I readily identify with some of the feelings you expressed eloquently here. Raised in the US Midwest with typically barely-religious Protestant parents (and good and wise ones, I might add), I gravitated to Catholicism in graduate school; then to Buddhism, which I've taken as my "religious" (I prefer to say "ethical") identity since 1975. But among the handful of individuals who've impressed me most deeply with their humanity and humanism have been three or four Jews (coworkers, teachers) and three or four Muslims (doctors, one anonymous woman posting on an Internet forum, an imam I spoke to by phone on 9/11). I don't feel I can take any side 100%, and that makes me feel shaky and ungrounded somehow. Maybe I'm feeling some of what you feel, Marisa. Thank you for giving voice to your painful reaction.
I had the unfortunate timing of injecting my frustration with Israel in relation to Jenin’s plight this summer in the moments before Hamas started their attack.
As an atheist (I prefer “none”) from the Midwest with friends and colleagues of all religions, I have always tried to be a good listener and be respectful.
There are political aspects to the Middle East. We know Iran is involved. We suspect Russia is involved. We know what’s been happening in Jenin and to other Palestinian housing. And we know Hamas is the very darkest part of all of this. I sometimes wonder if Hamas had a nuke, would they use it knowing it would destroy their own land-based objectives.
But outside of all of these political and religious considerations, we have children, women, and families. Many of these people just want a job, a house, a market, a school, and to peacefully congregate with others. They may resent the political conflicts. They may sympathize with the religious sentiments of their more violent neighbors. But if they had a choice, I truly believe they’d want just those basic things.
Murder is murder, regardless of who’s doing it. Until we stop the men that embrace conflict, these horrible few days will continue to repeat.
The U.S. has hundreds of millions of guns and our children are slaughtered and we can’t change either.
It’s so stupid and depressing and the worst people are clamoring for further violence.
Words fail to express the sense of tragedy that I feel. I see no special villains here. My first reaction upon hearing about these attacks on Israel was the terrible certainty that whatever Hamas inflicted on the Israeli population would shortly be inflicted on the Palestinians to a much greater degree. And then, some time later there would be ongoing acts of retribution. Force will never bring security. Retribution will never bring some elusive sense of justice. I agree with the sentiment of Orly Noy that you shared: the recognition of our shared humanity is the one hope that I must cling to. I write as my only means of bearing witness to my fundamental belief that we all share this human essence. Realizing it is our only pathway out of this cycle of vengeance. My candle in the darkness.
I readily identify with some of the feelings you expressed eloquently here. Raised in the US Midwest with typically barely-religious Protestant parents (and good and wise ones, I might add), I gravitated to Catholicism in graduate school; then to Buddhism, which I've taken as my "religious" (I prefer to say "ethical") identity since 1975. But among the handful of individuals who've impressed me most deeply with their humanity and humanism have been three or four Jews (coworkers, teachers) and three or four Muslims (doctors, one anonymous woman posting on an Internet forum, an imam I spoke to by phone on 9/11). I don't feel I can take any side 100%, and that makes me feel shaky and ungrounded somehow. Maybe I'm feeling some of what you feel, Marisa. Thank you for giving voice to your painful reaction.
I had the unfortunate timing of injecting my frustration with Israel in relation to Jenin’s plight this summer in the moments before Hamas started their attack.
As an atheist (I prefer “none”) from the Midwest with friends and colleagues of all religions, I have always tried to be a good listener and be respectful.
There are political aspects to the Middle East. We know Iran is involved. We suspect Russia is involved. We know what’s been happening in Jenin and to other Palestinian housing. And we know Hamas is the very darkest part of all of this. I sometimes wonder if Hamas had a nuke, would they use it knowing it would destroy their own land-based objectives.
But outside of all of these political and religious considerations, we have children, women, and families. Many of these people just want a job, a house, a market, a school, and to peacefully congregate with others. They may resent the political conflicts. They may sympathize with the religious sentiments of their more violent neighbors. But if they had a choice, I truly believe they’d want just those basic things.
Murder is murder, regardless of who’s doing it. Until we stop the men that embrace conflict, these horrible few days will continue to repeat.
The U.S. has hundreds of millions of guns and our children are slaughtered and we can’t change either.
It’s so stupid and depressing and the worst people are clamoring for further violence.
Words fail to express the sense of tragedy that I feel. I see no special villains here. My first reaction upon hearing about these attacks on Israel was the terrible certainty that whatever Hamas inflicted on the Israeli population would shortly be inflicted on the Palestinians to a much greater degree. And then, some time later there would be ongoing acts of retribution. Force will never bring security. Retribution will never bring some elusive sense of justice. I agree with the sentiment of Orly Noy that you shared: the recognition of our shared humanity is the one hope that I must cling to. I write as my only means of bearing witness to my fundamental belief that we all share this human essence. Realizing it is our only pathway out of this cycle of vengeance. My candle in the darkness.