To the editor:

On Monday, student activists gathered to mourn the deaths of those who lost their lives in Gaza (“Students Host ‘Dead-In’ To Commemorate Gaza Victims,” Sept. 29, 2014). Monday’s demonstration was not so much a recitation of statistics as a human cry on behalf of the suffering. So many lives are affected by the Israel-Gaza conflict. However, as we search for a way forward in the aftermath of this war, death should not be used as political capital.

This summer’s headlines, full of violence and discord, revealed the human toll of sustained and growing global conflicts. While my focus on the myriad issues facing humanity may flow with headlines, as an American Jew, my interests in the welfare of Israel are constant. For my friends who have committed their hearts and minds to the important cause of Palestinian rights and freedoms, I imagine the same holds true.

This summer was devastating for those of us seeking a peaceful future. During the 50-day Israel-Gaza conflict, the acting government of the Gaza Strip, Hamas, fired more than 4,000 rockets indiscriminately into Israel. Israeli air and ground actions not only exposed the extent of Hamas’ militarization of Gaza but also resulted in considerable Palestinian civilian casualties.

The vocabulary of this conflict has an enormous effect on how we perceive both war and the prospect of peace in the Middle East. In the case of Monday’s event, The Crimson reported that students “read the names and ages of the men, women and children who died in Israeli-Palestinian crossfire,” language that highlights the fact that the intrinsic chaos of a multi-faceted conflict has tragic and unintended consequences.

In contrast, the Palestine Solidarity Committee, which organized the event, claimed to have read the “names of over 2,000 Palestinians massacred by Israel this past summer” in its Facebook post describing the event. The choice of the word “massacred” suggests malicious, deliberate, and one-sided action from a hell-bent, demonic aggressor seeking to annihilate the innocent. The use of such vocabulary establishes a dangerous precedent of depriving Israel—a country of remarkable intellectual, ethnic, and spiritual diversity—of its most human qualities. When this is the rhetoric, it becomes increasingly difficult to view the citizens of Israel as human beings that share with many Palestinians their yearning for a peaceful future.

I will always stand firmly behind an Israel that is committed to security and peace. Times of war may test my ideals and my patience, but it is important for me, and for all of us, to remember that in Israeli and Palestinian policy, nearly every debate has existential implications for those most immediately affected. When the political left in Israel calls on the right wing to cease settlement development in the West Bank, this is rooted in a conviction that instead of security, continued and growing occupation will result in an intensified conflict that ultimately endangers the State of Israel. Conversely, the political right in Israel expresses the fear that a truly autonomous Palestinian state may not be able to fend off radical Islam, allowing organizations like Hamas and ISIS to encroach freely on the Israeli people.

Whatever astuteness and sensitivity we may have, Americans are not accustomed to such stakes in political discourse. Whatever decisions our politicians make and however we regard them, we do not generally fear that our country, or our people, may no longer be there in the morning. From a distance, Jews in Israel seem increasingly to be regarded as a local ethnic majority mishandling their responsibility for upholding the rights of a Palestinian minority. We cannot begin to facilitate peace until we learn to appreciate that most Israeli Jews see themselves as a tiny minority in a predominantly Muslim and historically hostile greater Middle East.

As is the case with many public demonstrations, Monday’s event elicits an emotional response at the expense of a more thoughtful opportunity for dialogue. My sincere prayer—a prayer that I feel hopeful is shared with the organizers of Monday’s event—is for us to begin a conversation rather than end one.

 

David F. Sackstein ’14