The Levant: this sliver of earth nestled between the Mediterranean and the desert, has always carried the weight of stories, scars, and sacredness. It’s where empires rose, prophets walked, and languages blossomed and died. It’s a place where the land remembers.
When we talk about indigeneity in the Levant, we must talk in layers, not absolutes.
Yes, Jews are indigenous to this land. Not metaphorically, but literally. Our language was born here. Our ancestors walked here. Our spiritual compass has always pointed here, no matter how far exile flung us. Even in diaspora, we kept the soil of this place in our prayers, in our customs, in our bones. Denying that indigeneity erases thousands of years of identity, memory, and survival.
But we are not alone in that belonging.
Palestinians, too, carry deep roots in this land, culturally, linguistically, and genealogically. Many are descendants of the same ancient peoples, including Judeans and Canaanites who remained and evolved through generations, faiths, and empires. They’ve lived, loved, and suffered here for centuries. To deny their indigeneity is just as dishonest, just as violent.
🕍 The ancient Israelites, our ancestors, were native to the central hill country of what would later be called Judea and Samaria. This isn’t just spiritual symbolism, it’s archaeological and cultural fact.
🌿 The Canaanites, among the earliest inhabitants of the land, are ancestral to modern groups like Palestinians, Samaritans, and even some Jewish families, my family included, with lineages deeply interwoven with the region.
📜 The Samaritans, a small yet ancient people, trace their lineage to the northern tribes of Israel. They continue to practice a distinct form of Israelite religion, centered on Mount Gerizim. Though few in number, their presence predates nearly every major conquest and modern political border. They have preserved their identity, language (a dialect of ancient Hebrew), and Torah tradition for thousands of years in the very heart of this land.
🌀 The Druze, an esoteric ethnoreligious group, also trace their roots to the Levant. Though their theology diverged from Islam in the 11th century, their ethnic and geographic origins are deeply Levantine. Centered primarily in Israel, Lebanon, and Syria, Druze communities have maintained a strong connection to specific mountainous regions for generations. Their identity is shaped not only by spiritual beliefs but also by an indigenous tie to place and local stewardship of land.
Across millennia, the Levant was reshaped again and again, Egyptian, Assyrian, Babylonian, Persian, Greek, Roman, Byzantine, Arab, Crusader, Ottoman, British. But empire is not indigeneity. Conquest does not erase belonging.
What defines indigenous identity is not temporary rule, it’s long-term continuity, cultural survival, and ancestral ties to the land.
🔯 The Jewish people meet all of those markers. Even in exile, we preserved Hebrew, held sacred the direction of Jerusalem, and kept a permanent presence in cities like Hebron, Tzfat, and Tiberias. By every academic standard applied globally, Jews qualify as indigenous to the land of Israel.
At the same time, Palestinian Arabs, especially those whose ties to the land predate the modern Arab conquests and remained unbroken through the Ottoman and British periods, also meet those standards. Many descend from ancient Semitic peoples: Judeans who became Christians or Muslims, regional Canaanites, and other long-rooted communities.
🧭 The Levant is not a blank canvas. It is a tapestry, woven with stories of return, resistance, resilience, and reverence.
So how do we hold these truths together?
It is not easy, especially when the headlines break our hearts and test our ethics.
We cannot ignore today’s brutal realities. The bombings in Gaza. The demolitions in the West Bank. The military occupation. The fear in Israeli towns under rocket fire. These are not “issues.” They are human pain, lived daily. And they violate the values of Torah, human dignity, and moral conscience.
But we also cannot abandon the fight for Jewish self-determination. Our people carry deep trauma. from pogroms, ghettos, expulsions, and genocide. My family alone suffered mass execution and near extinction. A homeland was never a luxury. It was a lifeline. It still is.
Still, self-determination cannot mean domination.
Jewish survival cannot demand Palestinian displacement. Palestinian freedom cannot come through Jewish erasure. We must reject this false dichotomy; this inherited script where one people’s liberation must be another’s loss.
There should not be checkpoints that humiliate.
There should not be airstrikes that level families.
There should not be settlers uprooting ancient olive trees.
There should not be tunnels built with the desperation of the blockaded.
And yet, even now, there is hope.
In the past few months, I’ve shared stories with a Palestinian family in Gaza. We’ve exchanged laughter, tears, and hope. We’ve mourned together, imagined together. This isn’t simple. But this is humanity.
🕊️ Peace does not begin with perfect politics. It begins with truth.
With acknowledging historical pain, without using it to justify present violence.
With grieving, not just our own dead, but the children buried on both sides.
With telling the truth, about the beauty and the brutality, of everyone’s story.
Peace requires a new imagination.
To see Jews, Palestinians, Samaritans, and Druze, not as rivals, but as descendants of this soil.
To understand that indigeneity is not a weapon. It’s a shared inheritance.
To stop asking “Who belongs?” and start asking “How do we belong together?”
This land has always been sacred.
But maybe the most sacred act now… is to make it a home again, for all of us.
Without fear.
Without exile.
Without shame.
It won’t be easy. But truth rarely is.
Wildlydj: The Life of DJ Lieberman 
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