The countless atrocities committed by Israel — among them mass killings in the Palestinian Occupied Territories and in Lebanon — often bring to my mind the poignant title of Jonathan Randal’s book, After Such Knowledge, What Forgiveness.
His question resonates all the more powerfully when viewed through the lens of the crimes committed by Zionist forces against Palestine and the Arab world, not merely in recent decades, but over the span of an entire century. If such acts are, by their very nature, unforgivable — and how could they not be? — how, then, can we still speak meaningfully of peace?
Assuming that a genuine possibility for peace ever existed, that fragile hope has steadily been eroded, day after day, year after year, by Israel’s ongoing policies of aggression and systemic injustice. What might have once seemed possible has now been rendered increasingly remote.
And by peace, I do not refer to the formalities of treaties inscribed on paper, but to a deeper peace — one born of sincere conviction, and grounded in mutual respect and goodwill. In this regard, the peace treaties signed between Israel and Egypt and between Israel and Jordan stand more as instruments of political necessity than expressions of reconciliation.
They were concluded to avert worse outcomes, not to mark the dawn of real harmony. Decades later, they remain cold and distant, lacking the warmth of genuine peace, particularly when measured against the backdrop of all that Israel has done, both before and after those agreements were signed.
The Abraham Accords, which led to the “normalisation” of relations between Israel and the United Arab Emirates, Bahrain, Morocco, and Sudan, bypassed the Arab Peace Initiative of 2002, which had proposed full normalisation only after a resolution of the Palestinian issue.
From the Palestinian perspective, the Abraham Accords were seen as a betrayal, legitimising the Israeli occupation and undermining efforts to achieve a two-state solution. For Israel, the Abraham Accords were — unrealistically — viewed as an opportunity to establish relations with Arab countries without ever having to resolve the core issue of Palestine.
Israel’s policy appears to follow a perpetual “flight forward”— an unrelenting drive to eliminate any potential threat, however minor, posed by the Palestinians or by states across the broader Middle East.
Yet it would be utterly naïve to believe that such a militaristic and aggressive approach could ever produce a lasting peace. On the contrary, the consequences are not only inevitable but entirely predictable: this path leads not to security but to continued conflict and instability.
It must also be emphasised that the so-called Palestinian “threats” to Israel pose no serious danger to the very existence of the Israeli state. To claim otherwise is to distort the reality of the imbalance of power.
The hour of judgment is upon Israel
Israel may, for a time, succeed in compelling submission from neighbouring countries. But it is inconceivable that such a state of affairs could endure indefinitely.
History has shown, time and again, that no nation can forever sustain dominance through force alone. Israel would therefore be wise to seriously consider the long-term consequences of its current course, and to pursue a less destructive path — one that serves not only its own interests, but those of the entire region.
Nazi Germany once aspired to subjugate all of Europe in the name of a so-called “Thousand-Year Reich.” Yet it would have been unthinkable for the nations under Nazi occupation to permanently accept the loss of their sovereignty or the extermination of their peoples. After such knowledge, it becomes almost certain that Israel, too, will face a similar reckoning — whether or not it continues its assaults on others. For no regime, however powerful, can escape the judgment of history forever.
Whereas the yellow Star of David evokes painful memories of Nazi antisemitism in Germany, the modern Israeli flag — bearing the same symbol in blue and white — has, for many Arab victims, come to represent something profoundly different. For them, it conjures the memory of countless Israeli war crimes, acts of Zionist terror, ethnic cleansing, mass killings, and other deeply traumatic experiences.
As a result, the Star of David, once regarded primarily as a religious and cultural emblem, has in many Arab eyes become inseparable from the violent actions of the Israeli state. This shift in perception is further reinforced by the flag’s frequent appearance in media footage depicting Israeli military forces engaged in such operations. It is therefore not so surprising that seeing the Star of David — anywhere in the world, even when it is merely a religious symbol — is increasingly being associated with the actions of Israel in the Middle East.
During the Second World War, Jews living under Nazi occupation were often admired for their resourcefulness — forged documents, underground networks, and efforts to help others evade arrest and survive unspeakable atrocities.
In stark contrast, modern Zionist Israel is increasingly remembered not for resistance, but for the deployment of advanced technologies in the service of mass violence: precision-guided weaponry, artificial intelligence used in targeting, and remote-controlled explosions — including those, for instance, that detonated beepers to kill numerous individuals and bystanders in Lebanon.
In such cases, Israel has tragically and consistently shown itself to be a power that is both ruthlessly efficient and, morally speaking, reliably unreliable.
Even though the subject is generally regarded as taboo, one cannot help but notice certain troubling similarities between Nazism and Zionism as practiced by Israel in Palestine and the Arab Middle East.
These parallels are not limited to policies and actions, but are also reflected in the language used. A number of Nazi German expressions find unsettling echoes in Israeli Zionist practices in Palestine.
Terminological parallels between Nazism and Zionism
- Ausradieren (“to erase” or ethnically “cleanse”) — referring to the systematic removal of the Palestinian presence in Palestine.
- Ausrotten (“to exterminate”) — as in calls to destroy the “children of Amalek,” a term some Israeli extremist voices use to describe their wish to exterminate the Palestinians.
- Endlösung (“Final Solution”) — in the Palestinian context, this refers to the systematic expulsion or extermination of the Palestinian people, euphemistically labelled by some in Israel as “transfer.”
- Jüdische Vorherrschaft (“Jewish supremacy”) — akin to the Nazi belief in racial supremacy. Just as the Nazis upheld the superiority of the so-called Aryan race and sought domination over Jews, Slavs, and others labeled “inferior”, Israeli policies toward Palestinians and Arabs often reflect a perception of them as Untermenschen (“subhumans”) or “human animals.”
- In both cases, Vorherrschaft (“supremacy”) implies not mere influence, but absolute control, frequently enforced through violence, imperialism, and, at times, genocidal intent.
- Nicht für Araber (“Not for Arabs”) — echoing the exclusionary Nazi phrase “Nicht für Juden” (“Not for Jews”), in the Palestinian Occupied Territories sometimes expressed under the slogan “Arabs out!” and “death to Arabs!”
- Kristallnacht (“Night of Broken Glass”) — mirrored in the frequent destruction of Palestinian homes, property, and infrastructure by Israeli forces.
- Groß-Israel (“Greater Israel”) — sometimes invoked to describe an Israel stretching “from the Nile to the Euphrates.”
- Heim ins Reich (“Home into the Reich”) — paralleling Israel’s annexation of Arab lands and the settlement there of Jews from around the world through Aliyah. Israel before everything — reminiscent of the Nazi slogan Deutschland über Alles.
- Lebensraum (“living space”) — the Nazi term for territorial expansion. Just as the Nazis aimed to secure land by displacing and exterminating others, Israeli Zionists have pursued territorial gains through settlements in the Occupied Palestinian Territories and beyond.
- Volksgemeinschaft (“people’s community”) — the Nazi ideal of a homogenous national body, excluding Jews and other “outsiders.” Israel, in a similar fashion, regards non-Jews, particularly Palestinians and Arabs, as outsiders in what is historically their own land.
There may be several possible “final solutions” for Israel. One scenario is that Israel, after prolonged periods of war and conflict, will eventually cease to exist. The demise of such a racist and violent state could, for instance, result from a “moral implosion”.
After all, how long can a system of “Jewish supremacy” (“Vorherrschaft”) persist without ultimately collapsing under the weight of ethical bankruptcy and internal strife (such as civil war)?
Another, more constructive path is that Israel could still choose to accept Arab peace proposals previously put forward — proposals it had completely ignored at the time. The latter path would undoubtedly be the wiser course for Israel. However, if it continues to reject this option, its unrelenting violence and aggression — its constant, aggressive flight forward — is likely to ultimately result in Israel’s end.
Nikolaos van Dam is the former Dutch ambassador to Indonesia, Germany, Turkey, Egypt and Iraq, and Special Envoy for Syria. As a junior diplomat, he served in Lebanon, Jordan, the Palestinian Occupied Territories and Libya. He is the author of The Struggle for Power in Syria and Destroying a Nation: The Civil War in Syria and My Diplomatic Journeys in the Arab and Islamic Worlds.
Follow him on X: @nikolaosvandam
Have questions or comments? Email us at: editorial-english@newarab.com
Opinions expressed in this article remain those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of The New Arab, its editorial board or staff.