There Are Happy Stories, Too!

By Kathryn Kraft*

I love a good story. Stories can make me laugh or cry, burn in anger or melt in love. I tell stories when I’m trying to make myself understood, and I understand other people so much better when they tell me stories. So I am always on the hunt for a good story, and though it is easy to dwell on horror stories, especially when considering the events in the Middle East during the past few years, I’ve been encouraged by a number of fantastic stories as well.

Research into storytelling in recent years has confirmed that stories have power. Stories have been used in places like post-Apartheid South Africa to help break down racial barriers and begin the long road to reconciliation. Stories have been used by therapists to help people recovering from trauma to better process difficult memories. Stories have been used by big businesses to help get their teams excited about a new project. And an inspiring story can be a powerful fundraising tool.

A few months ago, I did a storytelling training for employees of an educational organisation working in Syria. At the beginning, one of the participants told me why she wanted this training: “We know that what we are doing has a deep spiritual impact, but we don’t know what it is. We are hoping that if we tell more stories, and tell them better, we will be able to capture what we are doing.”

Indeed, I have heard some stories that give me chills when I think of the deep spiritual impact they represent. I met a young man who told me that he and some friends had to quit university because of the war in Syria. After that, they got together and started their own informal wartime project. They knocked on all their neighbours’ doors asking for donations, and once they had gathered a truckload of food and clothing, they crossed enemy lines into a neighbourhood under siege and gave it all to families that were on the brink of starvation. They did this every few weeks. Though this youth was disappointed that he had not completed his education, he had a lot of fun helping people less fortunate.

A young woman living in a refugee camp told me that she had fled Syria a few months previously. Most of her family was with her, she said, except for her oldest brother and his wife. They had stayed behind in their village and refused to leave. I asked her why: isn’t it dangerous? She said that her brother owns the village bakery, and he couldn’t let their neighbours starve. He’d be the last person to leave the village, she said, because whenever he could get his hands on a few kilos of flour he would bake bread and distribute it to anyone still stuck in the village. When there was no flour, he and his wife would collect clothes and blankets and use the bakery as a distribution centre. There was no convincing them that their own safety was more important than their role in caring for their neighbours.

These stories do capture something spiritual. They capture strength of heart, selflessness, commitment and love for others. These were stories told by devout Muslims, but I as a Christian have found that I can learn from their stories about how to behave in a more Christlike way.

Sometimes stories show how our own values change over time. A staff member of an international organisation in Palestine told his supervisors a story last year that broke their hearts: He had encountered a teenage boy in a refugee camp who was being teased by some of the other boys in the camp, and this teenage boy was so angry at his situation that he trained in martial arts and beat up the other boys. This story presented a bleak outlook for peace in Palestine.

But then six months later, the same staff member told a different story: He had met another teenage boy in a similar situation, who also studied martial arts, but this boy chose to focus his new-found discipline and focus on helping younger kids in the camp, playing games with them and teaching them valuable life lessons. We talked about these two boys, their different responses to a difficult situation. We all agreed that we want the youth in Palestine with whom we work to be more like the second boy.

And sometimes stories capture lessons that we, perhaps, all know deep in our hearts but don’t want to admit. One of my favourite stories comes from a little village in northern Africa where hardly a month in the last decade has passed without violent inter-tribal fighting. One Saturday, on market day when all the farmers come in to sell their meagre wares, a motorcycle hit a woman who was carrying her vegetables to market. The woman was killed. By the tribal customs, the woman’s family should take revenge by hunting down and killing the motorcyclist, as well as some of his family members. Alternately, a local council could decide the motorcyclist’s fate, which would most likely include, at minimum, his execution. The family agreed to let the council of respected elders review the case. The council considered the situation: a young woman whose future and whose ability to contribute financially to her family’s needs was lost, an accidental killing by a man who demonstrated remorse, and a community that had seen way too much bloodshed already. They concluded: the man should apologise to the victim’s family and offer to pay them retribution. Everyone accepted the verdict and peace returned to the village.

It was a member of a peace-building team who told me this. I asked her why it was a good story. She said: “Because it shows how powerful an apology can be! When we ask for forgiveness, the conflict can disappear.” With a story and interpretation like this, I sometimes wonder what would happen if we devoted ourselves more to good stories in this troubled region?

Kathryn Kraft

Kathryn Kraft serves as Support Faculty for the MENA Cultures module of IMES’s Master of Religion in Middle Eastern and North African Studies program. Dr. Kraft has lived and worked in various Arab countries since 2001. She has a MA in Middle East studies from the American University of Beirut, and a PhD in Sociology from the University of Bristol, England. She has worked in a variety of fields including research, peace and reconciliation, emergency relief and social development. In addition, Dr. Kraft lectures in International Development at the University of East London.

Middle East Consultation 2015 – Discipleship Today: Identity and Belonging in the Middle East & North Africa

15 – 19 June 2015

Beirut, Lebanon

The Institute of Middle East Studies at the Arab Baptist Theological Seminary is pleased to announce 2015’s Middle East Consultation [MEC 2015]. Last year’s MEC was an enriching and edifying consultation that identified a number of significant challenges related to discipleship in the Middle East and North Africa [MENA]. Based on the findings of MEC 2014, this year’s consultation will focus on specific challenges related to “identity” and “belonging” that face followers of Jesus within the MENA context. These challenges are particularly important given the diverse socio-religious and cultural backgrounds of Christ-followers in the region and of those leaders who seek to disciple them.

It became apparent through the course of MEC 2014 that we live in a world where belonging to multiple social and cultural traditions is the reality for many. Identity can be understood as a complex and multi-dimensional aspect of human life, formed in response to a variety of dynamic social, cultural, historical, political, religious and spiritual experiences and commitments within today’s globalized and interconnected world. In light of this, some of the questions to be explored as part of MEC 2015 include:

  • What emotional and psychological trials are experienced by those choosing to follow Jesus within the MENA context?
  • How might new followers of Jesus understand, develop and define their new-found identity ‘in Christ,’ while at the same time taking seriously their particular socio-cultural and religious context?
  • What factors allow disciples to have confidence in their identity to the degree that they can become effective witnesses within their own community capable of discipling others?
  • How might a disciple’s personal narrative be convincing for members of his or her family? How might family, marriage and child rearing issues be addressed?
  • And, how might the regional and global Body of Christ support Christ-followers from diverse socio-cultural backgrounds within and beyond the MENA context to grow and become influential leaders?

The core of MEC 2015 will consist of listening to in-depth testimonies from those who live in the midst of specific challenges pertaining to identity and belonging. The consultation also provides an opportunity to reflect upon and analyze the diverse social and religious dynamics at hand through a process of theological reflection via round-table discussion, as well as conversations with global thinkers from diverse social and cultural backgrounds. Leading missiologists will give keynote presentations on a range of related themes, which will in turn be reflected upon and discussed by those personally facing such challenges in the region. This hermeneutical dynamic (or process of accountable theological reflection) provides a framework for mutual enrichment within the worldwide Body of Christ, one that we are sure will impact the future of Christ-centred witness in and beyond the MENA region.

For more information about MEC 2015 – Discipleship Today: Identity and Belonging in the Middle East and North Africa, please contact IMES@ABTSLebanon.org or await additional details to be at announced at IMESLebanon.wordpress.com.

Resisting ISIS! Beyond Secularism and Religious Fanaticism

by Martin Accad

The Middle East is in turmoil! That’s a bit of an understatement. Are you feeling frustrated and helpless about it? This has been an ongoing feeling for me since ISIS (the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria) hit the headlines and invaded our private imaginations relentlessly through Facebook, YouTube and other social and conventional media throughout this past summer.

So about a month ago I decided to do something about it. Something small, I admit, but I just could not bear to remain a victim of their assault. So I set up this Facebook page called TReCooL, which stands for ‘The Religious Coalition of Love.’ It is a simple act of resistance to the lethal polarization that ISIS and other religious fanatics keep pushing our world into. Simple but cool! They want Christians and other ‘numeric minorities’ to feel that they don’t belong in the Middle East, to reach the conclusion that we have no future.

I confess that, even as someone who views myself as a lifetime student of Islam, as someone who believes in my mind that the religious fanatics represent the minority voice, as one who is constantly involved in interfaith dialogue and who views multifaith society not as a problem, but as a source of strength, I am having a really hard time maintaining a balanced perspective. I refuse to buy into the growing popular narrative that says that ISIS represents the majority voice of Islam. What we need now is not a reactionary agenda, but creative, constructive, and proactive initiatives.

I imagine a multitude – millions of people – networked together through Facebook, Twitter and smartphone apps, who have joined a ‘coalition of love,’ simply in protest against the violent extremist religious narrative.

Imagine with me – being part of a movement of people who recognize candidly that all religions have the inherent potential to produce peaceful and loving individuals.

Imagine that we, as a movement, would affirm that individual religious people don’t need to defend or justify themselves or their religion, when bloodthirsty and hateful thugs commit atrocities in the name of that same religion as theirs.

Imagine joining thousands of others who simply want to affirm that they are Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Hindu, Buddhist, Baha’i, Yazidi, or just of no explicit faith, and that they hold on to love and peace.

Imagine being part of a movement of millions who are religious, as well as both peaceful and loving, a movement called – say – TReCooL, ‘The Religious Coalition of Love.’

Imagine joining this movement simply as a protest against all of today’s abuses committed in the name of your religion or that of your neighbor.

By simply clicking here and ‘liking’ the TReCool Facebook page, you will be increasing the number in this network. TReCooL has no other agenda than simply affirming that WE, you and I, are the Majority, and that religious hatefuls are the minority. That’s what our world needs to hear and know today.

If you want to be stimulated to think more about this issue, why don’t you watch my talk in the video below, which I gave last month at an event organized by the Baptist Mission Society (BMS) in the UK, entitled Catalyst Live? And then please join the conversation in the comments section below. Share your views and perhaps other simple initiatives that could push towards a paradigm shift in our thinking about this majority/minority thing.

Video: MRel Students Share about the Program’s Impact on their Ministries

The Master of Religion in Middle Eastern and North African Studies (MRel in MENA Studies) program is a unique and innovative multidisciplinary program of IMES based at the Arab Baptist Theological Seminary (ABTS) in Beirut, Lebanon.

In the videos below, four MRel students living and ministering in the Middle East – Brent Hammoud, Louise Brown, Suzie Lahoud and Chris Todd – share about their experiences in the MRel program and how the modules have positively impacted their respective ministries.

The MRel focuses on providing a strong theoretical understanding of the region and the issues that it faces, combined with an emphasis on developing applied skills needed to work in the region and among MENA communities worldwide. It is based upon a strong theological and Biblical framework in that each module weaves scripture and theology into its theory and practice and intentionally incorporates spiritual formation among students. Find out more at: imeslebanon.wordpress.com/mrel/

The MRel in MENA Studies program is designed to provide students with a degree of flexibility, enabling them to continue with their existing work and lives while simultaneously attaining an advanced degree. The MRel is organized into modules rather than courses to allow for more effective multidisciplinary inquiry and learning, from within the MENA or beyond. Instruction and learning is achieved through a combination of 2-week residencies in Lebanon per module and the use of distance learning technologies that facilitate discussion and feedback. Being based in the region, the program exposes students to the rich historical, cultural and religious heritage of the MENA.

Additional testimonials will be uploaded soon to the ABTS Lebanon YouTube channel.

A Kingdom Reality-Check in the Middle East Crisis

Jesus was all about his kingdom. The first declaration of his public ministry was “Repent for the Kingdom of God is at hand.” He communicated the nature of it in parable and story. His miracles demonstrated its authority over every sphere of life and he called his disciples to abandon all present loyalties for its sake. The genealogical records of the Gospels and citations of the prophets depict Jesus as its fulfillment—the promised Messiah-King.

Most Christians would give ready assent to the preceding paragraph, yet the real impact of Jesus’ Kingdom seems to escape us when dealing with thorny existential realities such as the current crisis in the Middle East. The parties which clamor for our attention are those which play a visible and material role in the conflict—ISIS, Khorazon, the Nusra Front, the Free Syrian army, the regime of Syrian president Asad, the Peshmerga (the Kurdish forces) and now, of course, the “coalition of the willing” led by the United States and its allies.

Would anyone dare to make the preposterous claim that Jesus is the enthroned king presently ruling over the chaos of the Middle East? Would you?

Some might respond, “Well if he is the king and he rules over this mess, he’s either powerless or heartless. A real king—one with real authority—would put a stop to the senseless killing, the displacement of peoples and the spread of violent religious radicalism.”

Fair enough. So the senseless blood-letting, often perpetrated in the name of religion and for the preservation of power must be divorced from Jesus’ kingdom. The former has nothing to do with the latter. One is the action of the empires of this world while the Kingdom of Jesus is something else. Drawing a line of demarcation between the empires of this world and the Kingdom of God ruled by Jesus gives us an easy out. We no longer need face the question: “How can Jesus be King amidst such devastation?”

“What should we do?” –that’s the question I’ve heard in a number of different contexts. There is an assumption behind the question. “We” is some group, some faction. Spoken in the West “we” might refer to the military coalition. In the Middle East, it might refer to one of the warring factions. For many, I suspect this natural question betrays a misplaced loyalty—an assumption that our most effective action must be carried out through the empires of this world. After all, in the real world, someone has to win. And someone has to lose. Right?

But Jesus calls us to a different “real world,” a new reality, a new way of being—his Kingdom.

The Kingdom of God is in and among the empires of this world but neither contained by them nor subservient to them. The new Kingdom coexists with the powers that be, ever calling them to bow the knee to its King but never coercing them. The line of advance of this Kingdom is not marked by swords and spears (tanks and F16’s in our day) but by the absorption of evil in the willing embrace of suffering by Kingdom people. Jesus’ followers were told in no uncertain terms that to follow Him meant embracing his cross.

The Kingdom is anticipated by the first of its line of sovereigns—King David—who, though anointed as king, was nonetheless pursued like an animal by the pseudo-king Saul. His suffering, portrayed vividly in the Psalms, was God’s plan for the eventual consummation of his kingdom. David’s steadfast refusal to take vengeance in his own hands and kill Saul prepared the people for a more noble expression of the Kingdom. David’s kingdom is a prototype of Jesus’ Kingdom. Jesus, anointed and enthroned, has now poured out his Spirit on his followers from all nations and peoples. United by the outpoured Spirit, they form the body of Christ on earth. His body continues to be pursued and persecuted on earth as he awaits his Kingdom consummation. The suffering of Christ’s body is no aberrant mishap. It is the Kingdom strategy.

So in view of this Kingdom reality-check, what is our response to the current Middle East crisis?

First, Jesus’ Kingdom is in and among the empires of this world, even in the Middle East. We must hold the suffering of Christ’s people in the Middle East in the forefront of our thoughts and prayers. This is no aberrant mishap. The displacement of thousands of Iraqi and Syrian Christians is a vivid portrayal of the realities that Jesus taught concerning His Kingdom that suffers with, in and among the peoples of this world. By so doing, it offers them an alternative kingdom—a King of Peace whose reign is procured, not by inflicting suffering on others but by his own suffering at the hands of this world’s empires. Jesus’ Kingdom people ask “How can I share in the suffering of Christ’s people in the Middle East?”

Second, we must replace our misplaced loyalties. No matter which faction you identify with in the Middle East conflict, if you are a Jesus-follower, your fealty can only be given to one King. Now the question “what should we do?” again takes on new meaning. The “we” is not your birth country or the faction with which you are aligned, but the people of the Kingdom of Jesus from all nations and peoples. That difference requires us to divest ourselves of our national interests and embrace the multi-cultural reality of the new Kingdom. Think about it.

Third, because the Kingdom of Jesus has renounced violence as its modus operandi, it becomes a viable (perhaps the only viable) candidate for peace-making and reconciliation. It appears that every faction in the current crisis presses its own advantage to the detriment, even destruction, of the other parties in the conflict. “Kill or be killed” is the law of the jungle, but never the law of the Kingdom of Christ. Christ-followers seek the good of their enemies. “Love your enemies. Do good to those who hate you. Bless those who persecute you.” Such is the radical self-giving nature of Jesus’ Kingdom. Is it blissful naiveté? Not at all. It is the reality of following a King who hung from a cross and cried “Father forgive them for they know not what they do.” Nothing is more real than that. What if Christ left his people (his body) in the conflicts of this world as his unique means of peace-making and reconciliation? If so, then maybe the greatest obstacle to peace-making is our stubborn affiliation with the empires of this world. “Blessed are the peace-makers, for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven.”

By the way, this is not a plea for non-violent resistance per se. Even if we recognize the legitimate right of sovereign states to engage in armed resistance, we must press further to ask how my loyalty to Christ’s Kingdom positions me differently than my affiliation with one or more of the warring factions in the Middle East.

Jesus appears before an empire-leader of his own day. He is robed in royal purple, crowned with thorns, accused of insurrection, while a mob calls for him to be nailed to wooden beams. The pseudo empire-leader reprimands Jesus’ silence, “Do you not know that I have authority to crucify you?” The mob casts its lot with the empire, “We have no king but Caesar!” Despite all outward appearances to the contrary, Jesus states that the empire-leader would have no authority unless it had been given him from above (see John 19:11).

“…No authority were it not given them by God.”

Might the true Kingdom of Jesus, despite all outward appearances, actually be in and among the conflict, still suffering, still giving itself for the sake of the world, still calling people of all nations to its embrace of peace?

The Local Church: A Place of Compassion in the Syrian Crisis

AKKAR

By Rupen Das

The Syrian conflict has now become a slow meat grinder with hundreds being killed every month, while families and communities across Syria are being systematically destroyed. There are no good guys in this conflict and there are no visible and viable solutions being considered.

In the “fog of war” it is very easy to miss the small signs of hope in the midst of the evil. One of these signs is the role that many local Arab churches have assumed during the Syrian crisis. As the present Syrian crisis developed and spilled into Lebanon over the past three years, the Lebanese Baptist community, officially the Lebanese Society for Educational and Social Development (LSESD), [of which IMES as a department of the Arab Baptist Theological Seminary (ABTS) is a subsidiary ministry], decided to respond to the unfolding humanitarian crisis. Being a church based agency, it worked to empower local churches inside Syria and in Lebanon to reach beyond their comfort zones and social boundaries to help those in need. This is a story of reconciliation that has not yet been told.

Syria had occupied Lebanon for 20 years and every Lebanese family has stories of their homes being destroyed, family members killed, imprisoned and tortured, and the country systematically destroyed. The decision by a handful of Lebanese pastors to reach out to Syrian refugees in Lebanon meant being able to forgive the Syrians and then lead their congregations to forgive. This went against the grain of Lebanese society and to date most of these pastors face opposition for their actions from family, neighbours and others in the community. In one church, 85% of the congregation left the church because the pastor decided to help the refugees. Inside Syria, where the Protestant Churches over the centuries had become very insular, many among them decided to make their churches places of compassion for people of any faith to find help.

In the process, we are learning lessons about the role of the local church in the midst of crisis. Five such lessons are:

1. The local church is an institution in the community: Evangelicals too often focus on the church as a spiritual body that is concerned primarily with what happens after life. There is no doubt that the Church, which is the Body of Christ, is a link between physical and spiritual realities. What is often not understood is the fact that a local church is a religious institution in the community. If this is true, then it has obligations to the community in which it exists. John Inge, the Bishop of Worcester in the UK writes about a Christian theology of place. Places and community are integrally linked and together build the identity of the other. A local church exists in a specific physical and social place within a community for a purpose.

The local church, as an institution in the community, has visibility, history, credibility and relationships. It is a part of the community. Because of this, it is a natural place through which a relief project can be implemented, as long as there is no conditionality or manipulation using the aid that is being provided.

2. A local church needs to be a church and not an NGO or a social service organization: Many Christian NGOs and donors that seek to work with and through local churches unintentionally turn these churches into social service organization through their requirements and restrictions. The functions of a local church include being a worshiping community, preaching, teaching, discipling, counseling, praying and assisting those in need. Eph. 4: 12-13 describes the gifts given to the church in order “to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ.” This is the function of a local church.

Some well-intentioned donors, because of historic precedence, require churches receiving their funding to not be involved in evangelism or any form of proselytism or in any other spiritual activity during the period when aid is being provided. This is based on a humanitarian standard called the Red Cross Code of Conduct. They feel that it would be manipulative because of the power dynamics involved between those providing the aid and the beneficiaries. There are power dynamics in every human relationship and eliminating them is not realistic or possible. However, they can be managed and their impact minimized. The issue is that there should be no conditionality to the aid as it is being provided nor should there be manipulation by those providing the aid. The local church needs to continue to be a church and not a social service agency. However, helping those in need is one of its functions among all the others.

3. The local church needs to minister to those outside its community: Ibn Khaldun, the 14th century North African historian and father of sociology wrote, “Only tribes held together by group feelings can live in the desert…” since the group ensured the survival and well-being of the individual. Yet this obligation was always limited in practice to the immediate group, family or clan and very rarely beyond it. In the Arab culture the family and the tribe take care of their own. As a result the Arab social context is very fragmented.

Croatian theologian Miroslav Volf wrote about this in his book Exclusion and Embrace. Speaking from within the context of the Balkans (which is similar to the Arab world), he noticed that during times of crisis churches excluded those who were outsiders and different as a way to protect themselves. Yet, he notes that God, who has every right to exclude us because of our wanting to be different from Him and what He created us to be, does not do so but embraces us. This then becomes the model for the church to show compassion to outsiders and not just those within the church.

4. The local church needs to partner with others within the community and beyond: As we have a seen, the local church has specific roles and functions within a community. In order to be compassionate it does not have to develop the skills and capacity to provide the full range of social services. Instead it needs to partner with other organizations and individuals within the community and beyond with similar values. Such a network would enable the church to access the needed services as and when needed while maintaining its distinctiveness within the community. 

5. The local church needs to understand its mission and mandate: The community of the followers of Christ should not only remember the last thing He said (the Great Commission Matt. 28:19-20) but also the greatest thing He said (the Great Commandment Matt. 22:36-40), to love the Lord and one’s neighbor. The Micah Declaration refers to the mission and the mandate of the Church as Integral Mission:

Integral mission or holistic transformation is the proclamation and demonstration of the gospel. It is not simply that evangelism and social involvement are to be done alongside each other. Rather, in integral mission our proclamation has social consequences as we call people to love and repentance in all areas of life. And our social involvement has evangelistic consequences as we bear witness to the transforming grace of Jesus Christ. If we ignore the world we betray the word of God, which sends us out to serve the world. If we ignore the word of God we have nothing to bring to the world… As in the life of Jesus, being, doing and saying are at the heart of our integral task.

In the Syrian crisis, the local church as an institution in the community has enabled access to areas and to refugees and those affected by violence that would not have been possible otherwise. While many organizations are providing assistance, the local church can be a place of refuge and compassion.

The Personal Touch: Discovering the Humanity in International Conflict

By Lexy Airey*

This summer I had the pleasure of serving IMES as part of an intensive internship experience. As a student of political science and a young Christian, it was an incredibly educational experience for me. I had come to Lebanon seeking understanding of the Middle East and was blessed with the best kind of education: personal relationships. It has become abundantly apparent to me that no conflict situation can be properly understood unless you begin to love the people involved. It seems like the most intuitive thing in the world to me now, but it took my experience in the Middle East to fully erode the picture I had of this region and reveal the potential power of loving your neighbor.

Growing up, I lived in a fairly conservative American household. Like most young people from my background I thought little about the Middle East, or foreign policy in general, and the opinions I did have reflected a loose and underdeveloped support for Israel. As a child of 9/11 I had a general resentment towards Islam and didn’t feel the need to understand its moderate side. As a young Christian, if the Middle East ever came up in church settings, the conflicts were characterized as being a very natural battle between Isaac vs. Ishmael. I say all this because many people look at the Christian evangelical community in the US and think we are a bunch of Zionists, but I think that for my generation there is simply a lack of interest and education that perpetuates ignorance, rather than any proactive support. For many young people it only takes an informed professor to make them reevaluate the unexamined opinions they’ve been handed. For me, it was the girls from Yemen and Lebanon I met in high school who made me realize that the Middle East wasn’t a single homogeneous place with one people and that Islam was a complex worldview, not a doctrine of murder.

When I came to Lebanon this past Summer I found that many people I met had the same question: why does the US always support Israel no matter what? While it is relatively easy to identify the political motivators, lobbyist groups, public apathy, media narratives and Christian Zionist ideologies responsible for this unilateral and over-permissive support of Israel, I should rather be honest about my own ignorance on the issue and of my responsibility in allowing it to continue in my community. Because the truth is I was one of “those Americans” and, though I didn’t stay that way for long, if the right people didn’t cross my path I would probably still be walking through my life with the same assumptions, stereotypes and apathy. This once again points us to the importance of seeing the humanity affected by the opinions we hold.

Working this summer with interns from across the Middle East and interacting with people from all around the MENA region at IMES’s Middle East Consultation (MEC) forced me to reevaluate how I both discover and engage with information. Though I know my friends in the Middle East have their own biases as well, living in Lebanon has opened my ears to a whole new set of narratives that force me to seek out additional information on the actual people involved in conflict situations.

Being, for example, only a few hours removed from the Israeli-Gaza conflict and seeing the apparent intractability and mutual hatred expressed on each side, it’s not as easy to politicize and rationalize or dehumanize (intentionally or not) the parties involved. So who do you support? The side claiming to protect its citizens from traumatic fear and imminent terrorist action, or the side desperately trying to relieve a humanitarian crisis and free its people from imprisonment and a life without hope? Because human beings, same as you or I, reside at the heart of this conflict and to write them away as nothing more than “extremists” or “religious crazies” is to ignore the basic human desires, the love for family and friends and the fear and hate driving this conflict. I have begun to think about how I would feel if someone discredited my actions as a result of my own “crazy” beliefs without giving any thought to any rational decisions that went into them. So how can we change that perception and once again humanize everyone in the conflict, not simply this side or that?

It should be obvious that as soon as you humanize any issue, the problem becomes far more complex. Justice often seems easier if you aren’t emotionally involved, but this is in fact false justice. We forget too often that “acting justly” goes hand-in-hand with “loving mercy” (Micah 6:8), a synthesis at which Jesus, who always seemed to humanize any situation, was an expert. So we must remember that political systems are simply different arrangements of peoples. Therefore, to be ignorant of the people involved is to be the most ignorant politician, political scientist, political activist, pundit or opinion holder one could be. This was a major reason I came to the Middle East.

For example, it may seem easy to understand the political desire to limit the amount of Syrian refugees entering Lebanon; a nation still reeling from a civil war partially caused by the destabilizing effects of influxes of Palestinian refugees in 1948 should naturally be wary of any demographic upset that could threaten the delicate sectarian balance of the parliamentary democratic republic of Lebanon. However, when you see the families and the desperate situation of the Syrian refugees it makes it nearly impossible to sacrifice these people’s well-being for the sake of political stability. It doesn’t make “forward thinking, rational” calculations necessarily wrong, it just stops you from making them without empathy and compassion.

When people asked me why I wanted to go to Lebanon it was easy for them to understand my political interest in going. I’m studying politics and this area has extreme political salience. However, I wasn’t in Lebanon to observe conflicts or political institutions. I was there to serve people. One can’t understand the human face of a conflict unless we go and build personal relationships with the places and peoples involved. This discovery, however, comes with a lot of heartbreak. When I hear and read of how Christians and other minorities are being executed in Iraq, when I see Syrian refugee children looking for hope and education, when I listen to my Lebanese friends worry about their families in the Bekaa Valley as violence develops, and when I personally hear explosions in Beirut, a city far too familiar with rockets and bombs, my heart aches for my new friends.

I have found, however, that this also comes with great joy. Having the opportunity to interact with brothers and sisters in Christ from all over the MENA region at the Middle East Consultation allowed me to hear and be a part of the stories of the worldwide church. I cannot articulate how thankful I am for being a part of this annual gathering that IMES has put together. The testimonies and stories that I heard by listening to the diverse group of participants widened my thinking on and my love for the global church a thousand-fold. It is truly these kinds of interpersonal interactions that will bridge the gaps of ignorance, fear and hatred. It is therefore my hope that this globalized generation might begin to see themselves as not only more technologically connected, but emotionally and spiritually as well. If my experience in Lebanon has taught me anything it is that the more genuine friends you have, the more dynamic and beautiful the world becomes. Let us pray that we can be the light of Christ’s love in all places.

lexiLexi Airey is a student at Westmont College in Santa Barabra, California studying Political Science and Business. Lexi worked as an intern for IMES during the summer of 2014. She is a member of the Middle East Current Affairs (MECA) group and is an active promoter of interfaith discussions at Westmont.

Preventing Radicalisation

by Colin Chapman*

Radicalisation is one of the pressing issues of our time, and as a long-time lecturer in Islamic studies in Beirut, it is something that I have thought about deeply. I would therefore like to present my thoughts on preventing this coming about. Assuming that we’re not talking about Islamists who reject the use of violence and are committed to work through democratic processes to create a more just Islamic society, but about Islamists who turn to violence, this would by my 10-point plan:

1. Recognise the many different faces of Islam.

While some Muslims are highly political, many are pietistic and even mystical, and others live in the world of Folk Islam or Rural Islam. Some Muslims embrace modernity, while others want to conserve the past with all its values and social customs (including its views of women). If there is violent and non-violent Islamism, there is also what has been called “post-Islamism” which incorporates democracy and pluralism into Islamism . Islam has as many faces as Christianity, and the vast majority of Muslims who are as critical of violent jihadis as all of us are should be encouraged to make their voices heard.

2. Understand more about Islam and encourage Muslims to be more self-critical about their history.

In what is known as the Hijra, in 622AD Muhammad moved from Mecca to create the first Islamic state in Medina. Three of the first caliphs died violent deaths. By 732AD, Arab Muslims had created an empire stretching from France and Spain to the borders of China. Later they had their Safavid, Mughal and Ottoman empires. If we in the West have had to agonise over the Crusades, the slave trade and imperialism, are Muslims prepared to be as self-critical about their history? Of all the different brands of Islamism on offer in Muslim-majority countries today, has any succeeded in creating a truly just society?

3. Understand the importance of social and political issues.

It’s been a basic conviction of Muslims that the state should ideally be Islamic and follow God-given shari‘a. The theologian Lesslie Newbigin often pointed out how the western secular mind-set had privatised religion and therefore found it difficult to cope with Muslims who want God to be recognised in the public sphere. Christians have a special responsibility to be bridge-builders because they should be able to understand both the secular and the Muslim mind.

4. Address local social and economic issues.

‘I’m not afraid of Islam,’ says Philip Lewis, a Christian expert on Islam in Britain, ‘but I am afraid of thousands of poorly educated young Muslim men who have no work.’ Poverty, unemployment and poor prospects don’t explain everything; but they are major factors in creating the discontent, which can lead to radicalisation.

5. Understand the anger of many Muslims.

After 9/11, instead of asking ‘Why are these people so angry and do they have good reason to be angry?’, Americans put all their energies into ‘the war on terror’. The Muslim world is still living with what they have felt as the trauma of centuries of western imperialism, and their list of current grievances includes Israel/Palestine, Kashmir, Chechnya and the Iraq war of 2003. The best way to respond to anger from others is first to put ourselves in their shoes and understand why they’re angry. We can challenge them if we feel their anger is unjustified. But at the very least we should be willing to see ourselves as others see us and own up to what we’ve done to provoke them.

6. Press for a resolution of the Israel-Palestinian conflict.

Why is it that Israel has been allowed by the international community to continue its occupation of the West Bank, which most of the world believes is illegal in international law? If a lasting solution to this conflict could be worked out, Muslims would have one less reason to be angry.

7. Press Muslims to explain why they believe the jihadi interpretations are wrong.

When jihadis feel that the West has been making war on Islam, they inevitably identify with Muhammad who was under attack from the Meccans, and then apply to themselves the more warlike verses in the Qur’an. It’s not enough for Muslim leaders to repeat the mantra ‘Islam is a religion of peace’ or to say that qur’anic verses are being taken out of context. There are some hard questions that they need to answer about their scriptural sources and their history.

8. Recognise the negative consequences of multiculturalism.

Sometimes it looks as if ethnic communities have been encouraged to remain closed and self-contained, while governments have channeled resources through Muslim organisations. In an effort to affirm different ethnic and religious communities, these approaches have often led to separation more than integration.

9. Encourage public debate between different kinds of Muslims.

I would love to see a debate/discussion on TV between a thoughtful jihadi (yes – there must be some!) and a Muslim who can give good Islamic reasons for saying that the jihadi interpretations are wrong. It could be important for young Muslims who are drawn towards radicalisation to learn from the experience of Muslims who have become disillusioned with their jihadi world-view.

10. Encourage Muslims to engage with other faith communities.

When I used to take theological students to visit a mosque in Bristol and asked if a group of Muslims would like to visit our college, these were some of the responses I received from the leaders there: ‘We’re not experts in Islam and are too busy looking after our own community. And since we believe that Islam is the true religion, what would we have to learn from talking to Christians?’ If these attitudes are shared by ordinary Muslims, anything that helps Muslims to engage with the wider community – and especially with people of faith – will help Muslims to talk seriously with non-Muslims. If young men drawn to jihadi violence are genuinely concerned about creating a just society, they may find that there are others around them who have a similar passion, and that Christians in particular have a vision of what the kingdom of God might look like, both here in Britain where I live and across the world.

NB All of the above need to be attempted in one way or another!

(This post originally appeared on the website for Theos: Clear Thinking on Religion and Society. See more at: http://www.theosthinktank.co.uk/comment/2014/09/09/how-do-we-prevent-radicalisation#sthash.cN8zbnm1.dpuf)

MEC 2012 - Day 1 (9)Colin Chapman currently serves as Lead Faculty for the MENA Islam Module of IMES’s Master of Religion in Middle Eastern and North African Studies (MRel in MENA Studies) program. Chapman worked with CMS in the Middle East for 18 years and he previously taught Islamic Studies at the Near East School of Theology in Beirut. He has taught at Trinity College, Bristol, and was principal of Crowther Hall, the CMS training college in Selly Oak, Bristol.

**The MENA Islam module for IMES’s MRel in MENA Studies program led by Colin launches October 13th, 2014**

Christians at the Heart of the Middle East’s Future

By Martin Accad

Middle East Patriarchs at IDC Summit

Source: IDC

Three weeks ago, on September 9-11, 2014, the well-publicized conference entitled ‘In Defense of Christians’ (IDC) was held in Washington, D.C. As Arab Christians, we are grateful for this gigantic effort. There are numerous positive aspects to this initiative. A large proportion of the speakers were actually senior leaders of the Christian communities of the Middle East. Many, both on the Board of Advisers and on the Executive Leadership of IDC are Arabs living both in the US and in the Arab World. Speakers for the most part did not take an ‘us-and-them’ approach vis-à-vis Muslims, as many of them are also active in interfaith dialogue work. The fact that, by all accounts, President Obama was thoroughly briefed on the contents of the speeches, and that many other significant US leaders were in attendance, was certainly an outstanding achievement as well.

But there are also some problems with the philosophical starting point of a conference like this one, and of many others, as well as of books and other media, that call for the ‘protection of Christian minorities,’ or that discuss the ‘future of Christianity in the Middle East,’ or ones that highlight the ‘demise of Christians in the Middle East,’ and so on. Here are a few problems that come to mind:

  1. First, such events risk representing Christians of the Middle East as some sort of intruders in the region. The Middle East was once the cradle of Christianity. Yet in several countries of the Arab world, there are so few visible marks of Christianity that many Muslims are not even aware that their lands were once populated with Christians. Any discourse that represents Christians as needing protection from the outside risks reinforcing the skewed notion that casts them as foreigners, as some sort of ‘franchise’ of western Christianity.
  2. Secondly, rarely does anyone stop to ask for a definition of the word ‘minority’ as used in this context. The assumption seems to be that ‘minority’ status has to do with number only. But then it would be better to specify that we are discussing the ‘numeric minority’ status of Christians in the Middle East. Philosophically speaking, I would argue that Christians of the Middle East belong to the ‘silent majority.’ It is this silent majority, made up of Christians and Muslims (Sunni and Shii), Druze, Jews, Yazidis, Ahmadis, Baha’is, agnostics, and others, that we are a part of. This silent majority continues to be bullied and persecuted by religious fanatics of all walks of life. It is true that groups like the Islamic State (ISIS) and Boko Haram have brought Sunni Islam in particular to the center of this minority/majority problem. But religious fanaticism is also at the heart of certain expressions of Zionism, just as it can also drive waves of hate speech towards Muslims among some Christians around the world.
  3. Thirdly, with such a philosophical starting point, we are only reinforcing the representation of Christians of the Middle East as weak and insignificant. But this is a false representation. It suffices to study the consistently high impact of the Christian communities of the Middle East throughout history to see that this representation is wrong. Think of the universities, schools and hospitals that have been established by Christians and continue to be the centers of learning, healing and progress under the able leadership of Middle East Christians, and you will realize that impact and influence has nothing to do with numbers.
  4. Fourth, such conferences as the one organized ‘In Defense of Christians’ could reinforce the ‘minority complex’ and ‘survival mentality’ of Middle East Christians. The problem is that this ‘complex’ and ‘mentality’ neutralize Middle East Christians’ resolve to be a part of the Middle East’s future. It is this feeling of being weak, of needing protection, of being persecuted (however true these may be), that drive us Middle East Christians to emigrate and barely to strive for ‘survival’ rather than thrive and continue to lead in the region.
  5. And finally, this ‘minority’ approach tends to pit Christians, Muslims, Jews, and others even more against each other. By continuing to insist that Christians are a ‘persecuted minority’ and by continuing to paint the ‘persecutor’ generally as being simply Muslim, both Christians and Muslims of the Middle East are becoming increasingly convinced that this is the true and only picture of reality. But Muslims have been persecuted by their own states and their security apparatuses, as well as by Muslim fanatical groups of differing doctrinal beliefs for centuries. How, then, does it help to reinforce the idea simply that ‘Muslims are persecuting Christians’? As balanced as the speeches of the Middle East Christian leaders were at the In Defense of Christians conference, the absence of Muslim leaders, both as speakers and as organizers and leaders of the IDC is conspicuous, and at some level it hurts the initiative’s credibility.

What is needed at this point in the Middle East’s tragic history is a summit which would aim to provoke a paradigm shift in the popular discourse. Such a gathering would take a title like: ‘Christians at the Heart of the Middle East’s Future,’ or ‘A Faith-Driven Majority against Minority Religious Bigots,’ or something in those lines.

  1. Such a summit should justifiably keep its focus on the Christians of the Middle East, since they are a major at-risk group at the moment, but it would invite speeches both from Christian, Muslim and other leaders.
  2. In addition to advocacy, this summit would call on ‘western powers’ to step down their militarization of conflicts in the Middle East. What is needed in these tragic days is not the arming of so-called ‘minority’ or ‘opposition’ groups. Haven’t most conflicts that we are living today been triggered by this strategy of arming a supposedly ‘aligned’ group against another supposed ‘rogue’ group? What is needed at this point more than ever is a demilitarization and de-escalation of the conflict. If western powers want to bomb anything, they should bomb arms depots on all sides of the conflict!
  3. Finally, this summit should call for a reassignment of these obscene militarization budgets to aggressive strategies of education, community development, state building, and the eradication of systemic corruption across the Middle East.

In conclusion, YES! As Christians of the Middle East, we are being persecuted. We are being driven out of our homes and many churches are being burnt down. We are being pushed to emigrate out of the region. We are becoming less and less hopeful about our children’s ability to live peacefully in this part of the world. But the enemy is not simply ‘Islam.’ Conferences, media, pressure groups, preachers, teachers and writers who keep reinforcing this simplistic message are not helping us. They are not defending us, protecting us, or ensuring the prevention of our demise.

This question requires a major paradigm shift in everyone’s thinking with regards to who belongs to the ‘majority’ and who belongs to the ‘minority.’ As Christians, Muslims, Jews, and other people of faith, those of us who simply want to be loving human beings and who desire to harness our love for the building of peace, we are the ‘majority’ and we need to become more vocal. But let’s be honest, it is easier to make great rhetorical speeches about love than to actually practice it, particularly towards those who do not share our political, economic and religious opinions, let alone those who physically harm us and are objectively our enemies. This is not going to happen simply by following a code of ethic, whether human or religious.

But in the person of Jesus we have far more than a moralizing teacher on love. I am not speaking about ‘Christianity’ here, but about the person of Jesus, who is shared by both Christians and Muslims, and some would argue also by Jews and other people of faith. Jesus manifested the height of God’s love for us while we were still God’s ‘enemies.’ As the apostle Paul puts it: ‘But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us’ (Romans 5:8 [NIV]). And rather importantly in my mind, the fact that Jesus was killed was hardly incidental. His willingness to lay down his life through death was flatly the culmination of his willingness to lay down his life through his life as well. He lived entirely for others, including for God’s enemies, and he died entirely for others as well, including God’s enemies, which includes us. As people of faith, if we want to get anywhere with our good intentions to love others, then certainly we have a great example to follow in the person of Jesus.

As Middle East Christians, we say to the world: This is a battle between people who love God and people who hate him! Stop arming anyone, whether those you consider your enemies or those you consider your friends! If you want to support us, then support us in our mission of educating, developing communities, building states of accountability and transparency, fighting systemic corruption, and building civil societies!

Trying to make sense of Gaza

By Colin Chapman*

If there’s been a cease-fire by the time this article appears, none of the underlying issues will have been resolved. Here then is a brief attempt to analyse what this recent outbreak of fighting between Israel and Gaza has been about – with four clues which help me to make sense of the big picture.

1. Most Palestinians in Gaza today are the children or grandchildren of Palestinian Arabs who were expelled from their homes in the Nakba in 1948.

Benny Morris was one of the first of the new revisionist Israeli historians who documented the process by which around 750,000 Palestinians were expelled from their homes in the months before and after the creation of the state of Israel in May 1948. In his book The Birth of the Palestinian Refugee Problem, 1947-1949 (1988) he debunked the myth that they had fled because their leaders encouraged them to do so, and described how some went to Gaza, while others moved to Egypt, the West Bank, Syria and Lebanon. Some years later he shocked many when he said in an interview with Haaretz that Israel would not have so many problems today if it had done the job more thoroughly and expelled far more Palestinians from the area of the new state of Israel. Another Israeli historian, Ilan Pappé, who is now a professor at the College of Social Sciences and International Studies at Exeter University, used similar material to describe in great detail how the expulsions were carried out all over the country with the aim of reducing as far as possible the number of Arabs who would remain within the state of Israel, and he wasn’t afraid to give his book the title The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine (2006). Israel’s treatment of the Palestinians during this crucial period before and after the establishment of the state has been called ‘Israel’s original sin’. The relevant point in this context is that the rockets that Palestinians have been firing from Gaza have been landing on areas from which their parents and grandparents were driven out in 1948.

Rami Khoury, a Palestinian-Jordanian journalist, makes this point powerfully in an article which appeared in The Daily Star in Beirut on Saturday 26 July:

Grasping and resolving these root issues is very hard to do for Zionists and Israelis, who refuse to acknowledge their major role in making refugees of the Palestinians. They have also ignored that no peace will come to anyone unless the root causes of the 1947-49 conflict are resolved equitably. If Israelis do not see this in the eyes, tunnels, rockets and charred bodies of dead Palestinian infants, and continue, with the U.S., to insist on prioritizing Israeli security over a more balanced approach to ensuring rights for both peoples, then these savage rounds of violence will persist for years. That would only be adding stupidity to savagery.

2. ‘It’s the blockade and the occupation, stupid!’

No one can deny Israel’s right to self-defence, subject to the test of proportionality, and it’s understandable that Israel should want to force Hamas to stop firing rockets indiscriminatingly into Israel. Hamas could have stopped firing the rockets as soon as the casualties began to mount and the international community called for a cease-fire. But Gaza has been described as the largest open-air prison in the world, and the rockets (which have so far killed only three civilians in Israel) have been an expression of the desperation of the Palestinians over the eight-year economic blockade imposed by Israel after Hamas seized power in 2006. Israel is clearly determined to destroy Hamas’s arsenal of weapons and the network of tunnels penetrating into Israel. But the Hamas leadership believes that it can’t afford to agree to a cease-fire without securing concessions from Israel which relieve the humanitarian crisis developing inside Gaza. The appalling numbers of civilian casualties, therefore, and the destruction of so much property are seen as a price that must be paid in order to force Israel to bow to international pressure and end its crippling blockade. Palestinians in Gaza feel that if they don’t die under the rockets, they will be strangled to death by the blockade.

Before the blockade, of course, was the occupation. In June 1967 Israel occupied the West Bank, the Golan Heights, Sinai and the Gaza Strip, where they eventually built 20 settlements on 20% of the area. It was in this context of occupation around 1988 that Hamas came into existence as a resistance movement. Most of the world believes that Israel’s occupation of the West Bank since 1967 is illegal in international law and that every single settlement in the occupied territories is illegal. Under Ariel Sharon’s leadership Israel withdrew completely from Gaza in 2005, but in international law it still has all the responsibilities of the occupying power. The rationale for the withdrawal was explained in these terms by Dov Weissglass, one of Sharon’s advisers: ‘The significance of the disengagement plan is the freezing of the peace process … And when you freeze that process, you prevent the establishment of a Palestinian state, and you prevent a discussion on the refugees, the borders and Jerusalem.’ It now seems that even the American administration has concluded that the so-called peace-process pursued so vigorously by John Kerry for the past nine months has broken down largely because of Israel’s refusal to stop the building of new settlements on the West Bank. Hamas’s rockets, therefore, seem to be their only way of expressing the anger and desperation of Palestinians over the blockade and the occupation.

Avi Shlaim, emeritus professor of International Relations at Oxford University makes these points in an article entitled ‘What’s the use of “balance” in such an asymmetric war?’ in The Independent on Sunday of 27 July:

It is difficult to resist the conclusion that Israel’s real objective in unleashing this offensive is to bomb Hamas into a humiliating surrender. Israel’s ultimate aim seems to be not just a peace but the re-imposition of the status quo with a fragmented Palestine and with itself as an imperial overlord.

3. The Israel-Palestinian conflict is a conflict of two nationalisms, with two peoples claiming the same piece of land for different reasons.

Theodore Herzl spelled out his vision of political Zionism in his book The Jewish State in 1896, and the following year he convened the First Zionist Congress in Basel. Having concluded that the emancipation of Jews in Europe in the nineteenth century had failed, he believed that the only way for them to feel secure in the modern world was for them to return to their ancestral homeland in Palestine and create some new kind of Jewish polity there. At the time when he wrote the book, Jews were no more than 8% of the total population of Palestine. The remaining 92% of the population – Palestinian Arabs – were aware of nationalist movements in Europe and were beginning to develop their own dreams of Arab nationalism and independence from Ottoman rule. One of the ironies of history, therefore, is that Jewish nationalism (Zionism) had the effect of stimulating Arab nationalism. Jews have been basing their claim to the land and to sovereignty on their occupation of the land in biblical times. Palestinians base their claim on the fact their ancestors have been living in the land since – and even before – the Arab conquest in the 7th century. So one of the fundamental roots of the conflict is this clash of nationalisms.

Palestinians today need somehow to understand that European anti-semitism, which culminated in the Holocaust, created the longing for a homeland in which Jews could feel safe and secure. By the same token, Jews in Israel and elsewhere need to understand that Jewish nationalism and Arab (and especially Palestinian) nationalism have developed side by side during the last century, and that the biblical understanding of justice is that we should seek for our neighbours what we seek for ourselves. The relevance of this point to the present conflict is made by Rami Khoury:

The fundamental problem for Israel that it has never grasped is that the intensity of the individual and collective Palestinian will to resist permanent exile or oblivion, and to keep fighting for national reconstitution and justice, is just as strong as the will among Jews who fought Western Christian anti-Semitism for centuries and finally created their Zionist state in Palestine.

4. For all its failings and crimes, Hamas has been a consistent expression of Palestinian nationalism and anger.

I could never be an apologist for Hamas, because I’m only too aware of its hard-line Islamist ideology, its brutal suppression of opposition and its violent attacks on Israeli citizens. I doubt if it is as innocent as it claims over the location of its rocket launchers, and the tunnels under the northern border fence into Israel are intended for launching attacks on Israel. At the same time I believe that much of the criticism directed against it has been unfair and unjustified.

It came into existence as a resistance movement in the context of Israeli occupation. So if there had been no occupation beginning in 1967, there might be no Hamas – just as there might be no Hizbullah in Lebanon if Israel had not invaded in 1982 and stayed as occupiers for so many years in the south of the country. Hamas strongly asserted its Islamic identity over Fatah, which was felt to have become too secular; and it took a stronger stance against Israel because it believed that Fatah had already made too many concessions in negotiations with Israel. It is argued by some that in the early years Hamas was actually encouraged and supported by Israel as a way of dividing the Palestinian resistance. Hamas won in democratic elections in Gaza and the West Bank in 2006, and many believe that the US and the EU made a disastrous mistake in refusing to recognize this victory and to work with Hamas. Western governments are therefore accused of hypocrisy for saying that they support the spread of democracy in the region but then refusing to accept the results of democratic elections.

While Hamas has maintained its Islamist stance, it’s thoroughly misleading to say that Palestinian enmity towards Israel is motivated primarily by Islam. Palestinian Muslims are bound to turn to their religion to find motivation in their struggle. But the root cause of the conflict is dispossession rather than religion. Hamas has often showed that its ideology can be modified by its pragmatism, and has at many stages indicated its willingness to negotiate with Israel. If Israel continues to label Hamas a ‘terrorist organisation’, isn’t this a case of the pot calling the kettle black? There was plenty of terrorism directed against the British Mandate and Palestinians in the decades leading up to the establishment of the state of Israel, and how many of Israel’s previous prime ministers were engaged in terrorist activities in their earlier years? A state can engage in terrorism just as much as a resistance movement.

If some Palestinians have not been supporters of Hamas and blamed it for the escalation of the fighting in the last two weeks, the ferocity of Israeli attacks on Gaza has probably had the effect of rallying widespread support for Hamas and its demands. One of the lessons of the Northern Ireland peace process was that there was no significant breakthrough until all parties – including those regarded as being extreme – were brought into the political process.

It’s easy to criticize and condemn Hamas for the way it has engaged in its resistance. But don’t the Palestinians have good reason to be angry both about the blockade and the continuing occupation? And isn’t it time for the world to try to understand the roots of this conflict and try to resolve it in a more even-handed way?

As we watch this terrible tragedy unfold, therefore, we should be praying for all who, in the spirit of the Beatitudes, ‘hunger and thirst to see right prevail’ and seek to be peace-makers. At the same time, as well as lobbying our own government, there are things that we can do to support the people of Gaza through Christian organisations like the following that are working on the ground:

MEC 2012 - Day 1 (9)

Colin Chapman currently serves as Lead Faculty for the MENA Islam Module of IMES’s Master of Religion in Middle Eastern and North African Studies (MRel in MENA Studies) program. Chapman worked with CMS in the Middle East for 18 years and he previously taught Islamic Studies at the Near East School of Theology in Beirut. He has taught at Trinity College, Bristol, and was principal of Crowther Hall, the CMS training college in Selly Oak, Bristol. His books include: Christianity on Trial (Lion, 1971-73); The Case for Christianity (Lion, Tyndale, 1981); Whose Promised Land? The Continuing Crisis over Israel and Palestine (Lion and Baker, 2002); Cross and Crescent (IVP UK and USA, 1988 and 2007); Islam and the West: Conflict, Co-Existence or Conversion? (Paternoster, 1998); Whose Holy City? Jerusalem and the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict (Lion and Baker, 2004); and “Islamic Terrorism”: is there a Christian response? (Grove, 2005) 

*This post originally appeared on the website for Fulcrum: Renewing the Evangelical Center and is used with permission.