The company is not a bad barometer of the fast-growing West Bank economy and how, quietly, Prime Minister Salam Fayyad is building the elements and institutions of statehood. Khoury knows that, as he put it, “We could wake up one day and all this will be under siege again,” but he’s placing his faith in Fayyad’s “wise leadership.”

I asked Khoury what he would say to an Israeli general if he had the chance. “I would tell him that Israel is a reality and the Palestinian people are ready to live in peace,” he said. “We are not terrorists but we have the right to resist occupation. I would say that you are greedy. You have to give up the West Bank and go back to the 1967 borders, for the sake of Israeli women and children and Palestinian women and children. Enough is enough.”

There are Israeli settlements on either side of his village. Khoury sees one from his window. Gesturing toward it, he said of the 22 percent of British Mandate Palestine that are the West Bank and Gaza, “You see, we want this land, not half of it.”

That is also Fayyad’s position. Development is his means to get there. “A road, a health care facility, a school — people are beginning to buy into it,” Fayyad said. “There is a sense of self-empowerment.”

But for now, Palestinian development has to happen in whatever small space is accorded by Israel. If 6 percent economic growth is to continue, the West Bank must wean itself off massive international aid and become self-sustaining. But logistics remain a nightmare.

Because of checkpoints, it takes Khoury a day to get his beer into Israel, when Jerusalem is 20 minutes away. All the beer in kegs has to transit a single checkpoint near Hebron, nearly three hours away. Bottled beer takes a more direct route, but closures are frequent. “The other day it was raining and the Israelis said their dogs couldn’t sniff and everything shut down,” Khoury said.

“If you complain,” he continued, “there’s just one word — security.”

Peace is risk, no way around that. But Israel won’t do better than Fayyad. He’s a man worth taking risks for. And if you think the Holy Land could ever be a place where a Jew from Odessa drinks Arab beer in Tel Aviv made by Palestinian entrepreneurs with a joint called Foley’s in Brookline and a factory in a West Bank village with a church — and thinks nothing of it — then you should get behind Taybeh by paying it a visit.

It’s the right thing to do.