EDITORIAL FROM MAY 26, 2007 EDITION OF THE CHARLESTON GAZETTE
I have had a hard time writing about Israel these days. No, my views on Israel haven't changed. I still see the conflict as one of the legitimate aspirations of the Jewish people to a homeland in their ancestral and historical birthplace against a people with an equally legitimate claim on that land.
The tenor and vitriolic op-ed pieces that have appeared have also given me adequate cause to react with fury. To equate Jews with Nazis, Israel's right of self-defense with "ethnic cleansing," and for anyone to say they "understand" the blowing up of cafes, Passover Seders, and supermarkets, that send hundreds of innocent Jewish children, men, women and the eldery to their death, deserves the sharpest reaction.
But each time I set pen to paper, one lone image continues to appear in my head.
Abdul.
Abdul is a businessman who lives in this area with his wife and two children. He is from Nablus. He is no militant but neither is he anything but passionate about the Palestinian cause or his people.
He and I have been on discussion groups before and were part of a West Virginia State College panel discussion last month. When it was his turn to speak, he spoke with the quiet dignity of a man who has felt the oppression of living under Israeli occupation. Without rage, he spoke eloquently of the brutality he experienced, the middle of the night raids, the interrogation by soldiers, the humiliation he, his family and friends had to endure. His people's desperation is seared into his memory banks.
If all he talked about that night were his painful and no doubt real incidences of hopelessness, it would have caused me to get up and tell of the similar suffering of my people at the hands of Palestinians and the Arab world. But before he sat down, Abdul forever changed how I will speak or write about the Middle East Conflict. He spoke of the people he met in this country who have "turned him around," who have been kind and understanding. And then, he said, that he remembered being called over to the T.V. by his wife to watch the news recently. It was the latest homicide bombing at a Jewish wedding in Israel. On the news, he watched a homemade video of the wedding reception and the subsequent bombing. Abdul in a soft voice, ended his presentation by saying in a sincerity that can not be conveyed on paper or done justice by me: "That saddened me".
"That saddened me." Three words delivered with humanity and in a heartfelt tone. I can't get those words out of my mind. Here is a man who knows pain, who experienced pain and who has lost loved ones in this bitter conflict, and yet he feels the pain of Jews.
"That saddened me." No justification for the bombing. No "yes, it was bad but you must realize the anger of the Palestinians". No attempt to understand the "psychology" as so many " liberal thinkers" try to do. Just three words from a human being who saw the pain of other human beings. In those three words, Abdul did something that few partisans on either side have had the courage to do. He chose to place his lot with the victims.
May Allah bless him, and may Mohammed, peace be upon him, guide his steps and may I be privileged to be referred to one day as Abdul's friend. And if not, let me at least be his disciple.
In these desperate times for both peoples, we see not only a never ending cycle of violence, but a never ending cycle of verbal attacks as well. For Israelis and their supporters, Palestinians are all anti-Semites and their leaders are terrorists. For Palestinian and their supporters, Israelis are all Nazis and their leaders are war criminals. And each side blasts the other with the most hateful choice of words and symbols aimed at inflicting the most emotional pain. Only one side is a victim and the other the oppressor, one view is true and the other is false.
I remember the man who inappropriately and rudely passed out articles during my talk that night. I remember the hurtful comments made by a panelist who chose words of hatred to describe Israel. I remember some of the hostile questions by some members of the audience. Each of those were attempt not to bring peace but to incite, not to convince but to hurt. But the only words that truly hit home to me and have made me think a second time were the beautiful words of Abdul that night: "That saddened me."
I have been involved in writing for the Gazette on the Middle East for 15 years and I have tried to show the justification of a Jewish State. With each column written, some people have equally and forcefully responded with support for the Palestinian and Arab causes. Has any minds been changed? Has Israel become more secure? Has Palestinian aspirations of a homeland been achieved?
The truth is that in the Middle East, both sides are right. There are truth to both sides, legitimacy to both sides. But people won't see that, say that or feel the pain of the other. Abdul does. Love of humanity is more important to him than religion, ideology or any piece of real estate, divinely given or otherwise. He loves his people, he loves his land, but loves humanity more and is saddened when Jews are killed.
There will be no peace in that region until each side is as saddened by the pain of it's enemy as it is of its own. Until people can learn to hold back their justified hatred of the other and say I am saddened when the other is suffering, there can be no peace. When a Jew, however, is pained by the suffering of a Palestinian and a Palestinian is saddened by the loss of any Jew, there will be peace.
Abdul lost his nephew this week in the West Bank. I called him when I found out to express my condolences. I don't know the circumstances of his death nor do I really want to. I just felt that I had to call him to say I'm saddened by his loss.
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