Tomorrow is my last day of the Peace Building Leadership Seminar (PLS), the open dialogue about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict that happens weekly in my program. I have many mixed feelings going into the last session: I am frustrated with the dialogue within the group, annoyed at myself for the times that I did not speak up, sad that I may not have this type of opportunity again, relieved that I may not feel the same level of discomfort but also wary knowing that some of my discomfort and thoughts from the semester will linger with me my whole life.
As I have said in past posts, I heard many disconcerting anti-Israel, and sometimes anti-Semitic, statements this semester. I learned not to expect empathy to be a two-way street. You can try to understand someone and put yourself in their shoes, but you cannot expect or demand that others have the same level of effort, readiness, or openness. I learned that I cannot put people into boxes; people are complex. In some cases, I remained friends with people even if I disagreed with their politics. I also learned that words can be twisted based on different peoples’ perspectives and agendas. There is no clear-cut definition of terms like peace, terrorism, and brainwashing; a terrorist on one side can be a hero to the other side. The different interpretation and use of words is scary and leaves me wanting to discard these general terms.
The debate over the merits of open space versus safe space has been lingering with me throughout the semester. This debate is a hot topic on college campuses, and I felt removed from it when I was in school. However, at the Arava Institute, the theme of open space is something the Institute touts openly and loudly. Here is supposed to be a space that you can share anything about the conflict, hold any type of views, and be yourself. The community of about 50 people from around the world is expected to understand this diversity in opinion and personality and even celebrate it.
However, I think the concept of a supportive open space is very naïve and can at times be harmful to individuals. Like I said before, the same effort, readiness, or openness cannot be expected from everyone. Just because you have an open forum to express yourself does not mean that your views will be welcomed within the group. I saw plenty of times in the PLS session when people expressed very personal stories or feelings, and they were instantly attacked by someone else. To make matters worse, when you live with the same group of people in a remote community for four months, you cannot escape the aftermath of something hurtful that you heard someone express. When you hold a view that is not the majority view, you can feel ostracized from the group at times, which is difficult in such close quarters.
Another unintended consequence of a supportive open space in a closed community is that it can encourage people with minority-held views to stay silent in order to feel more comfortable within the larger group setting and avoid being ostracized. I have had many private conversations with people, especially Israelis, who have expressed personal views to me that they never mentioned within the PLS setting. In some cases, they never once spoke in PLS. Being defensive or feeling attacked is not everyone’s cup of tea.
This leads to two very unhealthy decisions within PLS: speak up knowing you could be attacked or burn up inside from your silence. This is not the way forward to peace. We cannot work collaboratively towards peace without mutual respect and mutual effort toward empathy. Respect and empathy are good values to aspire for, but unfortunately, the community this semester was not ready for the challenge. I hope other groups will find a way to bridge the gap and that my experience in PLS will not be the status quo at Arava Institute in the future.
A little rainbow of hope (after the desert storm)