We harbour many illusions about Israel and the Palestinians – all of them must now be dispelled

In these circumstances, it is hard to see things getting better without first getting worse. Regional stability will depend on new thinking, writes Mary Dejevsky

A Palestinian woman watches the funeral procession of Hamas military chief Bassem Issa, killed in an Israeli air strike, in Gaza City, on 13 May (AFP via Getty)

Watching from afar the escalation of violence in and around Israel, it is oh so tempting to wring one’s hands for the umpteenth time and despair that it was, and will be, ever thus. Until and unless the Palestinians can assert their statehood within coherent borders, until and unless Israel can feel confident in its security – goals which may well be mutually exclusive – it is hard to see even the glimmer of any long-term resolution.

Yet what makes the events of the past week so additionally tragic (if that were possible) is that they have erupted at a time when the auguries looked more favourable at least for the prospect of regional stability, if not of actual peace, than they had for a long time.

Israel was basking in rare positive media coverage as it topped international league tables for its Covid vaccination campaign. Its medical and scientific prowess was receiving the accolades it deserved. It had just held yet another indeterminate election that underlined once again Israel’s democratic credentials, while also perhaps spelling the end of Benjamin Netanyahu’s long domination of his country’s politics. Change, it seemed, could be afoot, that might make a durable peace just a little more likely.

Israel’s position in the wider region also seemed more secure. It had managed to stay out of both the political and economic shambles in Lebanon and the Syrian war (give or take the occasional unclaimed strike against Iranian interests). Indeed, there seemed quiet satisfaction in Israel that Syria was one regional mess that Israel was not being blamed for.

There were improvements for Israel on its southern flank, too. One of Donald Trump’s undersung foreign policy achievements was the conclusion of the so-called Abraham Accords, which brought official recognition from the Gulf states for the state of Israel. These reduced the cold-shouldering of Israel by the Arab countries almost as dramatically as the 1978 Camp David Accords that established peace between Israel and Egypt. The accords marked the first significant shift in 40 years of failed initiatives and stubborn stalemate.

Meanwhile the Palestinian Authority had called long-postponed elections for the Palestinian Legislative Council for 22 May. These would have been the first such elections since January 2006, and suggested both a degree of confidence about the security situation on the part of the Palestinian leadership, but also the possibility of some political movement thereafter.

Taking everything together, it almost seemed that the vicious circle of the past 70-plus years might have been breaking. Now, with hostilities described as the most vicious for 20 years, with threats from Israel to re-enter Gaza – 16 years after its withdrawal – and with forecasts of imminent all-out war, everything would seem to be back to square one.

It is a cliche, but no less valid for that: what a difference two weeks make. A couple of weekends ago I was marvelling at a huge “Visit Israel” promotion on the hoardings at London’s Piccadilly Circus that anticipated Israel’s designation as a “green” zone for British tourists. I was recommending to anyone who would listen the attractions of Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, the historical sites, the landscape, even the huge improvements in the food. How superficial, how unrealistic, all that seems now. Over the past week Israel’s main entrepot, Tel Aviv airport, has been periodically closed, after coming under rocket attacks from Gaza.

And Israel is back, rightly (and wrongly) in the international doghouse. Rightly, because it was Israel’s threatened eviction of long-standing Palestinian residents from a part of east Jerusalem that helped trigger the start of unrest – exacerbated, in an appalling accident of timing, by the annual Jerusalem Day parade by Israeli nationalists through Muslim parts of the Old City. And although precautions were taken – the court decision on the evictions was postponed and the route of the march was changed – the damage had by then been done.

Add in Arab resentment over Covid-related restrictions, the always tense month of Ramadan approaching its end, and the decision of the Palestinian Authority to postpone its elections, and the explosive mix was evident. All it then took was some customarily heavy-handed policing on Israel’s part and some customary defiance on the part of angry and frustrated Palestinians, and the consequence was last weekend’s eruption of violence in and around the al-Aqsa mosque – the third holiest site in Islam and the chief symbol of Palestinian sovereignty – with hundreds of mainly Palestinians injured. The firing of hundreds of rockets into Israel from Gaza followed – their number suggesting a considerable degree of preparation – some of which reached Tel Aviv.

But the wrong is not all on Israel’s side. It remains a democratic state in an inclement neighbourhood, and it remains vulnerable, as the Gaza rocket attacks show, however effective its “iron dome” air defences. And now a new threat has emerged that will be at least as alarming for many Israelis as the Gaza rockets, as it comes from within and could threaten the very fabric of the state.

In the wake of the violence in Jerusalem and the volleys of rockets from Gaza, the often uneasy cohabitation of Israel’s Jews with the country’s Arab minority would now seem to be at risk, with intercommunal fighting and lynching reported from many parts of the country. Just as, it seemed, Arab Israelis were taking their place in the state, with the entry of the United Arab List into the Knesset, so the always fragile accommodation could be breaking down at local level – leaving new grievances that will be nigh-impossible to repair.

The timing for such a destructive change, what is more, could hardly be worse. In Israel, Netanyahu has been unable to form a new coalition, and any new prime minister and government will be weak. The postponement of Palestinian elections highlights the weakness of the Palestinian Authority’s president, 85-year old Mahmoud Abbas. Joe Biden, for his part, has given no sign that he hopes to be a Middle East peacemaker, and his presidency has anyway only just begun. There is no individual, no personality, anywhere on the horizon with the authority to see beyond the current explosion of resentments and rebuild.

In these circumstances, it is hard to see things getting better without first getting worse, with Israel’s armed forces re-entering Gaza, for instance; new seizures of land “for security reasons”; and deepening Arab-Jewish tensions within Israel itself.

The only consolation, which is no real consolation at all, is that what has happened in recent weeks could mark the end of all illusions: the end of what has long seemed the doomed “two-state” solution, at least as envisaged at Camp David; the end of the idea, cherished by mainly well-meaning middle-class Israelis, that Arab-Israelis could live comfortably within the self-declared Jewish state; the end of international complicity in the notion that the Palestinian problem has somehow been solved; the end of the hope that Jerusalem can somehow be shared without coming under international jurisdiction; and the end – finally – of the argument that Israel should not exist.

Regional stability will depend on new thinking, and that new thinking will be possible only after these illusions – all these illusions – are dispelled.

This article was amended on 7 June 2021. It previously stated that the recent Israeli election “brought an Israeli Arab party into the Knesset for the first time,” but this was not the case.