When Displacement Kills Peace
There is a question that should trouble anyone who believes that Israel, Palestine and Lebanon can have a peaceful future:
What happens when people are driven from their homes—and the world begins to accept the new reality created in their absence?
This is not an abstract question.
It is a question being asked in the West Bank. It is a question being asked in southern Lebanon. And, ultimately, it is a question about what kind of Middle East we want to leave to the next generation.
I am not writing this as an argument against Israel, against Judaism, or against the security of Israeli civilians. I am writing because I believe that security cannot be separated from justice, and that peace cannot be built by making displacement permanent.
The West Bank: when settlement becomes state policy
The role of Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich deserves serious scrutiny.
In June 2026, Israel’s government advanced a proposal for approximately one billion shekels—around $340 million—to support settlement expansion in the occupied West Bank. Reuters reported that the initiative was driven by Smotrich, one of the Israeli government’s most prominent advocates of settlement expansion. The proposed funding included infrastructure such as roads, sewage systems and temporary housing. (Reuters)
That was not an isolated development.
In June, plans for 2,162 additional housing units in three West Bank settlements advanced through the planning process. Smotrich described the construction as strengthening Israel’s hold over the territory. (The Times of Israel)
And in April, the Sa-Nur settlement in the northern West Bank was reestablished. The Times of Israel reported that 126 housing units were subsequently approved there. Smotrich participated in the ceremony celebrating its return and described it as a “historic correction.” (The Times of Israel)
These facts should lead to an uncomfortable question:
If one side is continually expanding its physical presence while the other side is being displaced or restricted, what happens to the possibility of peace?
A map can change quietly.
A road is built.
A hill is developed.
A house becomes a neighborhood.
A neighborhood becomes a settlement.
And eventually, what was once described as temporary becomes politically “irreversible.”
That is how conflicts become permanent.
Southern Lebanon: destruction cannot become destiny
Now look south.
Southern Lebanon has endured years of conflict and, more recently, extensive destruction and displacement.
Reuters documented the devastation of Kfar Kila, a historic Lebanese village that once had around 5,500 residents. By April 2026, more than 90 percent of the village had reportedly been destroyed after prolonged Israeli military operations. Israel has argued that the area was used by Hezbollah and that its operations were intended to create a security buffer. Residents, however, describe the destruction as the loss of their homes, livelihoods and community. (Reuters)
The Times of Israel itself reported in April that Israeli forces were continuing to demolish buildings in southern Lebanese villages despite a ceasefire, with Israeli commanders describing the process as part of an effort to “clear the area.” Israel has said that Hezbollah infrastructure was the target. (The Times of Israel)
And in July, Israeli Defense Minister Israel Katz stated that 24 historic Lebanese villages had been completely destroyed, describing the destruction of between 15,000 and 20,000 homes. (The Times of Israel)
These are not merely numbers.
Behind every destroyed house is a family.
Behind every destroyed village is a history.
Behind every empty street is a question:
Will the people who lived there be able to return?
That question matters because the greatest danger of displacement is not only the destruction itself.
It is what comes after.
If people are prevented from returning, if their homes disappear, if their agricultural land is abandoned, and if the physical reality of their communities is permanently transformed, displacement can gradually become something much more consequential than a temporary military measure.
It can become a new political reality.
And that is where the international community must draw a line.
I do not want to see Israeli homes built on Lebanese ruins
There is an important distinction here.
I have found no reliable evidence that Israeli settlers are currently entering southern Lebanon to establish civilian settlements or build homes there. We should not turn an allegation into a fact.
But the absence of evidence today should not prevent us from asking what must never be allowed to happen tomorrow.
No Lebanese family should be permanently displaced so that another population can take its place.
And the same principle must apply to Palestinians.
And Israelis.
And everyone else.
If we condemn the idea of changing the population of one territory through force, we must condemn it everywhere.
If we believe that a Jewish family has the right to live safely in its home, we must also believe that a Lebanese or Palestinian family has the same right.
Human rights cannot depend on which flag flies above the territory.
Extremism is not a religion
There is another distinction we urgently need to make.
The problem is not Jews.
The problem is not Muslims.
The problem is extremism and dehumanization.
A Jewish extremist who believes Palestinians should be removed from their land does not make Israel safer. He strengthens the extremists who tell Palestinians that coexistence with Israelis is impossible.
And a Muslim extremist who believes Israelis or Jews should be attacked because of their identity does not liberate Palestinians. He strengthens the extremists who tell Israelis that Palestinians can never be trusted.
Extremists on both sides need one another.
They need fear.
They need anger.
They need the other side to commit another crime so they can point at it and say:
“You see? We were right.”
That cycle has no finish line.
Ordinary people are the ones who pay for it.
Security cannot mean permanent insecurity for someone else
Israel has genuine security concerns.
Israeli civilians have experienced terrorism, rocket attacks, hostage-taking and attacks on their homes and communities. Those experiences cannot be dismissed.
But Palestinian and Lebanese suffering cannot be dismissed either.
Security for one population cannot permanently depend upon insecurity for another.
Israel has the right to defend its civilians.
Palestinians have the right to live with dignity and freedom.
Lebanese civilians have the right to return to their villages and rebuild their homes.
And no armed group has the right to use civilians as shields or targets.
These principles are not contradictory.
They are the foundation of peace.
The real test of leadership
The Middle East does not need politicians who can explain why the other side deserves less.
It needs leaders who are willing to say:
My people’s security does not require another people’s humiliation.
My people’s history does not give us permission to erase another people’s history.
My people’s suffering does not make another people’s suffering acceptable.
That is the kind of leadership this region desperately needs.
The international community should demand the same standards from everyone.
Attacks on civilians must be condemned regardless of who commits them.
Forced displacement must be investigated regardless of who the victims are.
Settler violence must be prosecuted.
Terrorist attacks must be prosecuted.
Destruction of civilian property must be investigated.
And governments must be held to a higher standard—not given greater freedom simply because they possess greater military power.
We need a different future
Imagine, for a moment, a different Middle East.
A Palestinian child goes to school without fear of losing his home.
An Israeli child grows up without being taught that every Palestinian is an enemy.
A Lebanese farmer returns to his land and plants his olive trees again.
An Israeli family lives without fear of rockets or attacks.
A Palestinian family does not fear losing its home.
A Lebanese family does not fear that war will erase its village.
This future is not naïve.
What is naïve is believing that endless violence will eventually produce peace.
The region has tried that experiment for generations.
It has produced graves.
It has produced refugees.
It has produced destroyed villages.
It has produced generations who inherit the trauma of wars they did not start.
And it has produced extremists who tell young people that the only possible future is revenge.
We must reject that future.
From the West Bank to southern Lebanon, the principle should be simple:
No forced displacement.
No collective punishment.
No attacks on civilians.
No permanent occupation through the destruction of civilian communities.
No settlement expansion that destroys the possibility of political coexistence.
No religious or political extremism.
No double standards.
And above all:
No human being should have to disappear from his home for another human being to feel that he belongs there.
Peace does not require us to agree about history.
It requires us to agree that the human being standing in front of us has the same right to life, dignity, safety and home that we demand for ourselves.
That is the choice before Israel, Palestine, Lebanon and the international community.
We can continue to build walls, settlements, buffer zones and graves.
Or we can finally begin building something harder:
trust.
The Middle East does not need another generation learning how to hate its neighbor.
It needs a generation learning how to live beside one.
Make peace—not because one side has won, but because no child should inherit a war simply because adults were unwilling to end it.