Shared by Nasik Elahi
My Jewish Mother, My Palestinian Father and a Family Torn Apart
A friend of mine has just witnessed the silent death of a little girl in one of Gaza’s frantic emergency rooms. She had no parents beside her, no name to humanise her. She spoke no word and made no plea. Her eyes focused steadily on the ceiling, oblivious to the desperate and heroic efforts around her. And then she was gone – another anonymous body hidden under a white sheet.
Who was she and why did she die? The Gaza story currently circulating on Twitter and Facebook gives two opposing answers. The first labels her a human shield for Hamas, a pawn in their terrorist machinations to undermine Israel’s security, kill its citizens and destroy its international standing. The second calls her a martyr to Israel’s genocide against the Palestinian people, a victim of Zionism’s deliberate disregard for Palestinian lives and the world’s long-standing political immunity to Palestinian suffering.
These viewpoints are as impenetrable as the Iron Domes air defence system. Since the deadly and heart-rending blitz against Gaza began, most Israelis, Palestinians and the watching world have taken shelter under one or the other, blasting away any counter-message that threatens their viewpoint. These have nothing to do with this girl, with the reality of her life, her hopes, her sorrows. Nor do they reflect any of the social or political transformations that would have kept her safe.