A mourning that becomes hope

Memories of brothers, husbands, in-laws, and, most heartbreaking of all, children. Killed in the October 7 massacre, by Israeli bombings in Gaza or the West Bank. Homes destroyed, the memories of a lifetime erased. Testimonies that ache, a burden of unspeakable suffering, yet without losing the ability to see and recognize the suffering of others. A suffering that refuses to turn into hatred and, instead, chooses to be hope; the choice to engage in the Parents’ Circle Families Forum to give a modicum of meaning to their own pain through mutual comfort with others who share similar grief, and, above all, choosing to work to ensure that this pain is spared at least for future generations. Testimonies of women and men of various ages, Israelis and Palestinians, alternating with music and songs in Arabic and Hebrew. The twenty-first annual Joint Memorial Day Ceremony, in remembrance of the Israeli and Palestinian victims of the conflict, held last night on Yom HaZikaron—the Day of Remembrance preceding the holiday of Yom HaAtzmaut, which celebrates the birth of the State of Israel—was followed live by thousands of people around the world. Like last year, the Jewish Studies Group (this year in conjunction with the Turin part of Left for Israel, Two Peoples, Two States) organized a live viewing of the ceremony at the Social Center.
What can we say, three thousand kilometers away, faced with the testimony of a woman from Kfar Aza who lost her son in the October 7 massacre and saw her kibbutz devastated? We can only remain silent; and indeed, last night at the Social Center, rightly so, there were no speeches, aside from a brief opening address from Bruna Laudi, President of the Jewish Studies Group.
All those who spoke at the joint ceremony, Israelis and Palestinians, were driven by a shared belief: acknowledging the grief and suffering of “others” takes nothing away from our own grief and suffering. Remembering the Palestinian victims of the conflict on the evening of Yom HaZikaron takes nothing away from the memory of the Israeli victims. Indeed, it offers a perspective, a concrete alternative to hatred, the hope that those deaths were not in vain, that it is possible to see an end to the conflict, that it is possible to dream of a future of peace. This was also the meaning of this year’s title, “We are the day after.”
The ceremony concluded, as in previous years, with a special version of the traditional Passover song, “Chad Gadià,” “A Little Goat,” in which, in place of the final verse about divine intervention, there is a heartfelt appeal to end this tragic chain of hatred and violence.

By Anna Segre