This is one Tammy urged me to write. And she was right to do so.
As awful as things get in Israel – Palestine, I cling to hope. The reason? If my views could change as dramatically as they have, the views of others can as well. And maybe, just maybe, we’re starting to see that happen.
I traveled to Israel in 1995. I was on the plane from Phoenix to New York the moment Yitzhak Rabin was shot. Too late to turn back, I spent six days in Israel with other guests of a pro-Israel charity. Israel was in mourning, as this country was after JFK’s assassination. Yet the people we met welcomed us. And we of course saw only the best Israel had to offer. No West Bank. No Gaza.
I boarded the El Al flight back to New York very much the Zionist. Then, ironically, on the America West trip to Phoenix from New York. I shared a row with West Bank settlers on their way to Los Angeles, who didn’t do much to conceal their radical views, their hatred of Palestinians, and, yes, their near elation over Rabin’s death.
Nothing changed in me immediately, but perhaps seeds of doubt had been sown.
Fast forward twelve years or so.