Now it’s here again, October 7th

Now it’s here again, October 7th – and with it, the horror. I can still remember exactly what I was doing that morning when I read the first news reports. I was sitting at the kitchen counter on a barstool, having breakfast. That’s where the horror first reached me – through the news. I swayed on my stool, appalled at what I was reading, and caught myself. An explosion of thoughts rushed through my head. It was the day of the Long Night of Museums. Should we cancel? Would that be even possible at such short notice? For all the terror it cased, was this a solitary attack that was now over? That morning, the reports spoke of around 100 dead.

 

Throughout the day, I was on the phone, constantly checking the news in between. Nothing was clear, except that cancelling the Long Night was no longer an option. The Jewish Museum would remain open. I went to the museum early to speak with the team. Of course, it’s okay – anyone who wants to check their phone, who is worried about relatives and friends, should do so. Anyone who wants to go home, can. Meanwhile, the number of victims kept rising by the hour, reports of fighting came in, the situation was said to be unclear. Shortly before the museum event began, the police arrived and asked if we needed support. Thank you, not right now, everything is peaceful. While the number of victims kept rising, the first visitors arrived, and I wondered why there were so many young people. I remember that evening well: I kept my phone in my hand, constantly monitoring the news as I , greeted people, calmed them down, saying everything would become clear, that there was no danger here. By then, reports already spoke of around 1,000 dead and of hostages taken to Gaza. Horrific.

 

And I was still, greeting people, greeting, greeting, and smiling, even though there was nothing to smile about. So many people came. Finally after the third time someone mentioned it, did I realize that so many visitors were coming to show solidarity. That gave me strength and courage amidst all the horror. Somehow, we have to go on, somehow we must keep going, because there are so many good people.

 

Those were my thoughts two years ago. By now, not only is all the horrors that took place on of October 7th two years ago well known and documented, but new horrors have been added. For two years, the families of the hostages still held in Gaza have lived in the horrors of October 7th; for two years, Israelis have been trapped in a collective trauma from which their government seems unwilling to free them. For two years, Palestinians have also been trapped in trauma – the trauma of terror and war. Horrors are happening in Gaza, and Hamas has no intention of freeing the civilian population from this horror.

 

And we, here, see these horrors – but many want to see only one horror, to perceive only one part of this vast horror and deny the horrific nature of the other part . They say you can’t see both parts at once, that doing so would diminish one side. Is that so? I don’t believe so, because there is no single vast horror, but many horrors strung together. Seeing them all, recognizing the entire long chain of horrors, is important. Only then do we see that this chain has already become far too long. Two years, so many horrors. Two years of October 7th.