By the Author / Source: abuaram.site
I have never felt hatred toward Jews. Since childhood, I viewed them as fellow human beings and believed in the possibility of friendship between us. As a Palestinian, I chose to ignore the rhetoric of hate that many around me were taught from a young age.
I felt that all these teachings and hostile narratives were meaningless—that something about them was fundamentally wrong. We did not have to be enemies; we could be friends. Due to the nature of my life, I frequently visited and stayed within Israeli territory. I often made Jewish friends my age, playing together during our childhood.
I observed the normal, daily life of Jews, away from my reality in the West Bank, where my exposure to the Israeli state was limited to army patrols, border police, law enforcement, military towers, and checkpoints scattered everywhere.
Strangers still, from a young age, I remained unaffected by the pervasive anti-Jewish rhetoric. I was never convinced by the common narratives in my surroundings claiming that they committed crimes and shed blood without reason, or killed out of sheer malice and hatred toward Palestinians. Even then, I understood there had to be a flaw in this perspective, reasoning that there must be underlying security or defensive reasons behind their actions.
The life of Jews inside Israel fascinated me and evoked a sense of warmth. Whenever I compared their reality to my life in the West Bank, I saw them as good people—normal families, beautiful young women, and a welcoming atmosphere where pets like dogs were raised, among other details that contrasted completely with my own experience. These people seemed to me life-loving, humane, and kind-natured, to the extent that I found their way of life far more beautiful than my entire existence in the West Bank.
Twenty-seven years ago, when my father passed away, I was only five years old. My mother had relatives inside Israel, and through them, she began working there cleaning homes to support me and my four siblings, as we had no other source of income. She always brought me along. That was when I began living part of my life there. My mother was careful never to teach us hatred or animosity, nor did anyone else influence me toward hostility.
I was never prepared to belong to any group founded on hate; instead, I longed to seek love, life, and positivity. I strived to find noble meaning in the lives of Jews, far removed from hate speech. Even as a Palestinian born in the West Bank, those hostile ideas remained entirely alien to my reality and worldview. I always knew something was wrong with that mindset and that the essence of life must be built on peace, goodness, and love. I believed I was not obligated to hate anyone.
Ultimately, I was an innocent soul at heart, unwilling to be filled with hatred. My heart and soul vibrated with affection toward sharing life with the Jewish people. Regardless of all adverse circumstances, I loved their way of life and viewed them through a pure human lens, free from malice. I saw them as vibrant human beings who loved life, and I admired their lifestyle far more than my own difficult existence in the West Bank.
Despite the prevalence of hatred, racism, and resentment, a glimmer of hope remains. We can still reconcile and coexist peacefully for a better future for everyone in this land. Love and goodness are the foundation of both inner and outer peace, whereas hatred brings nothing but division and instability.
