The Dutch cultural sector likes to present itself as a guardian of artistic freedom and free expression. It is therefore remarkable that a movement has emerged from within that same sector calling for the severing of cultural ties with Israeli institutions and artists.

More than three hundred Dutch and Belgian cultural organizations have joined a cultural boycott of Israel. They argue that they no longer wish to stand on the sidelines of what they regard as war crimes, crimes against humanity and genocide. Their appeal is formally directed at Israeli institutions rather than individual artists. Nevertheless, the boycott raises a fundamental question: what happens to a cultural sector when it embraces the logic of exclusion?

Culture has traditionally been a domain in which political antagonisms are temporarily suspended. Art has always built bridges where diplomacy failed. It is therefore striking that a sector whose legitimacy rests upon encounter and exchange now opts for separation and exclusion.

The defenders of the boycott frequently invoke South Africa. In doing so, they imply that the situation in Israel is comparable to the South African apartheid regime. That assumption is problematic because it ignores fundamental differences between the two societies. Whereas the cultural boycott of apartheid South Africa targeted a state that legally differentiated between population groups, the current boycott concerns a democratic society in which political opposition exists and in which many artists are among the sharpest critics of their own government. The paradox is evident: by excluding Israeli cultural institutions, one often targets precisely those who are committed to dialogue, peace and self-criticism.

The boycott therefore touches upon a deeper problem. Art is no longer judged on its content but on the political identity attributed to its origin. Once that principle is accepted, it becomes impossible to draw a consistent boundary. Why boycott Israel and not China, Iran, Turkey, Russia, Saudi Arabia or Qatar? Why does one war become a cultural red line while another does not? Selective outrage is not the same as moral courage.

The tension becomes even greater when the boycott is supported by institutions largely funded through public money.

The question is ultimately not whether one may criticize Israel. Of course one may. Indeed, a free society requires that possibility. The question is whether cultural institutions still understand their role when they replace dialogue with exclusion.

Art loses its meaning once it becomes merely an extension of political struggle. It ceases to be a space of encounter and becomes an instrument of division. A cultural sector that judges artists by their passport rather than their work risks destroying precisely what it claims to defend: the freedom of culture itself.

From culture to activism

Yet it would be too simple to regard the current cultural boycott solely as a conflict about Israel. The boycott is a symptom of a broader development within the Western cultural sector. The question that presents itself is not only why Israeli institutions are being excluded, but above all why a sector that derives its legitimacy from openness, curiosity and artistic freedom is increasingly choosing political orthodoxy and moral exclusion.

Roger Scruton warned decades ago of the politicization of culture. For him, culture was a common home in which people could meet one another without first having to prove their political convictions.

That is precisely why the current development is so striking. Whereas cultural institutions once presented themselves as places of encounter, they increasingly function as political actors. Art is in danger of becoming less a means of exploring reality than an instrument for affirming pre-established moral convictions.

Traditionally, the artist was free to ask questions and explore ambiguity. Increasingly, however, the correct political position appears to have been determined before the conversation has even begun.

The cultural boycott of Israel provides a telling example. The boycott declaration reads not as an invitation to dialogue but as a moral judgement. The institutions involved present their position as a self-evident truth about which no reasonable disagreement is thought possible. In doing so, they shift almost imperceptibly from their role as cultural institutions to that of political arbiters.

This raises an uncomfortable question. When exactly did museums, theaters, cultural organizations and arts funds begin to claim the authority to adjudicate geopolitical conflicts? When did artists become the new judges of international law?

The irony is difficult to ignore. The very sector that presents itself as a defender of freedom and diversity appears increasingly unwilling to tolerate dissenting perspectives when they conflict with the dominant moral consensus within its own........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)