Peace requires betrayal

By Shlomo Ben-Ami

TEL AVIV ― In 1795, German philosopher Immanuel Kant wrote that perpetual peace could come either through diplomacy or a "war of extermination" that annihilates all parties and leaves only the "vast burial ground of the human race." Historically, humanity has tended to favor the latter, at least until the ravages of war forced warring states to come to an accommodation. And even then, bold leadership was needed to end the bloodshed.

Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy's courage as a wartime leader is undeniable. But Zelenskyy is also a hostage of his political environment. Against a ruthless invading army, his political (and perhaps physical) survival depends on his steadfast commitment to total Russian defeat.

When it comes to the transition from war to peace, public opinion is often more bellicose than political leaders are. Whereas patriotic wars like Ukraine's tend to unite countries, seeking an imperfect peace during wartime is inherently divisive and often viewed as an act of betrayal.

But pursuing a divisive peace is perhaps the only noble form of betraying one's voters. As Charles de Gaulle famously observed, "In politics, it is necessary either to betray one's country or the electorate. I prefer to betray the electorate." De Gaulle applied this maxim when he signed the Evian Accords, which granted Algeria independence, in March 1962. A few months later, he narrowly escaped an assassination attempt by military officers opposed to the French withdrawal.

Israel's hawkish former prime minister, Ariel Sharon, was also an unlikely "traitor." In 2005, Sharon made the single most significant attempt to curb Israel's obsession with building settlements on Palestinian land in the occupied territories, dismantling the Jewish settlements in the Gaza Strip and a few in the West Bank. But by doing so, Sharon betrayed both his right-wing electorate and the tenor of his entire political career up to that point.

The 1998 Good Friday agreement that brought peace to Northern Ireland is another example of a "traitorous" peace. For decades, Protestant loyalist Ian Paisley's biggest nightmare was sitting across from a Roman Catholic Republican militant like Martin McGuinness. Yet, in 2007, the two former foes agreed to join a power-sharing government; they got on so well that the press dubbed them the "chuckle brothers."

Jordan's King Abdullah I and the late Egyptian President Anwar Sadat were less fortunate. Both leaders dared to go against public sentiment and sought peace with Israel ― and paid with their lives. But while the Egypt-Israel peace survived Sadat's assassination in 1981, Abdullah's murder in 1951 delayed the peace between Israel and Jordan for more than four decades and dealt a fatal blow to the hope of a combined Israeli-Jordanian-Palestinian settlement. After learning of Abdullah's assassination, British Prime Minister Winston Churchill lamented the loss of a wise king who "held out the hand of reconciliation to Israel."

Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin's decision to "make peace as if there is no terror" also cost him his life. Rabin, who was assassinated by a right-wing extremist in 1995, did not betray his center-left voters when he signed the Oslo Accords in 1993. But he also refused to be held hostage by fickle public sentiment. A day before the election that brought him to office, Rabin assured the Israeli residents of the occupied Golan Heights that "it is inconceivable that even if there is peace, we will leave." A few months later, however, he was negotiating with Syrian President Hafez al-Assad on a peace agreement that would have committed Israel to withdraw from the strategically important region.

Peace diplomacy is particularly controversial when conducted under fire. Former Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Barak, for example, was not assassinated for his willingness to make concessions to the Palestinians. But the bloody Second Intifada that erupted under his watch in 2000 led to his ouster.

Rabin and Barak's nemesis, Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat, never fully committed to the peace process, fearing that his people would turn on him. As he repeatedly told then-U.S. President Bill Clinton, "Do you want to come to my funeral?" Arafat represented a just cause, but his reluctance to endorse an inevitably imperfect peace deal severely impeded the Palestinian quest for self-determination.

To be sure, Ukraine's cause is no less just than Palestine's. But its desired endgame ― unconditional Russian defeat ― might be equally elusive. Meanwhile, Russia's brutal, unrelenting assaults turn the public against any form of peace negotiations, making it even more difficult for Zelenskyy to pursue an unpopular compromise.

Consequently, the Ukraine war has become a sad replica of the frozen, brutally deadlocked fronts of World War I. As Russian President Vladimir Putin grows increasingly desperate, the likelihood of Russia using a nuclear weapon in Ukraine and dragging the United States and NATO directly into the war increases. And then there is the possibility that China, Russia's strategic ally, will invade Taiwan and trigger a calamitous global conflict.

Ukraine's leaders must heed the lessons of the Iran-Iraq war of the 1980s. That conflict, which began in 1980 and lasted for eight years, is estimated to have claimed more than a million lives before Iran, the war-weary victim of Iraqi aggression, finally called for a ceasefire. That proved to be a wise decision that saved the Islamic Republic from annihilation.

Over the past year, Zelenskyy has become an unlikely war hero. But he now faces an excruciating dilemma, as the only way to bring the war to an end is through an imperfect peace. Sooner or later, Zelenskyy ― or, better yet, Putin ― will have to commit the ultimate act of political betrayal.

Shlomo Ben-Ami, a former Israeli foreign minister, is vice president of the Toledo International Center for Peace and the author of "Prophets Without Honor: The 2000 Camp David Summit and the End of the Two-State Solution" (Oxford University Press, 2022). This article was distributed by Project Syndicate (www.project-syndicate.org).