Book review and comments by Maynard
I’m jumping the gun here, being only a bit more than halfway through reading this book. And the book in question is not only not new; it’s not even currently in print. But it’s a timely topic, and the book can readily be acquired, and I’ve got something to say about it. So here goes.
The author Meyer Levin (see this short biography and also his Wikipedia entry) is probably best known for bringing Anne Frank’s Diary to light, and also for his novel, Compulsion, which dramatizes the sordid and fascinating tale of the real-life genius murderers, Leopold and Loeb.
I’m now reading another of his novels, The Settlers, written in 1972 and considered by some critics to be his best, a story of the Zionists that settled in Palestine in the years before the First World War. Although it’s not currently in print, used copies are readily available through Amazon for 1 cent and up.
I’m drawn to Levin’s books because he conveys a wonderfully clear window into whatever environment he portrays. He steps into controversial territory because he is driven, not by an agenda, but by a quest for understanding. This is not to say he’s non-judgmental, but he’s willing to let facts speak for themselves. In today’s stifling atmosphere of angry and heavy-handed politics, I appreciate Levin’s honest and authentic voice.
As a personal matter, I’d rather read a novel than non-fiction. Some of this is laziness: I find it harder to pick up details in a vacuum than when I’m following the exploits of an intriguing character. But I think there’s something to be said for fiction. The human drama is simply too complex to be rendered as a set of dry, isolated facts. I need to see the people as they live. Meyer Levin, as with all excellent authors, tells stories that ring very true, and conveys the big picture in a way that non-fiction cannot do.
I’ll criticize Levin in this small way: He crafts interesting characters, but they fall slightly short of being so charismatic that I can’t put the book down. So Levin may not quite number among the very greatest authors, but I’ll list him as at least near-great.
“The Settlers” tells the story of a large family, the Chaimovitches, that has come to Palestine around 1905 to escape the pogroms of Russia. At this time, Palestine was under control of the moribund Ottoman Empire (that is, the Turks). The growing Zionist organizations were collecting money and buying land and transporting immigrants and bribing officials and doing everything else to smooth the process of relocating Jews from hostile European lands. Many of the Zionists were young Marxists or Socialists who aspired to create an ideal society and regarded religion as an old superstition; others were traditional families that just wanted to make new lives for themselves. They came to a land that was sparsely populated and unproductive; as the settlers brought it to life, it also became increasingly attractive to regional Arabs, whose labor could be purchased cheaply.
Interestingly, the issue of anti-Semitism was not, at this point, a huge problem. Sure, nobody liked Jews, but then everybody was squabbling with everyone else, so adding more Jews to the mixture didn’t change things. The (corrupt) Turkish authorities maintained some semblance of order, and were mostly reasonable as long as the taxes and bribes were properly paid. You just had to be willing to work the system. Meanwhile, Jews and Arabs and Bedouins and Turks and everyone else could effectively do business with each other, and even form friendships and alliances.
Even though the system seemed workable, there were ominous indications of an inevitable clash of civilizations. I’ll give an example of an incident described in the book in which we can see parallels with the larger modern conflicts. Although this is a fictional story, I think it’s very likely that the incident actually took place as chronicled, and Levin simply incorporated it into his story.
It happened like this: The Jews would generally allow Arab goats to graze on the remaining stalks of their crops after the grain had been harvested. But one day, a Jewish boy tending the family field finds an Arab boy who has let his goats go into the grain. So the Jewish boy runs to chase the goats away, and the Arab boy tries to stop him. The boys start fighting and shouting, and others come running. The situation is starting to become a brawl. An Arab has drawn a knife, and the Jewish boy is wounded. A Jewish watchman, riding on a horse from the distance and carrying a rifle, fires at an approaching mounted Arab who he thinks is about to strike a Jew with a farm tool. The Arab’s horse is hit. The gunfire and the wounded horse have raised the stakes. The crowds disperse, but there is great tension.
Here we encounter a deadly aspect of the Arab culture, and this may be the major cultural impediment to peace in the region: The tradition of the blood feud, or “ghoum”. Once a perceived offence has been registered, the offended parties will return to lash out at anyone associated with their perceived offenders. It’s basically the moral equivalent of an ongoing cycle of lynching, like our own legendary Hatfields and McCoys.
The Jewish settlers were always alert to avoid giving the kind of offence that could lead to a blood feud, and they knew how to smooth over a potential flare-up. But this one has grown too quickly. They look for a mediator, ready to make practical amends. But before this can bear fruit, there is a raid. Three Jews are killed and most of the village cattle are taken. Now the governing Turks come and decide the Jews must be temporarily relocated to prevent further warfare. The Jews cannot refuse, but one man holds back, suspecting the Arabs will quickly come to loot the empty Jewish settlement. He sights the raiding party and shoots two of them from a hiding place in the distance, thus thwarting the raid. At this point, things settle down.
Time passes and tempers have cooled. The Jews return and peace is proclaimed. The Arabs and Jews hold a boisterous and sincere celebration, swearing eternal friendship. A new horse is presented to the Arabs to replace the animal that was shot. None of this may seem quite fair, in that the Jews are clearly getting the raw end of this deal, and innocent men have died. But sometimes we go the extra mile for peace.
You can see the fundamental cultural problem here. The readiness of the Arabs to assume the lynch-mob mentality means that any small incident can become a flashpoint for a much larger conflict. With a tinderbox like that, conflict is inevitable, because there will eventually come the fire that grows faster than it can be put out.
“The Settlers” is a sweeping book of about 900 pages, and this is only a small aspect of it. I speak of this detail because it’s relevant to today’s history. We’ve seen how a little Dutch newspaper can trigger a global conflict. It seems to me that the only way to avoid world war is to define our respective turfs in a way that everyone can agree upon. But is this even possible? Our local activities manage to give severe offence in distant lands. The wrong picture or word over here, and people die over there. What’s to be done about that?
Anyway, “The Settlers” is not a political diatribe, but rather a rich tale of the early Zionists. If you’re broadly curious about the Zionist movement in Ottoman Palestine, look for a copy.
