Two Truths in One Heart
Nuance, listening, and a commitment to peace in the face of unbelievable violence.
We need to start listening to one another.
In the face of a massive tragedy in which over 11,000 people have already died with no end in sight, while polarization mounts and inspires hate crimes across the world, while families lose sight of one another in the vicious arguments for who is right—this is what we need to do. We need to listen. All possibilities for peace hinge upon our ability to do just one thing: hear and see those whom we disagree with.
Over the past week or two, there have been rapidly growing movements to call for a ceasefire in Gaza. Even the US government has recently voiced a desire for Israel to stem their violence. Political will is moving strongly in a particular direction. This is, I believe, the direction of justice as I mentioned in my previous article. Yet...
I don't live near a college myself, though I have heard various reports of rising antisemitism on college campuses. This makes sense to me as academic institutions tend to have a liberal-leaning, anti-colonial stance. Again, I think this is a good thing. Yet, it's not at all surprising to me that angry students in the throes of activist fervor lose sight of the humanity of the people they've defined as the villains. In this case, the Israelis. It's also not surprising that colleges have had to tell Jewish students to avoid the dining halls. It's no wonder, then, that Jews across the US and the world are feeling a familiar fear creep up their spines. We have experienced this before.
The first step of any human-on-human violence is dehumanization. In the book, On Killing, Lt. Colonel Dave Grossman demonstrates that this is the first and most important step in preparing a soldier for any war. It is this dehumanization that likened Jews to parasites during WWII. It is this dehumanization that defines Arab people as terrorists and justifies the mass bombing campaigns. It is also this dehumanization that allows us to insult and demean one another on social media.
Despite the rather misanthropic views of many people who believe human nature is inherently violent—it is actually profoundly unnatural for any of us to cause harm to another human being. For such an action to be possible, we must first devise a story in which that person is no longer human.
Much of what I am seeing and hearing on both sides of the political spectrum regarding events in the Middle East right now cast the situation as a battle between good and evil. Such moralizing and simplifying of such an extraordinarily complex political conflict is not only intellectually lazy, but it actively obscures the reality of the situation. If I define my side as the good side, I will be systematically blinded to the flaws of my own party. If the other side is bad, I will be hyper-sensitive to their flaws. This is basic tribalism. I'm probably not saying anything we don't all already know. Though, are we willing to recognize it in the moment?
I'm going to say two things now. One will probably affirm you in some way. The other will probably piss you off.
One: The state of Israel is not only currently, but has historically been treating the Palestinian people profoundly unjustly, destroying their livelihoods in an ongoing way for many decades. Israel absolutely has participated in creating the conditions for the emergence of Hamas.
Two: The attack on October 7th wasn't at all a helpful response to Gaza's occupation. Whatever suffering Gazans have suffered at the hands of Israel, the October 7th attack was heartbreakingly brutal. Hamas absolutely has participated in creating the conditions for the IDF's bombing campaign.
I'm going to invite you to pause for a moment. Likely, at least one of those statements activated you, because I'm saying here that whatever side of the conflict you support—that they too are contributing to the rising violence. I understand the triggering nature of such a remark, but I really would ask you to be slow here. I'll remind you that I'm not placing blame here. That's not what this is about. However, if we can't recognize our own contributions to conflict, we rob ourselves of the power to invite peace.
Before reading on, let whatever activation that may be here rise and fall in your nervous system. Breathe. Take a moment to look away from the screen and notice the patterns in at least three things around you. Let the anger happen, but don't hold onto it. Take your time and read on when you are ready to hear more. I really want to invite nuance.
Okay, I hope you're with me now. I'll go on.
There's a wonderful book that formed the ideological ground for my work with children in wilderness therapy. This book is called The Anatomy of Peace. This book is an imagined story that presents many ideas that are relevant for all of our lives in navigating conflict. It's not the most well-written, I admit, but I highly recommend reading it.
The story is told, ironically, from the perspective of a Palestinian and an Israeli teaching a class together about how to create peace and resolve conflict. What they teach is simple and profound. I will share only one concept here: collusion cycles.
A collusion cycle is a cycle in which two individuals or two parties are engaged in conflict with one another. It's called a collusion cycle because while on the surface it seems that the two are at odds with each other, there is often a deeper way in which they are secretly cooperating with one another in the maintenance of the conflict. This happens via the stories they tell about one another.
Let's say I'm in a collusion cycle with my partner because I think she is controlling. If I think that she's controlling, I may likely ignore her when she asks me to do something, respond dismissively, or outright refuse to cooperate with her requests of me. If I behave that way, she may respond by thinking that I'm uncaring or selfish. Thus, she will likely become more forceful in her requests so that they come to sound more like demands—thus affirming my view of her as controlling.
I hope you can see what I'm illustrating here. It's as if my partner and I are both in a theatrical performance in which we are cast in particular roles in one another's stories. Actually, I need her to be controlling, because if she's not controlling, then I have no way of justifying my dismissive behavior. So she is wonderfully complying to save me from feeling the actual pain and regret of behaving dismissively towards my partner. Yes, this is a real-life story for me.
Now, I'll first point out that my behavior may be genuinely dismissive, even rude. She may actually be making demands of me. These behaviors may be real, but they are not indicative of our underlying humanity—which judgments like “controlling” or “selfish” would suggest. So both of us, in our own ways, are actually denying one another's humanity in subtle ways. So yes, like Israel and Palestine, we are both accountable for the dynamic between us. This is a painful realization, yet it's also liberating.
The wonderful thing about collusion cycles is that since both people are co-creating them, either party can make a choice to shift it. In the above example, it may take some work and the love of a trusted friend, but I can shift the whole dynamic if I am able to let go of my story of my partner as “controlling,” and choose to see her humanity instead. I may begin to recognize the unmet needs beneath her behavior—the need to be seen, to feel cared for, to feel affirmed—needs that I know intimately well because I share them. Once I actually see her humanity and her needs, instead of just seeing her as controlling, whole new repertoires of behavior may become available to me.
The next time she makes a demand, I may not feel the need to instinctively ignore it but may become curious. I may realize I actually don't mind putting my muddy boots on the porch instead of our entryway. Otherwise, I may realize that I actually don't want to comply with the demand, but still respond with care and compassion for her underlying need. This may not actually change her behavior, but I would have invited an entirely different possibility into our relationship. I would have invited a possibility of peace.
I can't be sure that that peace would manifest in our relationship around this conflict. However one thing I can be sure of is as long as I'm justifying my own behavior and villainizing her for hers, peace is absolutely not going to happen. The minimum it takes for there to be genuine peace in our relationship is for at least one of us to let go of our need to be right and begin to see the humanity of the other.
Of course, many of you see where I'm going here and are understandably cynical. I won't pretend that the circumstances in Israel and Palestine are as simple as a common spousal argument. A partnership is already built on a foundation of mutual care and trust in one another that Israelis and Palestinians rarely have for each other. As well, the violence has escalated to such a point that lives, liberties, and entire lands are at genuine risk. It is commonly understood by both sides that if we laid down our arms, they would kill us all. For both sides, this may be true.
So I want to be clear about what I'm not saying. I'm not saying there is no place for force, militaries, or various means of self-protection. I'm not saying that Gaza should submit itself to Israel's rule. I'm not saying Israel should abandon the 240 hostages in Gaza. I'm not saying I condone the bombing of Gaza or the attack on October 7th. Most of all, I'm not saying either side is right or either side is wrong. I'm also not saying that both sides are equally responsible and I'm not saying not to take sides.
Rather, people should be protecting themselves. We should have opinions. We should voice them, we should argue them, and we should stand for them as well. I believe I've made myself clear where I stand currently.
And...
If we are ever going to have peace—true peace—it cannot come through the things I mentioned above. We cannot create peace through violence. We cannot create peace through argument. Whereas the foundation of war and conflict is the dehumanization of the other, the foundation for peace is the recognition of the humanity of the other.
Right now, that probably looks like listening to each other, especially those we disagree with. I disagree, often fiercely, with people of various political opinions and views. I agree with many who view Israel as a fundamentally violent state. Yet, I also recognize my own hypocrisy in this as I sit in my comfortable house on the land of Native Americans who were deported or killed so I could be here. This recognition humbles me and supports me in avoiding the common pitfall of self-righteousness. My state is also fundamentally violent, and I benefit directly from that.
I also recognize that the state of Israel was founded after the mass genocide and expulsion of Jews from Europe after WWII. I recognize that Israel is a holy land for Jewish people—a land that we believe we are indigenous to.
Well, shit, does that mean two conflicting realities are simultaneously true?
Yes, it does.
How could it be otherwise? Where else could war come from after all?
I said in my previous article that a ceasefire in Gaza is only the first, and perhaps the easiest step to creating real peace in Israel and Palestine. I hope that a ceasefire will happen—the world community seems to be showing more and more support and solidarity for the people in Gaza. Yet, the real work has only just begun.
Recently, I listened to part of a webinar with peace activists from both Israel and Palestine. In it, the Israeli spoke of their program called Roots, which brings Palestinians and Israelis together in dialog. He says it's difficult to get the two groups to recognize one another's common humanity, but that's actually the easier part. The more difficult part is to get them to listen to and accept the truth of one another's identities and stories: that both groups have a legitimate claim and connection to that beautiful land. The goal, he says, of the dialogues is for two truths to be able to live in one heart.
Now is the time for this. If we allow violence and distrust to continue to dominate our discourse, the fighting will only escalate. We know where that goes. Mutually assured destruction is not merely a thing of the past. Right now, humanity faces a challenge of existential proportions.
We must choose peace now. We must choose to find hearts wide enough, soft enough, to hold the truths of all those we encounter.
So voice your perspectives, and fight for your cause. And listen for the truth and the humanity of the people on the other side. As an American Jew who loves the land of Israel and was shown heartbreaking kindness by the Palestinians of the West Bank, I assure you that it can be found if you look.
May we find the courage, compassion, and love to hold the truths of so many in our hearts.
Our collective future may demand that we do.