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?

Judaism and Zionism are often conflated, but they are fundamentally distinct—one is a faith, the other a political ideology. Judaism is a centuries-old spiritual tradition rooted in ethics, law, and community. It teaches values of justice, compassion, and remembrance, and has survived exile, persecution, and diaspora through resilience and cultural depth. Zionism, on the other hand, emerged in the late 19th century as a nationalist movement seeking to establish a Jewish state in Palestine. While some Jews embraced Zionism as a response to European antisemitism, many others—especially religious Jews like those in Neturei Karta—rejected it, arguing that Jewish sovereignty should not be achieved through force, displacement, or colonialism. Today, this distinction is more urgent than ever. Zionism has become synonymous with militarized occupation, apartheid policies, and the ongoing genocide in Gaza, while Judaism continues to be practiced by millions who oppose these actions and stand in solidarity with Palestinians. The Israeli state claims to speak for all Jews, but countless Jewish voices around the world—activists, rabbis, scholars—are rising to say: Judaism is not Zionism. Supporting human rights, opposing ethnic cleansing, and demanding justice for Palestine is not antisemitic—it’s a moral imperative. Zionism has hijacked Jewish identity to justify state violence, but the world is beginning to see through the illusion. As the global tide turns, the difference between Judaism and Zionism is not just theological—it’s historical, political, and deeply personal. And recognizing that difference is essential to building a future rooted in truth, dignity, and liberation for all.

So Netanyahu just announced plans to occupy Gaza.
After months of siege, starvation, and relentless bombardment, Israel’s Prime Minister has made it official: Gaza is to be taken over—militarily, politically, and permanently.

This is not a security plan.
This is a blueprint for colonization.

For decades, Gaza has been treated as an open-air prison.
Two million Palestinians have lived under blockade, denied freedom of movement, access to clean water, electricity, and medical care. Now, after displacing over 80% of the population and destroying entire neighborhoods, Israel wants to install a regime of its choosing—while maintaining full control over Gaza’s borders, airspace, and future.

Netanyahu’s five-point plan includes:

• The defeat and disarmament of Hamas
• The return of Israeli hostages
• The demilitarization of Gaza
• Full Israeli security control
• A new governing authority—neither Hamas nor the Palestinian Authority

Translation: Palestinians will have no say in their own future.
This is not about peace. It’s about power.
It’s about erasing Palestinian sovereignty and silencing resistance.

And the world is responding.
Germany has suspended arms exports to Israel.
Britain, Belgium, Turkey, and the UN Human Rights Chief have condemned the plan.
Even Israeli families of hostages are protesting, calling it a death sentence.

We say: Gaza is not yours to occupy.
Palestinians have the right to live, to resist, to return.
We reject colonial rule in all its forms—military, economic, and political.

We demand:

• An immediate end to the siege and occupation
• Accountability for war crimes and displacement
• Palestinian self-determination, led by Palestinians
• Global solidarity through boycott, divestment, and direct action

This is not the time for silence.
This is the time to organize, amplify, and resist.

Gaza will not be colonized. Palestine will be free.

In moments of crisis, truth becomes a battleground. And nowhere is that more evident than in the discourse surrounding Palestine. For decades, questioning Israel’s policies, its occupation, its military actions, its treatment of Palestinians, has been met with swift and calculated accusations of antisemitism. This tactic isn’t new. It’s a well-worn strategy designed to shut down uncomfortable conversations, deflect accountability, and silence dissent.

The events of October 7th have only intensified this pattern. That day has been transformed into a rhetorical shield, used not to mourn, but to justify. First, blame is placed squarely on Hamas. Then, it expands to encompass Palestinian civilians, as if collective punishment were a legitimate response. And when anyone dares to ask deeper questions, about the siege, the starvation, the mass killings, the response is predictable: “You’re antisemitic.”

The Holocaust is invoked, not to honor its victims, but to manipulate emotion and distract from the atrocities unfolding in Gaza today. It’s a cynical use of history, one that exploits trauma to excuse present-day violence. But this tactic is losing its grip. More people are beginning to understand that speaking truth is not antisemitism. It is a moral obligation. It is the exercise of free speech. And it is essential to any honest pursuit of justice.

As the dust settles around October 7th, the official narrative is beginning to crack. Initial reports claimed thousands of Israelis were killed. That number quickly dropped, from 1,600, to 1,200, and now hovers around 850. What happened to the rest? Why the revision? These questions are not rhetorical; they’re rooted in emerging evidence.

Multiple sources, including Haaretz, ABC News, and The Times of Israel, have reported on the reactivation of the Hannibal Directive, a military protocol that authorizes Israeli forces to use lethal force to prevent the abduction of soldiers, even if it means killing their own. Though officially rescinded in 2016, the directive appears to have been invoked during the chaos of October 7th. Attack drones were deployed on Israeli bases and civilian areas where hostages were present. Survivors and grieving families are now demanding answers, not just about what went wrong, but about who gave the orders.

The implications are staggering. If Israeli forces killed their own citizens, not out of malice, but under a doctrine that prioritizes control over life, then the moral foundation of the state’s response begins to crumble. And yet, the lie persists: “Hamas is to blame. If they had released the hostages, none of this would have happened.”

This narrative is not just dishonest, it’s cruel. It erases the decades of occupation, siege, and apartheid that preceded October 7th. It ignores the fact that Israel imposed a total blockade on Gaza, cutting off food, water, medicine, and electricity long before any hostage negotiations began. It overlooks the relentless bombing of refugee camps, hospitals, and aid convoys, where thousands of civilians have been killed under the guise of targeting militants.

And it assumes the world is too distracted, too uninformed, or too afraid to speak up.

But the world is watching. The truth is no longer buried, it’s livestreamed, documented, and archived in real time. We see the starvation. We see the mass graves. We see children dying from hunger while Prime Minister Netanyahu goes on television and declares, “There is no starvation in Gaza.” He says this while 900,000 children go hungry, while over 100,000 women and children face famine-level malnutrition, and while aid seekers are shot dead by Israeli snipers.

Today, we’re confronting a difficult but urgent truth.

Many Christians continue to support Israel unconditionally refusing to entertain discussion, dismissing alternative viewpoints, and placing Israel above Palestine, even as a genocide unfolds before their very eyes. With images of suffering and destruction livestreamed from Gaza, this silence is not accidental, it’s deliberate, and it’s devastating.

But blind allegiance isn’t faith, it’s indoctrination. And today, we’re going to offer something different: clarity, context, and scriptural truth.

We’re here to challenge the narrative, especially among those who believe that standing with Israel is synonymous with following Christ. If you’re one of those believers, we ask you not to turn away but to listen with humility and courage.

We’ll be turning to biblical scholars and Christian voices of conscience, starting with Vanessa from the Wholehearted Ness Podcast, who breaks down the misinformation surrounding October 7th and offers a bold, faithful interpretation of what Scripture actually teaches about oppression, justice, and accountability.

This isn’t about winning an argument, it’s about waking up. Because the Bible does not call us to defend empire. It calls us to defend the oppressed.

Stay with us. Let the truth speak louder than propaganda. Let Scripture shine where politics have cast shadows.

The genocide in Gaza isn’t just a tragedy—it’s a global business.
Over 60 multinational corporations are profiting from Israel’s war machine.
Weapons companies like Lockheed Martin and Boeing supply the bombs.
Tech giants like Google and Palantir provide surveillance and AI targeting.
Caterpillar and Volvo profit from bulldozers that demolish Palestinian homes.
Booking.com and Airbnb list rentals on stolen land in illegal settlements.
Investors like BlackRock and Vanguard fund and deepen this complicity.
Western governments—especially the U.S., UK, Germany, and France—enable it all.
Arab regimes stay silent, tighten borders, or normalize ties with Israel.
Meanwhile, Palestinians suffer—and the world watches in real-time.