“Dangerous.”
“Travel apartheid.”
“Genocidal.”
Those were some of the words I heard when I told people I was traveling to Israel, first in January and again in May.
I understood their concerns. I had seen the images of destruction in Gaza and heard Israel repeatedly described as genocidal.
Still, I kept asking myself: What is actually happening?
I didn’t want to form an opinion about an entire country or its people from thousands of miles away, so I decided to see it for myself.
My first trip was through Maccabee Task Force. I visited the sites of the Nova music festival and Kfar Aza, where I saw firsthand how the Oct. 7 massacre shattered countless lives.
What had previously been a headline became tangible: homes, communities and lives that had existed days earlier were gone in a blink of an eye. Bullet holes and collapsed walls remained where people had lived, celebrated and raised families.
Israel is held to an unfair standard when it faces the same challenges and imperfections as every other nation. If an armed group attacked the United States, murdered our civilians, kidnapped our people and declared its intention to do it again, Americans would expect and demand our country to defend us!
Israel is not a genocidal nation. War began in national self-defense following the Oct. 7 massacre.
But if Israel was fighting Hamas, why were so many Palestinian children and families being killed?
I learned about Hamas’ presence in and around civilian areas and infrastructure, allegedly using innocent Palestinians as shields, as reported by The Guardian. The Foundation for Defense of Democracies shares how Hamas repeatedly discouraged Palestinians from following Israeli evacuation instructions. I also learned more about the immense difficulty of fighting an armed group operating in densely populated civilian spaces.
I can mourn Israeli civilians murdered on Oct. 7 and innocent Palestinian civilians killed in the war. I could criticize the policies of the Israeli government without blaming Israeli citizens or Jews around the world for government actions.
One moment during a free afternoon on my second trip to Israel with Hasbara Fellowships will forever be ingrained in my memory.
I visited the Christian Quarter with two Jewish friends I’d made on the trip. At a scarf shop, we struck up a conversation with an older gentleman who sat near the shopkeeper.
The shopkeeper was Muslim and the older gentleman was Jewish. They were close friends.
The shopkeeper invited us to stay for coffee and tea. We all sat together talking about life in Israel and life back in the United States. It wasn’t a peace treaty or a diplomatic summit; it was conversation and warm beverages.
Additional impactful moments during my trip with Hasbara was after meeting and speaking with Israelis whose experiences challenged my assumptions.
Yahya Mahamid, an Arab Israeli, shared that he was raised to see and treat Jews as the enemy. Yet his whole perspective changed after he met one. He later voluntarily joined the Israel Defense Forces to protect the country he calls home.
Shadi Khalloul, an Aramean Christian, spoke about his deep love and connection to Israel.
Rawan Osman, a former Hezbollah supporter, explained that meeting a Jewish person completely pulverized the abhorrent views of her upbringing.
Ella Mor, the aunt of then-three-year-old Avigayil who was taken by Hamas and whose parents were murdered on Oct. 7, shared a deeply painful story of loss, trauma and perseverance.
I saw Israelis who were grieving, afraid, angry, hopeful and politically divided. I met Arab Christians, Muslims, Jews, Druze and Circassians whose experiences reflected Israel’s diversity. Most importantly, I learned about the danger of generalizations and hateful narratives spewed online.
Go to Israel and talk with the people living there. See that country with your own eyes. Only then can you make an informed opinion.