Two young female soldiers sit opposite me. I watch them talking and giggling, as young girls do, as young girls should. It is a bittersweet moment as I think of all the young courageous men and women we have lost during this war – the observers, the hostages, the partygoers at the Supernova music festival.
They too, once sat on the train, with their friends, talking, laughing, just being/living. They too, gossiped and deliberated over menial matters, such as what to get for lunch – as they should.
But those killed will never get to have another drink with friends, go to parties, or plan their next meal. They will never dance again. They will never get to walk down the aisle, have children, or a future.
I think of my own teenage years and my personal struggles. My biggest concern back then was an upcoming exam; now it is: whom am I meeting for coffee, and where. I don’t mean to diminish anyone’s struggles; we each have our own personal battles and inner demons. No one’s struggle is “easier” or “harder” than another’s.
Yet suddenly, sitting on this train watching these girls, the fragility of life, even the small moments like taking the train, becomes glaringly apparent, and my daily struggles seem futile.
And then, as I look at their young, beautiful faces, I am filled with anger. How could anyone deem it just to kidnap, rape, and murder 1,200 innocent people, or claim that what happened on October 7, 2023 was “resistance”?
Hypocrisy of condemnation
Or worse – how could they then go and condemn us for defending our nation, for trying to protect our loved ones, and spread their distorted lies and rhetoric to a society who drinks it up thirstily?
What did these young men, women, babies, and the elderly ever do to you? How dare we try to rescue our hostages, our people, who were kidnapped from our land? What would they have done in this situation?
And yet our world has the audacity to decry our nation, the victims of unspeakable pain, suffering, and genocides, for committing “war crimes” – or even crazier – genocide.
The hypocrisy is bewildering.
Which other nation is held at such a high standard? Denounced for retaliating to an attack (and a war) that they did not start and did not want? It would almost be laughable when I think of the world’s unbelievable ignorance and the double standards to which we are held, if not for its repercussions.
Both girls laugh as they watch a TikTok video. I am happy that they can still laugh, yet have no doubt as to the deep wounds they nurse and will likely carry for the rest of their lives.
Watching them laughing, I wonder how Israelis can find joy, even rejoice and celebrate, while our brothers and sisters are suffering. Is this not tactless? Disrespectful?
But then I reframe my perspective: Yes, the victims from the Supernova music festival, the murdered hostages, and fallen soldiers will never dance again. Yet we have the power to continue their legacy by remembering every name, by dancing for them, and by sharing their light. Because if we don’t – who else will? As the mantra goes: We will dance again.
The writer is a copy editor at The Jerusalem Post. She is a native of London now living in Jerusalem.