War in Israel

In November 2012, I was in the south when Operation Pillar of Defense took place (see here and here for my discussion on those events).  In fact, the ceasefire and a bus bombing both happened on my birthday. I was pretty shaken, mainly by the siren rather than the rockets. I know what it's like to be on edge and constantly wonder - should I take a shower or put earplugs in at night to try to sleep some? I know the sound of the Iron Dome shooting rockets out of the sky and feeling the vibration of that explosion in the walls and floor. When we had drills throughout the country after that time (when I was in Beersheva, in the Israel Museum, at Pardes), I hated it. I could feel the anxiety coming back. Not out of fear for my life but because the sound of the siren is so jarring and terrifying. It's not something that we hear everyday or should hear everyday.

But I also know that after my trip to Sderot last fall that my experience is just a blip. I didn't grow up hearing the sirens. In Gedera, we had one minute to get to a shelter. In Sderot, it's 15 seconds or less. In Gedera, we had a mamat (safe room) in our apartment, unlike our friends and neighbors who didn't since their buildings were built in the 1970s and hadn't been updated.

People have been posting videos of what it's like to hear the siren and go to the safe room and also what happens when you are outside and the sirens go off - pictures of people crouching between cars and highway separators, under the concrete bus stops, and even next to a bush because that's the closest thing that might protect you.

I don't need to watch the videos. Some people want others to know what it's like, but I don't need to. The thought of watching the video, or rather the thought of hearing the siren is enough to make my heart beat a little faster.

I don't need any of those reminders to feel it, to understand it, to empathize.

I also know that the news of this side doing this or this side doing that isn't helpful, and yet I read the news anyway. I know what it was like for life to just go on as before, with reminders of sirens every now and then, "oh right, there are rockets in the south" and "oh, right, we aren't going anywhere."

I'm disappointed and critical. I'm disillusioned and cynical. Where will this lead? Back to the same place we were at before.

I keep thinking - what if this was here, in the US? If rebel drug lords in Mexico were shooting rockets at California, Arizona, New Mexico, would the US just stand by? Would the UN say, oh no, the US should be punished for their oppression of civilians caught in the middle. When the criminals use civilians as human shields, how can you play fair? There is no fairness in war. Everyone suffers. I know that Gazans have fewer resources on the whole, fewer bomb shelters, and fewer other safety measures, and yet the ones shooting the rockets really don't care if it lands in Gaza or in Israel. Those shooting the rockets don't care about life.

Another operation, another war. Nothing is going to change. I was hopeful when we visited the West Bank and spoke with activists working with the Bedouins and the Palestinians and also when I visited the kibbutz at the Gaza border and had the opportunity to hear from a Palestinian peace activist living in Gaza. Small change will help, but not enough. We need big sweeping changes and people need to forgive. Otherwise we won't move forward.

As we head into Shabbat today, I hope you will think about the conflict and pray for peace, as I do everyday.

Shabbat shalom.