Read, Watch, Follow, Witness
Read, Watch, Follow, Witness
It can be tempting to fall into the comfort of our own lives, but this moment demands more from each of us.
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Yesterday morning, my wife had trouble waking up.
“I’m just so tired,” she said when I asked her why she wasn’t leaving the bed. “I was up very late last night.”
My wife explained to me that she had stayed up reading about Israel and Palestine. She had been hearing a lot of things about what was happening over there, but she wanted to understand more about the situation herself. She decided to devote several hours on Friday night to learning more instead of going to bed at a reasonable hour. She read some news stories, but then was drawn into reading and watching first hand accounts from Israelis and Palestinians posted on social media that were pleading for an end to the conflict.
I admired her greatly in that moment. I had tried a few times to try to get a better handle on things, but the headlines seemed to flood in nearly hourly and the passions on both sides seemed intense. Middle Eastern politics are complicated and had a long history, and I worried that I needed to understand all of the nuance of the history in order to understand the current conflict. My need for perfection, having the fullest knowledge of the situation with all of its subtlties, led to inaction and I wasn’t proud of that.
But my wife’s interest in educating herself sparked me to learn more and caused me to get off the sidelines. I had to get over the fear of knowing everything; to give myself the permission to begin somewhere even if it was an imperfect starting line.
So I began to read more, watch more, and followed some of the accounts she recommended. I may not have a scholar’s understanding of the entire situation yet, but I am not completely in the dark either. I realize that I have an obligation to be educated, to do my best to stay informed, and to speak out when I see atrocities. Watching reports from the frontlines from first person accounts on social media and traditional news sources paint a horrific scene where women, children, hospitals, and schools have been the targets of violence.
Last night, we rewatched Anthony Bourdain’s 2013 visit to Jerusalem, the West Bank, and Gaza together, an episode that has stuck with us for the last decade. Hinting at the challenge of telling an unbiased account of the situation there, Bourdain opens the episode with this monologue:
“By the end of this hour, I'll be seen by many as a terrorist sympathizer, a Zionist tool, a self-hating Jew, an apologist for American imperialism, an Orientalist, socialist, a fascist, CIA agent, and worse. So here goes nothing.”
What followed was a nuanced look at life on both sides of the border, with the usual Bourdain eye towards people’s humanity and our species’ shared love of food. At one point, Bourdain visits the restaurant Majda in the Judean hills. It’s a beautiful setting reminiscent of Tuscany, located in an Arab village within Israel. The restaurant sources much of their food from their own garden and is owned by Michal Baranes, who is one of the few Jewish settlers in the village, and Yaakov Barhum, her Muslim husband.
Barhum explains to Bourdain how his marriage and restaurant both seem to work, and it seems to hint at how the region might begin to approach its problems:
“I respect her religion. She respects my religion. And together we can build something for our kids. Our future. That's what we think and that's what we give the message for our customers.”
When reading descriptions of the surprise attack on Israelis by Hamas on October 7, it is gut wrenching to imagine the terror and violence. According to ABC News:
“As those under attack rushed to safe rooms and bomb shelters, groups of terrorists infiltrating the county marched into towns and into kibbutz after kibbutz, opening fire on homes and killing Israeli citizens at random. Militants burst into houses, shooting residents begging for their lives and taking others -- including women, children and the elderly -- hostage, driving the terrified captives back into Gaza as many of them screamed for help.”
After that attack, the Israelis launched retaliatory strikes against Hamas and Palestine which also hit civilians. According to the same ABC News report:
“As of Oct. 14, the death toll in Israel stood at more than 1,300, officials said. Another 3,227 people were injured in Israel…
In Gaza, at least 2,228 people have died and more than 8,740 others have been injured since the retaliatory airstrikes by Israel began, the Palestinian Health Ministry said on Oct. 14. At least 724 of the dead in Gaza are children and 458 are women, the health ministry said.”
People on one side of the divide may see the deaths on the other side as justified, but that perspective is dehumanizing. Regardless of what a government or military group does, the killing of civilians is unacceptable. The people dead on both sides are mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, sons, and daughters. Every human life is precious, even those of political opponents or belonging to a different religion.
I also rewatched an analysis of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict by Trevor Noah when he was hosting The Daily Show. The clip comes from the last time tensions flared in the region about two years ago (when Noah was hosting from home due to COVID protocols) and the way that he describes the history in this region is worth remembering in this time (emphasis added):
“The paradox is that because [the conflict between] Israel and Palestine has been ongoing for so long, people forget that it is ongoing, until there are flare-ups that the world cannot ignore… No matter how much you try to break it down, people will say you’re leaving out some crucial piece of context, and they’re probably right… What makes it even harder is the fact that who’s right and who’s wrong always seems to change, depending on when you start measuring from.”
At this moment, it can be easy and comfortable to retreat into our own lives; to worry about what’s for dinner or what Taylor Swift wore to a football game or whether or not we should upgrade to the latest iPhone. It’s tempting to think that the problems of people on the other side of the globe don't really matter to us.
But when we begin to lose our compassion for what’s happening to other humans, when we choose to look away, when we willfully avoid being informed because the issues are complicated, that’s when true evil can flourish.
If you’ve been feeling helpless or confused or ill-informed during the last week, the best thing that you can do is take some time to start learning. Follow the lead of my wife: read all that you can. Watch videos. Follow the accounts of Israelis and Palestinians who are sharing their daily realities on social media.
Sit with your privilege for a few minutes, that you and your family are not currently in harm’s way. Think of all of those who are not so lucky and how you can use the privilege of your safety to help others.
Try to avoid being drawn into the political discussions about who’s “right” or “wrong,” “justified” or not. Because the truth is, as long as people are dying over this conflict, there is no right side. Christians, Muslims, and Jews may have different names for their sacred texts and different rituals, but they’re all founded on the same basic principles, including prohibiting murder.
Isabel Wilkerson has a beautiful line in her book Caste that has stuck with me since reading it a few weeks ago. The book is an exploration of the American racial caste system, comparing the ongoing racial strife in our country to the caste systems of India and Nazi Germany. But Wilkerson’s distillation of what it means to be human is relevant to all times and all places:
“Even the longest lived of our species spends but a blink of time in the span of human history. How dare anyone cause harm to another soul, curtail their life or life's potential, when our lives are so short to begin with?”
Times like these call for us to all be human. To remember our humanity. And to remember the humanity of those struggling for their lives.
If you’ve missed past issues of this newsletter, they are available to read here.
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It is an exceedingly rare occasion when a newsletter article can bring about such profound emotions for me. This is one of those occasions. Can't thank you enough for this thoughtful and genuine approach to a topic that is so incredibly overwhelming and intense. I will be using this as a guide to get my head out of the sand, and intelligently into this part of the human experience.
I'm glad you are shining a light into the dark places that we want to pretend don't affect us. We are all humans. We need to know what can and does go on outside of our curated world.