It appears that the cycle of violence is on the ascent. Most members of a family murdered in their sleep in the West Bank settlement of Itamar, rockets launched from Gaza (supplied by Iran and reaching further into Israel), I.D.F. retaliation damaging civilians and militants alike, pipe bombs and bus stop bombs exploding in Jerusalem.
On Facebook there is a group calling for the Third Intifada on May 15, 2011. It expresses the right of the Palestinian people to rise up against continued injustice and has thus far exceeded its goal of collecting 100,000 participants (at least on Facebook) and, at this very moment, boasts 291,189 supporters.
The response of the Israeli government is to expand the settlements. The response of the leadership of the Palestinian Authority is to condemn the violence and the settlements. The media broadcasts images of people in Gaza passing out sweets and rejoicing in every Israeli casualty their forces succeed in causing. There are no peace talks. I am not sure anymore that peace even represents the most expedient solution to the conflict at this point.
Yuli Edelstein, Israeli Minister of Diplomacy and Diaspora Affairs, wrote Mark Zuckerberg, asking him to remove the Third Intifada Facebook Cause, stating there is a difference between freedom of speech and the freedom to incite.
The University of Johannesburg, has officially cut ties with Ben Gurion University in the Negev, as part of the Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions Campaign against Israel.
PA Prime Minister Salam Fayyad reaffirmed his intent to establish a Palestinian state in a Huffington Post interview, published on March 23, 2011.
Living in Tel Aviv, it is very simple to know how neighbors and friends are feeling about everything. A little bit of fear, a little bit of worry, faith in the system, and, most disappointingly, an attitude of, "what else is new?"
I have almost no way of knowing how Palestinian counterparts are feeling. The media tells me they are ready for battle. And as people are killed on both sides, I can be assured that sympathy, empathy, compassion -- on both sides -- if a shred existed before, will be even sparser now.
It is all a great shame.
I feel frustrated that the world will sit and judge both sides without acknowledging the complexity of what needs to be known. I feel saddened that a university in South Africa has severed its relationship with the one university in Israel that actually boasts a large percentage of Arabs on its faculty, a university that deeply studies the plight of Bedouins in Israel and commits its resources to research that unveils the injustices and challenges these people endure due to discriminatory state policy. Ben Gurion University will continue to produce the research and its academics will continue to be progressive and faithful to the pursuit of truth, but I cannot imagine how damaging the symbol of a South African university being the first to disassociate itself from an Israeli institution of higher education will be.
And I just cannot help but be disillusioned by those in the world who are so convinced of their piety and opinion that they are unable to see the contribution they are making to the disunity of the worlds' peoples, rather than bringing them together.
I learn from living here that it is truly difficult to step and then walk around in someone else's shoes. It makes us vulnerable, it makes us question our own perceptions of the world, a potential and total destabilizer. And I am not convinced that doing so doesn't ultimately and actually pose a threat to our own well being. How can we really trust the other side(s)?
I often think of Israelis and what would happen if they stood in line at the checkpoints between Israel and the West Bank. If they had to suffer the humiliation of being herded through cold metal turnstiles and be barked at by teenager-soldiers, who determine whether or not a person will go to work, or to the hospital to give birth, or to a family gathering, on any given day. And I am pretty certain, that if they too had to be subjected to such treatment, they would call for an end to it, even today.
But I am also sure that if the visualization of being the other, then turns to the realities of suicide bombings and the uncertainty of the future, and knowing that while they're may be a million peace loving Palestinians, it only takes one martyr to ruin the lives of hundreds, maybe even thousands -- I can feel my own heart close up in a matter of seconds.
I often think of Palestinians and of their shame and disappointment. Their disadvantage and the limitations and fractiousness of their greater society. And I can only imagine how despicable it must feel to see how things never get better. To have a legacy of defeat and betrayal, misunderstanding and obstacles to being full human beings with dignity intact. And I can understand wanting to blame someone for what they are guilty of -- as well as what they are not guilty of.
But mostly I think of how much both sides have to lose if the situation becomes combustible once again. And I say shame on the leaders, the individuals, who would allow such a thing to happen.
I don't understand why the Israeli response to violence is to build more settlements.
I don't understand why Islamic Jihad in Gaza thinks they will gain something by shooting rockets into Israel.
I don't understand how so many people can be so careless with so many other peoples' lives.
Perhaps the most surprising revelation occupying my mind, however, is that -- while I am the first to judge, criticize and be reviled by Israeli society in a wide array of scenarios and events, I am quite certain that in the events transpiring in recent days, another truth is being revealed -- and that is how precarious and fragile the country, at times, really is. I see how mistakes are and will be made. And just like everybody else, I will simply hope for better times and soon.
