Dialogue in the Second Intifada: Between Despair and Hope

Mohammed Abu-Nimer is an associate professor of international relations and peace and conflict resolution at American University, Washington, D.C. His books include Dialogue, Conflict Resolution, and Change: Arab–Jewish Encounters in Israel (SUNY Press, 1999). Nonviolence and Peacebuilding in Islam: Theory and Practice will be published in 2003 by the University Press of Florida.

The current Israeli–Palestinian reality of bloodshed and escalation has raised many basic questions regarding the value and function of joint meetings between Palestinians and Israelis and efforts to engage in face-to-face dialogue. Peace workers among the two peoples have been challenged on one side by Israeli prime minister Ariel Sharon’s policy of massive attacks on Palestinian civilians, brutal military curfews and collective punishment, and on the other by waves of suicide bombings that have shattered any belief in or motivation for peace negotiations.

 

Those of us who support dialogue efforts are thus faced with such questions as: What basic conditions must be met before dialogue can be effective between Palestinians and Israeli Jews? Has the situation in Israel and Palestine deteriorated so drastically that dialogue has become irrelevant? Or does dialogue retain a role in strengthening the long-term prospects for peace? What are the challenges for dialogue between Israelis and Palestinians in this post‑Oslo agreement reality? What type of dialogue activities are taking place?

 

What follows is an attempt to explore these questions, in the hope that such a discussion can provide a clearer vision of the type of Israeli–Palestinian dialogue needed to cope with the current horrible reality of violence and destruction.

What Is Dialogue?

Dialogue is a very dangerous business, I have been told again and again by participants and observers alike. Whether it is inter-ethnic or inter-religious dialogue, once opponents meet for the first time in a genuine dialogue setting, they will never return to the same positions or level of awareness they had before; it as if they have together joined a new society. Their perceptions of the conflict and the enemy change, mostly because of the powerful turning point in a dialogue when participants realise, acknowledge and understand their mutual fears. When that bridge has been built between the two sides, a powerful connection has been made—one that separates participants in a dialogue from non-participants. After the dialogue experience, participants have reported that they developed new and more sensitive radar for the language of hatred, exclusion and prejudice. Others have become deeply involved in actions to improve conditions in their communities.

 

Dialogue with the enemy has its price, too. One of the obstacles facing dialogue participants is the accusation that they are giving up the fight against injustice and escaping the harsh reality of the conflict. On the contrary, as this article will show, dialogue is not a substitute for social action. Protesting against and resisting oppression are still necessary for social and political change to occur. However, dialogue becomes a complementary avenue to accomplish such changes, a path full of positive and constructive joint energy based on creativity and trust.

 

There are initial principles of inter-ethnic dialogue which, if applied, can lead small and large groups into a transformative relationship that allows them to grow and to fulfil their mutual basic human needs.

 

Dialogue means we sit and talk with each other, especially those with whom we may think we have the greatest differences. However, talking together all too often means debating, discussing with a view to convincing the other, arguing for our point of view, examining pros and cons. In dialogue, the intention is not to advocate but to inquire; not to argue but to explore; not to convince but to discover.¹

 

Certain conditions are necessary for engagement in a genuine dialogue process. The Institute for Multi-Track Diplomacy has identified seven principles of such dialogue: (1) create a safe space; (2) agree that the purpose is learning; (3) use appropriate communication skills; (4) bring to the surface what is hidden; (5) focus on the relationship; (6) remain committed to the process during difficult periods; (7) be willing to be changed by the situation. These are the ideal guiding principles for dialogue. For most people who live the reality of war and violence, adhering to such principles becomes unthinkable. However, for a minority of peace workers, such ideals are part of the complicated reality of their conflict and the only path to reclaiming their humanity.

 

The above principles of inter-ethnic dialogue are often described by Israeli and Palestinian peace activists as naïve, unrealistic and unfeasible in their case. It might be true that these principles are more difficult to apply in such tense and violent conflict dynamics. Certainly, the danger of alienation from one’s own community when engaging in dialogue becomes higher during escalating violence such as suicide bombings or the indiscriminate killing of civilians. Nevertheless, some Israelis and Palestinians continue their joint efforts.

The al-Aqsa Intifada

Since September 2000, the second Palestinian intifada and the reaction of the Israeli government have fully reignited a deeply rooted, inter-ethnic and protracted conflict, a dynamic that existed for many decades between Israelis and Palestinians prior to the Oslo accords of 1993. Oslo injected new hope for real peace, particularly between 1993 and 1995. However, failure to implement its provisions and deteriorating economic conditions saw violent conflict begin to reclaim the entire Israeli–Palestinian relationship. With Ariel Sharon’s September 2000 visit to al-Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem, the ground was laid for the full resumption of the Israeli–Palestinian rhetoric of force and violent resistance. The escalation of the conflict since September 2000 has affected the nature and intensity of dialogue and peace initiatives in the Palestinian–Israeli context.

 

The “immediacy of the experience” is a powerful characteristic of deep-rooted conflict.² In their daily lives, individuals constantly calculate the possibility of being hurt and deprived of their basic human security and other survival needs. In such a reality, lack of trust and suspicion of the motivation of the other become the norm. These feelings affect even the peacemakers on both sides, as indicated by the following statements taken from conversations with Israeli and Palestinian peace and human rights activists who attended a joint peacebuilding seminar at American University in Washington, D.C., in the summer of 2002. Israelis claim that:

 

● There are no Palestinians to talk to about peace.

 

● The Palestinians have no peace movement.

 

● The Palestinian opposition supports the suicide bombing. Otherwise, why don’t we hear them condemn it?

 

● The Palestinian peace groups are refusing to talk to us, so why bother? We will not talk to any Palestinian who supports Arafat.

 

A parallel set of statements is voiced by Palestinians:

 

● When Sharon began his attack on the Palestinian people, the Israeli peace movement went to sleep.

 

● There is no Israeli peace movement.

 

● All Israelis support Sharon’s policy, directly or indirectly. Otherwise, why aren’t they protesting?

 

● The “true skin” of the Israeli peace groups and activists was revealed after the al-Aqsa uprising.

 

Denial of the other side’s fears, the urge to deprive them of their security and dignity, distrust of past relationships, a crawling back into the national womb (seeking the warmth and security of a cohesive national identity), and helplessness and hopelessness become the dominant feelings in a reality of war.

 

Israeli peace activist Yitzhak Frankenthal describes the Israeli public mode: “Israelis feel that they are at war. Granted, not a war for the country’s survival, but nevertheless a war for the safety of their children. As do most nations in times of war, the average Israeli supports his leadership.”³

Prerequisites for Dialogue

For dialogue participants to sustain their engagement and maintain an ongoing relationship during times of violence, they must be able to “imagine the other”—their pain, aspirations, history, and political and personal context. This is an essential concept for understanding the process of Israeli–Palestinian dialogue and the challenges it has faced during the last two years.

 

Alienation is a typical feature of a conflict as protracted and violent as that between Israelis and Palestinians. The dialogue process aims to counter such feelings through human contact. In order for reconciliation and dialogue to occur, Israelis and Palestinians must come together and communicate with each other by sharing stories, gaining new perspectives and creating new narratives and myths. They must come to know each other, not as foreigners but as neighbours.

 

For dialogue to be effective, the participants need to take internal responsibility for forming the image of the other in their own community. Without Palestinians and Israelis taking such responsibility, it is hard to create avenues of genuine dialogue. This effort must be constant, particularly in the midst of the cycle of violence that traps the communities.

 

It is the inability to imagine the other side that makes them “other”. The primary consequence of an individual’s failure to imagine others is the inability to know when they are in pain, even when in their presence. It is this blindness that allows people to inflict pain on others, or at least to be oblivious to their pain. Difficulty in imagining the other is magnified when that other is someone foreign, and it becomes nearly impossible when attempting to imagine an entire population of others.

 

Israeli and Palestinian peace workers, and the two peoples in general, have been stymied by this inability to imagine the pain of the other. During the last two years, the majority on each side has been complacent and has refused to engage in imagining the other. The dialogue process, however, brings the image of the other into the room.

 

The vicious consequences of violence push people on both sides to abandon their willingness to reach out to the other. For many Israeli peace groups, the world after September 2000 is a return to the habituated system of conflict they had experienced before the Oslo accords. David Newman of Ben-Gurion University captures a great deal of the attitudes of Israeli peace activists who gave up on dialogue during the current Palestinian uprising: “The truth remains that the vast majority of Israelis and Palestinians remain totally unaware of one another’s aspirations and dreams … Most Israelis and Palestinians have little contact other than … through the telescope of an army rifle.”⁴ There is no substitute for the power of the mutual acknowledgment of one another’s difficult realities.

 

It is one thing to know, yet it is a very different social phenomenon to acknowledge. Acknowledgment through hearing one another’s stories validates experiences and feelings and represents the first step towards restoration of the person and the relationship.

 

The decline in the activities of Israeli peace groups since September 2000 is an illustration of what happens to a peace leadership when it has burned out. Newman describes the Israeli peace leadership as “well meaning but worn-out activists who … failed to attract the younger, middle-class, high-tech generation to their ranks”.⁵ He calls for a reborn peace movement that can bring pressure to bear from below, cajoling the leaders to return to negotiation.

 

Israeli and Palestinian peace workers alike are marginalised by their societies and often pointed to as traitors. These experiences of isolation and alienation become most pressing among Israelis and Palestinians who meet to explore alternative actions.

 

An Israeli Jewish participant in the aforementioned peacebuilding seminar at American University in July 2002 described her feelings as the black sheep of her society. Being afraid to speak her mind or engage in the mass Israeli panic, she asked for help from her Palestinian counterparts in the room. A Palestinian activist remarked, “How can we help you if we cannot help ourselves in the first place?”

 

Keeping peace work, and particularly dialogue, moving during a deadlock, crisis or violent clash between parties requires a certain degree of devotion to protecting the right of the “other” to exist. Mutual recognition is a form of power-balancing and a prerequisite for reconciliation and peace work. Those Israeli and Palestinian peace workers or dialogue participants who have not yet experienced such a level of recognition of the other’s rights, aspirations and pain are more likely to abandon peacemaking during times of crisis.

Hopelessness and Helplessness

The new political and military escalation among Palestinians and Israelis (the leaderships as well as the communities) put the value and very possibility of dialogue in doubt. Among the consequences of the current cycle of violence is a lack of trust in the political process. Initially, Oslo provided a sense of hope and encouragement to elite and middle-level leaders to initiate joint peace programmes. However, because of the political and economic deterioration, the lack of improvement of basic living conditions among Palestinians, and the intense feeling of insecurity that spread among Israelis, most people on both sides lost hope in the possibility of a peaceful political settlement. Palestinians and Israelis stated that having experienced the failure of the Oslo peace process, they were less likely to trust the other side’s intentions to make, or be committed to, genuine peace.

 

Israelis and Palestinians, particularly those who worked jointly for peace before September 2000, have violated each other’s collective trust. Since September 2000, Palestinians have accused Israeli peace activists of being insincere in their proclaimed solidarity with Palestinian rights and of finding the violence of the second intifada (especially the suicide bombings) a convenient excuse not to protest against the Israeli government’s aggression or even meet with Palestinians. For their part, Israelis have also accused Palestinians who supported Oslo of being insincere or not seriously committed to non-violence and unarmed resistance. They claim most of these Palestinians supported the suicide bombing, or at least did not oppose it.

 

Hopelessness and helplessness are two feelings often cited by Israeli and Palestinian peacemakers. Such feelings were expressed in the media and were reflected clearly after the assassination of Israeli prime minister, Yitzhak Rabin, in 1995 and the election as prime minister of Likud leader, Benjamin Netanyahu, in 1996. The emotions were so strong that the Israeli peace camp was caught in a web of fear and evinced a political siege mentality. On the Palestinian side, peace activists were under daily fire from the Israeli military, and a general ban on contacts with Israelis was issued by the Palestinian Authority in the early period of the second uprising.

 

A central behaviour, both individual and collective, in a habituated system of protracted conflict is the tendency to seek safety by disengaging from any contact with the “other”. Israelis and Palestinians have reverted to this pattern of behaviour during the current crisis, in which the risk of meeting the other became real.

 

For mainstream supporters of peace, joint work became a source of fear, frustration and anger. Sustaining such work during the escalating violence became unthinkable for many Israeli supporters of the peace camp and highly dangerous for their Palestinian counterparts.

 

Before September 2000, there was an emerging inter-ethnic dialogue movement in Israel and Palestine, one that relied on various non-governmental organisations (NGOs) funded by both the European Union and the United States to conduct grassroots projects. After the eruption of the al-Aqsa intifada, the debate among those who supported joint peace work and dialogue became intense and the arguments against such activities were voiced very clearly on both sides.

 

The ineffective record of dialogue and of joint peace programmes is a major argument of Israelis and Palestinians opposed to these activities. However, they often construct their arguments in different ways. For instance, Palestinians stress that:

 

● We have tried dialogue and peace work for seven years and it produced nothing for us Palestinians. Why should we continue trying?

 

● We have been working with Israeli peace groups for many years, but look at our reality! Nothing improved on the ground—just the opposite.

 

● We have been suffering since Oslo began. Let them taste some of our suffering. Maybe they will wake up and realise that they have to make peace sincerely.⁶

 

Such a sense of hopelessness became greater under the constant internal and external security threat that faced every Palestinian who took the risk of meeting Israelis. In addition, it became physically impossible to break the military curfews and contact their Israeli counterparts. For example, when American University developed a programme for Israeli and Palestinian conflict-resolution and human-rights professionals, it was clearly communicated by the Palestinian group that only such activists from Jerusalem would be able to attend. Palestinians from elsewhere in the occupied territories, even though they were interested in participating, were not allowed to leave their towns or cities. (Four of eight Palestinians had major problems attending American University’s July 2002 peacebuilding seminar in Washington.)

 

On the Israeli side, few groups carried on peace activities during the al-Aqsa intifada. Although the overwhelming nature of such initiatives that did occur was humanitarian, few challenged the military policies that produced curfews and the closure of villages and towns.

 

Given the brutal reality that violently separates the two peace camps, any joint work becomes a challenge. For example, Sami Adwan of Bethlehem University and Shifra Sagy of Ben-Gurion University completed a comparative survey of Palestinian and Israeli youths regarding political perceptions and views of the other. The fact that two such scholars managed to conduct a joint survey was more significant than the actual results, as noted in the Israeli daily, Ha’aretz:

 

The other optimistic aspect is the fact that such a study is taking place. In the light of the recent events, the collaboration of an Israeli and Palestinian scholar seems like an idyllic vision. This week, Prof. Sagy left the country to present the study at an international conference. Prof. Adwan will not be going with her. He was forced to remain in Bethlehem, for reasons we all know only too well.⁷

 

Helplessness and hopelessness are also evinced by Palestinians who refused to engage in dialogue or joint activities because they believed that the Israeli peace camp had been marginalised even before the al-Aqsa intifada. Thus, as one Palestinian human rights activist said in Washington in the summer of 2002, “We are not surprised that they [Israeli peace groups] have diminished after September 2000; their influence was very minor to start with.”

 

The disappointing absence of progress between the two communities was also explained by the lack of funds to support such efforts. “People-to-people” funds were a major source of support for joint Israeli–Palestinian peace work. The funds were intended to help build and sustain bridges between the two communities after Oslo. But judging by responses from Israelis and Palestinians, the funds failed to create a grassroots base (people-to-people connections) broad enough to absorb the shock of the escalation in violence and maintain extensive community contacts. The two major reasons cited by peace workers on both sides, particularly Palestinians, were that the amount of funds was very low compared to other funds invested in the region since Oslo, and that the programmes were poorly monitored on the ground.

 

On the Palestinian side, the deterioration in economic, political and security conditions devastated the community, even the middle and elite classes who are the typical partners for dialogue with Israeli groups. Their lives were in real danger. For instance, a Palestinian peace worker who had met with Israelis before September 2000 told the American University peace seminar of his inability to leave his house for three months while Israeli tanks and troops occupied his town and blocked his house. Another Palestinian peace activist continued to write a daily journal and share it via e-mail with his Israeli and international supporters.

 

Another example illustrating the frustration and risks involved in meeting the other is the experience of a delegation of Israelis and Palestinians who were supposed to work jointly on a project on the role of religion in the conflict in the summer of 2001. Even when all members had arrived in Washington, the Palestinians refused to meet the Israelis without a clear statement from them that they condemned the occupation and recognised the right of Palestinians to live in a separate state defined by the 1967 borders. The Israeli group included two settlers, and they rejected the Palestinian conditions for dialogue.

The Committed Few

As in other conflicts around the world, despite the horror and threat of violence, there is always a group of committed peace workers who continue their efforts to break the continuous cycle of attack and retaliation and reach out to the other. In the darkest moments of the conflict, such peacemakers find the ways and energy to move on with their work and vision for peace. For such individuals there is always hope; they see no option besides dialogue and action for peace. The words of Israeli peace activist Yitzhak Frankenthal capture such an attitude: “The situation in Israel and Palestine at this moment seems to be beyond despair. Every few days of quiet are immediately followed by more suicide bombing. The situation looks desperate, but it is not. Things are difficult, but not all is lost.”⁸

 

As a result of the suicide bombings, many Israeli peace activists ceased to work with or contact Palestinians. Frankenthal notes that the “hard core of the Israeli peace camp still exists, with individuals who continue to believe that Palestinians deserved their own state and that occupation corrupts”. However,

 

most of those who used to support the politics of this camp because they perceived peace as an instrument for a better life, feel now, after Barak’s concessions were rejected, that there is no partner for peace. Terror is undermining personal safety and ruining the economy, and the message disseminated by the government, as though Arafat and the Palestinians are the only ones to blame, has crushed the peace camp to bits.⁹

 

Frankenthal urges peace activists on both sides to “work together to regain the trust and push our leaders to make peace”. For Israeli and Palestinian peace workers, the crux of the problem, as well as the cure, lies in their level of mutual trust. After September 2000, many of them lost their limited but precious trust in each other’s ability to be effective partners. For such individuals and groups, dialogue can be an effective instrument to restore a degree of trust, to allow peace work to resume in a more effective manner. However, others continued their journey towards peace without allowing the upsurge in violence to interrupt their efforts.

 

Faced with Sharon’s military crackdown, elite Israeli and Palestinian peace activists struggled to maintain simple public contacts. Even noted Palestinian moderates found it difficult to act. For example, in December 2001, Israel’s internal security minister, Uzi Landau, banned Sari Nusseibeh, the Palestinian Authority’s top representative in Jerusalem, from holding a PLO-sponsored post-Ramadan reception at an East Jerusalem hotel. In response, a group of left-wing Israelis and Palestinian officials launched a centre for Israeli–Palestinian dialogue at the same site that afternoon.

 

Israel’s closure in July 2002 of Nusseibeh’s offices in Jerusalem is an example of the risks and obstacles facing even the Palestinian elite who reach out to maintain dialogue with Israeli peace groups. In response to the closure, Israel’s Peace Now organisation and Palestinian peace activists held a joint protest at al-Quds University in Jerusalem.

Asymmetric Power Relations

Despite the mutual experience of alienation and despair, it is important to recognise the asymmetric power relations and reality of Israelis and Palestinians who work for peace and dialogue. Palestinians who support such efforts pay a high price in their occupied communities. Owing to internal political pressure (from Hamas, Islamic Jihad and various opposition groups), many of them fear for their lives, families, property and careers. After military curfew or an armed Israeli attack, it is extremely difficult, if not downright dangerous, to resume meetings with Israelis.

 

Following a dialogue session, the Palestinian participant returns to the reality of occupation (curfews, the constant threat of military attack), while the Israeli participant can return to normal life. The Palestinian, when returning from a dialogue initiative, faces enormous pressure and obstacles in implementing any agreed-upon plan of action not intended to provide for basic human needs or directed towards struggle against the occupation. The Palestinian community asks its peace workers to change the economic and political reality of oppression, which causes daily suffering through the enormous deprivation of basic human needs. On the other hand, the Israeli Jewish community enjoys economic and political stability, freedom and basic security. Israeli dialogue participants thus have more space and flexibility to exert pressure on their society, even if the agreed-upon dialogue or action is limited to education and spreading awareness.

 

Two primary types of joint peace work and dialogue activity may be discerned in the Israeli–Palestinian context: (1) dialogue through action, and (2) understanding through dialogue.

Dialogue through Action

In this type of peace activity, Israeli and Palestinian groups communicate with each other as to the best course of non-violent resistance to the occupation. They often work separately within their respective communities but sometimes manage to co-ordinate joint activities.

 

Ta’ayush (http://taayush.tripod.com), an Israeli Jewish–Arab coexistence organisation, is one such group. Through close co-ordination with the Islamic National Committee in Bethlehem (representing most Palestinian groups—Hamas, the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine, Fatah, etc.), it decided to risk organising a joint protest in front of the Church of the Nativity, despite the Israeli army’s threat to impose a curfew on the city. The army then prevented the Israeli protesters from entering Bethlehem and dispersed them using water cannon. The protest was to have been conducted under the slogan, “Freedom, Peace and Security for Both Peoples”.

 

The activities of Ta’ayush represent a unique dialogue process and outcome. Its food aid campaign illustrates the risk as well as the nature of the connections it creates between Palestinians and Israelis. On 1 May 2002, a delegation of fifteen people representing Kav La’Oved (Workers’ Hotline) and Ta’ayush left Jaljulia with two large trucks carrying thirteen tons of rice, beans, sugar, oil and baby food for the besieged West Bank Palestinian town of Qalqilia. The small convoy headed for the roadblock at the eastern (and now the only) entrance to Qalqilia. Members of the convoy describe their reception by the Palestinian townspeople:

 

From the direction of Qalqilia we could see a group of people, about 30 of them, trying to reach us but stopped by the Israeli soldiers. Among them were the Mayor of the town, a local MP, and the secretary of the local branch of the Palestinian Trade Unions. We started marching toward them but were stopped by the soldiers. For a few moments we stood there, two groups facing each other, some 30 meters apart. Some people—recognizing acquaintances on the other side—started waving to each other. The soldiers, maybe understanding the absurdity of the situation, maybe touched by the moving sight, at last allowed us to mingle. This was a much more moving scene, when people from both sides, supposedly enemies, hurried towards each other, shook hands, embraced and kissed.¹⁰

 

The mayor and the MP then each gave short speeches describing the damage caused by the two latest Israeli invasions of Qalqilia. The trade union secretary stressed the symbolism of this act of solidarity occurring on May Day, the international workers’ day. Representatives of Ta’ayush and Kav La’Oved answered with a few words of solidarity, and then the groups separated again to clear the road for the coming trucks. While the unloading took place, the trade union secretary told the delegation about the situation in the town: of the forty thousand inhabitants, many were on the verge of hunger. In the previous few weeks, only two thousand “portions” of food aid (a portion is one hundred Israeli shekels’ worth of food—i.e., around twenty US dollars) had entered town and been distributed. The visitors’ cargo contained four or five hundred portions more. Owing to the great need, and the number of organisations distributing food aid, a co-ordinating committee was set up in Qalqilia to make sure that no one got two portions while others got nothing.

 

Another group that works for coexistence is Windows (www.win-peace.org), founded in 1991 by Jewish and Arab artists and educators living in Israel with the aim of promoting understanding and reconciliation between Israelis and Palestinians through the use of mass media, cultural and educational programmes, and art. Windows believes that one of the most important ways to achieve a fair and lasting peace is for the two peoples to acquire a deep knowledge and understanding of each other and of the history and reality they share. Its main projects are an Arabic–Hebrew magazine for children, written by children of both nations; a Palestinian–Israeli friendship centre in Tel Aviv; and an art gallery, also in Tel Aviv, featuring exhibitions relating to the conflict.

 

Other examples of joint anti-occupation initiatives include the inauguration on 28 December 2024 of a “Centre for Dialogue” in Jerusalem’s New Imperial Hotel by members of the Israeli–Palestinian Coalition for Peace. On 14 April 2002, Palestinian and Israeli artists and scholars held a meeting in the same hotel. On 29 June 2002, a mass Israeli–Palestinian peace rally was organised in Jerusalem by the Israeli–Palestinian Peoples Peace Campaign.

 

Face-to-face meetings have a powerful effect on Palestinian and Israeli activists; they become even more meaningful and emotional when the Israeli army tries to prevent them by separating the activists from each other. Some groups are devoted to breaking these military barriers. When such attempts are successful, interaction between Israelis and Palestinians—both dialogue and action—is elevated to a new level. On 14 April 2001, Israeli troops blocked a group of Israeli peace activists attempting to meet their Palestinian counterparts at the checkpoint separating Bethlehem from Jerusalem. Gila Svirsky describes the outcome:

 

After some negotiation, [the soldiers] agreed to allow in a “small delegation.” Our “small delegation” turned into 30, as more and more people slipped through the soldiers and became delegates.

The delegation walked down the road and we could see the Palestinians at the other end waiting for us, and we began to chant, “Peace—Yes! Occupation—No!”. When we reached the Palestinians, we fell into each other’s arms, embraced, and kissed, even though most of us barely knew each other.¹¹

 

Two other proponents of dialogue through action should be mentioned. The Israel/Palestine Center for Research and Information (IPCRI) undertakes peace-education training for teachers from the two communities. Hundreds of educators have attended its seminars during the al-Aqsa intifada. In most cases, these seminars took place in separate uninational groups. However, when the Palestinian Authority lifted its ban on contacts with Israeli NGOs, IPCRI groups resumed their joint meetings.¹²

 

Finally, the work of the Rabbis for Human Rights group (www.rhr.israel.net) represents a type of dialogue through action that is spiritually motivated. On at least one occasion, rabbis have attempted with their bare hands to remove the huge dirt barricades placed outside a besieged Palestinian village by Israeli soldiers to blockade the inhabitants as a means of collective punishment. The rabbis were met by villagers who risked breaking the military curfew and brought them food and drink.

Understanding through Dialogue

The second major kind of joint peace work is understanding through dialogue. In this type of Israeli–Palestinian interaction, meetings are held to develop deeper understanding of the other side’s concerns, needs and perspectives. Some groups may restrict the participants to non-political discussion (religious or professional). However, the course of action is generally left open to the individuals or subgroups.

 

Such interaction is extremely helpful for people who have little knowledge of the current reality in the occupied territories or Israel. Participants can hear each other’s narratives and in a relatively safe environment gain an inside perspective on the lives of the other community. The primary outcome of these dialogue groups is an increased awareness among participants over the short term. Such encounters can also create a long-term possibility of political action and a change in public opinion. In the context of the Israeli–Palestinian conflict, interaction through dialogue responds to the immediate needs of Israelis who are concerned about the current situation and are willing to meet Palestinians to explain their positions and learn about the reality of occupation.

 

The location of a dialogue or meeting is extremely important. For instance, when Ta’ayush calls for a meeting or protest in Bethlehem, Israeli participants must assume a greater risk than at meetings where Palestinians are expected to travel into Israel. The selection of the location for dialogue can be a clear measure for Palestinians of the Israeli participants’ sincerity and commitment to peace and justice.

 

Another example of understanding through dialogue is the Compassionate Listening Project, whose organisers conducted meetings and training in reconciliation in January 2002 in Giva’at Haviva (for Israelis) and in Tantur (for Palestinians and Israelis). Training in compassionate listening is an approach to dialogue that has been utilised in the Palestinian–Israeli context mainly by various Jewish American organisations. It employs many techniques of communication and is founded on the assumption that misunderstanding and lack of human compassion are among the primary causes of conflict. In the words of the project’s organisers, compassionate listening

 

requires questions which are non-adversarial and listening which is non-judgmental. Listeners seek the truth of the person questioned, seeing through “masks of hostility and fear to the sacredness of the individual.” Listeners seek to humanize the “enemy”. They do not defend themselves, but accept whatever others say as their perceptions, and validate the right to their own perceptions.¹³

 

This type of approach has often been criticised for ignoring the political aspects of conflict and avoiding action. Like most dialogue for understanding, compassionate listening emphasises a “holy balance” in which the Israeli participants and their circumstances are equated with the Palestinian participants and their lives under occupation. It thus ignores the asymmetric power relations and structural violence of the conflict by stressing only the common human suffering of individuals and assuming that that alone can be effective in initiating change. It fails to recognise that Palestinian and Israeli dialogue participants and their constituencies live in two different realities and experience the conflict in different ways. In addition, when compassionate listening becomes the only step in the dialogue, or a means and an outcome in itself, there is a risk of perpetuating the reality of occupation, and of acting as a pacifying framework that reduces the occupation and its structural effects to painful stories of individuals’ victimisation.

 

Perhaps cultivating the common humanity of Palestinians and Israelis in a dialogue process is an essential step towards individual transformation. However, when such an outcome becomes the primary focus, participants who live under daily occupation are being manipulated to respond to the needs and views of Israeli and American Jewish participants, who also take less risk when engaging in the process, are disconnected from or unaware of the reality of occupation, and have little information about the Palestinians. In this type of dialogue, Palestinians spend precious human energy listening to the fears and concerns of American Jews and Israelis about the conflict, and then have the valuable opportunity to explain their own side. But at the end of the day the Palestinians return home to a reality of curfew with little short-term commitment for action from either Israelis or American Jews.

 

Nevertheless, for certain types of Israelis and Palestinians—particularly those who are meeting for the first time, have a great deal of fear, and know little about each other—compassionate listening is perfectly suitable: it introduces them to each other’s perspectives. It can serve as a first step to exploring joint actions for change. Finally, listening is a place to start for people who are paralysed by the severity of the escalation of the conflict.

 

A similar approach has been applied by the Interfaith Encounter Association (www.interfaith-encounter.org/index.htm), which calls for non-political interfaith discussions designed to help participants to know the other better in his or her humanity. Members of this group believe they can make significant contributions to establishing peace among the two peoples and three faiths in Israel and Palestine by avoiding political discussion and discovering the commonalities and differences in their Abrahamic faiths.

Lessons for Peace

Peace and reconciliation work is about creating mutually safe and supportive spaces for people from both sides of a conflict to meet and reassure themselves of each other’s humanity through actions and words. Dialogue forums can provide such spaces. Because of the severe escalation in the Israeli–Palestinian conflict, in the last two years such space has hardly been available. Only a few groups have managed to sustain a low level of effort—mainly those which have supported each other through solidarity actions. The overwhelming majority of the Israeli peace camp was affected by the siege mentality that resulted from the suicide bombings and the policies and propaganda of the Sharon government. Most Palestinians who engaged in peace work before the al-Aqsa intifada felt betrayed by the Israeli peace camp’s silence over Sharon’s military crackdown and were later prohibited from contacting their Israeli counterparts by the Palestinian Authority’s decision to ban all joint programmes and contacts with Israeli NGOs.

 

The sad reality of events in this conflict and their impact on efforts at dialogue provides several important lessons for peace workers in other conflict areas. First, any dialogue programme must incorporate various mechanisms for sustainability during periods of severely escalating violence. These arrangements may resemble the emergency plans often developed by corporations and other institutions to handle crises and disasters—for instance, creating and activating a phone tree and preparing an alternative communication system. For dialogue groups, such mechanisms could include plans for alternative action, safety and support.

 

Second, flexibility is needed in the dialogue process so that participants are able and willing to change the priority of their interaction from words to deeds. For instance, after Israel’s devastating military assault on the West Bank refugee camp of Jenin in April 2002, very few Palestinian organisations made any joint humanitarian efforts to bring disaster relief to the refugees. And even fewer offered help to the Israeli Jewish families who had lost loved ones in suicide bombings. During such difficult periods, change in the typical course of dialogue is vital.

 

Third, for dialogue to be an effective tool for systemic change, the process has to acknowledge asymmetric power relations among the conflicting parties. It must also recognise the separate and different sets of needs and concerns that dialogue participants and their communities might have in attending the process and embracing it. Ignoring the unique needs and living conditions of Palestinians in the dialogue groups and equating them with Israeli conditions can perpetuate the unequal balance of power on the ground and reduce the ability of Palestinian participants to connect with their constituencies.

 

Finally, in the darkest moments of any conflict there are always individuals and groups who continue to carry the flag of peacemaking. For them, dialogue is both a means and an outcome of action, justice and political change. Celebrating and recognising their efforts under such circumstances is an essential step in the process of peacebuilding. The work and experience of these core peace activists can be utilised by other groups that will emerge when the violence recedes and political agreements are reached by elites. This wave of various types of dialogue and peace activity that is often set in motion by the euphoria following a peace agreement can be easily wiped out without solid investment in the design, implementation and monitoring of the resulting inter-ethnic dialogue “industry”. 

Endnotes

1. Louise Diamond, “Dialogue: Peacebuilding through Discovery”, special paper, Institute for Multi-Track Diplomacy, Arlington, Va., 1993.

 

2. See John Paul Lederach, Peacebuilding in Divided Societies (Washington, D.C.: United States Institute of Peace, 1997).

 

3. Yitzhak Frankenthal, “Not All Is Lost”, Common Ground News Service, 5 August 2024 [www.sfcg.org/cgnews/menarticleframe.cfm?articleid=343].

 

4. David Newman, “How Israel’s Peace Movement Fell Apart”, New York Times, 30 August 2002.

 

5. Ibid.

 

6. These responses are taken from discussions with Israeli and Palestinian participants in the American University peacebuilding seminar in July 2002.

 

7. Arie Caspi, “A Survey of Hatred”, Ha’aretz, 21 July 2002.

 

8. Frankenthal, “Not All Is Lost”.

 

9. Ibid.

 

10. See “Qalqilia May Day Report” [http://www.ainfos.ca/02/may/ainfos00009.html].

 

11. Gila Svirsky, “Breaking Barriers for Peace” [www.israelinsider.com/views/articles/views_0026.htm].

 

12. For a full report on the peace education project, see the “Projects & Programs” section of the IPCRI website [www.ipcri.org/index1.html].

 

13. See the website for the Compassionate Listening Project [www.mideastdiplomacy.org/clp.html].