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The Future Is Peace
Palestinian Aziz Abu Sarah and Israeli Maoz Inon are unlikely peacemakers, dedicated to finding a solution to the bitter war that has decimated historical, ancient land and ended family lines. Despite the losses they have suffered, the resolve of their friendship has taught them that strength and unity are more powerful than the violence of separation. Throughout their travels, they have been constantly In the face of so much pain and suffering on both sides, when there have been so many lives lost and families shattered, how can they ever find hope? Their answer is always the same. One cannot find hope. We must create it.
In The Future Is Peace, Sarah and Inon take readers on their unforgettable weeklong journey across the holy land. They explore each other's personal and national histories in a land of competing narratives, amid the turbulent push and pull of near constant war, and the recent devastation that has rocked the world. Their mission is to explain the naivete in believing that more violence can bring security and prosperity to either people while in search of a true and lasting peace.
Pairing unapologetic candour and inspirational prose, Sarah and Inon are sending a message to humanity that the people have the power to make change. Peace is achievable, not just between the river and the sea, but throughout the world.
In The Future Is Peace, Sarah and Inon take readers on their unforgettable weeklong journey across the holy land. They explore each other's personal and national histories in a land of competing narratives, amid the turbulent push and pull of near constant war, and the recent devastation that has rocked the world. Their mission is to explain the naivete in believing that more violence can bring security and prosperity to either people while in search of a true and lasting peace.
Pairing unapologetic candour and inspirational prose, Sarah and Inon are sending a message to humanity that the people have the power to make change. Peace is achievable, not just between the river and the sea, but throughout the world.
240 pages, Kindle Edition
Published April 23, 2026
390 people are currently reading
6098 people want to read
About the author
Aziz Abu Sarah
8 books33 followersAziz Abu Sarah is Co-CEO of InterAct International, a nonprofit dedicated to Middle East Peace. He is a peacebuilder, entrepreneur, National Geographic Explorer, TED Fellow, and renowned speaker and trainer on conflict resolution and responsible travel. Aziz is the co-founder of MEJDI Tours, a travel company on a mission to transform tourism into a global force of citizen diplomacy. He has won numerous awards, including from the United Nations, Institute of International Education, and The Explorers Club. Aziz is consistently named one of the world’s 500 most influential Muslims by the Royal Islamic Strategic Studies Centre in Jordan. He has written opinion pieces for The New York Times, The Washington Post, Al-Quds, and Haaretz.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 65 reviews
November 15, 2025
Aziz and Maoz are an inspiring pair of collaborators who have turned their personal pain into a message of hope. I could not be more excited to read this book when it comes out in April!
May 7, 2026
This book is a difficult read; it’s also perhaps a necessary one for anyone concerned about, involved with, or living in areas where war and violence are the norm and have been for generations. There IS a way forward, and peace IS possible in even the most difficult circumstances through dialogue, mutual respect and understanding, and a focus on our shared humanity. We have to believe that, and, as Sarah and Inon persuasively argue, it’s the practical belief—the naïve belief being that we can somehow bomb our way to peace.
The world is a dark and scary place these days, and nowhere is the situation more complex or fraught than the Middle East. And yet these two people, and the people they work alongside every day to build peace, offer us hope that, no matter what has come before, there is a better way forward.
I take hope and courage from this book, though I recognize that there is a long, long way to go, and too many people in power in too many places are opposed to any way forward that doesn’t involve their own dominance or the subjugation of those they consider “other.” But…
But. There IS hope. And every single one of us has to work toward that future together.
The world is a dark and scary place these days, and nowhere is the situation more complex or fraught than the Middle East. And yet these two people, and the people they work alongside every day to build peace, offer us hope that, no matter what has come before, there is a better way forward.
I take hope and courage from this book, though I recognize that there is a long, long way to go, and too many people in power in too many places are opposed to any way forward that doesn’t involve their own dominance or the subjugation of those they consider “other.” But…
But. There IS hope. And every single one of us has to work toward that future together.
April 21, 2026
I just finished listening to the book, and I'm too busy weeping right now to do justice to a review. But here's my humble effort.
I timed my reading to overlap with Israel's Memorial Day (when fallen soldiers and victims of terror are remembered), and Independence Day (marking the founding of Israel in 1948, and co-occurring with the Palestinian Nakba, displacing Palestinians from the land). Two peoples, living between the river and the sea, represented here by these two corageous authors. Maoz and Aziz have each paid the price - Aziz having lost his brother to injuries he sustained at the hands of IDF soldiers, and Maoz whose parents were murdered and burned by Hamas on October 7.
These two men present a bold, uncompromising view of what it means to be peaceworkers.
*Peacemaking is not for the faint of heart, and the toll it takes is steep.
*Peacemakers don’t see the world through rose coloured glasses. To work for peace means facing the worst of humanity. It means enduring suffering, facing scorn, carrying humiliation, and struggling not to sink into the darkness of trauma that threatens to pull you down.
*Peace is a battle. True peacemaking is dangerous, thankless and unforgiving.
*We come to this work not because we’ve mastered peace, but because we have no choice. We are driven to forge peace from the broken pieces of the things we love, so others don't have to suffer the same trauma.
Another lesson they teach is that too often, people avoid these conversations, afraid they might say the wrong thing. Aziz tells a hilarious story of bringing his dad to a meeting of peaceworkers - I won't spoil it for you. But the take home is that we need to talk our way through. I'm here for the conversation.
So please, go ahead get yourself a copy of this manifesto of peace - I promise you won't regret it. I recommend the audiobook version, of course. After all, I spent a week travelling with Aziz, I've met and hugged Maoz, and their voices come through so clearly.
Blessed are the peacemakers, in all their bad-assery.
I timed my reading to overlap with Israel's Memorial Day (when fallen soldiers and victims of terror are remembered), and Independence Day (marking the founding of Israel in 1948, and co-occurring with the Palestinian Nakba, displacing Palestinians from the land). Two peoples, living between the river and the sea, represented here by these two corageous authors. Maoz and Aziz have each paid the price - Aziz having lost his brother to injuries he sustained at the hands of IDF soldiers, and Maoz whose parents were murdered and burned by Hamas on October 7.
These two men present a bold, uncompromising view of what it means to be peaceworkers.
*Peacemaking is not for the faint of heart, and the toll it takes is steep.
*Peacemakers don’t see the world through rose coloured glasses. To work for peace means facing the worst of humanity. It means enduring suffering, facing scorn, carrying humiliation, and struggling not to sink into the darkness of trauma that threatens to pull you down.
*Peace is a battle. True peacemaking is dangerous, thankless and unforgiving.
*We come to this work not because we’ve mastered peace, but because we have no choice. We are driven to forge peace from the broken pieces of the things we love, so others don't have to suffer the same trauma.
Another lesson they teach is that too often, people avoid these conversations, afraid they might say the wrong thing. Aziz tells a hilarious story of bringing his dad to a meeting of peaceworkers - I won't spoil it for you. But the take home is that we need to talk our way through. I'm here for the conversation.
So please, go ahead get yourself a copy of this manifesto of peace - I promise you won't regret it. I recommend the audiobook version, of course. After all, I spent a week travelling with Aziz, I've met and hugged Maoz, and their voices come through so clearly.
Blessed are the peacemakers, in all their bad-assery.
April 20, 2026
Early candidate for my book of the year.
April 16, 2026
This book takes the reader along a journey that is both literal and existential. Two men, Aziz and Maoz, take us through their lives, Maoz’s in Israel and Aziz’s in Palestine, and proceed to provide us with a path in imaging the unimaginable. They both suffered the most horrendous personal loss one could imagine and then, through entirely different processes, determine that the only sustainable humane path forward is through peace. Through their profound pain and loss, Aziz and Maoz have become brothers and teach us, with no uncertainty, that The Future is Peace.
May 4, 2026
A few years ago I went to Belfast for the first time and took a Black Taxi Tour. One of the city’s most popular and most important tourist activities, you are collected in a cab and driven around to the various walls, monuments, and locations relevant to the Troubles, with your driver/guide telling you both the history and their own personal experiences from having grown up during these turbulent, violent times.
Your driver may be Catholic or Protestant, but the companies employ both (and our Catholic driver walked us over to another driver for a few minutes at one point to get a taste of the “other side” of the story) and visit sites significant to both, and the drivers are committed to explaining a shared vision of lasting peace and coexistence.
It’s strange to think that there was a time when this would have been unthinkable to many. It’s even stranger to look at the two “sides” as an outsider and hardly see a difference between them. How could two groups with so much in common have experienced so many years of violence and conflict? And then, how could two groups who suffered so much ever find enough common ground to live as one (I know there is still some amount of sectarian conflict in the north, but it’s certainly night and day to what it was before the GFA).
Toward the end of the magnificent book The Future is Peace, authors Aziz and Maoz mention the Troubles along with other conflicts — Apartheid, the Rwandan genocide — as examples of horrible tragedy and violence among neighbours that required not only peace but reconciliation in order to once more live together in both geography and community.
As peace activists, Israeli Maoz and Palestinian Aziz have interests in the success of these historic conflicts because they are in the midst of one of the current most awful and seemingly unsolvable dilemmas. But their connections are personal beyond their nationalities: Aziz’s brother died after torture by the IDF; Maoz’s parents were murdered by Hamas on October 7.
It would be easy, understandable even, for these two men to be among the most sectarian of anyone. Not only do they have their ethnic and religious differences but their families have suffered directly at the hands of the other’s “tribe.” And yet, they have instead dedicated their lives to the opposite. “It is not easy to feel empathy when you are suffering,” Aziz explains in the introduction, “but it’s an endeavor worth fighting for.”
The introduction also explains the title of the book, saying that the future *is* peace, that peace will come eventually, but that it is a question of how much bloodshed will be allowed before it gets there. Aziz and Maoz, both working in the tourism industry, hope that showcasing their own cultures and history in the hopes of greater education and understanding will help to reduce that bloodshed on the road to peace.
While this may seem like looking at a complex situation with rose-colored glasses, especially with its audience being a world that loves to look from the outside and take sides (and note, I am not saying that both sides are equal in this conflict, but outsider tribalism that speaks over those actually involved helps no one), the authors argue that this is an un-nuanced take:
“This is not normalization, it’s co-resistance […] engagement, when done with honesty and commitment to justice, is not a compromise with oppression. It is a strategy to dismantle it. We must work together because the reality we face is shared and so is the future we will live in.”
The book takes the form of a weeklong tour through the region, with each author sharing about their chosen location through their eyes, talking about both national and personal history, before ending each chapter with a shared reflection and a reiterated call for peace. This sort of repetition could get tiring in a less important book, but here the emphasis is essential. “This book, in your hands, is a hammer,” they say.
When the authors speak about their own journeys, the book is at its most powerful. One of the bravest moments is when Aziz writes about visiting the Holocaust museum for the first time, saying he had to confront a fear that acknowledging his “enemy’s” suffering was somehow a betrayal of the suffering of his people, and realizing as he walked through the museum that this was far from the case. He also writes about his father questioning the descendant of a survivor on the veracity of the Holocaust and how his father was invited to meet the survivor and hear his story. And how many other Palestinians joined in. And how, after, many Israelis came back to them to learn about the Nabka.
Overall, I found Aziz’s segments a little more compelling than Maoz’s, probably in part because Aziz does run the sort of dual-narrative tours that I experienced in Belfast and probably in part because in the audiobook Aziz narrates his own portions while Maoz’s are narrated by his brother (while he surely shares the same vision of peace or he would not have agreed to be involved, there is always a little less passion in the reading of someone else’s words). But together, they are perfectly balanced.
The epilogue is stunning and had me in tears (okay, every chapter had me in tears but particularly this one). The authors imagine the future but speak in the present tense, sharing a world in which a generation of Palestinian and Israeli children have grown up without conflict, in which the process toward peace has been arduous but ultimately successful. They imagine speaking to Aziz’s brother and Maoz’s parents, vowing “to remember them, not as victims of war but as beacons of hope on the path to peace.”
While the authors do not lay out their own roadmap for exactly how peace will be achieved (although they say their ultimate vision is a single nation in which everyone has equal safety and status, and in the interim they hope for a lasting cessation of violence in which people of all faith have the security and freedom to visit their holy sites), they say that the process logistics are, for more, secondary to rooting the belief that the process is possible at all. And I think that anyone who reads The Future is Peace will close the book convinced.
Your driver may be Catholic or Protestant, but the companies employ both (and our Catholic driver walked us over to another driver for a few minutes at one point to get a taste of the “other side” of the story) and visit sites significant to both, and the drivers are committed to explaining a shared vision of lasting peace and coexistence.
It’s strange to think that there was a time when this would have been unthinkable to many. It’s even stranger to look at the two “sides” as an outsider and hardly see a difference between them. How could two groups with so much in common have experienced so many years of violence and conflict? And then, how could two groups who suffered so much ever find enough common ground to live as one (I know there is still some amount of sectarian conflict in the north, but it’s certainly night and day to what it was before the GFA).
Toward the end of the magnificent book The Future is Peace, authors Aziz and Maoz mention the Troubles along with other conflicts — Apartheid, the Rwandan genocide — as examples of horrible tragedy and violence among neighbours that required not only peace but reconciliation in order to once more live together in both geography and community.
As peace activists, Israeli Maoz and Palestinian Aziz have interests in the success of these historic conflicts because they are in the midst of one of the current most awful and seemingly unsolvable dilemmas. But their connections are personal beyond their nationalities: Aziz’s brother died after torture by the IDF; Maoz’s parents were murdered by Hamas on October 7.
It would be easy, understandable even, for these two men to be among the most sectarian of anyone. Not only do they have their ethnic and religious differences but their families have suffered directly at the hands of the other’s “tribe.” And yet, they have instead dedicated their lives to the opposite. “It is not easy to feel empathy when you are suffering,” Aziz explains in the introduction, “but it’s an endeavor worth fighting for.”
The introduction also explains the title of the book, saying that the future *is* peace, that peace will come eventually, but that it is a question of how much bloodshed will be allowed before it gets there. Aziz and Maoz, both working in the tourism industry, hope that showcasing their own cultures and history in the hopes of greater education and understanding will help to reduce that bloodshed on the road to peace.
While this may seem like looking at a complex situation with rose-colored glasses, especially with its audience being a world that loves to look from the outside and take sides (and note, I am not saying that both sides are equal in this conflict, but outsider tribalism that speaks over those actually involved helps no one), the authors argue that this is an un-nuanced take:
“This is not normalization, it’s co-resistance […] engagement, when done with honesty and commitment to justice, is not a compromise with oppression. It is a strategy to dismantle it. We must work together because the reality we face is shared and so is the future we will live in.”
The book takes the form of a weeklong tour through the region, with each author sharing about their chosen location through their eyes, talking about both national and personal history, before ending each chapter with a shared reflection and a reiterated call for peace. This sort of repetition could get tiring in a less important book, but here the emphasis is essential. “This book, in your hands, is a hammer,” they say.
When the authors speak about their own journeys, the book is at its most powerful. One of the bravest moments is when Aziz writes about visiting the Holocaust museum for the first time, saying he had to confront a fear that acknowledging his “enemy’s” suffering was somehow a betrayal of the suffering of his people, and realizing as he walked through the museum that this was far from the case. He also writes about his father questioning the descendant of a survivor on the veracity of the Holocaust and how his father was invited to meet the survivor and hear his story. And how many other Palestinians joined in. And how, after, many Israelis came back to them to learn about the Nabka.
Overall, I found Aziz’s segments a little more compelling than Maoz’s, probably in part because Aziz does run the sort of dual-narrative tours that I experienced in Belfast and probably in part because in the audiobook Aziz narrates his own portions while Maoz’s are narrated by his brother (while he surely shares the same vision of peace or he would not have agreed to be involved, there is always a little less passion in the reading of someone else’s words). But together, they are perfectly balanced.
The epilogue is stunning and had me in tears (okay, every chapter had me in tears but particularly this one). The authors imagine the future but speak in the present tense, sharing a world in which a generation of Palestinian and Israeli children have grown up without conflict, in which the process toward peace has been arduous but ultimately successful. They imagine speaking to Aziz’s brother and Maoz’s parents, vowing “to remember them, not as victims of war but as beacons of hope on the path to peace.”
While the authors do not lay out their own roadmap for exactly how peace will be achieved (although they say their ultimate vision is a single nation in which everyone has equal safety and status, and in the interim they hope for a lasting cessation of violence in which people of all faith have the security and freedom to visit their holy sites), they say that the process logistics are, for more, secondary to rooting the belief that the process is possible at all. And I think that anyone who reads The Future is Peace will close the book convinced.
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
The vision for this book was, dare I say, perhaps a tad too grand. I learned a lot from reading this, particularly the individual experience of occupying and being occupied. That being said, this didn't read as a cohesive narrative and many sentiments were repeated far too frequently. It felt like their tour guide narrative - which no doubt is exciting and informative on actual tours, but in a book less so. While I did learn, it overall just felt slow and repetitive.
May 3, 2026
I am really amazed not just that these two could be friends--that is less surprising for me because I've attended a lot of Combatants for Peace/ IfNotNow events, and read a similar book like this with a Palestinian and Israeli collaboration "In This Place Together" and there are remarkably a lot of Palestinian and Israeli peace activists doing this incredible work together--but I am amazed that with so much loss, so much RECENT loss, these two could find it in their hearts to work at *all.* For Maoz Inon, the Israeli voice in the book, to have his parents both killed in Oct 7, burned alive so brutally they could not identify them for weeks, and to not harden his heart and instead move determinedly to peace, and Aziz Abu Sarah, whose brother was brutally tortured and murdered by Israeli forces, imprisoned for suspicion of throwing rocks, to inherit that loss at age 10, and to also move so determinedly to peace for the rest of his life, is nothing short of astounding. These two men carry so much courage and compassion in their hearts. And yet, this book was not a Pollyana, Hunky Dorky, Let's Have Peace Together! book. It did not shy away from every single thorny aspect of this genocide. The irony of Maoz' son who was conscripted to fight in Gaza--in the very war his father is protesting. It is left there, for us all, not interrogated, not explored. It was a smart structure to divide the book into each day, traveling through the land, together. Also highly recommend listening to this as an audiobook because each of them narrates. You start to forget who is speaking, which is such a telling metaphor for the book. How different are we, truly?
This quote to me says it all:
"Many Palestinians fear that acknowledging the horror of the Holocaust is tantamount to excusing the Nakba and the occupation of our land. They have a fear of acknowledging any Jewish pain at all, regardless of whether it was caused by Nazis or by Palestinians. It’s the same for Jewish Israelis who don’t know the history of the Nakba. They fear that if they acknowledge Palestinians’ suffering, it will absolve Hamas of its horrific deeds. But this mind-set keeps us trapped in endless violence.”
This quote to me says it all:
"Many Palestinians fear that acknowledging the horror of the Holocaust is tantamount to excusing the Nakba and the occupation of our land. They have a fear of acknowledging any Jewish pain at all, regardless of whether it was caused by Nazis or by Palestinians. It’s the same for Jewish Israelis who don’t know the history of the Nakba. They fear that if they acknowledge Palestinians’ suffering, it will absolve Hamas of its horrific deeds. But this mind-set keeps us trapped in endless violence.”
April 18, 2026
The Future is Peace is an incredibly moving book because of the humility Aziz and Maoz express in their eight day journey. One would expect this book to be promotional, self-aggrandizing, and unrealistic because the author's make the bold claim that dialogue and mutual understanding can create the basis of peace.
However, Aziz and Maoz have the moral authority and the background to support this bold claim, and their results convince me that their grassroots strategy is more pragmatic than military might or one-sided peace agreements. Aziz's dual narrative tours and Maoz's investment in the Fauzi Azar Inn created durable bonds between communities that can effectively organize against occupation, violence, and injustice. In addition, they have endured personal tragedy that should befall no one, and they continue to refuse violence against civilians.
This book also succeeds in its unique narrative structure. It seamlessly blends flashbacks from Aziz and Maoz with the encounters on their 8-day journey. There is a clear throughline between their history and their present. In this way, the book reads like a novel.
My one critique of the book is that it is too light on specifics for how they will achieve peace. Although both authors relay personal narratives of peacebuilding to illustrate what peace could look like, the reader is not given specifics beyond their support for the confederation model created by A Land For All . Notwithstanding, there is no reason to doubt their seriousness about achieving an equitable peace.
Don't mistake The Future is Peace for being lighthearted. The stories in the book are far from that. However, it is optimistic. I do not have the moral authority to challenge anyone's pessimism, but I also do not have the moral authority to challenge Aziz and Maoz's optimism. Even if you disagree with their thesis, it is important to read this book for their perspective.
However, Aziz and Maoz have the moral authority and the background to support this bold claim, and their results convince me that their grassroots strategy is more pragmatic than military might or one-sided peace agreements. Aziz's dual narrative tours and Maoz's investment in the Fauzi Azar Inn created durable bonds between communities that can effectively organize against occupation, violence, and injustice. In addition, they have endured personal tragedy that should befall no one, and they continue to refuse violence against civilians.
This book also succeeds in its unique narrative structure. It seamlessly blends flashbacks from Aziz and Maoz with the encounters on their 8-day journey. There is a clear throughline between their history and their present. In this way, the book reads like a novel.
My one critique of the book is that it is too light on specifics for how they will achieve peace. Although both authors relay personal narratives of peacebuilding to illustrate what peace could look like, the reader is not given specifics beyond their support for the confederation model created by A Land For All . Notwithstanding, there is no reason to doubt their seriousness about achieving an equitable peace.
Don't mistake The Future is Peace for being lighthearted. The stories in the book are far from that. However, it is optimistic. I do not have the moral authority to challenge anyone's pessimism, but I also do not have the moral authority to challenge Aziz and Maoz's optimism. Even if you disagree with their thesis, it is important to read this book for their perspective.
April 21, 2026
Do you also believe the Future is Peace? Join these travelers on the journey in the Holy Land as they discuss hope, grief, love and peace work. First we have to believe peace is possible. When you read this book, it will open your heart, make you cry, and strengthen your hope that peace is possible.
April 19, 2026
This book gives me hope for future peace between Gaza, Israelis, and Palestinians. It's a novel from a Palestinian and Israeli Jewish man.
Their journals intertwine and make them collaborate and as they call one another... Brothers.
they say it takes ordinary people to peacefully bring calm to the region with their social action.
I am in awe od their dedication.
Their journals intertwine and make them collaborate and as they call one another... Brothers.
they say it takes ordinary people to peacefully bring calm to the region with their social action.
I am in awe od their dedication.
Read
April 20, 2026I always enjoy a book that is highly educational, and in this case also sharing a very sad history. Why is war so important, and humanity an afterthought.
May 4, 2026
A must read for anyone who has felt inclined to "take sides" about the topic of Israel and Palestine. Inon and Sarah show us there is a better way. This book is respectful, balanced and inspirational, and challenges us to keep our hearts open and to act with empathy and humanity to forge peace.
April 17, 2026
Regional and national conflict and familial history all intertwined in the dialogue to find peace— the back and forth btw authors and direct conversation to the reader makes for an easy read. 5/5
April 26, 2026
Peace Possibilities!
This book restores hope in humanity and for the future. If indeed these 2 men, raised to despair and fear the others’ beliefs and proximity, can become friends and ambassadors after listening, learning, and visiting, there is hope. If Israel, the religious homeland for 3 religions can eventually obtain a peace, then they will lead and show the world what the future can provide.
Even after, especially after the most recent attacks, retaliation, hostage negotiations, and more bombings, these 2 men have remained friends realizing what and how they can aid their nation and ALL its people on either side of walls or Gaza Strip, is to maintain a calm, a compassionate focus for all.
This book is a dual perspective of alternating histories through personal and ancient histories. The journey through key cities examines the conditions and people from the ancient times to the present with closest examinations on positive possibilities and proof of mini milestones in the journey towards peace.
Should be a book more widely read for it will educate, illuminate, and inspire. Such a powerful potential exists…if…
This book restores hope in humanity and for the future. If indeed these 2 men, raised to despair and fear the others’ beliefs and proximity, can become friends and ambassadors after listening, learning, and visiting, there is hope. If Israel, the religious homeland for 3 religions can eventually obtain a peace, then they will lead and show the world what the future can provide.
Even after, especially after the most recent attacks, retaliation, hostage negotiations, and more bombings, these 2 men have remained friends realizing what and how they can aid their nation and ALL its people on either side of walls or Gaza Strip, is to maintain a calm, a compassionate focus for all.
This book is a dual perspective of alternating histories through personal and ancient histories. The journey through key cities examines the conditions and people from the ancient times to the present with closest examinations on positive possibilities and proof of mini milestones in the journey towards peace.
Should be a book more widely read for it will educate, illuminate, and inspire. Such a powerful potential exists…if…
May 4, 2026
Everyone should read this book to get a grasp of the immense suffering the Palestinians and Israelis have experienced. The notion that the righteousness of the victims on one side is purer than on the other denies the humanity we share. I cried many times and often had to stop reading because the cruelty was too much to bear. Imagine living it.
May 6, 2026
A poignant hopeful and powerful book. The first (only?) book anyone needs to read if they’re going to have an opinion on Israel & Palestine. Thank you Maoz Inon and Aziz Abu Sarah for your bravery and courageous vulnerable leadership. It’s exactly what we need right now, (sadly).
Review of advance copy received from Goodreads Giveaways
Errors:
Double paragraph indention on next-to-last paragraph on page 209.
I'm unsure how to approach reviewing this book, as I typically don't read non-fiction or historical accounts in this framework. My knowledge of the Middle East is constantly reframed through hindsight's erosion of bias and despite a handful of on-the-ground sources that circulate on social media, sifting out propaganda is challenging, even when much of my coursework for a Print Media Journalism degree required critical analysis. However, this book looked very special in the approach and execution of its narrative and worthy of the challenge, and I was lucky enough to win a printed ARC in a Goodreads giveaway.
Seeing as I'm part of the Western audience and partially related to the demographic this book is intended to reach (educated moderate women who have participated in equality/peace activism), I examined the approach Aziz and Maoz take with the content in this tour structure and how their personal experiences integrated with the intentions to elicit emotion from the reader. There were a few rubrics I used to examine motive and perspective from the writers involved. One, how they revealed themselves to the reader through omission or inclusion of information. By comparing/contrasting both writer's prejudices and privilege. And finally, how they approach the most disenfranchised people in their region's narrative: women.
The reason for the chapter structure in the book is never elaborated in the entirety of the work, which disappointed me. My understanding of Jewish education and cultural patterns of disseminating an idea is through debate in study hall, or Beit Midrash, where students and teachers alike fervently discuss concepts to either develop or deconstruct ideas in favor of providing education for all parties involved. All the way at page 202, Aziz validates this approach to questions, even when they're not posed politically correct, still lead to vital understanding. In these debate halls is where the staunchest biases lie, bared to the forum. So when the chapters open and close on a joint narrative, then divert to Aziz, then to Maoz, and sometimes back to Aziz, before coalescing back to a united closing concept, it relays a cultural nuance without defining it, handicapping readers rather than helping them follow the purpose for the dialogue's structure.
Maoz Inon is the reader's guide into the Israeli middle-class, whose parents found a way to move from Negev to Netiv HaAsara in Inon's teens so he could access better education. He did his time in the Israeli Defense Force as all conscripted males are to do, then had the financial security to fly to several countries to have hiking tours throughout his life, exercising a freedom wantonly craved by most of his neighbors across the wall. Aziz Abu Sarah is the middle-class Palestinian whose family hopped many bureaucratic hindrances (like moving) to find their children ways to higher education through an Israeli identification card, not long after the untimely death of his older brother. At the same time Maoz was shedding his perceptions of the IDF's function, Aziz was shedding his preconceptions about learning Hebrew and beginning to unravel the psychosocial tangle that created the systematic oppression his family and people constantly hurdled. Childhood boredom transmuted into scholarship, something attainable, even if not readily available to average Gazans. On page 121, he could no longer coexist either, but had to find a way to reconcile himself to the idea that Jerusalem is a sacred trust to be shared. Aziz was the voice Maoz could respect because Aziz was the example to validate Gaza and Palestinians to Israelis who took their freedom for granted.
They had found themselves on the same entrepreneurial footing, but their relationship never took root until Inon faced a tragedy Abu Sarah had long inhabited: losing family to the teeth of unnecessary power struggles. Through Inon's parents' deaths, Abu Sarah extended comfort in solidarity, a tipping point that finally made the issue for Inon personally irrefutable. Not only had the Eight Day War injured him financially (no one felt safe to come utilize Mejdi tours, stay in the Fauzi Azar Inn, etc) and the community ingratiated to his business contracts, and all of the peaceful protests and groups speaking out against unlawful land seizures and resource regulations he had formed coalitions with being harassed, threatened, fined, and injured never enough... The encroachment had finally drawn blood, finally made starkly real. Even from a seat of privilege, Inon was not immune to his own state's overreach.
Which makes some of the exclusions and criticisms land with the force of a tsunami.
Inon seems reticent about crediting extremist groups with their actions. He recognizes Hamas killed his parents on page 16, but never uses condemning language. He complains how aid trucks are being withheld from those starving on page 22, never attributing Hamas or the IDF with their hijacking. The attitude he approaches what the West easily identifies as denouncable actions left me stunned. 'Let them eat Hamas,' was my suggestion as I read this section. When he finally condemns Hamas for their actions, it's at pages 113 and 193. Even on page 17, he credits cruelties with "Arab extremists", despite being closest to media sources that can confirm if it's Hamas, Hezbollah, Palestinian Islamic Jihadis, the Martyrs Brigade, or even Houthis involved. Instead, it reads as protective, catch-all language that drew my scrutiny. Even on page 126 when he acknowledges police do exist as legislatively-appointed bullies, he precedes it on page 35, complaining the IDF soldiers should have been protecting the small kibbutzes, instead of highly sensitive areas like air force bases, nuclear facilities, and government buildings.
Abu Sarah is more candid about assigning blame, yet falls for truncated sourcing later on. He denounces Hamas more frequently, on pages 46 and 49, speaking badly of their actions on page 103 as well, by charging the Palestinian Liberation Organization as complicit to their crimes. He also demonizes Assad and naive Americans participating in Israel's colonization by seizing property through bureaucratic channels repelling native Gazans. Even on page 114, a young Jewish couple from America that imigrated where Palestinians had been stripped of ownership rankle his ire. He doesn't say it outright, but the privilege with which Americans are allowed to ethnically cleanse an area simply through idyllic gentrification isn't lost on me. On page 129, Abu Sarah reiterates how laws intentionally discriminate against Palestinians by installing localized or imported Jewish presences goes back for millenia. It's not the re-establishment that concerns him, but the skew that led to the Jewish population in these areas doubling in twenty years. It wasn't through a political accident. "Settlers" attack townships, forcing out Palestinians from their homes, yet that sounds too organized... Is this another attempt to obfuscate true blame on certain organizations that Inon may favor through omission? Was it a collective of terrorist groups that clamor over credit for the attack, so none are assigned the blame?
Inon and Abu Sarah also approach privilege and freedom differently. Inon suggests how on page 59, politics and polemics are what divide general consensus that foments peace. Yet, if no investment is made in educating the general public, you're expecting fish to run on land. Page 32 discusses how people just 'wait for change to happen', through apathetic ignorance, and passing responsibility is acceptable on page 36. Page 43 acknowledges elders reticent to speak of their traumas, not recognizing that keeping younger generations ignorant of what has occurred dooms future generations to repeat these mistakes. When setbacks occur on pages 44-45, surrender is normalized because institutionalizing hand-wringing allows acknowledgement void of agency. Agency is what Israelis have always been guaranteed, excusing the culturally internalized rejection of responsibility.
Abu Sarah recognizes the importance of education in a different way. Since conscription wasn't a catalyst, but the shame of being a dishwasher was, on pages 72-74 Abu Sarah elucidates on the importance of men and women both being educated and seeking it should it be withheld. Maoz had explained on pages 78-80 how the IDF cultivates bully mentalities through the psychological testing conscripts undergo. The IDF allegedly institutionally exploits these tendencies in those who score lower on aptitude tests, and through all the examples the book gives of hostilities occuring pinioned by these results, the claim is supported. Even his education noted on page 19, through learning Hebrew, was beneficial in providing building blocks for meaningful interactions that support humanizing those you hold discourse. Breaking through education strata starve state-organized social castes and weaken seats of power from maintaining unchecked strangleholds on the underprivileged.
Which brings me to the most personally affecting subject involved with the dialogue of this book: how do they regard the most underprivileged people group in Middle Eastern countries as a whole? How does Inon and Abu Sarah regard women in this path to peace?
Abu Sarah's academic jouneymanning led him to meet his American wife. He innately recognizes educated matriarchs as invaluable (especially when outsourcing Rabbi Paula to their cause on page 92) by supporting the matriarchal value on page 98. Even when speaking on education and how his older sister fostered his sophomoric pursuits on pages 72-74, he credits women activists as the future on page 136. They are the ones putting themselves in harm's way at peaceful protests, relying on the subdued conscience of IDF soldiers to not be harmed in ways other than financially through tickets and harassment. Female leaders of these peace activist groups will be the vanguard to a lasting peace and self determination of Israel's people. He even honors Odette, the previous owner of what became the Fauzi Azar Inn, for intuiting the sincerity with which Inon approached her. Abu Sarah doesn't seem allergic to the notion that women have a needful and required place at the table of peace.
Inon, however, is less gracious, also through omission and hindsight blindness. It starts on page 31 where Inon acknowledges his mother's education and mentorship/leadership is rejected in the kibbutz. Her wisdom is squandered because misogyny is normalized despite a clamoring for equalized modernity. This is never rectified, nor seems to warrant correction. He also reverses alphabetizing on page 136; "patriarchs and matriarchs", underscoring a culturally accepted hierarchy of importance. But then an underlying condescension begins to reveal itself, as he jokes about finally listening to his wife on page 111, then ragebaits the reader with a conscious disconnect. On pages 139-140, Inon attempts to foster outrage about inequality, but follows up on page 149 about how his son is able to hike through India freely and safely before starting his conscription. He talks about his family's expensive trips to hike across other underprivileged countries on 158-160, 165, and 189, reaffirming a very tangible disconnect between his ethical pursuits and his financial means. Despite a 180 reversal of this negligent stance on page 198, all 197 pages preceding this matriarchal acknowledgement ring perfunctory and hollow.
For dozens of pages, Inon is tone deaf to just short of gloating about how these peace efforts successfully nurtured his entrepreneurial exploits to financially support a grandiose lifestyle. He talked about how the IDF drives so many soldiers to suicide, dividends from the psychological stress of imposing cruelty on their neighbors on page 81, but less than a hundred pages later, is gloating about how his son saved money for this hike across India before commiting to conscription duty. Meanwhile, his neighbors' children can't walk to school without having to avoid people in positions his son may be stationed to guard. His son is less likely to be abducted, trafficked, or murdered for participating in this conspicuous hobby, and Inon never reflects on the tragedy of that; his gender came with blinders because his actions did not know the scrutiny Abu Sarah habitually encountered. Maybe because Inon did not have as many female siblings as Abu Sarah, he did not have to cultivate a sympathetic awareness. Maybe the kibbutz lifestyle culturally affirms men's roles as superior (as referenced from page 31). Maybe it's because women are conscripted for shorter services than men in the IDF, fostering envy and misogyny when hazing and victimization isn't solely an American Air Force scandal.
Scientists have been writing many academic papers regarding epigenetic studies of repeated stressor stimulus on several taxonomic kingdoms for the last couple decades. Barring ethical criticisms, hypothetical attempts to explore permanent genetic change in humans has been limited. Only in very recent years has the study of epigenetic stressors in Holocaust survivors (many of which are credited as recolonizing the area in the book) been analyzed in third- and fourth-generation survivors. The statehood of Israel that Abu Sarah condemns is actually providing a test group, if one considers Western countries like the United States, the United Kingdom, or Canada as control groups (due to their more static political nature). One such study specifically quotes from the time period of the war with Egypt and conflict with Lebanon. This "cultural phenomenon" is revealing mutations to oxytocin receptors over generations that had only been explored in plants, ants, and mice.
It is my faith that broad access to education and scientific analysis, in accordance with Inon and Abu Sarah's belief, will undermine further attempts to maintain political chaos in the Middle East. The more dialogue that can proffer data as an olive branch will overthrow regimes reliant on an ignorant public. The narrators of this book do what they understand best in this book: frame a narrative based on the structure they provide through tourism. Alas, even this approach limits itself as ineffective at best and performative at worst to a Western audience. This book won't reach the hands of Jewish emigrants before they latch onto the religious zeal that drives them habitate in formerly-Palestinian townships. Those who live in Israel don't have financial means nor interest in participating in local tourism when most of these people need government permission slips to go to school. These discussions that need to be made have not found an internally relevant option, but rely on Western pressure by cultivating keyboard warriors. Satisfying worldwide onlooker's salacious desires to virtue signal on social media landscapes. Accidentally serving this unrest without appropriating proper ownership of atrocities to the appropriate terrorist organizations offers a vacuum of accountability ripe for predation.
While the scope of this book is magnanimously broad, it seems all too eager to feed into narratives that poison the very root of human nature causing all the strife in Israel. Abu Sarah's attempt at government election is a serviceable attempt at shifting cultural institutions, and Inon's entrepreneurial ventures have relied on a soft apostasy of the IDF, but non-profit outreach organizations are easily stamped out of relevance by the police state Israel has become.
There is a future in peace, as long as it can be profitable for the warmongers. While these two make a substantial case for it as a profitable venture for tourism, the audience they seek additional interventional support has ethics too frayed and cynicism too staunch to provide long-term dividends. Their approach is too reliant on the privilege held by Western outliers, financially supported outside their own means, like Rabbi Paula and the numerous "non-profit" peace activism groups they associate with. The more the tension cuts into their bottom line, the stronger the magnification gets on my critical lens.
Here's your bag of salt needed before reading this book: using a ChatGPT-sourced "publication" for data regarding Palestinian detainee deaths since the war in Gaza began set off every single bias red flag before I began reading. In the Notes section, it's reference 3 in the Day 3 section. No one is keeping track of this, it's merely aggregated from unconfirmable sources? This book may have a goal for peace, but not for unbiased transparency.
Double paragraph indention on next-to-last paragraph on page 209.
I'm unsure how to approach reviewing this book, as I typically don't read non-fiction or historical accounts in this framework. My knowledge of the Middle East is constantly reframed through hindsight's erosion of bias and despite a handful of on-the-ground sources that circulate on social media, sifting out propaganda is challenging, even when much of my coursework for a Print Media Journalism degree required critical analysis. However, this book looked very special in the approach and execution of its narrative and worthy of the challenge, and I was lucky enough to win a printed ARC in a Goodreads giveaway.
Seeing as I'm part of the Western audience and partially related to the demographic this book is intended to reach (educated moderate women who have participated in equality/peace activism), I examined the approach Aziz and Maoz take with the content in this tour structure and how their personal experiences integrated with the intentions to elicit emotion from the reader. There were a few rubrics I used to examine motive and perspective from the writers involved. One, how they revealed themselves to the reader through omission or inclusion of information. By comparing/contrasting both writer's prejudices and privilege. And finally, how they approach the most disenfranchised people in their region's narrative: women.
The reason for the chapter structure in the book is never elaborated in the entirety of the work, which disappointed me. My understanding of Jewish education and cultural patterns of disseminating an idea is through debate in study hall, or Beit Midrash, where students and teachers alike fervently discuss concepts to either develop or deconstruct ideas in favor of providing education for all parties involved. All the way at page 202, Aziz validates this approach to questions, even when they're not posed politically correct, still lead to vital understanding. In these debate halls is where the staunchest biases lie, bared to the forum. So when the chapters open and close on a joint narrative, then divert to Aziz, then to Maoz, and sometimes back to Aziz, before coalescing back to a united closing concept, it relays a cultural nuance without defining it, handicapping readers rather than helping them follow the purpose for the dialogue's structure.
Maoz Inon is the reader's guide into the Israeli middle-class, whose parents found a way to move from Negev to Netiv HaAsara in Inon's teens so he could access better education. He did his time in the Israeli Defense Force as all conscripted males are to do, then had the financial security to fly to several countries to have hiking tours throughout his life, exercising a freedom wantonly craved by most of his neighbors across the wall. Aziz Abu Sarah is the middle-class Palestinian whose family hopped many bureaucratic hindrances (like moving) to find their children ways to higher education through an Israeli identification card, not long after the untimely death of his older brother. At the same time Maoz was shedding his perceptions of the IDF's function, Aziz was shedding his preconceptions about learning Hebrew and beginning to unravel the psychosocial tangle that created the systematic oppression his family and people constantly hurdled. Childhood boredom transmuted into scholarship, something attainable, even if not readily available to average Gazans. On page 121, he could no longer coexist either, but had to find a way to reconcile himself to the idea that Jerusalem is a sacred trust to be shared. Aziz was the voice Maoz could respect because Aziz was the example to validate Gaza and Palestinians to Israelis who took their freedom for granted.
They had found themselves on the same entrepreneurial footing, but their relationship never took root until Inon faced a tragedy Abu Sarah had long inhabited: losing family to the teeth of unnecessary power struggles. Through Inon's parents' deaths, Abu Sarah extended comfort in solidarity, a tipping point that finally made the issue for Inon personally irrefutable. Not only had the Eight Day War injured him financially (no one felt safe to come utilize Mejdi tours, stay in the Fauzi Azar Inn, etc) and the community ingratiated to his business contracts, and all of the peaceful protests and groups speaking out against unlawful land seizures and resource regulations he had formed coalitions with being harassed, threatened, fined, and injured never enough... The encroachment had finally drawn blood, finally made starkly real. Even from a seat of privilege, Inon was not immune to his own state's overreach.
Which makes some of the exclusions and criticisms land with the force of a tsunami.
Inon seems reticent about crediting extremist groups with their actions. He recognizes Hamas killed his parents on page 16, but never uses condemning language. He complains how aid trucks are being withheld from those starving on page 22, never attributing Hamas or the IDF with their hijacking. The attitude he approaches what the West easily identifies as denouncable actions left me stunned. 'Let them eat Hamas,' was my suggestion as I read this section. When he finally condemns Hamas for their actions, it's at pages 113 and 193. Even on page 17, he credits cruelties with "Arab extremists", despite being closest to media sources that can confirm if it's Hamas, Hezbollah, Palestinian Islamic Jihadis, the Martyrs Brigade, or even Houthis involved. Instead, it reads as protective, catch-all language that drew my scrutiny. Even on page 126 when he acknowledges police do exist as legislatively-appointed bullies, he precedes it on page 35, complaining the IDF soldiers should have been protecting the small kibbutzes, instead of highly sensitive areas like air force bases, nuclear facilities, and government buildings.
Abu Sarah is more candid about assigning blame, yet falls for truncated sourcing later on. He denounces Hamas more frequently, on pages 46 and 49, speaking badly of their actions on page 103 as well, by charging the Palestinian Liberation Organization as complicit to their crimes. He also demonizes Assad and naive Americans participating in Israel's colonization by seizing property through bureaucratic channels repelling native Gazans. Even on page 114, a young Jewish couple from America that imigrated where Palestinians had been stripped of ownership rankle his ire. He doesn't say it outright, but the privilege with which Americans are allowed to ethnically cleanse an area simply through idyllic gentrification isn't lost on me. On page 129, Abu Sarah reiterates how laws intentionally discriminate against Palestinians by installing localized or imported Jewish presences goes back for millenia. It's not the re-establishment that concerns him, but the skew that led to the Jewish population in these areas doubling in twenty years. It wasn't through a political accident. "Settlers" attack townships, forcing out Palestinians from their homes, yet that sounds too organized... Is this another attempt to obfuscate true blame on certain organizations that Inon may favor through omission? Was it a collective of terrorist groups that clamor over credit for the attack, so none are assigned the blame?
Inon and Abu Sarah also approach privilege and freedom differently. Inon suggests how on page 59, politics and polemics are what divide general consensus that foments peace. Yet, if no investment is made in educating the general public, you're expecting fish to run on land. Page 32 discusses how people just 'wait for change to happen', through apathetic ignorance, and passing responsibility is acceptable on page 36. Page 43 acknowledges elders reticent to speak of their traumas, not recognizing that keeping younger generations ignorant of what has occurred dooms future generations to repeat these mistakes. When setbacks occur on pages 44-45, surrender is normalized because institutionalizing hand-wringing allows acknowledgement void of agency. Agency is what Israelis have always been guaranteed, excusing the culturally internalized rejection of responsibility.
Abu Sarah recognizes the importance of education in a different way. Since conscription wasn't a catalyst, but the shame of being a dishwasher was, on pages 72-74 Abu Sarah elucidates on the importance of men and women both being educated and seeking it should it be withheld. Maoz had explained on pages 78-80 how the IDF cultivates bully mentalities through the psychological testing conscripts undergo. The IDF allegedly institutionally exploits these tendencies in those who score lower on aptitude tests, and through all the examples the book gives of hostilities occuring pinioned by these results, the claim is supported. Even his education noted on page 19, through learning Hebrew, was beneficial in providing building blocks for meaningful interactions that support humanizing those you hold discourse. Breaking through education strata starve state-organized social castes and weaken seats of power from maintaining unchecked strangleholds on the underprivileged.
Which brings me to the most personally affecting subject involved with the dialogue of this book: how do they regard the most underprivileged people group in Middle Eastern countries as a whole? How does Inon and Abu Sarah regard women in this path to peace?
Abu Sarah's academic jouneymanning led him to meet his American wife. He innately recognizes educated matriarchs as invaluable (especially when outsourcing Rabbi Paula to their cause on page 92) by supporting the matriarchal value on page 98. Even when speaking on education and how his older sister fostered his sophomoric pursuits on pages 72-74, he credits women activists as the future on page 136. They are the ones putting themselves in harm's way at peaceful protests, relying on the subdued conscience of IDF soldiers to not be harmed in ways other than financially through tickets and harassment. Female leaders of these peace activist groups will be the vanguard to a lasting peace and self determination of Israel's people. He even honors Odette, the previous owner of what became the Fauzi Azar Inn, for intuiting the sincerity with which Inon approached her. Abu Sarah doesn't seem allergic to the notion that women have a needful and required place at the table of peace.
Inon, however, is less gracious, also through omission and hindsight blindness. It starts on page 31 where Inon acknowledges his mother's education and mentorship/leadership is rejected in the kibbutz. Her wisdom is squandered because misogyny is normalized despite a clamoring for equalized modernity. This is never rectified, nor seems to warrant correction. He also reverses alphabetizing on page 136; "patriarchs and matriarchs", underscoring a culturally accepted hierarchy of importance. But then an underlying condescension begins to reveal itself, as he jokes about finally listening to his wife on page 111, then ragebaits the reader with a conscious disconnect. On pages 139-140, Inon attempts to foster outrage about inequality, but follows up on page 149 about how his son is able to hike through India freely and safely before starting his conscription. He talks about his family's expensive trips to hike across other underprivileged countries on 158-160, 165, and 189, reaffirming a very tangible disconnect between his ethical pursuits and his financial means. Despite a 180 reversal of this negligent stance on page 198, all 197 pages preceding this matriarchal acknowledgement ring perfunctory and hollow.
For dozens of pages, Inon is tone deaf to just short of gloating about how these peace efforts successfully nurtured his entrepreneurial exploits to financially support a grandiose lifestyle. He talked about how the IDF drives so many soldiers to suicide, dividends from the psychological stress of imposing cruelty on their neighbors on page 81, but less than a hundred pages later, is gloating about how his son saved money for this hike across India before commiting to conscription duty. Meanwhile, his neighbors' children can't walk to school without having to avoid people in positions his son may be stationed to guard. His son is less likely to be abducted, trafficked, or murdered for participating in this conspicuous hobby, and Inon never reflects on the tragedy of that; his gender came with blinders because his actions did not know the scrutiny Abu Sarah habitually encountered. Maybe because Inon did not have as many female siblings as Abu Sarah, he did not have to cultivate a sympathetic awareness. Maybe the kibbutz lifestyle culturally affirms men's roles as superior (as referenced from page 31). Maybe it's because women are conscripted for shorter services than men in the IDF, fostering envy and misogyny when hazing and victimization isn't solely an American Air Force scandal.
Scientists have been writing many academic papers regarding epigenetic studies of repeated stressor stimulus on several taxonomic kingdoms for the last couple decades. Barring ethical criticisms, hypothetical attempts to explore permanent genetic change in humans has been limited. Only in very recent years has the study of epigenetic stressors in Holocaust survivors (many of which are credited as recolonizing the area in the book) been analyzed in third- and fourth-generation survivors. The statehood of Israel that Abu Sarah condemns is actually providing a test group, if one considers Western countries like the United States, the United Kingdom, or Canada as control groups (due to their more static political nature). One such study specifically quotes from the time period of the war with Egypt and conflict with Lebanon. This "cultural phenomenon" is revealing mutations to oxytocin receptors over generations that had only been explored in plants, ants, and mice.
It is my faith that broad access to education and scientific analysis, in accordance with Inon and Abu Sarah's belief, will undermine further attempts to maintain political chaos in the Middle East. The more dialogue that can proffer data as an olive branch will overthrow regimes reliant on an ignorant public. The narrators of this book do what they understand best in this book: frame a narrative based on the structure they provide through tourism. Alas, even this approach limits itself as ineffective at best and performative at worst to a Western audience. This book won't reach the hands of Jewish emigrants before they latch onto the religious zeal that drives them habitate in formerly-Palestinian townships. Those who live in Israel don't have financial means nor interest in participating in local tourism when most of these people need government permission slips to go to school. These discussions that need to be made have not found an internally relevant option, but rely on Western pressure by cultivating keyboard warriors. Satisfying worldwide onlooker's salacious desires to virtue signal on social media landscapes. Accidentally serving this unrest without appropriating proper ownership of atrocities to the appropriate terrorist organizations offers a vacuum of accountability ripe for predation.
While the scope of this book is magnanimously broad, it seems all too eager to feed into narratives that poison the very root of human nature causing all the strife in Israel. Abu Sarah's attempt at government election is a serviceable attempt at shifting cultural institutions, and Inon's entrepreneurial ventures have relied on a soft apostasy of the IDF, but non-profit outreach organizations are easily stamped out of relevance by the police state Israel has become.
There is a future in peace, as long as it can be profitable for the warmongers. While these two make a substantial case for it as a profitable venture for tourism, the audience they seek additional interventional support has ethics too frayed and cynicism too staunch to provide long-term dividends. Their approach is too reliant on the privilege held by Western outliers, financially supported outside their own means, like Rabbi Paula and the numerous "non-profit" peace activism groups they associate with. The more the tension cuts into their bottom line, the stronger the magnification gets on my critical lens.
Here's your bag of salt needed before reading this book: using a ChatGPT-sourced "publication" for data regarding Palestinian detainee deaths since the war in Gaza began set off every single bias red flag before I began reading. In the Notes section, it's reference 3 in the Day 3 section. No one is keeping track of this, it's merely aggregated from unconfirmable sources? This book may have a goal for peace, but not for unbiased transparency.
April 30, 2026
This should be on every school reading list.
May 5, 2026
So inspiring and heartbreaking
Listened on Audible
Listened on Audible
April 17, 2026
I had very high hopes for The Future is Peace by Aziz Abu Sarah and Maoz Inon, as it claims to be a joint journey across Israel and Palestine with multiple narratives shared. Unfortunately, while I think Aziz was quite open to learning from Maoz, in Maoz's sections it seemed he was reluctant to talk about the Jewish connection to the land and instead shared more Christian and Muslim narratives, thus not actually contributing much to the overall journey shared by the pair.
"Palestinian Aziz Abu Sarah and Israeli Maoz Inon forged a bond of brotherhood when the world expected them to be enemies. Both have lost family to the conflict. Both have known the bitterness of righteous anger. Yet, they chose a different path. In The Future Is Peace, Sarah and Inon take readers on a transformative weeklong journey across a sacred and bloodstained land. Facing competing narratives, they explore how compassion and unity can pull humanity back from the precipice of blind hatred. Throughout their travels, they have been constantly asked: In the face of so much loss, how can we ever find hope? Their answer is always the same. One cannot find hope. We must create it."
I will start by saying that I feel that the idea behind this book and the tours that Aziz and Maoz lead are important and necessary. Israelis and Palestinians have so much more in common than either people is willing to admit, and this could have been a look at those commonalities. Instead, the Jewish viewpoint is minimized and the narrative seems to call to Christian travelers and not those directly effected or involved in the land.
These two quotes are so important: "A peaceful Jerusalem would not belong exclusively to one people or one faith - it would belong to the world, a living symbol that peace is possible."
"We are neighbors, yet we live as strangers. What would happen if we started talking to each other, meeting, shaking hands, sharing meals, learning about each other, asking questions, exchanging stories? We would recognize that our neighbors - those strange 'others' - are ordinary people just like us."
And yet, this is not what the book demonstrated. I will start with Aziz.
Aziz is Palestinian and his brother was imprisoned and beaten which led to his death. He talks about the first and second intifadas but doesn't explain what was done to Israeli civilians during those deadly times. It is not until the end of the book when he mentions suicide bombings at all, although he does acknowledge that Israelis and Palestinians "are conditioned to see each other as potential threats" and to meet each other with violence. He gives blame to Palestinian government as well.
He talks about his nephew who was attacked by Jewish settlers but never mentions the Jews who were killed in the same places. He talks about settlers and settler attacks and destruction of land by settlers and he considers the Israeli army a militant organization. While he is able to walk around the Old City of Jerusalem freely and go to the Muslim holy spot Al-Aqsa Mosque, he doesn't acknowledge that Jews aren't allowed there, while it is atop of Judaism's holiest spot. He sees the aftermath of the Baruch Goldstein attack in Hebron as something that not only killed Palestinians, but thus restricted Muslims from visiting this holy site. In fact, it was the Jews who were restricted from their 2nd holiest site, only being allowed to enter one of the rooms 10 times per year.
After 10/7, Aziz reached out to Maoz. It is until page 199 until he talks about his attempt to get to know the Israeli Jewish past by going to Yad Vashem. But he uses this section to talk about attacks against Palestinians in 1948, lamenting that there is no memorial for these attacks (and I agree there should be - maybe in Palestinian controlled areas?). He says that the difference between the two people's traumas is that the Palestinian trauma is ongoing. I would say Israeli trauma is too. A story told about a young Palestinian murdered in Gaza is so similar to the stories of young Israelis murdered or made to witness murder on 10/7. These common stories could be embraced to lead to the end of such incidents.
Maoz uses his own sections to share even further about how he feels about Israel, its army, and its government, with very little about the actual people of the land and the Jewish connection there. The book begins with his story - his parents were murdered on 10/7. He explained that his family previously lived on a kibbutz but needed to "escape" the life there. He speaks only from his own viewpoint and that of his siblings, including very few other Israeli perspectives. He buys into the idea that the 10/7 attacks had to happen: "When people are suffering, when they have no political agency and when nonviolent resistance is met by crushing military oppression, they reach for the last tool in the toolbox: devastating violence." He never explains why this military control was in effect to begin with. He considered his time in the army a nightmare and talks about his disappointment that his son was going to the army, but two sentences later he admits that army service is required. He does include a very brief mention of Israelis being prohibited from entering parts of the West Bank, Israelis who were killed in Ramallah, and the 1929 attack in Hebron. He goes on to say that he is most at home in Nazareth - an almost completely Arab city within Israel with strong connections to Christianity and very little to Judaism.
The tour group mentioned throughout the book seems to concentrate on Christian history and stories, and not Jewish ones. Maoz distances himself from his own background. What I did not understand was why he opened a guest house in Nazareth, and not in a city like Jaffa where Jews and Arabs both live and are able to visit. Or why not open something in a Jewish area and invite Palestinians there? I'm not sure how he can teach multiple narratives when Jewish Israelis are excluded. When Maoz devotes one page to Jerusalem's Jewish quarter, he quickly reverts back to talking about his hostel in Nazareth. The tour group seems to bring Israelis to the West Bank but not Palestinians to Jewish areas. How does this create cross cultural communication and appreciation? I would have loved to know what the Israeli tour guides share about their own families and culture. It seems likely that they only share how they were brought up to misunderstand Palestinians.
So, while I appreciate the idea behind this book, I do not think it is well executed and it does not read as a conversation or even one with "competing narratives." Aziz and Maoz seem to have the same perspectives as one another and likely need others who are open to peaceful discussion but don't deny the Jewish connection and history in Israel like Maoz seems to.
"Palestinian Aziz Abu Sarah and Israeli Maoz Inon forged a bond of brotherhood when the world expected them to be enemies. Both have lost family to the conflict. Both have known the bitterness of righteous anger. Yet, they chose a different path. In The Future Is Peace, Sarah and Inon take readers on a transformative weeklong journey across a sacred and bloodstained land. Facing competing narratives, they explore how compassion and unity can pull humanity back from the precipice of blind hatred. Throughout their travels, they have been constantly asked: In the face of so much loss, how can we ever find hope? Their answer is always the same. One cannot find hope. We must create it."
I will start by saying that I feel that the idea behind this book and the tours that Aziz and Maoz lead are important and necessary. Israelis and Palestinians have so much more in common than either people is willing to admit, and this could have been a look at those commonalities. Instead, the Jewish viewpoint is minimized and the narrative seems to call to Christian travelers and not those directly effected or involved in the land.
These two quotes are so important: "A peaceful Jerusalem would not belong exclusively to one people or one faith - it would belong to the world, a living symbol that peace is possible."
"We are neighbors, yet we live as strangers. What would happen if we started talking to each other, meeting, shaking hands, sharing meals, learning about each other, asking questions, exchanging stories? We would recognize that our neighbors - those strange 'others' - are ordinary people just like us."
And yet, this is not what the book demonstrated. I will start with Aziz.
Aziz is Palestinian and his brother was imprisoned and beaten which led to his death. He talks about the first and second intifadas but doesn't explain what was done to Israeli civilians during those deadly times. It is not until the end of the book when he mentions suicide bombings at all, although he does acknowledge that Israelis and Palestinians "are conditioned to see each other as potential threats" and to meet each other with violence. He gives blame to Palestinian government as well.
He talks about his nephew who was attacked by Jewish settlers but never mentions the Jews who were killed in the same places. He talks about settlers and settler attacks and destruction of land by settlers and he considers the Israeli army a militant organization. While he is able to walk around the Old City of Jerusalem freely and go to the Muslim holy spot Al-Aqsa Mosque, he doesn't acknowledge that Jews aren't allowed there, while it is atop of Judaism's holiest spot. He sees the aftermath of the Baruch Goldstein attack in Hebron as something that not only killed Palestinians, but thus restricted Muslims from visiting this holy site. In fact, it was the Jews who were restricted from their 2nd holiest site, only being allowed to enter one of the rooms 10 times per year.
After 10/7, Aziz reached out to Maoz. It is until page 199 until he talks about his attempt to get to know the Israeli Jewish past by going to Yad Vashem. But he uses this section to talk about attacks against Palestinians in 1948, lamenting that there is no memorial for these attacks (and I agree there should be - maybe in Palestinian controlled areas?). He says that the difference between the two people's traumas is that the Palestinian trauma is ongoing. I would say Israeli trauma is too. A story told about a young Palestinian murdered in Gaza is so similar to the stories of young Israelis murdered or made to witness murder on 10/7. These common stories could be embraced to lead to the end of such incidents.
Maoz uses his own sections to share even further about how he feels about Israel, its army, and its government, with very little about the actual people of the land and the Jewish connection there. The book begins with his story - his parents were murdered on 10/7. He explained that his family previously lived on a kibbutz but needed to "escape" the life there. He speaks only from his own viewpoint and that of his siblings, including very few other Israeli perspectives. He buys into the idea that the 10/7 attacks had to happen: "When people are suffering, when they have no political agency and when nonviolent resistance is met by crushing military oppression, they reach for the last tool in the toolbox: devastating violence." He never explains why this military control was in effect to begin with. He considered his time in the army a nightmare and talks about his disappointment that his son was going to the army, but two sentences later he admits that army service is required. He does include a very brief mention of Israelis being prohibited from entering parts of the West Bank, Israelis who were killed in Ramallah, and the 1929 attack in Hebron. He goes on to say that he is most at home in Nazareth - an almost completely Arab city within Israel with strong connections to Christianity and very little to Judaism.
The tour group mentioned throughout the book seems to concentrate on Christian history and stories, and not Jewish ones. Maoz distances himself from his own background. What I did not understand was why he opened a guest house in Nazareth, and not in a city like Jaffa where Jews and Arabs both live and are able to visit. Or why not open something in a Jewish area and invite Palestinians there? I'm not sure how he can teach multiple narratives when Jewish Israelis are excluded. When Maoz devotes one page to Jerusalem's Jewish quarter, he quickly reverts back to talking about his hostel in Nazareth. The tour group seems to bring Israelis to the West Bank but not Palestinians to Jewish areas. How does this create cross cultural communication and appreciation? I would have loved to know what the Israeli tour guides share about their own families and culture. It seems likely that they only share how they were brought up to misunderstand Palestinians.
So, while I appreciate the idea behind this book, I do not think it is well executed and it does not read as a conversation or even one with "competing narratives." Aziz and Maoz seem to have the same perspectives as one another and likely need others who are open to peaceful discussion but don't deny the Jewish connection and history in Israel like Maoz seems to.
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April 28, 2026 Peace builders have been marginalized, both at home and abroad for far too long. We are not invited to sit at negotiation tables or included in international summits with those making decisions on making decisions on behalf of our peoples. We are used to being dismissed as dreamers and marked as being naïeve. Yet we are realists. We know that bombs will not bring quiet, walls will not protect us, and war will not bring security to either side. What is truly naive is imagining that fear and multigenerational trauma will lead to security or that any strategy to end the horror of this conflict can succeed without dreamers and visionaries at the vanguard.
i saw Aziz Abu Sarah and Maoz Inon on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, and the interview made me want to check out this book. if i were God (and wow i sure am not, but i might be an atheist), i would drop this book especially on the heads of anyone who thinks that Peace is saccarine and too precious, anyone whose preference (i would call it a deeply entrenched aesthetic preference and treatable media-made mental illness, but what do i know!) is always for something other than Peace- for instead worshiping how surrealistically and inescapably beyond-horrific and hypnotically/addictively complicated it all is. i needed this beauty: Sarah's and Inon's kindness within their ability to envision Peace regardless of how marginalized and condescended to messagers of Peace ever are; this guided tour of Palestine and Israel as led by two lovely, decisive and compassionately responsive, war-worn men from the two different sides of an ultra-violently divicive wall that has fatally cut through both of their families and souls; different sides of the same story- literally.
i saw Aziz Abu Sarah and Maoz Inon on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, and the interview made me want to check out this book. if i were God (and wow i sure am not, but i might be an atheist), i would drop this book especially on the heads of anyone who thinks that Peace is saccarine and too precious, anyone whose preference (i would call it a deeply entrenched aesthetic preference and treatable media-made mental illness, but what do i know!) is always for something other than Peace- for instead worshiping how surrealistically and inescapably beyond-horrific and hypnotically/addictively complicated it all is. i needed this beauty: Sarah's and Inon's kindness within their ability to envision Peace regardless of how marginalized and condescended to messagers of Peace ever are; this guided tour of Palestine and Israel as led by two lovely, decisive and compassionately responsive, war-worn men from the two different sides of an ultra-violently divicive wall that has fatally cut through both of their families and souls; different sides of the same story- literally.
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May 3, 2026"When each side believes that the other is a threat to its existence, talk of peace can feel like a betrayal of one's people."
"And for Israelis and Palestinians, whose lives play out in isolated proximity to one another, there is another layer. It's not only that we don't know each other. It's that so many of us are convinced that we know everything we need to know about each other, those on the "other side" It takes away our curiosity, our urge to reach out, to learn. This polarization and hatred come from the illusion that many of us believe we already know what is in the others' hearts and minds."
"This country is full of relics from the past and monuments to the dead. We are a nation of fallen soldiers, a nation of memorials. How much more land must we devote to graves? When will we start building a future for the living?... 'We are doomed to live here together, and we have to choose whether to share this land or the graveyard under it.'"
"We are neighbors, yet we live as strangers. What would happen if we started talking to each other, meeting, shaking hands, sharing meals, learning about each other, asking questions, exchanging stories?"
My dad's friend co-wrote this so I picked it up! I liked the larger point- we aren't going to solve this conflict through more violence. I had trouble with the imbalance of the stories shared- the book seemed to promise to deliver a dual-narrative but I felt it consistently underplayed and misrepresented the trauma on the Israeli side. Either way, I am glad I read this, and I hope Moaz and Aziz's message is right and comes true sooner rather than later.
"And for Israelis and Palestinians, whose lives play out in isolated proximity to one another, there is another layer. It's not only that we don't know each other. It's that so many of us are convinced that we know everything we need to know about each other, those on the "other side" It takes away our curiosity, our urge to reach out, to learn. This polarization and hatred come from the illusion that many of us believe we already know what is in the others' hearts and minds."
"This country is full of relics from the past and monuments to the dead. We are a nation of fallen soldiers, a nation of memorials. How much more land must we devote to graves? When will we start building a future for the living?... 'We are doomed to live here together, and we have to choose whether to share this land or the graveyard under it.'"
"We are neighbors, yet we live as strangers. What would happen if we started talking to each other, meeting, shaking hands, sharing meals, learning about each other, asking questions, exchanging stories?"
My dad's friend co-wrote this so I picked it up! I liked the larger point- we aren't going to solve this conflict through more violence. I had trouble with the imbalance of the stories shared- the book seemed to promise to deliver a dual-narrative but I felt it consistently underplayed and misrepresented the trauma on the Israeli side. Either way, I am glad I read this, and I hope Moaz and Aziz's message is right and comes true sooner rather than later.
May 5, 2026
I thought this book would be a scholarly discussion of ways to promote peace between Israelis and the Palestinians. It was written by a Palestinian and an Israel and they are co-CEO's of a non profit that works for peace in the ME.
But although there is a lot to admire about these men individually , their narrative is not objective and is not well researched. They assume that anything that somebody tells them is factual, which is not reasonable. They have less than 30 footnotes for a book of 200 pages.
The Israeli narrative is all told from the European Jewish perspective. However, ME Jews are are a greater percentage of Israeli population than European Jews.
The authors want us to believe that with enough forgiveness and personal relationships between the differing sides peace will develop. They don't touch the trauma of the kibbutzim that were attacked on 10/7 with help from the Gazans that the Kibbutzim employed. They mention how Arabs moved from Hebron to Jerusalem because Jews were moving to Jerusalem. However, they fail to give one sentence to the massacre of Jews by Palestinians in 1929... that made the survivors leave Hebron.
I feel this book is only for people who believe the same things as the authors and want to confirmation of their beliefs. I found other books better at showing the differing sides and the complexities of the issues.
It's depressing if this is the best hope we have for peace between the Palestinians and Israelis who both have deep history in this land and need to find a way to share it.
But although there is a lot to admire about these men individually , their narrative is not objective and is not well researched. They assume that anything that somebody tells them is factual, which is not reasonable. They have less than 30 footnotes for a book of 200 pages.
The Israeli narrative is all told from the European Jewish perspective. However, ME Jews are are a greater percentage of Israeli population than European Jews.
The authors want us to believe that with enough forgiveness and personal relationships between the differing sides peace will develop. They don't touch the trauma of the kibbutzim that were attacked on 10/7 with help from the Gazans that the Kibbutzim employed. They mention how Arabs moved from Hebron to Jerusalem because Jews were moving to Jerusalem. However, they fail to give one sentence to the massacre of Jews by Palestinians in 1929... that made the survivors leave Hebron.
I feel this book is only for people who believe the same things as the authors and want to confirmation of their beliefs. I found other books better at showing the differing sides and the complexities of the issues.
It's depressing if this is the best hope we have for peace between the Palestinians and Israelis who both have deep history in this land and need to find a way to share it.
April 28, 2026
This may be the best book I've read in 2026. It is important. It is hard. It made me cry and it made me laugh. Two lifelong peaceniks both of whom have lost family in the conflict set out to discover each other's histories and whether they have any shared language.
“We live next to one another, yet we are segregated by roadblocks and checkpoints. We share the same dream of a better future for our children, but we are so divided by fear and anger that we cannot recognize one another's humanity. The wounds of our history run deep, but if we are to build a shared future, we must bring down the walls of ignorance and hatred that divide us.”
AMongst all the bloodshed particularly after October 7th, can they ever find hope? Their answer is always the same. One cannot find hope. We must create it. (which I feel like I have been trying to do forever, or at least since 1983)
How do we talk about Israeli Independence and the Nakba? How do we learn to trust. Can you build a hostel in Nazareth without it being hostile?
For me, this book maybe life changing. And not just because I am taking a 2 semester post ordination class on peacemaking and conflict resolution. This book was not on the syllabus but it should be.
“We live next to one another, yet we are segregated by roadblocks and checkpoints. We share the same dream of a better future for our children, but we are so divided by fear and anger that we cannot recognize one another's humanity. The wounds of our history run deep, but if we are to build a shared future, we must bring down the walls of ignorance and hatred that divide us.”
AMongst all the bloodshed particularly after October 7th, can they ever find hope? Their answer is always the same. One cannot find hope. We must create it. (which I feel like I have been trying to do forever, or at least since 1983)
How do we talk about Israeli Independence and the Nakba? How do we learn to trust. Can you build a hostel in Nazareth without it being hostile?
For me, this book maybe life changing. And not just because I am taking a 2 semester post ordination class on peacemaking and conflict resolution. This book was not on the syllabus but it should be.
May 8, 2026
The Future of Peace, already a New York Times nonfiction bestseller, is a “must read”!
I think of this book everyday. More importantly, it inspires me to act.
Co-authors, Maoz Inon and Aziz Abu-Sarah, share their compelling stories, including personal family tragedies; how they became friends and “brothers”; their inspiring shared vision for peace; and their call for each of us to play a role.
While the location backdrop of the book is predominantly Palestine and Israel, its messages are universal. My personal top takeaways: 1) Hope is an action. 2) Whether to a different neighborhood or across an ocean, go travel with an open heart and curious mind. Human connections are a vital part of a pathway to peace.
As I write this review, Aziz and Maoz are still in the midst of their book launch tour. Check out the Events information on The Future is Peace website to find out where and when they’ll be speaking in Europe and the US in the next few weeks. If you’re anywhere in proximity, go!
I think of this book everyday. More importantly, it inspires me to act.
Co-authors, Maoz Inon and Aziz Abu-Sarah, share their compelling stories, including personal family tragedies; how they became friends and “brothers”; their inspiring shared vision for peace; and their call for each of us to play a role.
While the location backdrop of the book is predominantly Palestine and Israel, its messages are universal. My personal top takeaways: 1) Hope is an action. 2) Whether to a different neighborhood or across an ocean, go travel with an open heart and curious mind. Human connections are a vital part of a pathway to peace.
As I write this review, Aziz and Maoz are still in the midst of their book launch tour. Check out the Events information on The Future is Peace website to find out where and when they’ll be speaking in Europe and the US in the next few weeks. If you’re anywhere in proximity, go!
March 1, 2026
I’m really glad that I got an early copy of this book! I loved every bit of “The Future is Peace” from the personal experiences of the writers to the history of the land. I urge everyone to buy this book when it comes out, especially the militant defenders of Israel and Hamas. They need to hear this the most! In an age of constant dehumanization, this book humanizes the “other.” The Christian value of forgiveness is a major theme in this book. Aziz and Maoz, a Palestinian and an Israeli, truly understand forgiveness in the way Jesus taught it. These two individuals who both lost family and friends to the violence refuse to be consumed by revenge. They refuse to continue the cycle of oppression. If these two individuals can put forgiveness first, everyone can. God bless Aziz and Maoz for showing people the first step on the path to peace!
April 17, 2026
This excellent book emphasizes dialogue that prioritizes listening over winning, along with community‑driven collaboration that rebuilds trust from the ground up. The book also encourages cultivating empathy through shared projects and cross‑cultural exchanges, showing how everyday connections can gradually dissolve long‑standing divides. Both of these men had family members killed but instead of holding on to hatred, retaliation and revenge they chose to try and heal others and end the cycles of violence and bloodshed. This book talks of a future where people value those that are different then them and choose leaders that desire peace, reconciliation and trust with each other. This book explains how a future of peace is the only future that will work for that very small area and also small population of the middle east.
May 2, 2026
This was eye opening. A very balance approach. I started this book with a minimum understanding. I came into this book honestly with more sympathy to the Palestinian side. At the end I was shown a better understanding of both sides and now I have sympathy for both and the need to gain peace for both sides. Both sides have had trauma but the book said “the difference is that the trauma of the Palestinian people is still ongoing.” For peace to happen both sides need to be at the table and “in order to achieve security and peace, all people must have equality and dignity.” This book has given me hope that peace can happen. These 2 authors from opposing sides with their own trauma have come together to help usher in peace.
May 8, 2026
Take the time to read this book. It is worth it. These are stories to absorb and ponder. The authors give us stories to help us absorb the history of modern Palestine and Israel. As I paraphrase from the authors, “for there is no place on Earth that doesn’t share more than one history.” We hear the region’s history through different eyes. And just sit with it. That is the miracle of this book.
I listened to the audio and enjoyed hearing the narrators voices, but my older ears had trouble with the low pitch of the voices coupled with their accents. In retrospect, print would have been better for me - or a combo listen/read. I also had a harder time with names and proper nouns without having a visual on the word.
I listened to the audio and enjoyed hearing the narrators voices, but my older ears had trouble with the low pitch of the voices coupled with their accents. In retrospect, print would have been better for me - or a combo listen/read. I also had a harder time with names and proper nouns without having a visual on the word.
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