A small house can fit 100 friends: Notes from a talk by Dr. Abuelaish

by Daniela

I was very fortunate to attend a talk by Doctor Izzeldin Abuelaish, a man nominated for the 2009 Nobel Peace Prize. The talk was on Sunday April 26th in a Kehilla Community Synagogue in Oakland, California, which organized this talk together with Americans for Peace Now, and Brit Tzedek V’Shalom. I am grateful to my local interfaith network for learning about it taking place. I figured that I should not miss such a special opportunity to learn from this man. I must say I’ve seen quite a lot of local scenery as I got (almost) hopelessly lost on my 50+ km drive, and had it not been for an African immigrant at a gas station in a beat up part of town who showed me the way, I would not have a story to report.

I am only beginning to learn about Gaza and the conflict, so I actually did not know much about Dr. Abuelaish, however, somehow I knew deep in my heart that I *had* to attend this talk. He spent years working to foster understanding between Israelis and Palestinians, and I wanted to learn about his point of view, as a Palestinian witnessing the tragedy of the conflict on a daily basis. What’s more, an immense personal tragedy, the loss of his three daughters this January in an Israeli attack, did not stop him from continuing his work for peace. I volunteer in a grief-support non-profit, and was also interested how this extraordinary man deals with his grief.

Dr. Abuelaish started his talk with sharing a few slides – showing his daughters, Bisan (20), Mayar (15), and Aya (13); three beautiful girls and excellent students. Then proceeded to show pictures of the destroyed house, of the blood on the ceiling, of the body bags. Some people had tears in their eyes. He showed dreamlike photos from a couple of days before the girls’ death when he took them to the beach. They wrote their names in the sand, and the waves erased the names… but, he said, it was not the waves that killed his three girls. It was the craziness of the conflict that keeps going on.

Dr. Abuelaish works as an obstetrician, specializing in treatment of infertility. He lost his wife last September, and this year, his three daughters. What was his response? He decided to start a foundation to provide health care and education to disadvantaged girls. About his decision, he said (I am paraphrasing the quotes here): “It’s time for women to become decision makers. Educated women will lead… they will not bring about war and conflict.” He spoke of his hope that his loss would be transformed into something useful, but he also expressed hope that “May no other woman have to die to influence the men….” He kept returning to the topic of the importance of women. At some point, he remarked “Maybe women are less selfish than men…” Many times during his talk people broke into an applause.

He talked a bit about his personal hardship, having grown up in the refugee camps of Gaza, but managing to graduate from medical school, reiterating that great things are possible with work and determination. About the power of action, in effecting change, he said: “Willing is not enough; we must act. Whatever action, however small, makes a difference. Evil survives in this world because good people do nothing.” He stressed how important action is – “It’s time for people to lead the leaders.”

The audience was able to ask some questions at the end, and someone asked what should American Jews do. To this, Dr. Abuelaish responded: “Before American Jews, they are human beings and when they defend other human beings, they are defending themselves. “

There was a question about grief and how is Dr. Abuelaish coping with it. He placed a great emphasis on his work and identity as a physician, who needs to focus on the living, on the people who survived (his 17 year old daughter Shadar was seriously injured in the attack), and on his work for change. “You must stand up and do things in memory of people you have lost,” he said. He also mentioned that his faith has been sustaining him.

Another question from the audience was about the right of return to the former homes of the Palestinians. Dr. Abuelaish said that now the situation is severe – people are dying, Gazans need to be rescued before other questions can be considered. He also said that it’s not constructive to be “pro” or “anti” – by choosing a stance, you automatically alienate the other side. You have to strive towards a solution that what works for both sides because all are human beings that deserve to live in peace and dignity.

Some person asked how he manages to commute from Gaza to Israel, and Dr. Abuelaish seemed somewhat amused by the question. He said, the person who asked this question can come with me and try it out (I wish I was the one who asked!). His description of the process triggered a surreal association of jumping through the hoops, but a friend had a more apt association: the enforcement of Jewish sectors in German cities during WWII.

Dr. Abuelaish’s work permit has to be renewed every three months. His entry to Israel needs to be reported 3-4 days ahead. He works in Israel Sunday – Thursday, so each Wednesday or Thursday he needs to report his planned entry for the upcoming Sunday. Crossing the border is a special ordeal: he can drive to the first checkpoint, where they verify his papers. Then he has to walk 1 km on a sandy road to an electronic gate with a camera (and no human being in sight). The door opens automatically. Then there are more gates – he mentioned, in total about 20 gates must be passed to cross over to the Israeli side. Sometimes the soldiers get rude. He described an incident in which a solider asked him not only to take off his jacket, but also his shirt. The doctor refused, and the soldier refused to let him pass through. The doctor asked to see an officer, who managed to settle the dispute. Can you imagine the hassle? It sounds like something from a post apocalyptic movie that you don’t want to see to the end because it’s too depressing. Only it’s happening for real, now.

He spoke a lot of human dignity. “We don’t want to controlled by remote control,” he said, referring to that sci-fi gate in the desert.

With all this hassle, humiliation, pain, loss, and tragedy, I am deeply touched by this man’s determination and humanity. I could not agree with him more when he was talking, towards the end of the evening about what is needed. “A small house can fit 100 friends, he said, but not 2 enemies. We need big hearts and minds.” That, and a lot of work.