This isn't an issue that can be resolved overnight, as some people would like to believe. Whether you believe in their cause or not, there can be no doubt that the settlers too have suffered from the years of mortal conflict between Israel and Palestine. Everyone in the settlements knows at least one person who has been killed by suicide bombers or sniper fire, and the scars are still fresh in their minds.
We met people who expressed genuine confusion that the Palestinians they worked alongside for years in the fields of the West Bank are the same figures who downed tools and took up arms as soon as the intifada erupted. The reasons might seem crystal clear to the outsider, but to the people on the ground, the events of the last few years make little sense at all.
I'm not suffering from Stockholm Syndrome, nor am I about to begin championing the settlers' cause, but I am aware that I need to provide some kind of context in terms of my previous articles on the topic. I abhor the vicious sentiments as expressed by firebrands like Nadia Matar, but at the same time I am aware that she is by no means representative of the settler community at large. Nor is she even representative of her own community; in fact, several people we met spoke dismissively of her extremist views and quietly wished that she'd take her rabble-rousing elsewhere.
This is not a plea for readers to embrace the settlers and clamber aboard the expansionist bandwagon. What it is, instead, is an attempt to shine the spotlight on the quiet majority inside the settlements, whose desire to live in peace is far stronger than any imagined urge to fight to the death. From what I've seen up to now on our tour, there is far more reason to be hopeful about rapprochement than I'd imagined before we first set foot inside their world. Their hearts are in the right place, in my opinion - it's just their houses that aren't.
http://commentisfree.guardian.co.uk/seth_freedman/2007/07/hope_for_the_future.html