Chapter 8
Co-creating peace
Confronting psychosocial–economic
injustices in the Israeli–Palestinian context
The Palestinian–Israeli conflict has torn the region apart for more than one hundred years and has been especially bitter since the first Intifada (Bickerton and Klausner 2004). According to reports by Btselem (the Israeli Information Center for Human Rights in the Occupied Territories), as of 31 July 2010, approximately 8,560 Palestinians and 1,560 Israelis have been killed in these 23 years. Palestinians and Israelis do not agree who is responsible for the conflict, but both sides do agree that 1948 was a turning point. This was the year Israel gained independence while the Palestinians suffered al Naqba or the “catastrophe.” As a result of that war, the State of Israel was born, and ultimately made it possible for millions of Jews to make their home there. However, it also resulted in the dispossession of three quarters of the Palestinian population, approximately 750,000 people, who either fled or were exiled from their homes. Since that time, that number has multiplied into millions of refugees, which now include their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren (Bickerton and Klausner 2004).
Since the Israeli occupation of the West Bank and the Gaza Strip in 1967, relations have deteriorated. The Oslo years brought some respite, but since the breakdown of that peace process more than ten years ago, Israelis and Palestinians have suffered more wars, terror and military attacks. There is no doubt that the violence has driven almost impenetrable wedges between the sides, which have been manifested in increased fear and hatred of one another (Chaitin and Steinberg 2008).
The Israeli–Palestinian conflict is a long-term, multi-generational conflict that has claimed many victims on both sides, led to a political stalemate, and created political, social, and economical obstacles that beg resolution. Additionally, there have also been negative psychosocial impacts that this chapter examines. The Palestinian–Israeli conflict has “attracted” many social scientists and mental health professionals who wish to understand what drives the conflict and offer ways to deal with these psychosocial barriers to peace and justice, as well as grassroots organizations that work to reach a just peace. So while the situation remains rather bleak, there is promise for a healthier future, especially if mental health professionals and peacebuilders come together to address these negative aspects that keep the conflict fueled.
After presenting an overview of psychosocial factors that drive the conflict, I will offer suggestions for opening up dialogue and creating joint initiatives that can address these barriers to a just peace. I will present two examples from organizations that are attempting to co-create peace between the peoples. I identify four major psychosocial phenomena that sustain the conflict and create obstacles to peace trajectories:
• the long-term and intergenerational psychosocial impacts of the Holocaust, al Naqba and the Occupation on the victims and their descendants;
• the collective memories, based in opposing historical narratives concerning claims to the land and reasons for the conflict;
• the development of negative interlocked collective identities that are rooted in victimhood; and
• the difficulty of the two peoples to be empathetic to the suffering of the other, due to separation, negative emotions, “us versus them” thinking and biased perspectives.
The long-term/intergenerational psychosocial impacts of trauma
The Holocaust
The Holocaust remains the chosen trauma of Jewish-Israelis (Lazar et al. 2008: 98). The Holocaust is not only “the property” of its direct victims and their descendants, but of Jewish-Israeli society as a whole. It is mentioned constantly in Israeli media, taught in the schools, and invoked often by Israeli politicians when discussing present-day threats upon the nation. As Burg (2008: 5) notes: “To many, the Shoah was and will forever be an incurable wound.”
Social science literature on the effects of massive social violence has shown that the traumas not only continue to haunt the direct victims, but that they can negatively impact descendants of the victims for many years after the event (e.g. Danieli 1998; Robben and Suarez-Orozco, 2000). Kellerman (2001), a clinician-researcher who specializes in the long-term effects of the Holocaust, theorizes that intergenerational transmission of the trauma is due to an interaction of biological, socio-cultural, psychodynamic and family aspects. The intergenerational aspects of the Holocaust are multi-level, involving personal physical and psychological aspects as well as wide societal characteristics.
Fifty years of research on the psychosocial effects of the Holocaust have shown that the victims and their descendants continue to feel the impacts of that genocide. The first studies focused on the survivors, finding that many suffered from survivor syndrome (Niederland 1968), which included negative emotions, cognitive disturbances, depression and a deep distrust of others, to mention just some of the impacts. Later research showed that the children and the grandchildren of the survivors also exhibited signs of trauma. For example, Danieli (1982) found that many survivor families with two generations had a strong distrust of strangers and difficulty coping with their past, often becoming “numb” or “victim” families, a result I also found in my research which included the third generation (Chaitin 2003).
The centrality of the Holocaust in Israeli society is evident in a curriculum that has been run by the Ministry of Education since 1988. In this program, eleventh and twelfth graders participate in educational activities connected to the Holocaust. The highlight of this program is a week-long visit to death camps and Holocaust-related sites in Poland. At least 150,000 students have participated in this program (Lazar et al. 2004a). The Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) also sends delegations to death camps, where the soldiers, in uniforms, hold commemorations and sing Hatikva – Israel's national anthem (Oz 2003).
Since the 1990s, the age cohort of the third generation – including young adults without a family connection to survivors – has become the focus of Holocaust studies (e.g. Bar-On 1995; Lazar et al. 2004a; Litvak-Hirsch and Chaitin 2010; Rosenthal 1998). The main results of these studies demonstrate that the third generation sees the Holocaust:
• as continuing to elicit strong emotions, even sometimes overwhelming them (Litvak-Hirsch and Chaitin 2010);
• as a topic that should remain part of the educational curriculum and be passed on to future generations (Lazar et al. 2004a; Litvak-Hirsch and Chaitin 2010);
• as having a range of “lessons” – from the particularistic need to safeguard Jews from another genocide to the universal need to ensure rights of all minorities (Lazar et al. 2004b);
• as affecting family relations – often strengthening bonds between grandchildren and grandparents, though sometimes causing unresolved conflicts between the first and the second generations (e.g. Bar-On 1995; Rosenthal 1998); and
• as connected to socio-political developments of Israeli society, especially the Occupation (Litvak-Hirsch and Chaitin 2010).
In sum, the Holocaust continues to have strong cognitive and emotional significance for Jewish-Israelis, including people born many years after the war, people who are not even descendants of its victims. Jewish-Israelis carry within them a continued fear of annihilation, which, in turn, directly connects it to the Palestinian–Israeli/Arab–Jewish conflict (Burg 2008).
Al Naqba
While the Holocaust remains the chosen trauma of the Jews, al Naqba is the chosen trauma for Palestinians (Rabinowitz and Abu Baker 2002; Srour 2005). Almost every Palestinian, regardless of when they were born, has been affected by the catastrophe. As Makkawi (2008) reports, the victims became disoriented and traumatized, and suffered from existential anxiety, insecure about their future and the fate of their loved ones. Furthermore, according to Sa'di (2002) and Pappe (2004), a major outcome of the war was the swift de-Arabization of the country. Not only were nearly 420 Palestinian villages razed, but there was also destruction on the symbolic level: Arabic names of streets and neighborhoods were replaced with Jewish names and Hebrew became the main language of the country. These changes negated Palestinian existence and negated their past.
Since 1948, Palestinian refugees have been recounting their stories of loss to their children and grandchildren (e.g. Armbruster and Emery 2004; Srour 2005). As a result of these testimonies, and the ongoing oppression, the younger generations share the outrage of what was done to their people and also fear the very experiences that their elders had. Srour's study (2005) provides a good example: He notes that young people in the Jenin Refugee Camp were so traumatized by their grandparents’ stories of social, political and economic hardships that they were fearful of being sent to live in tents, as their grandparents had, although they had been born decades after the 1948 war.
Because the events of 1948 continue to traumatize Palestinians, and because most Palestinians do not yet know freedom, Palestinians often sense that there is no clear psychic demarcation between people who were uprooted in 1948 and individuals born later. Children and grandchildren of Palestinian refugees identify themselves as coming from the villages that were destroyed years before they were even born, villages that most of them never saw. In addition, these younger people see the Occupation, with its infringement of their human rights, especially the right of movement, as being a direct continuation of what their elders suffered. The discrimination that they suffer in the present is perceived as being yet another sign that the perpetrators of the 1948 catastrophe continue to keep them from returning to their true “home.” As Palestinians of all ages see their land cut by the Separation Wall, and/or usurped by the Jewish-Israelis – as settlements continue to grow in the West Bank and East Jerusalem – the feeling of being a refugee in one's own land remains powerful.
The Occupation of the West Bank and the blockade of Gaza
A second massive social trauma of the Palestinian people is the Occupation, including the four-year blockade of Gaza. The long-term effects of this life without freedom include numerous psychosocial problems: feelings of instability, uncertainty and lack of control, high levels of stress (Elbedour 1998); constant fear of arrest, injury or death, degradation and humiliation (El Sarraj 1996); hopelessness, despair and shame (El Sarraj 2002; Shalhoub-Kevorkian 2003).
While most researchers discuss the negative effects of the Occupation, El Sarraj (1991) – a psychiatrist – and Rosenfeld (2004) – an anthropologist – noted that the first Intifada had a positive side. They found that this uprising replaced feelings of hopelessness and depression with pride and optimism, as people from throughout the territories engaged in anti-Occupation activism. However, for the most part, the years of lack of freedom have psychologically drained Palestinians.
In studies undertaken within the past five years, researchers have reported disturbing findings. Children living under Occupation have been found to experience significantly more traumatic events than Palestinian citizens of Israel, and report higher levels of post-traumatic symptoms, more pessimistic future orientation, and less favorable attitudes toward peace negotiations than the children from Israel (Lavi and Solomon 2005). Living in proximity to the Separation Wall has led to feelings of sadness and fear among women, to a lack of motivation to perform daily activities among men, and is associated with feelings of loneliness and physical ailments. Children have shown increased aggressiveness, and have developed a fear of the night (Nieuwhof 2005). Recent results come from a study undertaken by Batniji et al. (2009) that looked at the health of Palestinians in the West Bank and the Gaza Strip, through the prism of human security. The authors note that “the threats to survival, development, and well-being in the context of protracted conflict and occupation in the Palestinian territory” (Batniji et al. 2009: 1133). Based on the collection of data from 19 Palestinian, Israeli and international reliable and world-renowned sources, the researchers found that more than 35,000 Palestinians had been physically and psychologically harmed since 2000, providing details of injury caused by factors such as military incursions, land confiscation, torture, ecological disasters, infringement of human rights, economic deterioration and more. In general, they paint a very bleak picture in which Palestinians living under Occupation suffer from long-term insecurity and demoralization.
If life is perceived as harsh in the West Bank, then it is seen to be nearly unbearable in the Gaza Strip. Elbedour et al. (2007) studied the psychological effects of the second Intifada on 229 children and adolescents of the Gaza Strip. Their research revealed that nearly 70 percent had PTSD symptoms, 40 percent reported depression, 95 percent were classified as having severe anxiety levels and 70 percent demonstrated undesirable coping responses. In research carried out by Mousa (2009), up to 80 percent of Palestinian children were found to suffer from increasing levels of violence, sleep disturbances, fear and anxiety, depression, regression to earlier developmental stages, changes in attachment to family and community, difficulties in concentrating, and a decreasing hope in the future. Finally, Abdeen et al. (2008) examined the psychological impact of exposure to the Occupation on 2,100 school children in the West Bank and Gaza. Their results showed that extensive exposure to violence was associated with higher levels of post-traumatic distress and more somatic complaints in both regions, with high rates of PTSD symptoms among the Gaza children.
The net result of these studies is that the Palestinians living in the Occupied Territories show negative psychosocial responses that often have a physical aspect as well. As Palestinians continue to be traumatized, they link Israeli–Palestinian relations to severe pain, humiliation and a belief that the future is devoid of promise.
The role of collective memory and collective narratives
It is no surprise that the ways in which people understand their present-day realities and imagine their futures are connected to how they remember and talk about their past. Collective memories – the memories that belong to a social group – and the stories that people tell about their history, are tied to social-historical-political forces that are transmitted through state-controlled institutions and culture, such as rituals, commemorations, media and school (Halbwachs 1992; Lomsky-Feder 2004). The process of collective memory begins early in life when children learn about historical figures in schools, songs, stories and ceremonies, blending the mythical with the “real.” These rituals produce collective narratives (Zerubavel 1995) and “social constructions … that are accounts of a community's … historical experiences” (Bruner 1990, as quoted in Salomon 2004: 274).
Halbwachs (1992) and Tint (2010) have noted that each group develops its own collective memory, helping solidify roots, belonging, and ideological cohesion. Furthermore, collective memories of groups in conflict concerning their histories concern more than the “facts” (Adwan and Bar-On 2004); they also have a highly emotional component (Tint 2010). Since memory always functions within specific contexts, with certain memories serving the interests of the group, it is “contested terrain” (O'Loughlin 2007: 196) that can lead to revenge, when the sides delegitimize the collective memory of the other and perceive the other as “the enemy” (Salomon 2004). O'Loughlin (2007: 196) further notes that the memories persist even when the direct victims of the violence die off, and so collective memories of the younger generations become “memories of memories.”
Such is the case in the Israeli–Palestinian context. Jewish-Israelis have one historical narrative and the Palestinians have another. For example, when discussing the first Intifada, each side holds very different explanations of how it began, how it developed and how it influenced later events (Steinberg and Bar-On 2009). In addition to opposing narratives, each side also remembers the events that caused them the most pain. Jewish-Israelis have strong memories of the Holocaust and the different wars (Lomsky-Feder 2004), whereas for the Palestinians, it is al Naqba and years of Occupation that take center stage in remembrance of a painful past (Pappe 2004). Although Jewish-Israelis and Palestinians have very different collective memories of joint historical events, what these memories have in common is that they make for the constructions of collective identities that are conceived, in no small part, of war, trauma, loss, fear and hatred. These memories are also intergenerational in that they carry with them psychosocial impacts that affect the victims’ children and grandchildren as well (Srour 2005; Witztum et al. 2001).
Finally, collective memories and narratives are often used to reinforce strong national identities and unity, and to support the overall goodness of the nation's peoples and leaders (Adwan and Bar-On 2004; Tint 2010). Therefore, collective memories that support the themes noted above and that reflect the conventional narratives are often reiterated in social and cultural institutions, including schools and the media, while narratives that reflect the histories of minorities or that call attention to the less-than-honorable/positive actions of the people and/or their leaders, tend to be excluded from public discourse in the Palestinian and Israeli contexts. As a result, these alternative histories and memories often remain “underground,” while being systematically suppressed by the formal institutions of education and the media.
The development of interlocked collective identities
Jewish-Israeli and Palestinian collective identities are far from rigid, having undergone changes since the conflict began. Furthermore, it is an error to think that there is one “collective identity” for the Israelis or for the Palestinians. There is much in-group diversity, so any attempt to draw rigid collective identity lines will ultimately produce a somewhat artificial classification. With this warning in mind, however, we can still discern some basic perspectives.
When looking at conceptualizations concerning Jewish-Israeli identity, we learn from Newman (2001) that the formation of Jewish-Israeli identity has always been tied to territory – the land of Israel. While since the 1970s there has been a polarization of Jews between right wing nationalists who believe that “Greater Israel” belongs to the Jews, and “post Zionists,” who see such territorial claims as depriving the Palestinians of their basic rights, people on opposite poles still connect their identity to the ancient territory of Zion, though they have different definitions concerning optimal borders for the State.
Up until the 1970s, mainstream Jewish-Israeli identity reflected Zionistic thought and centered on the construction of a new Jewish identity. This identity was articulated in Israelis’ desires to dissociate themselves from the Diaspora Jews (Zerubavel 2002) – stereotypically perceived as being uprooted, cowardly and helpless in the face of persecution, and as being either interested in materialistic gains or immersed in religion. In contrast, the Sabra (Almog 2000), the new Jew, was characterized as strong, daring and resourceful, down-to-earth and ideologically committed to defend his people to the bitter end. Although this image did not reflect the cultural diversity of Israeli immigrant society, and often denigrated centuries of Jewish history (Bar-On 2008), for many years it was a powerful cultural construct that served as a self-image and educational model for the socialization of both Israeli-born youth and new immigrants.
Bar-On (2008) conceptualized Jewish-Israeli identity as going through three stages. The monolithic stage of identity valued the Sabra image and disdained all others who did not fit this mold (i.e. ultra-religious Jews, Palestinians, etc.). This stage dominated Israeli culture for 30 years after statehood, years that also imbued a highly collective aspect to Israeli identity. The disintegration stage, which began in the mid 1970s, included the rise of social-political movements that had been outside dominant discourse, such as the religious nationalistic Jewish factions – the rise of Gush Emunim (the Bloc of the Faithful) – and young peace activists who objected to Israel's practices and moralities during the first Lebanese War and the first Intifada). The multi-voice stage, which emerged during the Oslo years, was characterized by Israelis embracing diverse aspects of the “otherness” within themselves and by a great diversity of Jewish-Israeli identities (Shapira 2000). After the breakdown of the Oslo process, monolithic identity has re-appeared vis-à-vis the Palestinian other, and has been termed the neomonolithic stage.
Research on the collective identity of Palestinians has shown that this people sees al Naqba as forming the core of its identity (Sa'di 2002). However, as in the case of Jewish-Israeli identity, Palestinian identity has also undergone changes. In the 1960s, Palestinian discourse was a pan-Arab discourse, which stressed an Arab identity (Nassar 2002). The later notion of a Palestinian collective identity, which came to dominate Palestinian national discourse, was based on the experiences of refugees in the camps. After the onset of the Occupation in 1967, Palestinians began stressing their national identification, as they became very politically active against Israeli injustices.
Palestinian collective identity has also been strongly linked to collectivism (Fronk et al. 1999), specifically to family, nation, and religious group. Berko and Erez (2005) noted that Palestinian sense of collective identity is further connected to their internalized collective memory of injustice, defeat and dishonor – a finding also mirrored in Morray and Liang's (2005) study of Palestinian and Israeli youth, who found that the teens perceived their social identity as connected to dispossession, oppression and humiliation at the hands of the Israelis. These studies also reflect the importance that the first Intifada had in the self-definition of adolescents and young adults who took part in the uprising. Their political activism provided them with a strong collective identity and positive feelings toward their sense of self, both politically and in terms of gender (Fronk et al. 1999).
In sum then, we can see that Palestinian identity is tied to a strong sense of collectivism, to feelings of pain and loss, and to political activism against Israeli oppression. Furthermore, the generations of refugees all tie their sense of self to their people's loss of homeland, to al Naqba.
In addition to the conceptualizations discussed above, Kelman (1999), and later Bishara (Roundtable Discussion 2002) noted that Palestinian and Israeli identities tend to be interdependent, but, unfortunately, in a negative sense: the articulation of Jewish-Israeli identity is only possible in connection to Palestinian identity. Kelman found that each side defines itself as the opposite of the other, but also needs the other to understand who it is. As he sees it, the psychological core of this negative interdependence is that Palestinians and Israelis engage in zero-sum thinking believing that, in the end, there will be one winner and one loser.
This idea further connects to the ways in which Palestinian and Jewish-Israeli identities are rooted in their collective narratives, characterized by strong feelings of victimhood (Bar-Tal et al. 2009). Bar-Tal et al. (2009: 229) have defined victimhood as “a mindset shared by group members that results from a perceived intentional harm with severe consequences inflicted on the collective by another group. This harm is viewed as undeserved, unjust and immoral, and one that the group could not prevent.” Individuals who adopt an identity of victimhood exhibit helplessness and self-pity, self inefficacy, low self-esteem, a tendency to blame and an external locus of control. One major hallmark of victimhood in the Israeli-Palestinian case is that both peoples believe that the other side has intentionally harmed them and that they are free of blame. Therefore, they are engaged in a victimhood “competition” (Nadler and Schnabel 2006).
In addition to the painful aspects of victimhood, Bar-Tal et al. (2009) also note the psychological “rewards” of the victimized group. People who perceive themselves as victims are able to feel a sense of moral superiority, that they are entitled to sympathy, and free from criticism. The more a group suffers violence and war, and the more that the group perceives this perpetration as undeserved, the greater their sense of victimhood. Further positive consequences of victimhood include the strengthening of solidarity within the group and its ability to serve as a mobilizing factor for patriotism and activism. All of this is true for both the Israeli and the Palestinian cases.
As a final point, Palestinian and Israeli collective identities have one other commonality – their identities are rooted in the Intifadas and wars, and so both peoples often sense that they “belong” to the conflict (Chaitin et al. 2009). It can be hypothesized, therefore, that the two peoples will need to somehow change their sense of collective identities, especially those aspects connected to victim-hood and negative interdependence, in order to help reach resolution of the conflict and/or they will need to re-construct their collective identities around different, and perhaps unsettling, social issues that have been neglected all these years, after the conflict has ended. This may be another reason why Israelis and Palestinians continue to cling so hard to the conflict, and to these difficult, yet familiar, identities.
Empathy, negative emotions and biased cognitions
The Israeli–Palestinian conflict is characterized by separation. The peoples are separated by the Separation Barrier, by the division of the region into areas only for Palestinians or only for Israelis, by the checkpoints, and by the closure of the Gaza Strip. This separation is not only a physical one: it is also a psychological one. When the two peoples do meet, it is usually with fear and hatred, in the context of the conflict – for example, when Palestinians “meet” soldiers at checkpoints, or when Israelis “meet” Palestinians in sniper attacks. This separation has led to a number of emotional and cognitive phenomena that exacerbate the conflict and make it very difficult, if not impossible, for peoples on both sides to be empathetic toward the suffering of the other. These phenomena will now be briefly discussed here.
To begin with, the Israeli–Palestinian conflict is characterized as an intractable and an “us versus them” conflict (Coleman 2006; Waller 2002) in which each side believes that justice is on its side (Salomon 2004), and that it is fighting for its freedom and rights, with the victory of one side meaning the devastation of the other. It is a perspective that divides the world into two: those who belong and those who do not. It is possible to trace three main outcomes of us versus them thinking: stereotyping and prejudice; scapegoating and delegitimation; demonization and dehumanization.
There is much evidence of stereotyping and prejudice by both sides (e.g. Ben-Ari 2004; Bar-Tal 2004), even in co-existence encounter groups (Suleiman 2004). Furthermore, as Canetti-Nissim et al. (2008) note, when one group feels that the other group is threatening their existence, the threatened group responds with prejudice, intolerance and xenophobia. These negative perceptions can lead members of the powerful group to justify the exclusion of the minority from equal rights.
Other consequences of such thinking are the tied phenomena of scapegoating and delegitimation. In order to feel that it is in the right, each side needs to believe that the other group is to blame for all of its problems. For example, both the Palestinian and Israeli media often report that there is “no partner for peace on the other side.” Being able to blame the other side for the conflict makes it easier to delegitimize claims for civil, legal and human rights. Jewish-Israelis delegitimize Palestinians in order to re-assert their power (Halabi and Sonnenschein 2004) and Palestinians delegitimize Israel by using derogatory terms for the State, such as “The Zionist entity,” instead of its name (Rubenstein 2006). Us versus them thinking becomes even more dangerous when tied to a feeling of victim-hood as such thinking can lead to demonization and dehumanization and justify the worst acts of violence against the perceived perpetrator (Canetti-Nisim et al. 2008; Waller 2002). For example, in a study undertaken by Bar-Tal et al. (2009), the researchers found that Jewish-Israelis who self-defined themselves as victims believed that the Jews hold the only legitimate claim to the land, held dehumanized attitudes about Arabs, and expressed hatred toward Arabs. Sait (2004: 219-220) states that Jewish-Israeli demonization of Palestinians is so pervasive that although children on both sides suffer, in the Israeli media, Israeli Jewish children are portrayed as innocent victims of terrorism while Palestinian children are seen as “dangerous props of irresponsible parents, a conniving Palestinian Authority and desperate militant groups.”
In sum, because negative perceptions of the “other” continue to fuel the conflict, there is little hope for Palestinians and Israelis to be empathetic to the suffering that each side is surely enduring. However, instead of giving into despair, we have the knowledge and the commitment to change our reality. The following section will now turn to suggestions for doing so.
Combating negative psychosocial impacts
In order to successfully deal with the psychosocial barriers discussed above, it is important to improve dialogue between Israelis and Palestinians. Creating a safe space for communication, and sharing personal narratives are good ways for carrying out such a dialogue (Bar-On 2006; Chaitin 2004a). However, while open, honest and sensitive dialogue, especially about topics connected to the conflict, is necessary for peace and justice building, improving communication is not enough. There is also a need for joint work in which Palestinians and Israelis are equal partners. This is because people have tired of the years of talk that have not led to real changes on the ground (Halabi and Sonnenschein 2004) and because concrete projects and research on inter-group work on superordinate goals (Sherif et al. 1954/1961) provide tangible examples that a different reality is indeed possible. Before examining the issue of joint initiatives, let us first look how personal narratives can be a sensitive technique for helping Israelis and Palestinians learn how to speak to one another and deepen their knowledge and understandings of one another.
The use of narratives in group dialogue work
A narrative is “a discourse … designed to connect a succession of happenings” (Webster's 1966: 1503, and “a story or description of … events; or the act, technique or process of narrating” (American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language 1966: 873). Narratives combine individual events into a chain of events that are recounted to others. This process creates a shared history, which links people as actors, tellers and listeners (McAdams 2001). Furthermore, it is important to remember that stories are subjective and are continually reconstructed over time (Yehezkel 1995).
Personal narratives have been used since the 1990s in research on conflict areas (such as in Northern Ireland – Feldman 1991; South Africa – Gobodo-Madikizela 2004; Israeli-Palestine – Chaitin et al. 2009) and in reconciliation work between Catholics and Protestants in Northern Ireland, Blacks and Whites in South Africa, Palestinians and Israelis and between descendants of Holocaust survivors and Nazi perpetrators (Bar-On 2006; Bar-On and Kassam 2004; Chaitin and Steinberg 2008). In these settings, dialogue group participants are asked to tell their personal story of the conflict and to reflect, together as a group, on the meanings that these experiences have had in their understanding of the conflict and what needs to be done to move from war and injustice to peace (e.g. Chaitin 2004a).
In order for people to feel comfortable sharing such personal and often difficult experiences with “the enemy,” it is imperative that the group atmosphere is a safe and supportive space for these conversations (Chaitin 2004b). Such an environment encourages descriptive dialogue, which is perceived as genuine and authentic. Descriptive dialogue stresses mutuality, and does not attempt to persuade others to change viewpoints and beliefs as it respects and legitimates different opinions. Safe spaces are spaces of equality, and allow diverse ideas to be considered.
There are a number of conditions for the creation of safe spaces for communication. Participants must freely commit to the process, without coercion. Group facilitators must be honest with potential participants about the aims of the encounter and discuss plans to use the process for other purposes – such as research. Throughout the encounters, there needs to be an ongoing atmosphere of honesty and transparency so that people do not feel that they are being manipulated to further the facilitators’ “agenda.” Ground rules need to be agreed upon at the onset: all participants will have equal opportunities to speak; people will not be pressured into speaking, but encouraged to do so when they feel comfortable; and participants should avoid responding with judgmental or critical comments.
Furthermore, group facilitators of joint Israeli–Palestinian groups need to do all they can to prevent “outside” violent events from destroying the sharing taking place in the “inside.” Facilitators can meet this challenge by periodically reminding participants that they are meeting to achieve deeper mutual understanding, not to resolve the conflict. They can also set aside time for discussion of current events (Bar-On and Kassem 2004), but these discussions should be framed within the storytelling context, by asking questions such as: “What you were doing when you heard about the Israeli army raid and the Hamas rocket attacks last week? How do you feel this event has affected you?” These techniques make it is easier for participants to connect the group dialogue to their real life experiences.
Another way to create and sustain safe spaces in Palestinian–Israeli groups is by helping participants become empathic listeners. In addition to the psychosocial phenomena noted above, in the Israeli–Palestinian case, encouraging and reaching empathy is very difficult for at least two more reasons: first, the asymmetric relations, which characterize the groups “on the outside,” create obstacles for dialogue partners to be willing/able to put themselves in the place of the other, and to listen with open minds and hearts (Maoz 2004; Maoz et al. 2002); and, second when people are in dialogue with their “enemy,” they are often thinking about what they want to say during their turn, and not really listening. Furthermore, if a group member is sharing experiences that are uncomfortable for the listener, or anger the listener, empathic listening will not come easily, if at all. Therefore, it is important for group facilitators to understand that the attainment of empathic listening is, at best, a very slow process, with many ups and downs, and that there will be some participants who will never master it.
Finally, safe spaces also include times of group silence. Group participants need to learn to accept silences within the group, and understand that non-verbal behaviors are no less important than speech. Silences occur when people are afraid of opening up an issue for discussion, or when they are reflecting on what has been said, or what they are thinking of sharing. In order to help participants feel comfortable during silence, group leaders need to refrain from “jumping in” to fill the “void.” It is only if extremely long silences become the norm that the facilitators will need to work with group on figuring out why there is silence, and what can be done to encourage participants to discuss what appears to be the “un-discussable” (Bar-On 1999: 3).
As noted above, while this dialogue work is extremely important in encounters between Israelis and Palestinians, it is not enough. In order for people on the ground to make headway toward a sustainable and just peace, joint ventures in which the partners co-create and co-run their initiatives is crucial. I will now present two examples of joint civil society endeavors that tie together instances of peace and social justice building with sensitive dialogue, even as our two nations remain at war.
Co-creating a just peace in the Israeli–Palestinian context
I will focus here on two activities connected to three civil society organizations – Other Voice – a grassroots initiative from communities along the Gaza border which calls for a non-violent end to the conflict, based on justice, dignity, and security for all peoples in the area, the (Israeli) Negev Institute for Strategies of Peace and Development (NISPED) and the (Palestinian) Shorouq Society for Women – non-governmental organizations (NGOs) that integrate social-economic justice and development and women's empowerment with peacebuilding.
The work of such groups rarely receives attention – from the media or from decision makers. As a result, the Palestinian and Israeli – and international – publics-at-large know little of their efforts and achievements. The underlying assumption of these organizations’ activities is that without peace and social justice work “on the ground,” no formal peace agreement between governments will last over time. It is the responsibility of civil society actors, who believe in a socially just solution to the conflict, to undertake ventures that help construct and strengthen this people-to-people infrastructure. In order for grassroots activities to succeed, they need to be co-created, co-organized and co-run by Palestinians and Israelis, working as equal partners. Civil society groups from both sides of the border must join together to co-create the world they so desire. Neither side can do this alone.
Other Voice in Israel and in Gaza
The first example comes from Other Voice, a grassroots organization that was established in January 2008. Other Voice is comprised of Israelis from Sderot and from communities alongside the Gaza region and Palestinians from the Gaza Strip – an area characterized by massive Israeli military actions and siege (into Gaza) and rocket attacks (into Israel).
The activities of Other Voice have two main foci: substantial improvement of the relations with our neighbors; and spreading the message to our societies that the Gaza Strip and Israel are comprised of people “like us,” who wish to enjoy basic human and civil rights, and live lives of dignity. On the Israeli side, we work at breaking down the stereotypes that Gazans are religious extremists/terrorists and the dominant perspective that holds that military options and blockade are the only “solutions” available to us. On the Gaza side, our neighbors work at extending the network of people who wish to make peace with Israelis, even in the dangerous – Hamas-controlled – environment in which they live, that does not allow contact with Israelis. We stress that social and economic co-development with our neighbors is a healthy, humane and practical response to the violence that has besieged our area for too long and that we – on both sides of the border – have the commitment and ability to change the reality that is so toxic for us all.
Since we cannot meet – Israelis are not allowed into Gaza and Gazans are very rarely allowed out – we put a great deal of effort into finding new contacts and deepening existing contact with our partners via the telephone, emails and Facebook. These electronic technologies have made it possible to engage in a grassroots peace process, even though most of us have never met face-to-face.
Even though we are a young organization, we have undertaken initiatives that most Israelis – and Palestinians – believe are impossible. Our most impressive activities to date have been the holding of a three-day conference on the role of civil society in the Gaza–Israel conflict and three joint seminars for young adults from Gaza and from the Sderot region. In spite of the total blockade on the Gaza Strip, which only allows very few people out of the Gaza Strip for humanitarian reasons, we have succeeded in gaining permits for 30 people to come into Israel and participate in our peace seminars and conference. During these meetings, we use personal storytelling as their basis, encourage empathic listening, and gain knowledge and insights into what life is like for the “other.” We have traveled together to the Old City in Jerusalem and Tel Aviv and have begun two joint projects that include the opening up of a blog and the joint planning of a sight-seeing trip that will expand the group to new participants.
To many, joint Israeli–Gazan peace work appears impossible and hopeless: the separation is so total, and relations between the two governments so terrible, that most believe work on the ground is doomed to failure. What sustains our work and our hope is that we see the resilience in both peoples who have suffered so much from this conflict. We have been able to create a group atmosphere of safety and acceptance so that we can discuss the most volatile issues, such as the last Gaza War, Qassam rocket attacks, the tunnels in Gaza, the Hamas, and the right-wing Israeli government in power – to mention just a few “loaded” issues – while containing the pain of the other, and without giving up on our own beliefs and objective needs for security. As we talk, listen, and work on co-creating our desired future together, we not only support our partners, but also find that this work renews our energy to fight the stereotypes, negative emotions and sense of victimhood that has paralyzed the peace process.
Joint Ventures for Peace
The second initiative is Joint Ventures for Peace, which is co-sponsored by NISPED and Shorouq. In this program, Israeli and Palestinian small business-women and social entrepreneurs, who specialize in fields including art, ceramics, embroidery, clothes design, soap making, homeopathic medicine, law practices, and so on, are co-creating, co-producing, and co-marketing their ventures and initiatives for women's empowerment and peace.
This undertaking began in May 2009, bringing together 40 Israeli and Palestinian women – many from rural/peripheral areas in the West Bank and in Israel. Most of the women in the project are the sole or main supporters of their families. The women work in equal partnerships on a variety of products and initiatives that range from the manufacturing of homemade olive oil soaps – made by a Palestinian – that fit into ceramic dishes – made by an Israeli – to the holding of poetry events, in Hebrew, Arabic and English, that spread the message of peace, women's empowerment, and social and economic justice.
Our joint meetings, which take place every six to eight weeks, involve personal storytelling as well as non-verbal and arts-based techniques for getting to know one another on deeper levels. We often focus on what it means to be a partner, in business, in creation, in peace, given the violent conflict that characterizes our lives. The politics of our reality are addressed in the group, but in the context of personal and family experiences.
The meetings have been powerful on a number of levels. For almost all of the women, this project provided the first opportunity for them to meet people from the “other side,” let alone enter into long-term contact on the social and business levels. Additionally, many of the women have met their partners’ family members, on a number of occasions, thus extending the network much beyond the group itself. Most of our meetings have been held in Beit Jala – a town adjacent to Bethlehem and Jerusalem, in the Palestinian Authority, which can be reached by Israelis and Palestinians without a need for permits. Meeting mostly in the Palestinians’ “home field,” and seeing the Separation Wall and check points from up close, has been a new experience for all of the Israeli women in the group. All of these experiences – and many more – have opened up avenues of deep learning and reflection concerning the realities of our lives, the practices of the Occupation, and the obstacles that ordinary people, and especially women, face when trying to break down some of these barriers to peace and social-economic development.
We have had two sales in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, which were attended by hundreds of people, and our products are being sold in a growing number of shops. We are currently gathering the stories of the women, with photos of their products, for a website which will feature the project, the products, and be a platform for peace and women's empowerment. We have also written a group vision and created a business agreement for Palestinian and Israeli partners.
Joint Ventures for Peace has met many obstacles along the way – such as the difficulty in communication, due to the fact that most of the women do not know each other's language, and misunderstandings that have arisen as the women learn to navigate and understand each other's cultures, especially concerning the different status of women in the two societies. This a rocky road, but the women continue together on the journey, understanding that they are engaged in a process that, while still unique, holds promise for others in their societies.
Conclusion
This chapter presented four major obstacles to peacebuilding in the Israeli–Palestinian context:
• the long-term and intergenerational psychosocial impacts of the past and ongoing traumas (Holocaust, al Naqba, Occupation) affecting Jewish-Israelis and Palestinians of all ages;
• the collective memories and opposing historical narratives concerning the reasons for the conflict;
• the development of negative interlocked collective identities rooted in victim-hood; and
• the difficulty that Israelis and Palestinians have in developing empathy for the suffering of the other.
In order to partially overcome these difficulties, I discussed the need for reflective and sensitive dialogue that opens up and improves communication, often found in the use of personal narratives that reflect collective histories and daily experiences of trauma and oppression, and joint work on concrete projects that help break down psychological barriers between the peoples. The grassroots work of Other Voice and Joint Ventures for Peace provided examples of activities that are successfully creating – small – bridges between Israelis and Palestinians.
It is not my position that the civil society examples discussed above are doing away with the oppression and state of war that characterizes the Israeli–Palestinian context. However, the examples highlight how such programs can open up additional paths of joint peacebuilding initiatives. Such civil society actions consciously and consistently work on the creation of the safe spaces crucial for sensitive dialogue, in which people are encouraged to share their personal and collective histories and narratives. Furthermore, the programs support the co-creation and hard work needed to attain the superordinate goals chosen by the participants. In other words, the activities of Other Voice and Joint Ventures for Peace – as well as the many other projects taking place on the ground (see Chaitin 2011 for many examples of such civil society activities) – show that it is possible for Israelis and Palestinians to enter into cooperative endeavors and deep and reflective communications that chip away at the separation and the us versus them thinking that keeps fueling the conflict. Furthermore, such programs help move people out of identities based in a sense of victimhood and despair. They gain deeper insights into and knowledge of the other, gain emotional support and understanding from people that they once saw as their “enemies,” while also making headway on their joint endeavors devised to improve their lives. This helps make it possible for feelings of empathy to develop, and for the creation of collective identities that move from being negatively interdependent to being positively interlocked.
The processes recommended in this chapter are small and slow, and will, at times, regress. Nevertheless, they can serve as a beacon for Palestinians and Israelis, including mental health professionals engaged in social justice and peace-building, who wish to help create psychologically healthier kinds of relationships. Understanding the psychosocial factors that drive the conflict is one piece of the puzzle. Having the know-how concerning creation and sustainment of reflective dialogue and relevant joint projects for both peoples is a second piece. Doing the work, and learning from both our mistakes and successes, is the third and critical piece. While we may not yet be at the stage where we can reap the fruits of our labor on a large scale, engaging in this process can provide us with the energy to continue to work on bringing the day.