Co-existing during war

I have a daughter who doesn’t live with me. She lives with her mom, but we make sure to spend quality time together once a week. Most recently, despite being in the middle of a war, we decided to go to one of the shopping malls near Jerusalem. After all, you can’t stay glued to a shelter all day, right?

Looking around at fellow shoppers who like us, braved the threat of rockets to do something normal, I saw secular, religious, young and old people. Most were Jewish but there were also quite a few Arabs. And while it’s not quite newsworthy enough for CNN’s top of the hour headlines, we were all getting along just fine – even in a midst of a war.

Here’s another anecdote. A couple of weeks ago, I spoke with the Arab manager of the special needs hostel where my son lives. On October 7, he was visiting family in Bethlehem, an area controlled by the Palestinian Authority. Then the borders closed without warning and he got stuck. Yet, he still phoned me to check how my son was doing. Later, we chatted about what it was like in Bethlehem and how the situation was compared to what we were experiencing. A few days later, when he’d made it back to the hostel, he caringly told me about how he’d explained to my son what he needed to do if he got caught in a rocket attack while on public transport.

Then there’s the Arab plumber who came to our house to check a leaking drain pipe – also during the war. He was pleasant, patient and professional. As he left, we wished each other the Jewish greeting “besorot tovot,” that we should hear happy tidings.

Sure we don’t all see eye to eye when it comes to politics. Most Arab Israelis will not sing the Israeli national anthem with the same enthusiasm as Jews do (and maybe not at all). When it comes to Holocaust Memorial Day and the Memorial Day for Israel’s fallen soldiers, most don’t join their Jewish neighbours to stand silently as the sirens sound throughout the country. And if you asked me if that bothers me, the answer is a definite, “yes.”

But the bottom line is that Israel is a Jewish country with a slightly more than 20% Arab minority. On the whole, we live together in peace and have similar aspirations. And when the rocket alerts go off, if we’re shopping at the same mall we run to the same shelter. Our country is proof that where there’s mutual respect and a will to co-exist, we can all prosper together.

I don’t pretend to know what the long-term solution is for Gaza. What I do know is that before the Intifada broke out in December 1987, there was an open border between Gaza and Israel, where Israelis and Gazans could travel freely for work, family visits or even leisure. Today, despite the closed border, there remains endless work opportunities here for Gazans who might seek peaceful means to make a living.

As my daughter and I go to the pharmacy, and I have a friendly word with the Arab pharmacist serving me, I know Hamas and their allies have no interest in this amazing society we have built here, because it simply goes against their most basic moral beliefs. Yet ironically, so many in the US, Europe, Australia and elsewhere choose to throw their support behind this hideous organization in the war they started. Those supporters need to know that their actions are perpetuating the misery of everyday Gazans in whose interest they claim to act – and undermining any chance for them to ever live in peace and prosperity.