What to Make of Coexistence
Shared grief makes for inspiring stories, but friendship doesn't dismantle a colonial structure. Until the hard political work of justice comes first, "coexistence" is a mirage, and the peacemakers, however sincere, are normalizing the very oppression they hope to transcend.
Rev. J. Mark Davidson
9/4/20264 min read
Twenty years ago, I remember watching a video about The Parents’ Circle, a group of Israeli Jewish and Palestinian parents who, for all their differences, had one thing in common: they had lost their children to the seemingly endemic violence of the “Israeli-Palestinian conflict.” It was compelling to see Jews and Palestinians meet each other in their shared experience of loss and grief. They were modeling the possibility that Israelis and Palestinians could work through their rage and come to a place of mutual compassion and interpersonal healing and reconciliation. I recall feeling that their model of a shared humanity underneath the deep mistrust and political violence was a kind of triumph of the human spirit and a powerful sign of hope. I understand the appeal of these kinds of initiatives. I get how many people will think to themselves, “if only Israelis and Palestinians could have more of this kind of therapeutic sharing, deep listening and respect for one another, perhaps the embedded cycle of violence and counter-violence could be resolved.” At the time, I thought that, too.
But there is a problem. Good and inspiring programs like The Parents’ Circle don’t go deep enough. They don’t go to the roots. Beautiful new friendships do not dismantle the underlying structural causes of the violence. Typically, in this type of program, the historical context is not part of their conversations. There is no mention of Israeli settler-colonialism, dispossession, and the ethnic cleansing and erasure of the Palestinians. The savage inequalities under Israel’s apartheid regime are set to the side. Questions about Palestinian rights, justice, and international law are bracketed off from the central work of relationship-building. The relationships in The Parents’ Circle are decidedly non-political. People are so worn out with polarizing conversations that the non-political nature of these programs is part of what makes them attractive. I do not know if the organizers made a rule that such issues were “off limits.” But there was definitely a tacit agreement among the participants that it was better not to talk about things that would likely only further divide them. My takeaway is that this model of interpersonal bridge-building does little to advance the work of justice. This is a serious omission, because justice is the necessary precondition of a true and lasting peace. The work of justice demands facing these troublesome political issues head on, not avoiding them. Borrowing from my wife Allison’s talent with analogies, “when you’re battling cancer, support groups are important, but in the absence of intensive intervention to reverse the underlying disease, they cannot be relied upon alone to save lives.”
There are several new initiatives built on this same relationship-building model. A new book, “The Future is Peace: A Shared Journey Across the Holy Land” by Aziz Abu Sarah and Maoz Inon (2026), chronicles the shared journey of two peacemakers, one a Palestinian and the other an Israeli Jew. Like the participants in The Parents’ Circle, both lost family members in the recent violence. But instead of succumbing to righteous anger, hatred, and vengeance, they forged a bond of brotherhood when the world expected them to be enemies. As they say, “We do not see ourselves as Palestinians and Israelis, or as Jews and Arabs, but as human beings who believe in fostering a culture of dialogue, a culture of forgiveness, and a culture of peace…There is a mirror between Israel and Palestine, each of us reflecting our own rage back at ourselves. We must break this mirror and look one another in the eye to humanize the other side, but even more important, to recognize our own humanity.” As compelling as this vision may be, like The Parents’ Circle, it cannot deliver a true and lasting peaceful future. There is no way around the root causes of the injustice and the ongoing Nakba. Powerful political, military, and economic structures undergird the state of Israel and perpetuate and deepen its domination over the lives of Palestinians. Israel is ethnically cleansing the West Bank. Settler pogroms with full Israeli military support terrorize Palestinian families. Annexation is underway. Occupation and apartheid continue to deny equal rights to Palestinians, continue to kill them in mass numbers without accountability in Gaza and the West Bank. There is a huge power imbalance between Palestinians and Israelis. Putting forward inspiring examples of shared humanity elicits warm feelings and inspires hope. But it does nothing to dismantle the structures of oppression and colonial violence. Without repairing this breach, talk of reconciliation and peaceful coexistence is a mirage.
More than that, coexistence projects like these are “leveling narratives.” That is, they portray the participants as equals, when there is no equality between Palestinians and Israelis. The key is to forge a political framework in Palestine-Israel that guarantees equality under the law for Israelis and Palestinians, either in a Palestinian state or in one democratic state with equal rights for all. As contested as both of these frameworks are, they remind us that the roots of the conflict are political, so the way out of the conflict must also involve the political dimension. Peaceful coexistence, if it is possible, will absolutely involve the skills of peacemakers and healers. But their work will be premature and incomplete without the hard political work of justice. First, justice must bestow its gifts. Without that first step, coexistence projects, for all their sincere intentions, only normalize injustice and inequality.