Mr. Smith Goes to Jerusalem

Today marks the 30th anniversary of Egyptian President Anwar Sadat’s legendary voyage to Jerusalem, the capital of his then-enemy, the Jewish State of Israel. As Sadat himself declared, “I would go to the end of the earth. I would go to Israel, for I want to put before the people of Israel all the facts.”

In visiting the Israeli capital, Sadat had courageously done what few Arab leaders would still do today: He declared a commitment to peace in his enemy’s den. His 28-minute plane ride from a military base near the Suez Canal to Tel Aviv permanently changed fears into hopes and transformed hate into trust. As rumors persist of a reprisal of Syrian-Israeli peace negotiations, it is wise to recall the dramatic effect of Sadat’s visit on a possible Arab-Israel peace. To prove his sincerity about living side by side in peace with Israel, President Bashar Assad of Syria should follow in Sadat’s heroic footsteps and visit Israel without preconditions.

Sadat’s unexpected trip produced a wave of euphoria across Israel. Israeli diplomats scrambled to find Egyptian flags, a band that could play the Egyptian national anthem, and a way to show Sadat the Holy Land they had fought over. Israelis—Holocaust survivors, soldiers who had fought Egyptians only four years earlier, and a younger generation alike—welcomed Sadat with open arms. The Israeli daily Maariv printed a red banner headline in Arabic and Hebrew reading, “Welcome President Sadat.” Egyptian songs were played on the radio and Israelis addressed their enemies as achi, brother, a word common to both languages.

In a bold and irreversible step, Sadat’s journey to Jerusalem and address to the Knesset, the Israeli parliament, shattered the pan-Arab front of no peace with Israel, no recognition of Israel, and no negotiations with Israel. Though a peace agreement took several years, Sadat’s visit had proved to Israelis that there was no turning back, that the frontier had been breached, and Sadat had cast his lot.

Sixty years of hostility, distrust, and paranoia must be overcome for Israel to trust Syrian intentions. Shortly after declaring independence in 1948, Israel was invaded by Syria along with five other Arab states. In the Six Day War of 1967, Israel conquered and holds to this day the strategic Golan Heights, once-Syrian territory that is a mere 35 miles from Damascus. A surprise Syrian-initiated war in 1973 on Yom Kippur, the holiest Jewish day of the year no less, added to the enmity. Though peace negotiations seemed close in the 1990s, Israeli-Palestinian accords soon gained primary importance in Israel, the United States, and the rest of the Arab world.

Since then, mistrust has only deepened. Israeli jets regularly fly over Assad’s palaces. In September, the Israeli Air Force reportedly destroyed a Syrian nuclear reactor, purportedly provided by North Korea. A month ago, the Central Boycott Office in Damascus invited delegates from Arab states to redouble efforts at banning business with Israel. Damascus has been a major benefactor and weapons supplier of Hamas and Hezbollah, terrorist groups dedicated to Israel’s complete obliteration. It has allied itself with Iran’s President Mahmoud Ahmedinejad, who has explicitly called for Israel to be wiped off the map and has been undeterred in his pursuit of nuclear capabilities. For peace, Assad would have to end his support of these U.S.-designated terrorist groups and terminate its recent embrace of the apocalyptic visions of theocratic Iran. A return to the “land for peace” formula, articulated in United Nations Security Council Resolution 242, which calls for Israeli withdrawal from territories conquered in the Six Day War in exchange for peace, does not address any of these other issues.

To demonstrate that he is interested in peace, which would require ending Syrian support for all anti-Israel organizations and permit the Israeli flag to fly high from a potential Israeli embassy in downtown Damascus, Assad should visit the land of his mortal enemy. Only by addressing the Knesset, by visiting Yad Vashem, and by shaking hands in public with Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Olmert, can he demonstrate that his talk is not mere lip service. The Israeli people no longer trust Arab leaders at their word; they must prove their credibility and desire for peace through their deeds. By taking the political and personal risk of flying to Jerusalem, Assad will have taken the road less traveled. Going to “the ends of the Earth,” as Sadat did three decades ago, will convince the world that he is willing to take the difficult steps necessary for peace.

Perhaps one day Assad will realize that hearing Homat el-Diyar, the Syrian national anthem, performed by an Israeli orchestra on Israeli soil would be a greater impetus for peace than meek statements from his comfortable palace in Damascus. Perhaps the memory of Sadat’s trip will spur Assad to action. And hopefully that day will come soon.



Gabriel M. Scheinmann ’08 is a government concentrator in Eliot House. He is associate editor of New Society: The Harvard College Student Middle East Journal.