For all the commentary on the conflict in Gaza, one seemly obvious question seems to get lost in each new day of violence and human tragedy: How does this all play out?

I was studying the Middle East as an undergraduate when the first Palestinian intifada began in 1987. My most salient experience with the Arab-Israeli conflict involved a small seminar in which most of the students spent most of the time yelling at each other. They didn’t agree on the maps. They didn’t agree on the history. They didn’t agree on the interpretation of current events. I had no emotional connection to the region; I was just an observer with an intellectual interest in ending the conflict.

Not much has changed. Since then I’ve spent time in Israel and the West Bank, and in many of the other countries across the region: Jordan, Egypt, Turkey, Lebanon, Kuwait. When I hear actors on all sides of the Palestinian conflict explain their actions and motivations, I’m always struck by the fact that every action seems perfectly logical and rational in the short run — and almost nothing makes sense in the long run.

Why did you hit me? Because I hit you first. That makes perfect sense, except that I’m going to hit you back, then you’ll hit me again, and eventually we are both going to end up bloody and unconscious on the sidewalk. At which point our relatives will start fighting each other.

Remember, the current conflict in Gaza began with the heinous murder of Israeli youths. Then the revenge killings. Then the sweep by Israeli forces for Hamas suspects. Then the rockets fired on Israel. Then the Gaza airstrikes and the ground invasion.

And here we are again, in a sadly familiar situation. So let me set aside the discussion of who did what to whom, and ask instead two basic questions for both the Palestinians and the Israelis: What do you want in the long run? And how does what you are doing now help you to achieve that?

I don’t think either side can offer a coherent answer to the second question. Let’s start with Israel. Yes, a country can and should defend itself against rockets being fired from next door (a point that has been made repeatedly). And yes, Hamas has compounded the civilian casualties by conducting operations in densely populated areas.

But to the discussion of whether the Israeli strikes are morally justified, add the other crucial question: Are they wise? Are they likely to advance or impede Israel’s interests over the next five, 10, or 50 years? I don’t know the answer, but I’d like to hear the discussion given that every past conflict seems to have bred a new generation of extremists, often more virulent than the last.

Now let’s turn to the Palestinians. Yes, Israel is your oppressor, and has been for as long as many of you have been alive. Yes, each new Israeli settlement nibbles away at Palestinian territory and casts doubt on the viability of a two-state solution. Yes, day-to-day life is a series of intrusions, deprivations and civilian casualties.

But how does firing rockets indiscriminately from a territory from which Israel voluntarily withdrew advance your interest of living a life of dignity and prosperity in an independent sovereign state? To get there, you need to persuade Israelis that they can live safely next to an independent Palestinian state. And you need to persuade the international community to rally behind your cause. You are accomplishing neither.

Meanwhile, every violent action on one side empowers the most intransigent, hardline politicians on the other. Which brings me back to the first question I posed: What do you want in the long run?

That may be the real problem here, as there no longer seems to be a clear answer on either side of the conflict. Polling before the outbreak of violence in Gaza suggests that support for a two-state solution lies somewhere between weak and crumbling. In particular, what appears to be majority support for the two-state solution among both Israelis and Palestinians erodes when even the basic parameters of a deal are presented. (Read an interesting analysis of current public opinion in the region here.)

Neither side has produced anyone within throwing distance of a Middle East Mandela who can transcend domestic politics and sell a vision for peace. Outsiders are rightly skeptical of wading into the quagmire. When was the last time anyone, in the region or outside of it, presented a compelling vision for how this conflict might end?

The “roadmap to peace” metaphor lurks on the brink of cliché. But in this case, it may be apt. If you don’t know where you are going, it’s hard to get there. For as long as I’ve been paying attention, which is going on 30 years, the road to nowhere in this conflict has been paved with innumerable violent actions, each of which seemed rational and justified in the moment.

The journey has been bloody, frustrating, and futile. Would anyone involved in any way with the first intifada be content with what has happened over the subsequent three decades?