After losing loved ones, an Israeli and a Palestinian work together for Middle East peace

Destroyed property is seen at Kibbutz Netiv HaAsara near the Gaza border, Nov. 17, 2023. Maoz Inon's parents were killed along with others at the kibbutz. Leo Correa/AP

Leo Correa/AP

Inon was in northern Israel that day. In the aftermath, he says it was Abu Sarah who reached out and saved him "from falling down into the trauma, into the pain, drowning in this ocean of sorrow and agony."

"I lost my parents on Oct. 7, but I won a brother," Inon tells NPR. "And for me, it's not a partnership, it's not a friendship, it's a brotherhood."

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Abu Sarah had already emerged from trauma years earlier and dedicated himself to peace. As a 10-year-old boy, he lost his 19-year-old brother Tayseer at the hands of the Israeli military. Tayseer Abu Sarah was arrested during the First Intifada in 1990 and beaten in custody. He died of his injuries a few weeks after he was released.

"For the rest of my youth, the idea of revenge consumed and drove me," Abu Sarah recalled in an essay he wrote in 2016.

Maoz Inon (center), whose parents died in the Hamas-led attack of Oct. 7, 2023, stands alongside Yaakov Godo (left), 74, who lost his son in the attack, at a protest calling on the Israeli prime minister to resign and a vigil demanding government action for return of hostages outside the Israeli parliament in Jerusalem on Nov. 7, 2023. Ahmad Gharabli/AFP via Getty Images

Ahmad Gharabli/AFP via Getty Images

His perspective shifted after he enrolled in a Hebrew-language class so he could qualify for a higher education. There he met Jews who'd emigrated to Israel — and, as he describes it, his walls began to come down. He started a socially conscious travel agency, MEJDI Tours, and has devoted his life to bringing down others' walls ever since.

After Abu Sarah reached out to Inon in 2023, Inon decided to focus less on his own travel business and became a full-time activist to promote peace and coexistence with Palestinians. He and Abu Sarah now go on speaking tours together. They met with Pope Francis in 2024, with Pope Leo this year, and carried the Olympic torch in Italy in January, ahead of this year's Winter Games.

Through it all, they tout their ambitious goal of making Israel-Palestinian peace within the next five years. That's how long it took Egypt and Israel to sign a peace deal after they fought each other in the 1973 war. Inon and Abu Sarah see similarities today.

In their book, they take readers on a journey through Israel and the West Bank, through the past, present and an imagined future. They visit the kibbutz where Inon's parents were killed, and Jaffa, an ancient port that remains a mixed neighborhood of Israelis and Palestinians and is part of Tel Aviv.

Pope Francis greets Maoz Inon and Aziz Abu Sarah in Verona, Italy, in 2024. Vatican Pool/Getty Images

Vatican Pool/Getty Images

The Middle East is a place of dueling narratives, and language can be a minefield.

"We don't really debate language so much," says Abu Sarah, calling it pointless when people are dying. "We don't censor each other."

In fact, their word choices mirror one another's. Inon has made a point of using the same language as Abu Sarah when they speak together. If Abu Sarah says his brother was killed, Inon says his parents were killed. If one uses the word "murdered," the other does too. "We are modeling equality," says Inon.

The two men know that they are up against hardened positions on both sides of the Israeli-Palestinian divide as the region tries to emerge from a devastating war in Gaza that killed more than 72,000 Palestinians.

Abu Sarah believes a small percentage of activists can make a difference. He's seen hundreds of Israelis protecting Palestinians from settler violence in the West Bank during olive harvest season, and from young, right-wing Jews marking Jerusalem Day — a commemoration of the 1967 takeover of East Jerusalem.

"For my family, for my friends, for people in Jerusalem — suddenly they don't just see these young Jewish guys screaming, 'Death to Arabs.' They also see the Jewish guy [who] was saying [to settlers], 'No, you're not going to be able to break through to this shop.'"

Aziz Abu Sarah and Maoz Inon sit together in old Jaffa, a mixed Israeli and Palestinian area of Tel Aviv, Jan. 11. "I lost my parents on Oct. 7, but I won a brother," says Inon of Abu Sarah. "And for me, it's not a partnership, it's not a friendship, it's a brotherhood." Maya Levin for NPR

Maya Levin for NPR

Abu Sarah says he's also noticing younger Palestinians and more women joining peace protests. "That gives me hope," he says, "because that's where we're going to get the future leaders, is those younger people realizing finally that we can't wait until a politician signs the agreement. We're going to make them — and if they don't, we're going to replace them."

He wants to see thousands, not just hundreds, of activists supporting these grassroots efforts.

Inon says it has to happen now — the region can't wait for a new generation or for more people to be killed.

"It's too late for Tayseer — Aziz's brother," he says. "It's too late for my parents. But it's not too late for the other 14 million Israelis and Palestinians that are living in this region. And we are doing everything we can to save as many lives as possible."