Historian and author Yuval Noah Harari says peace between Israelis and Palestinians will require something neither side currently offers - moral generosity. Harari argues that a lasting end to the region’s conflict cannot emerge from punishment or vengeance, but from a shared willingness to see humanity in the enemy.

“Generosity is not weakness,” he writes. “It is the courage to imagine a future larger than your pain.”

Rejecting Simplified Narratives

Harari’s essay dismantles what he calls “false moral certainties” — the deeply held beliefs on both sides that justify suffering as necessary or deserved. Israelis invoke security and survival; Palestinians, justice and liberation. Each narrative, he says, contains truths but not the whole truth, and both have been hardened by decades of trauma and politics.

“Every war begins with the illusion that one side is entirely innocent,” Harari notes. “In this conflict, both peoples have suffered and both bear responsibility for ending the cycle.”

He warns against the comforting simplicity of historical mythmaking, where each side reduces the other to aggressor or victim. This distortion, he argues, makes reconciliation impossible and keeps societies locked in a loop of retaliation.

A Historian’s Lens on Humanity’s Blind Spots

Drawing from his background as the author of Sapiens and Homo Deus, Harari situates the Israeli-Palestinian crisis within humanity’s broader struggle between empathy and tribalism. Nations, he says, often treat compassion as a finite resource — reserved for their own.

The result is a moral double standard: atrocities feel justifiable when committed in self-defense, unforgivable when inflicted by others.

“Our species evolved to defend the tribe,” Harari writes. “But peace demands that we extend the circle of empathy beyond it.”

He contrasts the enormous investment in weapons, propaganda, and identity politics with the near absence of investment in moral imagination — the ability to see dignity in someone across the border or checkpoint.

Between Fear and Responsibility

Harari acknowledges the fear that defines both societies. For Israelis, it is existential — a fear of annihilation. For Palestinians, it is generational — a fear of perpetual statelessness. Neither fear, he says, can be resolved militarily.

Instead, he calls for leadership rooted in responsibility, not reaction. True peace, he argues, will come not from victory but from renouncing moral absolutism, the idea that one side’s justice outweighs the other’s humanity.

“If we insist on perfect justice, we will get endless war,” Harari warns. “Peace begins when both sides accept imperfection.”

The Politics of Compassion

Harari’s essay arrives amid renewed regional instability and fading hopes for diplomacy. Yet he rejects cynicism, arguing that societies must build political systems that reward empathy rather than outrage.

He suggests education reform, historical truth commissions, and citizen dialogue platforms as tools for creating what he calls “moral infrastructure” — a civic foundation for coexistence stronger than military fortifications.

The challenge, he admits, is monumental: “In moments of grief, generosity feels impossible. Yet that is when it matters most.”

The Takeaway

Harari’s message is neither sentimental nor naïve. It is a demand for intellectual and moral honesty — a plea for both Israelis and Palestinians to recognize that every justified war still ends with the same dead children.

His conclusion is stark but hopeful: the path to peace will not be paved by treaties or weapons, but by the rare human capacity to forgive when forgiveness feels undeserved.

“The choice,” he writes, “is not between good and evil, but between the future and the past.”