The Israel-Hamas war is complicated. Can we move beyond choosing sides? | Opinion

For almost four years, I’ve met on Zoom with Ruth, who lives in Connecticut, to discuss, reflect on and apply Jewish texts and spiritual principles to specific character traits such as humility, patience, compassion and fear. This Jewish spiritual practice is called Mussar. The regular meetings with Ruth, the reading and reflection on a specific character trait that is out of balance and a singular concrete action of a Mussar practice provided me with the spiritual, cognitive and behavioral foundation to navigate COVID — and to lean on now.

On Sept. 25, Ruth and I found ourselves discussing Rabbi Sharon Brous of IKAR’s Yom Kippur sermon. Rabbi Brous of IKAR, a Jewish community in Los Angeles that “seeks to inspire people across the religious spectrum,” according to its website, spoke about far-right extremism in Israel’s cabinet and Israel’s expansion through the deadly expulsion of Gazans. She called out Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and Israel’s governmental shift from occupier nation to one of oppressor and warned of ethnic cleansing.

Eleven days later, October 7 happened.

Opinion

A few weeks ago, Ruth said that she hasn’t felt like she’s been able to breathe fully or experience joy in small things and interactions since the “pause” in the Hamas-Israel War. I caught myself holding my breath, too — for months now.

The news, images and loss of innocent life is suffocating. Whether we realize it or not, many of us are carrying the weight of the war in our hearts.

Oct. 7 took the oxygen out of our lives. Now, many of us are left wondering what the future will look like in this unfathomable reality. Uncertainty, fear and a lack of trust are in the air, as is a sense that neighbors are measuring each other up to see what “side” they’re on.

The tension even manifests in how we talk about the war and how we decide to speak out. A colleague referenced the American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC), a Zionist organization, and I gasped, swallowing my air; during the same conversation, another colleague spoke up as “pro-Palestine,” and I felt myself holding my breath. I was unable to respond, the only though I had was, “Why are we breaking down a complicated issue into a narrow narrative with no space in between?”

This binary view and the insistence that it’s not complicated — just one side or the other — feels oppressive. The weight of the binary is smothering, and it serves to crush the other “side.” I wondered why, in each interaction, we hadn’t first established what I hope is our shared pro-peace belief and then continually reaffirmed our shared connection to encourage listening to one another.

Local organizations and municipalities are asked to pass ceasefire resolutions. Meanwhile, neighbors in San Luis Obispo are hurling epithets at each other over safe parking for our unhoused. And it makes me wonder whether we’re all simply struggling to claim some safe space as our own.

In our Mussar practice, Ruth recently asked why we aren’t looking at how our local conflicts and linear view of a complicated issue are a microcosm of the war in Israel and Palestine.

Her comment left me breathless. I had just left a discussion in which sides and battle lines were declared over a local issue. As I walked away, I wondered whether we were really discussing the issue, or whether we were just voicing our underlying beliefs about Jews, Muslims and the Israel-Hamas War.

Can we discuss any issue without the conversation being impacted by what’s happening globally?

For those directly impacted, it might feel like our SLO community doesn’t see or understand the pain Jews and Muslims carry. For a Muslim/Palestinian friend who has lost much of her family in the current war, days are rooted in mourning and just getting through. As her neighbors, are we oblivious to her pain? Or do we see her while holding tight to our own opinions?

To add to the stifling climate, there is another powerful movement that unconditionally supports Israel’s bombing of Palestinian civilians in Gaza and their anticipated expulsion. This group of Christian Zionists, estimated to be 62 million Americans (more than the population of global Jews), is a branch of Evangelical Christianity that believes salvation coincides with the end of the world, when all Jews must return to Israel and play a role in the annihilation of Muslims. They believe the establishment of the state of Israel in 1948 foreshadows the biblical prophecy of the “Second Coming.”

As the non-profit news organization Truthout explained back in May of 2021, “Regard for Palestinian land and life — including Palestinian Christians — is absent from Christian Zionism since Jewish rule over Palestine is key to unlocking the end times.”

Christian Zionism is a growing movement. Its power is seen in the rise of the current far-right speaker of the house, Rep. Mike Johnson, and evident in organizations such as The International Christian Embassy Jerusalem and Christians United for Israel (CUFI), the largest pro-Israel lobby group in the U.S. with more power and members than AIPAC and a big supporter of this war. Recognizing CUFI’s political power and Christian Zionism’s role in the current conflict could be a step toward informing a more comprehensive dialogue.

Naming all the strains of oppression, the history and how each group may have a vested interest in a land that is only two and a half times larger than Los Angeles County requires historical grounding, care and compassion for those with roots in Israel and Palestine.

How can we have those conversations, webinars, teach-ins and informed discussions if there is the underlying, unrecognized belief of many Americans that this is necessary spiritual warfare?

Ruth and I are struggling to sit with all this heaviness and loss. We are called to action and will continue to tell our elected officials that we do not support more military aid for Israel.

Dona Hare Price is a local activist, facilitator of Dismantling Racism From the Inside Out and writer.