Religion fuels conflict. It can also help put it out.

Extremists aim to turn Israel-Palestine into a holy war. But Israelis and Palestinians aren’t fully buying it — and people of good faith can intervene.

In recent weeks, my social media feeds filled with clips of Jewish religious extremists hijacking my religion, trying to set Israel-Palestine ablaze. In Jerusalem, 2,500 prayed provocatively on the Temple Mount/Haram al-Sharif. In the West Bank, Jewish terrorists assaulted a Palestinian family and Israeli soldiers, attacked people on the roads, and invaded Ramallah neighborhoods.

Though religion didn’t start this conflict, it has long been a major accelerant. “With God’s help,” Bezalel Smotrich declared, Israel would “rebuild the Temple” in Jerusalem. Muslims everywhere, said Hamas military chief Mohammed Deif, should seize “the honor of waging jihad.”

Religious extremists torpedoed the Oslo process through violence and then rode religion to power. Hamas built influence through mosques and charities before launching waves of bombings and ultimately seizing Gaza by force. Baruch Goldstein and Yigal Amir used murder to kill peace; years later, Smotrich and Ben-Gvir leveraged religious networks to win almost 11 percent of the vote, secure powerful ministries, and steer destructive Israeli policy.

These movements and leaders manipulated an environment where most Jewish Israelis identify as traditional, religious, or Haredi, and where 85 percent of Palestinian Muslims say religion is very important in their lives. Religious values are tied to resolving the conflict, too. A new AI Pulse poll found 64 to 81 percent of both peoples want their religious claims recognized in any agreement — especially around Jerusalem and holy sites. 

Yet importantly, the new poll also shows that Israelis and Palestinians understand religion is not the primary problem. Only 14 to 23 percent think the conflict’s roots are mainly religious; the most common view (43 to 46 percent) is that religion and politics matter equally. A third to a half recognize religion is used to justify positions that are really about land and power.

There’s room to reverse course. A small but growing sector of religious peacebuilding initiatives shows that just as religion can accelerate the conflict, it can accelerate conflict resolution, too.

Some initiatives, like the Interfaith Encounter Association (IEA), use religion as a unifier and humanizer between communities. Over 4,000 people a year study sacred texts together to discover common values across traditional Judaism, Islam, and Christianity. Similarly, Children of Abraham has hosted interfaith Ramadan iftars for as many as 1,000 in Palestine.

A second set of projects engages within religious communities on their terms, making the case for conflict resolution, exposing the price they pay for the status quo, and showing what they’d gain — practically and spiritually — from ending it. Elevating principles like sanctifying life and pursuing peace within religious networks helps to interrupt the spread of violent ideologies.

A third, newer stream of religious peacebuilding brings religious people into the peace camp itself, traditionally a secular space. For example, Smol Emuni, the “Faithful Left,” drew nearly 1,000 religious Israelis to its Jerusalem conference last year. Through publishing, education, and activism, it offers a way to be both religious and active for peace.

Together, these efforts aim to correct what one of the Oslo process architects called a mistake: excluding religious communities from peace. Indeed, those included in the process are less likely to be spoilers. Networks of synagogues, mosques, churches, schools and seminaries can spread constructive thinking rather than extremism.

Real political impact can follow. A decades-long partnership between Rabbi Michael Melchior and Sheikh Abdullah Nimr Darwish inspired Darwish’s disciple, Mansour Abbas, to lead the first independent Arab (and Muslim) party to join an Israeli governing coalition. The rabbi and the sheikh didn’t run the politics, but they made political courage possible. 

That’s exactly what Israelis and Palestinians seem to want from religious leaders. In the recent poll, just 5 to 15 percent want religious figures to take political action. Instead, they want them to speak to the moral and humanitarian stakes, opening the space, and leaving politics to others.

Despite its potential, religious peacebuilding remains largely invisible. Only 4 to 6 percent of those polled could name a single faith-based peacebuilding organization. That may explain why so many don’t yet see or understand its impact — and why we must do more to expand it.

In Brussels last month, ALLMEP gathered peacebuilders from Israel and Palestine with counterparts from Northern Ireland and the Western Balkans, where faith both drove violence and helped end it. As one participant from Belfast put it, “Religion was a fuel that people chose to pour on our conflict. But it can work to put out the flames, too.”

If peacebuilders don’t engage religious communities and traditions, the extremists who are terrorizing the land daily will keep lighting matches. Perhaps that’s why point 18 of President Trump’s 20-point plan, endorsed by U.N. Security Council Resolution 2803, explicitly calls for “an interfaith dialogue process” aimed at changing “mindsets and narratives.”

Fortunately, most Israelis and Palestinians still don’t believe this is a holy war, and they’re clear about what they want from religious leaders. The question is whether people of good faith — in the Middle East and around the world — will deliver.