The testimony of American journalist Heidi Levine exposes part of the predicament Israel faces today, as the realities its policies produce become more powerful than the narrative built to justify them. On October 16, masked settlers attacked the Washington Post photographer while she was covering the olive harvest in Abu Falah, near Ramallah. They kicked her and stole her equipment despite her clearly marked press vest, leaving her with fractures and wounds. Palestinians rushed to rescue her, while witnesses reported that Israeli soldiers failed to stop the violence.

 

The incident takes on a deeper significance when considered alongside a religious ruling by Rabbi Dov Lior, a leading religious authority within the settler movement, permitting settlers to take olives from Palestinian groves. His justification was that the land belongs to Jews and that taking its produce fulfills the “commandment to conquer the land.” This reasoning turns the theft of a harvest into a religious virtue and the landowner into a trespasser on someone else’s property. Although other rabbis rejected the ruling, its significance lies in the logic it expresses: that of political currents now sharing power and exercising influence over the fate of Palestinians.

 

Against this backdrop, Levine’s description of her attackers as “human monsters” recalls the phrase “human animals,” used by then Israeli defense minister Yoav Gallant when announcing the siege of Gaza in October 2023. The parallel exposes a mechanism that strips Palestinians of their humanity to facilitate their subjugation, then criminalizes them when they defend their land. Yet in the American journalist’s account, Palestinians appear as her rescuers, dismantling the comforting division between an Israeli perpetually defending himself and a Palestinian who embodies a permanent threat.

 

The significance of the assault therefore extends beyond the crime itself, exposing a system of justification in which religious discourse intersects with military force and political protection. Reducing the incident to the actions of unruly youths obscures the context that produced them. Netanyahu’s office sought to cast doubt on the circumstances of the attack in an English-language statement emphasizing its refusal to allow settlers’ reputations to be tarnished. This suggests an awareness of the damage abroad, for this time the witness comes from American society, long the most important base of support for Israel’s narrative.

 

Levine’s testimony thus intersects with a broader shift within that base of support. This year, a Gallup poll found that 41 percent of Americans sympathized more with Palestinians, compared with 36 percent with Israelis, who had previously held a clear lead, although the new difference remained within the margin of error. The shift is also reflected in Zohran Mamdani’s election as mayor of New York City and Abdul El-Sayed’s victory in Michigan’s Democratic Senate primary. These outcomes reveal a widening political space for advocacy of Palestinian rights, without reducing either electoral success to the candidates’ positions on Palestine alone.

 

This opening extends to Europe, from the Green Party of England and Wales adopting a policy that defines Zionism as racism, to Spain’s measures against the arms trade with Israel and settlement products, and the British government under Andy Burnham moving to tighten measures against settlements. Yet Burnham’s own condemnation of the Greens’ decision reminds us that this shift is unfolding within an ongoing political struggle, rather than a uniform Western realignment in favor of Palestinians. The real question, then, is whether we can translate this exposure of moral failure into political gains that endure after public outrage subsides.

 

Answering that question requires recognizing, first, that Israel and its support networks possess the institutions, resources and experience to regain the initiative. They may narrow the debate once again to settler abuses or Netanyahu’s mistakes, restoring Israel’s image while leaving the structure of occupation beyond scrutiny. Meanwhile, parts of the solidarity movement remain dispersed across separate campaigns. Connecting them through sustained work within universities, trade unions and political parties is therefore essential if testimony and images are to become public knowledge, electoral pressure and accountability, rather than merely occasions for fleeting sympathy.

 

This challenge grows more serious with the opposing tide of the rising far right, Israel’s rapprochement with Spain’s Vox and Austria’s Freedom Party, and its alliance with Argentine President Javier Milei, who launched the “Isaac Accords” with Netanyahu. Such relationships allow Israel to offset declining public support with allies capable of taking power, while potentially costing Palestinians friends already in government. Building on the moment opened by Heidi Levine therefore requires an Arab and Palestinian strategy that connects cultural engagement with political action and sustains alliances through electoral change, so that we do not celebrate the collapse of Israel’s narrative only to leave it the opportunity to rebuild it.