Building bridges doesn’t require agreement

This Sunday, The Narrow Bridge, a documentary about bereaved Israelis and Palestinians who have transformed their grief into a commitment to peacebuilding, will screen at the Victorian Interfaith Festival in Melbourne.

The screening will be followed by a workshop exploring how we can build understanding across religious, cultural and political divides – something that feels increasingly urgent in our polarised world.

Meanwhile, events unfolding in Israel are raising a remarkably similar question, with profound consequences for the country’s future.

Following Israel’s recent election, Gadi Eisenkot has been tasked with forming a government. His Jewish-led political bloc holds 48 seats, while Arab-led parties hold a record 19.

Together, these parties hold enough seats for a parliamentary majority, although forming a governing coalition would require overcoming significant political differences Arab parties have also indicated a willingness to support a change of government from outside the coalition.

But formidable obstacles stand in the way of cooperation. Deep mistrust, ideological differences and longstanding political taboos are rooted in decades of conflict, competing national narratives and profound pain – intensified by the trauma of October 7 and the devastating war that followed.

As a psychologist who works with trauma, I know that fear can narrow our capacity to see the humanity of others. When people feel profoundly threatened, they often retreat into their own communities, become more defensive of their beliefs and find it harder to recognise the suffering or needs of those they see as adversaries. These responses are understandable, but they can also perpetuate the very divisions that make building a shared society so difficult.

Professor Youssef Masharawi, an Arab Israeli academic at Tel Aviv University, recently posed a question many are grappling with: how can Arab citizens be welcomed as voters whose support is needed to bring about political change, while their elected representatives are considered unacceptable partners in government?

There are genuine and profound disagreements between the parties over national identity, security, the war and the future of the Israeli–Palestinian conflict. These cannot simply be wished away. Recognising the equal political legitimacy of Arab citizens does not mean endorsing any particular coalition arrangement.

But there is also an important difference between rejecting a party’s policies and rejecting political partnership because its representatives are Arab.

This raises a larger question: must agreement come before cooperation? Or can cooperation itself become a way of building trust?

Steven Klein, who teaches conflict resolution and mediation at Tel Aviv University, suggests a practical way through the impasse. Rather than demanding agreement on fundamental ideological questions before cooperation can begin, Jewish and Arab parties could start by working together on shared priorities – establishing a state commission of inquiry into October 7, addressing crime and inequality in Arab communities, or strengthening democratic institutions.

The four bereaved Israelis and Palestinians at the heart of The Narrow Bridge offer a powerful illustration of what becomes possible when people choose to work together despite their profound differences.

Their lives have been shattered by the conflict. They have not abandoned their identities, their grief or their deeply held convictions. Nor have they necessarily come to agree about history or politics.

What they have done is find the courage to listen to the pain of the other, recognise their shared humanity and work together despite profound differences.

Of course, a community workshop in Melbourne is not the same as negotiating a government in Israel. Political leaders must grapple with questions of security, policy and responsibility that cannot be resolved through empathy or goodwill alone.

But the underlying human challenge is familiar: fear and mistrust can prevent people from taking the very steps that might begin to overcome them.

The significance of this moment has not been lost on Jewish communities beyond Israel. The London Initiative, a network of Israeli and diaspora Jewish leaders, has called for a broad change coalition that includes willing Arab parties and reflects the values of Israel’s Declaration of Independence.

That Declaration promises equality of social and political rights to all its inhabitants, irrespective of religion, race or sex.

The question facing Israel is therefore larger than who will become its next prime minister. It is also about the kind of society Israelis want to build, and whether Jewish and Arab citizens can become genuine partners in shaping its future.

Perhaps we don’t need to wait for trust before we begin building bridges. Sometimes it is through working together that trust begins to grow.

Esther Takac is a filmmaker, author and psychologist, director/producer of The Narrow Bridge and founder of the Bridge Builders Social Cohesion Program, which uses film and constructive conversations to foster understanding across religious, cultural and political divides.

This Sunday, The Narrow Bridge, a documentary about bereaved Israelis and Palestinians who have transformed their grief into a commitment to peacebuilding, will screen at the Victorian Interfaith Festival in Melbourne.

The screening will be followed by a workshop exploring how we can build understanding across religious, cultural and political divides — something that feels increasingly urgent in our polarised world.

Meanwhile, events unfolding in Israel are raising a remarkably similar question, with profound consequences for the country’s future.

Following Israel’s recent election, Gadi Eisenkot has been tasked with forming a government. His Jewish-led political bloc holds 48 seats, while Arab-led parties hold a record 19. Together, they have enough seats for a parliamentary majority, but profound differences stand in the way of cooperation. Arab parties have also indicated a willingness to support a change of government from outside the coalition.

The obstacles are not simply political. Deep mistrust, ideological differences and longstanding political taboos are rooted in decades of conflict, competing national narratives and profound pain — intensified by the trauma of October 7 and the devastating war that followed.

As a psychologist who works with trauma, I know that fear can narrow our capacity to see the humanity of others. When people feel profoundly threatened, they often retreat into their own communities, become more defensive of their beliefs and find it harder to recognise the suffering or needs of those they see as adversaries. These responses are understandable, but they can also perpetuate the very divisions that make building a shared society so difficult.

Professor Youssef Masharawi, an Arab Israeli academic at Tel Aviv University, recently posed a question many are grappling with: how can Arab citizens be welcomed as voters whose support is needed to bring about political change, while their elected representatives are considered unacceptable partners in government?

There are genuine and profound disagreements between the parties over national identity, security, the war and the future of the Israeli–Palestinian conflict. These cannot simply be wished away. Recognising the equal political legitimacy of Arab citizens does not mean endorsing any particular coalition arrangement.

But there is also an important difference between rejecting a party’s policies and rejecting political partnership because its representatives are Arab.

This raises a larger question: must agreement come before cooperation? Or can cooperation itself become a way of building trust?

In a recent Haaretz article, Steven Klein, an editor and lecturer in conflict resolution, suggests a practical way through the impasse. Rather than demanding agreement on fundamental ideological questions before cooperation can begin, Jewish and Arab parties could start by working together on shared priorities — establishing a state commission of inquiry into October 7, addressing crime and inequality in Arab communities, or strengthening democratic institutions.

The premise is deceptively simple: trust does not always have to precede cooperation. Sometimes it is through working together that trust begins to develop.

This is something I have witnessed through my work on The Narrow Bridge.

The film follows four bereaved Israelis and Palestinians whose lives have been shattered by the conflict. They have not abandoned their identities, their grief or their deeply held convictions. Nor have they necessarily come to agree about history or politics.

What they have done is find the courage to listen to the pain of the other, recognise their shared humanity and work together despite profound differences.

Of course, a community workshop in Melbourne is not the same as negotiating a government in Israel. Political leaders must grapple with questions of security, policy and responsibility that cannot be resolved through empathy or goodwill alone.

But the underlying human challenge is familiar: fear and mistrust can prevent people from taking the very steps that might begin to overcome them.

The significance of this moment has not been lost on Jewish communities beyond Israel. The London Initiative, a network of Israeli and diaspora Jewish leaders, has called for a broad change coalition that includes willing Arab parties and reflects the values of Israel’s Declaration of Independence.

That Declaration promises equality of social and political rights to all its inhabitants, irrespective of religion, race or sex.

The question facing Israel is therefore larger than who will become its next prime minister. It is also about the kind of society Israelis want to build, and whether Jewish and Arab citizens can become genuine partners in shaping its future.

Perhaps we don’t need to wait for trust before we begin building bridges. Sometimes it is through working together that trust begins to grow.

Esther Takac is a filmmaker, author and psychologist, director/producer of The Narrow Bridge and founder of the Bridge Builders Social Cohesion Program, which uses film and constructive conversations to foster understanding across religious, cultural and political divides.