Win-Win, Lose-Lose – End the War

Climbing the rungs from the depths of the deep, black hole, where my mind and soul spent the past week, I climbed and lost my grip and descended and ascended. My body escaped to join protests at the nearby highway intersection and in Tel Aviv close to the Ministry of Defense. That’s it. Six bodies. Shot. Murdered. Just a day or two before the IDF rescued their bodies, aware of Israeli soldiers approaching, their captors following Hamas orders, shot and fled. Protest demonstrations – a public grieving space.

There is so much to say, so much said about every aspect of the news last Saturday night – six hostages’ bodies:  Carmel Gat (40), Eden Yerushalmi (24), Hersh Goldberg-Polin (23), Alexander Lobanov (33), Almog Sarusi (27) and Ori Danino (25). A moment of silence.

We had a hold-your-head with both hands moment on the train to Tel Aviv to on Sunday with the ostensibly likeminded going protest government policy on hostage deals. We met a couple Haim knows. The woman tells me what the Israeli response to the murder of these six hostages should be: take the Palestinian prisoners in Israeli jails, put them on a plane, drop them in the sea. I’ll continue advocating for democracy – it’s a balance that imposes limits on leaders elected by majorities of people who need their views checked by legislation and judicial practices. We protested the tactics of the Israeli government. My head creeped up a rung out of my black hole.

The following evening newscasters began announcing an imminent press conference with the Prime Minister. A no-brainer. Haim and I looked at each other, eyebrows raised, agreeing we could anticipate Netanyahu justifying his intentions of continuing this war. He met our expectations. I slipped down my imaginary black hole, with moldy, rancid cylindrical walls encompassing me.

Later that evening, questions came from one friend from abroad, seeking to understand. Netanyahu’s argument was substantiated by convincing logic. The art of Bibi Netanyahu. Confronted by his lies, my spiraling surge of responses erupts in conversation, voice messages, and text messages into the following day reacting to more inquiries from abroad. My attempts to frame the arguments in a broader set of facts and perspective reflected responses of military personalities, should-be leaders of the Opposition, commentators and analysts.

On Tuesday, I found relief at an #AbrahamInitiatives conference on mixed cities in Haifa. Mixed cities in Israel, though lacking an official definition, refers to cities where up to 80% of residents are Jewish, and Palestinian citizens of the State of Israel account for at least 20% of the population. Seven cities are widely recognized as such with increasing numbers of cities qualifying for the title. Everything about this fascinates me, gives me hope that discrimination will have to be addressed in ways neglected or abandoned over decades of disregard for the shared society that should define Israel. I climbed some rungs out of my black hole.

As one politician spoke on a panel, I added to my exchange of text messages following inquiries from abroad. It occurred to me, contrary to claims that Netanyahu tolerates Ben Gvir and Smotrich and their extreme right-wing platforms to keep his government from falling apart, that perhaps in his past governments he tolerated more moderate views to keep his government coalitions intact. With his artful eloquence, he historically, made occasional statements aligned with the likes of Ben Gvir. Now, he has the coalition which enables him to act like them.

During another session, panelists’ remarks triggered thoughts, even if panel constraints inhibited deeper discussion. Silencing. Palestinian citizens of the State of Israel silenced by different tactics. One Palestinian woman citizen of Israel spoke about her personal experience: knowing that you have, should have, a democratic right to freedom of expression, she knows where that right is curbed, short of where it is curbed for Jewish citizens. Thus, some Palestinian citizens are silenced by choice, choosing to say nothing, rather than comply with speaking until you reach that rigid limit where your self-expression can get you arrested.

In an exchange between a Jewish panelist and a Palestinian panelist – both Israeli citizens – the latter, representing herself commented that she doesn’t want Jews to serve as her voice. Understandable. Patronizing implications. The Jewish panelist, speaking for herself, asserted that if she makes public statements or advocates on social media for rights of Palestinian citizens of Israel, or identifies with concerns of Palestinian citizens for their people in Gaza and the West Bank, these are her interests. Paraphrasing: She is not a mouthpiece for silenced Palestinian citizens. She is her voice for human rights, for equality, for democracy, for the Israeli society she envisions.

Complex identities. Projections. Insights into unintentional insensitivity. A Palestinian panelist mentioned how growing up as a citizen of Israel in an enabling environment, her spoken Hebrew barely carried a trace of an accent. It’s a thing. As a new immigrant to Israel over 40 years ago, I desperately wanted to overcome my American accent in Hebrew. I wanted to be Israeli, not identified as an outsider. I recall two distinct occasions as a graduate student at Hebrew University when I first became aware – or was made aware by comments of others – that Arab students, citizens of this Israel of which I wanted to be an integral part, spoke Hebrew with a different accent.

The panelist shared how she came to recognize her accent as an identity issue and found her natural Arabic accent served her for all Hebrew-speaking purposes. Understandable. Each individual has an individual take on the matter.

I recalled a recent conversation with an Arab-Bedouin woman, a Palestinian citizen of Israel. I commented on her Hebrew, with almost no detectable Arab accent. My comment appeared was ostensibly received as a compliment. Now, I realize the insensitive nonchalance of my comment. It could have been perceived as condescending and offensive. In Israel, a country of immigrants, distinct accents in Hebrew, range from Iraqi to Hungarian, Moroccan, Argentinian, Russian, American, and the list goes on. Palestinian citizens are not immigrants. The traces of my American accent in Hebrew include respecting confrontations of my identities.

Roundtable discussion allowed me cynical reappropriation of the “together, we will win” war slogan. It made me cringe from the moment it appeared just after October 7, because then and now, I see the polarization of Israeli society, and groups I would never want to be identified with. But together with activist Palestinian citizens of Israel working to achieve and ensure rights that should be applied to them, and to all citizens of Israel, is a win-win.

When protests coupled with strikes including schools, airports, health services, businesses, voices resonated with a question: Does this not alert Hamas to the divisiveness in Israeli society, vulnerability, weakness, soldiers who might not report for reserve duty? Is this not what happened before October 7, amidst protests of government judicial reform proposals? Maybe. But if we do not protest, if the remnants of democracy slip through our fingers, it will be a lose-lose situation. What Israel would we fight for then?

I checked to see if there had been a change in access to online news. No. No access to Al Jazeera’s website. A message advises the site is suspected of stealing identities and other information. The block protects my safety. Not my right to free access to information. The Association for Civil Rights in Israel is on the case for months.

As I grieved this week, I struggled with differences between interpersonal relationships and professional relationships in a binational organization such as the one in which I work. Our staff and members are citizens of Israel, and Palestinians who are not citizens and reside in the West Bank under Israeli occupation. It feels inappropriate to share any of the professional nuances. Simply, I know my Palestinian colleagues like all Palestinians in the West Bank endure a terrifying reality. Most Israelis are oblivious. In addition to reading about it in Haaretz which is the Israeli media exception in its coverage, I can hear firsthand stories whenever I inquire. Closure of villages. Economic implications. Fear of attack by neighboring, extremist Jewish settlers. Fear of being the victim of an Israeli military incursion at a refugee camp or some other suspected location of a terrorist.

One day this week, as I thought about the hostages’ bodies brought home last Saturday night, thinking about this war, thinking about October 7, about the tragedy of Gaza, about the murder of the hostages’ bodies brought home last Saturday night –as I was swimming my daily two kilometers, I became choked with tears under water.

When crying under water, you either stop swimming or think about something else. So, I thought: This war has to end. Honor codes interfere. Forgiveness jargon is premature, if not irrelevant. Justice? In the present tense. Injustices of the past are irreversible. This war has to end. Justice in the present tense.

Harriet Gimpel, September 7, 2024