In recent months, Palestinians and several figures on the British left have called on the United Kingdom to apologize formally for its imperialistic audacity in issuing the Balfour Declaration—the November 2, 1917, pronouncement in which Foreign Secretary Arthur James Balfour stated that “His Majesty’s Government view with favour the establishment in Palestine of a national home for the Jewish people.” The declaration was the first serious international recognition of the right of Jewish self-determination. The British government has refused to capitulate. An April statement from the Foreign Office put it this way: “Establishing a homeland for the Jewish people in the land to which they had such strong historical and religious ties was the right and moral thing to do.”
Wary that “the centenary year of the Balfour Declaration would bring out strong views about the validity of that Declaration, and hence about the legitimacy of Israel itself,” Lord Leslie Turnberg—a distinguished physician and Labour peer—sets out to correct the historical record in his new book.
He begins by examining the deeply flawed Sykes-Picot agreement of 1916, in which Britain and France, even before they had vanquished the Ottomans and taken control of Asia Minor, divvied up the Near East. Drawing arbitrary lines in the desert and empowering minority religious factions in Iraq and Syria, Sykes-Picot’s effort to impose “Western-style structures on sectarian divisions across the Middle East was resented at the time and led to today’s instability.”
Into the frothing unrest entered Lord Balfour, an amiable aristocrat who, “though logical and persuasive as a parliamentarian,” was “not a politician in the modern sense and . . . did not obviously strive to climb any greasy poles.” Turnberg describes the foreign secretary as “absolutely committed to his ideals with a strong British nationalistic, conservative backbone.”
If not exactly a Zionist himself, Balfour, in Turnberg’s depiction, was something of a fellow traveler: “There seems little doubt that the main driver was his innate sense of justice for the Jewish cause. His interest in the Jews and their history was life long, originating in his Old Testament training.”
Contemporary Arab leaders in Damascus and Mecca expressed early support for the declaration. But their successors initiated a campaign to exterminate Palestine’s Jews, one that has continued more or less unabated through today. Beyond the Balfour Declaration offers a broad history of this military and diplomatic conflict, the resolution of which Turnberg earnestly seeks—and believes may be within reach.
He surveys the various peace efforts, successful and not, that have marked the last seven decades and distills certain principles underlying effective negotiation. Drawing lessons from past steps toward peace, Turnberg argues that resolving the conflict will require both a courageous, “far-sighted leader of an Arab state” and a “strong, Israeli leader with a stable government capable of overcoming resistance at home.” It will also demand “locally inspired initiatives between the parties,” backed by “American pressure and unswerving presidential involvement.”
While previous efforts at securing peace have foundered, Turnberg reckons that current circumstances present a new opportunity. Saudi Arabia presented its Arab Peace Initiative some 15 years ago. Its basic terms—Israeli withdrawal to the 1967 lines, the establishment of a Palestinian state with a capital in East Jerusalem, and a “just solution” for Palestinian “refugees”—differed little from typical proposals. But remember the context of that 2002 proposal: It came during the “second intifada,” the spate of Palestinian terror attacks that claimed about 1,000 Israeli lives over the course of several years. The Saudi proposal was anathema in Israel.
Today, however, with Shiite Iran ascendant, the Saudis and their Sunni allies in the Gulf states “have an added reason to see a strong Israel at peace with its neighbour as they face common enemies.” And for Israel, “gaining normal and full diplomatic relations with fifty-seven Arab countries would be a seismic change,” potentially justifying painful sacrifices and major electoral risk.
Turnberg is exceptionally well-read for an amateur historian, although his lack of formal training occasionally causes problems. He asserts that the Balfour Declaration “was never a legally binding document”—but, as Martin Kramer recently explained in an important essay in Mosaic, the declaration’s inclusion in the League of Nations-authorized mandate for Palestine did indeed give the declaration the status of binding international law. In addition, Turnberg’s relatively equal treatment of all negotiations between Arabs and Israelis sometimes elevates the importance of trivial efforts while muting more significant ones. Overall, though, Turnberg’s evenhanded treatment of the declaration, its origins, and its implications offers us not just a better understanding of the past but a glimmer of hope for the future.
Michael M. Rosen is an attorney and writer in Israel.
