A Personal Recipe for Peace

"What now?" groaned my wife of 23 years, who ordinarily does not watch the news, but last night overheard developments concerning the Goldstone Report on Israeli television. The report was written at the behest of the United Nations Human Rights Council, and its predetermined conclusions did nothing to advance Middle East peace. Even Mary Robinson wouldn't lend her hand to this inquiry, but that didn’t prevent Goldstone's fellow commissioner, Christine Chinkin, from declaring Israel guilty before seeing evidence.

Surprising, however, was the response of my wife, who has known much horror over her lifetime. Three of four grandparents and an aunt were murdered by the Nazis. Much of her childhood was spent in bunkers on a kibbutz shelled incessantly by Syria. In 1991 our sixth floor apartment trembled when Iraqi missiles fell on Tel Aviv. In 2006 she said goodbye as I "commuted" to war – a mere two-hour drive to my reserve unit on the Lebanese border. In January our oldest son was sent into Gaza following years of rocket fire into southern Israel, and currently Hezbollah is aiming 40,000 missiles at Israel, many capable of hitting our new home in Caesarea.

The Goldstone Report in comparison? Empty words, yet when does this hostile preoccupation with a tiny nation, only nine miles wide at its waist, end? Gaza was evacuated, and in response Hamas escalated fire into Israel. Two Israeli prime ministers, Barak and Olmert, offered to evacuate the West Bank in exchange for peace, but both Arafat and Abbas were incapable of concluding the deal. The tensions with Iran and its surrogates, Hamas and Hezbollah, stem from an age-old struggle for hegemony between Persians and Arabs, Shiites and Sunnis; Saddam fired missiles into Israel in order to mobilize Muslim support, and Ahmadinejad is threatening the same game for the same reasons.

So where do we begin to look for Middle East peace? How do we break the cycle of violence? More to the point, what can I do personally?

I wish you could spend an average day with us: When we need electrical or plumbing work, we call the Israeli Arab contractor who renovated our house. When he enters, there are handshakes, coffee, questions about children, and talk of impending marriages. Later, his team roams freely around the house, while I busy myself behind the computer. He knows I'm a reserve officer and that our oldest son served in the paratroops. It doesn't matter.

If I need to buy something, I'll probably drive to the Gan Shmuel Shopping Center, where Arab and Jewish consumers mix freely. If I need medicine, I'll most likely be served by an Israeli Arab pharmacist and afterwards make small talk with the Israeli Arab woman behind the cash register.

You could also accompany my wife to her hairdresser, an Israeli Arab. Occasionally they argue over politics, but much of their last conversation was devoted to his trip to a Turkish resort with Jewish families.

My son? He plays basketball with Arab youths from the neighboring town of Faradis.

I strongly favor a two-state solution, but ask Israeli Arabs if they would amalgamate their villages with the neighboring Palestinian Authority and abandon their political freedom and prosperity. No way, notwithstanding the prejudices they sometimes suffer.

You see, peace is about shared values and mutual respect. It's not going to come from judges, diplomats, politicians or journalists. It just might arise from one-to-one interaction.