The struggle for freedom is longer and harder than we imagine

By Richard Sewell

2 August 2024

People must not avert their eyes from the conflict in the Holy Land, writes Richard Sewell in a personal reflection from Jerusalem

In 1955, the Anglican priest and monk (and later bishop) Trevor Huddleston was recalled to England by his Order, having served for 15 years as a priest in apartheid-era South Africa. He was a much loved priest, who had served mostly in a township parish.

His experience at the grassroots, community level had caused him to become increasingly critical of the minority Afrikaans Government and its evil apartheid policies. He left reluctantly, having felt deeply committed to the plight of black South Africa; his anti-apartheid activism had connected him for ever with their just cause and struggle for freedom.

On his return, he published a book that is still recognised as of historical significance. The title resonated with me as I reflected on the course of events since I arrived in Jerusalem almost six years ago. The book is called Naught For Your Comfort. The title is a quote from a G. K. Chesterton poem and the stanza from which it comes is:


I tell you naught for your comfort,

Yea, naught for your desire,
Save that the sky grows darker yet,
And the sea rises higher.

Huddleston left South Africa aware that the struggle for freedom had only just begun. “The sin of racial pride, the evil of the doctrine of apartheid must be condemned by the Church and the consequences of apartheid must be clearly and unmistakenly proclaimed. This is prophecy: it is also politics,” he wrote.

It is sobering to think that, when Huddleston left South Africa, condemning the sins of apartheid, it was another 40 years before the apartheid infrastructure fell and an election was held in which every single South African — black, of colour, and white — exercised their right to vote. Huddleston was right about South Africa in 1955: it was going to be a long struggle for freedom — the sky grows darker yet — but freedom did come, in time.

Israeli occupation and blockade of Gaza are intolerable injustices

I write this now not simply to make the case that apartheid South Africa and the State of Israel are the same thing: that is an argument for another time. Rather, I seek to make the same point as Huddleston: the struggle for freedom is almost always longer and harder than we imagine.

Those who expect a quick resolution to an intractable problem such as the Israel-Palestine question may become discouraged and give up long before the goal can be achieved. Standing as we do now, nine months into a terrible war in Gaza, and 58 years into Israel’s occupation of the West Bank and Gaza, there is still a very long way to go before all the people of Israel and Palestine will be able to live alongside one another in freedom, equality and security.

In my view, a reflection on the present situation in this ongoing conflict should be founded on some fundamental principles. First, Israel has a right to exist on the basis of UN Resolution 181 dating from 1947. Second, that Palestinians suffered multiple grievous injustices that resulted from the creation of the State of Israel in 1948, which Palestinians know as the Nakba, “the Catastrophe”. This left millions of Palestinians dispossessed of their homes, their land, and their fundamental freedoms.

It must also be understood that the Israeli occupation of the West Bank from 1967, and the blockade of Gaza since 2007, are intolerable injustices that have compounded the previous dispossessions.

It should be clearly stated that Israel has the right to self-defence, and it has the power to achieve it. Surely, it must be also be accepted that Palestinians have the right to self-defence, and have no such means.

It seems necessary to continue to acknowledge that Hamas conducted a terrifying terrorist atrocity against military forces and many civilians in the area bordering Gaza on 7 Oct, and these must be unreservedly condemned.

All of these statements underpin the way in which I approach the present “conflict”— and there are so many more that could be stated, but space does not permit. They form part of the essential idea that the conflict between Israelis and Palestinians did not begin on 7 Oct. It has a long and complicated history that must be understood.

To detach the present bloody conflict from its historical context makes it impossible to engage coherently with present events. The pathway towards any kind of resolution leads far beyond simply an end to the Gaza War. The problems are far wider and deeper than that one devastating killing zone.

I arrived in Jerusalem six years ago to take up the post of Dean of St George’s College. The College is neither a school nor a university, but, rather, the Anglican centre for pilgrimage in the Holy Land. We serve the whole Anglican Communion, and run approximately 22 study pilgrimages each year in normal times. When I accepted the post, I knew that I was coming to serve in a part of the world which was riven with conflict, and I knew that this conflict would inevitably feature in my ministry. I have always seen it as part of the purposes of St George’s in running pilgrimages to present the political realities of Israel-Palestine.

The scars of occupation that Israel’s allies seem more and more to accept

For myself, I believed that I was well-informed of the complex history and realities of the Land, having first travelled here in 1981 to work in a church-run hostel for six months, and having taken a close interest in the region ever since. It has been a shock to realise how little I truly understood until I rooted myself fully in the Land, and shared closely in the experiences of the people.

St George’s College has a long history of seeking to bridge the divide between Israelis and Palestinians, between Jews, Muslims, and Christians. I committed myself fully to that vocation, although I felt my primary loyalty to be with Palestinians. As time has gone on, that lack of impartiality has become increasingly marked. The war in Gaza and its many ramifications strengthened my convictions in the just cause of Palestinian liberation, and the essential goal of statehood for them.

I will not waver in my support of the right of the State of Israel to exist; but the maintenance of Israel’s occupation of the West Bank and East Jerusalem, and the blockade of Gaza, which seems to have become a more or less accepted part of the political terrain by Israel’s allies, are deep and intolerable scars on the Land and all its people, which simply cannot and must not stand.

The way in which this has become an accepted part of the international perspective is well illustrated by the number of Christian pilgrims from all over the world, including the UK, who glibly refer to their “pilgrimage to Israel”, without being in the least bit aware of all the times that they have passed in and out of Palestine — or, if you prefer, the Occupied Palestinian Territories. Their tour guides either obscure these facts, or are happy to go along with their pilgrims’ willing indifference to it.

Far too many Christian pilgrim groups hide behind the figleaf description of “the Holy Land”, to avoid having to engage in complex and possibly uncomfortable realities. Holy Land pilgrimages can all too easily hover a few inches above the brutal facts on the ground, and result in an unholy avoidance of uncomfortable truths.

The catastrophic events of Saturday 7 Oct and the ensuing brutal and merciless devastation of Gaza by Israel have  at least put paid to all that avoidance. No one can honestly believe now that the status quo in Israel-Palestine as it existed on 6 Oct was sustainable or desirable, or that a return to that state is achievable in the future.

Everything has changed, and, to some extent, that is good; but the cost of removing the veil of ignorance is very high, and contains multiple tragedies that are going to take generations to process.

There is no going back: we have to go forward. The deep challenge of these days is to seek to ensure that the steps forward take us towards a future in which everyone who lives in the land between the river and the sea is enabled to live as an equal citizen, and that that future plan does not institutionalise a system of first-class, second-class, and non-citizens.

The present situation in Gaza, the West Bank, and Israel almost defies adequate description. British people — at least, those who have not entirely given up on following international news — have been exposed to this mass destruction more than in any other recent foreign war. There is, none the less, so much more occurring than is being reported.

In the absence of the world’s media in Gaza — because Israel will not permit them to work there — there are multiple realities and stories that will emerge only in time. Hamas and Israel have locked themselves into positions where neither is prepared to retreat, even one inch. Both are seeking the vital sense of decisive victory which will enable them to move into the next phase of the conflict from a position of strength. The civilian population of Gaza is paying the price, and it is catastrophic.

The Anglican Al-Ahli Hospital in Gaza City is one of our diocesan institutions. It gives us a reliable perspective into the conflict from ground level. There are multiple horrific stories (similar to the hundreds that have been seen in news reports) that we have heard directly from our staff there. It was recently evacuated because of a general instruction by the Israeli army to flee to a supposed safe zone (News, 12 July).

After a significant international outcry, Israel assured us that staff and patients would be safe. Thus, several days after a traumatic departure, the hospital reopened. It is still the only functioning hospital in the north of Gaza. It has taken hits during the war, but, unlike other hospitals, it has not been flattened. It is operating way over capacity, with new, seriously injured patients arriving every day.

There are insufficient medical supplies to do the necessary operations that are required. Women giving birth often do not have pain-killing relief. Our staff are exhausted on their feet, and they are going hungry: most are getting no more than one meal a day and, at most, three hot meals a week. Patients are getting less than this, and ill patients will not recover without nutritious food.

Starvation and disease—a deliberate Israeli policy

The statistics alone are terrifying. Israel’s refusal to permit and allow enough food and water into the Gaza Strip is creating a famine, pushing it to the brink of an irreversible disaster of starvation and disease. It is clear that that this has been a direct and conscious policy of the Israeli government: senior politicians and generals declared their intent at the start, and they have pursued those policies with conviction (despite latterly denying that intent), and often declaring that there is no lack of food and no danger of starvation.

I tell you naught for your comfort,
Yea, naught for your desire,
Save that the sky grows darker yet,
And the sea rises higher.

The harsh and brutal reality is that, whenever the war in Gaza ends, it will not in any sense be the end of the conflict. It is possible, to employ a well-known phrase, that it is “the end of the beginning”. But it is hard to imagine how Israelis and Palestinians will be able to live together in future, such is the deepening of division and the intensification of hatred which have developed. We know neither where we are going nor how we will get there.

Of course, the whole region has been significantly destabilised during the past six months, and the danger of the war spreading into Lebanon and involving Iran and their proxies in more significant ways is a very a real prospect. Some argue that it is inevitable.

All of this paints a very bleak picture before even describing the devastating impact that the war is having on the 2.7m Palestinians who live in the Occupied West Bank. Whole neighbourhoods, hospitals and universities are not being flattened, as in Gaza; but there is very significant military activity in the West Bank, too. Israel will say that it is rooting out Hamas terrorist cells (and, inevitably, there is some of that), but it is having an impact on the wider community in devastating and frightening ways.

Freedom of movement is seriously curtailed. Hundreds of thousands of people have lost their jobs, poverty is growing, and hunger is becoming a reality. There are multiple impacts on the day-to-day lives of Palestinians, making life intolerable for many. There are multiple elements of Israel’s occupation which long pre-date 7 Oct, such as home demolitions, forced removal of people from their long-established communities, arrest and detention without charge or trial and the refusal of permits to build new housing — and tight control of the water and electricity supply.

When all of these brutal and unjust practices are considered, it is not hard to understand why many Palestinians, including significant numbers of Christians, have left the land, or are planning to, so that they can seek a better life elsewhere, despite their deep attachment to and love of the land.

Where does all of this put us right now? There is enough violence, hatred and division in Israel and Palestine to last more than a lifetime. It is made all the more painful because of the place that Jerusalem, and all the land, holds for the people of the Abrahamic faiths. Jews, Christians, and Muslims revere the land. They feel spiritually rooted in it because of the events of salvation history for each faith which have taken place there. We call Jerusalem the “City of Peace”, but, in recent times, it has been anything but that — in fact, it rarely if ever has been.

There is enough religious fervour and competition over the ownership of the land to sustain this conflict for generations to come. All can use their holy scriptures to demonstrate definitively that they should take precedence.

But Jerusalem has had to be shared for millennia. Every attempt to claim the city for one faith has failed. No one will surrender the special place that Jerusalem has for them, and none of the competing groups will give up the claim to their homeland.

Instead of using religion to beat each other, people of faith should dig deep to find the best spiritual wisdom that each faith contains to discover how to live together in tolerance and equality. To adapt a phrase from the economic sphere, regarding the land, here there is enough for everyone’s need, but not enough for everyone’s greed.

Christians are now a tiny minority throughout the land, and perhaps they appear marginal or even irrelevant in the context of the whole conflict. But I believe that Christians individually, and the Church corporately, have an important part to play. It is one that the Anglican diocese of Jerusalem is trying to exercise through all of our ministries: our schools, our hospitals, and our care centres.

Living together means serving one another. Ultimately, we will discover a better way when the peoples of the land can say “I belong to Jerusalem” rather than “Jerusalem belongs to me.”

We must not avert our eyes—turning away is not an option

Huddleston gave his readers “naught for your comfort”, and my message is essentially the same. The hopeful outcome for us is somewhere over the horizon. Right now, we must concentrate on the next good thing that we can do, and the next good thing that we can say.

We must oppose and stop this war. The release of hostages held in Gaza, and the release of Palestinians held unjustly in Israel, is a necessary precondition for the establishment of a ceasefire, which is such an urgent need.

The International Court of Justice has ordered Israel to take specific provisional measures to prevent the crime of genocide against the Palestinian people in the Gaza Strip (News, 19 Jan). It is hard to see how their actions since that ruling have complied with that requirement. Despite inevitable war fatigue in Europe and North America, it is still vital that people do not avert their eyes from this conflict. It is hard to watch, it feels intractable, and resolution still feels a long way off; but simply turning away from it is not a viable option.

Of course, it is far, far harder for those actually living through it; but this war, this continuing conflict, has everything to do with the populations of Western countries, for numerous historical and current political reasons. It is certainly going to take years, not months, to make a difference, but the world cannot afford to avoid this situation any more. Huddleston concluded his book by saying that he was unable to predict the future for Black South Africa, but he wrote a simple and powerful affirmation on which the way forward would have to be founded. It holds true for Israel-Palestine, too.

He said that the gospel message relied on “the simple recognition that all people are made in the image and likeness of God; that in consequence each person is of infinite and eternal value; the state exits to protect the person but the state is always of inferior value to the person.” That seems to me to be an important conviction on which to establish a foundation, and from there to build a path forwards. It will take the best of minds and hearts to rescue all the people of Israel and Palestine from slipping further towards mutual destruction.

Huddleston had to wait 40 years from writing Naught For Your Comfort before he was able to celebrate the end of the apartheid regime; but he did, at least, live to see that joyful day. The prospect for a joyful outcome for Israelis and Palestinians also seems to be decades away, but, as with the South African anti-apartheid movement, it will require massive international effort and mobilisation to bring an end to the conflict there.

To give up on the struggle and to step back again (as has occurred since the failure of the Oslo Process in 2000) would be disastrous for all the communities. Indeed, it would cause only more trouble for the international community, and would lead to a further downward spiral in the Middle East. It is in everyone’s best interests to continue grappling with the intractable issues and actively seek peaceful pathways towards a just solution.

The Very Revd Canon Richard Sewell is the Dean of St George’s College, Jerusalem.

His article first appeared in The Church Times of 2 August 2024

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