"I wanted to be a soldier of Israel's defense forces since I was four years old", says Sahi. "Does that mean that I wanted to kill? Not, What I wanted was to love me, Like all children. When I played to shoot, My parents smiled. It wasn't until I entered the army that I realized that killing is part of the perfect citizen's duties, All in the name of the defense ".
Sahi was a pilot in the Air Forces, was part of the intelligence services, served his country and reached a privileged social position. He managed to become a university professor and taught with his m16 hung by the shoulder. “How do you think your Arab students feel, Actually?”, I asked him at the beginning of the war.
He managed to become a university professor and taught with his m16 hung by the shoulder
Sahi had not thought about. For him, The weapon was a power symbol, of estate. He represented everything that society and his family expected from him. As a good product of your environment, questions were not asked.
"The meekness is sweet and stuns you, I immobilize you, He empalas the ability to doubt ", He tells me smiling, Before taking my arm and forcing me to stop dry. "Careful, Don't step on them ", He warns me, pointing to a row of ants that advance diligent.
We walk through Palmahim National Park, A beautiful place that I am unable to appreciate. Absorbed advance, listening to my partner and feeling intimidated by the weight of his story. It has been a year since Sahi decided that no more: no more deaths behind them. Opposed the occupation, "Even if that means we will lose this land; After the, Our grandparents came here from other countries ".
Sahi's conscience had done crack, And he allowed me to witness it. I know it would be irresponsible, Even little ethical, give me an ideological colonization. So I observe, I answer the questions that my opinion raises and shares, underlining that this is an intimate process, his, And that I only have the honor of being a spectator, to listen to their stories, to write them with your permission.
Kibutz Be’eri
Bombs are heard falling on gaza. Sahi and his friends have a game: calculate the exact moment of the explosion. When they succeed, laugh. Sahi always wins; He has been winning his whole life. "We didn't think about the dead on the other side", ensures. "Then there would be no soldiers; They train us to fulfill orders, Not to question your ethical weight. "
Sahi participated in several missions during the first week of war, From digging tombs for dead soldiers until you enter the houses of the Kibutz attacked by Hamas to clean them with corpses, of explosives, of blood and the worms that grew up day after day in abandoned bread on the countertops.
Enter the Kibutz houses attacked by Hamas to clean them with corpses, of explosives, of blood and the worms that grew up day after day in abandoned bread on the countertops
The 7 October 2023, During the attack by Hamas al Kibutz Be’eri, Israeli forces bombed a house where hostages and kidnappers were found. Five members of an Israeli family were killed by their army. The decision of Brigadier General Barak Hiram was not questioned by his soldiers at that time. "A victim is better than a hostage with whom the enemy can negotiate", Zahi explained to me.
Days later, Sahi looks for human remains among debris. Someone uses a flour sieve to find teeth. Just that week, He had bought a similar one in an Arab store, whose owner, Samira, It was from Gaza. The pastry is your hobby, and go there every week to buy the ingredients you need. Sometimes they talk about recipes, and Samira teaches you tricks: How to prevent lumps from flour or how to measure sugar well. He wonders if his family will be safe in the strip. Imagine in your store, hooked on the mobile, looking for life evidence. Occasionally, Listen to an explosion on the other side and pray so that the dead are not the relatives of her friend, Although imagine them far from there, A Salvo. But it seems insufficient: Extend your prayer and pray so that no innocent dies. Although he knows that this is impossible.
Suddenly, Among the rubble, Find a toy. I had the same thirty years ago, When he decorated his room with combat aircraft posters and dreamed of defending his country.
Gaza bombings take it out of their self -absorption. First, wonders how many children will be dying just a few meters away. "It's the collaterality of war", He tells himself to calm down. "Innocent also died here, Is it?”. As if crying their own dead were incompatible with pain for others.
Emek Refaim
We are in a coffee from Emek Refaim street, Ghost Valley. It seems appropriate. Ghost Valley.
At the surrounding tables there are two orthodox Jews, A beautiful old woman and a couple who eats for eating. I go to service for a moment and I find a woman crying.
-“Do you need help?”, asked.
-“No, But a hug does. "
I hug a stranger in the bathroom of a Jerusalem cafeteria and return to the table.
-"All good?”, me pregunta sahi.
-“Sí”, context. "I was just hugging a girl."
Sahi Suspira, Accept that life is sometimes too much and does not ask more questions. The waitress approaches and he asks two coffees and something to eat.
-"Withdrawing the bodies is easy", tell me, no matter that it may not be the most appropriate conversation for lunch. but the same: War does not understand time.
withdrawing all the food from the refrigerators that no longer worked and organic garbage was more difficult over the days. The bread was filled with mold, Meat and fish could, And there were many worms. Despite the masks, The smell got into us, to the same brain
"However, withdrawing all the food from the refrigerators that no longer worked and organic garbage was more difficult over the days. The bread was filled with mold, Meat and fish could, And there were many worms. Despite the masks, The smell got into us, Until the center of the brain. I can still feel it, I still have remains of that smell inside me. End, We end up throwing the refrigerators directly, without opening them. "
The waitress brings us two coffees and something to eat that smells like life.
Sahi ate; Yo limited me to Sorber Café. Shortly after we walked back. He engaged in a call to organize all the details of his son's mitzvah bar; I, distracted with life. Sometimes I surprised pauses in our conversations: They gave way to a daily life that seemed absurd in front of the barbarism that took place a few kilometers from there, The same barbarism that we were shining word by word.
"The area was under attack", my friend continued immediately after hanging, Without leaving space to any kind transition. "Every time the alarm sounded, We had only five seconds to seek refuge. On several occasions I did not arrive, And I simply threw myself to the ground on the street, listening to the missiles whistle on my head and fall close, very close. I realized that I was not afraid, And then I started thinking about the children of Gaza, I knew they were afraid. The media and politicians assured that all those images that came to us were propaganda, that there were not so many dead, that everything was a kind of staging to be sorry for the world. But we were part of that, And although they trained us to execute without looking, Many began to understand that what was happening was beyond defense. "
One day, Sahi listened to one of his teammates to ensure that a three -year -old girl, who lay dead clinging to his wrist, He was a terrorist. He said it without flinching, As if repeated a truth learned. No one questioned it.
Sahi tampoco.
But that image - the small body, The doll between the fingers, The "terrorist" label floating on it - was recorded in memory, Like a wound that never ended up closing.
Another day, He heard that the attack on hospitals was more than justified.
People who died while having breakfast, while praying, while doing the beds. Doctors killed while trying to cover an emergency
"They told us they hid terrorists", I said. “Little by little we were realizing that we did not attack Hamas, but to the Palestinian people. End, Those terrorists were nothing more than parents who combed their daughters hair to crack their body minutes later. People who died while having breakfast, while praying, while doing the beds. Doctors killed while trying to cover an emergency ”.
I looked at my friend. Sometimes you have to be very brave to serve another in tray the least pleasant parts of our past. Do to do bits and remove the thorns, so that those who are in our present do not attract.
I understood why Sahi returned home one day and said that no more. No more death. No more defense of Israel if this entailed a genocide.
Then they pathologized their decision: "Post traumatic trauma", said.
Depression. Anxiety.
"Actually, you will be fine. Medícate”, They assured him.
They could not assume that he had made the conscious decision not to continue being part of the horror. He went from being an example for society and his family, to become the concern of both.
He continued teaching at the University, With reservations, And he dedicated his free time to pastries, That was what really made him happy
He continued teaching at the University, With reservations, And he dedicated his free time to pastries, That was what really made him happy: Prepare sweets with that sieve that had bought the Gazatí Samira.
Samira, that in the course of the war he ended up losing the whole family that he still had in the strip, and that, however, He kept selling sugar and flour to the Israelis who came to their store.
The heart on the correct sidethe
I just returned from working at the West Bank. The canyon that announces the end of the fast sounds: We are in Ramadan. I sit on the balcony and listen to how the overlooks are retiring, And how the street, normally crowded in eastern Jerusalem, is immersed in absolute silence; All break the fast with their families.
I as one of Zahi's croissants, Sugar loads, butter and resistance.
"I could tell you a long list of abuses and crimes committed by my country's soldiers", ensures. “Openly supported and justified crimes by members of my family and friends. But I prefer to tell you the moments that made me be aware that I didn't want to be part of all this horror. The price is high; I have lost everything, But I can live knowing that I didn't look the other way. No more life postizes, No more fraud, No more self -convence that my people's defense requires the genocide of another people ”.
Openly supported and justified crimes by members of my family and friends. But I prefer to tell you the moments that made me be aware that I didn't want to be part of all this horror
Sahi is not the only. More and more soldiers and reservists openly speak of the crimes committed in Gaza, They fight against narrative manipulation and face the misinformation of Israeli media.
“Sometimes I think about the ease with which we accept to kill that Israeli family at home, next to their kidnappers ", comenta sahi. "Now I understand that death and destruction are always the rapid solution of the so -called" most moral army in the world ". General Barak Hiram could not understand that, While there is life, There is salvation opportunity. For him it was a matter of strategy. For me, Life is a matter of hope. "
Silence.
"I don't know what will be of me", confesses Sahi. "At least I know I have my heart on the right side."
