‘Terrorist’ and ‘war criminal’ unite for peace

Rami (left) and Bassam travelled to Dublin as part of an event with Trócaire.

Two grieving fathers. Two shattered worlds. And one astonishing bond forged in the fire of conflict.

Rami Elhanan and Bassam Aramin—men from opposite sides of the Israel-Palestine divide—have stunned audiences in Ireland with their raw, emotional story of loss, friendship, and an unrelenting push for peace. Speaking in Dublin at a Trócaire event, the pair disarmingly introduce themselves with chilling honesty: “a Palestinian terrorist and an Israeli war criminal.”

It’s a label meant to provoke—but behind it lies unbearable tragedy. Both men lost young daughters to the violence that has scarred their homelands for decades. And now, against all odds, they stand together.

Rami, 76, from Jerusalem, is the son of an Auschwitz survivor and a former Israeli soldier who served seven years and fought in three wars. His life was shattered on September 4, 1997, when his 14-year-old daughter Smadar was killed by Palestinian suicide bombers in a crowded Jerusalem shopping street. Five people died that day—three of them young girls.

Bassam's daughter Abir (left) and Rami's daughter Smadar were both killed during the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

Bassam, 57, from Hebron in the West Bank, walked a very different but equally painful path. Arrested at 17 for planning an attack on Israeli troops, he spent seven years in prison. Upon release, he still believed armed struggle was the only answer—until change began to stir.

Then came the moment that would forever link their lives. On January 16, 2007, Bassam’s 10-year-old daughter Abir was fatally struck by a rubber bullet fired by Israeli police in East Jerusalem. Rami rushed to the hospital and stayed by her bedside until she died. “For me, it was like losing my daughter for the second time,” he said.

Their shared grief didn’t divide them—it bound them. What began as a fragile connection turned into brotherhood. “We don’t need words,” Rami said. “I admire this man and look up to him.”

The roots of that bond go back to 2005, when the two met through the Parents Circle – Families Forum, a joint Israeli-Palestinian peace organisation. Rami had joined two years after his daughter’s death, calling it his reason to get out of bed each morning.

Bassam, meanwhile, had begun questioning violence after the 1993 Oslo Accords. “We cannot keep on killing each other forever,” he realised. Yet meeting Israelis—especially former soldiers—was deeply painful. “To meet my occupiers, my killers, my jailers… it was the most difficult moment of my life,” he admitted.

And still, something shifted. Over time, suspicion gave way to respect. Respect turned into something deeper. “Our relationship has become above any conflict,” Bassam said. Rami agreed: “We fell in love—and the national issue faded away.”

But their message is not welcomed by all. In their own communities, they face disbelief, anger—even accusations of madness. Rami spoke of a society shaped by centuries of victimhood, where empathy for the “other side” is often rejected.

Bassam, however, looks to history for hope. If Germany and Israel could rebuild ties after the Holocaust, why not Israelis and Palestinians? “One day we’ll have peace,” he said. “But we don’t know when.”

And the cost? Still unknown. Still rising. Still painfully real. As violence continues to grip the Middle East, these two fathers carry a message many refuse to hear—but one they insist the world cannot afford to ignore.

Men who call themselves 'Palestinian terrorist' and 'Israeli war criminal' in Ireland to share their path to peace