‘I’m bored, so I shoot’: The Israeli army’s approval of free-for-all violence in Gaza

Israeli soldiers describe the near-total absence of firing regulations in the Gaza war, with troops shooting as they please, setting homes ablaze, and leaving corpses on the streets — all with their commanders’ permission.

In partnership with

In early June, Al Jazeera aired a series of disturbing videos revealing what it described as “summary executions”: Israeli soldiers shooting dead several Palestinians walking near the coastal road in the Gaza Strip, on three separate occasions. In each case, the Palestinians appeared unarmed and did not pose any imminent threat to the soldiers.

Such footage is rare, due to the severe constraints faced by journalists in the besieged enclave and the constant danger to their lives. But these executions, which did not appear to have any security rationale, are consistent with the testimonies of six Israeli soldiers who spoke to +972 Magazine and Local Call following their release from active duty in Gaza in recent months. Corroborating the testimonies of Palestinian eyewitnesses and doctors throughout the war, the soldiers described being authorized to open fire on Palestinians virtually at will, including civilians.

The six sources — all except one of whom spoke on the condition of anonymity — recounted how Israeli soldiers routinely executed Palestinian civilians simply because they entered an area that the military defined as a “no-go zone.” The testimonies paint a picture of a landscape littered with civilian corpses, which are left to rot or be eaten by stray animals; the army only hides them from view ahead of the arrival of international aid convoys, so that “images of people in advanced stages of decay don’t come out.” Two of the soldiers also testified to a systematic policy of setting Palestinian homes on fire after occupying them.

Several sources described how the ability to shoot without restrictions gave soldiers a way to blow off steam or relieve the dullness of their daily routine. “People want to experience the event [fully],” S., a reservist who served in northern Gaza, recalled. “I personally fired a few bullets for no reason, into the sea or at the sidewalk or an abandoned building. They report it as ‘normal fire,’ which is a codename for ‘I’m bored, so I shoot.'”

Since the 1980s, the Israeli military has refused to disclose its open-fire regulations, despite various petitions to the High Court of Justice. According to political sociologist Yagil Levy, since the Second Intifada, “the army has not given soldiers written rules of engagement,” leaving much open to the interpretation of soldiers in the field and their commanders. As well as contributing to the killing of over 38,000 Palestinians, sources testified that these lax directives were also partly responsible for the high number of soldiers killed by friendly fire in recent months.

Israeli soldiers from the 8717 Battalion of the Givati Brigade operating in Beit Lahia, in the northern Gaza Strip, during a military operation, December 28, 2023. (Yonatan Sindel/Flash90)
Israeli soldiers from the 8717 Battalion of the Givati Brigade operating in Beit Lahia, in the northern Gaza Strip, during a military operation, December 28, 2023. (Yonatan Sindel/Flash90)

“There was total freedom of action,” said B., another soldier who served in the regular forces in Gaza for months, including in his battalion’s command center. “If there is [even] a feeling of threat, there is no need to explain — you just shoot.” When soldiers see someone approaching, “it is permissible to shoot at their center of mass [their body], not into the air,” B. continued. “It’s permissible to shoot everyone, a young girl, an old woman.”

B. went on to describe an incident in November when soldiers killed several civilians during the evacuation of a school close to the Zeitoun neighborhood of Gaza City, which had served as a shelter for displaced Palestinians. The army ordered the evacuees to exit to the left, toward the sea, rather than to the right, where the soldiers were stationed. When a gunfight erupted inside the school, those who veered the wrong way in the ensuing chaos were immediately fired at.

“There was intelligence that Hamas wanted to create panic,” B. said. “A battle started inside; people ran away. Some fled left toward the sea, [but] some ran to the right, including children. Everyone who went to the right was killed — 15 to 20 people. There was a pile of bodies.”

‘People shot as they pleased, with all their might’

B. said that it was difficult to distinguish civilians from combatants in Gaza, claiming that members of Hamas often “walk around without their weapons.” But as a result, “every man between the ages of 16 and 50 is suspected of being a terrorist.”

“It is forbidden to walk around, and everyone who is outside is suspicious,” B. continued. “If we see someone in a window looking at us, he is a suspect. You shoot. The [army’s] perception is that any contact [with the population] endangers the forces, and a situation must be created in which it is forbidden to approach [the soldiers] under any circumstances. [The Palestinians] learned that when we enter, they run away.”

Even in seemingly unpopulated or abandoned areas of Gaza, soldiers engaged in extensive shooting in a procedure known as “demonstrating presence.” S. testified that his fellow soldiers would “shoot a lot, even for no reason — anyone who wants to shoot, no matter what the reason, shoots.” In some cases, he noted, this was “intended to … remove people [from their hiding places] or to demonstrate presence.”

M., another reservist who served in the Gaza Strip, explained that such orders would come directly from the commanders of the company or battalion in the field. “When there are no [other] IDF forces [in the area] … the shooting is very unrestricted, like crazy. And not just small arms: machine guns, tanks, and mortars.”

Even in the absence of orders from above, M. testified that soldiers in the field regularly take the law into their own hands. “Regular soldiers, junior officers, battalion commanders — the junior ranks who want to shoot, they get permission.”

S. remembered hearing over the radio about a soldier stationed in a protective compound who shot a Palestinian family walking around nearby. “At first, they say ‘four people.’ It turns into two children plus two adults, and by the end it’s a man, a woman, and two children. You can assemble the picture yourself.”

Only one of the soldiers interviewed for this investigation was willing to be identified by name: Yuval Green, a 26-year-old reservist from Jerusalem who served in the 55th Paratroopers Brigade in November and December last year (Green recently signed a letter by 41 reservists declaring their refusal to continue serving in Gaza, following the army’s invasion of Rafah). “There were no restrictions on ammunition,” Green told +972 and Local Call. “People were shooting just to relieve the boredom.”

Green described an incident that occurred one night during the Jewish festival of Hanukkah in December, when “the whole battalion opened fire together like fireworks, including tracer ammunition [which generates a bright light]. It made a crazy color, illuminating the sky, and because [Hannukah] is the ‘festival of lights,’ it became symbolic.”

Israeli soldiers from the 8717 Battalion of the Givati Brigade operating in Beit Lahia, northern Gaza Strip, December 28, 2023. (Yonatan Sindel/Flash90)
Israeli soldiers from the 8717 Battalion of the Givati Brigade operating in Beit Lahia, northern Gaza Strip, December 28, 2023. (Yonatan Sindel/Flash90)

C., another soldier who served in Gaza, explained that when soldiers heard gunshots, they radioed in to clarify whether there was another Israeli military unit in the area, and if not, they opened fire. “People shot as they pleased, with all their might.” But as C. noted, unrestricted shooting meant that soldiers are often exposed to the huge risk of friendly fire — which he described as “more dangerous than Hamas.” “On multiple occasions, IDF forces fired in our direction. We didn’t respond, we checked on the radio, and no one was hurt.” 

At the time of writing, 324 Israeli soldiers have been killed in Gaza since the ground invasion began, at least 28 of them by friendly fire according to the army. In Green’s experience, such incidents were the “main issue” endangering soldiers’ lives. “There was quite a bit [of friendly fire]; it drove me crazy,” he said. 

For Green, the rules of engagement also demonstrated a deep indifference to the fate of the hostages. “They told me about a practice of blowing up tunnels, and I thought to myself that if there were hostages [in them], it would kill them.” After Israeli soldiers in Shuja’iyya killed three hostages waving white flags in December, thinking they were Palestinians, Green said he was angry, but was told “there’s nothing we can do.” “[The commanders] sharpened procedures, saying ‘You have to pay attention and be sensitive, but we are in a combat zone, and we have to be alert.’”

B. confirmed that even after the mishap in Shuja’iyya, which was said to be “contrary to the orders” of the military, the open-fire regulations did not change. “As for the hostages, we didn’t have a specific directive,” he recalled. “[The army’s top brass] said that after the shooting of the hostages, they briefed [soldiers in the field]. [But] they didn’t talk to us.” He and the soldiers who were with him heard about the shooting of the hostages only two and a half weeks after the incident, after they left Gaza.

“I’ve heard statements [from other soldiers] that the hostages are dead, they don’t stand a chance, they have to be abandoned,” Green noted. “[This] bothered me the most … that they kept saying, ‘We’re here for the hostages,’ but it is clear that the war harms the hostages. That was my thought then; today it turned out to be true.”

Israeli soldiers from the 8717 Battalion of the Givati Brigade operating in Beit Lahia, in the northern Gaza Strip, December 28, 2023. (Yonatan Sindel/Flash90)
Israeli soldiers from the 8717 Battalion of the Givati Brigade operating in Beit Lahia, in the northern Gaza Strip, December 28, 2023. (Yonatan Sindel/Flash90)

‘A building comes down, and the feeling is, “Wow, what fun”’

A., an officer who served in the army’s Operations Directorate, testified that his brigade’s operations room — which coordinates the fighting from outside Gaza, approving targets and preventing friendly fire — did not receive clear open-fire orders to transmit to soldiers on the ground. “From the moment you enter, at no point is there a briefing,” he said. “We didn’t receive instructions from higher up to pass on to the soldiers and battalion commanders.” 

He noted that there were instructions not to shoot along humanitarian routes, but elsewhere, “you fill in the blanks, in the absence of any other directive. This is the approach: ‘If it is forbidden there, then it is permitted here.’”

A. explained that shooting at “hospitals, clinics, schools, religious institutions, [and] buildings of international organizations” required higher authorization. But in practice, “I can count on one hand the cases where we were told not to shoot. Even with sensitive things like schools, [approval] feels like only a formality.”

In general, A. continued, “the spirit in the operations room was ‘Shoot first, ask questions later.’ That was the consensus … No one will shed a tear if we flatten a house when there was no need, or if we shoot someone who we didn’t have to.” 

A. said he was aware of cases in which Israeli soldiers shot Palestinian civilians who entered their area of operation, consistent with a Haaretz investigation into “kill zones” in areas of Gaza under the army’s occupation. “This is the default. No civilians are supposed to be in the area, that’s the perspective. We spotted someone in a window, so they fired and killed him.” A. added that it often was not clear from the reports whether soldiers had shot militants or unarmed civilians — and “many times, it sounded like someone was caught up in a situation, and we opened fire.”

But this ambiguity about the identity of victims meant that, for A., military reports about the numbers of Hamas members killed could not be trusted. “The feeling in the war room, and this is a softened version, was that every person we killed, we counted him as a terrorist,” he testified.

“The aim was to count how many [terrorists] we killed today,” A. continued. “Every [soldier] wants to show that he’s the big guy. The perception was that all the men were terrorists. Sometimes a commander would suddenly ask for numbers, and then the officer of the division would run from brigade to brigade going through the list in the military’s computer system and count.”

A.’s testimony is consistent with a recent report from the Israeli outlet Mako, about a drone strike by one brigade that killed Palestinians in another brigade’s area of operation. Officers from both brigades consulted on which one should register the assassinations. “What difference does it make? Register it to both of us,” one of them told the other, according to the publication.

During the first weeks after the Hamas-led October 7 attack, A. recalled, “people were feeling very guilty that this happened on our watch,” a feeling that was shared among the Israeli public writ large — and quickly transformed into a desire for retribution. “There was no direct order to take revenge,” A. said, “but when you reach decision junctures, the instructions, orders, and protocols [regarding ‘sensitive’ cases] only have so much influence.”

When drones would livestream footage of attacks in Gaza, “there were cheers of joy in the war room,” A. said. “Every once in a while, a building comes down … and the feeling is, ‘Wow, how crazy, what fun.’”

Palestinians at the site of a mosque destroyed in an Israeli airstrike, near the Shaboura refugee camp in Rafah, southern Gaza Strip, April 26, 2024. (Abed Rahim Khatib/Flash90)
Palestinians at the site of a mosque destroyed in an Israeli airstrike, near the Shaboura refugee camp in Rafah, southern Gaza Strip, April 26, 2024. (Abed Rahim Khatib/Flash90)

A. noted the irony that part of what motivated Israelis’ calls for revenge was the belief that Palestinians in Gaza rejoiced in the death and destruction of October 7. To justify abandoning the distinction between civilians and combatants, people would resort to such statements as “‘They handed out sweets,’ ‘They danced after October 7,’ or ‘They elected Hamas’ … Not everyone, but also quite a few, thought that today’s child [is] tomorrow’s terrorist.

“I, too, a rather left-wing soldier, forget very quickly that these are real homes [in Gaza],” A. said of his experience in the operations room. “It felt like a computer game. Only after two weeks did I realize that these are [actual] buildings that are falling: if there are inhabitants [inside], then [the buildings are collapsing] on their heads, and even if not, then with everything inside them.”

‘A horrific smell of death’

Multiple soldiers testified that the permissive shooting policy has enabled Israeli units to kill Palestinian civilians even when they are identified as such beforehand. D., a reservist, said that his brigade was stationed next to two so-called “humanitarian” travel corridors, one for aid organizations and one for civilians fleeing from the north to the south of the Strip. Within his brigade’s area of operation, they instituted a “red line, green line” policy, delineating zones where it was forbidden for civilians to enter.

According to D., aid organizations were permitted to travel into these zones with prior coordination (our interview was conducted before a series of Israeli precision strikes killed seven World Central Kitchen employees), but for Palestinians it was different. “Anyone who crossed into the green area would become a potential target,” D. said, claiming that these areas were signposted to civilians. “If they cross the red line, you report it on the radio and you don’t need to wait for permission, you can shoot.”

Yet D. said that civilians often came into areas where aid convoys passed through in order to look for scraps that might fall from the trucks; nonetheless, the policy was to shoot anyone who tried to enter. “The civilians are clearly refugees, they are desperate, they have nothing,” he said. Yet in the early months of the war, “every day there were two or three incidents with innocent people or [people] who were suspected of being sent by Hamas as spotters,” whom soldiers in his battalion shot.

The soldiers testified that throughout Gaza, corpses of Palestinians in civilian clothes remained scattered along roads and open ground. “The whole area was full of bodies,” said S., a reservist. “There are also dogs, cows, and horses that survived the bombings and have nowhere to go. We can’t feed them, and we don’t want them to get too close either. So, you occasionally see dogs walking around with rotting body parts. There is a horrific smell of death.”

Rubbles of houses destroyed by Israeli airstrikes in the Jabalia area in the northern Gaza Strip, October 11, 2023. (Atia Mohammed/Flash90)
Rubbles of houses destroyed by Israeli airstrikes in the Jabalia area in the northern Gaza Strip, October 11, 2023. (Atia Mohammed/Flash90)

But before the humanitarian convoys arrive, S. noted, the bodies are removed. “A D-9 [Caterpillar bulldozer] goes down, with a tank, and clears the area of corpses, buries them under the rubble, and flips [them] aside so that the convoys don’t see it — [so that] images of people in advanced stages of decay don’t come out,” he described. 

“I saw a lot of [Palestinian] civilians – families, women, children,” S. continued. “There are more fatalities than are reported. We were in a small area. Every day, at least one or two [civilians] are killed [because] they walked in a no-go area. I don’t know who is a terrorist and who is not, but most of them did not carry weapons.”

Green said that when he arrived in Khan Younis at the end of December, “We saw some indistinct mass outside a house. We realized it was a body; we saw a leg. At night, cats ate it. Then someone came and moved it.” 

A non-military source who spoke to +972 and Local Call after visiting northern Gaza also reported seeing bodies strewn around the area. “Near the army compound between the northern and southern Gaza Strip, we saw about 10 bodies shot in the head, apparently by a sniper, [seemingly while] trying to return to the north,” he said. “The bodies were decomposing; there were dogs and cats around them.”

“They don’t deal with the bodies,” B. said of the Israeli soldiers in Gaza. “If they’re in the way, they get moved to the side. There’s no burial of the dead. Soldiers stepped on bodies by mistake.”

Last month, Guy Zaken, a soldier who operated D-9 bulldozers in Gaza, testified before a Knesset committee that he and his crew “ran over hundreds of terrorists, dead and alive.” Another soldier he served with subsequently committed suicide.

‘Before you leave, you burn down the house’

Two of the soldiers interviewed for this article also described how burning Palestinian homes has become a common practice among Israeli soldiers, as first reported in depth by Haaretz in January. Green personally witnessed two such cases — the first an independent initiative by a soldier, and the second by commanders’ orders — and his frustration with this policy is part of what eventually led him to refuse further military service. 

When soldiers occupied homes, he testified, the policy was “if you move, you have to burn down the house.” Yet for Green, this made no sense: in “no scenario” could the middle of the refugee camp be part of any Israeli security zone that might justify such destruction. “We are in these houses not because they belong to Hamas operatives, but because they serve us operationally,” he noted. “It is a house of two or three families — to destroy it means they will be homeless.

“I asked the company commander, who said that no military equipment [could be] left behind, and that we did not want the enemy to see our fighting methods,” Green continued. “I said I would do a search [to make sure] there was no [evidence of] combat methods left behind. [The company commander] gave me explanations from the world of revenge. He said they were burning them because there were no D-9s or IEDs from an engineering corp [that could destroy the house by other means]. He received an order and it didn’t bother him.” 

“Before you leave, you burn down the house — every house,” B. reiterated. “This is backed up at the battalion commander level. It’s so that [Palestinians] won’t be able to return, and if we left behind any ammunition or food, the terrorists won’t be able to use it.”

Before leaving, soldiers would pile up mattresses, furniture, and blankets, and “with some fuel or gas cylinders,” B. noted, “the house burns down easily, it’s like a furnace.” At the beginning of the ground invasion, his company would occupy houses for a few days and then move on; according to B., they “burned hundreds of houses. There were cases where soldiers set a floor alight, and other soldiers were on a higher floor and had to flee through the flames on the stairs or choked on smoke.”

Green said the destruction the military has left in Gaza is “unimaginable.” At the beginning of the fighting, he recounted, they were advancing between houses 50 meters from each other, and many soldiers “treated the houses [like] a souvenir shop,” looting whatever their residents hadn’t managed to take with them.

“In the end you die of boredom, [after] days of waiting there,” Green said. “You draw on the walls, rude things. Playing with clothes, finding passport photos they left, hanging a picture of someone because it’s funny. We used everything we found: mattresses, food, one found a NIS 100 bill [around $27] and took it.”

“We destroyed everything we wanted to,” Green testified. “This is not out of a desire to destroy, but out of total indifference to everything that belongs to [Palestinians]. Every day, a D-9 demolishes houses. I haven’t taken before-and-after photos, but I’ll never forget how a neighborhood that was really beautiful … is reduced to sand.”

The IDF Spokesperson responded to our request for comment with the following statement: “Open-fire instructions were given to all IDF soldiers fighting in the Gaza Strip and on the borders upon entering combat. These instructions reflect the international law to which the IDF is bound. The open-fire instructions are regularly reviewed and updated in light of the changing operational and intelligence situation, and approved by the most senior officials in the IDF.

“The open-fire instructions provide a relevant response to all operational situations, and the possibility in any case of risk to our forces full operational freedom of action to remove threats. This, while giving tools to the forces to deal with complex situations in the presence of a civilian population, and while emphasizing the reduction of harm to people who are not identified as enemies or who do not pose a threat to their lives. Generic directives regarding the open-fire instructions such as those described in the query are unknown and to the extent that they were given, they are in conflict with the army’s orders. 

“The IDF investigates its activities and draws lessons from operational events, including the tragic event of the accidental killing of the late Yotam Haim, Alon Shamriz, and Samer Talalka. Lessons learned from the investigation of the incident were transferred to the fighting forces in the field in order to prevent a repeat of this type of incident in the future. 

“As part of the destruction of Hamas’ military capabilities, an operational need arises, among other things, to destroy or attack buildings where the terrorist organization places combat infrastructure. This also includes buildings that Hamas regularly converted for fighting. Meanwhile, Hamas makes systematic military use of public buildings that are supposed to be used for civilian purposes. The army’s orders regulate the approval process, so that damage to sensitive sites must be approved by senior commanders who take into account the impact of the damage to the structure on the civilian population, and this in the face of the military need to attack or demolish the structure. The decision-making of these senior commanders is done in an orderly and balanced manner.

“The burning of buildings that is not necessary for operational purposes is against the orders of the army and the values ​​of the IDF.

“In the framework of the fighting and subject to the orders of the army, it is possible to use enemy property for essential military purposes, as well as take property of the terrorist organizations subject to orders as spoils of war. At the same time, taking property for private purposes constitutes looting and is prohibited according to the Law of Military Jurisdiction. Incidents in which forces acted not in accordance with orders and the law will be investigated.”

A flawed peace conference offers a radical proposal: hope

In a context of fear, hatred, and violence, an Israeli-Palestinian gathering that seemed detached from reality actually represented something revolutionary.

Israeli-Palestinian peace conference in the Menora Arena calling for an end to the war and a solution to the conflict, Tel Aviv, July 1, 2024. (Oren Ziv)
Israeli-Palestinian peace conference in the Menora Arena calling for an end to the war and a solution to the conflict, Tel Aviv, July 1, 2024. (Oren Ziv)

In partnership with

At first glance, the Israeli-Palestinian peace conference in Tel Aviv on July 1 appeared detached, almost delusional. And in some ways, it was.

With around 6,000 attendees, the event was the country’s largest anti-war gathering since October 7, outside of street protests. As they filed into the Menora Arena, giant screens displayed a video from 2019 about a group of musicians from the southern city of Sderot who teamed up with a group in Gaza to create a joint music and dance video. As if to further emphasize the stark distance between that time and our current one, it was immediately followed by a segment from John Lennon’s song “Imagine.”

This idyllic atmosphere inside the stadium was shattered by the first group of speakers to take the stage: Jewish and Palestinian citizens of Israel, whose family members were killed or kidnapped in the Hamas-led attack nine months ago, or killed in Israel’s ensuing bombardment of Gaza. One speaker, Liat Atzili, was herself kidnapped and held captive until late November.

Listening to each speaker’s personal horror stories felt like being punched in the stomach over and over again. There was hardly a dry eye in the audience — especially when they collectively read the poem “Revenge” by the late Palestinian poet Taha Muhammad Ali, as a collective stand against retribution. In between such stories, in what felt like an unbridgeable emotional leap, peace anthems were sung throughout the event, including the uplifting “Today,” “The Prayer of the Mothers” and “Song for Peace” — forever associated with the assassination of Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin — which were met with festive applause and enthusiastic dancing.

It was difficult to reconcile the dissonance between these moments of jubilation with the reality outside. Israel’s onslaught has killed nearly 40,000 Palestinians, obliterated the entire Gaza Strip, forced hundreds of thousands to live in tents without food, and thrown thousands of others into prison camps under conditions of torture and abuse. Meanwhile, since the October 7 attack that killed around 1,200 Israelis, tens of thousands more remain displaced from their homes in the north and south of the country, and the fate of the remaining hostages suffering in captivity continues to preoccupy everyone’s minds.

Israeli-Palestinian peace conference in the Menora Arena calling for an end to the war and a solution to the conflict, Tel Aviv, July 1, 2024. (Oren Ziv)
Israeli-Palestinian peace conference in the Menora Arena calling for an end to the war and a solution to the conflict, Tel Aviv, July 1, 2024. (Oren Ziv)

Adding to all this, while the crowd in the stadium was dancing, the Israeli army ordered thousands in the city of Khan Younis to flee ahead of yet another ground incursion. None of the speakers addressed these developing events, and much less was said about the horrors of the war than one would expect.

The dissonance was further exacerbated by the absence of any real solutions to the enormous problems facing Israeli and Palestinian societies today. Many of the speakers demanded an immediate ceasefire and a hostage-prisoner exchange, some vaguely mentioned a “political settlement,” and a few spoke of “two states.” But for three hours, not one of the dozens of speakers outlined a concrete plan for the “peace camp” that this event was meant to revive. (Peace activists Maoz Inon and Aziz Abu Sarah, among the initiators of the conference, promised that they are working on a detailed outline which will be published soon.)

Pragmatically-speaking, any large Israeli mobilization for peace must inevitably account for security needs, and this is a debate that we must continue to develop on the left. But nobody at the conference suggested how to deal with the challenges of Hamas and Hezbollah beyond the short term, nor the growing illegitimacy of the Palestinian Authority among Palestinians — very real and pressing issues for many Israelis.

For the most part, the Israeli left’s best answer is that these threats will disappear when the occupation ends and a peace deal is reached. But this doesn’t quell the existential fears of most Israelis, who are still traumatized by October 7 and fear that it could happen again. In the absence of such answers, it will be difficult to offer an alternative to the right wing’s absolute hegemony in Israeli politics.

‘Hope as a verb’

Yet despite all this, there is another way to understand this event. Along with the war, there is a social and emotional context in which the conference was organized: a society mired in fear, hatred, despair, racism, and cruelty.

Israeli-Palestinian peace conference in the Menora Arena calling for an end to the war and a solution to the conflict, Tel Aviv, July 1, 2024. (Oren Ziv)
Israeli-Palestinian peace conference in the Menora Arena calling for an end to the war and a solution to the conflict, Tel Aviv, July 1, 2024. (Oren Ziv)

Israelis are faced with a political landscape in which there is almost wall-to-wall denial — from Itamar Ben Gvir to Yair Lapid — of the need for a political agreement, for justice for Palestinians, and for substantive Jewish-Arab partnership. We are dealing with a mainstream media that for years has tried to conceal the occupation and siege from the Israeli public, and now hides the truth about the horrific war crimes Israel is committing in Gaza and in its detention facilities, while silencing every critical voice for peace and justice.

Even the peace conference barely received a mention in the local media; the only item offered on a TV news show ran clips from the October 7 attack while interviewing a conference speaker, as if to tell viewers who these leftists want to make peace with.

Because of this, a gathering that might have come across as detached, and where seemingly banal declarations were repeated for hours, actually represented something revolutionary.

The event brought together Jewish and Palestinian survivors, displaced persons, hostages, former prisoners, bereaved families, activists, security officials, religious and cultural figures, intellectuals, and current and former parliamentarians to echo a common commitment to justice, nonviolence, partnership, equality, democracy, self-determination, security, freedom, and peace for all who live between the Jordan River and the Mediterranean Sea. It was a radical proposal for hope.

As Maoz Inon said on the stage that night, hope is not something that simply exists or that you find, but rather should be understood “as a verb.” In the current context, where public discourse is suffused with genocidal speech, reaffirming our shared fundamental values and rebuilding a sense of community are vital and urgent rituals.

Maoz Inon, one of the organizers of the Israeli-Palestinian peace conference in the Menora Arena calling for an end to the war and a solution to the conflict, Tel Aviv, July 1, 2024. (Oren Ziv)

Without a horizon that sees there are two peoples who will forever live together in this land, and that life together is possible, it will be impossible to build an alternative movement to the prevailing currents of ultra-nationalism. Without consensus on these basic values, it will be impossible to propose sustainable solutions that will benefit both peoples.

But even on the political level, there were some important moments at the conference. Several Palestinians who took to the stage spoke about the Nakba and its personal significance — how members of their extended families were displaced to Gaza in 1948, and how those very same relatives were now being killed by Israeli bombs. This connection of the Palestinian people in all its parts, across borders, is rarely grasped by Jewish-Israeli society, and there is value in bringing it into focus. The insistence on equal treatment of all those living between the river and the sea is also a positive development in the broader leftist discourse in Israel.

Two videos screened at the event showed how hope can be translated from an abstract message into concrete steps. The first featured Palestinian activists and organizations in the occupied territories working against apartheid alongside Israeli groups committed to equality and peace. The second highlighted a series of bloody conflicts — South Africa, Northern Ireland, Rwanda, and between Israel and Egypt — in which ending oppression and injustice, and striving for reconciliation, helped bring those conflicts to an end.

Imagining a future

To even begin discussing the future, it is essential to first stop the war, the destruction, and the captivity. But for the peace camp to amass the power and influence necessary to bring about real change in Israel-Palestine, there is still a long road ahead, with many obstacles along the way.

Israeli-Palestinian peace conference in the Menora Arena calling for an end to the war and a solution to the conflict, Tel Aviv, July 1, 2024. (Oren Ziv)

Developing a detailed plan for how security and equality can be offered to both peoples is one challenge. The large gap between the significant Palestinian presence on stage, and the small number of Palestinians in the audience, also signals a problem that the movement must urgently address (Inon and Abu Sarah promise that there will be future events in the occupied West Bank as well).

Only four sitting Knesset members attended the event (Ayman Odeh, Ofer Cassif, Naama Lazimi, and Gilad Kariv), while Yair Golan, the leader of the new merger between the Labor and Meretz parties called “The Democrats,” was absent; it showed how far this camp is from the corridors of power.

A moving speech by the Palestinian writer Muhammad Ali Taha, which was full of humor and compassion but sharp in its criticism of both Israel and Hamas, captured the essence of what the conference seeks to re-activate. He spoke of the horrors of the current war, the principles of a political solution, and a distant imagined future where both nations play football, listen to music, and celebrate life “in West Jerusalem, the capital of Israel, and in East Al-Quds, the capital of Palestine, as well as Tel Aviv, Ramallah, Beer Sheva, and Gaza.”

Taha may be a dreamer, but in the words of Lennon, and as the conference shows, he is not the only one.

A version of this article first appeared in Hebrew on Local Call. Read it here.

Only an anti-fascist front can save us from the abyss

Israeli society will emerge from this war more violent, nationalist, and militaristic than ever. The work of curbing its worst impulses must start now.

Israeli soldiers seen on the Israeli side of the Gaza fence, March 4, 2024. (Jamal Awad/Flash90)

This article originally appeared in “The Landline,” +972’s weekly newsletter.

“What’s happening to you?” That was the question Yoana Gonen posed, in her recent column for Haaretz, to the so-called “leftists” vowing to vote for Israel’s right-wing former prime minister, Naftali Bennett. The fact that such a trend exists is bewildering, but the answer to Gonen’s question is clear. What is happening to these “leftists” is the same thing that’s happening to all of Israeli society: a profound and accelerating slide toward fascism. 

Nine months into a war with no end in sight, the Israeli revenge campaign in the besieged, starved, and devastated Gaza Strip continues apace. This is despite the unprecedented number of casualties, the significant diplomatic cost, and the genocidal war crimes in Gaza, for which arrest warrants hover over Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and Defense Minister Yoav Gallant. 

It’s very difficult for a society stuck in a continuous state of trauma to evaluate or even notice the transformations it is undergoing in real time. The Israeli public is still recovering from the shock of October 7, and while the world keeps its eyes on Gaza — and rightly so — Israelis’ attention remains focused elsewhere: on the hostages still trapped in Gaza and soldiers killed there; those evacuated from their homes in the north and the south; the shattered economy; and a war in the north that could break out at any moment. 

But it’s impossible to ignore how Israel has adopted a new national ethos under the auspices of this war — one that completely abandons any lip service to the idea of democracy in favor of fascist values. 

Since the start of the war, the Knesset has exploited the chaos and confusion among the public to advance a series of extreme anti-democratic laws. “The IDF and Shin Bet Certification Law” makes it easier for these bodies to penetrate private computers used to operate CCTV cameras and to erase, alter, or disrupt materials on them, without the knowledge of the computer’s owner and without permission from a court. A recent amendment to the “Counter-Terrorism Law” criminalizes the prolonged consumption of content produced by Hamas or ISIS, punishable by one year in prison. 

Israeli soldiers stand guard as religious Jews walk through the occupied West Bank city of Hebron, May 25, 2024. (Wisam Hashlamoun/Flash90)

The proposed “Likes Law” seeks to penalize the mere act of “liking”  social media posts that “incite terror”, while another proposed law would expand the Shin Bet’s surveillance of teachers. And to these we must add the forced closure of Al Jazeera’s offices, which only increased the appetite of Israeli ministers to promote a law permitting them to shut down Israeli media outlets without any limitations. 

Another particularly alarming manifestation of this slide toward fascism is the transformation of the police into a body of henchmen that almost exclusively serves the interests of the government and its worldview. Instead of protecting Israeli citizens, police are cracking down on those who protest the government and the war — even those demanding to bring the hostages home — while also inflicting horrifying violence on demonstrators during detention and imprisonment. 

The police have arrested hundreds of Palestinian citizens of Israel for expressing solidarity with their people in Gaza, opposing the war, or participating in nonviolent protests. And the appalling treatment of Palestinian prisoners and detainees is a category unto itself, with mounting, chilling evidence of what takes place inside the Sde Teiman detention center and other prison facilities.

An equally worrying transformation is occurring among ordinary citizens, who are reporting to the authorities their colleagues, neighbors, classmates, schoolteachers, and professors who have dared to deviate from the monolithic national narrative. Teachers like Meir Baruchin have been fired; Dr. Anat Matar has faced a despicable campaign against her for eulogizing Palestinian prisoner Walid Daqqa; and the National Union of Israeli Students is proposing a law to mandate the dismissal of any academic who questions Israel’s character as a “Jewish and democratic state.”

The examples of genocidal statements from elected officials are too numerous to tally, but plenty of them were presented by South Africa in its genocide case against Israel in The Hague in January. More recently, Rabbi Eliyahu Mali — the head of a religious school in Jaffa — suggested in March that Judaism dictates that all the residents of Gaza should be killed (the police have recommended closing the case). And just last month, former Likud MK Moshe Feiglin argued that, just as Hitler said that he couldn’t sleep so long as even a single Jew remained in the world, so too can Israelis “not live in this country if a single Islamo-Nazi remains in Gaza.” 

Israeli activists protest against the arrest of members of the Arab High Follow-Up Committee earlier in the day, Tel Aviv District Police Station, November 9, 2023. (Oren Ziv)

Then there is the explicitly fascist language that has become part of most Israelis’ everyday parlance: calls for genocidal violence flood social media networks in Hebrew, and the Israeli authorities don’t object or even lift a finger to try to stop it. 

One day — and who knows how much more destruction and death will be wrought before this day comes — the war will end. Israeli society will emerge more violent, more nationalist, more militaristic, and more openly fascist. But right now, we must begin preparing for this day by building a broad anti-fascist front that can curb the worst impulses of this new society and chart a different path forward.

The Jewish center-left must understand that what was can no longer be. The camp that paid lip service to the idea of democracy only to more firmly establish Jewish supremacy between the river and the sea has almost entirely disappeared from the political map. It is certainly not up to the task of leading an anti-fascist front. 

It cannot be led by Benny Gantz, the bellicose general who time and time again has saved Netanyahu’s political career, and who joined the prime minister’s war cabinet in October only to leave it criminally late and without any serious rebuke. Nor will it be led by Yair Golan, the new chair of the Labor-Meretz merger known as “The Democrats” and a rising star on the Zionist left, who hastened to clarify that he is ready to sit down and talk with Likud and Mansour Abbas but not with other Arab parties. And it won’t be led by Yair Lapid, for whom even Abbas is not good enough to serve as minister, and who dismisses all Palestinian parties in one fell swoop.

The anti-fascist front that must arise here can only be led by Palestinian citizens — not only because no other political camp comes close to matching their record of struggle against Israeli fascism, but because no one else has a coherent political vision, based on the values substantive democracy and full equality, as Palestinian citizens have articulated in various party platforms and civil society statements.

Today, after the shock of October 7 that has convulsed Israeli society, decent citizens are faced with an existential choice. They can continue to cling to the idea of “Jewish and democratic” Israel, a dangerous deception that masks an increasingly fascist ethnocratic state. Or they can strive for a substantial democracy, without which Israeli society will irrevocably plunge into the abyss.