Silence, Bias, and the Cost of Compassion in the Fog of War
Compassion is not a zero-sum game. While Israel indiscriminately bombards civilians in their homes in its quest to eradicate Hamas, support for Palestinians is often—falsely—perceived as support for Hamas. This dangerous and inaccurate conflation has led to ferocious polarization and eroded the possibility of fair, compassionate, and informed public discourse.
Why does supporting freedom and basic human rights for Palestinians—opposing Israel’s illegal occupation of Gaza and the West Bank—provoke such venomous and irrational backlash? And why do so many governments readily (and rightly) condemn the atrocities committed by Hamas, yet support, through action or silence, the even more brutal and sustained violence committed by the Israeli government?
Since the devastating attacks on Israeli civilians by Hamas on October 7, 2023, the world has watched as Israel unleashed an unrelenting and wildly disproportionate campaign of retaliatory violence against the people of Gaza.
In the days and weeks that followed, I regret that I remained largely silent. I suppressed my instinct to voice my outrage, my sorrow, my disbelief in humanity, for fear of the inevitable backlash from keyboard warriors, internet trolls, and casual acquaintances eager to project moral certainty. In the fog of this emotionally charged climate, rational debate and thoughtful exchange have been replaced by binary thinking, finger-pointing, and an intolerance for nuance.
Although I refrained from posting my own commentary, I did share content from credible news sources, human rights organizations, and international aid agencies—calling on the Israeli government to show restraint and emphasizing the importance of verifying information before it enters the mainstream news cycle. For this, I received several cruel, name-calling messages—including one accusing me of supporting Nazis.
As an emotionally sensitive person, their words affected me. They made me hesitate to share my perspective or raise my voice. But since when did caring about the truth—and about the basic rights and lives of all people, Palestinians and Israelis alike—make one a Nazi?
I remember being stopped by two young Israeli soldiers at one of the many checkpoints in Hebron, in the occupied West Bank. While holding my passport, one of them asked if I was pro-Israel.
“I’m pro-people,” I replied.
“That means you’re pro-Palestine,” the soldier said, before instructing me to turn back. I would not be allowed to pass through.
Compassion in Israel, it seems, is treated as a zero-sum game. Supporting one group is seen as wishing harm on the other. Caring is dangerous.
But I refuse to stay silent any longer. My conscience won’t allow it.
In the words of the late Desmond Tutu: “If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse, and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality.”
I believe myself to be a good person. I care deeply for all people—and for animals—equally. I mourn the deaths of the Israeli civilians killed by Hamas just as I mourn the thousands more innocent Palestinians killed by Israel, and those who continue to be bombarded in their homes each day.
I simply don’t understand how this monstrously disproportionate response by the Israeli government can be justified—let alone actively supported by the U.S., the U.K., and much of the Western world.
Context, it seems, is elusive these days—and too often used, or misused, to excuse violence and oppression. Although I have not personally been to Gaza, I spent several months in the occupied West Bank, where I witnessed firsthand what daily life is like for Palestinians under Israeli military occupation.
Let me be clear: I do not offer this context to justify the actions of Hamas. That violence cannot be justified. But understanding the root causes of violence is essential—and as history has shown, it is the only way we might one day move toward peace.
In 2016, I published a photo essay titled Israel’s War on Nonviolent Resistance in Hebron, which (I hope) illustrates how Israel works to suppress even peaceful forms of protest against its occupation of the West Bank—deemed illegal under international law.
During one nonviolent event organized by Youth Against Settlements in Hebron, Palestinian students gathered near an Israeli checkpoint to paint signs with words of hope and freedom. After a few young boys threw stones toward the checkpoint, Israeli soldiers responded by firing stun grenades and rubber-coated bullets at the children.
As I photographed the scene, I ran toward a building to escape the chaos. One soldier saw me. As I entered the building, he rolled a stun grenade toward me. It exploded at my feet, causing permanent hearing loss in my right ear.
I share this not to center myself, but to highlight the Israeli military’s perpetually disproportionate use of force—and to point out that even when Palestinians attempt peaceful protest, they are often violently punished, or even killed, for doing so.
I’m haunted by the face of the Palestinian child (in the photo above) who was detained by Israeli soldiers simply for riding a bicycle in a restricted part of Hebron. He was released shortly afterward, but the fear and psychological trauma of that unlawful detention will likely stay with him for life.
As John F. Kennedy famously said, “Those who make peaceful revolution impossible make violent revolution inevitable.”
Turning again to Gaza, we must ask ourselves: how would we feel if we were trapped in a small, overcrowded enclave with no escape—under siege by a foreign military force that controls our access to food, water, electricity, and movement? When life becomes unlivable, and peaceful resistance is criminalized, it’s not difficult to see how militant groups can convince people that violence is the only remaining option.
Violence rarely leads to justice. And it seems clear that Hamas has caused grave damage to the cause of Palestinian freedom—likely setting back hopes for peace by many years.
But here is my deepest source of frustration and disbelief: while everyone, including Palestinians, is expected to condemn the actions of Hamas, where is the outrage and condemnation of Israel’s long-standing, systematic, and immeasurably greater violence against Palestinians?
While leaders like U.S. President Donald Trump and British Prime Minister Sir Keir Starmer continue to publicly support Israel’s policies, I ask myself: how can they—and the Western leaders aligned with them—witness footage of children pulled limp from rubble, of mothers cradling the remains of their babies, of starving neighborhoods and shattered hospitals—and still refuse to denounce such acts as crimes against humanity?
As someone guided by a moral compass, I am overwhelmed by grief for the people of Gaza—and enraged by the hypocrisy and lack of compassion toward Palestinians. This nightmare has laid bare the overtly racist policies of Western governments: they condemn the violence of Hamas while supplying the weapons used to inflict far greater violence on innocent Palestinians.
From a humanitarian perspective, Israel’s actions in Gaza are indefensible. To believe that killing thousands of civilians is justified by the goal of “eliminating Hamas” requires a degree of willful naivety reminiscent of the lead-up to the 2003 invasion of Iraq.
From a national security perspective, the policy of collective punishment is deeply flawed. Many of the victims and survivors of this escalation will no doubt seek justice—if not revenge—against those who destroyed their homes and families.
I am no expert, and I don’t pretend to know how this terrible situation can be resolved. But I do know this: history will not look kindly on those who bombed thousands of innocent men, women, and children as they lay sleeping in their beds. Nor will it forgive those who remained silent while it happened.
We have a voice—and a moral duty to use it.
We must resist the instinct to stay silent for comfort’s sake.
Justice demands courage—even when it costs us.
#CeasefireNow
