Article
Comment
Gaza
Israel
Politics
7 min read

Israel-Gaza war anniversary: why peacemakers need a touch of doubt

Which narrative do you believe?

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

Split-screen on TC shows many different news channels in English, Arabic and Hebrew.
Split-screen reporting.
Al Jazeera.

As the focus of the crisis in the middle east shifts from Gaza to Lebanon, and as the anniversary of the October 7th attacks comes round, a look at the narratives that surround this conflict helps chart a way forward. 

At the heart of the Middle Eastern crisis involving Israel, Gaza and now Lebanon, are two very different stories.  

One of them goes like this.  

Israel is the only properly functioning democracy in the Middle East. It is a sanctuary for the Jewish people who over centuries, and around the world, have experienced extraordinary levels of persecution and discrimination. As a small country it has bravely established itself over the past 76 years as a haven of liberal, democratic freedom and prosperity despite the hostility of its neighbours, such as the Iran-backed Hezbollah in Lebanon. The Hamas attacks on October 7th 2023 were an unprovoked murderous assault on innocent citizens, the butchery and savagery of which was unprecedented in recent times. Hamas and Hezbollah both represent an Islamist ideology which has been a recurring thorn in the flesh of all democratic states, and which has taken root in Gaza and Lebanon. Israel's response of attempting to drive out such a deadly enemy from neighbouring states is entirely justified and reasonable. Any country faced by neighbours dedicated to its destruction would do much the same. Yes, there are civilian casualties in the conflict, but there always are in war. To oppose Israel’s campaigns in Gaza and Lebanon is in fact to lend covert support for terrorism, and a form of antisemitism, because it challenges the right of Israel, and the Jewish people, to self-determination and self-defence. 

Yet there is another other story, which runs thus: At the time of its founding in 1948, the pioneers of the state of Israel committed an original sin which has plagued it ever since - its expulsion of much of the indigenous Palestinian population from the land in the Arab-Israeli conflict which followed the founding of the state. Ever since then, Israel has sought to subjugate the remaining Arab population, treating Palestinians within its territory as second-class citizens. Since 1967, it has illegally occupied the West Bank and Gaza, denied Palestinians basic rights of civic equality while enabling and encouraging Jewish settlers to gradually steal land which is recognised by the United Nations as Palestinian. Within Israel and the Occupied Territories, Palestinians find it harder to get building permits, to find jobs, to be properly represented in parliament or to have opportunity for education. Therefore, it is not surprising that that the simmering resentment such treatment provokes leads to occasional resistance such as in the intifadas of the 1990s and 2000s, the election of Hamas in Gaza, and even the attacks of October 7th. Israel regularly accuses anyone who criticises its policies of antisemitism, using it as a shield to hide its mistreatment of the Palestinian minority. It has used the occasion of the October 7th attacks to launch a massive assault on Gaza and now southern Lebanon, regardless of the civilian casualties. The result is, at least in Gaza, a humanitarian disaster which will takes, years, even decades to resolve.   

Which of these narratives do you believe? Depending on a whole set of other commitments you probably resonate with one or the other. If you are more left leaning you probably favour the Palestinian account. If your instincts are more right-wing you will tend to favour the Israeli one. And I’m sure you can pick holes in the opposite narrative if you want to.  

Christians fall on both sides of this debate. Christian Zionists tend to see the emergence of the State of Israel as a fulfilment of Biblical prophecy that God would one day bring the Jewish people back to the land from which they were exiled in the distant past. Supporters of the Palestinian cause point to the Bible’s injunctions towards justice, its regard for the poor and oppressed, and to Israel’s Old Testament calling to look after the alien within their nation. Surely Israel has a duty to treat the Palestinians within their borders as equal citizens?  

To love your enemy does not mean to pretend that your enemy is a friend - at least not yet. 

So, does Christianity bring anything to this conflict? Or is it just as divided on this issue as anything else?  

One the most distinctive notes in the teaching of Jesus is his remarkable and unprecedented, some would say ridiculous call to love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. It was - and is - standard human behaviour to love your family and friends. It's more of a stretch to love your neighbours who happen to live next door. It's a whole different ball game to love your enemies. The phrase trips off the tongue as one we know well, yet how could it ever be possible for Israelis to love or pray for Hamas fighters, or the inhabitants of southern Lebanon to love the nation across the border to the south that is shelling them each day?  

I cannot even begin to imagine that. Yet closer to home, how does this idea of love for enemies effect our approach to these two stories, held so passionately on both sides of the debate? I first visited Israel/Palestine in 1989, in the middle of the first Palestinian ‘intifada’ or uprising against Israeli occupation. I stayed in east Jerusalem with Christian Palestinians and heard and saw first hand their feeling of resentment at being treated as inferiors in a land which had, they claimed, until the ‘Nakhba’, or ‘Catastrophe’ of 1948, been theirs for centuries. I came back full of righteous zeal for the Palestinian cause and would talk to whoever would listen about the injustice of Israeli treatment of the Palestinian people. I wanted people to imagine what it would feel like to know your family’s ancestral land was taken at gunpoint in 1948, to have to go through humiliating checkpoints to get to work, to have a neighbouring Jewish settlement harass your children and family, trying to get you to leave your home, so they can take the land, with little or no support from your own government or the police. And, in many ways, I still do.  

Yet over the years, and on numerous visits back to the Holy Land, I’ve gradually begun to try to see the story from the other perspective as well. Listening to the voices of Jewish people both in Israel and here in the UK, I've tried to imagine what it would feel like to be part of a people that has been hunted down in pogroms stretching back into a shameful past, including the expulsion of Jews from Arab countries in the twentieth century and the attempt of a modern European state to exterminate that people entirely. I've tried to understand their hope in the state of Israel as a place of security and their desperate need for it to survive and thrive as a place where Jews can feel safe, even as real antisemitism does from time to time raise its ugly head elsewhere in the world. Alongside Palestinian memoirs such as those from Sari Nusseibeh and Elias Chacour, I read Jewish writers such as Alan Dershowitz and people like Ari Shavit who captures the dilemmas of liberal Israelis caught between lamenting the expulsion of the Arabs in 1948, yet enjoying the fruits of that period in the present.  

I still yearn for Palestinian friends to find peace and equality, but realise that like so many enduring issues in world politics – it’s complicated. 

To love your enemy does not mean to pretend that your enemy is a friend - at least not yet. Many people reading this will have passionate commitments to one story or the other. Yet surely to love our enemies does mean to try to begin to see the story from another perspective, to try at least to put yourself in the shoes of the other, to entertain for a moment a little bit of doubt about the certainty of your own moral case.  

Loving your enemy might well be a ridiculous, impractical idea. Yet the alternative is hardly turning out well. 

It is what some within the land of Israel have tried to do. Salim Munayer and Lisa Loden are, respectively, Palestinian and Jewish Christians. Their book Through My Enemy’s Eyes tries to do just that – showing how Palestinian and Jewish Christians read the same Bible through different lens, and beginning to imagine how some form of reconciliation might be possible. Organisations like Musalaha and Telos are trying to buck the trend, helping each side meet the other and begin to imagine what reconciliation might look like.  

Loving your enemy might well be a ridiculous, impractical idea. Yet the alternative is hardly turning out well. If Israeli radicals were to succeed in expelling all Palestinians from the West Bank or Gaza, or Hamas / Hezbollah were to succeed in expelling the Jews from Israel - Neither is a solution that speaks of justice.  

It is hard to imagine any progress towards peace without something of this attempt to try to understand a different perspective. You cannot build peace without being a peacemaker – a figure often misunderstood, but according to Jesus, also strangely blessed. Whatever side you are on, perhaps you have a moral duty to make every effort to understand the other. Unless we do, we cannot begin to help resolve this most intractable and dangerous of global problems.  

Article
Comment
Economics
Generosity
1 min read

This year’s Budget won’t define your future

Dare to be generous in a time of constraint
Rachel Reeves holds a red briefcase up.
Chancellor Rachel Reeves preps.

There’s been much speculation about what Chancellor Reeves will announce on November 26, and it seems the country is holding its collective breath, fearing the worst. As a nation we’ve been privy to the disorganised to-ing and fro-ing of our politicians for a while now (but to be fair to the current government, waffling and backtracking aren’t unique to them).  

For many weeks, the political news reporting hinted strongly at Reeves breaking her election promise and raising income tax. With less than two weeks to go, Reeves decided to scrap the idea of raising income tax, which I’m sure is a relief to many. But the fact that she was steadfastly planning to go back on her word before retreating at the last minute does little to nurture public confidence.  

So, we’re left in a fog of uncertainty and confusion, with very little good economic news to look forward to. Do I paint a bleak picture?  

The real question is, how should I respond as a Christian?  

Living in tension 

So much of the Christian faith is about holding two seemingly contradictory truths in tension. We live in the natural world with all of its limitations, but we also live in a supernatural reality (what Christians call the Kingdom of God) where naturally impossible things become possible.  

One of the tensions surrounding this Autumn Budget – and our present moment – is that despite the government clearly not being able to offer viable solutions, the public’s dependence and expectation on the government to offer such solutions seems to be increasing. The result is perpetual disappointment in our politicians.  

But this shouldn’t surprise us. Democracy’s biggest weakness is that elected politicians are incentivised to say they are making decisions for our benefit, all the while making decisions that are in their own best interest in order to stay in power, offering the public the occasional short-term win at the expense of long-term gain.  

God operates in a different way entirely. He genuinely plays the long game for humanity’s benefit. Though at times it may appear that he is slacking on his promises (i.e. why is there so much sickness and abuse in the world if he is our healer and protector?), but he holds the big picture in mind. We might ask for something and not get it, but he will give us something better because he knows what we really need. He might allow us to fall flat on our faces, but he has a bigger redemption plan waiting for us. Our earthly government does not.  

In that light, we can trust God when his arm appears to be too short, because we know that he will work all things together for our good. His character does not change and His principles aren’t sacrificed on the altar of survival. He’s seen the end from the beginning, and he is committed to his purposes and plans. Unlike our earthly government, God is able to provide above and beyond what we can ask or think. He is able to supernaturally multiply meagre resources. He is able to make a way where there seems to be no way.  

The hard part is, he does require of us to walk in trust and obedience. But this is what true freedom is.   

Dominion  

For Christians, this bleak economic environment presents a great opportunity to be encouraging personal agency and creativity. This is a time to be leaning into entrepreneurship and collaboration, a time to challenge the pervasive narrative of scarcity. In other words, it’s a great time to exercise dominion to a greater degree than we ever have before.  

Considering how badly various parts of the Church have handled this mandate throughout history, it’s understandable that the word dominion might raise a few eyebrows. I want to be clear that dominion is not another word for imperialism or colonialism or any other ‘ism’ that seeks to exercise control over people. Biblically, exercising dominion means to make all of creation flourish, to create order out of chaos, and to bring all things under the Lordship of Jesus Christ. It’s what God commanded human beings to do at the very beginning of our existence, and it’s what Jesus reaffirmed in the Great Commission.  

We do this by modelling a Kingdom way of doing things that brings about righteous results. We do this by thinking differently, by being transformed by the renewing of our minds. We do this by moving in the opposite spirit to the one that is driving the rest of the world.  

Generosity 

We cannot exercise Godly dominion without pressing into generosity. This one is hard, because as so many of us can attest to, budgets are tight, our pay checks aren’t reaching as far as they used to, and it’s incredibly tempting to give in to fear and worry that we won’t have enough. I certainly struggle with this.  

The tension is: when we believe that our God is generous beyond measure, we confidently take a step of faith to continue giving. With the complete understanding that how much we give may need to vary depending on what kind of season we’re in, the truth is that we have resources to share, monetary or otherwise.  

I want to emphasise that generosity isn’t just about giving money. It’s a much fuller picture that furthers the ministry of reconciliation. By giving of all that we have and are, including our time, our hospitality, our attention, our emotions, and our power, we are inviting people into a reconciled relationship with God and man. Our generosity should ultimately be about reflecting the profoundly generous nature of God and the way He consistently brings hope and restoration where things have been badly broken.  

Our response 

It’s crucial to remember that we cannot reflect God’s generous nature without the Holy Spirit. He is present to help us discern how to make God’s Kingdom known in this fog of uncertainty and confusion. He is with us and will lead us.  

We don’t know what’s ahead; the Autumn Budget may or may not have a significant impact on your situation. But if you’re feeling worried about how your finances are going to stretch to the end of the month, God is with you in your lack. And if you’re feeling secure in your ability to remain financially comfortable and weather the storms, God is with you in your abundance.  

Regardless of which category we find ourselves in, our best response is to hold things lightly before the Lord, knowing that everything we have is from him, and everything we have is to be stewarded for his glory.  

Ultimately, our freedom isn’t determined by government policy or the Autumn Budget. Neither is our freedom determined by how much or how little financial security we have. Our freedom is found in maintaining a posture of trust and obedience, and a heart that dares to be generous in a time of constraint. 

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