How many Palestinians and Israelis remember life before the occupation, 56 years ago?
If we assume that a person only develops a sociopolitical consciousness after the age of ten, then we should check the proportion of both populations that are 65 or older. In Palestinian society, the proportion is a mere 3%. In Israel it’s higher (around 11%). But given the fact that many of the Israelis in that age group immigrated from the former Soviet Union only during the 1990s, it is safe to assume that in Israel too, the proportion is somewhere in the single digits, or less than one in 10.
Think about it: we have two entire societies – almost three generations – that have been conditioned to perceive their relationship as one of occupier and occupied.
Think about it: we have two entire societies – almost three generations – that have been conditioned to perceive their relationship as one of occupier and occupied. Three generations that exclusively experienced this “temporary situation” as the only way of life they know. Beyond that, majorities in both societies do not remember life before the second intifada, which put Israelis and Palestinians on a perpetual collision course of on-again-off-again violence.
What happens to two societies in conflict, which internalize occupation as a way of life, the only way of life they know? What happens to the occupiers and what happens to the occupied? You don’t need a degree in sociology to answer this question. It’s enough to read the papers, or, even better, visit Israel and Palestine. Many Israelis and Palestinians cannot even imagine life differently.
I often talk to Palestinians about what life is like for them, having experienced more than half a century of suffering, oppression, humiliation and hopelessness under a brutal military occupation. I can only imagine and express empathy and solidarity.
I am more than familiar with Israeli society’s reaction to the occupation, particularly in the past 23 years, since the beginning of the traumatizing violence of the second intifada. Most Israelis have stopped believing in the viability of an Israeli-Palestinian political settlement.
On the other hand, I am more than familiar with Israeli society’s reaction to the occupation, particularly in the past 23 years, since the beginning of the traumatizing violence of the second intifada. Most Israelis have stopped believing in the viability of an Israeli-Palestinian political settlement. Shalom (peace), a word that once dominated Israeli election campaigns and aspirational political speeches, has become synonymous with weakness and naiveté and all but disappeared from political discourse. Disappointed and disillusioned, many Israelis ceased to care about the plight of their Palestinian neighbors and about the prospects of living in peace with them. For our friends in Israel’s peace movement and, by extension, for my organization in the United States, the chief challenge has been battling apathy and nihilism.
The 56th year of the occupation has ushered in an Israeli government that, disastrously, is determined to infinitely perpetuate the occupation, that is unless they move ahead with their stated goal of annexation and kill any chance for a future compromise-based peace.
But it also saw the rise of a protest movement, the likes of which Israel has never seen.
I know, the protest is not focused on the occupation. Demonstrators are there to defend democracy and justice for Israelis, not for Palestinians. Still, I see the protest as the most promising development in recent memory in the struggle against the occupation. The movement has transformed hundreds of thousands of Israelis from apathetic cynics to political activists. It has exposed them to anti-occupation messaging by the tenacious demonstrators who insist on infusing the demonstrations with their chants and billboards. The protest movement went from shunning to tolerating and even embracing the Anti-Occupation Bloc (Ha-Gush Neged Hakibush, sounds catchier in Hebrew), a vociferous coalition of anti-occupation organizations that has mainstreamed the slogan “There is no Democracy with Occupation.”
No, protest will not reverse the occupation, certainly not under the current Israeli government. But it is already disrupting the Israeli public’s complicity toward the reality that they have otherwise ignored for decades.
And while this complicity disruption is far from ending the occupation, it is an essential first step and a powerful change. We think it’s essential, not just in Israel, but also in the United States.
We won’t allow the US government – either the administration and Congress – to talk the ritualized talk about a two-state solution without walking the walk to implement it. We won’t let our government talk about Palestinian statehood as a US strategic goal without helping lay the foundation for a state. And we won’t let fellow Jewish groups pay lip service to the damage that West Bank settlements cause to prospects of future peace without acting against settlement expansion and settler violence.
Fifty-six years later, the immediate imperative is to denormailze the occupation. It’s an ongoing effort. And the more we commit to it, the more likely we are to keep the path open for future peace.
Hadar Susskind is the President and CEO of Americans for Peace Now.
56 Years Later, Let’s De-Normalize the Occupation
Hadar Susskind
How many Palestinians and Israelis remember life before the occupation, 56 years ago?
If we assume that a person only develops a sociopolitical consciousness after the age of ten, then we should check the proportion of both populations that are 65 or older. In Palestinian society, the proportion is a mere 3%. In Israel it’s higher (around 11%). But given the fact that many of the Israelis in that age group immigrated from the former Soviet Union only during the 1990s, it is safe to assume that in Israel too, the proportion is somewhere in the single digits, or less than one in 10.
Think about it: we have two entire societies – almost three generations – that have been conditioned to perceive their relationship as one of occupier and occupied. Three generations that exclusively experienced this “temporary situation” as the only way of life they know. Beyond that, majorities in both societies do not remember life before the second intifada, which put Israelis and Palestinians on a perpetual collision course of on-again-off-again violence.
What happens to two societies in conflict, which internalize occupation as a way of life, the only way of life they know? What happens to the occupiers and what happens to the occupied? You don’t need a degree in sociology to answer this question. It’s enough to read the papers, or, even better, visit Israel and Palestine. Many Israelis and Palestinians cannot even imagine life differently.
I often talk to Palestinians about what life is like for them, having experienced more than half a century of suffering, oppression, humiliation and hopelessness under a brutal military occupation. I can only imagine and express empathy and solidarity.
On the other hand, I am more than familiar with Israeli society’s reaction to the occupation, particularly in the past 23 years, since the beginning of the traumatizing violence of the second intifada. Most Israelis have stopped believing in the viability of an Israeli-Palestinian political settlement. Shalom (peace), a word that once dominated Israeli election campaigns and aspirational political speeches, has become synonymous with weakness and naiveté and all but disappeared from political discourse. Disappointed and disillusioned, many Israelis ceased to care about the plight of their Palestinian neighbors and about the prospects of living in peace with them. For our friends in Israel’s peace movement and, by extension, for my organization in the United States, the chief challenge has been battling apathy and nihilism.
The 56th year of the occupation has ushered in an Israeli government that, disastrously, is determined to infinitely perpetuate the occupation, that is unless they move ahead with their stated goal of annexation and kill any chance for a future compromise-based peace.
But it also saw the rise of a protest movement, the likes of which Israel has never seen.
I know, the protest is not focused on the occupation. Demonstrators are there to defend democracy and justice for Israelis, not for Palestinians. Still, I see the protest as the most promising development in recent memory in the struggle against the occupation. The movement has transformed hundreds of thousands of Israelis from apathetic cynics to political activists. It has exposed them to anti-occupation messaging by the tenacious demonstrators who insist on infusing the demonstrations with their chants and billboards. The protest movement went from shunning to tolerating and even embracing the Anti-Occupation Bloc (Ha-Gush Neged Hakibush, sounds catchier in Hebrew), a vociferous coalition of anti-occupation organizations that has mainstreamed the slogan “There is no Democracy with Occupation.”
No, protest will not reverse the occupation, certainly not under the current Israeli government. But it is already disrupting the Israeli public’s complicity toward the reality that they have otherwise ignored for decades.
And while this complicity disruption is far from ending the occupation, it is an essential first step and a powerful change. We think it’s essential, not just in Israel, but also in the United States.
We won’t allow the US government – either the administration and Congress – to talk the ritualized talk about a two-state solution without walking the walk to implement it. We won’t let our government talk about Palestinian statehood as a US strategic goal without helping lay the foundation for a state. And we won’t let fellow Jewish groups pay lip service to the damage that West Bank settlements cause to prospects of future peace without acting against settlement expansion and settler violence.
Fifty-six years later, the immediate imperative is to denormailze the occupation. It’s an ongoing effort. And the more we commit to it, the more likely we are to keep the path open for future peace.
Hadar Susskind is the President and CEO of Americans for Peace Now.
Did you enjoy this article?
You'll love our roundtable.
Editor's Picks
Israel and the Internet Wars – A Professional Social Media Review
The Invisible Student: A Tale of Homelessness at UCLA and USC
What Ever Happened to the LA Times?
Who Are the Jews On Joe Biden’s Cabinet?
You’re Not a Bad Jewish Mom If Your Kid Wants Santa Claus to Come to Your House
No Labels: The Group Fighting for the Political Center
Latest Articles
Don’t Book Family Trips, Build Legacies Instead.
All My Journeys — A poem for Parsha Matot-Masei
A Bisl Torah — Confidence in Them, Trust in Yourself
The Young Investors Redefining What It Means to Support Israel
Print Issue: Remember Who You Are | July 10, 2026
A Moment in Time: Israel – Coming Home Again
Psalm 35:8 United the First Congress of the United States and the State of Israel
Rabbis of LA | Rabbi Geller Is Still Making History
First of three parts
Hebrew University-UCLA Exchange, New Staff at BJE, Repair the World Volunteer Day
Notable people and events in the Jewish LA community.
Arab Citizens of Israel: Between Integration and Separation
Arab citizens are an integral part of Israeli society. They serve as physicians, nurses, lawyers, engineers, pharmacists, entrepreneurs, professors and judges.
‘Floaters’ Brings the Joy and Heart of Jewish Summer Camp to the Big Screen
“The Floaters” opens at Laemmle locations in West L.A. and Encino on July 17.
Alan Rothenberg Brought the World Cup to America in 1994. Now He’s Bringing Soccer’s Jewish History to L.A.
The man behind the 1994 FIFA World Cup is chairing The Beautiful Game: The Untold Story as the Holocaust Museum L.A.’s Goldrich Cultural Center prepares to open in mid-August.
More Than a Game: How the Equalizer Is Bridging Israel’s Divides One Child at a Time
Through The Equalizer (Sha’ar Shivion), children from Jewish, Arab, Druze, Bedouin, religious and secular communities meet through soccer – not only to compete, but also to build friendships and break down barriers that often keep their communities apart.
NYBD & Bakery in Mar Vista Features Hamantaschen?
It’s important to the owners, Lenny and Adaeze Rosenberg – and the neighborhood – to stay true to its longtime recipes.
A Ka’ak By Any Other Name
A symbol of hospitality, families bake batches for holidays, family celebrations and visits with friends and relatives.
Table for Five: Matot-Masei
Keeping Your Word
From Roadmap to Reality: UCLA Must Move Beyond Aspirational Commitments in Combating Antisemitism
UCLA has an opportunity to become a national model for confronting antisemitism through principled leadership, transparent accountability, and meaningful action.
Emanuel Gives Israel Some Love Tough Rather Than Tough Love
I can imagine many Israelis rolling their eyes: OK, where’s he going with this? When is he telling us what he really came here to say?
The Story That Never Goes Away
Rachel Goldberg-Polin, mother of slain hostage Hersh Goldberg-Polin, can’t stop speaking about her pain and the public love her body cannot always receive. She talks to the Journal about her son’s legacy and her new book.
Remembering Who You Are
An Open Letter to My Fellow Jews on Peoplehood, Memory and Israel
Rosner’s Domain | A Dime-Store Abe: The Karhi Crisis
This week’s “Constitutional Crisis” is typical of the way the government operates. It issues a statement, or a tweet and then walks it back. Oops, we did not mean it. Or rather, we did, but we also meant to deny that we did.
“Believe All Women” Should Not Be Political
Moral consistency is not a Republican value or a Democratic value. It is an American value.
Why Can’t We Be Friends?
If we want to see a less polarized society, both internally and beyond, we must emphatically reject the idea that political alignment is the predominant commonality for friendship.
Ruth-less, the Enigma of a Name
Jews spoke in two voices about Ruth, a kind of national schizophrenia, one with joyous chanting on Shavuos as the Book of Ruth was read; the other, removing her name from the chain-link of repeated names throughout the generations.
Honoring My Father: Saying Kaddish with Men
Saying kaddish every day tested my faith and commitment. It made me realize that there is no room for excuses. It taught me how to show up. It taught me that my voice can be heard, even when not expected.
The Life and Times of Zeda Max – Part 3
A manufacturer of olives, pasta and tomato sauce, agreed to give my grandfather a job.
More news and opinions than at a Shabbat dinner, right in your inbox.