They chose Sderot deliberately.
A city scarred by two decades of rocket fire, whose streets still hold stories of trauma and resilience, became the stage for Magen Avraham, a high-level conference convened by the Coalition for Regional Security to mark five years since the Abraham Accords.
The symbolism was unmistakable: a gathering about regional normalization and shared prosperity held one mile from Gaza, where Hamas plots among its civilian population and infrastructure, and where Israeli families still wait for the return of hostages after more than 700 days.
The venue sent a clear message: reconciliation must be forged where violence is most prevalent and where the cost of failure is most evident.
Inside Sderot’s cinematheque, diplomats, generals, ambassadors, and regional experts gathered for an evening sponsored by the German Konrad Adenauer Foundation.
They presented new public-opinion data and debated the accords’ achievements and next steps: building a regional security architecture, prospects for Saudi normalization, economic and infrastructure cooperation, post-Gaza reconstruction, and the critical roles of education and strategic communications.
Outside, Sderot displayed both recovery and scars. New construction, thriving businesses, and the rhythms of daily life testify to Israel’s remarkable resilience. Yet many residents still carry scars, wounds of two decades of trauma and PTSD. That coexistence, growth alongside pain, framed the evening.
No bowing to Hamas
Sderot Mayor Alon Davidi set a blunt, necessary tone: “An accord held only on paper is not enough. If an Arab country conditions regional agreements on bowing before Hamas, there is no deal.” His words underscored strength, accountability, and a refusal to let normalization be hostage to terror.
Other speakers added nuance. Meir Ben-Shabbat, head of the Misgav Institute for National Security and of Israel’s delegation to the accord countries, reminded the audience that Arab states’ desire to engage with Israel still exists.
“Timing is difficult,” he said, “but peace must be underpinned by strength.” Former US ambassador Dan Shapiro was equally clear: normalization with Saudi Arabia will be possible “only after the war ends, the hostages are returned, and Hamas is overthrown.”
At the conference, the coalition released new survey data underscoring public backing. Seventy-two percent of Israelis view deepening the Abraham Accords as a supreme national interest; 67% believe the accords have strengthened Israel’s security and economy; and 78% would support a package that includes a ceasefire, hostage release, Hamas disarmament, and a pathway to normalization with Saudi Arabia.
Even in wartime, Israelis see regional alliances as strategic ballast.
Fragile diplomacy
Still, diplomacy is fragile. Amir Haik, Israel’s former ambassador to the United Arab Emirates, warned: “The Emiratis condemned Hamas immediately and reaffirmed their commitment. But when they say the accords are endangered, I cannot sleep.”
Marc Sievers, American Jewish Committee director in Abu Dhabi and former US ambassador to Oman, added: “Iran created conflict to prevent Israel-Saudi normalization.” Again and again, the discussion circled back to one truth: Riyadh is the strategic prize, but any durable agreement will depend on the outcome of the war and regional security guarantees.
Among the strategic analyses, I heard a humane chord from Ahmad al-Kouzai, a Bahraini political analyst I first met in Manama while exploring Bahrain’s water conservation efforts in 2022. He likened the accords to a marriage: “There will be bumps, but Israelis are the most resilient people I have ever met. They love life. There is hope.”
His words, warmly applauded, reminded everyone that diplomacy grows as much from human encounters as from treaties.
For me, this contrast is not theoretical. On the first anniversary of the accords, I wrote in the Khaleej Times about lessons from the United Arab Emirates on water and environmental collaboration, work that began with an invitation from the UAE Ministry of Climate Change and Environment shortly after the accords’ signing.
In September 2023, I joined a MENA Young Leaders delegation in Washington for the third anniversary, celebrating with Bahrain’s foreign minister at his embassy. Weeks later, I was set to sign a contract with an Israeli NGO to lead a peer-to-peer leadership program with Bahrain, with the ceremony scheduled for October 8.
However, just one day before, the October 7 massacre by Hamas terrorists shattered everything.
Weeks later, I walked those same Washington corridors again, this time with hostage families, pleading for meetings on Capitol Hill. Celebration and mourning, diplomacy and grief, the contrasts I carried to Sderot were raw and painfully real.
That is why this conversation matters. In the short run, Israel must shore up the home front with trauma care, resilience programs, and psychological support. But in the long run, we cannot abandon the work of regional cooperation. To do so would create vacuums that adversaries like Iran will exploit.
Two fault lines demand urgent attention: media and education. Speakers like Bahrain’s al-Kouzai, and Dan Fefferman of MiddleEast24, noted how Arab public opinion has been shaped by decades of hostile narratives. Few in the region know Israelis firsthand. When they do, perceptions change. That is why Israel needs a serious, sustained effort in strategic communication toward the Arab world, not only through governments but through people-to-people encounters, culture, and exchange.
Even more crucial is education. To my surprise, the conference gave it very little attention. Yet education will decide the future of the Abraham Accords more than any summit.
Peace depends on education
Real peace depends on what children learn in classrooms: who is cast as an enemy, who is recognized as a partner, and what future is imagined. The UAE has already taken bold steps to reform curricula over 30 years ago, even maintaining its embassy and airline links throughout the war while signaling readiness to help de-radicalize Gaza’s schools. These are not symbolic gestures; they are structural choices.
History shows why. After World War II, Allied occupational policy treated curriculum and textbooks as a primary lever for social transformation. Reformed school content and new education systems were central to the project of denazification in Germany and democratization in Japan. Changing what children learn helped change political culture over decades. That historical lesson is directly relevant here.
Why, then, has no one raised the obvious question? Has Saudi Arabia, still the leader of the Arab League, begun the difficult but necessary work of revising its curriculum to accept Israel and the Jewish people’s right to a homeland?
The conflict on Israel’s border is not only a military struggle but also the outcome of decades of indoctrination, via classrooms and media, mostly supported and funded by UNRWA, instilling hostility across four generations. The UAE has proven that reform is possible. Without it, diplomacy will remain a fragile shell.
Five years on, the Abraham Accords are fragile, imperfect, but vital. Marking the anniversary in Sderot was not a victory lap; it was a sober reminder of what is at stake. The real test of the accords will not be in summits or trade corridors alone, but in shaping what the next generation learns.
The choice before us is stark: let Sderot remain only a symbol of resilience, or make it the laboratory for a regional order that protects families, returns hostages, builds human ties, and educates for life.
The writer, a photojournalist, has returned to Sderot, where he focuses on the Gaza border as a global hub of resilience and innovation, documenting how recovery efforts and civic leadership are shaping the region’s future.