A Jewish friend who has long worked to normalize relations between Israelis and Palestinians was recently confronted with the sight of her daughter sobbing at the bus stop after being dropped off after school. Kids in her grade had told her that times are bad for Jews again, lots of people hate them, and she and her family should watch out. “Will they gas us because we’re Jews?” this elementary school-aged girl wailed. “I don’t want to be gassed!”
Throughout the horrors and vileness of Hamas terror attacks, and now the new war sparked between Israelis and Palestinians, this incident seems like a small one. Still, it shines a bright light into the heart of the current crisis, wherein good people are faced with terrible dilemmas.
I pride myself on offering people solutions instead of opinions, but there are few solutions I can offer here, except this one: don’t be an asshole.
It may be that you read this little story and thought to yourself, “Ha! Guess this woman should’ve known better than to advocate for Palestinians! Self-loathing Jew!” Or maybe you thought, “Ha! A family of Zionists is getting what they deserve! Fascist pigs!” Both of those impulses are, in fact, fucked up. Not feeling fucked up is a luxury to many, many people right now, and it takes effort to not slide into reactionary gloom. The effort, I believe, is worth it.
When I was younger, I thought my friend was too much of an idealist. Idealism leaves you vulnerable, and I feared vulnerability.
As I get older, I have come to realize that only the strongest people can afford to be vulnerable in hard times, and to keep their hearts from hardening. My heart hardened quite a bit since Russia launched a genocidal invasion of my native country of Ukraine – I don’t pretend to be especially strong or enlightened – but there are parts of me that remain untouched by rage and I try to cultivate them as much as possible. Rage can be useful when it propels you forward, but it’s good to take note of where it is propelling you.
I can still imagine a peaceful future, and for as long as I manage to do that, I can remain myself. I am not, however, a pacifist. Again, pacifism can be a luxury. I don’t have it. Millions of people do not have it. I would like that luxury, however. I genuinely find myself yearning for it, as I find myself yearning for the kind of idealism and hope that my friend has possessed over the years that we have known each other.
I asked my friend what I could do to help. I thought maybe she would want to be very public about how her family has been affected, go on the record, maybe organize an interfaith event of the sort she has frequently done in order to help herself and the people around her, who are both Jewish and Muslim, find their footing. She told me to tell people this: she’s trying her best to remain true to herself while simultaneously protecting her family from trauma – and potential violence too, because, let’s face it, a bunch of people have gone nuts.
So I am passing on her message. If you are reading these words, I hope the message can reach you. I hope you can do something good with it.
I am leaving it at that.
Image: Graffiti by Yuval Caspi in Kiryat HaMelaha Tel Aviv. Based on two famous national cartoons: Srulik of Kariel Gardosh who represents Israel and Handala by Naji al-Ali who represents the Palestinian people. Photo by Nizzan Cohen
