The situation in the West Bank has entered a new, even grimmer phase

Ten days ago, I was walking into a meeting to discuss the International Fund led by the UK, Canada and Australia. Just before it started, a friend texted me: “what had happened in your town, Tel?” I didn’t see his next message until the meeting ended. Four young men were killed by settlers in my town on what was supposed to be another quiet Friday morning. He listed their names. I knew all four. We went to the same school and I played football with two of them.

A settler and a soldier were killed too.

There have been more dramatic events than this one. But something about it shifted the public feeling among Palestinians in a way I haven’t felt before. It’s common now to hear: what came before Tel is not the same as what came after.

We should all be ready for a new reality. On your next visit to the West Bank, don’t be surprised if you see Israeli military jeeps patrolling Palestinian cities and no stones thrown back. There will be resistance, but a different kind. I have no idea what would it be.

For a month now, everyone has been struggling to get fuel. These days I take taxis to my meetings for Rozana, the organization I work for, if I go outside Ramallah, because I don’t know if I’ll get another chance to fill my car. My brother waited from morning until evening yesterday just to refill his car. If he hadn’t, he couldn’t have gone to work. No work, no food on the table.

Water, electricity, medication, all of it that reaches the West Bank has been reduced by the Israeli government. Most people I know now think twice before they take a shower.

One of the projects that Rozana runs is a Mobile Clinic in remote communities around Hebron. Getting our teams safely to and from clinics has become harder and riskier. Moving medical supplies, or something as basic as water, through checkpoints that open and close without warning, has become harder.

I’m not the complaining type. I say that because I think these injustices are rarely held accountable or covered in the media. Gaza remains our biggest pain and challenge and now we fear for the safety of the people we love even when we are with them at home inside Palestinian cities.

Radicals thrive on the actions of other radicals. There is no such thing as only one radical side. And yet, despite everything I’ve just described, there has been no violent uprising here. I ask myself why? I think it’s because we’ve entered a new phase of this conflict, annexation.

I know many people are waiting for the election in Israel and Palestine at the end of this year. I’m almost 40. I grew up hearing that things would be better after the next one. This is rarely the case.

I believe people in a position to act need to have a serious conversation about what might be coming, for the sake of Palestinians, Israelis and Jews around the world alike.

Antisemitism has never needed material or justification. It has always been there. However, radical settlers in the West Bank will and are providing so much material for antisemitic voices around the world.

On my last trip to Paris, I came out of a meeting with a Jewish colleague and watched them take off their kippah before we stepped onto the street. They didn’t feel safe. Just a few days ago, a BBC interview went viral here: a settler, a lawyer, called for everyone in my town to be killed, and everyone in other Palestinian towns too, after a settler was killed in the recent settler attack on my town.

I keep thinking of a line from the New Testament: “what does it benefit someone to gain the whole world, and lose their soul in the process?” It’s part of why I have always rejected violence. I felt, watching suicide bombings once justified in this place, that we were losing our soul as a people to win the war.

Israel could take every part of this land. But nothing about it would stay holy in the process. So who wins? Israel, if it loses its soul building a state on another people’s suffering? Or Palestinians, who may lose everything and still refuse to surrender? In the end, I think both sides lose.

Let’s use what time is left to save what can still be saved.

Mohammad Asideh is the CEO of Rozana for Health Diplomacy and is based in Ramallah.

This article is adapted from a message sent by the author to members of The London Initiative (TLI), following the recent deadly violence in Tel in the West Bank. TLI is a network of likeminded members of world Jewry, citizens of Israel and international allies partnering to shape a better shared future grounded in liberal democracy, societal fairness and secure peace. The author is the first Palestinian member of the network who is not a citizen of Israel.