December 28, 2008
My sciatica, which has been more or less dormant for the past two and a half years, since the last Lebanon war, is now alive. So a nerve, half the length of my body, sears through me. It is of course connected to the war. Who can watch the agonies of Gaza in peace? But who can allow the alternative? I think of the streets of Gaza I haven’t seen since the seventies, the orchards I visited then, the people with whom I shared meals, the children who played with my own. I think of the writers I’ve met from there in the past few years, a beautiful woman, a tall thin moustached gentleman, and so many others, whose names I dare not mention because they may be punished for meeting me. It is first the individuals who come to mind, and then the population. After that I remember the rockets that have been raining down on the south for eight years.
A few days ago I was asked to join a meeting which was going to be problematic. Since I usually function well as a mediator, and I like all the parties involved, I agreed. Well the fact that I understood both sides didn’t help at all – there was no solution except legal arbitration because there was no real good will on both sides. Good will on both sides, a belief that both sides want to solve a problem. If we had that with Hamas, we’d be fine.
December 29, 2008
You’ve got the war covered from all the different sides. Let me take some different sides. What if I am a man in Sderot whose business has been destroyed over the past few years, and his entire self-image as a man because he can’t control anything that happens to him? And he’s been saying – even on tv – let’s work this thing out with the Hamas so they won’t throw indiscriminate rockets on the population for a while and maybe allow us to open the gates like we did before? What if you’re this man and you start hearing the bombing in Gaza one day and the rockets stop falling on you? You know how awful it is to feel that terror the Gazans are feeling, but a little relief and joy creeps into you. And you remember how terrible you felt whenever the Gszans passed out candies and celebrated when your garage went up in smoke, and you feel like maybe this is the time to pass out candies too. And you are torn.
And what if you are an Arab student from Nazareth studying at Tel Aviv University? Maybe you have Jewish friends, and when you’re at the university it feels almost normal. But you know that one of the guys in your class is a pilot and maybe he missed class yesterday because he was bombing. And maybe you’ve got an exam today and can’t concentrate. But school is going on as usual, except for the demonstration today at 12 at the entrance to the university. Would you be able to take your exam?
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