No Normal Circumstances

By Sarah Stern 

As I coast up Galilee hills on my away to Tzfat, an Israeli city known to my community as a refuge of Jewish mysticism, I receive a news update on my iPhone that suspends the magic. It’s almost Shabbat, and Haaretz news is reporting a significant shooting at a pub located in the heart of Tel Aviv, the city that I just drove away from. I had celebrated New Year’s Eve in Tel Aviv the night before (it’s the only place in Israel that likes to party enough to notably recognize the secular New Year). Now it’s New Year’s Day, and there are two Israelis dead and seven wounded at Simta bar. Arriving In Tzfat, no one references the attack, but Orthodox men in black hats don’t miss a chance to remind us that we have our own Jewish new year.

I receive more updates on my phone throughout the weekend. I make sure to read them hidden in the bathroom or under my covers, since my hosts are religious Jews who don’t use electricity on Shabbat. I learn the name of the suspect: Nashat Melhem. He’s a 19-year old Palestinian Arab Citizen of Israel. He fled the scene that Friday and the police launched a massive manhunt. They arrested Nashat’s family members and targeted the greater Palestinian “family,” anyone from the Palestinian Arab community in the area. Following the event, police armed with M-16s entered and overturned the apartments of Palestinian Citizens of Israel, refusing to provide a warrant or explanation. Those being searched were not treated like citizens – they were treated like the enemy, like Palestinians.

But these enemies don’t live behind checkpoints – they live in the Tel Aviv University dorms and in Tel Aviv itself. Indeed, a large sector, almost 20% of Israeli society, are Palestinian Arab. In a Jewish state, they struggle to overcome adversity, both micro and military. Many have thrived, and have bolstered both personal and political freedoms. Notably, there is Haifa, a mixed city in Israel with a uniquely Palestinian subculture. Another example is the last national election in which the Palestinian Arab community elected significant leadership and successfully formed the third largest party in Knesset. This minority is vibrant, and it’s making statements.

For some, this shooting is a rude reminder of the limits for Palestinian Arab citizens in Israel. For me, this event stirs both an immediate fear of a roaming shooter targeting Jews and a deeper fear for this country. The attack shows us that without a political solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, there is no comfortable way to be Palestinian in Israel. By treating “Arabs” as threats, the police are forcefully proving that Palestinian Arabs citizens cannot be Israeli, even under normal circumstances. Sadly, if we continue this way, it means that Palestinian Arab citizens and Jewish Israelis will be destined to exist together, in Israel, in perpetual and irreconcilable fear – of each other.