At twenty-three, I have never known a world without a Jewish homeland. I have never experienced the horrors of persecution and dislocation, nor have I been subject to the existential fear of attack that modern Israelis must face on a day-to-day basis. I’ve spent only three months of my life in Israel—scattered over three trips, without ever feeling quite at home—the food, the culture and the language, all seeming slightly alien to me. Yet spiritually and emotionally, the State of Israel holds a great and meaningful sway over me. As a student of history, Israel impresses me as a remarkable socio-historic nexus, great birthplace of Western religion and ethics, the land of past ancestors and current relatives, and a symbol of redemption, hope, and security after the repeated traumas of European Diaspora.  It is a source of pride and love, a land filled with my tribesmen, so productive and developed, so beautiful and welcoming to all Jews in need. But likewise there is shame. I have always wished some reasonable way to express my frustrations with Israeli policy and pro-Israel zealots, while still asserting Israel’s right to exist in peace and security. The problem has always been so complexly tangled, that I have never quite known where to stand, despite my passion for Israel’s well being. Now I finally know.

In the context of the conflict, each society appears to me like a wounded animal, continually lashing out at the creature shoved up next to it.  These are two very different creatures though, speaking alien tongues. And there can be no proper understanding till one society or the other starts to listen and understand the other. Arab philosopher Edward Said accused the West of a complete and utter incapacity to comprehend “Oriental” culture. I was always struck by the other hopelessness of such a belief.  If it were so, then surely all the fields of anthropology, history, psychology, and sociology would be for naught.  And given my belief in the human mind to comprehend whatever it sets its mind to, Israel as a nation of many advanced intellectuals should be able to recognize in a more complete and meaningful way, the value system and psycho-social belief matrix of the Palestinian people. Given Said’s philosophy though, we must accept that this is a difficult and humbling challenge. Israel must understand Palestinian/Arab/Muslim culture thoroughly and compassionately, then learn to communicate with it in a benevolent way.

I think the common refrain that Arabs only understand force is part of the problem. It is intellectual laziness, and spiritual cowardice to reduce all Arab actions to this assumption. The fact is, Arab civilization is struggling amidst a rapidly evolving world, and at heart, merely wishes to escape its humiliation and regain its dignity. To them, the appearance of domination of the Palestinians by Israel amounts to the continual reopening of an old wound, yet again and again. With each violent retaliation, we prolong not only their suffering, but our own as well. And since we cannot, in remotely good conscience, either dominate or destroy them, we can, through our violence, only cause more violence upon us (holding them further back in the process).  In my eyes, there is only one mutually sustainable solution. Helping the Palestinians build lives meaningful enough to preserve and cherish. To build a society of which they can be proud.

In our global age, the process has already begun. The Arab world will naturally abandon its primitivism and fear of the West as they begin to reap its benefits—but only if we stop trying to impose it on them by force. Only if we let them come to it for themselves. For me, it is out of concern for Israel that I beg its policymakers and people to consider a new way. One that means allowing for pain. My eyes admittedly are only adjusted to the macro, but those amidst the trees need a whole new map of the forest. All Israeli action must be directed towards understanding and mutual gain, or this madness will continue.

At Israel’s sixtieth anniversary, it is my one great hope that we all live to see many more.

Shalom aleichem.