Hatred is a toxic, even fatal, force
I have been known to visit the jewelry store, mostly around The Wife's birthday, and our anniversary when I remember it. Doubly so when I don't. Mostly, I'm a tire kicker, but the jewelry store people always fawn over me because they never know when I've done something at home that needs smoothing over.
One memorable visit a decade ago had an enthusiastic salesperson showing me various gimcracks. One item was a small Star of David pendant on a silver chain. For the record, I am not Jewish. Frankly, nobody has ever looked at me and thought, “Jew.” I'm not sure why this woman thought I was in the market for a Star of David pendant, but what made this incident unforgettable was the clerk's sales pitch.
“Let me show you something cool,” she said while removing the necklace from the display case. “In an emergency, you just pull on the points of the star… (which she did) …and presto!” The Star of David transformed into a line of diamonds. “You never know when it might come in handy.”
No sale, but a forever memory. I grew up with Jews and absorbed their stories. I have an affinity for their culture. I have studied the Holocaust, the pogroms, purges, and diaspora. As a teenager I worked with a camp survivor, his forearm still carrying the tattoo imposed on him against his will when he was a teenager. He never volunteered. I never asked. A great regret. Still, only after that trip to the jewelry store did I fully understand that my path through life has been very different from my Jewish friends. It was the casual way she presented the “secret security feature” on that necklace. My eyes were opened to the reality Jews must consider at the granular level, even when doing something as mundane as deciding what jewelry to wear.
On October 7th, hundreds of Hamas terrorist-kidnapper-murderers stormed into Israel, igniting a war that has killed thousands with many thousands more yet to die. The causes are deep and complex and the solution is way over my head. History is no help. Ordinarily, we look to the past to negotiate the present, with history offering context to point us toward a better future. But history only pours more gas on the fire of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. As the onion is peeled all the way back to antiquity, the rift grows wider. The past is no help when we can't even agree on what happened today.
In case you were wondering, I am also not Palestinian.
I have only a vague notion of what it's like to be part of an unwanted people. The centuries of English oppression, famine and strife that sent my Irish grandmother, a girl of 16, to America 110-years ago has not left a psychic wound on my soul. I don't hate the British. I don't thirst for revenge. The Troubles over there are not my troubles. I can wear my Catholic faith on my sleeve if I choose to without looking over my shoulder.
Muslims living in Gaza do not have to hide their faith. Still, having been expelled from Jordan, shunned by their Arab neighbors, dominated by death cults like Hamas, Hezbollah and others of the same ilk, their history hangs over their heads like the Sword of Damocles. Any Israeli provocation risks an explosion. The Netanyahu government's aggressive movement of Jewish settlers onto contested lands added more powder to an explosive keg. This, among other grievances, are used by Hamas and their supporters as justification for the barbarity the world witnessed on October 7th. To be clear, nothing justifies murder. These horrors are solely the responsibility of Hamas, Iran and their partners in death.
Hate is a toxin more deadly than COVID or anything nature can cook up. And hate is even deadlier when entire nations give themselves over to it. What's happening there can happen here. That should be a wakeup call to all of us.