Michael: Most of us think we know the basics of the Israel-Palestine conflict. Two sides, ancient hatreds, a tragic cycle of violence. But what if that entire framework is wrong? What if it's not a conflict between two equals, but a story of colonialism that's still happening today? Kevin: That’s a pretty radical reframing. The narrative we always get is that it’s just impossibly complicated, that both sides are locked in this historical struggle. The idea that one side is a colonial power and the other is the indigenous population… that changes everything. Michael: It absolutely does. And that's the explosive premise at the heart of On Palestine, a series of dialogues between Noam Chomsky and Ilan Pappé, edited by Frank Barat. Kevin: And these aren't just any authors. Chomsky is one of the world's most famous political critics, and Ilan Pappé is a leading Israeli 'New Historian'—a group of scholars who've challenged Israel's official version of its own history. This book was actually a follow-up to a previous one, born because the editor, an activist himself, wanted to capture a real, dynamic debate between them, not just static interviews. Michael: Exactly. He put them in a room at MIT for a few days to hash it out. And their central argument is that to even begin to understand the situation, you have to start with the very language we use to describe it.

Michael: Pappé kicks off the book with a powerful idea: we need a "new conversation" about Palestine, which requires a "new dictionary." He argues the old dictionary, with words like "peace process," "negotiations," and "two-state solution," is essentially propaganda. Kevin: Okay, hold on. How can the term "peace process" be propaganda? It sounds like the most hopeful phrase you could use. Michael: That's the genius of it, according to Pappé. He says the phrase creates the illusion of progress and moral equivalence, making it seem like two equal sides are just failing to get along. The "new dictionary" he proposes uses much starker terms: "settler-colonialism," "ethnic cleansing," and "apartheid." Kevin: Wow. "Ethnic cleansing" is a huge accusation. That's a term with a very specific, and horrifying, legal and moral weight. How does he justify using it? Michael: He grounds it in the historical event that Palestinians call the Nakba, or "the catastrophe," in 1948. This is the foundational moment for the "new conversation." The book lays out the data: when the state of Israel was established, it wasn't an empty land. Around 750,000 Palestinians—about half the population at the time—were expelled from their homes. Over 500 Palestinian villages were systematically destroyed. Kevin: So Pappé's argument is that this wasn't an accidental consequence of war, but a deliberate, planned policy? Michael: Precisely. He defines it as ethnic cleansing because it was a systematic effort to remove the indigenous population to create a Jewish-majority state. The goal was, in his words, to have "as much of Palestine as possible with as few Palestinians in it as possible." He argues that you can't understand anything that happens today—the occupation, the siege of Gaza, the settlements—without seeing it as a continuation of that initial act of dispossession. Kevin: I see. So when we hear politicians talking about the "peace process," we're essentially being sold a story that starts in the middle. It deliberately ignores the foundational event that, from the Palestinian perspective, is the original crime. Michael: That's the core of the argument. The book claims the tale of Palestine is a "simple story of colonialism and dispossession," but the world, and the language of diplomacy, treats it as a "multifaceted and complex story—hard to understand and even harder to solve." That complexity, Pappé says, is manufactured to paralyze action and obscure the basic injustice. Kevin: It’s like two people arguing over a stolen car, and the mediator insists on only talking about who should pay for gas, while refusing to discuss the fact that the car was stolen in the first place. Michael: That's a perfect analogy. And it leads directly to the book's next major point: this isn't just about events that happened over 70 years ago. There were clear moments, much more recently, where a different path could have been chosen, but wasn't.

Kevin: That makes sense. If you start the story in 1948, it's a completely different narrative. But the book argues this isn't just about the past, right? There are decisions made decades later that lock this in. Michael: Exactly. The book is relentless on this point: the past is never past. And it presents a stunning example from 1971 that completely shatters a common myth about Israel. Kevin: Which myth is that? Michael: The myth that Israel has always been a small nation desperately seeking peace in a sea of hostile neighbors who want to destroy it. Chomsky brings up a pivotal, and often forgotten, moment in 1971. The president of Egypt, Anwar Sadat, offered Israel a full peace treaty. Kevin: A full peace treaty? What were the terms? Michael: The terms were simple: Israel would withdraw from the Sinai Peninsula, which it had captured in the 1967 war, in exchange for a comprehensive peace agreement. This was a massive opportunity. The Israeli government, under Prime Minister Golda Meir, seriously considered it. Kevin: So what happened? Why aren't we taught about the 1971 peace? Michael: Because Israel turned it down. The cabinet debated and made a conscious decision. They chose territorial expansion over security. They decided they would rather build settlements and colonize the Sinai than have a peace treaty with their most powerful Arab neighbor. Chomsky quotes this as the moment Israel made its choice, a choice it has stuck with ever since: "Israel prefers expansion over security." Kevin: Hold on. A full peace treaty was on the table, and they turned it down to build more settlements? That completely upends the narrative. It suggests the driving force wasn't just self-defense, but a desire for more land. Michael: That's precisely the conclusion the book draws. And this decision had enormous consequences. It led directly to the 1973 Yom Kippur War, which was devastating for Israel. And even after that, when they eventually did give back the Sinai at Camp David, it was on less favorable terms. But the pattern was set. Kevin: So the dispossession in '48 and the choice for expansion in '71 are two sides of the same coin. It's about maximizing territory. Michael: Yes. And this historical context is crucial for understanding what happens in the present. It’s why the book is so critical of the idea that Palestinians should just "move on" and "forget the past." Forgetting the past means accepting the logic of the colonizer. Kevin: And it also explains the deep skepticism towards any new offers or agreements. If you've seen a full peace treaty rejected in favor of settlements, why would you trust the next round of "negotiations"? Michael: You wouldn't. And that brings us to the book's third, and perhaps most devastating, argument: how this pattern plays out today in the cycle of violence we constantly see in the news, particularly around the concept of ceasefires.

Michael: The book has a chapter titled "Ceasefires in Which Violations Never Cease," and it documents a brutal, repeating cycle. It goes like this: a ceasefire is agreed upon between Israel and Hamas. Hamas, for the most part, observes it. But Israel almost immediately begins violating it with smaller-scale actions—arrest raids in the West Bank, killing militants in Gaza, tightening the blockade. Kevin: So, poking the bear, essentially. Michael: Exactly. These provocations continue until Hamas eventually retaliates, usually with rocket fire. And that retaliation is then used by Israel as the public justification for a massive, pre-planned military operation. The world's media tunes in only when the rockets fly from Gaza, not during the weeks or months of Israeli provocations that preceded them. Kevin: So the ceasefires are almost a theatrical performance for the international community, while the real objective continues underneath? Michael: That's the argument. Let's look at the lead-up to Operation Cast Lead in 2008. A ceasefire was in place. The terms required Israel to open the border crossings to allow goods into Gaza. Israel refused, demanding the release of a captured soldier, a condition not in the original agreement. Then, on November 4th, while the world's attention was on the US election, Israeli troops entered Gaza and killed several Hamas militants. Hamas responded with rockets, and a few weeks later, Israel launched a full-scale war, which they called Operation Cast Lead. Kevin: It’s a script. A predictable, horrifying script. And the world only ever seems to see the final act. Michael: And Chomsky is adamant on this point: none of this is possible without the United States. Israel can be a pariah state, the whole world can condemn them, but as long as the US backs them, it doesn't matter. The US provides the billions in military aid, it provides the advanced weaponry, and most importantly, it provides the diplomatic cover by using its veto power at the UN Security Council to block any resolution that would hold Israel accountable. Kevin: I remember the book mentioning the US vetoed a UN resolution for a two-state settlement way back in 1976. So this has been the policy for decades. Michael: For decades. The US is not a neutral mediator; it is an active participant in the conflict, enabling Israel's actions. This is why the authors argue that any real change for Palestinians depends on a fundamental shift in US policy. The pressure has to be applied in Washington. Kevin: It’s a bleak picture. The language is deceptive, the history is ignored, and the cycle of violence is enabled by the world's only superpower. It makes you feel a bit hopeless. Michael: The authors are definitely not optimistic in the short term. But they argue that understanding this reality is the first step. They believe that if enough people, especially in the West, start using the "new dictionary" and demanding that their governments stop being complicit, the calculus could change. Just as it did with Apartheid South Africa.

Kevin: So, if you piece it all together, the book's argument is that we're not watching a 'conflict.' We're watching the logical, long-term outcome of a colonial project. The language is designed to confuse us, the history is deliberately ignored, and the violence is cyclical and enabled by the world's biggest superpower. Michael: That's it exactly. It’s a dismantling of the entire narrative we’ve been fed. And that's why the authors argue that the most effective thing people can do is not just feel sympathy, but to understand and challenge these three pillars: the deceptive language, the historical erasure, and the US policy that underwrites it all. The first step is to change the conversation. Kevin: It's a powerful and, for many, a deeply controversial book. It's been praised for its clarity but also criticized for being one-sided. But it forces you to confront the foundations of your own understanding. It really makes you question the narratives we're given about any major global event. How much are we missing by just accepting the official language? Michael: A profound and necessary question. The book doesn't offer easy answers, but it offers a powerful lens. And sometimes, seeing clearly is the most radical act of all. Kevin: A powerful lens indeed. Thanks for unpacking that, Michael. Michael: This is Aibrary, signing off.