The history of the Palestinian people is deeply rooted in the sacred texts of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. In the Torah and Bible, the land now known as Palestine was home to ancient Semitic peoples—Canaanites, Philistines, and Israelites—whose cultures, languages, and traditions shaped the region long before the rise of modern nation-states. Cities like Jerusalem, Bethlehem, and Hebron are central to biblical narratives and were inhabited by ancestors of today’s Palestinians. Many of these indigenous communities later became Muslim, while others remained Christian or Jewish, forming the diverse and continuous lineage of Palestinian identity. In the holy Quran, the region is referred to as Al-Ard Al-Muqaddasah—the Holy Land—and it affirms that righteousness, not ethnicity or conquest, determines rightful stewardship of the land.

The holy Quran acknowledges the presence of earlier communities, including the Children of Israel, but it does not grant eternal political entitlement to any one group. Instead, it emphasizes justice, humility, and moral responsibility. The sacredness of the land is tied to how it is treated—not who claims it.

It’s important to recognize that modern Israel is not part of this indigenous lineage. It is a state established through colonial intervention, mass displacement, and military occupation. The founders of today’s Israel were largely European settlers, not native to the land, and their arrival marked the beginning of a campaign to erase and replace the region’s original inhabitants. Modern Israel is not a continuation of biblical Israel—it is an occupying power, built on the ruins of Palestinian homes, villages, and lives. The sacred texts do not endorse this occupation; they speak of justice, compassion, and truth. And the truth is clear: Palestine has always existed—not just in scripture, but in history, in language, and in the memory of its people.

This brings us to a critical truth: modern Israel is not part of this indigenous lineage. It is a state established in the 20th century through colonial intervention, mass displacement, and military occupation. The founders of today’s Israel were largely European settlers, many of whom arrived during the British Mandate period with the backing of imperial powers. Their arrival marked the beginning of a campaign to erase and replace the region’s original inhabitants. Modern Israel is not a continuation of biblical Israel—it is an occupying power, built on the ruins of Palestinian homes, villages, and lives.

The myth that modern Israel fulfills biblical prophecy is a political invention, not a theological truth. It has been propagated through decades of media, religious manipulation, and geopolitical strategy. Christian Zionism, in particular, has played a major role in this distortion—convincing millions of believers that supporting Israel is a spiritual obligation, even when that support enables apartheid, ethnic cleansing, and genocide. But scripture, when read with integrity, tells a different story. It speaks of compassion, justice, and the protection of the oppressed. It does not endorse the bombing of hospitals, the starvation of children, or the theft of land.

To those who claim that Palestine never existed, consider this: the word Falisteen appears in ancient texts and oral traditions across the region. In the King James Bible, the term Palestina appears four times—Exodus 15:14, Isaiah 14:29, Isaiah 14:31, and Joel 3:4—referring to the land of the Philistines, a coastal people who lived in what is now southern occupied land and the Gaza Strip. The name Palestine itself was later adopted by the Romans, who renamed the province of Judea to Syria Palaestina in the 2nd century C.E., not as a neutral label, but as a deliberate act to sever Jewish ties to the land. This name endured through centuries of conquest, colonization, and cultural evolution—long before the est

To Benjamin Netanyahu, the term antisemitism has become a political weapon—used not to protect Jewish communities from genuine hate, but to silence criticism of Israel’s policies, especially its military aggression and apartheid system. In recent years, Netanyahu has labeled international prosecutors, student protesters, and even heads of state as “antisemites” simply for condemning Israel’s actions in Gaza or supporting Palestinian statehood. This rhetorical strategy conflates Judaism with Zionism, and Israel with all Jewish people, in order to deflect accountability and delegitimize opposition. But critics, including Israeli historians and global human rights advocates, argue that this overuse dilutes the meaning of antisemitism and undermines real efforts to combat anti-Jewish hate.

So who are the real Semites? Linguistically and historically, Semitic peoples include Arabs, Jews, Assyrians, and others whose languages descend from the ancient Semitic family. Palestinians, as native Arabic speakers and descendants of the region’s indigenous populations, are themselves Semites. The idea that Arabs—especially Palestinians—can be “antisemitic” for resisting occupation is not only illogical, it’s a deliberate distortion. It erases the shared linguistic and cultural heritage of Semitic peoples and reframes resistance to colonialism as racial hatred.

This distortion extends to the myth of Israeli “peace offers.” For decades, Israel has claimed that Palestinians have rejected every opportunity for peace. But what were those offers, really? Proposals that demanded Palestinians accept fragmented enclaves, no control over borders or resources, and the permanent loss of the right of return. Offers that turned Gaza into an open-air prison and left the West Bank carved up by settlements and checkpoints. These were not offers of peace—they were ultimatums for surrender. And when Palestinians refused to accept a future without dignity or sovereignty, they were branded as rejectionists.

In truth, the rejection has come from Israel: a rejection of Palestinian humanity, of international law, and of any vision of peace rooted in justice. Netanyahu’s use of “antisemitism” to shield war crimes, and Israel’s framing of occupation as diplomacy, are part of the same strategy—one that is unraveling as the world begins to see through the lies.

TWIP-250824 Over the past century, Arab regimes have repeatedly failed the Palestinian people—through broken promises, political calculations, and a deepening alignment with Western and Israeli interests. The betrayal began in 1948, when seven Arab states declared war on the newly formed Israeli state but were swiftly defeated. That military failure exposed not only strategic weakness but also a lack of genuine commitment to Palestinian liberation. The 1967 Six-Day War was another turning point: Israel seized the West Bank, Gaza, East Jerusalem, and other territories, and Arab leaders began shifting from confrontation to accommodation. Egypt’s 1978 Camp David Accords marked the first formal peace with Israel, sidelining the Palestinian cause in favor of national interests.

Over time, Arab regimes increasingly prioritized regime survival and economic partnerships over solidarity. The 1982 Israeli invasion of Lebanon, which targeted the PLO, was met with silence from most Arab capitals. By the 1990s and 2000s, normalization efforts accelerated, culminating in the Abraham Accords of 2020, where the UAE, Bahrain, Morocco, and Sudan formalized ties with Israel—despite ongoing occupation and apartheid. These moves were often justified as pragmatic diplomacy, but for Palestinians, they signaled abandonment.

The betrayal deepened after the Arab uprisings of 2011. Authoritarian regimes, fearing domestic unrest, cracked down on pro-Palestine activism and used the Palestinian cause as a rhetorical tool while suppressing real support. Today, many Arab governments—especially Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Jordan, and the Gulf states—maintain security cooperation with Israel, restrict aid to Gaza, and block refugee movement across borders. Even during moments of mass slaughter, such as Israel’s recent war on Gaza, Arab leaders have offered little more than symbolic gestures, while actively participating in the U.S.-Israeli security order.

Palestinians now distinguish between Arab governments and Arab people. While regimes normalize and collaborate, the streets—from Beirut to Rabat—continue to erupt in protest. The betrayal is not just political; it’s moral. And it has left Palestinians increasingly isolated, even as global solidarity grows. The question remains: when will Arab regimes be held accountable—not just by history, but by their own people?