How the Israeli-Palestinian boy band survived the heat of October 7

Last year, six young Jewish Israelis and Palestinians embarked on their life’s dream as a boy band bound for Los Angeles to record their debut album. But the day after they arrived, full of hope, in the entertainment capital of the world, their dream looked like it could be shattered. It was October 7.

A new documentary series on Paramount+ follows the first Israeli Palestinian boy band from their beginnings on a bootcamp in Neve Shalom – part of the search and audition launched by industry hitmakers James Diener and Ken Levitan (who signed and developed Maroon 5 and Kings Of Leon) to find the most talented singers and musicians in Israel.

As1one were brought together to show the possibilities of co-existence, but that message was painfully put to the test.

As band members Palestinian Christian Aseel Farah (22), Palestinian Bedouin Muslim Sadik Abu Dogosh (21), and Jewish Israelis Nadav Philips (23), Neta Rozenblat (22), Niv Lin (23) and Ohad Attia (22) acclimatised to their swanky new LA pad, news of the Hamas attack filtered through their social media.

Lin was the first to see the horror unfolding on his mobile phone feed and he soon discovered that a friend had been killed at Nova festival; he might have been there with her had he not won a place in the band.

“We were so excited to be in Los Angeles together,” says Farah, eyes lit up then quickly downcast. “But then in the morning, that all changed.”

They feared the band couldn’t continue.

“I said, it's either going to bring us together or break us apart,” Farah says. “It brought us together more, because of what we believe in, as a band, because music unites people. But the shock was really hard to deal with.

He adds, “I was raised differently to any of the guys, and then losing friends from the war, from the attack, and then being very scared for my family, the Palestinians in Israel, and the Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank, was a lot of emotions all of a sudden.”

He points out that they originate from different backgrounds and opinions and that what first inspired each of them is their traditions and identities. October 7 sparked their first political discussion as a group and they talked openly, their arguments ending in brotherly hugs.

“After all the arguments, we said, ‘What do we believe in together? We believe that we want peace and music.’ We saw the similarities in each of us, the humanity. It became more and more important for us to be here in Los Angeles, to work together and to work out the differences, even if we disagree. We want ‘let's all unite through music’ to be the message.”

Dogosh, who is quieter than his fellow band members, adds, “We're not different, but we're thinking differently.”

The inner conflict proved another challenge. On the one hand, they had just moved to LA to fulfil their dreams of recording music with top producers and songwriters in the industry. On the other hand, they yearned to be back home with their family and friends.

“It's the happiest thing in the world, but you have the dissonance of everything going on back home and how we're scared for our families,” says Rozenblat. “In the middle of a session, you check your Instagram and see you lost another friend. It's very conflicting and you have the highest highs and the lowest lows all in the span of ten minutes. It was really difficult to go through that.”

They were given the option of going home, but all decided to stay put.

It was only on the boot camp that they realised the producers’ intention of forming a mixed group of Israelis and Palestinians and initially it was a “passive statement” for the band. After the Hamas attack that instantly took on a new and deeper meaning and they rapidly became ambassadors for being Israelis and Palestinians together.

“Obviously, we didn't choose the context,” says Rozenblat. “It was supposed to be, ‘yes, we're Israeli and Palestinian, but we're going to make music, and we're not here to do anything else.’ Obviously, things changed… We were thrust into this position to represent where we're from, to represent our people and what it's like to be Israelis and Palestinians in a co-existing environment.”

It’s undeniably an overwhelming responsibility for young people already in the midst of a life-changing moment.

“This is an incredible honour,” Rozenblat quickly adds. “While we are standing for the same ideologies that we were before the war started, now it holds a lot more weight, and we’re proud of that.”

Ultimately, they are entertainers, aspiring to perform on the world’s biggest stages the same as any other rising stars.

“We are here because we are doing music. That's what we do best,” says Attia. “We're showing the world that different people can live and be together, especially as these are the hardest times in the Middle East. Music is the best thing to deliver our message. Now, we are on an important mission.”

Philips recalls thinking on the boot camp that it was “nice” to bring them all together, but he also remembers pondering, “I wonder how the world will react?”

That has proven a mixed bag. There are plenty voicing their outrage at the band across social media. “This is a disgusting PR stunt, especially considering what’s happening in Gaza and the West Bank,” slammed one user on Reddit. “It's just Israeli PR bull****,” said another.

One dismissed the band’s Palestinian members as “traitors” who “sold their souls to become Zionist propaganda”. One Instagram user claimed they were trying to “Boy Band away their Genocide” [sic] . Meanwhile, the news site Middle East Eye called them “Wrong direction”.

But the band refuse to be cowed by negativity. “We're breathing deep,” says Lin, with a half-smile. “There’s a lot of comments, and it's OK. We respect everything. But we stick to our truth. We keep on doing what we're doing.”

They choose to focus on the positive voices, such as those praising the band for bringing them hope.

“For every artist, the haters will always be there,” Attia says, unperturbed. “If you just focus on the positive, it inspires and motivates you.”

I wonder what they make of the extensive boycotts of Israeli arts in the UK.

“We would love to perform everywhere in the world, and invite everyone to listen to us,” says Farah. “We came here from our different backgrounds and political agendas, but in the end, we are still together, and we hope this can influence people to also see that, no matter where we come from and where you are, you can listen to the songs.”

Rozenblat turns to news reports of divisive protests around the world, and people taking a polarised stance on the war on social media. “It's either this side or that side. There's no in-between,” he laments. “And they'll be throwing up this statistic and that statistic, and it's very easy to dehumanise us and forget the fact that all these statistics are made up of individuals.

“That could be my family. It could be my friend. We want people to stop, and to really look us as people. Not to see Israel and Palestine, not to see two groups feuding, but to see humans, to see musicians... We humanise ourselves.”

The songs of their newly released debut EP, they say, are about hope rather than political. Although some social media dissenters objected to the appropriation of the “all eyes on Rafah” tag for their debut single title All Eyes on Us, an upbeat song which they recorded at Abbey Road studios with the legendary Nile Rodgers on guitar.

The songs deal with the wildly opposing emotions of their journey. Together As One captures the band’s purpose, while Stranger is about how it feels to be far from home, to have left their homeland before the war and feel scared to go back, “because you wonder if it's going to be the same, or different,” Attia says.

“There's the happy side of having our dreams come true. There's the sombre, deep side about what it's like to be Israelis and Palestinians. Each song has an important message.”

Recording the songs – not least Stop the World on October 9, “one of the toughest days” of their lives – provided catharsis in the turmoil.

“The music saved us,” says Philips. “It was probably the worst time of our life, but also the most amazing time, because we got to make our dream come true during the tragedies and music was the thing we put all our emotions into. We wrote about it. We cried about it. And it all shows in the songs.”

They are glad that the docuseries captures the true reality of their rollercoaster journey as a six-piece. “We've been going through so, so much,” says Lin. “That pain gave us strength, and nothing can beat us. Now the sky's the limit.”

As1one’s self-titled EP is out today

As1one: The Israeli-Palestinian Pop Music Journey premieres on Paramount+ on Tuesday