part between 1952 and 1967, Jews were marginalized; their legal status
became de facto inferior, and they were denied Libyan citizenship. In
contrast to Morocco where, during the decolonization phases, modest
efforts were made to win Jewish support for nation-building, it became
clear that Libya followed the policies of neighboring Egypt under the
presidency of Gamal Abdel Nasser: a policy of national homogeneity
whereby non-Muslims were dismissed as mere “undesirables.” The June
1967 War revived violence perpetrated against the Jews and prompted
them to leave for Israel and Italy. With the overthrow of the Sanussi mon-
archy and the rise to power of Mu῾ammar al-Qadhafi in 1969, the orien-
tation toward national homogeneity gained additional legitimacy that
culminated in the final dissolution of the remaining Jewish community.
Until recently, the Jews of Uzbekistan and Tajikistan and their evolu-
tion from Soviet control to nationhood received scant attention. The Jews’
predicament in this part of Central Asia and their relations with the Mus-
lims are somewhat analogous to the challenges Jews encountered in Arab
lands and different in other ways. Alanna E. Cooper’s closing chapter
of this section, “Where Have All the Jews Gone? Mass Migration from
Independent Uzbekistan,” is a unique historical-cultural anthropologi-
cal undertaking. It is based on written sources and fieldwork in Uzbeki-
stan and it includes some comparative analysis with Jews of Arab lands.
The emphasis here is on Bukharan Jews, a community whose population
dwindled due to immigration from 35,000 in 1989 to 1,000 in 2009. Most
of the immigrants settled in Israel and the United States. Although Mus-
lims and Jews alike confronted many hardships once the Russians pulled
Introduction · 11
out and Uzbekistan became an independent nation-state in 1991, the Jews
struggled with greater difficulties.
Like Jews of Arab lands in the 1950s and 1960s, the Bukharan coun-
terparts felt marginalized because they were, in Cooper’s words, “out-
side of the nationalist project” and felt they were “on the weaker side of
tense Muslim-Jewish relations.” Like the Jews of most Arab lands, who
feared that the end of European domination would signify a return to
Arab domination and the loss of everything gained under colonialism,
Jewish immigration from independent Uzbekistan carried similar con-
cerns. Many worried that they would suffer the humiliations prior to the
arrival of the Russians sixty-five years earlier. The majority believed that
their lives were improved under Soviet influence. As with Arabization
of language and culture in the Maghrebi states during decolonization,
which stirred anxiety among Jews who adapted to Western languages,
Bukharan Jews spoke Russian and Tajik. They found it increasingly chal-
lenging to adopt Uzbekistan’s new language policies promoting Uzbek
at the expense of Russian and Tajik. Consequently, they faced obstacles
in gaining admittance to local universities and finding employment.
Bukharan Jews in the new Uzbekistan were nationally and ethnically
non-Uzbeks and thus regarded as out of place. Political, linguistic, and
economic factors notwithstanding, despite certain apprehensions, the
Israeli-Palestinian conflict hardly figured into the relationship.
The section “In the Shadow of the Arab-Israeli Conflict: History, Ideol-
ogy, and Political Strategy” encompasses historiography, sociology, mod-
ern literature, contemporary history, and political science. Rachel Maissy-
Noy’s study, “Issues of Jewish History as Reflected in Modern Egyptian
Historiography,” is the first of its kind based almost exclusively on Ara-
bic source material. Interwoven into Maissy-Noy’s analysis are compo-
nents of ancient, medieval, and modern Jewish history seen through the
lenses of Egyptian historians. These historians turned their attention to
Jewish historiography only following the June 1967 War and their writ-
ings displayed strong and significant political overtones concerning the
Arab-Israeli conflict and the struggle for Palestine. They developed a
narrative about Jews and Zionism, attacking their ancient and modern
written sources. The dominant Zionist idea that Palestine was eternally
Jewish because Jews descended from a God-chosen ancient nation is de-
scribed as a concoction and a fabrication. The overwhelming majority
of Egyptian historians also downplayed the prolonged forced exile and
12 · Michael M. Laskier and Yaacov Lev
persecutions in the dispersion as reflected in Jewish and Zionist sources.
They regarded these as an excuse to legitimize the Jews’ return to the
“land of their forefathers” and as a ploy to seize Palestine in its entirety
from the Arab Muslims.
Maissy-Noy’s approach relying on Arabic sources is reciprocated
by Hanita Brand’s literary Arabic perspective in “The Road Not Taken:
Isḥāq Mūsā al-Ḥusseini and His Chickens.” This is an intriguing account
of a novel written by Isḥāq Mūsā al-Ḥusseini, a Palestinian intellectual
and a relative of the former mufti of Jerusalem, Hajj Amin al-Ḥusseini.
Published in 1943, Isḥaq Mūsā’s Memoirs of a Hen is the story of a hen
and her chicken coop. The hen relates how one day a family of outcast
chickens invaded her domain and caused friction. All efforts by the hen
to settle the tensions proved difficult. In interpreting the motives behind
the story, Brand, who also interviewed Isḥāq Mūsā in October 1979, raises
two questions: Was the novel specifically devoted to the Zionist-Pales-
tinian conflict that gained notoriety at the time? Or did it go beyond this
“narrow” issue in the quest to promote a world devoid of hatred and
universal peace at the height of World War II? Brand concludes that the
plot resembles the conflict in Palestine.
Perceptions about the legitimate rights of Arabs and Jews in Arabic
sources are also found in Hebrew literary works. An innovative study
prepared by Carmela Saranga and Rachel Sharaby, “Space as a Demon
and the Demon in the Space: Jewish-Muslim Relations in the Israeli Space
in A. B. Yehoshua’s Literary Works,” attests to it. Saranga and Sharaby
dissect the oeuvres of A. B. Yehoshua, one of Israel’s most renowned nov-
elists, and expose his worldview about modern-day coexistence. More-
over, they interpret his descriptions concerning the destinies of the two
peoples in the Israeli space through different geographical settings. For
instance, Haifa, Yehoshua’s current home, symbolizes for him an island
of sanity and accommodative multiculturalism. On the other hand, Jeru-
salem, his place of birth, is the lost paradise, a divided city geographi-
cally, socially, and culturally. There, the prevalence of “unhealthy” senti-
ments of mutual resentment is translated into tensions that threaten to
ignite dangerous confrontations.
The challenges of accommodative cultural interaction are clearly evi-
dent in Ben Mollov’s “Interreligious Dialogue and the Israeli-Palestinian
Conflict: An Empirical View.” A political scientist at Bar-Ilan University,
Introduction · 13
Mollov maintains that a religiously based intercultural dialogue is imper-
ative to effect perception moderation. It is the best outlet to alter narrow-
minded Israeli and Palestinian perceptions by emphasizing the common-
alities of Judaism and Islam. Mollov’s argumentation is invigorated by
empirical findings, for he and his colleagues have been actively involved
in meetings with religious Palestinian Muslims.
The debate about the Arab-Israeli conflict and its resolution is by no
means monopolized by the Palestinians and Israel’s neighboring states.
Over the years it extended to Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, Libya, Iran, and
Turkey. Despite geographical remoteness, political leaders of Arab Libya
often exceed the role of mere spectators, as is abundantly evident from
Yehudit Ronen’s study on Libya, “Zionism and Judeo-Islamic Relations
in the Middle East: Libya’s Ideological and Political Position.”
Ronen focuses entirely on the post-1969 revolutionary period of the
inter-Arab arena and Israel. No organized Jewish communities remain
in Libya at this time. In many ways, Judeo-Muslim relations may be de-
fined here as “Jewish Israel and the Muslim world.” Attention is shifted
to the revolutionary regime’s attitudes toward world Jewry and Israel.
If until the 1990s Mu῾ammar al-Qadhafi attacked “world Zionism” and
denied Israel’s right to exist, this perception has evolved to some degree
since then. In 1993 Qadhafi encouraged Libyan Jews who left their home-
land in the 1950s and 1960s to return and promised to indemnify them
for properties expropriated in the past. Although nothing emerged from
these declarations, a less radical attitude toward Jews, Israel, and Zion-
ism became evident in the post–cold war era. The weakened position
of the Russian ally, the determination to end Libya’s international isola-
tion, the desire to mend fences with the United States, and the influence
of Saif al-Islam, Qadhafi’s dynamic and well-educated son, all explain
this new strategy, which in any case lacks clarity. Saif al-Islam became
the spokesperson of the Libyan regime’s “new face.” He raised issues of
Judeo-Muslim coexistence and their historic meanings, identified with
Jewish sufferings over the Holocaust, and treated the Arab-Israeli con-
flict less emotionally. Nevertheless, as long as contradictory statements
emanate from Libya, insisting on the transformation of Israel into a bi-na-
tional state for Palestinians and Jews, rather than backing the idea of the
two-state solution, the feasibility for change is remote. As Libyan politics
manifested great unpredictability in the past four decades, and in light of
14 · Michael M. Laskier and Yaacov Lev
the upheavals in the country that were ignited in winter 2011, one cannot
say with utmost confidence whether a post-Qadhafi era will inaugurate
the desired changes or make matters worse.
One final point is germane to our analysis in modern and contempo-
rary times. Previous essays here accent the special historical bonds be-
tween Jews and Muslims in Turkey—once the seat of the Islamic caliph-
ate—and its Ottoman possessions and the struggle against their common
enemies. The Jewish-Muslim interaction and interdependence continued
in secular Turkey, expanding since the late 1940s to special ties between
its government and the state of Israel. During the cold war and its im-
mediate aftermath, both joined ranks to stave off common challenges in
the Middle East, including Soviet Russian, Syrian, and Iraqi bellicosity.
They fortified military and intelligence links while open diplomatic re-
lations between the two countries endured for decades. Nevertheless,
after 2000, the picture began to change as Ankara began to level harsh
and unfounded accusations at Israel over a variety of political and mili-
tary issues. The weakening of Turkish secular institutions, including the
military establishment, and Turkey’s growing identification with Islamist
Iran, the Hamas-led Palestinian government, and Syria may damage or
scuttle the Ankara-Jerusalem nexus in the coming years. Moreover, it has
an adverse effect on the 25,000 Jews living in Turkey. Are the develop-
ments merely attributed to Israeli-Palestinian-Syria hostilities? Are they
symptomatic of a growing process of Turkish Islamist radicalism? Is this
unfavorable trend irreversible? We have no answers.
In our companion volume, The Convergence of Judaism and Islam, Nor-
man A. Stillman made the following astute observation: “The lack of a
resolution to the conflict between Israel and the Palestinians, the height-
ened tensions between Jews and the Muslim populations in several
Western European countries, . . . and the sorry state of Muslim-Jewish
relations worldwide . . . would all seem to indicate that, for better or for
worse, Muslims and Jews still share a destiny that is intricately inter-
twined.” Our genuine hope—mixed with caution and concern—is that
better times will loom large on the horizon.
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