Remembering, Hoping, and Choosing Humanity

Two years ago today, I woke up in a beautiful bungalow in a vineyard in the Valle de Guadalupe, outside of Ensenada, Mexico. It was early — a quiet morning where the sunlight cut through the morning fog just enough to make you want to stay still. My phone buzzed with a few messages from friends:

“Ryan, what’s happening in Israel?”
“Are your friends okay?”

As someone who has close friends in Israel and visits often, my non-Jewish friends tend to come to me for context when the headlines turn grim. I was trying to stay mostly offline that weekend, in the Baja peninsula for a friend’s wedding. I figured it was another short flare-up — tragic, but familiar. Then I opened The Times of Israel app. The words didn’t make sense at first. There were reports of militants crossing the border. Hostages. Whole communities attacked. My stomach dropped.

It wasn’t just another round of rocket fire. It was the darkest day in Israel’s history — and one that would change everything.

The Day That Changed Everything

That Saturday morning in 2023 shattered the illusion of safety. Hamas and allied militants launched a brutal assault across the border, massacring families, burning homes, and kidnapping more than two hundred civilians. Kibbutzim like Be’eri and Kfar Aza became synonymous with horror.

In the months and years that followed, the images, testimonies, and grief have never faded. The pain stretched far beyond Israel’s borders — felt by Jews across the world, including myself, and by anyone who believes in the sanctity of human life.

And as Israel fought back, Gaza became a landscape of devastation and heartbreak in its own right. Tens of thousands have died. Innocent lives have been crushed in the middle of a conflict most never asked for.

This is what war always leaves behind: grief that knows no border, and trauma that outlives the news cycle.

A Glimmer of Hope

Two years later, there are signs — finally — of movement toward peace. Today as I type this, Israel and Hamas are engaged in indirect negotiations in Sharm el-Sheikh, with mediators pushing for the release of the remaining hostages in exchange for a phased ceasefire and new security arrangements.

It’s fragile. It’s uncertain. But it’s something.

The families of those kidnapped have endured unthinkable pain. To imagine a future where they can finally bring their loved ones home — even if only for burial — is to imagine a small, sacred victory for humanity.

If the war’s end is truly near, it must also be the beginning of something better. Israel deserves peace. Palestinians deserve dignity and self-determination. And both deserve leaders brave enough to choose coexistence over vengeance.

Self-Determination and Two Truths at Once

Being a liberal Zionist means believing in both Jewish self-determination and Palestinian self-determination. It means holding two truths at once: Israel has a right to exist in peace, and Palestinians have a right to a homeland.

But that dual commitment is under siege.

Too many on the pro-Palestinian side have crossed from legitimate criticism into antisemitic hatred — from opposing Israeli policy to demonizing Jewish people. That is not activism; it’s bigotry. It should be condemned by anyone serious about justice. You can hate Netanyahu and despise what he and his government have ordered the IDF to do, but you can’t in good faith blame all Jews as a people or all Israeli citizens for those actions and the devastation the actions have created on the ground in Gaza.

We can want a Palestinian state and still reject those who chant for Israel’s destruction. We can demand accountability from Israeli leaders without blaming innocent civilians. We can oppose war without excusing terrorism.

Peace is not achieved by dehumanizing the other side.

What We Owe the Memory of October 7

Two years on, we owe the victims — and ourselves — a commitment to decency.

• • To never forget the 1,200 Israelis murdered that day.
  • To support a just resolution that brings every hostage home and protects every innocent life, Israeli and Palestinian alike.
  • To stand against hatred in every form, whether it hides behind nationalism or activism.

October 7 was a day of terror, but it doesn’t have to define our future. As this war hopefully ends, let it end with accountability, compassion, and a vision for something more just than what came before.