The Article on Zionism the Editors of the the Palgrave Encyclopedia of Imperialism and Anti-Imperialism Threw out (Without Notifying the Author)

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The Article on Zionism the Editors of the The Palgrave Encyclopedia of Imperialism and Anti-Imperialism threw out (without notifying the author)

On 4 February 2013 I received an email from Saër Maty Bâ, inviting me to contribute an article of 3,000 to 4,000 words on Zionism to the forthcoming Palgrave Encyclopedia of Imperialism and Anti-Imperialism, which I readily accepted. Due to a confluence of difficult personal circumstances, I subsequently fell fowl of the initial deadline. Having been informed that mine was ‘a crucial essay’ and sent emphatic reminder emails on 24 November and 16 December 2013 and twice on 3 January 2014, I finally submitted my article on 6 January. ‘I must thank you so much for this contribution on Zionism,’ Immanuel Ness responded on the same day, ‘I just read it and consider it an excellent account!’ That was the last I heard from the editors. Once in a while I checked online whether the publication of the encyclopedia was moving closer. When it became clear that it really would be coming out this autumn I thought I’d better contact the editors, given that I’d been led to believe there would be proofs to correct. When I contacted Ness on 4 September, he responded the following day to inform me that ‘the project direction focused on Third World issues’ and my essay ‘was sadly not included’. Apparently embarrassed, he not only offered to pay me a fee out of his own pocket but also pointed out that his mother, due to whose death he claimed to have been somewhat distracted from the project, was an Auschwitz survivor. Now, the editors are, of course, entirely within their rights to reject my submission if they feel they have cause to do so. Surely, though, one would ordinarily expect them to contact me, explain their misgivings, and request changes first. Instead, the editors could not even be bothered to inform me of the fact that they had thrown out my article. Evidently, the Palgrave Encyclopedia of Imperialism and Anti-Imperialism has now come out. I am in no position to acquire such an expensive resource and it will be a while until I can access it in a library. Consequently, I can make inferences based only on the index which Palgrave has made available online. It would seem that there is indeed no entry for Zionism in the encyclopedia. The index entries for Zionism indicate that it is treated in the context of lengthy discussions of Palestine and the Negev Bedouin. Other entries place it on the same pages as references to U.S. imperialism, apartheid, Black September, racism, displacement, dispossession, accumulation by dispossession, grabs, and musical intifada. These, to be sure, were not the core concerns I discussed in my article. This does not yet explain, though, why the concerns I raised should not also be discussed in the encyclopedia, let alone, why the editors chose simply to throw out my contribution without any further discussion, indeed without even informing me of the fact that they had done so. One can only hope that this is not characteristic of the editors’ respect for academic integrity more generally.

Zionism Zionism was one of the forms of Jewish nationalism that emerged in Europe, alongside its various non-Jewish counterparts, in the latter part of the nineteenth century. How best to assess its meaning and significance after the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948 is a moot point. On the one hand, the World Zionist Organization, originally established at its first congress in 1897 in Basle with Theodor Herzl at its helm, continues to exist. According to its website, it remains ‘committed to promoting the Zionist idea and the Zionist enterprise as vital and positive elements of contemporary Jewish life’, and it collaborates closely with the Israeli government, especially in matters of immigration (‘aliyah’, lit. to go up). On the other hand, the term Zionist is generally used, especially by critics, as a blanket term denoting a broad range of issues from Israeli national identity, constitutional arrangements, and security interests to cultural activity or indeed anything to come out of or likely to benefit Israel, in other words, in many instances where the term Israeli would arguably be appropriate. Writing just prior to the Oslo process, the Israeli philosopher, intellectual historian, and committed Zionist, Nathan Rotenstreich (1914–1993), stated that ‘there is no Zionist ideology today’. He suggested that ‘the existence of the State of Israel can explain the disappearance of the Zionist ideology insofar as any realization of a broad social-political goal may make the guiding ideology obsolete’ (Rotenstreich 2007 115). His contention drew on the assumption that the function of Zionism was ultimately to establish ‘a common Jewish reality’ between Jews in Israel and the diaspora. Zionism was not so much about the State of Israel itself but primarily about the relationship between Israeli and diaspora Jews. ‘Independence,’ Rotenstreich wrote, ‘becomes coterminous with the Jewish common reality’ (Rotenstreich 2007 121). The establishment of the State of Israel had created a ‘Jewish collective existence in the public realm’ (Rotenstreich 2007 82) yet the same obviously did not hold true of Jews in the diaspora. It remained the task of Zionism to create ‘a plausible continuity between the life of individuals and the life of the collectivity’ (Rotenstreich 2007 97) under these new circumstances. Yet Zionism ‘did not address itself to this issue’ after 2 1948, Rotenstreich criticized. Instead, its ‘ideological approach founded in self- examination’ had been ‘replaced by a continuous attempt to safeguard support for the State of Israel’, i.e., identification with Israel ‘as exemplifying the unity of the Jewish people and making it symbolically manifest’ had displaced the quest for an actual common reality (Rotenstreich 2007 122). It is not without irony (though hardly surprising) that more than a century ago Zionism’s harshest critics initially came from within the Jewish community itself, not least because it took some time before non-Jews became aware of Zionism as an issue worthy of serious consideration. To more traditional and more acculturated Jews alike Zionism seemed a perverse proposition. The return to Palestine had traditionally been expected as part of the messianic age and was thus considered a matter of divine providence. To bring about this return by human initiative was a blatant violation of the tradition and some fundamentalist Jews consequently denounce the existence of the State of Israel to this day, sometimes in the company of very strange bed fellows (such as the Iranian regime). Many more acculturated Jews, on the other hand, had begun to consider their increasing integration into society as an indication of progress in general that signified the coming of the messianic age, albeit in a metaphorical rather than literal sense, and thus abandoned the idea of a return to Palestine which in any case had the potential to nurture non-Jewish concerns about split Jewish loyalties. Non-Jewish Socialists within and beyond the Second International were not far behind and soon discovered Zionism as the example for an anachronistic fixation on nationalist concerns. In so doing they almost inevitably took issue with the mote in the Zionists’ eyes while showing precious little concern for the beam in their own and their compatriots’ eyes. A century on, anti-Zionism has become a rallying cry with the rare ability to unite anti-imperialists of various stripes across the political spectrum in the West, and effectively a state doctrine in much of the Arab world that cuts across various other stark and often violently antagonistic differences. This article focuses on the ideological diversity of Zionism as a historical phenomenon and the question of how Zionism can best be understood in relation to colonialism and imperialism.

3 ZIONISM AND JEWISH NATIONALISM

In an era in which national belonging and the authenticity of national identity were widely prized as arguably the foremost features constituting individuals’ identities, Jewish nationalism was predicated on the notion that Jews would become like all other groups, not by submerging into the nationalities among whom they lived, but by constituting themselves as a distinct nationality on an equal footing with these other nationalities. In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, the dominant form of Jewish nationalism was that of autonomism (also referred to as diaspora nationalism), inspired not least by concepts developed by Austro Marxists in grappling with nationality issues within the Austro-Hungarian Empire. The classic formulation of this programme is generally associated with the Russian Jewish historian Simon Dubnow (1860–1941). ‘Jewish nationality,’ Dubnow argued in 1901,

cannot strive for territorial or political isolation, but only for social and cultural autonomy … old Jewry sacrificed its civic rights for its national rights, and new Jewry its national rights for its political or civic rights. The period of autonomy now approaching does not tend to either of these two extremes of the previous epochs (Dubnow 1901 418–419).

The Bund, the Algemeyner Yidisher Arbeter Bund in Lite, Poyln, un Rusland (The General Union of Jewish Workers in Lithuania, Poland, and Russia), established in 1897 and for at least a decade by far and away the largest Jewish political movement in Eastern Europe (and indeed the largest Socialist party in the Russian Empire), officially enshrined autonomism in its programme in 1905 and diaspora nationalism remained influential until the destruction of East European Jewry during the Shoah Zionism and Territorialism, by contrast, argued that Jewry needed a territory of its own within which to develop its national life. The Territorialists, who seceded from the Zionist movement and were organized after 1905 by Israel Zangwill (1864–1926) in the Jewish Territorial Organization (ITO), suggested that any suitable territory (e.g. in Africa or South America) could serve this purpose while the Zionists, after some initial debate, insisted that only Palestine could truly function as a Jewish homeland.

4 ZIONIST IDEOLOGY

As is the case with most ideologies/ideologically motivated movements, Zionism’s precise meaning and purpose, and the means best suited to its implementation, were interpreted in diverse ways by, and often contested among, its proponents. To be sure, all Zionists subscribed to the general goal of achieving a regeneration of the Jewish people as a nation centred on some form of concentrated Jewish settlement in Palestine. Yet when it came to determining what form this settlement might take, how (and with whose support) it might best be achieved, what exactly the nature of the desired regeneration should be, what form relations to the non-Jewish population of Palestine should take, what, if any, future Jews had in the diaspora etc. Zionists formulated a broad range of positions, many of them mutually attenuating if not contradictory. Readers unfamiliar with this field will find that Anita Shapira’s short discussion of Herzl, Ahad Ha’am, and Berdichesky offers a convenient introduction (Shapira 1990). Three crucial juxtapositions stand out: firstly, that between political and practical Zionism; secondly, that between political Zionism (in a slightly different meaning) and cultural Zionism; and thirdly, the issue of continuity and discontinuity. To what extent, to begin with the latter, did Zionism represent a continuation or rediscovery of Jewish tradition regarding a Jewish return to Palestine? This is a debate well rehearsed in Gershom Scholem’s comments on the ‘dialectic of continuity and rebellion’ (Scholem 1974). Zionism clearly broke with Jewish tradition in significant ways. It is now easily forgotten, and may be news altogether for readers who are not at least in their forties, that mainstream Zionism and the State of Israel itself for the first three decades of its existence were emphatically secular in their orientation and dominated by the labour movement. This is not to say that Zionism was not also supported by religious groups who considered the establishment of a Jewish homeland in Palestine the best or only means of ensuring that religious observance could be maintained, but these wielded little authority until the second half of the 1970s. The deeply disturbing justification of the existence of the State of Israel based on religious fundamentalism that has emerged as a significant phenomenon in recent decades marks a crucial departure from the original programme of mainstream Zionism. The distinction between political and practical Zionism concerned the question of how Zionism was most likely to achieve its goal. In this juxtaposition, the political Zionists, initially led by Herzl, argued that the movement should focus primarily on 5 political and diplomatic initiatives designed to persuade the relevant international powers to grant, recognize and (if necessary) help protect a Jewish homeland in Palestine. In his programmatic The Jewish State (Der Judenstaat, published in Vienna and Leipzig in 1896), Herzl presented his case, drawing on an eclectic collection of both traditional and original arguments, with boisterous optimism and what was presumably a considerable measure of hyperbole. Herzl, as Funkenstein has suggested, was manoeuvring ‘at a time when theatrics was just as important as actual power’ and when acting ‘as if’ could have considerable impact (Funkenstein 1993 234). ‘The world needs the Jewish State,’ Herzl declared, ‘therefore it will arise’ (Herzl 1896 206). For Herzl the emergence of modern antisemitism formed a crucial point of departure. As he explained, modern antisemitism was ‘not to be confused with the persecution of the Jews in former times, though it does still have a religious aspect in some countries.’ Rather, ‘in the principal centres of antisemitism, it is an outgrowth of the emancipation of the Jews’ (Herzl 1896 218). As he saw it, ‘the equal right of Jews before the law cannot be rescinded where they have once been granted. Not only because their recision would be contrary to the spirit of our age, but also because it would immediately drive all Jews, rich and poor alike, into the ranks of the revolutionary parties’ (Herzl 1896 218–219). Consequently, ‘no serious harm can really be done us’. It was ‘the very impossibility of getting at the Jews,’ he reasoned, that ‘nourishes and deepens hatred of them’ and it was ‘impossible to escape this vicious circle’ (Herzl 1896 219). If the Jews now formed one people, Herzl argued, it was because ‘our enemies have made us one whether we will or not’. The Jews were ‘strong enough to form a State, and, indeed, a model State.’ They should therefore be granted sovereignty over ‘a portion of the globe adequate to meet our rightful national requirements’ (Herzl 1896 220). Herzl was clearly formulating a staunchly political form of Zionism. He expressly referred to ‘the mistaken principle of gradual infiltration of Jews’, adding that piecemeal immigration was ‘futile unless it is based on our guaranteed autonomy’ (Herzl 1896 222). In a manner reminiscent of the mercantilist arguments presented for the toleration of Jews prior to their emancipation, Herzl suggested that ‘if His Majesty the Sultan were to give us Palestine, we could in return undertake the complete management of the Ottoman finances.’ He also introduced the idea that a Jewish

6 homeland in Palestine might ‘form a part of a wall of defence for Europe in Asia, an outpost of civilization against barbarism’ (Herzl 1896 222). Herzl’s Zionism was just as distinctly a post-enlightenment project as modern antisemitism was a distinct post-emancipation phenomenon, even though Herzl was hardly consumed by nationalist romanticism or mysticism and his approach was predominantly pragmatic in nature. He stated in no uncertain terms that ‘universal brotherhood is not even a beautiful dream. Conflict is essential to man’s highest efforts’ (Herzl 1896 223). Those who sought to resolve the so-called Jewish Question along universalist lines were ‘softhearted visionaries’ articulating ‘sentimental drivel’ (Herzl 1896 219). The productivization discourse that had featured so prominently throughout the debates on Jewish emancipation, i.e., the notion that Jews needed to be improved by engaging in supposedly productive activities (preferably working the land and with their hands) as opposed to the unproductive ones with which they were traditionally associated (principally peddling and usury), here became increasingly enmeshed with the discourse on (racial) degeneracy so popular from the second half of the nineteenth century onwards. ‘Herzl’s theoretical language’, as Funkenstein has put it, ‘is first and foremost the incredibly unsophisticated language of social Darwinism’ (Funkenstein 1993 233) This found a particularly well known expression in Max Nordau’s propagation of muscular Judaism, i.e., the ideal type of a physically fit and strong Jew who would displace the stereotypical puny ghetto Jew. Herzl suggested that ‘the governments of all countries scourged by antisemitism will be keenly interested in obtaining sovereignty for us’ (Herzl 1896 220); so much so that, ‘once we begin to execute the plan, antisemitism will cease at once and everywhere. For it is the conclusion of peace.’ Indeed, ‘immediate relief will ensue’ (Herzl 1896 225). The practical Zionists, stronger in Eastern Europe where proto-Zionist initiatives had propagated and organized Jewish emigration to Palestine since 1882, by contrast, argued that the movement’s goal was best served by creating practical facts on the ground through sustained Jewish immigration to Palestine and the creation of a suitable infrastructure there. It was this distinction that the concept of Gegenwartsarbeit (work in the present) was designed to overcome, creating what is generally referred to as synthetic Zionism, a combination of political and practical Zionism associated with the rise of Chaim Weizmann (1874–1952) in the leadership of the movement.

7 The distinction between political and cultural Zionism ultimately concerned the question of whether Zionism’s goal was above all to secure a nation state like all others for (the) Jews or whether Jewish settlement in Palestine served a more profound purpose for Jews in Palestine and the diaspora alike and should take whatever form was best suited to this purpose. Political Zionism found its crudest expression in the form of Zionist Revisionism, a strand within the movement under the leadership of Vladimir (Ze’ev) Jabotinsky (1880–1960) that finally seceded from it entirely in 1935. While Revisionist claims to have been more prescient and pro-active in the face of the Shoah represent no more than wishful thinking, there can be little doubt that desperation in the face of the genocide against European Jewry and the refugee crisis that unfolded after the liberation of the camps and was aggravated by the wave of post-war pogroms in Eastern Europe strengthened the Revisionist position and those forces seeking open military confrontation to drive the British out of Palestine. The Likud ascendancy in Israel after 1977 can be seen not least as the late victory of Zionist Revisionism over the labour movement’s previous dominance in mainstream Zionism. The concept of cultural Zionism was given its classic formulation by Ahad Ha’am (i.e. Asher Ginsberg, 1856–1927, who took the pen name Ahad Ha’am, Hebrew for ‘one of the people’). He insisted that even after the Zionist project’s realization ‘the greater part of our people will remain scattered on foreign soils’. In short, ‘the material problem will not be ended by the establishment of a Jewish State, and it is, indeed, beyond our power to solve it once and for all.’ Consequently, ‘the real and only basis of Zionism’ had to lie somewhere else (Ha’am 1897 264). For Ahad Ha’am the crucial question was that of the continuity of Jewish culture. Given that ‘in our time culture expresses itself everywhere through the form of the national spirit,’ Jewish culture could no longer ‘develop its individuality in its own way’ in the diaspora. What was needed was by no means an independent Jewish state, ‘but only the creation in its native land of conditions favourable to its development: a good-sized settlement of Jews working without hindrance in every branch of civilization, from agriculture and handicrafts to science and literature.’ Ahad Ha’am reasoned that ‘from this centre, the spirit of Judaism will radiate to the great circumference, to all the communities of the Diaspora, to inspire them with new life and to preserve the over-all unity of our people’ (Ha’am 1897 267). ‘Isolated groups of Jews wandering about the world here, there, and everywhere can be nothing more than a sort of formless raw material,’ he argued, ‘until they are provided with a single permanent centre, which can 8 exert a “pull” on all of them, and so transform the scattered atoms into a single entity with a definite and self-subsistent character of its own’ (Ha’am 1909 276). Cultural Zionism exerted considerable influence on many of the most important intellectuals in the Yishuv (the pre-state Jewish settlement in Palestine) and was crucial to the formation of the later Israeli peace movement’s most credible precursor, Brit Shalom (Covenant of Peace), active between 1925 and 1933. Among its most prominent members were the historian of Jewish mysticism, Gershom Scholem (1897–1982), the philosopher, Shmuel Hugo Bergmann (1883–1975), the historian of nationalism, Hans Kohn (1891–1971), the educationalist, Ernst Simon (1899–1988), and the founder and leader of Hadassah, the Zionist women’s organization, Henrietta Szold (1860–1945). Brit Shalom propagated a peaceful rapprochement with the indigenous Arab population and the creation of a binational state in Palestine. Themselves staunch Zionists and deeply committed to the establishment and consolidation of Jewish life in Palestine, theirs was a tale of aspiration, prescience and deep disillusionment that resonates strongly to this day. ‘We’, Shmuel Hugo Bergmann wrote in Brit Shalom’s periodical, She’ifotenu (Our Aspirations), at the end of 1929, ‘want Palestine to be our land in the sense that the political and moral outlook of Judaism leave their imprint on the life in this country’ (Bergmann 1929 73). Yet ‘our opponents have a different outlook altogether. When they talk about Palestine as our land the term “our land” means ours and not theirs’ (Bergmann 1929 74). There were ‘surely … few like us, the people of Brit Shalom, who are a minority within a minority in the Zionist movement, to understand the fate of a minority’. It was imperative that ‘here in Palestine such a regime be constructed which a priori shall take all national questions out of the sphere of majority versus minority decisions’ (Bergmann 1929 74). In this respect, Palestine should ‘be an example to all nations, because in that land we shall carry out such arrangements in the relations between the two peoples inhabiting it, that will serve as a model’ (Bergmann 1929 75). If, conversely, ‘we insist on being a majority as a condition of our political success, and declare … that there can be no national home without a majority – then … we shall be able to attain the goal of our national home only through a victory over the Arabs and against their will. That means, that we shall be erecting our national home as an enemy bastion against the East in which we shall be living’ (Bergmann 1929 76). To be sure, ‘the Arab people and in particular the young generation which grew up after the war in an atmosphere of anti-Zionist propaganda, is pervaded with a spirit 9 of chauvinism’. Yet ‘chauvinism has been making evil inroads in our camp just as in theirs’. ‘One cannot,’ Bergmann concluded, ‘aspire to become a majority in order to abolish the morality of the majority. The means contradict the aim, and instead of achieving the aim, you will subjugate yourself to the means’ (Bergmann 1929 77).

ZIONISM, COLONIALISM, AND IMPERIALISM

How Zionism can best be understood, both historically and conceptually, in relation to colonialism and imperialism is a complex issue. Arguably its most helpful discussion has been offered by Derek Penslar. Zionism, Penslar clarifies,

was a product of the age of imperialism ... Yet the movement was not, in and of itself, a form of colonial practice. ... Zionism sought to realize itself in the Middle East, in an area chosen not for its strategic value, natural resources or productive capabilities ... Because Zionism’s mission civilatrice was directed almost entirely inward ... Zionism lacked the evangelical qualities of European colonialism in North America, Asia and Africa (Penslar 2003 96).

Penslar identifies two common problems that tend to skew much discussion of this issue. On the one hand, many are inclined ‘to establish complete congruence or total separation between’ Zionism and colonialism. On the other hand, ‘additional categories of analysis such as anticolonialism … and postcolonialism’ are all too rarely taken into consideration. On Penslar’s reading, Zionism has been ‘historically and conceptually situated between colonial, anticolonial and postcolonial discourse and practice’ (Penslar 2003 85). To be sure, ‘the World Zionist Organization tried to assume the role of a colonizing state’ and ‘the instrumental rationality, bureaucratic procedure, and expectation of sustained profit that characterize modern colonialism (and distinguish it from mere conquest) were all present in the early Zionist project’. Yet, as Penslar emphasizes, these ‘attempts to take on the mantle of the colonizing state failed, primarily due to a lack of means’ (Penslar 2003 86). On the other hand, drawing on the notion of European Jewry as an internal colony, a perspective explored fruitfully, inter alia, by Susannah Heschel (Heschel 1998 and 1999) and Jonathan Hess (Hess 2002), Penslar argues that ‘the secularizing Jewish intelligentsia in nineteenth-century Europe bore much in common with the Westernized intelligentsia in lands under European colonial rule’. It was therefore ‘no surprise … that Zionist ideology bore many similarities to that of anticolonial national movements.’ Yet 10 there were ‘spectacular differences as well’ (Penslar 2003 91). Not least, the Zionist focus on agriculture rather than industry stood out as ‘eccentric’ and was at odds with the usual ‘developmental world view of postcolonial state building’ (Penslar 2003 93). Penslar concludes his discussion with the perhaps more controversial contention that ‘Israel's relationship with the Arab minority’ did eventually ‘change to a genuine form of colonialism’ after 1967. Even if one follows this line of argument, however, it takes away none of ‘the importance of ruptures as well as continuities within the fabric of Israeli history when evaluating the relationship between Zionism and colonialism’ (Penslar 2003 97). Both conceptually and historically, then, Zionism emerges as a hybrid whose nexus to colonialism and imperialism is deeply ambivalent. It is hardly surprising that this makes Zionism a highly emotive and unusually irksome phenomenon for all those who, across the political spectrum from the extreme right to the far left, inhabit a world supposedly free of such ambiguities in which everyone can be neatly identified as either a proponent and/or agent of imperialism or as its victim and/or opponent.

References

Given the hopefully broad range of readers who will consult this encyclopaedia, I have quoted primary sources from editions readily available to a general readership.

Bergmann, Shmuel Hugo (1929) ‘Dr. Hugo Bergmann on the Majority Question’ in Aharon Kedar, ‘Brith Shalom (Documents and Introduction)’ in Jerusalem Quarterly No. 18 (1981), 73–77. Dubnow, Simon (1901) ‘Autonomism, the Basis of the National Programme’ [excerpt] in Paul Mendes-Flohr and Jehuda Reinharz, eds. The Jew in the Modern World. A Documentary History. New York, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 21995, 417– 419. Ha’am, Ahad (1897) ‘The Jewish State and the Jewish Problem’ in Arthur Hertzberg, ed. The Zionist Idea. A Historical Analysis and Reader. New York, Philadelphia: Meridian Books, JPS, 1960, 262–269. Ha’am, Ahad (1909) ‘The Negation of the Diaspora’ in Arthur Hertzberg, ed. The Zionist Idea. A Historical Analysis and Reader. New York, Philadelphia: Meridian Books, JPS, 1960, 270–277. Herzl, Theodor (1896) The Jewish State [excerpt] in Arthur Hertzberg, ed. The Zionist Idea. A Historical Analysis and Reader. New York, Philadelphia: Meridian Books, JPS, 1960, 204–226.

Funkenstein, Amos (1993) Perceptions of Jewish History. Berkeley, Los Angeles, Oxford: University of California Press. Heschel, Susannah (1998) ‘Jewish Studies as Counterhistory,’ in David Biale, Michael Galchinsky, Susannah Heschel, eds. Insider/Outsider. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998: 101–115.

11 Heschel, Susannah (1999) ‘Revolt of the Colonized: Abraham Geiger’s “Wissenschaft des Judentums” as a Challenge to Christian Hegemony in the Academy,’ in New German Critique No. 77 (1999): 61–85. Hess, Jonathan (2002) Germans, Jews and the claims of modernity. New Haven and London: Yale University Press. Penslar, Derek J. (2003) ‘Zionism, Colonialism and Postcolonialism,’ in Anita Shapira and Derek J. Penslar, eds. Israeli Historical Revisionism. From Left to Right. London, Portland: Frank Cass, 2003, 84–98. Rotenstreich, Nathan (2007) Zionism Past and Present. Albany: SUNY Press. Scholem, Gershom (1974) ‘Zionism. Dialectic of Continuity and Rebellion’, in Ehud Ben Ezer, ed. Unease in Zion. New York, Jerusalem: Quandrangle/New York Times Book Co., Jerusalem Academic Press, 263–296. Shapira, Anita (1990) ‘Herzl, Ahad Ha-’Am, and Berdichevsky: Comments on their nationalist concepts’, in Jewish History 4, 2, 59–69.