The folly of symbolism

Editorial

International diplomacy can be a compromising and pragmatic affair. A pragmatic compromise seems to have occurred earlier this month when Canada's Foreign Affairs Minister Pierre Pettigrew laid a wreath on the grave of Yasser Arafat.

Laying a wreath on the grave of Arafat may appear grotesque to Canadian Zionists, who rightly see Arafat as a terrorist who is responsible for the deaths of thousands of Jews and others. But if there is a potential for Canada to play a role in an emerging peace, we may have to swallow a bit of distasteful symbolism.

Laying a wreath is a relatively innocuous act. Had Pettigrew refused to do so, he may have precluded Canada from playing a future role because Palestinians and their advocates could have viewed such a refusal as a snub of their cause and an implicit allegiance to Israel. Should Pettigrew have laid the wreath? Is it possible that such an act could mark the death of a despised leader without mourning him? To both questions, the answer would seem to be no. Arafat was a dictator who directly and indirectly incited murder and is arguably solely responsible for nearly five years of violence between Israelis and Palestinians. To mark his death seems akin to mourning it. Would a Canadian official lay a wreath on the grave of Idi Amin or Pol Pot or any of the other despots that have led murderous regimes? We hope not.

But the Middle East is a region unlike the others, for a variety of reasons. The most significant consideration in Pettigrew's decision should have been the imperative for Canada to play a role in building peace in the region – a role we have failed to engage in actively over the past several years.

The wreath-laying was a simple, symbolic gesture, but so much of this conflict is about symbolism. The nature of the conflict – two peoples, racially similar but religiously diverse, residing in some of the holiest of places on earth and locked in a conflict with ancient roots – means symbolism is rife and may be inextricable from the substantive aspects of the conflict.

Even so, we must make an effort to extract the substantive from the symbolic in this situation. As certain as we may be that Arafat is a symbol of murder, blood and violent Jew-hatred, it may be time to turn our attentions toward the tangible and practical, as we hope the Palestinian people will finally get over some symbolic acts that have fuelled these years of violence, so we can move forward on more substantive issues. If, sometimes, we have to accept symbolic affronts to our worldview in order to advance the hope for peace, the potential benefits must outweigh the distaste. In this case, it does.

^TOP