Oh, Gaza...

“Well, let’s just see what’s happening to the Palestinians today,” chirped my father, grabbing the remote this evening. “You don’t want to know, Dad,” I protested lamely, knowing that CNN would have no good news to offer. “Girl, do you think anything is going to surprise me now?” he said, turning to face me. He gave me a look I didn’t quite understand—a look of resignation and exhaustion, as if he had been driven to detach himself from the horrors.

You have to understand where he’s coming from. He was born in a UNRWA refugee camp in Gaza, Palestine in 1960. His family lost everything in the Six Day War and was forced to flee to Saudi Arabia, where they struggled for years to rebuild their lives. He rarely talks about the suffering, degradation, and danger he faced there, but I know he is haunted. There is something in every refugee that is at never at peace, I think.

All I can say about the current crisis in Gaza is, I’m heartbroken about it. I still haven't collected enough information to say anything too specific about the whole thing; the last few days have been very busy for me, and I have regrettably not had the time to follow the situation closely. I have always made it a point to form my opinions based on independent and intellectual research and analysis, not emotional or “cut-and-paste” reactions. Being an idealist, though, I have always hoped to deduce what the moral, logical, realistic solution would be…and, not surprisingly, I have not found one yet.

I could rally on the streets with the thousands of college students worldwide calling for an end to Israel, an immediate ceasefire, and a "Palestine for the Palestinians." As the daughter of a Gazan who feels a strong tie to the suffering people in Palestine, this would be an easy and understandable choice. Logical? Maybe not—even as a half-Palestinian, I can’t say that I believe Hamas has done any good for the Palestinian cause, and the symbolic group has lost whatever legitimacy it had before this conflict. Thus, placing the entire blanket of blame on Israel wouldn't really be rational. There are also a few, very imprudent, very extreme Palestinians who bear a fair share of the responsibility for the Gazan's suffering--and I can't reasonably ignore that.

I understand that many impoverished, frustrated, vulnerable Palestinians saw Hamas’ aggressive approach as their best way out. I understand that many have felt cheated—cheated out of their land, good jobs, a decent education, and their own dignity. I understand that people like this are ripe for exploitation by extremist groups, and I’m sorry that’s what happened. Even my father, whose whole life was thrown off-track by Israeli violence, has called Hamas “a bunch of crazy terrorists.” It is really, really tragic that Hamas has become the symbol of Palestine to the world.

The road to the present conflict is decades long, riddled with many mistakes on all sides. Looking back, I see a hundred opportunities that Palestine (and Israel) missed—a hundred instances where the scenario would have been vastly better than the one my father and I saw on TV last night. To be honest, I can’t fault Israel 100%, no matter what images I see on Al Jazeera. The horrors are real, the dead are gone forever, and yes, I was extremely frustrated when the US blocked a Security Council appeal for ceasefire. All I’m saying is, Hamas WAS firing a lot of rockets, and hey, if I was an Israeli citizen, I would want my government to protect me. Really, like I said, this whole thing is tragic, and the Palestinian people are paying the highest price, no matter how you look at it.

Where do we go from here? That remains the million dollar question. I have not yet formed my own opinion fully—all I can say at this time is, my God, let the aid trucks in!