After October 7

Reflections

At the start of 2023 I re-committed to journaling in the mornings. When I’m writing I feel more connected and grounded. When I create the space for it, I can enjoy the act and craft of writing. Yesterday I realized that I’d let my journaling go and it felt like time to start again. I opened my journal and was shocked at what I saw. My last journal entry was on October 6. I hadn’t written a word since then. I realized, as I looked at that date, that I’d completely lost my rhythms since October 7. And, I know that I am not alone. Most of the people I am close to could share a similar story. My sister, who is more of a writer than me, told me she’s been writing shopping lists since October 7.

I still can’t find the “best” words for this moment. But I do want to speak—especially to my clients who are not Jewish and for whom October 7 is not the center of their world. To try to share some small sense of this moment in time. The best way I can find to do that is through stories:

Story One: One of my closest friends from high school, Eilon Schwartz, runs a think tank in Tel Aviv. His work is at the intersection of some of the thorniest challenges that Israel faces and brings together people from across political, religious and ethnic spectrums. This week, on a Zoom call about the work that his organization, Shaharit, has been doing to fund grassroots projects in Israel, Eilon told his October 7 story. I learned that on October 6 Eilon went to Ofakim, an Israeli town in the South, to participate in a night of study for the Jewish Holiday of Simchat Torah. The evening was spent at the home of Moshe Ohayon, the chair of his board. Eilon left at 2:30 a.m. to return to Tel Aviv. I’m not sure why he drove home and didn’t spend the night, I don’t know if that was always the plan or a last-minute decision. Within a few hours of his departure, Moshe and his son were dead, victims of the slaughter by Hamas.

Story Two: This week I attended another Zoom call to hear my cousin Agur Schiff, who also lives in Tel Aviv, read from his latest novel—a brutal take-down of colonialism. Agur is on the left—the far left. He is highly critical of the government and an outspoken opponent of the post-1967 occupation. At the end of the call, Agur shared that since October 7 he has essentially been excommunicated by the global literary community. Why? Because he is an Israeli and writes in Hebrew, his mother tongue. I have never fully embraced being a “progressive”—mostly because I am leery of the tendency of progressivism to reduce complexity to binaries. As such, I’m not as surprised by the response of the left as some of my friends and I have nonetheless been horrified by the lack of empathy for the victims of October 7. I feel angry that all Israelis are considered aggressors—especially when so many of the people who were murdered on October 7 were dedicated peace activists.

Story Three: Two nights ago I attended a talk with a leader of a group called “the Faithful Left” who also founded Breaking the Silence, an organization dedicated to enabling Israeli soldiers to speak out about what they have seen and witnessed in the West Bank—specifically around actions of the Israeli army and settlers. The directors of a Jewish-Muslim partnership organization, one Jewish, and one Muslim, were in the audience. The possibility that we could actually see each other was present in the room along with the realization of how hard and, for some, how impossible that is right now.

Story Four: Yesterday I heard the Executive Director of the Jerusalem Youth Choir, a Palestinian who lives in Jerusalem, speak. The project is inspiring and the fact of a Jewish founder and a Palestinian executive director so moving. Amar brought me to tears when he told us that after October 7 all the Israelis he knew (except for those in the choir) questioned whether he supported Hamas. He described feeling his world collapse because of the lack of trust in him and who he was and is. Palestinian Israelis are suffering deeply right now.

I’ll stop there. I hope that these stories paint a picture of how disruptive and dysregulating October 7 has been for those who are deeply connected to the Middle East. It has created a clear before or after, more intense, for many, than even 9/11. My ability to make sense of it at all is elusive, at best. I hold contradictory political views within short periods of time—even minutes. I am never sure if I am right and assume I’m always missing something. I am trying to be okay with the deepest not-knowing I’ve ever experienced. I struggle most with the people who “know” and with those who cannot see that on both sides of this conflict are humans who deserve to be seen in their full humanity. Those are the people I have very little patience for these days. I’m trying to find space for them, as well.

So that’s a tiny window into my world. It’s very similar for most of my close friends and family. We are individually and collectively in a state of shock and confusion. If these words don’t fully cohere—that’s an honest reflection of where I am—where we are.

Resources

Books and Articles

“When in doubt, read” is my rule of thumb for dealing with things that are vexing. So, I’ve been reading and listening constantly since October 7. And, since I consider myself a pretty good curator, I thought that I’d end this post with links to some of the things I have found most helpful. And, while accuracy these days is in itself a slippery thing to try to find, the pieces I’m sharing are at least striving for that:

Simon Sebag Montefiore is a historian and the author of the first article I read after October 7 that I wanted everyone I knew to read. The Decolonization Narrative is False and Dangerous remains one of the best pieces I’ve read for historical context. I also recommend Daniel Sokatch’s Can We Talk About Israel? as an easy-to-read book that provides history and context from a person who simultaneously cares deeply about Israel and is a fierce critic of its policies. Sokatch is the Executive Director of the New Israel Fund, an organization that supports Civil Society Organizations in Israel, many of which are engaged in Jewish and Palestinian partnerships.

I stumbled upon this piece in Medium last week and, again, wanted everyone I knew to read it. Your Empathy is Killing Us is written by an Israeli who has been able to take a step back and recognize that binary partisanship serves no one. It’s a piece that embraces the level of nuance that I believe this moment requires.

Tom Friedman, the New York Times Columnist and deep expert on the Middle East is one of the best people writing about the war and about the different parties to it. Of all his columns, my favorite is this one, The Rescuers—which offers more hope than others that he’s written.

Going back further, I’d recommend a pair of books, the first of which might be my favorite book. Period. A Tale of Love and Darkness is a very personal book and provides profound insight into Israel—especially at the time of its creation. It’s beautifully written by one of Israel’s greatest writers, Amos Oz. Sari Nusseibeh’s Once Upon a Country: A Palestinian Life is a memoir from the same moment in time, from a very different perspective. It’s an excellent companion to Amos Oz.

Podcasts:

Ezra Klein has interviewed people across the spectrum—from fiercely Zionist to fiercely anti-Zionist, Jews, Palestinians, diplomats, politicians. I recommend the whole series, and especially encourage you to listen to this one, with Rabbi Sharon Brous. It’s a beautiful conversation with one of the wisest voices we can be listening to right now.

If you want a window into the world of Israelis during this time period, I highly recommend this interview with Ilana Dayan, an exceptional Israeli journalist. She was interviewed on the Podcast “Unholy: Two Jews and the News” which is an excellent resource generally.

I also recommend the episode of the Daily (NY Times) that explores 1948. It’s an excellent example of bringing multiple perspectives to bear and seeking accuracy.

There’s a lot more I could add, but I’ll stop there and hope that you find some of these resources helpful.

With that, I’ll close this piece and hope that this post is helpful. I’d love to hear what resonates for you and I’m here if you have questions.