The Clash of Darkness and Light : Hebron: Religious extremists identify with divine power in annihilating the forces of chaos--the dehumanized ‘other.’

The massacre in Hebron is completely understandable, even reasonable--if you live in an insane world. The murderer, a radical follower of Rabbi Meir Kahane (who himself fell victim to a religious extremist) lived in that kind of world. So did many of his victims.

One could never understand this from the entirely predictable public reactions to the massacre. The Israeli government condemned it in the strongest possible terms. Some commentators have tried to shift responsibility to the Muslim extremists whose murder of Jews supposedly drove Baruch Goldstein out of his mind. Such attempts to mitigate the evil done were in turn condemned. Others condemned once again the mutual “demonizing” that colors Arab-Israeli relations.

All of this misses the point. That a religious person--a doctor, no less--could go into one of his own religion’s holiest sites and mow down dozens of worshipers of another faith is a phenomenon that cannot be explained in normal political terms. It is violence that literally is not of this world--religious violence.

Religious violence is a form of sacrificial offering, a destructive action with emotionally charged symbolism. It seldom has, and never needs, a reasonable political purpose or well-defined goal. It is quite likely that the murderer himself would not have been able to say what his actions would mean--except that they would lead to more violence. What was important for him was precisely and solely the demonstration of destructive power. Because it was, in his eyes, the power of the Lord being demonstrated.

That the massacre took place on holy ground is entirely consistent with the symbolism of religious violence. That it took place on a day that was both the beginning of Ramadan (the holiest time of year for Muslims) and Purim (when Jews read in the Book of Esther of the planned destruction of the Jews of Persia, and of their counterattack) even gives the massacre a perverse elegance.

The charged symbolism reflects in turn the most terrifying aspect of religious violence, the conviction that one is engaged in a cosmic conflict. In an apocalyptic war between the “sons of light and the sons of darkness” (as it is described in the Dead Sea Scrolls) there is no room for compromise. In fact, there is no one with whom one could compromise. The “other” is outside the realm of the human, a mere symbol of the forces of chaos, a ritual object in the great, dramatic demonstration of divine power. His role is to be destroyed.

In this context, all objections concerning the (for us, absolutely clear) immorality of the massacre are useless. The murderer is beyond good and evil in his own eyes--and, thus, in the eyes of the Lord.

To criticize the religious extremists’ view of the “other” as demonizing is misdirected. Such criticism implies that if only both sides understood one another better, they would be able to act in a reasonable, humane manner. In a religious war, the opposite is the case: The more one knows about the “other,” the clearer it becomes that he truly is the tool of chaos--the more, in other words, he becomes the “other,” a true demon, thus an object for extermination.

It is this mutual “insight” in place of mutual understanding that aggravates the situation.

Among Palestinians, the most common reaction to the massacre in the mosque has been, “They say they want peace, and then they go and do this!”

“They?” How could one possibly interpret the crime of Baruch Goldstein as a collective Israeli act?

The answer: psychological projection. The Muslims see the massacre as a collective Israeli/Jewish act precisely because that is how they would interpret it if the ethnic affiliation of murderer and victim had been reversed. It is not the massacre itself that they condemn (as the Western standard would condemn any massacre), but rather the fact that a Jew committed it and Muslims were his victims when it should have been the other way around. This is not to shift the blame from the criminal to the victim. But it does underscore a tragic difference in perspective that is dominant in the Middle East.

This categorizing of moral and immoral massacres is, of course, anathema in Western moral thought. The frightening fact is, however, that Western moral thought has nothing to do with it. For both Jewish and Muslim extremists, the only thing that can solve their problems is the Lord’s destructive power. Symbolic (if still tragically real) violence is used to express this and to evoke it. It allows the extremist the possibility of complete identification with the cosmic order, in which he, carrying out divine will, annihilates the forces of chaos. His life means nothing in this context, his victims’ lives even less.

Many ask if the peace process is going to continue. The answer is obvious. If it doesn’t, one can only expect more of the same. There are enough people on both sides who wish to avoid that.

But how hopeful should one be? While political and economic steps could conceivably weaken the driving force of religious extremism, it would be dangerously naive to believe that they could entirely counteract an ideological constellation that belongs to another--insane--world.

That there is, objectively speaking, a huge difference in proportions--Jewish extremists constitute a small and despised minority, while their Muslim counterparts enjoy considerable popular support--is of lesser significance. We have, after all, just seen the horrible damage that a lone individual can cause.

The massacre was an expression of a serious religious problem, which must receive a religious solution. Unfortunately, that is, under present circumstances, wishful thinking.