Tag Archives: Israel-Palestine

Are we safer, now that Huda Al-Sosi is dead?

Are we, Israeli and Diaspora Jews, safer now that Huda Al-Sosi is dead? Do we sleep more easily, feel more secure on the street, less wary at work, worry less about our children’s futures, now that she is dead? She “was killed in an Israeli air strike on Oct. 23 which also took the lives of relatives. The status of her two children is unconfirmed,” according to the tribute to her on the We are Not Numbers website. Huda had not yet had a chance to contribute to the project which “tells the stories behind the numbers of Palestinians in the news and advocates for their human rights.” Now more than ever it’s vital to cherish the personhood of those, Palestinian, Israeli and others, who are being killed in this horrendous war, the Black Shabbat and the War on Gaza. “Every person has a name” goes the Hebrew song that is used on memorial days for soldiers and the Holocaust. Her name was Huda. Her colleagues describe Huda as ” a beacon of strength and kindness,” having “a way of lighting up any room with her infectious energy and her radiant smile.” I imagine myself back in my days of university teaching. Would I enjoy Huda being a student in my class? I think so, very much.

Maybe that’s not good enough though. In this time of turmoil and tension, perhaps some readers will insist that Huda’s “love of Palestine” and determination “to reveal to the world the stories and struggles of those living in the shadow of the Israeli occupation” mean she was a propagandist, an enemy of we Jews. She loved her country; is that wrong? Don’t you? Perhaps some readers will doubt the good standing of the organisations behind the project, Nonviolence International and the Euro-Mediterranean Human Rights Monitor because they are too Palestinian. Maybe I should have picked a better example, whose innocence could not be challenged. Here, then, is Reevana al-Hussain, a one year-old also killed in an Israeli airstrike. Nothing else is written about her on the Instagram post, but I saw a news clip of a despairing father crying at a bomb site somewhere in Gaza that his one year old daughter had been killed. When did she have time to become Hamas, he lamented. When indeed.

But we are safer, we’re told, not because Huda and Reevana are dead, but because they were “collateral damage” in the targeting of Hamas terrorists, who use the Palestinians civilian population as human shields. So, are, Israeli and Diaspora Jews, safer because Ibrahim Biari, a target of some of the intense, deadly and destructive bombing in Jabalia, is dead? He is said to have been responsible for some of the horrific Hamas attacks on October 7th, so he won’t be doing any more of that. But how many more Ibrahim’s will there be? Weren’t we told that we’d be safer after Hamas founder and leader Sheikh Yassin was assassinated in 2004, followed by his deputy Abdel Aziz al-Rantisi later the same year? And weren’t we told we would be safer after Yahya Ayyash, the Hamas “Engineer” who made the bombs for a series of horrendous suicide attacks from 1993-95, sabotaging the Oslo peace process, was killed in January 1996? No, his death was followed by four suicide bombings that killed seventy-eight Israelis in February and March 1996, undermining the authority of Shimon Peres as the successor of Yitzhak Rabin, the Israeli Prime Minister at the time of Oslo who was assassinated by a Jewish religious terrorist in November 1995. Netanyahu was elected in stead of Peres. There has not been another Rabin, another Israeli leader with the trust of enough Israelis to lead the country to peace.

None of the killing has made us safer, not in Israel-Palestine or in the Diaspora. Antisemitism always spikes when one of these wars happen, and this time even more so. Here in the UK, the official representative body of the organised community, the Board of Deputies, put out A GUIDE FOR JEWISH EMPLOYEES NAVIGATING WORKPLACE ISSUES ARISING FROM THE WAR IN ISRAEL. There’s some sound advice about addressing harassment, victimisation and discrimination. But when it comes to “How to handle difficult conversations” the guide offers Israeli hasbara talking points. The key point should be that Jews in the UK should not be held responsible for the actions of the Israeli government and military, just as Muslims in the UK are not responsible for the actions of Hamas. One is antisemitism, the other is Islamophobia. Instead, the Board of Deputies encourages UK Jews to make our safety dependent on defending what are almost certainly indefensible war crimes, if not genocide.

It cuts both ways, of course. Are Palestinians in Gaza, in the West Bank, in pre-1967 Israel, in the diaspora, safer because Hayim Katsman is dead? Hayim was an academic, someone I would have liked to meet as a colleague, who had also been active with Machsom Watch, given testimony to Breaking the Silence and (as I have done occasionally) spent time accompanying Palestinian farmers in the South Hebron Hills to protect them from settler and soldier harassment. No, Palestinians are not safer. Palestinians citizens of Israel are no closer to equality; Palestinians in the Occupied Territories are no longer closer to freedom, to independence; and Diaspora Palestinians are no closer to justice, to fulfilling their right of return.

Photo:  Hannah Wacholder Katsman

No, none of us are safer because of all the killing. And none of us will be safer if more Hudas, Reevanas and Hayims are killed, with whatever justifications. There must be an immediate ceasefire. It’s being called for in Israel, especially by those for whom freeing the hostages is the highest priority. It’s being called for by progressive Jews in the Diaspora, such as the anti-occupation group in which I’m active, Na’amod. The call for a ceasefire is also heard at the many solidarity protests with Palestinians. Because a ceasefire is what is needed now, I joined one of those protests in my home city, Nottingham. It was not always comfortable for me, and I did not join in all the chants. But what is my discomfort when the alternative to a ceasefire is more Hudas, Reevanas and Hayims?

Protestors against the war in Tel Aviv, October 28 2023. Photo: Oren Ziv

Let’s not seek revenge for our eyes

Shimshon called to the Lord, and said, O Lord God, remember me, I pray thee, and strengthen me, I pray thee, only this once, O God, that I may be avenged on the Pelishtim for one of my two eyes (Judges 16:28)

Gustav Dore, The Death of Samson, 1866.

The urge for vengeance is strong. The number of dead, injured and taken hostage keeps rising, at 800 fatalities and 2,400 wounded as I write this. Many still missing, corpses yet to be found, or snatched away as prisoners of Hamas, or adrift in the confusion. Yesterday I learned of the first bereavement of someone I know, a respected academic in the field of Israel Studies. His daughter and son-in-law were shot to death as they sheltered from rockets in their mammad, their reinforced room, protecting their son with their bodies. He survived but is seriously wounded. One of 800 heart-breaking stories, which will touch every Israeli family, leaving a scar in their memories and hearts. Someone must pay for this pain.

The scale of this atrocity is too large to contain. I recall the Ma’alot massacre in which Palestinian terrorists entered Israel from Lebanon in May 1974 and took more than 100 children hostage at a school for two days. It ended with 31 Israeli fatalities, most of them being killed as Israeli troops tried to rescue them. Maybe if the mass shooting by Hamas at the Supernova music festival had been the extent of their assault, I could conceive of something eight times as bad as Ma’alot. But to imagine twenty five Ma’alot massacres in one day, that’s more than I can process.

So when I hear and see on Israeli TV and radio politicians and so-called security experts calling for Gaza to be flattened, for Hamas to be wiped out, voices I normally can’t bear to hear, something visceral moves through me. Yes, they hurt us badly, so we should crush them. They think they can slaughter us and not pay the price, not face the consequences? We’ll wipe them out for this. They are guilty of awful brutality and heinous acts of cruelty, slaughtering the innocent. We have the right to unleash all our armed might against them.

A ball of fire and smoke rise from an explosion on a Palestinian apartment tower following an Israeli air strike in Gaza City, Saturday, Oct. 7, 2023. Detroit News, 9 October 2023.

But where does it spring from, this emotion that grips my body with a fiery energy, pictures the annihilation of others and revels in vengeance? As did so many others, I thought back to 6 October 1973, to the fear I felt as a twelve-year old boy on Yom Kippur in Heaton Park Synagogue as whispers began to circulate about the surprise attack by Egypt and Syria. The shock of 7 October 2023 was as sharp as fifty years earlier. Although this time there was not a moment when I thought Israel might be wiped off the face of the earth, the words I have used previously to describe 1973 serve well in the face of the 25 Ma’alots in one day: “The terror of impending individual annihilation is compounded doubly. First, by a fear that in killing the individuals, the collectivity will also be extinguished and second, by a dread that this surely must not be happening, that now we are strong and able to defend ourselves, so if we are attacked, we will vanquish our foes.”

Consuming anger fuels vengeance but beneath the rage is the deep fear, the existential fear, the terror that is triggered by terrorism. Revenge is based in the fear of annihilation, the fear of my death, of all our deaths. It has been said that on 7 October more Jews were killed than on any other day since the Holocaust. Recounting the horror that Hamas brought to Kibbutz Be’eri, where more then 100 Israelis were murdered, Uri Ben Tzvi felt he was hiding like Anne Frank as the Kishinev pogrom happened around him. How could it be that with a state, with the strongest military in the Middle East, we are hurled back to the terrifying powerlessness we thought we had left behind?

There is another anger too, anger at the Israeli government and military establishment for being unprepared. How come the immensely resourced intelligence services did not see this coming? Why were there not enough troops around Gaza to prevent these pogroms? Why did it take so long for help to reach the villages and towns in the area? As in 1973, there must be an inquiry into the fatal failure of the state to provide a safe refuge for its citizens. But the failure runs deeper, down to the strategic failure of the “conflict management” model according to which the blockade on Gaza has continued for years and horrific episodes of armed violence in which thousands of civilians have died have been considered a price worth paying. Now we are paying the price of not having a strategy to end the conflict by making peace. We are paying the price of perpetual war.

Vengeance also carries a heavy cost. Who will pay that price? The flattening of Gaza, the elimination of Hamas, is a fantasy of rage that directs the excess of emotion onto faceless others, masked Hamas murderers. But I don’t want my nephew, called up for reserve duty to be sent into Gaza to perpetrate revenge. As his mother, my sister does, I am “Hoping he and his friends stay safe, don’t see anyone get hurt and don’t have to hurt anyone.” I don’t want my niece’s husband. called up to a tank unit to exact revenge in a ground invasion. I just want him home with his one year old son and my niece. If I cannot wish it on them, the ones dear to me, I cannot actually wish on anyone to be the perpetrator or victim of revenge.

When Shimshon (Samson) called on God for the strength to avenge at least one of his gouged eyes he was also in great pain, reduced to powerlessness by Delilah’s betrayal and taken hostage by the Philistines, then the mortal enemies of the Children of Israel. I cannot imagine the absolute dread in which “our eyes,” in Hebrew parlance the ones we love the most, who have been abducted by Hamas are going through. But I want them to come home, healthy and whole. All that Shimshon could do with his vengeful strength was to bring the house down on himself and his captors, killing more of Israel’s enemies than he had killed in the rest of his life as he also killed himself. But what if the question is not how should we die, how should we send our children, siblings, nephews and nieces to kill and be killed, but how should we live?

How should we live? To live, we will have to let others live too, the others who share this land between the river and the sea. The rage and fear that lead to vengeance leave us eyeless, blind to the humanity of the Palestinians who we reduce to the perpetrators of Hamas’ inhumane acts of brutality. Blind to the injustices, violence and oppression that we have perpetrated on the Palestinians, none of which justify what Hamas have done in any way. As Orly Noy wrote: “I keep reminding myself that ignoring this context is giving up a piece of my own humanity. Because violence devoid of any context leads to only one possible response: revenge.” We need to open eyes to what is uncomfortable to see if we are not to be condemned to avenge our eyes and bring the house down on ourselves as well as others. We also need to open our eyes and our imagination to the alternative to revenge that Hagai Matar could see even in the dark hours as the horror unfolded: “an end of apartheid, occupation, and siege, and promote a future based on justice and equality for all of us. It is not in spite of the horror that we have to change course — it is exactly because of it.”

So, let’s not seek revenge for our eyes like Shimshon. Let us instead find the way to live in peace and justice.