This Thanksgiving, I'm torn between generations on the Israel-Palestinian conflict

My mother, a Holocaust survivor, is uncharacteristically vehement. In an email to me and my sister, she writes, “(Hamas) murdered civilians, shooting them, beheading and burning their babies, raping women before killing them, much as did the Nazis. They certainly wouldn’t consider whether their victim was a supporter of Palestinians. They committed atrocities gleefully, were apparently proud of their actions.” 

In another email she writes: “I won’t support Jew haters. To me they are the enemy. They won’t care if you are a good person, sympathetic to the Palestinians. And now it is unsafe for Jews in this country. Here we go again!” 

It pains me to imagine what my 86-year-old mother is going through at this time. 

My daughter, 26, a proud Jewish woman and a member of Jewish Voice for Peace – an anti-Zionist organization that speaks of Israel as an apartheid state and claims that the “Holy Land” is committing genocide against the Palestinian people – sends me videos and articles that support JVP’s platform. A Jewish day-school graduate, she says her “dream is one non-denominational state in which all people of all ethnicities and religions can live in peace under the law – a true democracy, not what Israel is now.”

As a grandchild of a Holocaust survivor, my daughter believes that Jews should know better than most people that ghettoizing the Palestinians is unjust. 

Meanwhile, I feel as if I’m being torn apart, caught between these two women I love so deeply and wishing I could overcome my ambivalence. The truth is, I’m not sure what is right. I envy my mother and daughter who are certain about their opposing viewpoints.  

Facing a Thanksgiving table with these wrenching divisions has been agonizing. And I'm sure we won't be the only family gathered around a divided table.

I left Gaza and now can't return.Watching it bleed from afar is a nightmare.

Caught between generations, Israeli and Palestinian sympathies

Before this moment, I stayed outside of the fray. I knew I was opposed to Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s leadership. I believe him to be a crook who panders to the right wing in his country. I think that the settlers are wrong, that Netanyahu’s wrong to let them continue to build on the West Bank.

But as far as the broader conflict's concerned, I was satisfied not to have much of an opinion. I didn’t read the history; I figured it was too complicated for me to understand. Now, I read everything and listen to every interview, trying desperately to understand the conflict, its origins and to decipher right from wrong. 

When I speak to my mother, who has lived the trauma of Nazism, I am swayed in her direction.

But when I talk to my daughter, whose debate skills are far better than mine, I come away feeling that her views make sense.

News coverage from outlets that are pro-Israel make me feel like a monster for even considering the interests of the Palestinians, while left-wing media that portrays the subhuman conditions in which displaced Palestinians are living and dying breaks my heart.

Can both narratives be true? In this age of fake news, how can I judge what is real and what is propaganda? 

Antisemitism is an unending plague:My father, Elie Wiesel, survived Auschwitz. He'd ask these questions about Israel-Hamas war.

It fills me with sadness to know that others in our family and community would vilify my darling girl for her anti-Zionist beliefs. I am afraid to talk about her activities and afraid to share my conflicted emotions. As a Jewish journalist who lived for 25 years in a tight-knit Jewish community, speaking out against Israel has always been risky. These days it is akin to treason.

If I give voice to my doubts about Israel’s ground war, I fear I will be excommunicated. Yet not sharing my misgivings makes me feel like a coward, or worse a bystander.

On social media, all I see are Israeli flags and photos of young Israeli hostages or beautiful young people who have been slaughtered. The young women look like my daughter, brown-haired, brown-eyed beauties. God forbid, it could have been her at that music festival in Israel attacked by Hamas on Oct. 7. I know that if that were the case, I would be sure of my own beliefs. I wouldn’t be thinking about the beautiful brown-haired, brown-eyed Palestinian babies then. 

But thank God, it wasn’t my baby and I am thinking about the Palestinian babies and children.

Jewish students are being vilified.When will our allies stand up to antisemitism?

In a time of Thanksgiving, grieving our divisions

It’s impossible to ignore the devastation in Gaza thanks to the media coverage my daughter shares. In light of that, I marvel at my pro-Israel friends and families’ ability to push those images out of their minds. I know my mother aches for them, but understandably, that is secondary compared with the fear and horror she feels about the Oct. 7 attacks and the growing antisemitism in our country and beyond.

Likewise, my daughter grieves the Israeli lives taken on Oct. 7 and prays for the safe return of the Israeli hostages. She condemns Hamas’ horrific crusade in the strongest possible terms. But she believes that Israel’s oppression of the Palestinian people has led us to this moment. I have to agree that Oct. 7 didn’t come out of nowhere. 

With Thanksgiving around the corner, I worry that our holiday gatherings will be spoiled by our own familial Middle East conflict. Should we have a no-politics rule, seat my mother and my daughter at separate tables?

I think back to previous Thanksgivings when friends told me they had a no-Trump rule at their holiday tables because family members held opposing views about the ex-president. I was smug. Everyone in my family hated Donald Trump, so the only reason to avoid talking about him was because he spoiled our appetites. 

I wonder if the fact that the two women I love are not close makes this situation better or worse. If my mother and daughter were close, perhaps their disagreement about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict would be more painful because it might threaten their relationship. Since they are not close, it just serves as one more thing that separates them. This makes me terribly sad. 

Despite my confusion, there are several things of which I am certain. For one, this war will not end the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Even if Israel succeeds in killing everyone affiliated with Hamas, like weeds they will return and likely in a more invasive form. Two, peace will never come without compromise on both sides of this issue. Three, I believe in a two-state solution.

And finally, all babies are babies and none deserves to be killed whether by beheading or bombing.

I hope we can all agree on that. 

Simone Ellin is a freelance writer based in the Hudson Valley of New York.