"Sulha" means reconciliation, in Arabic. The practice of Sulha is centuries old. The term is also in use among Israelis, it's part of our daily language. When an Israeli wants to repair a broken relationship, he'll ask to "make a Sulha."

The Sulha Peace Project has brought Palestinians and Israelis together in the spirit of reconciliation, for the past twenty years. Last Thursday evening, before this week's pointless, lethal round of violence in Gaza, we were set to welcome 80 Israelis and Palestinians to a popular spot in "Area C," where Israelis can meet Palestinians without going through the army for permits. At 11 AM, the director of the facility called to say that he had received threats from a group of young Palestinians who vowed to disrupt the Sulha gathering. He cancelled our reservation. The threats are part of a trend that has taken root in Palestine, to label any form of Israeli-Palestinian cooperation as "normalization," and to attack any institution that hosts cooperative meetings.

The disruptions have increased over the past few years, and sometimes they get violent. Ironically, our plan for the event was to discuss the issue of violence, but we hadn't intended to offer a live demonstration. I was out of town that morning, doing a workshop in Tel Aviv. I called our Palestinian co-director, Iyad, and asked him to step in. Within an hour, he had secured an alternate venue, half a mile down the road. Our activists and bus drivers re-organized, a sweet place called Jala Jungle cooked up 80 meals, and we did our thing.
In addition to good food, Biodanza movement exercises and live music, as usual the heart of the evening was the listening circles, where groups of 10 people shared their personal experience with violence. In the circle I facilitated, we listened to a Palestinian woman in hijab head-covering, explaining the horror of watching her son get arrested and dragged away by soldiers. The woman acknowledged that being heard by a group of Israelis was something she hadn't imagined until that moment. More Palestinians and Israelis shared their experiences of violence, one at a time, with a level of listening that is rare in our land. It was a painful yet fulfilling hour, an island of quiet, humanized connection. We also explored together the ways we combat violence, the ways we remain true to ourselves even when reality calls us to despair and to react desperately.

There was tension in the air, as we did not know if the same group that forced us out of the first venue was lurking somewhere out in the dark, still intending to attack us for the crime of coming together to share our stories and feelings, for the determination to affirm our commonality. They never materialized, and the evening concluded with more music and a grateful circle of people who had briefly touched each other.

We are left wondering what motivates this twisted condemnation of "normalization?" Why would Palestinians choose to disrupt these moments of togetherness of people who wish each other no harm, who push aside the brutal occupation and seize the opportunity to glimpse for a couple of hours what is possible for us all….a trusting, gentle solidarity that revives our hope for better times? In the coming weeks, we at Sulha will seek to meet with leaders in the Palestinian Authority, and we will ask their support for our activities. With or without that support, the Sulha will continue.

Yoav Peck, Sulha co-director