This article has been translated from its original Hebrew.

Now more than ever, we must imagine a different reality—and work to make it real.

Especially now, when violence between Jews and Palestinians has reached unprecedented levels, when collective destruction is spoken of openly, and when peace is dismissed as either naïve or treasonous. We must resolutely reject the death industry that has ruled our lives since October 7, and the corrosion of our humanity—ours and theirs alike.

The only way to truly reject this grim present, and to prevent it from further eroding our conscience, is to build an entirely different reality. A reality in which the daughters and sons of both peoples meet one another as human beings, as members of two nations of equal standing. Jews and Palestinians who meet not by chance, not as strangers, not detached from the flow of their daily lives. A meeting that does not depend on scrutinizing the other’s intentions or granting them forgiveness. This is a kind of encounter we have not yet known—but it is one worth imagining and working toward.

Jerusalem is the place to begin this journey, for here a unique kind of encounter occurs—one that exists nowhere else between the river and the sea. More precisely, it takes place mostly across the western parts of the city, and to some extent along the main streets of the Old City. It is shaped by Jewish dominance and by Palestinians’ dependence on those who hold power and capital in West Jerusalem. This reality was neither chosen nor planned; no one asked either side if they wanted it. When the separation wall was built, Palestinians were forcibly cut off from their natural hinterland in the West Bank. As a result, Jews in West Jerusalem suddenly found more and more Palestinians from the eastern parts of the city sharing “their” space. The encounter may have been imposed on both sides, but both have adapted to it in ways that merit our attention.

Yes, the encounter is often harsh, even violent—especially now, when Israel’s brutal war in Gaza has clouded the humanity of both sides and unleashed disaster on an almost apocalyptic scale. Yet despite this, within their small, shared spaces, Jerusalemites often find ways not to completely tear apart the fragile fabric of common life, while still preserving distinct and even competing collective identities. True, this Jerusalem reality also contains elements that normalize occupation, annexation, and Jewish supremacy—that is what the collective relationship looks like. At the same time, we cannot ignore another layer: the quiet or spoken encounters between individuals in shared spaces—the mall, a taxi, an emergency room, a pharmacy. This too is a form of normalization, but of a very different kind. It offers a glimpse of a possible, normal future in relations between the two peoples. It is a seed from which an alternative reality might grow.

This is the hope expressed in the Ir Amim document. And it is not only a hope—it is a work plan. Now is the time to act on it together, Jews and Palestinians alike. A day will come when despair will give way to the search for another horizon—a human one.

In this alternative reality, everyday encounters between Jews and Palestinians are part of the natural flow of life. They live together and apart in varying degrees—some interactions regular and planned, others spontaneous and unplanned. The borders between the two states and two peoples are open, flexible, and passable. They do not obstruct the constant, two-way movement—yet they also do not erase difference. Not everything must be agreed upon in advance as a precondition for free passage. Jews and Palestinians will continue to argue about the past—loudly and with conviction. They will continue to criticize each other’s ways of life and collective character. Insult, apology, and reconciliation will all be part of daily life. In areas that require cooperation and serve mutual interests—tourism, environmental protection, policing—there will be joint administration.

Jerusalem is not only a religious or historical symbol, nor merely the cornerstone of the national struggle between Jews and Palestinians. It is also an urban reality that shapes how Jerusalemites live their daily lives. Outsiders rarely see this. That is why, in the future, negotiations over the city’s political arrangements must be entrusted to Jerusalemites themselves, who understand and are attuned to this reality. And as every Jerusalemite sees each day, decisions about reshaping Jewish-Palestinian relations cannot concern East Jerusalem alone. West and East Jerusalem depend on each other. Forcing them apart will only deepen suspicion and alienation. Together, they can lead both peoples toward a better reality.