years after Durban: The questions Israel must face

A recent visit to a Palestinian village near Nablus and to shepherding communities in the Jordan Valley brought to my mind the UN World Conference against Racism (WCAR), in Durban 25 years ago (August 31–September 8, 2001), which I attended as Israel’s ambassador to South Africa.

Among the accusations leveled against us were “apartheid” and “ethnic cleansing.” It is worth asking if the counter-arguments we made then still hold.

But first, what happened in Durban that has left that picturesque port city’s name evoking painful memories among Israeli officials and Jewish organizations around the world?

It was the UN’s third conference on racism, and the first since the organization revoked its 1975 resolution equating Zionism with racism. For the first time, Israel decided to attend.

We were stunned by the hostility and hatred we encountered in the three arenas that together came to be known as “Durban”: the official conference of governments, the parallel gathering of nongovernmental organizations (NGOs), and the unofficial part, such as demonstrations or distribution of materials like The Protocols of the Elders of Zion. In an outstanding display of hypocrisy, governments and organizations that promote human rights joined forces with those who hang homosexuals or do not permit women to drive, all against a common adversary – us.

I must stress that not every criticism of Israel is antisemitic. But in this case, less than a year after Durban, South Africa’s deputy foreign minister, a Muslim and a close ally of the erstwhile president, chose a meeting of the South African Zionist Federation to acknowledge that aspects of the conference had indeed descended into antisemitism.

For the record, the most extreme accusations did not appear in the document adopted by the conference. After Israel and the United States walked out mid-way into the conference and it was extended by a day, the final text contained formulations with which Israel had lived comfortably for decades, including the Palestinians’ right to self-determination and the right of all states in the region, including Israel, to security. The harsh language, however, remained in the NGO document, and over the past quarter-century it has assumed an increasingly prominent place in the discourse criticizing Israel.

South Africa was chosen to host the conference after White minority rule ended in 1994, amid changes in the international order and growing external pressure. Democratic elections brought apartheid to an end, and Nelson Mandela became president.

In comparing Israel with that regime, many participants in all three arenas at Durban failed to distinguish between what was happening inside the Green Line and outside it. Israeli representatives and their Jewish supporters took pains to emphasize that Israeli law grants Arab citizens equal rights. We explained that Israel’s actions in the territories were the result of an ongoing conflict and of security needs, and that Israel did not intend to rule indefinitely over a large indigenous population.

How would we answer those accusations today, when senior Israeli officials increasingly speak of Arab citizens as though they were a homogeneous group, all suspect? How can we explain that most political parties rule out Arab parties joining a future governing coalition?

What could we say today about the territories, when the government rejects the possibility of a political solution and invests substantial resources in erasing the Green Line, with the apparent aim of creating a single state between the Jordan River and the Mediterranean Sea?

How would we answer those who state that if millions of Palestinians are granted equal political rights, the Jewish character of the state will change? If they are not granted rights, Israel will find it increasingly difficult to explain that this does not constitute permanent rule by one group over another.

There is another issue that received less attention in reports on Durban: ethnic cleansing. The term entered international discourse about a decade earlier, during the wars in the former Yugoslavia, when more than 100,000 people were killed in fighting among rival groups.

According to the UN definition, ethnic cleansing is a “purposeful policy designed by one ethnic or religious group to remove by violent and terror-inspiring means the civilian population of another ethnic or religious group from certain geographic areas.”

To ask whether what is now happening in the West Bank meets these criteria, one need only read reports of harassment and attacks against local residents, in what appears to be an unapologetic effort to clear the land for another group. There is no need to meet victims to ask whether such acts constitute “violence and terror.”

As we mark a quarter-century since Durban, we can justly continue to complain about the world’s ignorance regarding Israel, point to the hypocrisy directed at us, speak of growing antisemitism, list those who seek our destruction, and emphasize our need to defend ourselves.

But none of this absolves us of the need to understand how the world – however problematic its attitude toward Israel and Jews may be – sees us and our actions, and what consequences we can expect from our growing isolation.

Nor does it absolve us from the obligation to look inward, to ask ourselves what we want, what we are doing, and above all – who we are.