Up close, an Impressionist painting is a jumbled mess. Once we step back, a beautiful painting emerges. When closely observed, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is a mess. If we allow ourselves some distance to gain clarity, it is still a mess. Myriad factors, nuances, and influences of this conflict, including this war, complicate its mitigation and resolution.
That is how I often begin talks on this century-long conflict, gleaned from over a quarter of a century working at the Arava Institute for Environmental Studies, where we bring together Palestinian and Israeli students, academics, and researchers on our Kibbutz Ketura campus. I also teach conflict resolution at Bennington College.
Conflict exists within its own contradictions
This conflict, like so many conflicts, exists within its own contradictions, as does this painting metaphor. Despite so much strife and confusion, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict can be reduced to a simple rubric.
For Zionists, the endeavor is a long-awaited homecoming. For Palestinians, it is an imperialist colonial invasion. The Zionist movement sees its endeavor, based upon the historical connection of the Jewish people to the land, as a restoration of that claim.
Because the Zionist movement aligned itself early on with Britain (i.e., the Balfour Declaration), Palestinians see Zionism as an imperialistic Western foothold in the Middle East. Peel back almost any statement or action these past 100-plus years and we arrive at these extremely different outlooks, emotions, and perceptions: homecoming vs invasion.
Those contrasting impressions lie at the core of the conflict. The inability of the majority of Palestinians and Israelis to acknowledge the “reality” of the other constitutes the heart of why both sides remain stuck. That recognition is essential if we are to break the status quo; it’s not easily achieved or maintained
“There must be another way,” Achinoam Nini and Mira Awad sing together in their co-written song. While Jerusalem, borders, security, settlements, and refugees must all be addressed, those core issues cannot be separated from other critical underlying influential sentiments.
For example, in 1947 the Zionists were willing to give up about half of Mandatory Palestine by accepting the UN Partition Plan (Resolution 181) dividing the land into two states. We can only imagine a very different history had both parties agreed.
Still, this misses an important nuance: no matter what the Zionists agreed to, they were gaining, while the Palestinians were giving away. It is always easier to act and sound magnanimous when we gain as opposed to when we lose.
Renewed talk of two-state solution
IN THE shadow of the latest war between Israelis and Palestinians, there is renewed talk of the two-state solution, based on the Green Line of June 4, 1967. Previously, under Ehud Barak and then Ehud Olmert, Israel offered Yasir Arafat and then Mahmoud Abbas more than 90% of the West Bank and all of Gaza.
To the Israeli mind, the terms were extremely benevolent. The Palestinian calculation was that they had already lost 78% of Palestine in the war of 1948-49, and so they were only being offered 90% of the remaining 22% – if anything, in their eyes, they should have been offered 100% of that 22%. Those two orientations, 90% and 22%, while vastly different, are each based on real perspectives, but from two very different starting points.
Palestinians and Israelis use twin Semitic words, salam and shalom, for peace. However, behind each word are distinctive assumptions. Palestinians use salam with the demand for justice; for Israelis shalom is about security. The goal of peace may be the same, but different bearings influence how we approach it. The Jewish state carries the weight and insecurity of the Holocaust, as well as centuries of persecutions.
The horrific pogrom in the Gaza border communities this past October rekindled that fear, pushing more Israelis to diminish the thought of reconciliation with Palestinians. For Palestinians, the search for justice comes out of a deep sense of being the injured party, particularly with the loss of life and land in 1948-49 (the Nakba) and in 1967. As we begin 2024, the massive destruction in Gaza and Israeli military operations in the West Bank add to that frame of reference.
Using the same words, such as “peace” – when speaking and in joint statements and documents – does not mean those words carry the same meaning. The clarification of those differences is necessary so that both parties can be properly understood.
That same chasm exists as each side sees themselves as weaker and more vulnerable compared to the other. Palestinians see in Israel one of the strongest, most sophisticated armies in the world, backed and supported by the West, including the strongest army in the world – the United States.
In Gaza, Israel continues to use that overwhelming power against them. At the same time, Israelis feel they have their backs against the wall, the Mediterranean Sea. They see not only Palestinians but also the armies of many Middle Eastern countries.
There may be peace with Egypt, Jordan, and other Arab countries, but Iran has made it clear it wishes to wipe Israel off the face of the earth. Iran builds stronger and more sophisticated weapons, hinting at a goal of nuclear weapons, and effectively attacks Israel using its proxies in the North (Hezbollah), the South (Houthis), and the West (Gaza).
THE IMPRESSION of being weaker leads to the mindset of victimhood. Israelis and Palestinians have visceral, painful, and justified claims of being victims that need to be acknowledged. Such self-definition also creates roadblocks. In the encounter of the victims and their perpetrator, it is very hard to see the perpetrator as anything else.
Asking each side to recognize the victimhood of the other – even in the asymmetry of the conflict, all have agency – means to also take responsibility for one’s own actions. That is a difficult task for both sides. If one admits to contributing to the victimhood of the other there is the fear that one’s own status of being the injured party will be diminished. Victims do not take chances.
The Israeli-Palestinian dynamics – homecoming vs imperial invasion, gaining vs losing, 90% vs 22%, peace vs. security vs justice, weaker vs stronger, victimhood – lie beneath the surface of this conflict. To bring them to light is challenging yet crucial.
As Arava Institute alumnus Michael Thomson insightfully explains: “One of the most impactful takeaways for me with those discussions was how to accept and attempt empathy for others’ fears, without feeling like those fears were in competition with your own. We had a guest facilitator give a talk on the dangers of ‘yes, but…’ thinking, asking, ‘what happens if we say yes, period?’” That approach, as another Arava Institute alumna, Dana Rassas, says, is “one of the simplest and hardest to do concepts.”
In the face of a dangerous conflict and uncertain times, president John F. Kennedy said, “No one can be certain what the future will bring. No one can say whether the time has come for an easing of the struggle. But history and our own conscience will judge us harsher if we do not now make every effort to test our hopes by action, and this is the place to begin.”
The writer, a rabbi, teaches at the Arava Institute for Environmental Studies at Kibbutz Ketura and Bennington College.