This War Isn't Inevitable
On 9/11, we saw horrors we couldn't imagine. It made us feel like there was only one solution: war. As we witness the horrors of Israel, it is easy to feel the same. We would be wrong.
Trigger Warning: This article contains violent imagery related to the situation in Israel.
It’s happening again.
An unimaginable atrocity. A pained, shocked world. The realization that this is only the beginning.
I remember when I noticed that the people were jumping out of windows. They had to choose between being burned alive or plummeting from the top of a skyscraper. They chose to jump.
I remember when a tower fell, and when the shock wore off, we realized we had just watched thousands die. And a worse shock entered our bodies.
I remember the day after. Days after. Shock, numbness, fear. A feeling of helplessness.
But also a feeling of unity. Flags everywhere. Benefits, fundraisers, public shows of support. Commitment to the country and patriotism. And widespread agreement that we had to go to war, that the only answer was not just an all out war on Afghanistan, but a larger, wider war on terror itself.
Yes, the right wing president had been brought into power in what seemed like an openly corrupt way. Yes, liberals in the country saw him as a dangerous fool. And yes, there was an intelligence failure while he was in power that could have prevented the attack.
But in that moment, his Texas swagger felt just right. It portrayed strength in a moment when we were all terrified. And pissed. Beyond pissed.
And so off our soldiers went to Afghanistan. Yes, they’d be headed to war, but the war was righteous and the deaths that would result would be worth it.
A few people were against it, yes. They were seen as cranks at best, traitors most commonly. To say you were against the war at the time felt like a desecration of the lives lost.
“3,000 people died in the most horrific way imaginable: you want us to do nothing? You don’t want us to prevent this from ever happening again? So, you care more about the terrorists’ lives than them?”
So on October 7th, 2001, we went to war.
It turns out that the attack on Israel also happened on October 7th, exactly 22 years later. And at this date, we are only beginning to unravel what once felt so simple and easy, a war that led to another war, that led to two occupations that only recently ended.
Just as then, we are in shock. All of us, anyone even remotely emotionally near to the attack, is feeling the kind of shock that is only felt in these moments where the utter brutality of other humans is so thoroughly revealed. If we are Jewish, with any family or friends who are in Israel, this has been a moment where everyone knows someone affected. Today alone, I heard about a friend who found out her friend’s son is a captive in Gaza and another who lost a son. Opening Facebook is a never-ending stream of tragedy where Israelis are sharing pictures of their family members and asking for any information. They’re missing, and the horror is that while we hope they may have escaped, we all know there is a chance they may be captured or killed.
We try not to think about how they were killed. Many of us have seen the footage of captives being taken with utter terror in their eyes, hundreds running for their lives as they are mowed down, and some have seen much worse.
In 2001, footage was captured from afar. 9/11 was big and horrific, but even the bodies jumping seemed small and far away. In 2023, we see the look in someone’s eyes when they are taken captive. We are there with them.
Similarly, we now see the horror those who celebrate this massacre up close and personal. They are not being filtered by the media gatekeepers of 2001. They are in our newsfeeds and timelines, telling us directly that they are happy about it.
The horror is so complete that it is paralyzing. We are traumatized and, worse, we know that it is likely the trauma is going to be ongoing.
Which is why in Israel and in America, those affected are finding solace in community. We are spending time with loved ones, going to events to show solidarity, and we are looking for ways to help. Benefits, fundraisers, public shows of support.
Understandably, these public shows of support have also translated into patriotism: flags are waving, unity is widespread, and a widespread feeling that the divisions of the past must be temporarily discarded.
Yes, the prime minister is corrupt, and who was on the verge of turning the country authoritarian. Yes, his government is made up of fanatics who have expressed support for genocide and ethnic cleansing. Yes, even without the intelligence failures, much of the blame for the high death toll is on Netanyahu for so investing in further entrenching the occupation of the West Bank that he removed troops from the Gaza border.
But this is a crisis. Not only is it a crisis, it is one connected to the worst attack in Israel ever and the worst attack on Jews since the Holocaust, with a death toll and atrocities similar to worst pogroms in Jewish history.
In fact, the total death toll makes it the second worst death toll of a terror attack of all time, beaten only by 9/11.
And so, of course, the unity we are now seeing has also largely translated into widespread support for the total war that Netanyahu is already beginning. Although this war is being waged by a specific government, made up of specific parties, and headed by a specific prime minister, the feeling of unity has created a feeling that this war is really something larger and truer than them.
And in many ways, having a strong man in power and men who speak the language of war at the helm may even feel useful at the moment to many people.
(Update: An Israeli friend of mine called to point out that although there is a belief in the country that the war is necessary, many Israelis are absolutely disgusted by Netanyahu. A powerful example of the way American Jews are propagandized to support blindly when even in Israel itself the truth is far more complicated).
And so, the converse is also true. If an Israeli or, especially, a Jew in America dares to speak up against the war, they are seen as cranks at best, traitors most commonly. To say you are against the war at the time feels like a desecration of the lives lost.
“1,200 people died in the most horrific way imaginable: you want us to do nothing? You don’t want us to prevent this from ever happening again? So, you care more about the terrorists’ lives than them?”
In the 22 years between the war in Afghanistan and the war in Gaza, much has changed.
Today, you will rarely talk to someone who doesn’t at the very least acknowledge the mistakes made. 176,000 people died, 46,000 of them civilians (more than fifteen 9/11s). And despite what people will say, each one of those lives was as real and valuable as an American life. Almost as many soldiers died in the war as people who died on 9/11. The country became so impossible to leave and was such a quagmire, that president after president punted it to the next one despite widespread support for leaving the country. And although the situation is complicated, at the end of the day the withdrawal was a disaster, with the enemy we waged war on back in charge.
And, of course, the war itself laid the groundwork for the next war, one which was even more tragic: About 300,000 civilians died: one hundred 9/11s. Every single one of those people were as valuable and alive as each one of the people who jumped out of the towers.
It is impossible to know what would or would not have happened without the wars. What we do know is that people are no longer unified as they once were around this. The confidence is gone, and so much of America’s history since has been shaped by our awareness that we got something wrong.
Today, it feels almost sacrilegious to be an engaged Jew in America without supporting the war in Gaza. There are many people who are deeply invested in getting us to feel that the war is itself synonymous with Jewish pride. To speak up is likely to be labeled a traitor by many.
But there are lessons in history, lessons we must hear. Not every war is just, and some are atrocities themselves.
The war has hardly started, and already 900 Gazans are dead. 260 are children. And no, whatever argument made about the density of the cities and Hamas’s tactics does not change the value of those lives.
This is a war where the goals have been laid out openly by the government itself: “The focus is on damage, not on precision." Water, food, medicine, and power are being cut off from Gaza, an attack on the people themselves. And although Netanyahu himself warned the devastation would be so complete that Gazans should leave, the only exit was bombed by Israel itself.
130 hostages are in the hands of Hamas. It is impossible to know what Israel’s plan is, but it is clear that destroying Hamas comes before saving them. 300,000 soldiers have been called up. That’s 3% of the country.
If Israel does win the war, it will then need to decide what to do about the territory it has taken. Indefinite occupation? Annexing? Installing a puppet regime?
These decisions, for now, will be answered by the most far right government in Israel’s history. Genocidal racists are in charge of this war.
We have all seen horrors beyond imagination. If we are Jewish, we are as close to those horrors as one can imagine.
That does not inherently justify the next steps. It does not mean war is inevitable or that the way this war is occurring is predetermined.
It feels as if it is, and that’s why it’s easy to tell those who disagree that they are traitors. And in the face of the horrors we have all seen, it feels almost sacrilegious to express these concerns even if we have them.
But we will not be judged based on what we feel now. We will be judged based on what we do and say now. Sadly, all of this is moving so fast that to be quiet is impossible.
We cannot meet atrocities with atrocities. Not only is it immoral, it is not as practical as it is being made out to be.
The core of the horror we feel now is connected to our very humanity. May we use that experience to see how much more inhumanity could come in the coming months.
Your memories of the time after 9/11 do not track with mine, I wrote up a bit about mine here in 2011: https://obsidianwings.blogs.com/obsidian_wings/2011/09/september-11-iraq-and-the-nature-of-courage.html
In particular, I was never *angry* as you and many others (disproportionately men) describe. As I wrote:
"Anger, to me, is for people who disappoint me, who are worse than I expected -- and since Al-Qaeda had bombed the WTC *before*, I expected them to be pretty bad. I feel horror, yes, but the idea of being angry at them feels like being angry at the tsunami, or at a serial killer. I'm not going to stop such people from being evil, or from trying to do evil, because that's what they *are*."
You might want to think about why you were angry after 9/11, and why you're angry now, and in what way either Al-Qaeda or Hamas could possibly *disappoint* you--or if your anger comes from something else.
Your reaction to 9/11 was *not* "natural" or universal, it was a function of, among other things, the extremely patriarchal Orthodox culture you were part of. The kind that made a Strong Father figure as Bush pretended to be reassuring, while I (for one) found it suspect..
As more evidence comes out of how monstrously negligent Netanyahu's government was to allow this to happen, I have a little hope that a critical mass of Israelis won't fall for the urge to cling to the nearest Authoritarian Daddy. A little hope, but not a really inspiring amount. Patriarchy is a very pervasive drug.