By the Author / Source: abuaram.site
To my Jewish friends: I have always felt affection toward you and perceived something truly beautiful within your souls. Recently, however, I have noticed that you have become deeply brutal. My approach has always been to seek out the truth and speak it plainly, for I hold truth sacred. My allegiance lies only with truth and justice. I want to tell you that your recent actions and your new system are marked by extreme cruelty, reflecting a deeply barbaric image.
I grew up among you from my earliest childhood. Whenever I overlooked your negative sides, I saw you as good human beings. Throughout my life, I observed you—even though you were deeply racist toward everything Arab. Yet, you never harmed me personally at any point.
To be sure, I do not view every Jewish person in the same light; I genuinely cherish the bond of friendship that connects me to the Jewish people. I have Jewish friends who support me, and I realize there are those among you who respect me, value my intellect and feelings, and understand the giving nature of my soul in our complex world. They have also come to know my life, my place within Palestinian society, and have followed my news there.
What you have done to the people of Gaza is profoundly terrible. I have no personal ties to Gaza, no relatives there, I have never met anyone from Gaza in my life, and I have never set foot in Gaza. Even though I am from the remaining Palestinian territories—from the West Bank—and this Strip is a remaining part of my people, my view of the people of Gaza is fundamentally human. It does not matter to me that they are a distant part of my people; had you done this to any other population on the far side of the globe, I would not tolerate it either. It is a matter of basic human empathy and compassion for any fellow human being. How did you dare to destroy human life in such a manner in that Strip?
My Jewish friends, my heart, mind, and innermost feelings toward you were long filled with love, peace, and admiration. I never viewed you as a hostile or harmful entity; rather, I saw in you a genuine love for life. I saw you vibrant, full of humanity, and possessing many noble qualities.
I used to wish that I would fall in love with a Jewish girl and that she would love me back. However, my psychological and mental condition stands in the way. These women look for a healthy, stable man. Although I consider myself very normal, I suffer from a separate medical condition that constantly strikes blows at me, making it difficult to be fully functional. My life currently revolves around taking medication and drinking alcohol just to stay balanced and in a semi-decent state.
How wonderful it would be to find a beautiful Jewish girl who reciprocates my love! It might grant me immense energy, and perhaps I could become the man she expects me to be. Will my illness prevent her from loving me? Is any human being entirely free from affliction? Does a person suffering from a condition like mine not deserve love simply because of what they endure? Even though I possess a rare and genuine human core, and approach love and emotion naturally, I carry this medical burden that strikes me continuously.
In truth, I barely understand Hebrew; I can read the alphabet and understand the lyrics of songs, but I cannot hold a conversation with native speakers. I simply absorb the spirit of the music and its words. I never had the opportunity to get truly close to a Jewish girl. Yet, I understood everything about the lives of the Jewish families I knew, many of whom understood Arabic.
Love takes root in both the heart and the mind. I managed to love these Jewish people; despite our relative language barrier, I understood their language and the nature of their lives all my life. Even during my life in the West Bank, while my friends would rush to throw stones at IDF vehicles, I never found it in me to be dragged into that or throw a single stone. The behavior of those youths seemed foolish to me every time they spotted IDF patrols in the area.
I feel a profound grief over being barred from entering my homeland across the Israeli border for the past two years due to the Gaza war. I miss my days there deeply. I haven’t been able to see my mother for two years because of this war, and she, in turn, hasn’t seen my children. My son, Adam, who is not yet two years old, hasn’t been seen by her since he was a year old.
I am also overwhelmed with nostalgia for everything there: every drop of love, every street, every neighborhood, and the spirit of warmth that used to prevail. I miss seeing the crashing sea waves, feeling the cool ocean breeze, enjoying quiet, intimate evenings facing that vast sea, and thinking about the possibility of spending a wonderful, drunken evening with friends and beautiful women in the place that has been my homeland since birth.
I am deeply resentful, and I question why I have been deprived of my homeland for so long. I find no logic in these brutal actions and the imposition of such strict restrictions. I want my life back, and I want life restored to the good people among my nation. I demand the return of rights and justice under much-needed wisdom. I say: enough to this injustice; let our lives return to what they once were.
To hell with this entire life over the past two years, and to hell with everything that has happened since this war began. What is happening is deeply evil, unjust, unwise, and an abnormal reaction!
