At this moment, the conflict in Israel overwhelms and saddens me more than any other world crisis. Having come to study in Jerusalem for the year, I find that I have planted myself and my family in the heart of this war. Being here during this past week of violence, reading about attacks taking place just minutes from where I live and experiencing the palpable fear on the streets, has made me aware of my previous default attitude toward the conflict: that of an immune voyeur.
In the US, I could afford to examine the issues from a distance, with care and curiosity and frustration. I could read the news and the articles responding to the news, sit in shul and listen to sermons supporting/criticizing/mourning the state of things over there, and wonder about what can be done both to realize the zionist dream of a democratic, Jewish state and to protect the lives, homes and dignity of Palestinians. Even while living in Jerusalem four years ago and during the month prior to these attacks, I believed deep down I was not really a part of this. I enjoyed experiencing Israel, even in Israel, at a safe distance.
But now I am living in Jerusalem at a time when people are stabbing and shooting people, apparently at random. And I am afraid. I am afraid every time I board a bus that a fellow passenger will stab me. I am afraid of leaving my baby at daycare. I am afraid of walking in busy pedestrian areas on my way to buy milk. And I'm afraid of what my fear is doing to my imagination and outlook; yesterday I observed myself racially profiling every person I passed on the street, with the hope of avoiding the kind of person I imagine might attack me and my baby. I have nightmares about visiting Palestinian neighborhoods for the sake of peaceful dialogue and being threatened by men wielding bloody machetes. For the past four days, I have not been able to take a deep breath, even when I've tried. I have been forcing myself to eat in spite of my total lack of apetite; I am constantly nauseous and filled with dread. Every time I kiss my husband before he goes out to grab groceries or take out the trash, I kiss him extra hard and command him to be safe and text me updates on his status.
My Israeli friends tell me westerners are just not made for the Middle East; we are not built for terror or the harsh reactions to it. They advise me to do what Israelis do: be cautious but carry on with your routine. A teacher of mine who has been living here for 20 years tells me that, during waves of violence like this, he just ignores it.
I went to another teacher asking him for some consolation: how long do you think this will last? am I safe to ride the buses? are we ok? To each answer he responded honestly, "I just don't know." He tells me that he has not seen Israelis this frightened in a long time and that there's no way of knowing how long this wave of violence will last, whether it will escalate or die down, whether it will inspire long-term change or just affirm and perpetuate hatred and violence. He says something else that continues to echo in my mind: We all live according to a story; people here kill for their stories.
No longer immune, no longer a voyeur, I am now feeling real fear. I am getting a taste of what Israelis feel when these waves of violence suddenly crash - and perhaps also a taste of what Palestinians feel even more constantly, unable to take care of basic needs without feeling threatened. Feeling this fear makes knowing what to do, how to help, even more difficult. The issues are old, messy and life-threatening.
That being said, I still want to help.
In an article posted Friday in the Times of Israel, addressing the fear among Jews living in Jerusalem, David Horovitz writes: "Ultimately, the only way to thwart people bent on murder, with their minds poisoned by racism and religious extremism, is to curb the flow of toxicity. Different lessons at school; different priorities and values from spiritual leaders; different messages from political leaders; different approaches on mainstream and social media." While he wrote this prescription in reference to the Palestianian population, I chose to take more universal guidance from it: Jews and Muslims, Palestinians and Israelis, citizens and voyeurs, all of us must actively "curb the flow of toxicity" to bring about lasting peace and dignity for every human living on this tiny strip of land.
So let's rephrase: How can I help to CURB THE FLOW OF TOXICITY?
Below is an incomplete list of ideas I have to help curb toxicity. Be warned that these suggestions require internal work! I honestly do not think there are simple, one-time-only ways to do this.
1. Start With Yourself:
Take inventory of your own beliefs, uncertainties and fears. Cultivate an awareness of these so that when you speak and act, you do so with honesty and humility. Go about this self-investigation with curiosity and compassion. Allow yourself to acknowledge feelings and beliefs that you are inclined to reject because they conflict with who you think you are supposed to be (e.g. liberal, pro-Israel, anti-Israel, reasonable, intellectual, independent, put together, etc.). Be open to examining what you are inclined to ignore, minimize or avoid. Ultimately, aim to answer the questions: What matters most to me? What am I afraid of? What do I struggle most with? How can I improve as a citizen of the world?
An excellent resource for going about this self-investigation is a 4th Step Worksheet (from the 12 Steps practice), which invites you to examine your resentments and fears. Completing this worksheet can help uncover our true beliefs about ourselves and our relationships. This revelation can in turn inspire openness to new and better ways of acting in the world. I highly recommend completing this process with a partner - someone you trust - to support one another and to hold each other accountable. You can schedule times to sit and write and times to share and process what you are discovering about yourselves. You can complete this worksheet in a journal:
A. Resentments
Column 1: List all people, places, things, institutions, ideas or principles with which you are angry with, resentful of, feel hurt or threatened by. What are some situations that upset you? (Resentment = a persistent feeling of ill will and suppressed anger caused by a sense of an injustice, injury, offense, or wrong done / to resent basically means to feel again strongly or to re-live again.)
Column 2: Write the reasons for your resentments: why are you resentful at __________? What about them, they, or it make you angry? List all the reasons you have for each name in column 1. You could have more than one resentment toward each person, place or thing. What happened? Be specific: why were you angry, hurt, or threatened?
Column 3: Check off which part of your self was affected (self-esteem, pride, pocketbook, emotional security, ambitions, personal relations, sex relations).
Column 4: Here we list our part in the resentment - list where you are at fault. What's the truth here? Where was my responsibility in this resentment? What part do I own? What might I have done differently?
B. Fears
Column 1: List your fears.
Column 2: What was the harm done by the fear to yourself or others?
Column 3: Why do you have these fears?
Column 4: What could you have done instead?
2. In Your Community:
I have a few ideas for how to decrease toxicity in your community (this could be your spiritual community, your workplace, your family, etc.):
-If your group wishes to discuss a difficult topic (ahem, Israel, for example), write up a Communication Agreement that delineates guidelines for creating a safe space and speaking honestly and respectfully. Appoint a skilled mediator to emcee the conversation. Your main goal should be to make it possible for people to feel like they can be themselves and speak their truth without being resented, ostracized or attacked. The inevitable discomfort people may feel should be productive and heart-opening, not alienating.
-Try this: For every act of violence and hatred committed somewhere in the world, you commit one random, senseless act of kindess and love in your community. Be the change you wish to see; enact the kind of actions you imagine would take place in a peaceful world. Fear and violence breed fear and violence. In response to fear and hatred, take on the practice of responding with loving attention in your local environment.
3. In Israel:
See #1 and #2. In addition, there are many organizations in Israel that give Israelis and Palestinians the opportunity to hear one another, create together, and work together for a peaceful solution. By not assuming that our story is the only story, our narrative the only true narrative, we decrease toxicity. By sharing our love for our story without feeling ashamed or afraid, we decrease toxicity. A few such organizations are Givat Haviva and Encounter. Just by spending time in Israel with the intention of actively experiencing life on the ground helps one to understand and become humbled by the depth of complexity of the conflict.
