Times of war are times of division, especially in an era already marked by polarisation. As people become divided into opposing groups, nationalism and tribalism take over, leaving little room for moderation or differing opinions. In the shadows, inequalities are exacerbated, suffering becomes constant and pervasive, and common ground becomes harder to find, as all parties become locked in cycles of fear, death, and trauma. In times of violence and mourning, it is rare to find two individuals deeply affected by it, yet still prioritising mutual support and dialogue over division. And though their options differ, Khalil Sayegh, a Palestinian, and Elazar Weiss, an Israeli, largely share the same goal: end this violent one-hundred-year conflict.

For this reason, SCREENSHOT sat down with the two founders of the Agora Initiative, a new non-profit which advocates for a peaceful and democratic resolution of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

“Our organisation, Agora, wasn’t created because of 7 October,” Sayegh responded when I asked the two about their initiative’s backstory. “We were prophetic in the sense that we saw that the situation was unstable and that violence was inevitable,” he recounted. “By 2023, before 7 October, it had been the most violent year for Palestinians since the Second Intifada, with over 300 people killed in the West Bank by Israeli forces. We were seeing more armed groups in places like Nablus and Jenin, which I witnessed during my last visit.”

Weiss agreed with Sayegh’s account and reaffirmed the urgency in setting up their joint effort: “We officially registered about two months before 7 October, although we had already begun setting it up. 7 October was a significant shock and a test for our relationship.”

“In the weeks following the events, emotions were very raw on both the Israeli and Palestinian sides. Despite the tension, I found—hopefully Khalil did too—that being in the US during that time was disorienting for me,” Weiss noted. At the time of our conversation, he was located in Jerusalem, a city at the heart of the conflict we were discussing.

Mere hours after Hamas’ 7 October assault and Israel’s retaliatory strikes on the Gaza strip, grief, horror and outrage started to spread on the territory and abroad. International leaders started campaigning for a ceasefire, people fought online and took to the streets to protest the violence, and there was a sharp rise in both antisemitic and Islamophobic incidents worldwide, leaving the people closest to the war vulnerable. It forced Sayegh, a political analyst and human rights scholar, and Weiss, a former Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) soldier and doctoral candidate at Yale Law School, to navigate a difficult web of professional responsibilities and community ties.

Weiss continued: “In [Sayegh], I found someone who could share the frustration and the mourning. Interestingly, 7 October ultimately brought us closer, as we discovered a shared capacity for empathy, compassion, and understanding, even amidst such extreme violence.”

Though their organisation was supposed to launch in December 2023, the two activists are currently restructuring Agora to adjust it to the current situation before its new launch this year. This, of course, raised the question of how their non-profit is trying to help solve the larger Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

“From my perspective, the existing NGOs working on the conflict, at least on the Israeli side, often fall into two categories. Some are very dialogue-oriented, focusing on bringing people together through compassion. Others are more justice and rights-oriented, dedicated to fighting the occupation through various means. Agora represents that balance—our name and logo symbolise a place where mutual meetings and acknowledgement occur, but always with a focus on actionable solutions. We call it solution-based compassion or justice-based meeting and compassion.”

Of course, our conversations quickly shifted to the dire humanitarian situation in Gaza and the losses both of them endured due to the war. As it rages, more than 43,000 Gazans have died and a further 732 in the West Bank. The coastal stripe’s healthcare system is on the brink of collapse and entire neighbourhoods have been destroyed, tearing apart thousands of families. The news is terrifying, just like the accounts of anxiety and fear of those who have relatives still stuck in the territory.

“I’m obviously not in Palestine, so I can’t speak directly for the people there, but I can share what I hear from those I speak to daily. In Gaza, the situation continues to be a complete disaster with three main levels of suffering,” Sayegh responded when I asked him about family and community still caught in the coastal stripe.

“First, there’s the industrial-level killing through bombardments—constant airstrikes that claim countless lives. Second, there’s the killing through starvation and lack of medical supplies. Israel has facilitated the destruction of essential infrastructure, preventing the availability of food and medicine. Third, there’s the literal shrinking of space. Israel has destroyed homes, and people are not allowed to leave or go anywhere. They live in tents, crammed on top of each other, with no room left. In places like Jabalia, Beit Hanoun, and Beit Lahia, people are being forced out.”

 

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Sayegh was born in the Gaza Strip and raised by a Palestinian refugee family. He lived there through the Second Intifada and the 2008 Gaza war. During this latest onslaught of violence, he lost his sister.

“I want to say that over the past year, there were times when I expected [Sayegh] to say, ‘You’re an Israeli. I don’t want anything to do with you.’ [Sayegh] lost two family members—his father and his sister,” Weiss noted in response. “He held a vigil for them at a church in DC, and I went. The fact that our relationship endured is significant. What’s remarkable is [Sayegh]’s willingness to accept me despite his frustration, anger, and grief toward Israel. His ability to separate me as an individual from my government, even knowing I served in the Israeli Army as a combat soldier in the West Bank, is profound.”

During our one-hour conversation, we spoke about their fears around an Israeli annexation of the West Bank, the challenge of overcoming Hamas’ influence in Gaza, and the political sentiments of Israelis and Palestinians. Both activists define themselves as moderates, a viewpoint that is largely absent in Palestinian and Israeli politics that only offer a spectrum of right to hard-right politics.

“The biggest challenge is that there’s no prospect whatsoever for change. That’s the core issue. Think of it like this—comparing it to Syria, which has been on our minds a lot lately. The regime was toppled, there was a plan, and they were moving toward it. The Palestinians don’t have a plan. [Hamas] claims they do, but it’s a sham. People understand that. They’re not stupid,” Sayegh said, contemplating some of the project’s challenges in Gaza.

“It’s also clear that global moral support and solidarity haven’t led to any real change. The feeling of being in Gaza—being killed, displaced from one tent to another, or living under settler terrorism and military apartheid in the West Bank—is devastating. Knowing there’s no plan, no way out, is excruciating, even as a Palestinian in DC,” he continued.

Being an initiative based in DC confronts the two with a range of opportunities and challenges: on one hand, the only Jews and Palestinians in their immediate proximity are the ones stuck in diaspora, who have only inherited the trauma of this conflict but aren’t directly impacted. On the other hand, being Washington DC-based offers protection and proximity to some of Israel’s strongest allies, US lawmakers.

“The US plays a significant role in the conflict, providing funding and support to Israel,” Sayegh noted. “As [Weiss] mentioned earlier, being in the US has allowed us to see ourselves as equals, which is something that’s impossible in Israel and Palestine. Legally, [Weiss]’s life holds more value than mine. He has access to opportunities and resources that are unavailable to me. In Israel and Palestine, there’s no way we could register a non-profit together and work side by side. The disparity in our rights and capabilities is stark, and that’s part of what we’re trying to address.”

Running a nonprofit like this abroad is no easy feat, as with outspoken advocates in other countries, challenges like white saviorism and tokenism must be acknowledged and carefully navigated to ensure the activism is truly effective.

 

 

 

 

“There’s a precise psychological mechanism that fuels the cycle of violence—vengeance, tribalism, victimhood, and anger. It’s a destructive cycle that perpetuates itself,” Weiss noted. “What’s particularly interesting is how this dynamic plays out on US campuses, something [Sayegh] and I discuss often. In Israel and Palestine, where there’s a real war, this response is somewhat understandable. But in the US, both sides import this war mentality and the associated emotions, even though they’re not in existential danger. In the end, it doesn’t help anyone—it just gives them a false sense of doing something meaningful. This happens on both sides and in the US, it’s easier to talk about dual responsibility.”

Towards the end of the interview, our conversation shifted towards Donald Trump’s upcoming new term as president of the US, something the two of them interestingly expressed a lot of cautious optimism over.

“For me, there are both pessimistic and optimistic possibilities regarding a Trump presidency. On the pessimistic—and perhaps more realistic—side, it could mean increased support for Israel’s right-wing government, leading to more violence and deeper occupation. This is the scenario many people fear and anticipate,” Weiss responded. “However, I’d like to offer a more optimistic perspective, even if it’s not the most likely outcome. During his first term, Trump was very focused on being the one to broker ‘the deal’. There’s a chance, albeit slim, that he could pursue a similar goal again, aiming for a resolution or agreement that might lead to some form of progress. While it’s not the most probable outcome, it’s still a possibility worth considering.”

And with that bit of cautious hope, one of the most fascinating conversations I ever had the chance to be a part of came to a close.