Humanity has been a casualty in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict

Andrew Miller is a senior fellow for Middle East Policy at the Center for American Progress. He previously served as the deputy assistant secretary of state for Israeli-Palestinian affairs in the Biden administration.
The last eight months of my tenure as deputy assistant secretary of state for Israeli-Palestinian affairs were defined by tragedy and loss.
Hamas’ horrific terrorist attacks on Oct. 7 killed roughly 1,200 people — mostly civilians — and resulted in another 251 hostages, devastating Israeli communities near the Gaza border and leading to mass evacuations. In the ensuing Israel-Hamas war in Gaza, Israel has killed over 40,000 people according to the Gaza-based Ministry of Health, including thousands of women and children, and displaced about 90 percent of Gaza’s population of over 2 million.
Working on the war, I heard the most heartbreaking stories from both Israelis and Palestinians: Hostage families left in suspense over the fate of loved ones; displaced Israelis traumatized by the joy with which Hamas militants killed innocents just as much as by the murders themselves; former peace activists bitterly recalling their belief in the possibility of coexistence; panicked Americans with family in Gaza, desperately trying to help them leave or at least reach a safer location in the territory; a Palestinian who broke into tears as she received a message her family had been killed in Israeli airstrikes.
And based on what I observed, I came to recognize another cost of the violence that’s just as pernicious, if less conspicuous: the dehumanization of the other.
Israeli denial of Palestinian humanity, and Palestinian denial of Israeli humanity, has its roots in the earliest days of mass Jewish settlement in the land comprising Israel, the West Bank and Gaza in the late 19th century. But while antisemitism and anti-Arab sentiment have long histories, the categorical rejection of the other’s identity is a product of these more modern contesting national narratives — one Zionist, the other Palestinian.
Israelis have long lived in the shadow of violence from Hamas and myriad other terrorist groups who seek their nation’s destruction, while Palestinians have long lived under the oppression of an occupation that denies their most basic rights. Thus, the events of the last year should be understood not as a new phenomenon but rather the ugly, bloody culmination of a longer process, years in the making.
Hamas’ casual yet deliberate murder of defenseless civilians and the sexual abuse of Israeli women were enabled by the denial of their humanity — not surprising from a terrorist organization that refers to Israelis and Jews as “apes and pigs.” However, the ghoulish atmosphere in which throngs of people in Gaza — including Hamas militants but also some Palestinian civilians — celebrated the arrival of kidnapped and dead Israelis, some abusing their corpses, is indicative of something much deeper and systemic.
Indeed, though Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas rejected “killing civilians or abusing them on both sides,” a senior official in his Fatah Party defended Hamas’ involvement in the Palestinian cause post-Oct. 7 as “important” and “part of our social and political fabric.” Moreover, according to a Palestinian poll, 73 percent of Palestinians approved of the attacks, implicitly endorsing the inhumane methods employed.
For their part, senior Israeli officials have referred to Palestinians as “animals,” called for the “total annihilation” of Gaza and invoked the biblical Amalek — a nation that, depending on interpretation, was wiped out by either God or the ancient Israelites. Extensive footage of Israeli soldiers looting Palestinian homes as they mock the former inhabitants, the rampant sexual abuse of Palestinians in Israeli prisons and the obstruction of humanitarian convoys destined for Gaza encouraged by certain Israeli ministers all fall into this category as well.
Similarly, Pew polling from May indicates Israelis broadly support aggressive military action in Gaza, with 73 percent saying the Israel Defense Forces campaign has either been “about right” or “not gone far enough.”
To be fair, the administration of U.S. President Joe Biden contributed to this problem unintentionally. In its initial response to Oct. 7, it used intemperate language intended to express solidarity with the Israeli people, which alienated many in the Arab and Muslim world — as well as a significant number of Americans. Thankfully, public messaging has improved over time, and Vice President Kamala Harris has exhibited an ability to empathize with both sides. By contrast, former President Donald Trump has both employed “Palestinian” as an epithet and regularly used antisemitic language. 
But this ongoing dehumanization between Israelis and Palestinian isn’t just a moral crisis, it’s also an obstacle to peace — whether in the form of a two-state solution or any other alternative.
Of course, it’s challenging to make peace with one’s enemies, but it’s impossible to do so with a people one views as less than human. Trust and respect, which are essential for any negotiated agreement, are based on a perception of equality. And in the absence of a shared sense of humanity, final-status issues of borders, Jerusalem, refugees and security become binary, zero-sum propositions that don’t admit of compromise.
Though it will be neither easy nor quick, Israelis and Palestinians can begin to reverse dehumanization. It’ll require two victimized and traumatized populations to recognize that neither are going anywhere, and that their futures are irreversibly interdependent and commingled. They’ll need to break free of the tendency to view acknowledgement of the other’s suffering as somehow detracting from their own pain when, in truth, their own humanity depends on empathy. They’ll also have to learn to differentiate between understanding and justification, as well as universality and false equivalencies. To be frank, these are lessons many Americans and Europeans need to learn as well.
Most of all, however, overcoming dehumanization will require inspired, broad-minded leadership, which, unfortunately, is in short supply. Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu’s entire political career has been predicated on stoking divisions — between Israelis and Palestinians, as well as among Israelis. And while Abbas has remained committed to resolving the conflict through negotiation, he has also made deeply offensive remarks about the Holocaust and lacks the popular legitimacy to influence his public.
What’s worse, there are no obvious leaders on the horizon in either Israel or the Palestinian territories who can transcend their predecessors’ limitations. Nevertheless, Biden can use his final months in the White House to help shape more favorable conditions that could aid the emergence of leaders committed to healing these wounds.
This war must end now, with the return of hostages, security for both Israelis and Palestinians, and massive reconstruction for Gaza. The U.S. administration has been working on a deal to achieve these goals for months now, but it’s now time for the president to get tougher on Netanyahu and regional actors with influence over Hamas. He needs to address Palestinians with the genuine empathy he’s demonstrated — and should continue to demonstrate — for Israelis.
And, finally, he can leverage tools available to the U.S. government, such as sanctions, to encourage Israelis and Palestinians to hold those who peddle in hate and facilitate abuse to account.