A Reminder that Israelis and Palestinians Can Forge Paths to Peace
Watch my Sustain What discussion of pathways to eventual coexistence, with Palestinian peace builder Aziz Abu Sarah, “difficult conversations” researcher Peter Coleman and Mira Sucharov, an expert on Israeli/Palestinian politics and culture on YouTube, LinkedIn, Facebook, X/Twitter.
Original post - The Israeli town closest to Gaza, Netiv HaAsara, was among dozens of communities swept by Hamas terrorists as dawn broke on October 7. At least 15 of 900 residents were murdered.
Those losses are now just one unremarkable data point as the full scope of the Israeli civilian slaughter has been revealed and the massive military response of Israel against Hamas in Gaza continues to take shape.
What’s particularly woeful about the murders in Netiv HaAsara is that this town is home to the Path to Peace Wall, a colorful mosaic built of myriad tiles created in a nearby workshop and added to a security wall by thousands of visitors - Jewish, Muslim and others - over the years. That project embodied a necessary precondition for peaceful coexistence - familiarization, co-creation.
The artist and mother of four who created the project is Tsameret Zamir. I’ve tried to reach her, but no surprise, there’s no response given the upheaval and subsequent evacuation there. It is a small gift to see no one with her family name among the dead (at least those reported so far).
The “about” page for the project includes a line that should resonate far beyond this bloodied corner of the world:
“Path to Peace is about tolerance and kindness to others, about happiness and staying optimistic, creating mutual hope as a way of solving problems, and the power of joint creation for a good, peaceful and safe life for every human being.”
One phrase - the power of joint creation - struck me particularly. Joint creation requires comingling, comprehension, trust and the emergence of common goals.
There won’t be opportunities for such work for quite awhile given the continuing and intensifying fighting - not to mention the possibility the conflict could widen into a regional war.
Rage after a brother’s killing
But that line recalls the remarkable efforts of Aziz Abu Sarah, a Palestinian journalist, peace-builder and entrepreneur who, as a child, saw his older brother die from injuries suffered after he was was arrested and imprisoned for a year by Israeli forces.
I met Sarah at a Global Exploration Summit in the Azores last June. I was there to speak about communication frontiers. He delivered an inspiring talk on his journey from rage and hate to cooperation and crafting a travel business with a Jewish American partner, Mejdi Tours, devoted to exposing travelers to “dual narratives” when they visit places like Israel, Jordan, Ireland, Colombia, and the American South with deep historical and contemporary divides.
I urge you to watch his entire talk in the YouTube window below. Here’s a section that deeply moved me, with the transcript:
Aziz Abu Sarah:
“When I was nine years old. My older brother, who you see in this photo, Tayseer, was arrested from my home on suspicion of throwing rocks at soldiers. He was taken to prison, was beat up in the prison, ended up there just a bit less than a year.
“And upon his release - he had internal injuries - they took him to a hospital, and a few days after a surgery he ended up dying as a result of the internal injuries he had in prison.
“I was ten years old then, and I want you to imagine being ten years old, seeing your brother being killed. I remember the soldiers who came and picked him up. I remember how angry I felt. It almost felt like if I just come down here and for no reason, I walk to you and I go, bam, bam, bam, and I punch you.
“What would be your first reaction if I did that? What would you do? Come on. A bit more honesty. What would you do if somebody just shows up and punches you?
“Yeah. Punch back.
“If somebody punches you in the face, your first thought is, Wait a second, let me take a few steps back and think about this logically? That's not what we do.
“And when you're ten years old, if somebody punches you, you want to punch back. If somebody kills your brother, you feel revenge is the only way forward.
“And that's how I felt - that revenge was the only way.
“And for the next eight years, that's really what my life was about, until I was 18 and went to study Hebrew. As a Palestinian, I speak Arabic as my mother tongue and Hebrew is the language of Israelis, which in this case to me was the language of people killed my brother.
“And yet it was in that class was the first time I met the other. It was only traveling about 15 minutes, a 20-minute walk from my home, to go to the other side that I've never been to. The closest trip possible, and yet sometimes the closest trip possible is the most impactful trip we can take.
“And in that Hebrew class was my first time meeting Jewish Israeli people. And slowly we became friends. We got to know each other - ever funny things in the beginning because we didn't have enough language to argue.
“I love something called Western country music. Anybody heard of it? Not many Palestinians love country music. I might be the only one. And in that classroom, I found a couple of Jewish kids who also liked country music. And we got along listening to Johnny Cash together, stuff like this.
“That made a huge difference for us. We realized that we are divided not by just actual walls and checkpoints. We are divided by walls of ignorance, of fear and of hatred.
“In that classroom, I realized it's not us versus them, as in us Palestinians versus them Israelis, but rather those who believe in coexistence versus those who don't.
In that classroom, I realized it's not us versus them, as in us Palestinians versus them Israelis, but rather those who believe in coexistence versus those who don't.
“Martin Luther King said men don’t hate each other because they fear each other. They fear each other because they don't know each other.
“They don't know each other because they cannot communicate.
“They cannot communicate because they are separated.
“In one of his last interviews, Stephen Hawking said, The human failing I would most like to correct is aggression.
“And this is what I decided. I want my life to be about traveling around the world, finding different conflicts, and trying to find solutions for the amazing things I found as I did that. From Afghanistan to Iran to Syria to Colombia, all these conflict zones, I found that inability to communicate, to see each other, to understand each other is the biggest problem we face.”
Here’s the full keynote talk by Aziz Abu Sarah. Please post a comment with any reactions and please share this post.
I’m planning a Sustain What conversation with Sarah and some others I’ve met in recent years who are working to create the spaces necessary for difficult conversations.
It may take a lot of time for this space to emerge for Palestinians and Israelis, given the current crisis. But facing urgency with patience is vital in such situations, just as I’ve proposed is the case with climate change and other challenges that defy simple problem/solution frameworks.
I also encourage you to listen to an interview Sarah did with Forbes journalist Brittany Lewis last week. He does a great job dissecting the politics and sentiments in both Gaza and Israel.
I also encourage you to watch one of my favorite Sustain What conversations, Pádraig Ó Tuama & Friends on Language as a Conflict Trap or Peace Pathway. My guests were Pádraig Ó Tuama, a poet, theologian and mediator with roots in Ireland’s deep divide; Irene O’Garden, a poet, educator and author, most recently, of “Glad to Be Human”; and Reggie Harris, a songwriter, storyteller and civility activist focused on racial conflict and justice.
Pause before clicking
Finally, in the rapid-fire flow of commentary, news and misinformation around this conflict, it’s more important than ever to pause before you click - a habit I’ve tried to teach and sometimes fail at. Here’s related Substack Note I posted linking to a relevant post by
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