Art and politics, and a voice of reason

Nadine Gordimer, the 84-year-old South African Nobel laureate who has written more than 30 books. (TIZIANA FABI/AFP/Getty Images)

FIRST, I was flattered at the invitation to attend the first International Jerusalem Writers Festival; the opportunity to visit Israel again was itself a great gift. But learning that Nadine Gordimer, one of my heroes, would also be there made it feel like an honor. The 84-year-old South African Nobel laureate has written more than 30 beautiful, complicated books, several of which were banned by the apartheid government she worked for decades, and at personal risk, to defeat.

Gordimer was under intense pressure to boycott the festival, which took place earlier this month. Given her past criticism of Israeli policies, it seemed possible that she might stay away. So her appearance was viewed as something of a coup and not only by the organizers of the event; President Shimon Peres, speaking at the opening-night ceremony, stopped to shake her hand on his way to the podium and cameras flashed.

The relationship between art and politics was a frequent topic during the well-attended four-day festival, which featured 15 foreign writers in public conversation with nearly 40 Israeli authors. Gordimer's appearances were packed, especially the marquee conversation with author and activist Amos Oz.

The two friends sat under a white tent on a promontory overlooking the tawny walls of the old city of Jerusalem. As the sun set, they discussed the process of writing and the challenge of being true to one's craft even when a story or a novel is set in the context of political conflict. They agreed that nothing kills art quicker than a political agenda, even though their works are shaped by a sense of their place in the world.

Then they talked about the "a" word. Gordimer said that it was incorrect and wrong to paint Israel and South Africa with the same brush. "White people can not lay claim to a single inch of Africa," she said. The Jews, on the other hand, have a historical claim on the land of Israel. "In this, they are not at all comparable and Israel is not an apartheid state." However, she continued, "The police actions in the occupied territories, the forced removals and such, are exactly what happened in South Africa in the so-called 'reserved areas.' "

Taking a breath, she added, "I'm sorry to say this, but it is shameful." The audience literally twitched in discomfort, but Oz did not turn a hair.

"I would go further," he said. "I would say it is criminal." No one moved a muscle.

Oz was only one of many Israeli writers to talk about the "matsav," the "situation," in such bold terms. In a city festooned with blue and white flags in celebration of Israel's 60th anniversary, writers spoke of the "dual narratives" about May 14, 1948, and even referred to the Palestinian term for what happened on that date: "naqba" or "catastrophe." It's a tough word for Israelis but no longer taboo, and not just among writers and public intellectuals. It's part of the vocabulary of citizens like Natalie Barkan, who works for the Abraham Fund, one of hundreds of nonprofits supporting coexistence projects between Jews and Arabs. She says, "With one son serving in the army and another about to enter, I'm just as concerned about the moral dilemmas they will face as I am about their physical safety."

The divisions in the region are so intractable, the prospects for peace are so slim, it's easy to despair. And yet, there was Nadine Gordimer, a cool presence most of the time, speaking with unabashed delight about seeing a street sign in Johannesburg bearing the name of her friend and fellow antiapartheid activist, Joe Slovo. "If we in South Africa can have reconciliation, anyone can," she said.

Gordimer was not the only writer who received pleas to boycott the festival. Irish novelist Niall Williams explained his decision to attend in terms of his country's history of bitter violence between nationalists and unionists, Catholics and Protestants. "All of my childhood and much of my adulthood was focused on 'the troubles.' For most of that time, it was literally unthinkable that there could be peace in Ireland," he said. "Not until imagination infiltrates politics - until the idea of reconciliation can be articulated - is change possible."

Anita Diamant's most recent novel is "The Last Days of Dogtown." She is a guest columnist.