Firsthand Perspectives from the Israel-Hamas War

Contributed

In a recent trip to Israel and the West Bank, Jeff Bloodworth along with his colleague and friend, discuss the Israel-Hamas war from the ground as they examine the seemingly hopeless, no-win scenario that has developed amidst an ever-climbing body count.

Rabbi Hanan thinks the Israel-Hamas War results from a soul problem. He told me, "Israelis and Palestinians are sick in the heart. It is the hubris of exclusivity. The other people don't exist."

Rabbi Hanan Schlesinger lives in Palestine's West Bank where he runs Roots, an organization dedicated to Israeli-Palestinian coexistence. His Palestinian counterpart, Noor A'wad, explained that through Roots he learned it is possible, "to keep your [Palestinian] identity while also recognizing the other side."

But for most Israelis and Palestinians this uneasy dance of the heart has never been more difficult.

On Oct. 7, 2023, Hamas attacked southern Israel's rural, agricultural kibbutzim. Militants butchered 1,200, including the elderly and toddlers; they sexually assaulted scores of women before dragging 251 Israelis back to Gaza and into captivity.

The Israeli response was to unleash 70,000 tons of bombs, dropping more armaments on Gaza than Dresden, Hamburg, and London combined during World War II. What began as a defensible war to remove Hamas has devolved into a grinding campaign of collective punishment on all Gazans.

Dr. Baher Ghosheh, professor emeritus of Middle Eastern Studies at PennWest-Edinboro and scholar-in-residence at the Jefferson Educational Society, told me the Israeli airstrikes have "destroyed every school, every church, and every mosque" in Gaza. In June, I went to the Gaza border. The bombs and artillery shook the desert. I felt ill.

Later, an American described her experience of that scene to me. She seemed vaguely "thrilled" by the drama of it all.

Israelis and Palestinians are not the only ones "sick in the heart."

To date 2,874 Israelis and 35,091 Gazans have been killed in the 10-month war — but for the pro-Israel and pro-Palestinian camps, only one body count matters; there is only one narrative. Rabbi Hanan reminded me, "If you only know one story of this land then you are living a falsehood."

Reem al-Misky knows the Palestinian side. The holistic therapist and Erie resident's family hails from Syria. There, her parents, a physician and midwife, engaged closely with Palestinians. In the war's first weeks, al-Misky lost a friend in Gaza — Hiba, an artist. Hiba's last social media post was of herself in a bird cage with a dove. Reem is rightfully furious.

She calls Israel a "Zionist, apartheid regime." I see her point. But reality is more complicated. As my friend Alon Benach puts it, "You can say we [Jews] belong differently to the Middle East."

Jews have lived continuously in Palestine/Israel for 3,500 years. After the 1st century AD, most were driven outside their "promised land." But the final words of the traditional Seder, "next year in Jerusalem," captures how Judaism ties its people to "Eretz Yisrael." In the 1890s, Zionists responded to centuries of Christian antisemitism, with a movement for a Jewish state in their ancestral land.

Before Oct. 7, Alon agreed with Reem. An Israeli who called himself a "non-Zionist Jew," he left Israel for Poland. But Europe's pro-Hamas protests changed him. Weeks ago, protestors outside Krakow's Jewish Community Center chanted, "Zionists go home."

Alon interpreted these marches to me, "You don't want us in Palestine. You don't want us in Europe. You seem like you don't want us to exist. Jew die." Antisemitism turned Alon into a Zionist. The story is much the same for many 20th century Jews.

Driven by antisemitism, Zionism gained force. By the 1930s, 400,000 Jews lived alongside 800,000 Palestinians in Israel/Palestine. By 1948, the Holocaust had converted most surviving Jews into ardent Zionists.

Rabbi Rob Morais explained this to me. The leader of Erie's Temple Anshe Hesed is the son and grandson of Holocaust survivors. His family learned from history, "Don't think you are safe." Centuries before the Holocaust, antisemitism drove his family from Spain to Italian ghettos before they were pushed to Turkey and finally North Africa. After the Holocaust, the family settled in Canada. There his grandmother warned him "Canada is a great place to live. We love it here. But have your passport ready." She kept three loaves of bread in the freezer, just in case.

In 1948, Zionism resulted in a Jewish state. Palestine was to be divided in half to create a Jewish and Palestinian state. Palestinians were understandably angry. Europeans had masterminded the Holocaust, yet it was Palestinians who paid the price. Zionism might be liberation for Jews, but it was al-Nakba (the disaster) for Palestinians. Arabs attacked. Israel's victory made Zionism into a political reality. But the war created hundreds of thousands of Palestinian refugees.

Today, there are more than 8 million descendants of those Palestinians. They live in Israel, the West Bank, Gaza, and in various Arab and Western nations. Many seek a "right to return" to what are now Israeli lands. But in so doing, Palestinians would outnumber Jews in what is the world's only Jewish state. For Israelis, that is a non-starter.

Rabbi Hanan told me, "I should not live in the land of Israel at the expense of the Palestinian people. That is evil. That is wrong." He wants peace, as does Noor. But many Palestinians refuse to recognize Israel's right to exist. Many Israelis respond by denying Palestinian peoplehood.

Through the years, Reem, and her sisters, all healthcare professionals, have traveled to Lebanon to treat Palestinian refugees. Denied a right to return to their homes and basic dignity in every Arab nation except Jordan, they long for what every human wants — a better life.

Since 1948, Arab states have battled Israel. The 1967 War resulted in Israel capturing the West Bank and Gaza. This is home to millions of Palestinians. In the 1990s, the Oslo Peace Process very nearly resulted in a Palestinian state in the West Bank and Gaza. But Palestinian and Israeli radicals killed this plan.

What Palestinians call the West Bank is Judea and Samaria to Israel's ultra-orthodox. They deem this land holy. In 2000, there were 80,000 Jewish West Bank "settlers." After the peace process failed, more than a million "settled" there.

For academics, the West Bank "occupation" is complicated. But for Jiries Giacaman it is simple: the Israelis are choking Palestinian life. The owner of an olive wood factory in Bethlehem, his family has lost 90 percent of their olive groves to Israeli land grabs. Since the war, security checkpoints have turned his wife's 6-kilometer commute to Jerusalem into a 2-hour marathon. Of Giacaman's 45 high school classmates, he is the last man standing. Palestinians with means leave. He told me, "The big problem is that my kids felt they belonged more in Texas than here. It is freer in Texas (for a Palestinian). Life is getting harder." Gritting his teeth, he confessed, "My grandkids won't stay here."

This pile of rubble in the West Bank was intentionally bulldozed to this spot to block a key road, a tactic used by Israeli forces to "humiliate Palestinians," and which serve to turn would-be short trips into long, arduous treks. Photo: Contributed

In this darkness, Dr. Andrew Caswell gives me hope.

A colleague and close friend, Caswell traveled to Israel and the West Bank with me. The Gannon University psychology professor deems himself "pro-Palestinian." That stance has not changed. In the West Bank, he saw a bulldozed pile of rubble blocking a road. An Israeli gambit intended to humiliate Palestinians, Caswell said "It felt like a giant middle finger." We climbed the roadblock. Nearby, a Palestinian girl did the same, laughing as she did so, but this is no game. For Palestinians, roadblocks turn short trips into grueling ordeals. Frustrated, Caswell said, "one of these days, the little girl will see the rubble for what it is. That is the day her childhood ends."

While in Israel, Caswell met with American and Israeli Jews. He told me, "I now understand something from someone else's perspective. That is easy to say but hard to do." He heard stories about historic and contemporary antisemitism. He acknowledged, "The denial of Jewish peoplehood is something I was surprised by." But he is quick to say, "I have not massively flip-flopped. I am not turning into [Pennsylvania's pro-Israel Senator] Fetterman."

Ultimately, Caswell agrees with Rabbi Hanan and Noor. He said, "They [Palestinians and Israelis] both think their grievances are legitimate. When everyone has their own information, you don't see anyone else's perspective. Then you don't see their suffering as legitimate." Despairing, he explained "I'm pessimistic because I don't see any brave leaders."

Dr. Ghosheh agrees. He told me, "You need visionary leadership" because "Both [sides] are captives of their radicals." To him, a few minor border adjustments could create a two-state solution and peace.

That path is blocked by a "From the River to the Sea" mentality. Rabbi Hanan and Noor defined this as endemic on both sides. They told me, "All of us live in the hubris that one another will leave." In this scenario, Israel/Palestine, from the Jordan River to the Mediterranean Sea, will belong to either the Israelis or Palestinians. Rabbi Hanan counsels against this zero-sum thinking, "Palestinians and Israelis — each have no other place to go. We will live with one another until the end of time. Either killing each other or living in peace."

Jeff Bloodworth is a professor of American political history at Gannon University. You can follow him on Twitter/X @jhueybloodworth or reach him at bloodwor003@gannon.edu