(Not) Genocide (Response to Omer Bartov)

Let’s start with point that is being mainly overlooked. Omer Bartov’s repeat opining in national media about Israel committing genocide in Gaza are many different things. First and foremost, they are the cri de cœur of an Israeli, an eminent researcher of the Holocaust. Bartov wants (he says so himself) is to see something better for his country, a future less traumatized and violent. He says this verbatim at the end of the most recent op-ed here at NYT, i.e. at the very point in the op-ed by which most readers will already have stopped reading, either because Bartov has confirmed their priors or has completely outraged them. But these lines are worth quoting in full because they tell us about this moment in the history of the Jews and the history of Israel. “Perhaps,” for Bartov, “the only light at the end of this very dark tunnel is the possibility that a new generation of Israelis will face their future without sheltering in the shadow of the Holocaust…Israel will have to learn to live without falling back on the Holocaust as justification for inhumanity. That, despite all the horrific suffering we are currently watching, is a valuable thing, and may, in the long run, help Israel face the future in a healthier, more rational and less fearful and violent manner.” Let’s note and leave aside the strange offhand comment and assert for ourselves that nothing about this carnage is “valuable thing” for anyone –Israeli and certainly not Palestinian. It is fair to say that Bartov’s interventions at the NYT and other media platforms express profound moral distress in the face of unprecedented destruction and death on October 7 and during Israel’s conduct of the war against Hamas in Gaza.

But, none of this has anything to do with genocide. Bartov, in this most recent opinion piece, one pocked by omissions, has not, in fact, made his own case that the destruction and death constitute the crime of genocide. Words like “goal” and “intent” are essential arguments about genocide in international law. The standard definition of genocide, determined  in 1948 by the United Nations, refers to a number of acts committed with intent to “destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, as such”  In a critical vein, Dirk Moses calls genocide “the crime of crimes.” The crime entails ascription of a special intent (dolus specialis), which for Moses is one of the problems of genocide as a conceptual term of art (The Problems of Genocide).

Is there special intent to commit genocide? In his review of the war some six months after October 7,2023,Bartov explains, “By May 2024, the Israel Defense Forces had ordered about one million Palestinians sheltering in Rafah — the southernmost and last remaining relatively undamaged city of the Gaza Strip — to move to the beach area of the Mawasi, where there was little to no shelter. The army then proceeded to destroy much of Rafah.” Bartov mentions in the next paragraph that these acts were “consistent” with “statements denoting genocidal intent made by Israeli leaders in the days after the Hamas attack.” As Bartov sees it, “I believe the goal was — and remains today — to force the population to leave the Strip altogether or, considering that it has nowhere to go, to debilitate the enclave…to such an extent that it is impossible for Palestinians in Gaza to maintain or reconstitute their existence as a group.” Or, he says, the intent of Israel’s war against Hamas is “[the Gaza] Strip’s destruction.”

Intent to do what? To commit what act and which crime? On one hand, claims regarding intent to force permanent, as opposed to tactical, population transfer as an act of state policy have yet to be proven. On the other hand, acts of complete destruction in Gaza and the enormous toll on civilian life might well constitute a clear, factual basis demonstrating intent to commit crimes of ethnic cleansing and other war crimes and crimes against humanity. But nowhere does Bartov commit himself to claiming that Israeli conduct in war demonstrates “intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, as such.” A close, critical reader will notice that the most Bartov can say after these long months since May 2024 and October 2023 is that alleged acts of ethnic cleansing and the reality of mass death and destruction “can morph into genocide” –meaning that they do not yet constitute genocide “as such,” according to the recognizable definition (emphasis added).

Voicing frustration with scholars in Holocaust Studies, Bartov insists that among Genocide scholars there is a growing consensus that Israel is committing that very crime in Gaza. He cites Uğur Ümit Üngör who quipped that “there are probably scholars who still do not think it’s genocide,” but who then said, “I don’t know them.” But clearly everyone in Genocide Studies knows Dirk Moses and his work. Bartov himself mentions Moses in passing, failing to indicate that Moses has already weighed in here about Gaza. In an essay from late 2023 after October 7 entitled “More than Genocide,” Moses already pulled back from calling Gaza a genocide for reasons unique to his own theoretical approach to the study of genocide, political violence and settler-colonialism [sic].

Moses argues that international law is so narrowly defined as to make it impossible to accuse any country of committing the crime of genocide. In his words, it is “extremely difficult” to “[prove] that individual Israelis have committed acts of genocide…given the parameters set by international law.” What Moses argues here and throughput his own scholarship concerns the way the modern nation state is inherently premised upon the violence committed in the name of “national security.” The right of self-defense, he argues, constitutes the pretext for committing the most heinous acts of violence against civilian populations. For Moses, the question of genocide as beside the point –not just because genocide is impossible to prosecute; also because the genocide convention has been overdetermined by the Holocaust; and “because successful analogies with the Holocaust are virtually impossible to make—especially by Palestinians against Israel, for which the Holocaust memory is a state project. For Moses, the problem of genocide is that the concept sets genocide apart as the “crime of crimes,” blinding us to “other types of humanly caused civilian death, like bombing cities and the ‘collateral damage’ of missile and drone strikes, blockades, and sanctions” that are “driven by the permanent security imperatives of states and political movements seeking to found states” at an “apocalyptic” juncture in history (The Problems of Genocide, pp.477, 511). (For a recent essay by Moses on the “problem of genocide,” see here, but it’s not about Gaza and more a concise precis of his own work; h/t Ben Wexler)

Where does this leave Bartov’s analysis at this current impasse? Bartov must surely know that “genocide,” if not beside point, works towards another point. Bartov himself knows that genocide is not a neutral description, understanding  that “Nations, politicians and military personnel suspected of, indicted on a charge of or found guilty of genocide are seen as beyond the pale of humanity and may compromise or lose their right to remain members of the international community.” In this light, there is no reason to cast doubt on the counterclaim –as Bartov doubts, vociferously– that “malign interests and sentiments” against Israel motivate much of the Israel-Genocide-Gaza echo machine on campus and across the general culture. If Bartov’s Jewish critics are furious with him, it is because of the mediated spectacle to which Bartov is contributing on the basis of his own authority as a student of the Holocaust, and an Israeli dissident.

For many, the Israel Genocide Gaza meme is an operation of pure malice; for others, “Genocide in Gaza” reflect deep distress and political outrage (In good faith, I believe Bartov stands in the latter camp). In my own small circle in academic Jewish Studies and online Jewish community, Bartov’s presence on the scene meets deeply felt needs of colleague and friends on the left in the face of real distress and rage about Israel and the rightwing in Israel. Yet, for all that, it has become painfully obvious after October 7 that people in the world wish real malice on both the State of Israel and Jewish people more generally. The genocide meme is fuel to the fire, the reality of permanent conflict, the failure of two national communities to come to terms with each other via negotiated agreements based on mutual recognition. The “Israel Genocide Gaza” meme affects the volatile place of real and figural Jews in the Digital Age when the violence of Israel and Palestine is traded in a currency of “value” far away from the people who suffer the violence in real life.

About zjb

Zachary Braiterman is Professor of Religion in the Department of Religion at Syracuse University. His specialization is modern Jewish thought and philosophical aesthetics. http://religion.syr.edu
This entry was posted in uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to (Not) Genocide (Response to Omer Bartov)

  1. The Dink says:

    Political Zionism, as implemented in the State of Israel, presents itself as the fulfillment of an ancient promise and the safeguard of Jewish survival, yet its ideological and material foundations collapse under both Jewish ethical tradition and secular international law. The claim that a biblical or ancient connection confers perpetual sovereign title ignores a core teaching of the prophets: that the land is conditional on justice, especially toward the stranger (גר), the widow, and the orphan. Ancestral memory does not grant a perpetual license to dispossess those who live there now. Modern sovereignty derives from the consent of the governed and equal citizenship, not from ethnonational lineage—an axiom recognized by international law, which rejects conquest or ancient claims as grounds for contemporary statehood.

    The assertion that only a Jewish nation-state can secure Jewish safety and flourishing likewise falters when examined through Jewish ethics and universal rights. The Torah’s repeated injunction not to oppress the stranger, rooted in the Jewish experience of exile, demands that safety be sought without reproducing the structural domination we have historically suffered. Secular principles of self-determination affirm the rights of all peoples; if one group’s safety depends on the displacement and disenfranchisement of another—as occurred during the Nakba and in ongoing dispossession—this is not self-determination but domination. Historical narratives that depict 1948 as voluntary Arab flight or solely the product of war omit the documented reality of depopulated villages, confiscated property, and the deliberate denial of return to refugees. Jewish ethics require teshuvah—truth-telling, acknowledgment, and repair—while international norms demand restitution and non-discriminatory citizenship.

    Israel’s self-description as “the only democracy in the Middle East” rings hollow when millions under its effective control are denied equal rights, freedom of movement, due process, and the franchise. Jewish theology teaches that all humans bear the image of God (tzelem Elohim), making ethnically tiered democracy a moral contradiction. Likewise, the perpetual invocation of security threats as justification for exceptional measures cannot erase the universal scope of pikuach nefesh—the obligation to preserve life beyond one’s own group. Under both Jewish law and international humanitarian law, collective punishment, indefinite siege, and disproportionate force are prohibited.

    Nor can the Holocaust, however catastrophic, serve as a permanent political warrant for ethnonational supremacy in the land. The imperative to remember (zachor) is a command to prevent the repetition of exclusionary systems, not to invert their direction against others. Historical persecution does not create a moral or legal right to dispossess contemporaneous inhabitants; security must be built through equality before the law, shared sovereignty, and enforceable rights protections. Even claims of Jewish indigeneity cannot erase the continuous presence and parallel indigeneity of Palestinian Arabs. In both Jewish prophetic vision and secular democratic theory, return without justice is merely another form of exile.

    The only sustainable horizon is a shift from supremacy to equality—constitutional protections for all communities, restitution and return mechanisms, shared stewardship of sacred spaces, and demilitarized security arrangements. Far from undermining Jewish survival, such a framework would honor the deepest strands of our own tradition and align with the universal principles of dignity and justice. Jewish ethics are not an obstacle to this future; they are its strongest foundation.

Leave a Reply