Wednesday, 19 December 2007

Book रेविएव सज रेविएव ऑफ़ Naim Ateek, Justice and only Justice: A Palestinian Theology of Liberation (Maryknoll, ओर्बिस Books, 1989) क/ओ David Neuhaus

Book Review
Naim Ateek, Justice and only Justice: A Palestinian Theology of Liberation (Maryknoll, Orbis Books, 1989); Arabic translation: The Struggle for Justice: Palestinian Liberation (no place, Dar al-Kalima, 2002).
Thirteen years after its publication in English, this pioneering work has been translated and published in Arabic. This is indeed an important event and one can only wonder why it has taken such a long time to make this work available to the Arab reader. The book is a bold attempt to disengage what “God is saying to us today and … what God wants to do through us in this world that God loves” (14)[1]. The author defines his reflections as a theology of liberation, which is “a way of speaking prophetically and contextually to a particular situation, especially where oppression, suffering and injustice have long reigned. God has something very relevant and very important to say to both the oppressed and the oppressors in the Middle East” (14). These reflections are as relevant today as they were thirteen years ago when the book was first published.
There are only a few changes in the content of the Arabic edition when compared to the original English. Firstly, the Arabic edition does not reprint the Foreword of the English edition, written by the renowned American Catholic feminist theologian, Rosemary Radford Reuther. This is a pity as the Foreword, despite being addressed to the English-speaking Western reader, situates Ateek’s work in the larger theological context[2]. Reuther echoes some of Ateek’s basic concerns: “The critical issue for every liberation theology, every liberation movement, is not simply to throw off oppression and empower the formerly victimized, but how to do so in a way that does not simply make the former slaves into new slave masters. How do we end violence to one people in a way that does not create new violence to another people? How do we cease to let our guilt toward one people be used to stop our ears to the cries of another people? How can we end the cycle of violence?” (xiii, English edition).
The Arabic edition has three additions: the author’s Preface to the Arabic translation and two documents published by the Sabeel Center, a theological center founded by the author in the early 1990s, whose task is to reflect theologically from within the Palestinian context. The Preface is particularly useful as the unique commentary on the difference between the Ateek of 1989, when the book was first published, and the Ateek of 2002. It is unfortunate that this Preface is so short as it would be interesting to know how the author has developed his thought in the intervening thirteen years.
The fact that there have been no additions or changes to the text of the original English edition is rather surprising at first. The English edition was written at the beginning of the first intifada, 13 years ago. In the meantime, events have continued to shape the context in which Palestinian theology is being done. The author admits this (7). However, the basic situation described and the issues raised are as relevant today as they were then. As the author states in his Preface: “the essence of the solution remains what it was” (7).
An outline of the book
After a brief introduction, the author begins, in Chapter 1, with what Fr. Rafiq Khoury calls “narrative theology” – a story of an individual that reveals both the context and the agenda of theological reflection. The best known author of this kind of theological reflection is Fr. Elias Chacour[3]. In the case of Ateek, his story is similar to that of myriad Palestinians, Muslims and Christians. Pre-1948 life was tranquil but 1948 marked a radical turn as catastrophe enveloped the town of Bisan and the Ateek family became refugees in Nazareth. The author does not spend much time on his story, giving only the basic narrative structure of an Israeli Christian Palestinian Arab story. He then immediately proceeds to the question of identity, underlining the four strands that make up his identity today: Christian, Palestinian, Arab and Israeli.
Chapters 2 and 3 give the general background to the Palestinian context. Chapter 2 explains the political and historical background to the struggle whereas Chapter 3 explains the reality of being a Christian Palestinian in Israel today. Ateek tries to summarize the birth of Zionism in a few pages and then turns to the clash between the Zionist immigrants to Palestine and the native population. The events are retold from the Palestine Arab perspective, particularly that of the small minority of Arabs who remained within the State of Israel. The political-historical survey ends with a description of the first intifada that began in December 1987. After having described the political and historical situation of the Arabs in Israel in general, Ateek proceeds to analyze the particular reality of the Christians. In a few pages he describes their fragmentation into various denominations and the fate of the Christian communities after 1948. Up to this point, most of what Ateek tells us can be found in other better documented and deeper sources. However, at the end of Chapter 3, he begins to describe the particular conscientization of some Church leaders in the 1960s. This story is all too little known. It is here that Ateek bears witness to the role of Archbishop Yusuf Raya, the much-loved and prophetic Greek Catholic Archbishop in Galilee, who had been a collaborator of Martin Luther King in the non-violent struggle against racism in the USA (67-68). The full story of Raya’s work and influence on a whole generation of Christian Palestinian Arabs in Israel is yet to be told.
However, this is only an introduction to what is to be the main thrust of the rest of the book, the attempt to develop an indigenous Christian theological understanding concerning what is going on in the Holy Land. The need for this is underlined by the fact that Protestant fundamentalist Churches have offered their understanding of events within the framework of a theology that is Christian Zionist. Although Ateek challenges head-on the suppositions of Christian Zionist writers, he does not define what Christian Zionist thinking is. Such a definition would be helpful when we confront this reality. Ateek also documents the emergence of a Christian thinking that questions Zionist suppositions and has awoken to the existence of the Palestinian people. Even more striking is the fact that a new Jewish “theology of liberation” has likewise begun to challenge Zionist thought. Here, Ateek consecrates a few pages to describing the thought of his Jewish American colleague, theologian Marc Ellis (78-79).
At the end of chapter 3, Ateek launches the rest of his book that will be theologically focused. Here he formulates the challenge. “The duty of the Church in Israel-Palestine today is to take its own concrete and local context seriously. (…) I believe that the Church in Israel-Palestine has a unique role to play: to probe in depth the meaning of justice as it can be understood both biblically and theologically. To pursue peace with justice is the Church’s highest calling in Israel-Palestine today, as well as its greatest challenge” (80-81).
Chapters 4 and 5 are the theological kernel of the book. Chapter 4 follows the liberation theology perspective on the Bible, focusing on the liberation dynamic within the biblical texts. Two issues are intertwined here, the concern for justice and the question of how to read the Bible. The Bible promotes justice but, according to the author: “strangely – shockingly – however, the Bible has been used by some Western Christians and Jews in a way that has supported injustice rather than justice” (86)[4]. The political abuse of the Old Testament by Zionism has distanced some Christian Palestinians from the Old Testament. Only theological reflection can bridge the abyss between the Old Testament and the experience of the Palestinians. The theological question that is clearly formulated is: “Do the words (in the Bible) reflect an authentic and valid message from God to us today?” (89). Ateek proposes Jesus Christ as the hermeneutic key to the entire Bible: “Does (the Biblical text) match the character of the God I have come to know through Christ?” (92). In his practical application of this hermeneutic to a reading of Old Testament texts, Ateek compares certain militant Jewish Zionist readings with the Christian reading he proposes, a reading that focuses on a God of justice who hears the cry of the oppressed.
Ateek then examines the tension between universalism and particularism in the Biblical tradition In Ateek’s interesting distinction among three streams of Old Testament interpretation, nationalist, Torah-oriented and prophetic currents, he distinguishes among Jewish readings. This approach is to be welcomed as it is far from the simplistic rejection of the entire Jewish tradition. Of course, the Christian understanding develops from the prophetic current. It is out of this understanding that Palestinian liberation theology emerges, affirming “the inclusive character and nature of God” (108). However, Ateek is not satisfied to simply distinguish between possible Jewish and Christian readings of the Old Testament, he would also like Jews to recognize his adherence to the Old Testament. He would like them to see that Zionism is “a step backward in the development of Judaism” (110), which had rejected the nationalist current after the failure of the Zealots in the first century.
Ateek’s discussion of the problem of the land is a central element in his theological reflection. Here too his thinking is unequivocal. The land is the Lord’s! The land is given to stewards who are obliged to obey the law of the Lord or be thrust out of the land. It is thus clear that the central focus needs to be on the Lord and not on the land. Ateek is clearly influenced here by the important work of W.D. Davies, The Gospel and the Land (1974), required reading for anyone interested in this fundamental issue of Christian attitudes to the land. At the end of the chapter, Ateek draws attention to the specifically Christian devotion to the land. Here is the kernel of a theology of the Holy Land for Christian Palestinians that must be developed and inculcated so that Christians remain attached to the land and resist the temptation to emigrate. The land is the land of the Incarnation, it bears witness to the history of salvation, serving as a “fifth Gospel” and it roots Christian commitment to peacemaking. In these few pages Ateek barely does justice to an extremely important part of his message to his fellow Christian Palestinians, a message much needed right now (118-121).
Chapter 5 is a theological meditation on justice appealing to both the Bible and contemporary politics and experience. Within the discussion, Ateek strongly appeals for the way of non-violence. Justice must be re-established but never through the use of unjust means. However, he also points out that justice can not stand alone but must be intimately linked to compassion. Christians, finally, are called to take up the cross of peace. This meditation is then applied to the Palestinian-Israeli reality in Chapters 6 and 7. First, Ateek insists on the dual prophetic and peace-making role of the Church. The Church must remain true to its image of God, to its proclamation of the truth and to its commitment to peace. Secondly, Ateek shares his own dream with the reader. This dream comes at the end of this long theological reflection and remains faithful to it. Ateek unequivocally states that Jews and Palestinians belong to the land. He does not hide his desire that they live together in the land but is also realistic in accepting a two-state solution to the conflict. Important too is his insistence that Palestinians acknowledge Jewish history, particularly the Holocaust. Ateek insists that it is only the Holocaust that legitimates the creation of the State of Israel on Palestinian land. At the same time, Jews must acknowledge the Palestinian tragedy. Finally, Jerusalem must be shared by all, recognized as the capital of an extended Holy Land federation (including Palestine, Israel, Jordan and Lebanon), a center for Jews, Christians and Muslims. In his conclusion, Ateek adds a plea for forgiveness. He brings his work to a close with prayer, prayer for justice, peace, compassion and pardon.
Questions that remain
Ateek’s reflections are important and pioneering and the rest of this review will seek to engage this theological work in a critical dialogue regarding questions that have been raised by a reading of this book.
1. To whom is the book addressed?
At the beginning of his book, Ateek explains that his audience is (10-11) first and foremost Palestinians in general and Christian Palestinians in particular. However, in his Preface to the Arabic edition, Ateek admits: “The book was first published in English at the pinnacle of the first Palestinian intifada, with the aim of conscientizing the Western reader so that pressure might be exerted on his government for the sake of applying international law in order to solve the Palestinian question” (5). The book often seems to have been written for the Christian American reader, who might tend to assimilate what is going on in the Middle East to what is described in the Bible. For these readers, the State of Israel might appear to be the Biblical “chosen people” of Israel and the Palestinians, the accursed Philistines. This conscientization of foreign Christians is important but does this constitute a theology for Christian Palestinian faithful? This translation into Arabic, in order to make the Arab reader aware of the reflections of a Christian cleric who is both Palestinian and an Israeli citizen, is indeed important. However, Christian (and Muslim) Palestinian and Arab readers might need a further work by this author and his colleagues addressed specifically to them.
2. The political component of theological reflection
Ateek’s reflection is startlingly political; it is indeed a political theology. This is an important part of “liberation theology”; understanding the political component is essential in clarifying the context in which theology is done. However, the question remains whether the political element can be the unique component to a contextual theology. Ateek relates only very briefly to the general context from which Palestinian theological reflection emerges. Of course, this might derive from the problem of naming his theology a theology of “liberation”. Naturally, liberation connotes, in the Palestinian context, liberation from Israeli occupation. However, a Palestinian theology that seeks to be “contextual” or “incarnational” must not overlook other features of Christian Palestinian life. This theology also needs to focus on the ecumenical and inter-religious reality of Palestinian life and address itself to the religious, socio-political and cultural reality of the Palestinian and larger Arab world. Important too is a broader historical, social and cultural perspective on the Christian reality in Palestine. This reality stretches from the disciples of Jesus, through the earliest Christian apologists and Church Fathers (including those who wrote in Arabic), the desert ascetics and monastic masters; in short all the Jerusalem saints and faithful through the centuries.
3. The ecumenical dimension of Palestinian context
Ateek’s writing would certainly be enriched by theological discussion with his colleagues from the other Christian traditions and Churches in the Holy Land, especially in reflecting on the place of the Bible and its hermeneutics, sacramental theology and the land, Christian vocation etc. It is also striking that Ateek hardly mentions the long Eastern tradition of most Christian Palestinians, a tradition for whom the Church Fathers and the monastic experience are fundamental. In this tradition there is both a vital Biblical hermeneutic and a sacramental theology that might deepen a contemporary theological perspective. Ateek’s analyses of Western theology could also be broadened to include a wider spectrum of Christian theology (beyond evangelical and liberal Protestantism) and particularly the type of Christian theological discourse (Catholic and Protestant) at the basis of Jewish-Christian dialogue that is so important in the Western Christian world today. Ateek, as an Anglican, is particularly conscious of the type of Christian Zionist thinking that has emerged in the Anglo-Saxon world but the issue of Christian “spiritual” sympathy for Zionism is also present, albeit in different forms, in European Catholic theology. Ateek’s basic insights in this book can only be enriched and broadened by a heightened ecumenical perspective.

4. The Islamic dimension of Palestinian context
One of the major components of the Palestinian reality, especially from the point of view of Christian theological reflection, is that the context is overwhelmingly Islamic. This not only refers to the fact that statistically Christians are a minority in Palestinian society, but that the society itself, Muslim and Christian, has been profoundly marked by Islam, religion, culture and thought, for 1400 years. Ateek’s is silent on this fact, as he himself admits (10). Should not a Palestinian theology confront the particular relationship between Muslims and Islam on the one hand and Christian Palestinians on the other? Other Palestinian theologians, like Dr. Geries Khoury, Fr. Rafiq Khoury and Patriarch Michel Sabbah, have written on this fundamental element of the Palestinian context. The annual Liqa meetings (held since 1983) on the Arab Heritage of Christians and Muslims have contributed to this aspect of Christian Palestinian theological reflection. Christian Palestinian theologians are called to help the faithful understand their particular vocation in the midst of the Muslim world.
5. The Jewish dimension of Palestinian context
A particularity of the Palestinian Arab reality is its direct contact with Jewish majority society. Palestinian Arabs are the only people who live under or in direct exposure to Jewish majority rule. This gives Christian Palestinian theological reflection a unique role in its approach to dialogue with Judaism and the Jewish people. Ateek dialogues with certain Jewish readers of the Biblical tradition. However, in his discussion of Jewish views, he does not provide the theological bases for a dialogue with the Jewish people, focusing rather on the political bases for such a dialogue, based on criticism of Zionist ideology and Israeli political practice. Ateek, although fundamentally critical of Christian Zionist attitudes, does not examine in any depth the Jewish-Christian dialogue that has emerged in the USA and Europe and that fundamentally conditions a certain Christian discourse that is favorable to Zionism and the State of Israel. The other aspect of this dialogue with the Jewish people that is almost totally absent in this book is the possibility for dialogue with Jews who share the same Arab-Islamic culture as the Christian Palestinians. The long heritage of Jewish acculturation to Arab-Islamic culture is a too often forgotten yet glorious chapter in the history of relations between Jews, Christians and Muslims in the Arab world.
It would be valuable indeed for Christian Palestinian theologians to propose a theology of inter-religious dialogue that emerges from the uniqueness of the Palestinian inter-religious context. This theology would not only help the faithful understand their vocation in relation to both Muslims and Jews, but it would also contribute to the enormously important work of formulating a theology of religious pluralism that is emerging in the Universal Church.

6. The Biblical hermeneutic
The Biblical hermeneutic Ateek proposes is central to his reflection. He sees his book as an attempt to correct the erroneous interpretations of the Bible by Western Christians seeking to ratify Zionism. At the same time he seeks to liberate the Old Testament so that Christian Palestinians might reclaim this integral part of their Sacred Scripture. Ateek’s hermeneutic is certainly a starting point. He makes some very important points regarding the hermeneutic key being Jesus Christ and what Christ reveals regarding the nature of God. However, there is yet work to be done in order to liberate all the texts from erroneous readings. Ateek points out that: “there are certain passages in the Old Testament whose theological presuppositions and even assertions need not be affirmed by the Christian today, because they reflect an early stage of human understanding of God’s revelation that conflicts with the Christian’s understanding of God as revealed in Jesus Christ” (92). While this is undoubtedly true, this attitude exposes itself to the danger of not sufficiently honoring the Christian canon of Scripture. The decision of the Christian community regarding which books of the Bible to include and which to leave out is inspired by the Holy Spirit and central to the identity of the Christian community as Church.
A Biblical hermeneutic, rather than dividing texts into those that are valid and those that are invalid, should seek out the overall dynamic that delineates God’s self-revelation to the human person. Ateek’s Biblical reflections must be taken further whereby God, universal Creator, is understood in the particular relationships defined in Biblical language as exodus, wilderness, covenant and Land. Even the most problematic texts (eg. Joshua’s wars) contain a message that reveals something about the nature of God and God’s revelation to humanity. The texts need to be read and reread in order to discern the message that they communicate to us today. Tensions (including the tension between universalism and particularism) are not resolved by excluding texts but rather these tensions challenge and propel us deeper into the mysterious and intimate life of God. The decisive moment in God’s revelation is indeed Jesus Christ. However, the Old Testament is not only preparation for that moment but also offers us insight into that moment by telling us about the identity of God and God’s chosen creature, the human person, always challenging us to penetrate further. The exploitation of certain texts in order to dispossess and commit injustice does not render these texts invalid but rather challenges the dispossessed to propose an interpretation is in harmony with the overall dynamic of God’s salvation.
7. Doing theology alone?
Ateek’s theological creativity has been born in dialogue with a Catholic American feminist theologian, Rosemary Radford Reuther and a Jewish anti-Zionist theologian, Marc Ellis[5]. After the publication of the book in 1989, Ateek became the major mover behind the foundation of the Sabeel Center, which offers a home for theological reflection within the Palestinian context. Collective reflection is an important part of the theological process today. This was emphasized in the basic document published by the Al-Liqa Center in 1987, Basic Document: Theology and the Local Church. “We are called to think and think together in the spirit of God” (13). Ateek’s book, however, makes no mention of other Palestinian theologians who are confronting these same issues. Has the time not come for Christian Palestinian theologians to confront these issues together? Can we not hope that in their exchange they will plumb the depths of what God is saying to us here and now in the particular historical, political, social, cultural, ecumenical and inter-religious context of the Holy Land?

Naim Ateek has whet our appetite for more, raising fundamental questions and proposing creative responses। Let this conversation continue!

[1] All page references refer to the Arabic edition except where it is explicitly stated that the reference is to the English edition.
[2] It might also be mentioned here that Reuther has written (together with her husband, Herman) a significant study of religious (Jewish, Christian and Muslim) nationalist thinking in the Holy Land, The Wrath of Jonah (San Francisco, Harper and Row, 1989). This book, published contemporaneously with Ateek’s, summarizes Ateek’s thinking too (186-189).
[3] See especially his first book, Chacour, Elias, Blood Brothers (Lincoln Va, Chosen Books, 1984).
[4] There is an unfortunate imprecision in the Arabic translation here. The author wrote “some Western Christians and Jews”; whereas the Arabic translation reads “some Christians in the West and the Jews”. This implies “all Jews” and this is clearly misleading.
[5] These three, Ateek, Reuther and Ellis, collaborated together in editing the proceedings of the First International Symposium on Palestinian Liberation Theology, published as Faith and the Intifada: Palestinian Christian Voices (Maryknoll, Orbis Press, 1992)।
David Neuhaus sj

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