I deliberated on whether to write this. It seems obvious to me that in times of war we should abstain from things that can demoralise and immobilise. But on reflection I don’t think it does that. As our greatest warrior was also our greatest poet, King David, I think we are a people uniquely constituted to be tough and soulful at the same time. We’ve seen a lot of horrific footage from the massacre perpetuated by Hamas. It is not weakness to have tears - it is holy. God forbid we should become unfeeling, numb bastards that engage in the kind of butchery these Islamic fundamentalists celebrate. They will think it’s a victory that they have caused us pain. They will whoop and halloo and bear their teeth in wicked, wolfish grins to see us suffer and think we are weak. Oh, how pitiful is their blindness to the depths of experience life has to offer. They will never understand we are the people who turn every curse into a blessing and that there is no horror we can’t walk through in utter confidence a better time will come.
So I am going to write this.
At the same time, if we each process an ounce of trauma here and there, we’ll be able to get on with the task in hand - defeating our enemies - whilst keeping our heads in a relatively good enough shape to get the job done.
So I tried to avoid seeing grisly footage from the massacre. I wouldn’t open any videos. I’d squint my eyes and scroll past photos. I thought to myself that I know something horrific has happened - seeing specific imagery is not going to enhance my intellectual or emotional insight. I’d obviously get glimpses of nightmarish forms. Barbecued people. Deformed anatomy of twisted girls. But I wouldn’t focus. They were blurred glimpses of horror I kept in a fog so that I could try to shield myself from trauma. But of course it seeps in. And you inevitably see more than you intended. And you inevitably watch more than you should. In the end I saw the dead bodies. And I saw some of the horrors real people endured.
My grandma died earlier this week and her funeral is tomorrow. I haven’t really been able to connect with my sadness over that because of everything that has happened - the crisis that has demanded action and the saturation of hellish crimes that have accompanied it. I’m just low level pissed off and can’t be bothered with anyone. I just took a shower and started crying as images I’ve seen this week emerged in the mist of my mind. But it wasn’t the imagery of dead bodies. It wasn’t the imagery of corpses. It was the imagery that has really haunted me. More than dead bodies, what has really haunted me were the images of living people experiencing fear. People whose souls were still in their body and who wanted to live. It was their faces. And above all their eyes. There’s one video of teenagers at a music concert huddled in a bunker with shot children groaning on the floor. A young man films with his phone. Why? Instinct? Believing he was going to die and that people must know? To try and make a nightmare less real by watching it through a screen? And then we see his face. I’ve never seen such eyes. I have never seen such eyes. No creature should know such fear. Another video sees a hostage tied up on the floor gazing at his tormentors. And his eyes. The widest eyes that could swallow the stars.
These are eyes I never want to see again. I never want to see those eyes. But they’re inside my head looking at me tonight. I don’t know how to pray, to wish, to magic away their fear. I can’t abide their fear. I can’t abide their fear. For the love of God, fill those eyes with everything they’ve ever dreamed of and everything their family have ever dreamed of for them and turn that fear into a speck so small it is blown away on the wind beyond the ocean and never found again.
I can’t imagine what those eyes were seeing. But in those eyes I could see the swirling fear of every sin that has been committed since Cain killed Abel. These were eyes gazing at every horror that’s taken place under the sun.
My eyes are dripping as I write this. No amount of tears will cleanse away what we have seen.
Oh God, what they did to them. What they did to them.
There has never been a more necessary mission for the Jewish people than to destroy Hamas - and anyone who seeks to hurt us - so that no eyes will ever hold such fear again.
I feel this in every cell of my body
Beautiful. The eyes tell all.
I am so sorry for thé pain these innocent babies, children, women, and men had to endure before they were brutally murdered. I am sorry for thé family members who have to endure life without their loved ones; knowing the torturous pain their loved ones had to endure before they were brutally murdered. I am so proud and at the same time, feel longing sorrow, for the IDF and the fact that many won’t be coming home. I am sorry for a homeland that has never had peace and Israeli and Jewish peoples that have never had to stop defending its peoples and country.