My Perspective on Israel and Palestine: Complexity, Compassion, and the Search for Truth

By Dr Jessica Sneha Gray

As we near the second anniversary of Hamas’s unprovoked attack on Israel, I remember standing in the shadows just after the attacks, watching how people reacted. Some scholars and activists seemed almost to celebrate the murder of civilians, while others — supposedly angels of peace — shouted “from the river to the sea,” a phrase that, for many, signals the erasure of Israel altogether.

That moment — October 7, 2023 — was not “resistance.” It was terrorism in its rawest form: the deliberate slaughter, torture, and abduction of civilians. What was equally horrifying was the world’s reaction — the hesitation to condemn, the moral relativism, and the silence from those who claim to defend human rights. As someone who has always stood up for the vulnerable, I found that silence chilling.

In those early days, there was no clear logic — only outrage, confusion, and what looked like an orchestrated PR campaign by those who wanted to see Israel eliminated. I must admit, Israel at times fell into that trap in the months and years that followed, silencing criticism and alienating even those who initially stood with them. But nothing — absolutely nothing — can ever justify the crimes of Hamas on that day.

As a sociologist and investigator, I’ve learned to look beyond the noise and examine causes. At the heart of Israel’s reaction lies a deep, generational fear — the fear of elimination. For many Jews, October 7 reopened the wounds of centuries of persecution. On the other side, many Palestinians had hoped that Hamas might one day redeem their suffering, but instead they were used as pawns — trapped in a cycle of violence that Hamas itself perpetuates.

Perhaps someone — maybe even Israel — could help alleviate that suffering, but repeated military solutions have only dampened hope. I hate civilian suffering, wherever it occurs. Israel has said from the outset, “let them go,” yet Hamas has rejected offer after offer that could have protected its own people.

In the meantime, I’ve spoken with people around the world — people in what I call “the shadows” — who quietly admit they don’t want Hamas to stop. That attitude only fuels Israel’s anger and prolongs the agony for innocent civilians caught in between. And so, the cycle continues: mistrust feeding violence, and violence breeding more mistrust.

If we look only at the trauma of today, we can sympathise with the current suffering — but if we step back and see trauma through a historical timeframe, it exists on both sides. Unless we change the solutions we keep offering, we are simply repeating the same pattern of inherited pain that could echo for millennia. We don’t say a land belongs to someone because it was theirs thousands of years ago, nor can we claim an automatic “right of return” to a seventy-odd-year-old state as though rewriting history will heal it. The separation of India and Pakistan showed how re-drawing boundaries without reconciliation can birth generations of trauma — and the same lesson applies to the Middle East today.

I am not Jewish, and I don’t agree with every political decision made by Israel. But I do believe Israel has a right to exist — just as I believe the people of Gaza have the right to live with safety, dignity, and hope without terror from their own government or their neighbours. Peace will never come from denying one side’s humanity to validate the other’s pain.

What I Know to Be True

The conflict is complex. History, trauma, religion, and geopolitics are deeply intertwined. There are no simple heroes or villains — but there are moral lines, and Hamas crossed them on October 7.

All civilian suffering is unacceptable. I grieve for the children of Gaza and for Israeli families living with trauma and loss. But compassion must not blind us to cause and effect — to who perpetuates violence and who seeks to end it.

Terrorism destroys hope. Hamas’s violence, refusal to release hostages, and rejection of peace offers have made the dream of Palestinian statehood harder, not closer.

Hate only deepens wounds. I’ve seen anti-Jewish rhetoric creep into activism — chants that cross the line from protest to persecution. That kind of hatred is never justified, and it silences genuine dialogue.

Selective outrage helps no one. Wars rage across the world, yet Israel is singled out in ways that often ignore context, history, and moral consistency.

Where I Land

Pro-peace, pro-truth, pro-Israel’s right to exist. I am not “pro one side.” I am pro-human. But being pro-human also means standing against the narratives that excuse terror and vilify a nation defending its citizens.

Two states, real security. A lasting solution must include two viable states — with unbroken geography achieved through fair land swaps, perhaps with Gaza linking through Egypt to ensure movement, trade, and long-term stability. There also needs to be a clear and negotiated outcome for the West Bank, and also for parts of Jerusalem, which are sacred and historically significant to the Jewish people.

There must be give and take. For those of us with non-religious outlooks, it’s difficult to grasp the depth of meaning these places hold. Yet I urge our faith-based cousins — both Jewish and Arab — to find middle ground. Religious and historic spaces can sometimes be replicated or re-imagined elsewhere, allowing both sides to honour their faith while creating something fresh, shared, and forward-looking.

Neutral administration for Gaza. Israel should not permanently police Gaza. A credible, non-partisan international body — perhaps involving regional and global partners — should stabilise the region, rebuild infrastructure, and prepare for accountable local leadership.

Reject extremism on all sides. No ideology, whether political or religious, should justify the killing of civilians. But the world must also recognise that Israel faces a real and unique security threat — one no other democracy would tolerate within its own borders.

Accountability matters. War crimes, corruption, and incitement must face scrutiny — wherever they occur — but accountability must never become a weapon used only against Israel.

The Path Forward

I still believe peaceful coexistence is possible. But peace cannot come from slogans, selective empathy, or propaganda. It must come from truth — from facing the past, addressing present suffering, and daring to imagine a future that neither side controls through fear.

The world must stop choosing sides and start choosing solutions.

Land and boundaries have changed many times throughout history — empires have risen and fallen, and maps have been redrawn. Israel has every right to its land, just as its Arab neighbours do. But lasting peace will only come when both peoples recognise that ownership of land means little without respect for life.

Some Israelis believe their claim to the land is divine — that “God promised it.” Yet if there is truly a God, then that God is just and fair, and surely blesses those who make peace. Blessed are the peacemakers, after all.

Through compromise, land swaps, and mutual dignity, the land that once flowed with milk and honey can again become the promised land — not just for one people, but for all who choose peace over pride, and humanity over hate.

Dr Jessica Sneha Gray is a sociologist, social scientist, and investigator based in the Bay of Plenty, New Zealand. She writes on human behaviour, conflict, and the pursuit of balance in divided times.