The absurdity of politics in our age can perhaps be contemplated nowhere better in the heart and mind than in the case of Palestine/Israel. We’ve heard the steps of the Oslo shuffle on the horizon for some time, and now its tired and monotonous beat is once again being hammered out in the mouths of our beloved talking heads and assorted government functionaries on the television screens, in the journals of record and in the enlightened think tanks.

There has been a long history of repression by the U.S. government, college administrations and faculty against the Palestinian struggle and Arab organizers. In the 1960s the Palestinian issue arrived on the radar of the state when it became a source of solidarity for internationally-minded people in the United States and around the world. The General Union of Palestinian Students has long been a target of FBI intimidation. Islamic activists and secular nationalists alike have been subject to state harassment, arrest and deportation for decades on college campuses and in the community. They were a threat to U.S. empire precisely because they attempted to educate American people about the realities of colonialism and racism abroad. What’s more, their activity showed the possibilities of an effective people-to-people foreign policy inevitably in opposition to the aims and interests of the ruling class.

More than two years ago the Israeli government officially announced it would build a massive wall that would wind south through the West Bank in defense of the Jewish state against the Palestinian “threat.” This Apartheid Wall, as it has come to be known, represents a new level of control and repression of the indigenous population. While the intensity of the exploitation has increased, the idea behind it is consistent with Zionist efforts to consolidate its control of land and put increasing pressure on Palestinian society, its people and its institutions. The Apartheid Wall is a logical development of Zionist ideology implemented against the Palestinian population since the declaration of the Israeli state.

The passing of Yasser Arafat last November marked the end of an era in the Palestinian movement. With this event the American and Israeli regimes revamped their ideological offensive—pulling out a tried and tested method—declaring the “chances for peace” once again within grasp. Having allowed himself to be made a “statesman” by Oslo, Arafat, in the years preceding his death, was recreated into a dictator and a terrorist. Israel and the U.S. insisted—against all evidence—that Arafat was the instigator of the second Intifada exactly to cover up the rebellion’s democratic challenge to the tyranny of their own regimes and of the Palestinian Authority. At the same time hundreds of thousands attended the return of Arafat’s body to Ramallah. As tens of thousands crowded the landing helicopters it was evident from the signs of genuine anguish and defiance that Arafat’s passing represented a collective historical and tragic experience of a movement for freedom. Clearly behind every great historical personality is an epic movement of millions.

Irshad Manji, author of The Trouble with Islam, has taken official society by storm with her attacks on the culture and politics of the Muslim and Arab world. As a South Asian lesbian who grew up alienated attending a Muslim school in Canada, she represents a multicultural voice in solidarity with the great liberal values of the secular state. Her message and identity are marketed as the latest, best selling popular criticism of “Islamic fundamentalism.”

Tikkun is a Hebrew word that means to heal and repair. Tikkun, a journal of Jewish culture and politics but also a political organization and aspiring community, seeks to mend and extend the progressive tradition in the Jewish American community. The leader of this movement is Rabbi Michael Lerner, a liberal social democrat whose roots go back to the 1960s, the influence of Students for a Democratic Society (SDS), and the popularity of mystical humanist ideas sometimes termed nowadays New Age. The latter have their counterpart in traditions of Jewish religious and philosophical thought as distinguished by Martin Buber and Abraham Joshua Heschel.

The specter of the people armed in self-defense has always haunted aspiring managers of society. The lurking violence of the “mob” elicits self-righteous panic or patronizing condemnation from its otherwise charitable benefactors. Meanwhile, the state mowing down hundreds or even thousands of people merits a strongly worded petition or a Saturday afternoon at the local protest rally. And folks say we live in a democratic age. The ebb and flow of debate about violence and Palestine among solidarity activists in the U.S. reflects a wider context concerning the state, race, class and democracy, and goes beyond the difficulties of organizing in the shadow of suicide bombings.