It was two years ago this month, in July 2014, that my flight touched down in Ben Gurion Airport half an hour later than scheduled.
Normally this wouldn't be noteworthy, but I could see traces of panic on my mum's face as she collected me from the gate. 'Suddenly your flight disappeared from the board,' she said. 'I was worried.'
Earlier, on the plane, I had noticed that the flight was going on longer than anticipated. The view outside my window didn't reflect the familiar sprawling Mediterranean seascape rolling into the glittering shores of Tel-Aviv, but an entirely different scene: desert, sparse lights. The plane had taken an unplanned detour en route to Ben Gurion.
There were rumours of Hamas missiles landing in the vicinity of the airport. A few days later multiple airlines announced they were ceasing travel to Israel. What would become Israel's deadliest offensive in Gaza since the Second Intifada, 'Operation Protective Edge', was entering its second week.
The 2014 assault was more aggressive than those of previous years. Compare the 2200 Palestinian deaths (including more than 500 children) in Protective Edge with 1398 Palestinian casualties from 2009's Operation Cast Lead. 2015 saw another escalation in violence.
How did it come to this? I suggest that the current situation is framed in terms of segregation and violent rhetoric; both serve to inflame a volatile status quo. Let's consider each in turn.
While current geographic borders were set as a result of the 1967 War, the Oslo Accords of 1993 and 1995 significantly hindered Palestinian movement. Oslo divided the Occupied Territories (West Bank) into zones A (Palestinian Authority control, 18 per cent of the total area), B (PA is responsible for civil control, Israel has control over security matters, 22 per cent) and C (full Israeli control, 60 per cent).
Segregation not only divides Palestinian and Israeli societies (as entry to Israel is encumbered by an impossibly bureaucratic process), but also separates village from village, often cutting off water supply and precious farmland.
"If in Israeli society the word 'Arab' comes to signify the other, in Palestinian society, too, the word 'Jew' articulates terror or disgust."
Snaking across the landscape like a protruding grey vein is the separation barrier built during the 2000s. It doesn't follow the borders of 1967 but cuts inside Palestinian territories with devastating economic and social effects. The wall isn't only there to curb terrorism; it's a symbolic representation of the deep chasm