Explainer
Creed
Gaza
Israel
Middle East
Old Testament
War & peace
12 min read

A history of Israel and Palestine – 4,000 years of history in 2,500 words

The land at the heart of the Middle Eastern crisis is at the centre of world attention again. For those whose grasp on the history behind the situation is hazy, Graham Tomlin offers a brief survey.

Graham is the Director of the Centre for Cultural Witness and a former Bishop of Kensington.

A blue and gold domed mosque sits surrounded by old stone buildings of a city.
Dome of the Rock, over the skyline of the Old City of Jerusalem.
Levi Meir Clancy on Unsplash.

The story begins around 1800 BC, in the middle/late Bronze Age. According to the Bible, a nomadic tribal chief called Abraham received a mysterious call from God – known by the name of YHWH – not another tribal god among many, but the Creator God above all the gods. He was to move from his home in Ur in Mesopotamia, in modern day Iraq, to travel to Canaan in the west - a fertile strip of land bordering the Mediterranean Sea, a land inhabited at the time by various tribes known as Canaanites and ruled by the Egyptian Pharaohs. 

Biblical texts report that somewhere around 1400 BC, the small tribe which understood itself to be the descendants of Abraham migrated further to Egypt. There, they experienced severe hardship, and sought to escape back into the land of the Canaanites, through a miraculous event known as the Exodus in around 1250 BC. 

Over the coming centuries they began to settle in the land. The biblical stories depict this as a largely violent conquest, although the archaeological evidence suggests gradual assimilation into the land. It may have been a mixture of the two.  

The growing kingdom 

Around 1000 BC, the people now known as Israel, after one of Abraham's descendants, chose a king for the first time, called Saul, but it was his successor David who expanded the Israelite kingdom, capturing the ancient Jebusite stronghold of Jerusalem, making it the capital of the new nation. His son Solomon later built a Temple in the city, dedicated to YHWH, the God of the Israelites.  

Infighting within the nation resulted in a division into two kingdoms, the northern kingdom of Israel and the southern kingdom of Judah. In 722 BC, Israel was overrun by the Assyrians to the north, and in 587, Judah fell to the Babylonian king, Nebuchadnezzar, who destroyed Solomon’s Temple. 

Most of the Israelites were taken into exile, some scattered into Syria, many taken away to the dominant empire of Babylon. In 538 BC, by which time the Persians had taken over as the dominant empire in the region, Cyrus, the Persian king, gave permission to the descendants of the exiles to return to their ancestral land. In around 520 BC the Temple was rebuilt, even though it was a mere shadow of the former building. Around 445 BC, Nehemiah, against much opposition, tried to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem, to make it a fortified city. 

In 333 BC, the remarkable young Greek warrior, Alexander the Great, conquered the land. When he died in 323, two empires emerged from the territories that he ruled – the Ptolemaic and the Seleucid empires. These empires took it in turns to rule over the land until the Maccabees, a radical Jewish group, revolted against the Seleucids and formed a Jewish kingdom for the first time since the exile. This was the Hasmonean kingdom which lasted from 142 BC until it was overrun by the expanding Roman Emperor, with Pompey conquering Jerusalem in 63 BC. 

The Roman and Byzantine empires 

In 37 BC, Herod the Great, a half Jewish-half Idumean, ambitious yet paranoid man became king of Judaea with the permission of the Romans. He built several remarkable buildings, including a new, grand Temple in Jerusalem, the one present at the time of Jesus. In or around 6 BC, Jesus of Nazareth was born. He lived, taught, and performed miracles around Galilee and eventually journeyed to Jerusalem, where he was crucified by the Romans, after which his followers have always claimed that he rose from the dead, and appeared to many witnesses. The Christian community's presence in the land has shaped it in many ways until recent times as we shall see.

During this time, Judaea remained part of the Roman Empire. In the 60s AD, Jewish rebels revolted against Roman rule, a rebellion which was crushed by the Romans, who proceeded to flatten Herod’s temple. There has never been a Jewish temple on that site since that date. 

70 years later, the Jews revolted against the Romans again, an uprising known as the Second Jewish Revolt, under Bar Kokhba. Yet again, the rebellion was put down – more severely this time. Much of Jerusalem was destroyed by the emperor Hadrian, who rebuilt it as an entirely new Roman city called Aelia Capitolina, trying to erase Jewish presence to put an end to the successive revolts, and renamed the land Palestina, after the Philistines, a seafaring tribe who had arrived in the land before the time of King David.

In 312, after an internal political and military struggle, Constantine became the first Christian emperor. This was the beginning of the Byzantine empire, named after the city of Byzantium, a new capital, chosen to rival Rome. In 326 Constantine authorised the building of Christian churches in the land, including the church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, over the site of the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ and the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem. 

The rise of Islam 

In the 7th century, Christian Byzantine rule over Jerusalem came to an end. The new faith preached by Muhammad (570-632) inspired determined armies to spread northwards from the Arabian desert. The second Caliph, Omar, accepted the surrender of Jerusalem bringing it under Arab, Muslim rule for the first time, although people of Arab descent had been in the land for a long time before – they are mentioned in the New Testament in the second chapter of the Book of Acts. 

Since the Roman destruction of the temple in AD70, during the Byzantine period the site of the old Jewish temple had been kept as a dump for rubbish. In around 690, a Muslim ruler, Abd-al-Malik built the Dome of the Rock as a shrine on the site, to mark Muhammad’s reported night journey to heaven, followed soon by the Al Aqsa mosque nearby on the same site. Jerusalem now became a site of Muslim Pilgrimage. 

In the early 11th century, tensions between Muslims and Christians led Caliph Hakim to demolish much of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, which was rebuilt shortly afterwards, but in a much less impressive format. In 1099 western Christians, hearing of attacks by Muslims on their holy places, and inspired by the idea of re-taking the Holy Land for Christendom, arrived in Jerusalem as part of the First Crusade. The Second Crusade arrived sometime later, but the Crusader armies were finally beaten by the Muslim leader Salah-ud-din (Saladin) in the battle of Hattin in Galilee in 1187. A third crusade tried to win the land back but was unsuccessful and the last Crusaders were banished back to Europe in 1291. 

From the 13th to the 16th century, the land was ruled by the Mamluks, an Egyptian military class of former slaves. Meanwhile, the Byzantine empire came to an end in the mid-C15th when Constantinople fell to the Ottomans, or Turks. This was the beginning of the Ottoman Empire, which ruled over the land of Palestine for 400 years, from 1517 to 1917. In the C16th the Ottoman emperor Suleiman the Magnificent built the famous walls of Jerusalem that are still standing today. 

Throughout this long period, most inhabitants of the land were Arabs, descendants of the early settlers, and remnants of the Arab conquest. They were a mix of Christians and Muslims, while there were a number of Jews who lived in the land. 

The rise of Zionism 

In the 19th century, the long story of European anti-semitism began to gather pace, manifested for example in the famous Dreyfus affair which took place at the end of the century. The idea grew that Jews needed a homeland, with the first Zionist conference to advance the idea taking place in Basle, Switzerland in 1897. The obvious candidate, for historic reasons, was Palestine. The problem was there was already an Arab population long established in the land. 

Towards the end of the first world war, the Ottoman empire began to break up. The Middle East was divided up into zones ruled by different European powers, with the British taking control of Palestine. The British recognised the gathering momentum for a Jewish homeland in Palestine and declared support for the idea in the Balfour declaration of 1917, while claiming at the same time to acknowledge the rights of the Arab peoples of the land. Before long, Jewish immigration to Palestine began to increase in volume, leading to increasing tension with the existing, predominantly Arab population.  

In Europe, the extermination of six million Jews in the Holocaust gave a radical urgency to the need for a homeland where Jewish people could feel safe. Many European Jews fled to Palestine, hoping to find a home and safety there. The British found themselves increasingly caught in the middle of violent and deadly clashes between Arab and Jewish groups. Underground Jewish militia sometimes targeted the British, such as in the 1946 bombing of the King David Hotel, the British headquarters in Palestine, by the Irgun, a Jewish militant group, which killed 91 people, most of them British soldiers. 

Recognising their position was untenable, the British decided to withdraw from Palestine. In November 1947 the United Nations adopted Resolution 181, a proposal to partition the land into Jewish and Arab states of roughly equal size, although the Jewish territory was larger than the Arab one. The Arabs refused to accept the plan, as they felt they were the rightful owners of the land, and the Jews were newcomers.  

When the British Mandate over Palestine came to an end in 1948, almost immediately, the Jews declared the creation of the State of Israel. Surrounding Arab countries immediately attacked the new state, but Jewish forces resisted successfully, and, under the leadership of David Ben Gurion, Jewish groups started to occupy Arab towns and cities, removing much of the Arab population, who for the most part were forced to leave. When this Arab-Israeli war finished, the new Jewish state held about 75 per cent of the land of Palestine, though with a significant Arab population still present within Israel. Around 700,000 Palestinian former residents became refugees, either in camps within Israel, or in surrounding countries such as Jordan, Syria or Lebanon. This period is known by the Israelis as the War of Independence, but by the Arabs as the Nakba – the catastrophe.

Israel as a nation grew and prospered. After a period of increasing tension between Israel and the surrounding Arab states of Egypt, Syria and Jordan, in 1967, to establish a buffer between themselves and their Arab neighbours, Israel issued a series of successful pre-emptive strikes, and after just six days, had occupied the Sinai Peninsula, formerly Egyptian territory, the Golan Heights belonging to Syria, and the West Bank of the river Jordan, including East Jerusalem, which had been under Jordanian rule.  

UN Resolution 242 urged Israel to surrender the land that had been occupied. Instead, Israel began to build Jewish settlements in the West Bank and Gaza, enclaves where Jewish people lived within the territories, although these were regarded as illegal under international law. Settlement building has increased in recent years under more recent Israeli governments and remains one of the points of tension - Jewish settlements built on land that could in future become part of a Palestinian state, if one ever came into being.

In 1973, the boot was on the other foot as Egypt launched a strike on Israel on the festival of Yom Kippur, which, although ultimately beaten back by the Israelis, dented Israel’s sense of invulnerability to attack from their neighbours.  

International pressure to resolve the long-running tension began to mount, and in 1978, under the mediation of US President Jimmy Carter, the Camp David accords were signed by Anwar Sadat, President of Egypt and Menachem Begin, Prime Minister of Israel, establishing peace between the two nations. This was seen by militant Muslims as treachery and Sadat was assassinated by Egyptian Islamic Jihad in 1981.  

Nonetheless, Israel withdrew from Sinai as promised, in 1982. Even though peace was established with Egypt, this did not bring an equivalent sense of harmony within the other occupied territories, particularly the West Bank. In the 1960s and 70s, Palestinian groups had carried out a campaign of attacks on Israel and Israeli targets abroad including the notorious attack on Israeli athletes at the Munich Olympics in 1972, yet these had largely ceased by the late 70s. From 1987 to 1993, a Palestinian uprising against what they saw as Israeli occupation of their land, known as the first intifada increased tension across the region. As a result, secret talks between Israeli and Palestinian officials led to the Oslo Accords of 1993, signed by Yitzhak Rabin and Yasser Arafat, in which Arafat’s Palestinian Liberation Organisation recognised the state of Israel and Israel gave up land in Gaza and the West Bank to the limited control of a Palestinian Authority, although with still some element of Israeli influence and control. Just as Sadat had been assassinated for what was seen as surrender on the Arab side in 1981, Rabin was assassinated by a Jewish extremist in 1995 for what was seen as a betrayal of the Israeli cause. 

The 21st century 

What was meant to be a peace process rolled on. The Camp David meeting in 2000, which was expected to bring about further progress for the Palestinian cause failed to do so and triggered the second intifada which lasted until 2005, much more violent and deadly than the first, with Palestinian suicide bombings in Israel and Israeli retaliation in the West Bank and Gaza. To stop incursions from Arabs into Israeli territory, the Israelis proposed building what they called a Security Wall, but as the Wall of Separation by the Palestinians, who felt that the wall was effectively a land grab, as at points, it stretched into land which hitherto had been traditionally part of the West Bank. 

In 2005, Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon decided to withdraw troops and settlements from Gaza, yet in 2007, the Islamic militant organisation Hamas took over control of Gaza in a brief war with Fatah, the Palestinian party who had held control until this point. Hamas, unlike the PLO or Fatah, remained dedicated to the elimination of Israel and thus became a dangerous neighbour to Israel. In 2014, in a period of rising tension, Hamas rocket attacks into Israel provoked Israeli air strikes and a ground invasion. In this war, around 67 Israelis and around 2000 Palestinians died. 

In 2017, President Donald Trump recognised Jerusalem as the capital of Israel, something which had not happened before as Jerusalem had always been a divided city and claimed by both sides as their capital city. 

In recent years Israel has sought to normalise relationships with Arab states, signing the Abrahamic Accords in 2020 with Bahrain, the UAE, and Morocco, with a possible deal with Saudi Arabia tentatively on the way. 

The Hamas attacks on southern Israel in 2023 and the Israeli response in Gaza will have set back any progress in resolving this long-running tragedy for many years, in what is a familiar pattern of attack and retaliation. 

The history is tangled, much more complex than outlined in a brief survey like this. Any attempt to understand the present needs to engage with the history of this fertile, fought-over and precious land, home to two great peoples with contested, but deep roots in the land, who we pray will one day be able to live together in peace – the peace brought and taught by the Prince of Peace.  

Review
Culture
Film & TV
9 min read

Deadpool and Wolverine admit there’s only one story worth telling

Here's why a knowing take on post-modernity's void strikes a chord.

James is Canon Missioner at Blackburn Cathedral. He researches technology and theology at Oxford University.

Two superheroes, deadpool and Wolverine, stand and crouch respectively, in a desert like place.
'A desert of criticism and a wasteland of cynicism.'
Disney.

Can Marvel Jesus save a dying cinematic universe? That's the key question for the latest film from Marvel Studios and, it would seem at least from the box office, that the answer is: yes!  

Deadpool & Wolverine, the snarky buddy comedy odd-ball team-up between Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman, made over $590 million in its first week. That’s the sixth biggest opening of all time. 

What follows is not a traditional review, you can find plenty of those online already. Instead, I want us to consider Deadpool & Wolverine as a cultural artefact that displays some of the key themes of our society. The stories that we tell, including the films that Hollywood produces, can act as a mirror to our culture, giving us an opportunity to see trends that we might have otherwise missed.  

As a mirror to this cultural moment, I want to suggest that Deadpool & Wolverine presents us with a cynical and nihilistic take on the end of an era in which all the protagonists can do is barrage the audience with an endless stream of jokes and quips. 

The third instalment of the Deadpool trilogy is the first to be set in the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) since Disney acquired the rights to 20th Century Fox for $71.3 billion. Until now all the X-men movies, the Wolverine movies, the prequels and the Deadpool movies have been produced by 20th Century Fox. But it’s the start of a new chapter for the X-men franchise.  

The Disney executives hope for a new lease of life for the MCU, which has been struggling to find its way ever since the epic conclusion to Avengers: End Game. Of course, ordinarily, this sort of corporate back and forth would be irrelevant when thinking about the themes of a movie, but, in this case, the business backdrop is effectively a major plot-point of the film. 

A significant portion of the dialogue is spent discussing the acquisition of the X-men franchise by Disney. Deadpool talks about what Kevin Feige (president of Marvel Studios) will and won’t allow in his films. A major action set-piece takes place next to a ruin of the 20th Century Fox logo. Deadpool jokes with Wolverine that he is joined the MCU when they are in a bit of a slump, and, when Deadpool is asked to save the universe, he takes this to mean that he should save the entire MCU franchise describing himself as ‘Marvel Jesus’. The movie knows that this film is the product of a business deal, and it wants its audience to know that too. 

So, this film takes place at the end of an era and to highlight this throughout the film, a series of high-profile cameos are made by actors and characters from the last 24 years (no spoilers here). They are brought into the movie so that they might be given a final send off. A heroic on camera action hero death, one last valiant fight before the curtain falls. In a sense, Deadpool & Wolverine is a eulogy to the comic film industry, an era has passed away, we live only in the ruins of a once great edifice and all we can do is joke around and reminisce about the good old days

Deadpool’s is a dark humour, laughing death in the face, traipsing around the trash heap at the end of time incessantly spouting one-liners. 

The scepticism Deadpool and Wolverine exhibits about the movie industry, correlates neatly with a post-modern disposition to be suspicious about the role of power. Deadpool knows, and points out to his audience, that it is only the vested interests of corporate power that allow this film to take place, and he revels with delight when these corporations seem to be failing. He is under no illusions that the studios are benign entities who merely hope to make worthwhile art - Deadpool is a cynic, the jester, who takes great satisfaction in declaring that the emperor has no clothes.  

Coupled with this is the constant breaking of the fourth wall. This is one of Deadpool’s foundational characteristics, he has been breaking the fourth wall since his earliest appearance in the comics and the previous two films. Deadpool uses this ability to deconstruct and point out some of the quirks of the superhero genre. For example, in the first film when a villain jumps into the scene from a great height, Deadpool says to the audience: “Superhero landing. She's gonna do a superhero landing… You know, that's really hard on your knees.” (This joke is repeated in Deadpool & Wolverine)

The deconstructionist tone contrasts sharply with Marvel’s previous movies, particularly the grand narrative which spanned 22 films and culminated in Avengers: Endgame- an unashamed mythic narrative about the defeat of evil and the triumph of good over bad. Yes, there were jokes and subversive elements in the MCU before Deadpool, but in the main the characters like Captain America are sincere and the movie takes them and their motivations seriously. Deadpool in contrast delights in deconstructing the narrative: Marvel’s grand narrative is over, Fox’s cinematic universe is over, and it is unclear if they will be able to successfully tell another epic mythic story. 

All of this, I imagine, sounds quite dystopian and that is not just how the film feels but also serves as the set piece for the middle section of the story. The misadventure of Deadpool & Wolverine lands both characters in “the void at the end of time” a place described as a Mad Max set, a barren desert where only the strongest survive by dominating the weak. In this hellish environment, Deadpool is completely unphased, he continues to make joke after joke, despite multiple characters in the movie telling him to ‘shut up’, and he displays zero remorse when his joking around results in other characters being killed. The humour of this film is the final element which makes it feel very post-modern and nihilistic. Deadpool and Wolverine are left in a hellscape and all they can do is fight with one another and make non-stop sarcastic quips. Deadpool’s is a dark humour, laughing death in the face, traipsing around the trash heap at the end of time incessantly spouting one-liners. 

Paul Ricoeur, the French Christian and philosopher describes in his work two instincts in modernity: a ‘willingness to listen’ and a ‘willingness to suspect.’ The willingness to suspect is best exemplified by the three ‘masters of suspicion’, Karl Marx, Friedrich Nietzsche and Sigmund Freud. Following these masters of suspicion, modernity has learnt to be critical and to criticise texts, narratives, motives and power. Ricoeur thinks that we need both instincts, we need to be able to listen and we should be able to suspect, but, he cautions post-modern society that it is possible to find yourself in a desert of criticism in which there is nothing symbolic, nothing sacred, nothing but power and will. I have never seen a better depiction of the ‘desert of criticism’ put to film than Deadpool’s void at the end of time. 

Perhaps the film is doing this because this is, in fact, the only story worth telling.

All of this was bubbling around in the back of my head when the film came to its final climax. It is my experience of the finale that made me want to write this review of the film. After almost two hours of post-modern nihilism, in the denouement, our two protagonists are faced with the classic superhero choice to sacrifice themselves so that they can save their universe from imminent destruction. And, of course, like good superheroes, they go willingly into danger and give up their lives for the sake of their friends. 

I had such a strange set of emotions as I watched this part of the story unfold. 

Firstly, I thought “Oh, right, this is the moment when the hero sacrifices himself- that is obviously what comes next.” I have been conditioned by decades of superhero films to expect this sequence of events at the end of the movie. But secondly, I found myself thinking. “This is so out of place with the rest of the film, this is pure sentimental heroics, we’ve just had two hours of cynicism and fourth wall breaking and the climax of the whole thing is a traditional superhero ending?!” And then, lastly, I found myself wonderful, ‘Perhaps the film is doing this because this is, in fact, the only story worth telling- that everything up to this point has only been playing at cynicism because, at a fundamental level, the filmmakers realise that cynicism and scepticism aren’t enough to make a compelling story.” 

Western society feels as if it has lost its narrative. It is as if, just like the MCU, our best story is behind us, and we are flailing to find a new story. 

Deadpool & Wolverine is a strikingly resonant film, it has struck a chord with contemporary culture. The film offers us a mirror to the contemporary society in which we live and I think we must look deeply into the mirror if we are going to accurately diagnose the ills of our current cultural moment.  

Many people today feel like they are living in a desert at the end of time, devoid of meaningful symbolism and sustenance for the soul. The hollowing out of meaning in post-modern Western culture has resulted in a tinderbox which is ready to combust at a moment's notice. “Over the last month we have seen riots breakout across England caused by an incident in Southport that sent sparks flying.”. Relatedly, contemporary Western society feels as if it has lost its narrative. It is as if, just like the MCU, our best story is behind us, and we are flailing to find a new story. Look at the average Netflix viewing figures to discover that many of us only enjoy watching re-runs of our favourite TV shows from 10 years ago. 

The cynicism and scepticism of Deadpool & Wolverine resonates with many people in the contemporary West, and the film offers two ways of reacting to the pain of our cultural moment.  

For most of the film Deadpool saunters through this nihilistic hellscape spouting a barrage of gags, sex-jokes and sarcastic quips- that is the first option, to laugh in the face of meaninglessness. But for the climax of the movie, it’s as if the writers knew that they couldn’t maintain the ruse. When the characters of Deadpool and Wolverine make the choice to sacrifice themselves for the sake of others they choose to live for something bigger than themselves. They admit in their actions that they aren’t the nihilists they were pretending to be, and the film acknowledges that in the final analysis there is nothing ultimately satisfying, nothing ultimately sustaining, in that way of being in the world. 

Or, to put it another way, the only way that Deadpool could become ‘Marvel Jesus’ is by following in the footsteps of actual Jesus: by sacrificing his life for those whom he loved and by discovering that true life, resurrection life, is always and only ever found on the far side of death. 

Paul Ricoeur writes that ‘beyond the desert of criticism, we wish to be called again’, called to a second, or post-critical naïveté. Naivete is a deliberately provocative term to use, no one wants to be considered naïve (even postcritically naïve!), so perhaps you might prefer to think of it as synonymous with restored or as experiencing a recollection of meaning. I think many people in the West today are waking up to the challenge of living in a desert of criticism and a wasteland of cynicism. The capacity to criticise is an important skill, but it has run rampant and left out society with a void of meaning in which nothing is sacred, nothing is enchanted. 

Deadpool & Wolverine speaks of a culture desperately in need of a new story, a narrative within which meaning can be found. The film paints in vivid imagery the result of a society that has lost its narrative. And, in the end, Deadpool and Wolverine seems to admit that there is only one story worth telling: self-sacrificial death and resurrection.