Last week, a senior Israeli official shared a somber warning with me. Militant Palestinians had taken control of Jenin, and the Israeli army was on the verge of invading the city. He said that neither Israeli nor Palestinian forces had been able to stop the escalating violence there. It was an admission of failure.
A few days later, the Israeli military assaulted the city with armored vehicles, drones and rockets and the latest round in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict began. This one, like the previous battles between these adversaries, will almost certainly tighten the knot of suffering without providing more than a temporary lull in fighting.
Israel announced late Tuesday that its forces had withdrawn from Jenin. But this could be just the beginning of a continuing cycle of military action and reaction.
When it comes to “endless wars” in the Middle East, nothing rivals the continuous loop of death and destruction between the Israelis and the Palestinians. As a journalist who has covered the recurring violence for more than 40 years, and the iridescent but always unsuccessful “peace process,” I long ago ran out of hopeful proposals. But here are a few comments about how we got to this latest round.
When Israel first conquered the West Bank in the 1967 war, the United States joined other members of the U.N. Security Council in endorsing Resolution 242. It’s worth quoting now, in the shadow of the war in Ukraine: “Emphasizing the inadmissibility of the acquisition of territory by war and the need to work for a just and lasting peace in which every State in the area can live in security,” the resolution proposed “withdrawal of Israel armed forces from territories occupied in the recent conflict.”
An important historical footnote, which has allowed a generation of Israeli wrangling and Palestinian complaints: The resolution didn’t demand withdrawal from all seized territories, just from “territories.”
Israel expanded its occupied territory in the 1973 war. The United Nations responded with Resolution 338, which added a demand that “negotiations shall start between the parties concerned under appropriate auspices aimed at establishing a just and durable peace in the Middle East.”
These U.N. resolutions spawned a generation of attempts by U.S. presidents and their diplomats to find a settlement. I won’t belabor the details, just note the milestones: Jimmy Carter at Camp David; Ronald Reagan’s 1982 peace plan; George H.W. Bush at the Madrid conference; Bill Clinton at Wye River; George W. Bush’s near-deal with then-Prime Minister Ehud Olmert; Barack Obama’s stipulation of U.S. “parameters” for peace; Donald Trump’s “Abraham Accords” and related proposals for Palestinian territories.
Each of these U.S. initiatives failed for the same basic reason: Neither side was ready to risk the internal strife that would come with real compromise. Palestinian leaders walked away from deals because they feared backlash from extremists who wanted all of the pre-1948 territories; Israelis balked at terms that would require withdrawal from major settlement blocks in the West Bank and enrage right-wing settlers. Each side feared internal civil war was the price for peace.
The Palestinians have emerged over these decades as one of modern history’s greatest losers. Palestine Liberation Organization Chairman Yasser Arafat and his successor, Mahmoud Abbas, rejected proposals that could have created a thriving Palestinian state. Rather than opting for compromise, they chose “dignity” — and perpetual conflict.
Jenin is a symbol of failure for both the Palestinians and the Israelis. Let’s start with the Palestinians. Abbas and his Palestinian Authority have had responsibility for security there, but in recent years, they have been increasingly unable to enforce it. Abbas’s government has been corrupt and ineffectual. Its failures help explain the appeal of more militant groups.
Security is a special problem in Jenin, long a center of Palestinian resistance. Despite years of training by the CIA and quiet support from Israel’s Shin Bet, the Palestinian Authority’s security forces, led by intelligence chief Majed Faraj, have lacked the firepower or will to challenge the growing presence of Hamas and Islamic Jihad. The city’s refugee camps became a no-go zone and, according to Israeli officials, a center for militant attacks against Israelis.
For its part, Israel fueled this fire because of its refusal to control and discipline the ever-expanding settlements in the West Bank. Americans have protested, threatened, cajoled. But the settlements, many populated by angry Israelis who claim the West Bank as theirs, continued to grow.
When you travel the West Bank these days, you sense that a Palestinian state truly is a fantasy. Even if both sides really wanted one to materialize, there is simply not enough land left in a small territory dotted with Israeli settlements and “outposts.”
The Jenin crisis is a foretaste of what’s ahead, when Abbas, who is now 87, passes from the scene. The Palestinian Authority could crumble into nothing. Israel would probably be forced to resume full-scale military occupation, which would mean an all-out Palestinian intifada.
“An up and coming Palestinian uprising is a disaster for the Palestinians and the Jewish state,” one senior Israeli security official told me. “Israel’s administration’s highest priority should be a thriving Palestinian Authority with hospitals, academic institutions, and unlimited possibilities for the younger generation.”
Israeli officials tell me they hope that moderate Arab states, led by Egypt and Jordan, will help build a strong new Palestinian Authority post-Abbas. But why would any Arab nation take on this thankless task when Israel is led by a right-wing, pro-settler government?
When Israel assaults Jenin or launches one of its periodic wars on Gaza, officials seem to believe they can compel Palestinians to behave responsibly. If force could have worked to suppress the militants, it would have succeeded long ago. But people who feel they have nothing left but their dignity won’t give it up, even against overwhelming military power.
Forty-one years ago, I lived for a week in a Palestinian village in the West Bank called Halhoul, to see what life under Israeli military occupation felt like. It seems like almost a golden age now — quiet, peaceful, hopeful even. What I remember best was the deep satisfaction of the family I was staying with as they fell asleep on the roof of their tiny home.
“This is the best,” said Abu Hamadeh Kashkeesh, the family elder, under the blanket of stars. Today, there is a big Israeli settlement just over the hill, and a high fence to protect the settlers from the angry Palestinians nearby.
