I confess. The most galling part of watching the Israeli government’s behavior is my deep, deep disappointment. If I were of a mind to experience the emotions in the deepest, darkest, most intense bits of my heart I might be able to describe the depth of the hurt and sadness I feel. In my deepest of hearts it feels very much like a betrayal of beautiful idyllic promise. It’s like watching the savage destruction of a profoundly spiritual piece of art. It’s like someone knows this inspiring masterpiece could bring peace and joy to millions and millions of people and has arbitrarily and cruelly decided to rip this powerful bit of goodness away from them.

Why? What the fuck does it have to do with you, you may ask? The answer is nothing as far as I can tell.

Except there was a time in my life when I was dismayed about what I perceived to be the lack of soul and purpose in life that I had experienced so far. I reaching seeking, mentally exploring the world of ideas and society, looking for something more.

One of the concepts that I encountered, one of the ones that really spoke to my young mind was that of the kibbutz. Oh, how it spoke to me! It wasn’t that I was looking to transform myself into something different, or convert to something that I wasn’t before. Not say that the consequences of swimming against the stream aren’t often uncomfortable because they very much are, but I have always been fairly at peace with being myself. I was looking for better ways to be myself and I craved exposure to these shining example of shared humanity. The idea of forging purposeful community on the edges, the very boundaries of one’s civilization was unbelievably tantalizing. To my romantic eye such an existence looked near mythical in its possibilities.

When I look at the Israeli government’s dealings with its neighbors through the cynical eyes of an adult, no small part of my venom and vitriol stems from that part of my childish heart who petulantly views this self-interest as a betrayal of the images brotherhood and belonging that the new state of Israel used to conjure up for me. ‘You guys could have so cool, and you’re just as bad as anybody else!’ If I were of a mind to experience those emotions, they would sting.

Mixed in with my romantic ideal of creating a new country through the kibbutz there are a few other images. My mother had a copy of Still Small Voices and at around the same time I picked it up and read it. It is quite a read.

I had a friend in school whose parents had been struck dead by opposing forces on the kibbutz where they lived when he was a very small child. The injustice of his loss plays very much into my thinking about the whole situation.

And there is the image seared into my head of little boys facing down tanks, armed with nothing but rocks. The mental picture stops just short of calling David and Goliath to mind, because David won.

Perhaps I am more of a conspiracy theorist than I give myself credit for. Perhaps I have a habit of projecting WWII era propaganda tactics onto modern foreign policy. Perhaps I’m just pissed people can’t get along.

…But I cannot seem to get past my anger at leaders who purposely lead their people into unnecessary violence and hardship. It’s not that I don’t see virulently offensive behavior on both sides, because I very much do. It’s not that I don’t see the aching humanity of the innocent people on both sides, because I very much do. It’s that I don’t see coverage of the Palestinian side in the news. I don’t see the same self-righteous condemnation of both side. It accomplishes nothing but making me feel better to shout at the wind, filling in the gaps and the other side of the story.

But like I said, It has nothing to do with me so what is my opinion except another unheard shouting into the wind?

Sigh…