Blasphemy
22nd November 2002, 14:21
my friend's mother died yesterday in a terrorist attack on a bus in jerusalem. since then, i have had some disturbing thoughts on the matter...
dozens of times i have read about terrorist attacks all over israel and watched reports about these attacks in the news. when you watch these news reports, you are appalled by the death and destruction, and a shiver is sent down your spine. but when you turn the TV off, the casualties and the wounded go away. they stay inside the television set. and so, after a few minutes, you forget about them and go about your daily business. but what we forget is all the people behind the faces you see on the news and in the paper. all the people who are their friends and family. people who are not mentioned in the news, but they have their lives ruiend by these horrible attacks.
yesterday, for the first time in my life, terrorism didn't stay inside the tv. it came out of there, and into the hallways in my school, where dozens of people were sitting, crying, and praying for the life of my friend's mother. even people who didn't know her, and people who were not close friends with him ached and cried. the sheer thought of this young guy, having to go to the morgue to identify the body of his dead mother was too much for everybody to handle. and when we heard her name called in the news, when she was announced dead, everybody just broke down. it was the most horrible feeling.
but when i got up, i saw that many people in the school were not crying. they were not upset. they heard about this attack on the radio, and kept going with their lives. and i was angry at these people. how can they go on with their lives when a kid has to go to the morgue? how can they not care? how can they continue laughing and having fun? i was so mad at these people. but then it hit me: i did the exact same thing dozens of times before. i kept going with my life when dozens of people were killed in attacks. and i was mad at myslef. mad for having fun when parents buried their children, or when children buried their parents.
we read about all the people who die in the most tragic way, and we continue living, despite the fact that lives have been destroyed, and other people are incapable of continue living. they can't fact the suffering they have to go through. but i don't think about these people, maybe because over 600 citizens from my country were murdered, and 2000 of my neighboors. i think that the terrible daily routine in israel has caused people to treat death too lightly. people don't stop and think about these attacks in the personal plane - about the victims' friends and relatives. we treat these people as statistics, a political pawn in our evelasting quest for peace. i think it is quite sad.
dozens of times i have read about terrorist attacks all over israel and watched reports about these attacks in the news. when you watch these news reports, you are appalled by the death and destruction, and a shiver is sent down your spine. but when you turn the TV off, the casualties and the wounded go away. they stay inside the television set. and so, after a few minutes, you forget about them and go about your daily business. but what we forget is all the people behind the faces you see on the news and in the paper. all the people who are their friends and family. people who are not mentioned in the news, but they have their lives ruiend by these horrible attacks.
yesterday, for the first time in my life, terrorism didn't stay inside the tv. it came out of there, and into the hallways in my school, where dozens of people were sitting, crying, and praying for the life of my friend's mother. even people who didn't know her, and people who were not close friends with him ached and cried. the sheer thought of this young guy, having to go to the morgue to identify the body of his dead mother was too much for everybody to handle. and when we heard her name called in the news, when she was announced dead, everybody just broke down. it was the most horrible feeling.
but when i got up, i saw that many people in the school were not crying. they were not upset. they heard about this attack on the radio, and kept going with their lives. and i was angry at these people. how can they go on with their lives when a kid has to go to the morgue? how can they not care? how can they continue laughing and having fun? i was so mad at these people. but then it hit me: i did the exact same thing dozens of times before. i kept going with my life when dozens of people were killed in attacks. and i was mad at myslef. mad for having fun when parents buried their children, or when children buried their parents.
we read about all the people who die in the most tragic way, and we continue living, despite the fact that lives have been destroyed, and other people are incapable of continue living. they can't fact the suffering they have to go through. but i don't think about these people, maybe because over 600 citizens from my country were murdered, and 2000 of my neighboors. i think that the terrible daily routine in israel has caused people to treat death too lightly. people don't stop and think about these attacks in the personal plane - about the victims' friends and relatives. we treat these people as statistics, a political pawn in our evelasting quest for peace. i think it is quite sad.