"I wish children didn't die. I wish they could be temporarily lifted to the skies until the war ends. And then they could return home safely, and when their parents ask them, 'Where were you?' They would say, 'We were playing in the clouds."

Palestinian poet Gassan Kanafani (1936-1972)

The Title combines the name of God الله יהוה in both Arabic and Hebrew, has no pronunciation, symbolizing the silence that often accompanies prolonged tragedies caused by human conflict.

As a child, I grew up in various countries. I was originally born in Mosul, Iraq, to an Iraqi Kurdish mother who tirelessly worked for a bright and safe future for her children. Constantly moving from nation to nation, city to city, and place to place, I know the anguish of not belonging anywhere.

While I cannot fully comprehend the suffering of others, we all share the fundamental longing to live peacefully in our homelands. For many, especially those deeply rooted in their native lands, it becomes ingrained in their souls—a nostalgic memory of a past life, even if it wasn't always ideal. And for those who were never afforded the chance to know their homeland well, there is a profound sense of grief and displacement.

A significant part of my childhood was spent in Jordan, a country that felt like home but was never truly mine to claim. During my time there, I encountered many Palestinians, ranging from wonderful and kind individuals to others with resentment due to perceived injustices.

Resentment, regardless of origin and from which side, reflect the enduring cycle of wars and conflicts. It's a sentiment echoed by many before, but it bears repeating: hate and violence only beget more hate and violence. As Martin Luther King Jr. eloquently put it, "Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars... Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that."

The sad truth is that war and conflict seem ingrained in the human condition and will likely persist in every era. However, we must continue to voice our dissent, hoping that each future generation might experience a slightly more peaceful existence than the last.

While acknowledging our past is essential for understanding the present, clinging to it will only perpetuate the cycle of violence. It's the responsibility of those in power to strive for a more compassionate and humane future for all people.

Most wars are not simply battles of right versus wrong but rather the outcomes of competing agendas, resources, and alliances. They result in ongoing conflict and struggle.

Criticism of Hamas should not be equated with being anti-Palestinian, and criticism of Israel (Netanyahu) should not be equated with being anti-Semite. 

Reflection on War: I sincerely hope all the remaining hostages of October 7th return to their homes safely, but after this is over, will the killing of Palestinian children stop? Or will it just continue as business as usual? Will taking over Palestinian homes & lands stop? Or will that also continue with disregard to their humanity and rights?

What terrifies me the most is seeing all the inhumanity from all sides, and all classes, including myself at times. Hearing and seeing the so-called intellectuals who “think too much and feel too little” (charlie chaplin). We rationalize our acts, and turn blind eye to the evil within. The same evil that committed the horrors of world war II and the many modern day genocides. As our technologies advances we are capable of ever more horror than before.

What other horrors will we commit in future conflicts? What more rationalization will we give? And what more of our humanity if there is any left, will we chop away?