This fall and winter have seen many of us here in Israel consuming a miserable kind of reality TV: blurry clips of young Palestinian Muslims with knives seeking release in murder and martyrdom, lunging, stabbing, falling stricken to the ground, the action captured by cellphones or security cameras; an imam in Gaza waving a knife and calling on the faithful to render us into “body parts”; a fighter from the Islamic State, our new neighbor, warning us of the violence he and his comrades will inflict when they arrive. The effect was so disturbing that it triggered psychological stress akin to that of a real war, though the fatalities barely added up to a skirmish. No land was conquered or lost, no concessions demanded. With our computers and cellphones, as the director of military intelligence put it, “We’re all brainwashing ourselves.” The battlefield had moved almost entirely inside our own minds.
In the past month or two it has been more apparent than ever that the confluence of unfiltered information, dramatic images of bloodshed, and fanatical interpretations of Islam have converged to become one of the key forces shaping our lives. That makes it worth looking for the moment this force began to make itself felt in earnest. My selection, a subjective one based on my personal experience, can be found on the front page of the Israeli daily Maariv of Oct. 31, 1994.
Two possible futures appear on this page in the form of two stories. The day’s main headline tells us that Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin is in Morocco, where he met with King Hassan. Israel’s peace treaty with Jordan is a few days old. The photo shows a warm handshake between the prime minister and the king, two men of similar age, and the headline quotes the Israeli leader: “Peace is a house, and the economy will furnish it.” This was what was known at the time as the “new Middle East,” the title of an optimistic book published by Shimon Peres a year earlier, which envisioned a peaceful region where new highways moved citizens of Palestine to shop in Israel and Israeli tourists to the souks of Damascus, past old tanks rusting at the side of the road. Next to the photo of the handshake is an analysis piece titled, “A Bank, Not a Tank.”