David Isaac

We’re all familiar with the concept of “off the shelf.” We buy most of our consumer electronics that way – ready to go. Now the Bush administration has taken a page from Best Buy’s playbook and introduced the concept to international treaties.

The administration’s new idea, spearheaded by Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice, is to push Israel to negotiate a final “agreement in principle,” which would be shelved until it could be implemented at a later date.

The thinking behind this idea is that such a treaty will motivate the Palestinian Arabs by giving them something to reach for—a trophy to be won once they’ve become a peace-loving people—at which point it will be brought down off the shelf and handed to them. The real pressure to reach a treaty, however, probably stems from President Bush’s insistence on his own trophy, an agreement to help burnish his legacy. One that can’t be implemented is the best weak leaders on both sides can do.

Plenty of pundits think a shelf agreement is a lousy idea. They explain that it needs to be the other way around, with the Palestinian Arab side first proving itself before final status negotiations commence. Past experience, they say, also shows that the Arab side will simply snatch the agreement off the shelf and demand Israel make still more sacrifices.

That’s one way to look at it. Another way is that an agreement reached with the express intention of not putting it into effect—a historical first—may be the greatest gift any American administration has ever bestowed upon the Jewish State. You sign it, we shelve it. It’s so brilliant it’s no wonder observers have mistaken it as ludicrous.

Quibble about the details if you must but it’s fair to say that every agreement Israel signs will involve retreat to a more disadvantageous position vis a vis its Arab enemy. Worldwide pressure persistently demands such agreements. If only there was a way to satisfy that pressure without making more concessions. What to do?

Enter the shelf agreement, an old-fashioned treaty with a twist. You don’t do it. Israel will satisfy the world’s hunger for progress on the Arab-Israel front at the same time it ensures its own survival through non-implementation.

Diplomats often talk about “iron clad” agreements. These are agreements that have been so thoroughly vetted, combed over and refined that they account for every possible contingency. Non-implementation agreements, especially since they’re new, must also meet these same high standards. One way is through vanishing ink.

There is always the danger that someone rummaging through treaties in the back rooms of the State Department or Knesset or a Bedouin tent will stumble upon the non-implementation treaty and mistake it for the other kind and try to implement it.

Vanishing Ink

Vanishing ink pens, which can be purchased online for $4.95 a pair, guard against this possibility. Every non-implementation treaty written with these pens will make a treaty unreadable within 20 minutes, just enough time for smiles and handshakes at the photo-op.

Toilet Paper

According to the online encyclopedia Wikipedia, toilet paper “is a soft paper product used to maintain personal hygiene after human defecation or urination.” Its first use dates back to the 6th century CE in early medieval China.

With such a long history, it seems only natural to print historical documents on the stuff. The main advantage, of course, is that this enviro-friendly and biodegradable material easily dissolves in water. All non-implementation partners should insist on toilet paper as their paper of choice, which will be deposited in the nearest toilet following the photo-op.

Naysayers often like to poo-poo important agreements by claiming they’re not worth the paper they’re written on. Well, here is one instance where the signatories can turn right around and say it is worth the paper it’s written on!

Retroactive Non-Implementation

History is full of mistakes. Just ask Israeli President Shimon Peres. He should know. He’s made enough of them. Perhaps that’s what he had in mind when he said, “I have become totally tired of history, because I feel history is a long misunderstanding.”

If only there was a way to go back in time and right those wrongs. With retroactive non-implementation we can. Imagine a world without the Oslo Accords, a world without Camp David, a world without the White Paper of 1939.

You might say, “How is it possible? These agreements weren’t written with vanishing ink. They weren’t printed on toilet paper.” And you have a point. But vanishing ink and toilet paper do not a non-implementation agreement make. What matters is the intention of the parties.

Take for example the intention behind the Arab concept of hudna, or “truce,” the most famous of which was the Treaty of Hudaybiyyah between Muhammed and the Quraysh tribe, in which the former slaughtered the latter two years after it was signed. Tahdia is another Arab favorite. This loosey-goosey idea doesn’t quite amount to a hudna and translators still argue over its literal meaning, splitting evenly between “Hang on. I’m reloading,” and “Stop moving, so I can kill you.”

Along these lines, we would like to introduce a new Jewish political concept into the mix that will help both retroactive and future non-implementation go down more smoothly. It’s called, “Treaty, Shmeaty,” and translates roughly as “The Merkava tank in your town square will remain indefinitely.”

If non-implementation catches on, and we’re confident it will, soon the Chamberlains of the world will be crying out with perfect confidence from every tarmac, as they raise their vanishing ink-stained toilet paper treaties high, “Peace in another time.”

David Isaac is a freelance writer in Los Angeles.