What I love about staying with my friends here in Israel is that both are “collectors.” They surround themselves with the most interesting people. Partially because they are caring, curious, and people of conscience. Partially because they – themselves – are thoughtful individuals, whom others want to engage.
Every time I stay with them, I meet their friends and acquaintances. I always walk away humbled by what I learn from my friends and from my friends’ friends.
Today was no exception.
Among the collection of people I met were a tour guide, a CEO of a Jewish non-profit, two who were on temporary leave from reserve duty in the “deep south“ (Gaza), an early childhood educator, an executive assistant to the head of a major Israeli para-governmental agency…along with a gaggle of children.
A dozen conversations occurred. Some, I was directly involved in. Others, I was merely a “fly on the wall,” listening. While the topics ranged from grandchildren to aging parents to weather to cooking, the one that continued to weave its way back to center-stage was the war.
The two on milu’im (reserve duty) did not say much. And I think that is often what happens in war. Both are thoughtful, caring, reflective individuals. They are the type of human beings any of us would want as our soldiers, protecting us. One confirmed and corrected what I had been told earlier in the week: many – their words, “a lot, a lot” – homes in Gaza had caches of arms, tunnels underneath the floors, or tunnels right next door, on the outside. While it doesn’t make the destruction and despair we see and hear in social media and the news any less horrible, it does put it somewhat into perspective. Innocence is a subjective viewpoint…
Which leads to something I heard over and over and over again this past week, and was reaffirmed in listening to the myriad conversations around me. The news we see reported out of the United States is vastly different than the news heard within Israel (and, I am going to guess, within Gaza, as well). There is little focus here on the plight of the Palestinian people in Gaza. Not that people are uncaring or blind. Rather, when your sons and daughters are fighting an enemy combatant…when your family is being held hostage by terrorists…there is little space for anything else. When a wife said, “I have nightmares that the knock on the door will bring the news that my husband has been killed,” I understand how there can only be limited focus.
Conversation circled around the Netanyahu government. By and large, the group I sat with was left-leaning. They had no patience for him or for many of the hard-right in his government. They feel that Bibi has no real plan or exit strategy. One cynical comment suggested he was prolonging the war to stay in power…something echoed by many with whom I have spoken.
And…of course…the focus came back to the hostages. Everyone knows someone either still in Gaza or released earlier. It is a small country and it is not 6-degrees of separation…it is at most 2 or 3. Everyone wants the hostages released. But…and this is the crux of the debate in Israel today…at what cost? Gilad Shalit is an IDF soldier held captive by Hamas for 5 years. When the deal was made for his release (in 2011), it was in exchange for 1,027 Palestinian prisoners held by Israel. One of those prisoners exchanged was Yahya Sinwar, who is the leader of Hamas in Gaza. Sentenced originally to 4 life sentences for the abduction and killing of two IDF soldiers and four Palestinians he considered to be collaborators, it is assumed that he planned, ordered, and coordinated the attack on and murder of the 1200 who died on October 7. And so…the question is: does Israel release thousands of other “Yahya Sinwars” in exchange for 137 hostages? If Sinwar had not been released, would those 1200 still be alive today?
If your brother was being held by terrorists, I am guessing the answer would be easy: release ALL the Palestinians in every Israeli jail if need be…bring my loved one home.
And yet…how many Israelis might die in the future because convicted murderers and terrorists (no, not all, and maybe not even a majority…but without any doubt…dozens if not hundreds who have committed and/or planned unspeakable violence upon Israelis) are released in an exchange.
No…there are not easy answers. And the conversations surrounding me today confirmed that sad fact.
While it is not mine to determine what to do, I have made my own decision: the hostages must come home as soon as possible…at (almost) any cost. Like hundreds of thousands, I am now wearing a set of IDF-style dog tags. They say simply: Ha-lev shelanu shavui b’Aza (our heart is captive in Gaza); Bring them home – now!
Yes, I care about the suffering in Gaza. Yes, I mourn the deaths and injuries within the Palestinian community in Gaza. But, it is hard to hold that truth while holding the truth that my family is being held captive. My capacity for focus is limited. My focus is on my family. I want them back.
This I pray. Today. Tomorrow. Until they are released.
(Picture: the dog tags I wear each day)
The State of Art 