Arnie Weissmann
To say that wars aren't good for the travel industry is stating the obvious. Yet it's also something travel professionals wouldn't talk about outside the industry, at least not in those words. The woes and complaints of travelers whose plans get upended by violent conflicts -- wars, terrorism -- are generally perceived as trivial. Death on one hand, an interrupted vacation on the other.
But it doesn't necessarily follow that travel is only about trivial pursuits. Nor that travel can't play an important role in geopolitics or contribute meaningfully to the diffusion of tensions.
I've written in the past about Mejdi Tours co-founder Aziz Abu Sarah and his unusual approach to building tours: He and co-founder Scott Cooper see travel as a vehicle to advance empathy and understanding of the complex realities in the destinations that Mejdi visits.
They don't bring guests to war zones but rather to places where intercommunal tensions simmer below the surface. Think Northern Ireland, the Balkans or, between active hostilities, Israel. I joined one of his tours last year to Colombia and, in addition to some excellent sightseeing, learned a tremendous amount about the continuing challenges that the nation faces. We met and interacted with a wide variety of people who had suffered, rebounded and are now working to heal Colombian society.
Tour operators don't often write books produced by major publishing houses, but Abu Sarah has just co-written one to be released this week. He is a Palestinian Muslim and his co-author, Maoz Inon, is an Israeli Jew. Both have lost close family members in the conflict between their respective nationalities. At its heart, the book is a guidebook and travelogue and looks at the destination being explored, Israel and Palestine, within an unusual 360-degree context.
The structure of the book is centered around a trip through the Holy Land they took together following the Oct. 7 attacks, in which both of Inon's parents were killed. As they travel, they bring along their shared belief in the power of reconciliation. Together, they visit Tel Aviv, Jaffa, Jerusalem, Bethlehem, Nazareth, the Galilee region and kibbutzim. The resulting book, "The Future is Peace" (Crown, 2026), is moving, enlightening and inspiring.
What separates it from other travelogues is the historical context they emphasize that brings to the fore not just a city or attraction as it is but the significance of what it has been. For example, Jaffa, today a thriving Israeli port city, was once the cultural capital of Palestine, and Abu Sarah points to physical remnants of its former status that still survive.
He and Inon speak with people they meet and draw out their personal stories and how their communities and lives have changed. As Inon walks down the streets of Tel Aviv, he not only sees the modern city it has become but focuses on sites that played a critical role to the founding of his nation.
The book provides this historical perspective, but their journey is also a quest to "search for alternate histories of the Holy Land that could shed light on a possible path to peace in our time." They're aware of Jerusalem's powerful sense of being "a portal between worlds," yet also "something darker and more dystopian." Its nuances emerge once they are joined in their walk through the old city by a rabbi and Palestinian tour guide.
A caution: Those who are highly partisan or bitter, or whose anguish arises from personal loss, may not like this book. Both authors are unflinching in describing the events that, for their brethren on both sides of the divide, serve as justification to pursue vengeance in any form. Those who do not feel an affinity with one side or the other may come away thinking, "A pox on both your houses."
But given the recent escalation of violence in the region, it's clear that none of us is free from the impact of what occurs in the Middle East.
Many -- perhaps most -- readers may come away feeling sympathy for the authors' perspective and ambitions but feel that they are naive in their belief that dialogue can resolve conflicts that run so deep.
The authors, on the other hand, feel they are the realists. "We know that bombs will not bring quiet, walls will not protect us and war will not bring security to either side," they write. "What is truly naive is imagining that fear and multigenerational trauma will lead to security."
As I mentioned earlier, the concerns of travelers and the travel industry are not likely to be seriously regarded during wartime. Still, the framework of this important book -- a journey -- speaks to its core message: You cannot resolve conflict if you stay within your parochial narrative. You must visit other landscapes, both literal and figurative.
Although tourism plays no apparent role in wars, the book underscores that its role in preventing them can be substantial.