As I stepped into an Israeli airport terminal on New Year’s Eve, my mind raced a mile per minute. Friends had urged me not to travel to the Middle East, and with the announcement of the US embassy moving to Jerusalem and the State Department issuing travel advisories, several family members even joined the chorus. However, the scholarship-based program was still on and I was eager for an adventure.
Over the coming days, I met and befriended Israelis and former military members, heard from high caliber speakers on opposing political sides about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict — many off the record due to their status and the sensitive nature of Middle Eastern politics — and developed a greater understanding of the culture in Israel.
Tel Aviv, in particular, is a technologically-advanced city that resembles life in America’s biggest cities. If you own a smartphone or have had a medical diagnostic image taken, elements of that technology were invented here. Israel’s biggest city — Jerusalem — has also incorporated advanced technologies into everyday life, including a proficient light rail system and a high-speed rail system — the latter being nearly complete.
Israel is a thriving democracy in the Middle East. It has an impressive record of supporting human rights and is a safe country for groups who are often persecuted in nearby regions. Israel doesn’t pretend to be perfect, but it has a strong moral compass.
While border areas like Gaza and the West Bank are more dangerous — with a mine exploding on a bordering hillside as our group toured the area — Israel itself is secure. In Jerusalem, while it’s not unusual for soldiers to join you on public transportation, or to see a military presence on street corners, that presence simply ensures peace and safety. Even while exploring Old City Jerusalem at night, I felt safe.
Perhaps the greatest misconception is that all Israelis and Palestinians hate each other. Nothing could be further from the truth. Many live side by side. In fact, a former member of the military expressed love for her friends of different ethnicities and religions — describing the situation as a political one that doesn’t involve most people.
In a Jewish community near Gaza, an Israeli woman named Chen shared how she taught her 18-year-old son — who was joining the IDF — to love all people. She added that the majority of Arabs — like Israelis — simply want their kids to have a “good life with WiFi, chocolate, rock concerts...”, etc.
Israelis are resilient and speak about the atrocities committed against their people with a grace and forgiveness that is incomprehensible. While at the Holocaust museum, I was moved by how truly awful this history is. An exhibit displayed countless shoes from Holocaust victims, with the museum’s Hall of Names connecting faces to names to honor those lost. In the Children's Memorial, the lives of 1.5 million children were represented by countless flickering lights along a darkened corridor. I imagined their lives and bright futures — stolen by hate. As I exited, I couldn’t help but weep for the Jewish people’s loss.
Today, we have a defining moment in America. We have allowed hate to enter into our democracy — hate for an opposing political party, hate for minorities, hate for people who are different, and a general lack of empathy. We have groups marching in our cities spreading the lie of white supremacy. More than ever, we need to look deep inside and discover love once more. For me, that love is the true essence of faith. If we look to the Middle East, we can find guidance from an untold love story. Ordinary people — whose countries are constantly at war — find ways to show love to each another. Shouldn’t we do the same?