Waking up on October 7, 2023, we were hit with a wave of shock as reports of the Hamas attack unfolded. It felt surreal, like something out of a movie. Images of chaos, fear, and devastation flashed across our screens, and as so many people on both sides, we felt a deep sense of fear.
How could this be happening? The world felt so uncertain, and our hearts raced at the thought of the innocent lives caught in the crossfire. We felt an overwhelming fear for the people in the affected areas, wondering how they would cope with such sudden violence.
And also, as all Palestinians, and a much smaller group of Israeli peace activists – including Vivian Silver, the founder of Women Wage Peace, who lost her life on October 7, killed by a rocket fired on her house by Hamas – we felt deep concern for those in Gaza, anxious about the potential consequences and the collective punishment that would likely follow.
For many Israelis, the massacre solidified their lack of faith in achieving any kind of peace with the Palestinian people. For about half a day, for the Palestinians it seemed like that huge war machine of Israel could be defeated with simple rockets, a few tractors and tenders, and with an angry mass of people crossing through the fence.
We can understand both perspectives, but we came to a different conclusion.
Combatants for Peace is a movement founded by former Israeli and Palestinian combatants who came to a pivotal realization that the methods they once believed necessary to protect their communities only fueled the cycle of violence and despair. We knew that the answer would be ever more violence, but we also recognized that now, more than ever, our task was to uphold the belief that there is another way.
The question was – and still is – how? How does a nonviolent joint movement act in the midst of war? How do we listen to each other?
Even on the same day, messages began pouring into our Combatants for Peace WhatsApp group. It was an unprecedented situation for both Palestinians and Israelis.
Our Palestinian activist Ahmad wrote, “I’m stuck now between my family in Gaza and my friends in Israel. I pray for them to be safe. I worry about them.” Then, our Israeli activist Moran responded, “I worry about my family that lives near Gaza and your family in Gaza. I wish this stupid bloody cycle would end already.”
Message after message of care, empathy, and solidarity. The key was to resist letting our sadness and fear dictate our response to this difficult situation and to stay committed to our beliefs and the future we envision.
Amid the layers of pain, violence, and loss, they still cared for each other with genuine kindness. Their support gave us the hope we desperately needed.
Already on October 8, the movement’s leaders sprang into action and quickly organized a series of online meetings. The intention was to create a space for both peoples to express their pain and anger, allowing participants to share for many hours. It was an immensely challenging task, but we were committed to holding onto our belief in our shared humanity. We believe it was this commitment that allowed us to support each other in these moments.
Unfortunately, we also know that even among the small group of peace activists, not everyone managed to pull themselves together so quickly, and, nearly a year later, we can reflect on our progress.
Dedication to nonviolent communication
Our long years of experience in nonviolent communication, understanding each other’s cultural nuances, and setting aside fear and deciding to meet physically after a relatively short time proved invaluable. We were fortunate in having the right people at the right time.
We also quickly realized that we couldn’t just keep this small glimmer of hope to ourselves. Almost immediately, we set out to give online talks to audiences all over the world. We participated in demonstrations calling for an end to the war and the safe return of the hostages, highlighting the suffering in Gaza and demanding an “all for all” hostages-for-Palestinian-prisoners exchange. We cohosted the 19th Joint Israeli-Palestinian Memorial Day Ceremony (together with the Bereaved Families Forum), as well as our 5th Joint Nakba Remembrance Ceremony.
We held binational seminars with dozens of new people joining from both sides. Our committed activists continued to provide protective presence work in the Jordan Valley, literally putting themselves at risk to oppose settlers and military violence.
We led educational activities for Israeli and Palestinian youth and launched a pilot program for religious Jewish youth to engage with issues of rights, the conflict, and the occupation. And we took an active part in a nonviolent direct action campaign to support Palestinians reclaiming their land from settlers in Al-Makhrour near Bethlehem.
As we gather to mark one year since October 7, together with the necessity of reflection, we feel pride in how, despite the darkness of these times, Combatants for Peace has remained a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, highlighting a community transformed by shared experiences and a collective desire for a better future.
Yet, the war is not a memory from the past; it is a present we endure and a future we fear. Since October 7, we have been listening to stories of loss and suffering, reminding us that we are still very much in the midst of it all. The scars of war run deep and are not easily erased, with each new event capable of reopening wounds.
Healing will be a long and difficult process. Yet, even amid this pain and grief, we, Israeli and Palestinian peace activists in the land, and a lot of international supporters abroad, remain steadfast in our commitment to nonviolence, embodying this principle in our lives.
There’s a collective understanding that true reconciliation takes time, effort, and unwavering commitment. We won’t give up on each other, and we won’t abandon our dream of a shared future.
Rana Salman is the Palestinian co-director and Eszter Koranyi is the Israeli co-director of Combatants for Peace.