‘We refuse to be enemies’
What I learned about being a settler and a peacemaker on a recent trip to Palestine.
When I visited Palestine and Israel in December with a group of Anglican clergy from the Diocese of Toronto, we felt as though we were immersed in the biblical story.
Omar Haramy, a Palestinian Christian and the Executive Director of the Sabeel Ecumenical Liberation Theology Center, took us on a walk through the Old City of Jerusalem on our first night. “These are the stones of the Old City,” he said, “But Palestinian Christians are the living stones that Jesus and Paul talked about.” Haramy’s family can trace their roots back to the original Christian families in Jerusalem. “The stories about Jesus and the first Christians are our family stories that we have shared with the world,” he told us.
So what do you do when your family history is one of witnessing resurrection, but the betrayal of Maundy Thursday, the death of the crucifixion and the uncertainty and fear of Holy Saturday are what surrounds your people today? How do you hope for resurrection?
Tent of Nations
It is a question that could be asked of Daoud Nassar, a Christian Palestinian who lives with his family on a hill-top farm near Bethlehem called Tent of Nations. Their terraced land produces abundant harvests of olives, grapes and apricots. Their fertile land is the red arable loam that is called ‘adamah in Genesis 1, the earth from which humanity, ‘adam, is formed. Looking down, we could see the winter crocuses mentioned in Isaiah 35:1, and looking up, it was possible to see the Mediterranean on a clear day. There were cisterns to collect water, composting toilets to create nutrients, solar panels for energy, and artwork on doors and walls. It seemed like an idyllic place.
Until we looked closer. The view has been disrupted by illegal Israeli settlements, not only on the surrounding hills, but also built against the fence line of the farm. “We have seen the settlements expand on all the hills surrounding us,” Nassar explained, “but this is the first time they have put buildings right outside our fence.” It is an aggressive move on the part of settlers, part of a larger pattern of opposition to the Tent of Nations farm.
In recent years, harvests have been disrupted by Israeli settlers bulldozing the apricot trees, burning 1,500 olive trees, and destroying grape vines. The cisterns are underground because Israeli settlers have repeatedly destroyed above-ground water storage tanks, and the Nassars have been unable to get permits to build more. The composting toilets and solar panels are necessary because Israel has cut off water and electricity to the farm. Moreover, the Israeli state has been trying to seize this land for 35 years, embroiling the Nassar family in endless legal battles despite documents that demonstrate their ownership.
Illegal settlement
Nassar’s story is not unique. A 40-minute drive away, in the South Hebron Hills, is the small Bedouin community of Umm Al-Khair. We were hosted in the playground area of the bright community centre, where children played as we talked. Later, we found out that they were home from school because an Israeli settler had blocked the road to the school that morning, preventing the children from attending.
The illegal Israeli settlement of Carmel has been built right next to Umm Al-Khair. Recently, the settlers built another access road to Carmel that cuts the Palestinian village in half. As we spoke, we watched a car drive past the community centre and stop at the gate that leads to the settlement. After it drove through, the driver stopped for about 20 minutes. He watched us as we walked around and saw firsthand the destruction that the village had suffered.
While the community centre is a bright spot of defiance in the face of all that has happened, the destruction is far-reaching. More than 100 houses have been demolished in Umm Al-Khair by settlers. A month before our visit, settlers destroyed 200 olive trees, the thyme field and dozens of fig, almond and cactus plants in the village, leaving the surrounding land barren. Before 2023, the community grazed more than 5,000 goats and sheep on their land. Now, that land and some of their flocks have been stolen by settlers. They are forced to fence in their remaining 1,000 goats and sheep and buy food for them. Their income has dwindled to nothing.
Rocks and bullets
Unlike Tent of Nations, where the settler caravans are just outside the boundaries of the farm, in Umm Al-Khair, settlers have set up caravans in the heart of the village. Every night they throw rocks at the community centre. When those rocks hit their mark and injure someone from the community, the settlers refuse to let the ambulances in to treat them.
But the worst blow came this summer, when one of the settlers, Yinon Levi, began operating an excavator near the village. As villagers came to watch, worried that their water line would be severed, Levi began to wave a gun around, shooting randomly. He hit Awdah Hathaleen, who was standing 40 metres away filming, with his three-year-old son in his arms. After Awdah’s death, Levi was briefly arrested but released almost immediately. He is still walking around the community. It was a story that received international attention, partly because Awdah Hathaleen was an English teacher in the village and a consultant on the Oscar-winning documentary No Other Land.
There are multiple levels of grief and trauma in this community. When the women in our group visited with Hanady, the widow of Awdah, she talked about her own grief over the loss of her young husband. She talked about the tears of her three young sons, who still cry for their father. Khalil, Awdah’s brother, described his sorrow over the loss of the trees planted by their grandparents and other relatives, and the grief they all carry over the attempt to erase the history of his people on their land.
Ongoing injustice
Yet the residents of Umm Al-Khair do not seek revenge on those who have harmed them. They, like many of the Muslim Palestinians we spoke to, along with their Christian neighbours, would like to see international law followed so that everyone – Jewish Israeli and Palestinian – has the same protections and rights in the land.
International law has ruled the settlements illegal. International law has condemned the violence against Palestinians and the theft of Palestinian land by Israeli settlers and the Israeli state. International law insists that adequate water and electricity be provided for Palestinians as well as Israelis. But Israel does not follow international law, and the violence and the grief continue.
As our group visited Christian and Muslim Palestinian communities in the West Bank, we talked more and more about how to deal with our anger over the violence and injustices that we saw.
The temptation was to demonize those who engage in these oppressive acts. But we knew that such demonization could not turn grief into resurrection life. Our hosts showed us a better way.
Who are settlers?
Omar Haramy, whose deep grounding in the gospels was evident throughout our trip, tried to provide some insight into the settlers who engage in this kind of violence. They are often young men who come from troubled pasts, he told us. Some are from Israel, and some are from the U.S. Instead of being imprisoned for past brushes with the law, they are offered the chance to become agricultural settlers in the West Bank. They are full of testosterone, they are given guns, and many of them have mental illnesses. Violence is inevitable in that case. And it can flourish because they are protected by the state.
He also pointed out that they are a small subset of the population living in the settlements. Since many Israelis cannot afford to live in the larger urban centres, Israel provides economic incentives to encourage its Jewish citizens to live in settlements: mortgage relief, free water and electricity, and cheaper housing prices. Many would choose to live elsewhere if they could.
I, for one, was not convinced by this argument. “But they are still living on Palestinian land,” I felt like protesting. My words died on my lips, though, as I realized that these same words could apply to me, in my own Canadian context. I also live on Indigenous land in an area where treaty obligations have not been honoured. Am I that different from the people who live in these settlements? Clearly, I have some work to do.
Extending grace
Omar’s graciousness toward the settlers was humbling. Palestinians are clearly suffering terrible injustices. And the international community clearly needs to step up. But in the midst of that, Omar reminded us that this violent and oppressive system is occupied by people who are also made in the image of God.
This was a perspective echoed by Daoud Nassar. The motto of Tent of Nations is “We refuse to be enemies.” He told us that many of the trees that were destroyed by Jewish settlers were replanted by Jewish groups from the U.K. and the Center for Jewish Non-Violence from the U.S. Similarly, at Umm Al-Khair we met two young women who were there to provide support to the community. One was from the U.S. One was an Israeli Jew. Healing and hope stretched across ethnic and faith lines in Palestine. What else is this but a sign of resurrection?
This feature is the first in a two-part series detailing Sylvia Keesmaat’s time in Palestine. In Part 2, she will explore some of the motivations of the State of Israel in its treatment of Palestinians, as well as a brief history of Jewish Zionism and its links to antisemitism.
Further reading
“In Umm Al-Khair, erasure seems only a matter of time” by Tariq Hathaleen and Ahmed Hathaleen, published by +972 Magazine on Nov. 20, 2025.
“A man of peace, Israeli and Jewish peace activists mourn Awdah Hathaleen” by Ariela Karmel, published by The Times of Israel on July 31, 2025.
“‘A gift that cannot be sold’: the Palestinian family fighting to save their West Bank farm” by Lorenzo Tondo and Sufian Taha published by The Guardian on Dec. 29, 2025.
Thank you for collecting, relating, and commenting on these stories. We’ve heard of some of the conditions facing West Bank Palestinian settlers from our daughter, too.
As far as living on traditional lands, we plan to invite people from the local clan of the Wit’suet’in to visit the farm this summer and acknowledge personally our connection with them and the land.
I would say that no one is perfect and that it is still necessary to call things by their name, even if it amounts to throwing stones in a glass house.
Not all suffering is needless in a world as large as ours, but it’s impossible to look at this and not see atrocity or simply genocide. If Canadians have this in our past also, then say so, so that it lends weight to the accusation, since we know a thing or two about atrocity.