Israel, Palestine and Trauma

An advantage of following the Israel and Palestine conflict over decades – I’m old enough to remember the 1956 Suez Crisis, the June 1967 (Six Day) War, the October (Yom Kippur War), the 1982 Israeli “incursion” into Lebanon, and successive, smaller battles, and in the past have been to Israel and the West Bank, even Southern Lebanon – is that I’ve heard all the arguments by both sides, seen how they’ve morphed and faded and been resurrected. And I’ve read a few books on the subject along the way. Anyway, this is my knowledge base.

As I write this, the Israel-Hamas war rages on, demonstrations occur around the world, and undeniable hardship and horror comes to a lot of people.

But this is not strictly a column about war, and I pivoted from current events reporting to psychology and mental health issues in this Substack several months ago. Today I cover both, because we are at an intersection of front-page news and important behavioral and mental health issues.

Part of the story should be obvious: children are seeing people around them die without knowing why or what they can do about it, and they are learning to fear for their lives for the first time … in their lives. They are seeing trusted adults around them also dying, also fearing for their lives, possibly a more shocking discovery for children to make. On October 7 these statements would have mostly applied to Israeli children, since then more so to Palestinian children. It’s called trauma and can last a lifetime.

I’m following the news of demonstrations around the world – a mix of protests in America, mostly pro-Palestinian in the rest of the world. People have their sympathies. It’s part of what makes us human. We care about others, and sometimes we care more about some people than others. In many cases, it’s a matter of kinship, other times political perspectives. There is nothing emotionally or politically wrong with expressing those sympathies at a time like this for, if not now, when? Being pro-Palestinian does not automatically mean pro-terror or pro-theocracy, and pro-Israeli does not automatically mean pro-bombing campaigns or pro-expansionism. It may lead to that, but it’s not the same thing. Being an independent, impartial observer – if that is possible – means listening to all sides.

But for too many people, it’s just a time to hate. Hate seems to always need an excuse, and it’s a useful tool when going into battle, when it really will be kill or be killed, I suppose. A lot of people around the world are hating on America and Israel very broadly, many in the West hating on Hamas, though not Palestinians generally. When is hate justified? I’d like to say never, but I may be naïve. All rational thought is closed off when the hate “light” goes on, as it were, and it does seem sometimes that the hate comes first, then alleged basis for hate later. I know I’ve seen this on a personal level and it’s shocking to be face-to-face with real hate. One does not reason with a person filled with hate; it will just be seen as another trick. Unfortunately, hate is all around us – not every person, not every day – but not far from the present, either. But is hate situational, that is, temporary and related only to certain events and circumstances, or does it define the person? That’s a hard one to answer. I know I’ve said things in anger to people that I really don’t ordinarily feel, and I’ve tried to excuse some people, some of the time, who seem to have spoken in anger without thinking through what they are saying. But the kind of hate I’m thinking of is far deeper and more dramatic than just a few angry words, and one category should not be confused with the other, yet often is.

I’ve read a book by well-known neurologist and biologist Robert Sapolsky, and recently heard him on a psychology podcast. His big theory is that there is no such thing as free will – it doesn’t exist, he argues – but that anything and everything we are is a result of antecedents and causes over which we had no control, including our own responses to all the challenges we may have had in life in the past. Similarly, if we worked hard and overcame challenges, then it was only because we were fortunate to be constituted that way by the totality of our genetic makeup, circumstances in life and past experiences, going back to the beginning of time, even before we were born. (After all, none of us created the universe; it created us, seems to be his argument. Likewise, if we fall into a great depression, or turned to a life of larceny and crime, even murder, it’s only because of everything that had happened to us up to and including the point at which we may have made the fateful decision. Sapolsky really believes this, and he’s not alone among some intellectuals. Maybe he’s just predetermined to believe such a thing and can’t help himself (and many of us are predetermined not to believe such a thing, that is, if he’s right). Sapolsky might as well be saying we’re all computer programs who only think we’re alive; in fact, I think he’s saying the equivalent of this.

Nonetheless, every reasonable person knows there is some truth to what Sapolsky writes and says. The statistical evidence is clear that people living in poverty are more likely to commit violent crime. And people born into a high socioeconomic status family and community are more likely to go to Harvard or Stanford than poorer folk and find success in life that way. And people leaving under oppressive political regimes are more likely to revolt, at least in time – they would be risking their lives, so it’s not easy.

But even the above is not entirely clear. Many people born in poverty do not turn to crime, but go on to live good lives, and some people of privilege do turn to serious white-collar crime, and anyone is a potential sexual predator, regardless of personal background – just look at R. Kelly and Jeffrey Epstein. So, statistical arguments have their built-in limitations.

What we do learn from sociology and psychology and political science, even from Sapolsky, is that we shouldn’t be quick to judge, that the dichotomy between good and evil is not always simple.

Or, judge not lest ye be judged.