Israel, Gaza and the quest for a better world
The scene of devastation following Israeli bombardment during the Israel-Hamas war in the Gaza Strip on Tuesday. Credit: AP/Jehad Alshrafi
For my first trip to Israel, my Grandma Ruth took me on a bat mitzvah tour with other 12- and 13-year-olds and their families. It was during the first Intifada and soldiers with machine guns stood on the rooftops. We visited the Western Wall and Yad Vashem, the Holocaust museum, planted trees, and traveled to the top of Masada, a desert fortress symbolic of Israel's identity and the Jewish people's resilience.
There, in the early morning sun, we chanted portions from the Torah, celebrating our Jewish adulthood in our Jewish homeland.
I've thought about that meaningful trip often over the 663 days since Oct. 7, 2023, when Israel was brutally attacked by Hamas, plunging the nation into a prolonged war in Gaza. In the days and weeks that followed, I stood with Israel, condemned Hamas and emphasized that a response was warranted; a return of the hostages necessary.
Shortly after the attack, as antisemitism spread viciously, I questioned where my non-Jewish friends had gone and why they weren't supporting me and other Jews. I wrote then that I felt "Untethered. Unsettled. Unmoored. And terrified."
Nearly 22 months later, that terror and uncertainty has only grown. Now, it's not just about my non-Jewish friends; it's about my Jewish ones too, as once minimal differences have in some cases ruptured. It's about my own struggle, as I wrestle with my increasingly complicated, nuanced perspective and a more tenuous connection to Israel. And it's about a deep fear that the damage is done, that we as Jews are divided in potentially irrevocable ways and that Israel and its government have frayed once unbreakable bonds with those who've stood by it through tough times before — those like me.
On the one hand, I remain a committed Zionist — and that's not a bad word, as Jews have the right to self-determination and Israel is and must continue to be the Jewish state. I place much of the onus for the tragic conditions in Gaza on Hamas. And I condemn appalling, rallying cries like "Globalize the Intifada," which led to horrifying antisemitic violence here, violence large numbers of Americans say was justified or understandable.
At the same time, it's impossible to ignore the troubling leadership and often dreadful decision-making by the Israeli government, led by Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. It's impossible to ignore that our hostages remain in Gaza, either dying or dead, as negotiations have failed, in part due to Netanyahu's politically craven calculus, and that the humanitarian crisis in Gaza continues, unabated. And it's impossible to ignore the images of a destroyed Gaza, where children are starving.
Yes, they are starving. And no one — including Israel — has done enough to help them.
How do I, as a Jew, reconcile those images and that knowledge with my commitment to tikkun olam, or repairing the world — the very Jewish concept that it is all of our responsibility to make the world a better place for everyone?
I don't.
Israel must do more and be better, for the hostages still awaiting a homecoming, for the people of Gaza desperate for help, and for Jews like me who are searching for the place we once knew. Only then can Israel remain a strong, secure and welcoming Jewish state.
Only then can I still call Israel — the country I've loved, where I once stood as a bat mitzvah as my grandmother proudly looked on — my Jewish home.
Columnist Randi F. Marshall's opinions are her own.
Randi Marshall is a member of the Newsday editorial board.
