Embracing the 'Radical Middle'

My friend Chris Seiple is a brilliant guy and a very able communicator. He has a preacher’s gift for explaining abstract concepts simply, and he is a keen analyst and observer of the world we live in.   He often describes his work at the Institute for Global Engagement as attempting to create a “radical middle where citizens can be respectfully honest and agree to disagree (when necessary) while maintaining relationships.”  

As someone who is weary of the American culture wars, the deep polarization in our society, and the high levels of incivility in our discourse, I confess I’m drawn to another way, almost any other way, of bringing my deeply held views into the public square.  How do we live with deep differences and at the same time advance a common good?   How do we disagree on principle without demonizing those who hold opposite views?  

To me, this notion of the radical middle is central to navigating some of our thorniest challenges in America today.  And of course among them is one of the thorniest of all:  the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.  Both sides have their partisans and both quickly apply a Hogwarts-like Sorting Hat to all who would dare enter into their club.  Either you are pro-Israel or you are pro-Palestinian, but you cannot possibly be both.  And yet what if this approach has actually helped perpetuate the conflict rather than resolve it?   What if we brought our pro-Israel and pro-Palestinian sympathies into the arena and discovered that they’re not mutually exclusive?  What if we created a ‘radical middle’ that would refuse to be drawn into the conflict but would instead look for constructive ways to end it?  What if to be pro-Israel is to be pro-Palestine? And what if the opposite is equally true?   That’s a radical middle ground that could transform a lot of brokenness both here and there.  

A Biography of the Holy City

In reading Simon Sebag-Montefiore’s Jerusalem: A Biography, I am reminded of Winston Churchill’s observation: “No two cities have counted more with mankind than Athens and Jerusalem.”  A city with over three thousand years of history, the story of Jerusalem is deeply connected to its location as a place where East encounters West and humanity encounters God.  Strategically insignificant and lacking in so many of the qualities and natural resources that have historically made a city great, Jerusalem compensates mostly by its proximity to the divine.

And while the divine is never far from Sebag-Montefiore’s grand and breezy survey of the city from the days of the Canaanites until today, his focus is on Jerusalem as crossroads, battlefield, and prize for conquerors.   The indigenous residents of Jerusalem—whoever they may be at any point in time—are rarely more than pawns in larger historical dramas and military campaigns. 

Interestingly, Sebag-Montefiore’s ancestor plays his own role in Jerusalem’s history.  The famous windmill just outside the Old City and behind the King David hotel was built by Sir Moses Montefiore.  Though he’s not always a great storyteller and his book suffers from lack of an experienced editor, for a sweeping history of the much disputed, much desired, much maligned city, Sebag-Montefiore’s book is worth reading.  Some will quibble with his assessments of the modern conflict between Israelis and Palestinians, but he makes a commendable attempt to extend fair treatment to both historical narratives and various points of view.