Reacting to Israel
by Rafi Josselson
I’m an avid reader of current events. I read the news every day. If I am in the car with any of my grandparents the topic will inevitably turn to the latest happenings. So, when the atrocities of October 7th occurred, I was immediately glued to the screen.
On October 7th, Hamas terrorists invaded Israel. They brutally slaughtered over a thousand Israelis and took hundreds of hostages. It was the morning of Shmini Atzeret and I had slept over at my grandparents’ house. I was looking forward to a day in synagogue. It had been a stressful week and I was looking forward to refocusing myself through prayer (see Tefillah: An Autistic Experience on my website). I was wrong. When I woke up, my grandparents told me to watch the news. “I don’t care about the speaker race this morning. I just want to eat some pancakes and go to shul.” But they insisted. They said something significant just happened in Israel. And then I saw the images. The reports. It was devastating.
My heart was torn out. Having grown up in a strong Jewish community, going to day school since first grade, and being a lifelong Ramahnik, I had a strong connection with Israel. For many American Jews, it is an integral fiber of our identity. Americans were scared in 2001, and now it was Israelis and Jews who were scared. We were reliving the most traumatic events of our history. I was not unaware of the viscous virus of antisemitism but I never thought an action this extreme could occur. Unfortunately, like many Jews for millennia, I was wrong.
The reality is that Jews are all connected. Jewish geography is a favorite icebreaker. Everyone has mutual connections. To me, Jews are one extended family. And to hear of babies beheaded, music festivals terrorized, and kibbutzim devastated, not only draws my natural human outrage but the indignation that one has when one’s own family is attacked.
I still went to the synagogue that morning, while the situation was unfolding and I felt numb – how could I pray? My mind was shell-shocked and I struggled to feel emotion. I wanted to feel emotion but as I would discover in the coming weeks, that was hard to accomplish. I felt devastated but at the same time, detached. It felt like an odd duality. I felt somehow unaffected yet deeply scarred at the same time. I’ve been thinking a lot about why I reacted like that. This has happened to me before, during holocaust remembrance and Yom Hazikaron ceremonies. My sadness is numbed. It is almost as if my brain is fighting my emotions.
I have no idea if this contradiction has to do with my Autism. When I react to stories, my empathy can seem different from the neurotypical one. My empathy is almost calm: this is bad. What can I do to help? But many neurotypical people react strongly to an event with a type of emotional distress that I just can’t process. I am still trying to understand this part of me. I know my reaction is not wrong but different.
For the first few days, the international community condemned Hamas and called for the release of the hostages. This was a moment of solidarity. Over time Israel began to just be a part of the news cycle. It was no longer a shock but now part of our lives. Israel began the counterattack. Friends, family, and my Hebrew teacher were called up from the reserves.
And then the world turned its back and started to attack Israel. Overnight the world forgot about the hostages and started to blame Israel for the events of October 7th. How? When my school newspaper visited Columbia for a journalism conference I realized how far the Overton window had shifted. I saw posters condemning “Zionist Fianceers” and “Israeli Nazis”. Last year I was excited to explore this campus. This year I constantly looked over my shoulder. I was aware of the stares on my kippah-adorned head. I was safe. Luigi, our security guard stayed with the group the whole time. But the idea that we needed a security guard on a college campus worried me even further. Are we sliding back into the 1930s? America is currently a safe haven for Jews; walking around Columbia reminded me that this can change.
Israel is not perfect. Israel should conduct itself humanely and with compassion. I personally believe it has been. But it is undeniable that in war there are innocent lives lost. And unfortunately, no war – in human history has ever been bloodless. I remain torn between compassion for fellow humans and rage towards Hamas. When Israel bombs a hospital it isn’t as black and white as people think: terrorists hide in hospitals and people are treated there. This brings up questions of morality and philosophy that I am unsure of how to address. At its core I know that Israel is a good country. But every government is flawed. The unfortunate thing is many people can’t see past this. Whatever one Israeli official says becomes automatically construed as the opinion of “Israel” and unfortunately Jews. Meanwhile, every person should be ready to condemn Hamas. Gaza will be free once Hamas is gone. All of this is beside the point. I noticed a lot of reactionary statements that made me very disappointed.
Taking all of this in, I decided to focus my attention on humanity. I donated to Magen David Adom. I wrote to friends in Israel. I doubled down on learning Israeli history, opting to take the honors component of my Modern Israeli History course. We need to pay attention to what occurs abroad. But we should remember not to generalize. That is a fight the neurodiversity community has already fought – to remind our neurotypical friends that we are not a monolith. I see the parallel to this conflict. Israelis are not a monolith. Palestinians are not a monolith. Let’s work towards peace. Oseh Shalom was barely regarded until fairly recently and then it took off as a tefillah. My challenge to everyone is to do one act of humanity regarding Israel and Gaza every day. This can be educating yourself, writing a letter, or talking with a friend. Let’s do the hard work!
Rafi Josselson is an autistic junior at the Leffell School in Westchester County. Rafi has spoken at multiple places across the Northeast including; Solomon Schechter Day School of Bergen County, Temple Israel Center, and, the Charles E. Smith Jewish Day School. He also has written blogs for MATAN, for his own website and now for Jewish Disability Inclusion News. Rafi hopes to spread a message of Empathy, Inclusion, Awareness, and, Acceptance through his work. Outside of Autism Advocacy; Rafi is the co-president of his shul’s USY Chapter, a Hartman Teen Fellow, a counselor at Ramah Day Camp in Nyack, a section editor for his school’s newspaper, and, an avid reader of both books and the news.