The Endless Scroll for Peace: Why do I keep fighting on social media?
Why do I keep posting my pro-Israel views on Facebook and Instagram? Why do I still naively believe that I have finally constructed the one defining argument that can persuade a friend, a former classmate, a neighbor’s son… who holds an opposing view?
It’s been almost three years since October 7, and I find myself trapped in the same cycle of endlessly scrolling through social media, feeling incensed and frustrated by the feeds of friends and acquaintances, as I continue to post my point of view, hoping for a breakthrough. Yet nothing changes.
Why do I get sucked into the exhausting back-and-forth of sharing my truth, only to be subjected to what feels like a fundamentally distorted truth from the other side? Every time I hit “post” on a clear, compelling statement, I visualize the faces of my political opponents and think, I gotcha this time. I truly believe that this specific argument is so undeniable that it will automatically shift the perspective of readers on both sides. It never does. And it never ends there.
The reality of social media is that it is built for confrontation, not conversion. At times, if I am being completely honest, I can see a grain of veracity in their posts, even if we ultimately arrive at wildly different conclusions. This realization brings a darker, more troubling thought: if we cannot reach a meeting of the minds among mostly like-minded friends on Facebook and Instagram, how can governments with opposing agendas ever resolve their differences?
When the digital gridlock feels entirely hopeless, I find myself looking away from social media and toward recent history. I am reminded of the Truth and Reconciliation Commissions that emerged in the late 20th century, helping more than 40 countries (South Africa, Sierra Leone, Argentina, Chile, Rwanda, and others) transition away from periods of apartheid, civil war, systemic abuse, and dictatorship. They succeeded not by winning arguments on social media, but by documenting human rights violations and fostering a painful, necessary process of national healing.
I want to believe that countries in the Middle East can eventually be added to the list of nations that have learned to live alongside formerly hostile neighbors in genuine peace. To get there, the terms of engagement have to change entirely, both online and on the ground:
- No more charters calling for the destruction of Israel, and no more believing that one indigenous people can simply wipe out another indigenous nation.
- An end to double-speak, where speeches delivered in Arabic convey the exact opposite of the peaceful words uttered to Western media in English.
- A complete cessation of violence: No more war, and no more bloodshed.
This is what we all hope for. This is the quiet, desperate longing that sits beneath every angry political post and every late-night scrolling session. We scream into the digital void because we care deeply about the outcome, but a Facebook comment section will never behave like a truth and reconciliation commission. True healing will not come from a “gotcha” argument on a timeline; it will only come when both sides finally agree to acknowledge the humanity of the neighbor they are trying to persuade.