Ireland, Israel, and Palestine: Holding Two Truths
This week I am visiting and writing from Ireland, where the echoes of a long and painful conflict still linger—but where peace has taken root. In 1998, the Good Friday Agreement was signed in Northern Ireland, marking a breakthrough in resolving decades of sectarian violence known as “The Troubles.”
The agreement, brokered by the British and Irish governments with the support of local parties and international allies, ushered in a new era of cooperation and peace between Northern Ireland, the Republic of Ireland, and the United Kingdom.
Over the centuries, Ireland was repeatedly invaded and subjugated by its larger and more powerful neighbor to the east. The British presence in Northern Ireland is a modern relic of that past.
On the whole, the Irish identify strongly with the Palestinian cause, along with the narrative of being disenfranchised from home and homeland. In a way, it’s logical to resonate with the idea of Ireland’s wholeness and integrity as a singular island. Likewise, the vision of Palestine as a complete and undivided land speaks deeply to many here. The experience of subjugation and occupation sparks a natural compassion and longing for justice and wholeness.
As an American Jew who spent considerable time in Israel, learning about the history and struggles of my people in the land—from ancient times through modernity—I was raised with the outlines of the map we all know: a whole and complete land—the modern State of Israel.
Notwithstanding my deep desires for peace and my respect for Palestinians and their rights and aspirations, the image of Israel that includes the Biblical lands of Judea and Samaria—what the world now calls the West Bank—is one that holds undeniable emotional and historical appeal. It is the homeland of my people, today and in ancient times. It is our access to life, safety, and security, our place in the family of nations. It is also our foothold in serving as a light for the world, and it is time to unlock the fullest expression of that mission.
In each case, the narratives are deeply rooted, thoroughly reasoned, and often religiously held. For Palestinians, Israelis, and those who identify with each cause, these visions offer powerful mental and emotional resonance.
In a way, Israelis and Palestinians are each victims of their own success.
Israelis, through overwhelming military superiority, have crushed Hamas and its aspirations to bring Israel to its knees. Yet in doing so, legitimate Palestinian rights and aspirations have remained unaddressed.
Palestinians, for their part, have mounted a largely effective campaign of international delegitimization of Israel, significantly undermining its legal and ideological foundations in the court of global public opinion.
The brutal scenes of the conflict—the gleeful brutality of October 7, 2023, the still-unfolding hostage crisis, the untold suffering, death, and pervasive destruction in Gaza, and the intense fighting around the region—continue to shock the world’s conscience. And so, the parties, and all of us who care deeply about this issue, find ourselves at something of a stalemate.
In Northern Ireland, a movement of women and mothers played a significant role in laying down the gauntlet and saying: “Enough is enough.” They stepped forward, often at great personal cost, to declare that the violence could not go on. Just as in the Israeli-Palestinian context, these women were determined to speak from their hearts and to push back against those who claimed dialogue and the possibility of compromise were foolish—or even treasonous—to their cause.
It is the role of the peacemaker to hold space for multiple narratives in both mind and heart. This is easier said than done. The narratives of the conflict don’t live merely as ideas—in lived reality, they are the truth. Our story of our existence is the world into which we are born, and inside of which we live our lives. As a goldfish in a bowl, its world is the water and the bowl in which it lives.
The problems begin when we attach ourselves fully and blindly to the rightness of our cause, without being willing to consider the legitimate feelings, perspectives, and aspirations of others.
But whatever our opinions, narratives, or beliefs, this conflict will only end when a critical mass on each side finds a way to recognize and respect the common humanity of Palestinians and Israelis, Muslims and Jews, and all who long for genuine peace.
Each of us has a role to play in this endeavor, in ways great and small. We all have the opportunity to extend an olive branch through our actions. And our actions, however small, play a far greater role in bringing peace than we may realize.
Whether through kindness and generous listening on a personal level with someone who sees the world differently than we do, through our choices of what we post on social media, or through developing thoughtful initiatives to work through conflict and build trust—what we do matters.
