Rami Elhanan i Bassam Aramin: "When you know the enemy, you discover that he is exactly like you."

BarcelonaLosing a daughter at the hands of the enemy. This is what brought together Israeli Rami Elhanan (Jerusalem, 1950) and Palestinian Bassam Aramin (Sair, West Bank, 1969). For more than 20 years, they have shared a deep friendship and a firm conviction in the need to work for peace and reconciliation in Palestine through the association The Parents Circle – Families Forum. Rami's daughter, Smadar, was killed in a Palestinian bomb attack in 1997, when she was about to turn 14. And Abir, Bassam's daughter, died after being shot by an Israeli soldier as she left school in 2007. They came to Barcelona to participate in a conversation organized by ICIP and the CCCB. They use Hebrew to communicate and, above all, to express anger with a dry humor typical of brothers: "You have to know the language of the enemy," jokes Aramin, hugging Elhanan.

Since October 2023, has it become more difficult to talk about peace?

— Bassam Aramin: Absolutely. We are facing an unprecedented situation. We are facing a genocide. It's incredible. I would never have imagined such an escalation. But at the same time, it's time to redouble our efforts and raise our voices. When it's difficult, some people get off the train. We are determined to reach the last station. Because this is the only way, the only solution. To sit down and talk among ourselves.

Since Trump came to power, Netanyahu seems to have carte blanche to occupy Gaza. What would you say to people who say that if the Palestinians really want peace, they should surrender?

— Rami Elhanan: Do you know of any cases in history where people who wanted peace surrendered and were allowed to continue living in peace? I don't think you'll find many examples. And it's not about surrender, but about dignity, respect. About the ability to live together. And we're talking about two leaders: one with the mentality of a six-year-old who changes his mind every six minutes, who has no idea what's going on here or what price people are paying. And the other is a war criminal who uses his power to avoid going to prison.

Both agree that the root cause of the problem is Israeli employment.

— BA: Imagine someone occupies your land. There will be resistance. It's not just a matter of Israelis and Palestinians. This is the common enemy: one people occupying another.

So the problem isn't Israel but employment?

— BA: Exactly. Connecting the Israeli occupation with the state of Israel, with Israel's right to exist, is stupid. It's like asking whether Spain or Canada have the right to exist. Of course they do; in fact, they already exist. And they have the right to defend themselves, of course. But no one has the right to occupy another people's land. No one has the right to revenge.

— RE: The situation has become a contest of victims. And both sides blame each other. The occupation is the big elephant in the room, the one everyone avoids looking at. But it's there. It's the reason we lost our daughters. If there had been no jobs, there would have been no resistance and no reason to kill each other.

Can the victim's family be asked to try to understand the enemy's motives?

— RE: To solve the problem, the first thing is to try to figure out what motivates your enemy. Why are they so angry? What could make someone so hopeless that they're willing to lash out at your little girl?

But the first feeling will be anger and frustration. How do you transform this into understanding?

— RE: Yes, it's a tremendous amount of rage. When someone punches you, your response is to punch back. But we're people, not animals. 27 years in, and I still relive it 24 hours a day, 60 seconds every minute. This gives you a nuclear energy, which you can use for revenge, to cause death, or to bring hope and warmth.

Bassam, you spent seven years in an Israeli prison. How did you manage not to hate?

— BA: In prison, I discovered who I am: a Palestinian. And I started reading about Israelis, Jews, their history, and I learned Hebrew. Generally, yes, you hate them. They're your occupier. But I learned that hate was my own enemy. If you only hate, you end up hurting yourself. Enemies, usually, don't have a human face. But when you get to know them, you discover they're exactly like you.

Rami was 47 when he first met a Palestinian. Do Palestinians and Israelis live in separate worlds?

— RE: Yes, in bubbles. They're separated by a huge wall of hatred and fear. And the reason is that, as they're two societies at war, they must prepare the younger generation to sacrifice themselves when the time comes. And the only way to do that is by hiding the other side. By demonizing and dehumanizing it to the point where it's not a problem if an angry Palestinian boy blows himself up at a 14-year-old girl because he doesn't consider her a human being. Or if a young Israeli soldier pulls the trigger in the morning on a 10-year-old girl because he doesn't consider her human.

But you're the counterexample. You could have fought each other, but instead, you're friends.

— RE: I was in the Israeli army. And he was a terrorist. [laughs].

— BA: Rami was lucky he didn't confront me. [Laughs]My contribution to the Palestinian national struggle was spending seven years in prison. That's all. What did I do? Nothing. I made the Palestinian flag. I was part of a group that found grenades and threw them at the Israeli army. No one died, no one was injured. Now I'm limping; I can't run. Therefore, I'm considered a Palestinian hero. To the Israelis, I'm a terrorist. But I've never harmed anyone. If I consider myself a soldier and Rami considers himself a soldier for the other side, then we're tools of this war. So uniting is the only thing we can do. We discovered this when we created Combatants for Peace in 2005. People who hated each other, who had tried to kill each other physically, became friends. Now we're on the same side.

At the trial for his daughter's death, Bassam spoke to the soldier who had killed her. What did he say?

— BA: I told him, "You're not a hero. You didn't kill any enemy. You killed an innocent 10-year-old girl. If you're proud, revel in your crime. I'm not asking for revenge because I don't take revenge on the victims. To me, you're no less a victim than your victim." I think the message resonated with him.

Rami, his wife, Nurit, was a friend of Benjamin Netanyahu, and he called them after his daughter's death. Do you remember that conversation?

— RE: He wanted to talk to me. I didn't want to talk to him. My wife picked up the phone and said, "Bibi, what have you done?" There was a French journalist sitting there, listening to him. The next day, it was on the front page of France's largest newspaper. It was the first time a victim of terror had accused the real cause of the terror. We weren't close friends before, but that was the end of the relationship.

How do you explain why there is so little internal opposition to the war in Israeli society?

— RE: Because Israelis tend to view reality through a very narrow prism. The demonstrations to free the hostages, against Netanyahu, are all about returning to October 6th, to regain the privileges of that time. But the conflict didn't start on October 6th. They don't know what's happening 200 meters from their home, nor do they want to know. The Israeli media covers it up, and they live in a fool's paradise. The few people, like me, who speak out are called traitors. I've been told it's a shame I didn't explode at my daughter. We behave like Nazis. At the end of every meeting I hold, I say I'm the son of a Holocaust survivor. I'm a proud Jew; I have the utmost respect for my people. But I know one thing: ruling, oppressing, and humiliating millions of people for so many years, without any democratic rights, is not Jewish. Period. There's no way to justify it. Israel uses the Holocaust as a tool to justify the unjustifiable.

As?

— RE: We've developed the attitude that we're the only victims on Earth. We send our children to Auschwitz when they're 16, they come back surrounded by a national flag and the motto "Never Again." And a year later we release them at a checkpoint like soldiers. And 18-year-olds have to decide whether that other man approaching them is a terrorist or just a grandfather. It's unbearable. No 18-year-old in the world can make such a decision. The result of this is that you shoot first and ask questions later. Israel was supposed to be a safe place for Jews, and it's ended up being the most dangerous place.

Are the younger generations in Israel and Palestine ready for peace?

— RE: No. [smiles]We need to educate them and give them hope. Since October 7, the gap has widened. The walls are higher, and the anger and humiliation on both sides is unbearable. But I'm not looking at the short term. Look at the long term. Look at the United States and Japan. Look at France and Germany. Look at the Berlin Wall. The Middle Ages weren't easier. The world wars weren't easier. The problem is serious, yes. But we're constantly making progress. It will take time, but it will be resolved.

What is the usual reaction among young people when they go to school?

— BA: When we bring an Israeli and a Palestinian school together, the air trembles. It's like entering an erupting volcano. Most have never seen, with their own eyes, an Israeli and a Palestinian together. Let alone two who don't fight and who call each other brothers. It's an earthquake that creates a crack in the wall of hatred and fear. This is the essence of our work. Even if at the end of the class only one child, Israeli or Palestinian, accepts the message, it's a miracle. It means we've saved a drop of blood.

The debate over military service has been rekindled in Europe. You, who are familiar with the issue, what would you say to European leaders?

— RE: I'd tell them they should know better than we do. You've paid the highest possible price for militarism. Millions of lives in two world wars. Being a soldier may seem like fun. I was a soldier. I enlisted in 1967, when I was 18. There's a reason they take 18-year-olds: they don't think, they act with their guts. But war is a nightmare. Even today, I wake up at night in a cold sweat remembering what happened there. War has a price. The young can forget it, but the old should know better.