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From conflict to coexistence: religious resources for peace in israeli–palestine conflict

The article examines the ambivalent role of religion in the Israel–Palestine conflict and its implications for religious peacebuilding. It outlines core peacebuilding frameworks, shows how religious identities shape the sacralization of space and the politicization of faith, and reviews religious literacy, interfaith initiatives, and spiritual mediation, noting recurrent limits. A brief reading of the recent six-step Gaza agreement highlights the absence of religious references—procedural neutrality that may aid consensus but calls for a stable consultative forum to turn technical provisions into coexistence practices. Religion, seen as an ethical-relational sphere, can support nonviolent transformation and shared memory.

1. Introduction

The current Israeli-Palestinian conflict has shown that the relationship between religion, territory and human rights is much closer than one might think.

Religion is often perceived as an ambivalent force in contemporary conflicts: on the one hand, it can fuel fanaticism, identity rigidity and justifications for violence; on the other, it can be a powerful vehicle for reconciliation, forgiveness and peacebuilding. This dual nature has now emerged clearly in Peace Studies^[1] , which are leading to a gradual departure from previous approaches that were characterised by more linear models of study^[2]. This ambivalence is emblematically manifested in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, where the three great monotheistic religions – Judaism, Islam and Christianity – coexist in the same geographical and symbolic space, often contending not only for territory, but also for narratives, memories and eschatological promises.

The Israeli-Palestinian conflict, whose origins are complex and layered, developed historically from political, territorial and colonial factors. However, the religious dimension has taken on an increasingly important role over time, contributing to the creation of strongly opposing identities. The city of Jerusalem, for example, is a sacred place for Jews, Muslims and Christians, but it is also the epicentre of tensions and claims. In this context, religion has often been used as a means of legitimising violence or as an ideological barrier that makes compromise more difficult.

Yet, according to a different interpretation, it would be possible to use religion not as an instrument of war but as an instrument of peace. Religion is in fact endowed with symbolic, moral and community resources that are useful for the non-violent transformation of conflict. Spiritual traditions, if interpreted in a dialogical and inclusive way, can stimulate practices of listening, empathy, forgiveness and restorative justice.

This concept gave rise to and developed the «constructive conflict approach»^[3], according to which the religious sphere becomes a starting point and model for the study of conflict management and the theorisation of tools for religious peacebuilding^[4] (Tarabiono, Barbetta, Uxhi 2025).

The aim of this article is to critically explore this possibility by analysing the role of religion and territory in the creation of conflict and arguing how these can instead be instruments of peace. What are the conditions for religion to be a genuine instrument of peace?^[5] What concrete experiences exist in the Israeli-Palestinian context? And what are the limitations and pitfalls of a religious approach to peacebuilding? Finally, we will take a look at the current peace agreement signed in Sharm el Sheikh by the leaders of the United States, Turkey, Qatar and Egypt.

After outlining a theoretical framework on the relationship between religion and peace, we will examine the role of religious identities in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with a focus on the sacralisation of space and the politicisation of belonging. Next, we will analyse some significant experiences of interreligious dialogue and cooperation between religious leaders and local communities. We will then reflect on the main criticisms of this approach, including the risk of instrumentalisation and fragmentation. Finally, we will offer some concluding considerations aimed at rethinking the role of religions in building a just, sustainable and shared peace, verifying whether the current agreement signed to end the Israeli invasion of Palestine can be considered, from the points of view analysed, to be truly effective.

Interest in this topic is not only academic. In a world marked by growing polarisation, recognising and valuing the peacemaking potential of religions is a fundamental theoretical and practical challenge. Peace, in contexts marked by decades of violence, cannot be built solely through political agreements and diplomatic mediation: it requires profound cultural, symbolic and ethical work. And in this area, religions can – if they so wish – play a decisive role.

2. Religion and peacebuilding: a theoretical framework

Religion is neither peaceful nor violent in itself. It represents a language of meaning, capable of orienting human action either towards the justification of conflict or towards reconciliation. In the context of conflict, religion was originally defined as an «integrated presence»^[6]; an element integrated and incorporated with the typical constituents of conflict, from which it is difficult to distinguish it as a third, independent genus, but which instead stands in a relationship of correlational interdependence^[7] with other factors. Subsequently, religion was considered an «objectified variable»^[8], i.e. an unobservable variable that cannot be directly measured but which influences various processes under study, in particular both the origin of the conflict and its management and resolution.

As Scott Appleby points out in The Ambivalence of the Sacred^[9], religious traditions can be manipulated to legitimise hatred, but they can also offer powerful resources for forgiveness, justice and conflict transformation. The same dynamic can be seen in the political sphere: in an era marked by the return of identity-based nationalism, religion often takes on the role of ideological glue for territorial claims or ethnic supremacism. Yet, at the same time, we are witnessing the emergence of a new interreligious protagonism, capable of mobilising spirituality and diplomacy in the service of peace.

Today, perhaps more than ever, religion manifests this dual nature. The war in Ukraine, sectarian conflicts in the Middle East, and the rise of nationalist ideologies in Asia and Europe all seem to be examples of 'religiously expressed' conflicts. However, at the same time, a new season of interreligious solidarity is emerging, as evidenced by the Document on Human Fraternity signed in 2019 in Abu Dhabi by Pope Francis and the Grand Imam of al-Azhar, Ahmed al-Tayyeb.^[10] This document, which calls on all religions to promote global peace, represents a symbolic and diplomatic turning point in the reflection on the role of religion in the contemporary world.

The link between religion and politics today must therefore be rethought in the direction of ever greater protection of human rights. Religions are not only spiritual actors, but also public actors. They influence opinions, mobilise consciences, build social bonds and can operate as 'soft power' in international contexts. For this very reason, they can serve as a tool for the protection of the fundamental human rights that many religions refer to. In this perspective, many scholars today speak of religious peacebuilding, i.e. a set of practices that, starting from religious traditions, aim to prevent the escalation of violence, rebuild trust between parties and offer symbolic and moral frameworks for reconciliation.

John Paul Lederach^[11] is one of the leading theorists of this approach and has developed a model of peacebuilding based on relational conflict transformation, in which the cultural and spiritual resources of local communities play a central role. Marc Gopin^[12], a Jewish scholar and activist, has also highlighted how religious traditions contain practices of forgiveness, compassion and moral responsibility that can fuel a diplomacy of the heart, capable of penetrating where institutional diplomacy stops. The essential element for the pursuit of peace is knowledge and understanding of religious values, traditions and practices in conflict contexts.

At the same time, the involvement of religions in peace is not without ambiguity. The risk of political exploitation, the sacralisation of identities and the rhetoric of absolute truth is always present. For this reason, some scholars warn against a naive or apologetic interpretation of religion as an intrinsically positive force^[13]. According to these critical approaches, the effectiveness of religion in peacebuilding depends above all on how it is interpreted, taught and experienced within communities.

One cannot ignore the fact that, in many contexts, religion does not operate in a neutral space but is an integral part of historical, colonial and structurally unequal dynamics, and that it is often the human factor that prevails over the religious one^[14]. For this reason, religious peacebuilding must necessarily address the issue of justice: peace cannot be built without addressing the root causes of violence, including economic inequalities, ethnic discrimination and the denial of fundamental rights. In this sense, the contribution of religions can only become crucial if it is accompanied by an ethical and political commitment to dignity and equity.

In the case of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, religion can be both an obstacle and a resource. But this is precisely why it is necessary to carefully analyse the initiatives, practices and conditions that allow faith to become a concrete instrument of peace.

3. Religion, territory and human-rights in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict

The Israeli-Palestinian conflict is often described as a political and territorial dispute, but it cannot be fully understood without taking into account its profound religious dimension, which acts as a strategic variable in defining belonging, legitimacy and horizons of meaning. The three great monotheistic religions – Judaism, Islam and Christianity – consider the Holy Land, and Jerusalem in particular, to be a sacred space, laden with theological, historical and symbolic meanings. This overlap of sacredness fuels a symbolic competition for control of the territory, transforming the geographical space into a theological-political space.

For Judaism, Jerusalem represents the spiritual heart of the Jewish people, the site of the destroyed Temple and a symbol of the covenant between God and Israel. After centuries of diaspora, Zionism – in its various secular and religious forms – has inextricably linked Jewish identity to the return to the Promised Land. In this context, the religious element has taken on an identity-forming and legitimising function: the State of Israel is often perceived by a significant part of the Jewish population as the fulfilment of a biblical promise. In this sense, the sacralisation of space translates into a form of religious territoriality that makes the renunciation of possession of the land an ontological threat and not just a political one.

For Islam, Palestine is a blessed land (ard muqaddasah), and Jerusalem (al-Quds) is the third holiest site after Mecca and Medina. According to Islamic tradition, the Prophet Muhammad ascended to heaven from the Temple Mount (Haram al-Sharif), now home to the al-Aqsa Mosque and the Dome of the Rock. The defence of this place is therefore perceived by Palestinian Muslims not only as political resistance, but also as a religious duty. In this sense, religion merges with national identity and with the historical memory of the colonialism of the Nakba of 1948^[15] and the Israeli occupation, generating an eschatological narrative of suffering and liberation.

Christianity is also deeply rooted in the region, although today the Christian presence is numerically a minority. Christian holy sites (the Holy Sepulchre, Bethlehem, Nazareth) are pilgrimage destinations and universal symbols of the Christian faith. Some local churches have taken an active role in promoting dialogue and reconciliation, while others have remained more detached, concerned for the survival of their communities in a context of growing religious radicalisation and political instability.

This coexistence of sacred narratives, rather than translating into peaceful religious pluralism, has fuelled a logic of exclusivity and opposition. The territory has been 'theologised', that is, invested with absolute religious meanings that hinder any form of sharing. As Di Ceglie notes^[16], an incompatibility problem arises between religions when each claims exclusivity of truth and the right to symbolic possession of sacred space, generating a structural tension that makes compromise almost impossible. In this logic, any alternative presence is perceived as illegitimate or sacrilegious, accentuating identity polarisation.

Added to this dynamic is the politicisation of religion, i.e. the use of religious beliefs to justify political, military or ideological agendas. In Israel, religious parties such as Shas, United Torah Judaism or radical religious Zionism play a significant role in the government and in the policies of colonisation of the occupied territories. On the other hand, groups such as Hamas base their political legitimacy on religious discourse, presenting themselves as defenders of Islam against Zionist occupation. The language of martyrdom, sacrifice and jihad has been repeatedly used to reinforce the religious identification of the conflict. In this context, religious rhetoric operates as an internal communication tool within organisations which, as Isaacs^[17] observes, may emerge not necessarily as a cause of conflict, but as a functional response to internal identity and logistical crises.

This fusion of religion, identity and politics generates a 'zero-sum' conflict, in which recognition of the other is perceived as an existential threat. In this context, religion becomes an identity marker, rigidifying affiliations and delegitimising any form of compromise. Religion today operates as an objectified variable, no longer merely integrated with other factors of conflict, but capable of acting independently in the genesis, management and possible transformation of conflict.

For these reasons, Israeli leader Netanyahu justified the invasion of Palestine by quoting verses from the Old Testament^[18].

However, precisely because religion has contributed to the construction of conflicting identities, it can also be involved in their transformation. If reinterpreted in a dialogical and pluralistic key, religion can help to recognise the humanity of the other, to desacralise the territory and to build a shared memory. This process requires profound hermeneutical work, aimed at bridging «the hermeneutical gap»^[19] between what is said and what is meant in religious texts, and overcoming the confirmatory biases that rigidify identity readings.

The following sections will analyse some experiences of religious diplomacy, religious literacy and interreligious cooperation that move in this direction, showing how religious leaders, activists and faith communities are trying – with difficulty, but also with hope – to transform religion from a factor of division into an instrument of peace.

4. Religious peace initiatives between Israel and Palestine

Although religion is often a divisive factor in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, it can also be used in a transformative way. Over time, spiritual leaders, local communities and interfaith networks have initiated a variety of paths of dialogue, reconciliation and peace-building based on reciprocity. Some of these experiences stand out for their symbolic power and the educational and political value they express.

One of the best known is the Religious Peace Initiative^[20], founded with the aim of creating a neutral space where rabbis, imams and Christian representatives could meet periodically to discuss religious issues related to the conflict and promote a common language of peace. Although the results have been more symbolic than political, the initiative has had the merit of breaking the taboo of meeting and strengthening a network of personal relationships between religious authorities.

A notable example is the Jerusalem Peacemakers, an informal network of Jewish, Christian and Muslim religious leaders, mystics and activists that promotes public meetings, interfaith prayers and shared spiritual journeys. Founded by Rabbi David Zeller and Sheikh Abdul Aziz Bukhari, the initiative aims to restore the contemplative and non-violent dimension of faith, distancing itself from its politicisation. Through shared rituals and deep listening practices, the group has cultivated a language of the sacred based not on symbolic competition but on spiritual cohabitation.

On the educational front, Kids4Peace is an interfaith organisation that involves Israeli and Palestinian children and adolescents from different traditions to foster mutual understanding, dismantle stereotypes and promote a culture of peace. Its educational work emphasises empathy and the value of diversity as a resource, showing how a religion transmitted as a language of compassion and openness can become an effective tool for reconciliation.

Various monastic communities and some local churches have also initiated spiritual mediation programmes. The Franciscan Custody of the Holy Land, for example, has on several occasions brought religious representatives together around a table during the most acute phases of the crisis, working to preserve channels of dialogue when tensions were at their highest. On an academic level, centres such as the Rossing Centre for Education and Dialogue offer training and research programmes on the relationship between religions and conflicts, helping to train a new generation of interfaith workers.

Despite their diversity, these initiatives share some fundamental traits: (i) the belief that religion can become a resource for transforming conflict; (ii) the importance of personal encounter and spiritual language as an antidote to the rhetoric of hatred; (iii) the centrality of education as a privileged space for triggering cultural change.

In the context of peacebuilding, as clearly emerges from the examples just shown, the use of religion as an instrument of peace is often the preserve of private actors alone, clearly limiting its positive outcomes and generating factors of exclusion that risk having the paradoxical effect of exacerbating conflicts. Instead, as argued by Appleby^[21], it would be necessary to involve the public sphere in peacebuilding activities in order to reinforce the social perception of cooperative intent.

Based on these reflections, the concept of «religious diplomacy»^[22]  has emerged, theorised as a space for intergovernmental and inter-institutional religious collaboration built with the aim of achieving common goals of peaceful coexistence^[23].

However, as we will see in the following section, such initiatives face numerous limitations, which reduce their effectiveness and ability to influence the structural dynamics of conflict.

5. Critical issues and limitations of the interreligious approach to peace

While interreligious dialogue offers an ethically and symbolically promising horizon, it is equally necessary to recognise its fragility and contradictions. A first issue is the dispersion and marginality of many initiatives: they often remain confined to small groups of motivated activists, struggling to influence public opinion at large or to reach religious and political decision-makers. The danger is that, although commendable, such experiences remain confined to intellectual or spiritual niches, without producing structural effects.

A second limitation concerns representativeness. The protagonists of dialogue are not always recognised as authoritative by their respective communities; sometimes they are peripheral or isolated figures, while the official authorities, more closely linked to state structures or national interests, remain distant or even distrustful. The result is a difficulty in translating interreligious dialogue into concrete political change.

There is also the risk of political exploitation of religious discourse. Some actors, while formally participating in peace meetings, use these spaces to legitimise their international image, without any real commitment to change. Furthermore, in asymmetrical contexts such as the Israeli-Palestinian one, dialogue can become a form of normalisation of the conflict, which risks obscuring its structural inequalities. Talking about peace without addressing issues of justice, occupation, the right of return and discrimination can produce an abstract and depoliticised pacifism.

A further difficulty lies in the universalistic rhetoric of interreligious dialogue, which sometimes overlooks the historical, cultural and political specificities of the conflict. The language of shared humanity or universal brotherhood, if not contextualised, can appear naive or evasive, and prove ineffective in mobilising local communities. What is needed, therefore, is a contextual theology of peace, capable of integrating the spiritual dimension with the demands of justice and recognition.

In this context, the problem of so-called «religious illiteracy»^[24]– that is, the faithful's lack of knowledge and understanding of the sacred scriptures – is an accelerator of results, or rather, an element that makes common sentiment highly permeable to religious rhetoric. Precisely because of the importance of religious values and traditions in conflict management and the pursuit of peace, Gopin criticises Western diplomats for often leaving them out of the discussion. Elements such as the sanctity of life and non-violence must maintain a firm role in diplomatic communication and must be the starting point for any discourse and any peace policy.

The progressive secularisation of political spaces raises questions about the public role of religion. Institutional actors often hesitate to recognise the full legitimacy of religious interventions in peace processes. At the same time, part of public opinion—especially in secular and progressive circles—views initiatives promoted by religious institutions with suspicion, perceiving them as conservative or outdated.

These critical issues do not negate the value of interfaith dialogue, but they do call for a rethinking of its tools, languages and strategies. A more structured approach is needed, one that intertwines interfaith work with public policy, official diplomacy and the fight for human rights. Only in this way can religion move from being a factor of conflict to an effective resource for peace.

6. Brief reflections on the peace agreement in Palestine

In the context of this reflection, the agreement recently made public, articulated in six Implementation Steps for a comprehensive conclusion to the war in Gaza, deserves attention: announcement of the cessation of hostilities; immediate suspension of operations upon approval by the Israeli government; full entry of humanitarian aid; withdrawal of the IDF to agreed lines with a commitment not to re-enter the evacuated areas if the agreement is implemented; within 72 hours of withdrawal, release of all Israeli hostages (living and deceased) accompanied by an information exchange mechanism through mediators and the ICRC and a no-ceremonies exchange of hostages and prisoners; finally, establishment of a task force (USA, Qatar, Egypt, Turkey and others) for follow-up.^[25] These steps—already initiated with the approval of the first phase by the Israeli government—would seem to intertwine legal, humanitarian and diplomatic dimensions and could offer a space in which religious peacebuilding and religious diplomacy contribute to the social verification of commitments: maintenance of humanitarian corridors, operational support to the ICRC, accompaniment of communities in the memorialisation of remains and mutual recognition. The translation of a negotiated text into practices of coexistence would, however, depend on the quality of the guarantees (third-party monitoring, transparency of exchanges, protection of the vulnerable) and the inclusion of credible civil and religious actors alongside state diplomacy.

In this context, the strictly procedural and secular grammar of the agreement, devoid of references to the religious dimension, is striking. This choice could be ambivalent: on the one hand, neutrality would seem to favour a minimum consensus among fragmented actors, reducing the risks of instrumentalisation and keeping the negotiation on verifiable ground (timelines, maps, mechanisms); on the other, it risks depriving the process of the symbolic and relational resources necessary to transform a procedural truce into social coexistence (networks of leaders, shared mourning practices, codes for places of worship, literacy in anti-hate language). Without including religion in the text as a source of political legitimacy, one could envisage—within the task force—a stable window for consultation with civil society and interreligious actors, tasked with monitoring incitement, protecting sacred sites, supporting humanitarian corridors, and translating technical requirements into practices of reconciliation (including the ritual and psychosocial management of the return of remains). Without such an addition, the agreement could be effective on a logistical level but fragile on a cultural one; conversely, multi-level integration would be able to facilitate the transition from truce to just peace, restoring centrality to the dignity of the people involved.

7. Conclusion

In light of the considerations made on the recent agreement, this contribution will now focus on how—despite the absence of religious references in the text—the symbolic and community resources of faiths could accompany its implementation without turning into confessional legitimisation of the negotiation. In this sense, the challenge would seem to be to combine procedural neutrality with the social infrastructures of reconciliation.

The path traced in this article has highlighted the profound ambivalence of the religious phenomenon in contexts of conflict, and in particular in the complex and stratified reality of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. We have seen how religion can act as a factor of identity, contributing to polarisation and the legitimisation of violence, but also as a symbolic and communal space capable of nurturing paths of reconciliation, justice and cohabitation.

Initiatives for interreligious dialogue, despite countless difficulties and structural limitations, show that another approach is possible: an approach in which faith is not used as a tool of domination or exclusion,^[26] but as a language of closeness, responsibility and listening.

In this sense, the state plays a fundamental role in that it has the responsibility to provide citizens with the tools to understand and critically approach religion in such a way as to counter attempts at political sophistication and allow for peaceful coexistence^[27] (Weingardt, 2008). Religion, understood as an experience of limitation and transcendence, can offer an ethical corrective to the logic of power and the cynicism of geopolitics. It can help to build bonds where politics fails and to humanise enemies where the rhetoric of hatred prevails. In this sense, a number of models of interreligious education have been developed that are capable of transforming conflicts through an understanding of the function of religious and cultural identities. Peacemakers themselves must be trained in such a way that they are able and know how to handle all the tools of peace that religions offer and the methodologies of conflict management^[28].

However, for this to happen, a profound change is needed in the way religious communities conceive of themselves and their public role. We need to move beyond the view of religion as the bearer of absolute, non-negotiable truths and embrace a 'theology of listening', capable of recognising the dignity of others even in their differences. It is necessary to promote structured spiritual diplomacy, which supports and complements political diplomacy in negotiations and peace processes.

In line with the secular grammar of the agreement, religious involvement would only be appropriate in structured and non-proprietary forms: a stable consultative platform (civil society and interfaith actors) that could support, without merging with it, the task force provided for in the agreement. This platform should operate according to criteria of representativeness, transparency, accountability and absence of incitement, contributing—in a technical and non-ritualistic way to political legitimisation—(i) to the monitoring of hate speech and violence against places of worship, (ii) to the psychosocial support of families and communities during the phases of restitution of remains and reunification, (iii) community mediation in support of humanitarian corridors, and (iv) shared memory processes aimed at reducing the 'antagonistic sacralisation' of space.

In this sense, the contribution of religions cannot be episodic or symbolic, but must be an integral part of a broader project of justice and coexistence. As stated in the Document on Human Fraternity, the future of peace also depends on the ability of faiths to go beyond their confessional boundaries and build bridges rather than walls. In this perspective, the authority, trust, professionalism and closeness of religious leaders to their communities determine the possibility of intervening effectively in conflicts through practices of dialogue and religious mediation^[29].

To avoid purely symbolic outcomes, the religious contribution could be anchored to verifiable guarantees and minimum indicators of effectiveness (e.g., documented reduction in incidents of incitement, compliance with protocols on sensitive sites, periodically measured levels of inter-community trust, continuity of humanitarian corridors). Symmetrically, mechanisms for independent evaluation and removal of actors who do not comply with ethical standards should be provided for. Such a design would seem compatible with the neutrality of the agreement and, at the same time, suitable for bridging the gap between procedural truce and social coexistence.

The Israeli-Palestinian conflict raises questions that can no longer be avoided: it is not enough to oscillate between secularism and fundamentalism, between neutrality and sacralisation. Instead, it is necessary to outline a third way, in which religion becomes a space for shared memory, mutual hospitality and a common commitment to the dignity of every person. In a period marked by global crises, political instability and social fragmentation, this perspective appears not only desirable but essential.