‍

Sarah has lived in Canada for 25 years. This woman in her forties grew up near Paris. His parents, Jews from Algeria, returned to France upon the independence of this country. She is the mother of five children.

Hajer, who has lived in Canada for four years, was born in Kuwait in 1984. His parents, Palestinians, fled the West Bank during the Six-Day War in 1967. They ended up settling in Jordan. She is the mother of three children.

La Converse met these two women, a Sephardic Jew and a Palestinian woman, during various public gatherings related to the Israeli-Palestinian question. Although they don't agree on everything, one thing unites them: these mothers realize that people are dying on both sides. Both require humanity for both peoples.

‍

” I can't believe they're talking to me about Their Dead ”

‍

Thursday 12 October. In front of the Scotia Tower in downtown Montreal, the organization Palestinians and Jews United (PAJU) is holding its weekly vigil. As the rain starts to fall, activists wave their signs and flags, hand out pamphlets calling for a boycott of Israel and the end of apartheid. Most passers-by continue on their way, indifferent. Some offer friendly smiles, others call PAJU members “terrorists.” One person spits at the Palestinian flag.

Sarah* is standing on the side of the street, puzzled. “Do you agree with all that? ” she asks me. She holds her phone, where images of sheets stained with the blood of Israeli victims appear. “Boycotting Israel and ending apartheid? I find it rather paradoxical, given the PAJU's demand for unity between Jews and Palestinians. There is a certain dichotomy here,” she laments.

‍

‍

Since the Hamas attack on Israeli territory, Sarah has been deeply upset. “I no longer have an appetite, I can't fall asleep anymore. I am not Israeli, but I am a Semite, I am Jewish. For me, it seems like an offense against my own family,” she says, her voice sad.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she explained, “I think that as a people, Jews often tend to be discreet because of the history of our persecution. We feel like we have to justify ourselves all the time.” Her lower lip quivers, she looks down at the ground, then continues: “But the current events are undeniably and categorically unacceptable. They represent a violation of all moral boundaries. When I look at these images — children's beds covered in blood (...) — it's beyond comprehension.”

‍

‍

Her gaze falls on the PAJU poster that shows a Palestinian child without life on a beach in Gaza. She shakes her head in disagreement. “I can't believe I'm being told about Their dead! We have to defend ourselves. We are not aggressors. We are not the initiators of aggression; rather, we are constantly forced to respond to attacks against us. As Jews, we are deeply rooted in pacifist values. We don't want war, but rather restore peace,” says Sarah. She mentions Palestinian Red Crescent videos released after the attacks on Gaza. The organization is asking for help to support civilian victims of the bombings. “Hamas should use its money to help its poor people instead of using it to destroy us! ” she hammers, turning her back on us.

‍

“O, my God, grant your mercy to all the dead ”

‍

Friday the 13th October. I meet Hajer. It is at the heart of the Montreal tide that came to show their support for Palestine. Adorned with a black and white keffiyeh thrown over her shoulders, she sports a Thob black (dress) decorated with Palestinian embroidery.

A few hours before the demonstration, Hajer went to the library to print posters with the slogan: “Free Palestine.” “A woman with a child wearing a kippa complained about me, asking the library to refuse to serve me. She thought my posters were antisemitic and promoted terrorism. Fortunately, the library rejected this request,” she said.

“I was told that it could be dangerous to come to the demonstration, but for me and my children, it is the only place where we feel safe. I feel like I am where I need to be right now, with these thousands of people. It gives me hope, I am proud to see this mobilization,” she told me as she looked at the streets invaded by a crowd of demonstrators.

‍

‍

On the steps of the Israeli Consulate General, helmeted police officers are on alert, ready to intervene. Seeing them, Hajer said to me: “I can't imagine what it must be like in Jerusalem to pray under the surveillance of the Israeli army. I feel uncomfortable even right now; I can't imagine how hard that must be.”

A smile is on his lips. She continues, determined: “My fellow Palestinians have always told me that they find comfort in knowing that we do not forget them, that we are holding our elected officials to account, that we are speaking out against this injustice,” she says of the Israeli bombardments in Gaza.

Hajer regrets the confusion that some politicians make between protests, Hamas, terrorism and Palestine: “I no longer want to spend my time justifying ourselves. I am tired of defending the humanity of my people, of my faith. It's exhausting! ”

She took a deep breath and continued: “We're trying to make it look like we're happy when children die. It's not true! Nobody can be happy when children die. At the same time, we only talk about this situation when the victims are Israeli. Where is the international community when the Israeli soldiers Kill children in the West Bank? At least there were 34 Children killed January to August 2023. There is no Hamas in the West Bank, no justification can be found for shooting at children.”

‍

‍

The demonstration is coming to an end. Over the megaphone, a refugee from Gaza, who arrived in Montreal five years ago, speaks. First, he starts by claiming that there are Palestinian Jews, Muslims, and Christians. Then, to honor the memory of Gazans who die without funerals, he recites a prayer — for the dead, but also for the living — so that they can bear the atrocities they are experiencing. He ends this collective prayer, recited in front of the Israeli Consulate, by asking for forgiveness for his people, for his dead and for all the Palestinian and Israeli victims. “Allahoj al-Fitr Alamotai” (O, my God, grant your mercy to our dead, and to all the dead) declares the speaker. Hajer's lips gently pronounce an “amin” (amen).

‍

“I am not trying to make the Jews leave, but rather to repatriate all the Palestinians”

‍

Tuesday 17 October. Hajer welcomes me at her home in Côte-Saint-Luc. The news of Bombing of a hospital in Gaza has just begun. At the time of publishing these lines, no independent official investigation has yet determined who is responsible for this tragedy.

For Hajer, there is no doubt that the Israeli army is responsible for this strike against civilians. “Gazans report hundreds of deaths. It is not the first time that Israel has targeted a hospital. We did not forget 2014 ” she recalls, her eyes filled with emotion. “I feel guilty for being here safely with my three children, while in Gaza, there are hundreds of thousands of people who are in danger of death,” Hajer tells us.

” Gaza! Gaza! Don't You Cry, We Will Never Let You Die (Gaza! Gaza! Don't cry, we'll never let you die),” Hajer sings with her eyes closed. “You simply can't compare the horrors Israeli settlers are doing to Palestinians to the attack on October 7. For decades, they have been destroying their trees, they are stealing their land, they are taking their homes. It all started long before October 7th. They say they want to create peace, but what kind of peace are we talking about? For whom? The Palestinians have not known peace since 1948. And when we say that we are at war... It is not a war, it is a massacre, an ethnic cleansing, a genocide of the Palestinian people! Peace will remain out of reach until there is a Palestinian state, as long as Palestinians cannot regain their land and prosper at home... There will be no peace as long as Israel persists,” she added after a long silence.

Hajer remembers visiting her grandmother in the West Bank: smashed windows, bullets stuck in the walls, and her grandmother taking care of her olive trees. “My maternal grandparents always refused to leave their land. They have resisted all their lives, preferring to live in danger rather than in exile. My grandfather was killed by the Israeli army during the first intifada. My grandmother passed away 30 years later at the age of 90. She was older than the State of Israel. She was born free but she died colonized.”

Her voice trembles, her calm evaporates: “We are not individuals prone to violence. Why didn't Gaza arouse interest in 2018-2019 ? When Gazans marched peacefully to the border every Friday, and more than 200 People, including An 8-year old infant They lost their lives for months ? We don't have to look very far to identify the victims, to understand who is being oppressed and who is the oppressor. You just have to look at who controls water and access to medical care,” she illustrates.

“All I want is to return to my country in peace, without the constant fear of being exterminated. It is difficult to justify the validity of a murderous state, a state that caused my exile and that of my fellows. I am not trying to make the Jews leave, but rather to bring all the Palestinians back.”

The door to the house opens, letting his son in. After a Salam Warm (greeting in Arabic meaning “Peace be upon you”), the 13-year-old teenager, born in Jordan, looks at his mother with concern and asks, “Did you see what happened in the hospital?” Have you seen the kids? Will there be another demonstration this week? We have to participate! ”

Hajer kissed him on the cheek and continued: “They say that the old people will die and the young will forget, but we are still here. Our existence is in itself an act of resistance. You know, I've never seen my son as passionate as I was at last week's demonstration.”

The teenager continues: “I felt full of energy, I felt strong. On Monday, after the weekend of October 7, my teacher called Palestinians “terrorists.” This week, she backed off after seeing the reaction of students and parents. She now says that every human being deserves to live.”

“My son has never set foot in Palestine,” says Hajer, “but we plan to go there next summer, hoping that there is still a Palestine to be found.”

‍

“Ask for peace for Jerusalem”

‍

‍

Wednesday 18 October. At the corner of Saint-Laurent Street and East Duluth Avenue, placed on a pole, a poster shows a young Israeli woman abducted by Hamas on October 7. A few steps away, Sarah is waiting for me in a café. More than 11 days after the Hamas attacks in Israel and the Netanyahu government's response against Gaza, Sarah's speech is more nuanced.

“It's just horrible, everything that's happening in Gaza.” This is the day after the bombing of Al-Ahli Baptist Hospital in Gaza. Sarah is convinced that it was a Palestinian rocket that fell on the hospital. “Hamas is hiding in schools, mosques and hospitals. And yesterday he bombed his own people! ” she said.

Is peace still possible, after all? Sarah is hesitant.

“This war will be a long one. Today, I do not believe that a dialogue is possible. But maybe one day, in two or three generations, when the tensions have subsided, I think we'll get there. In the immediate term, the loss of life must be stopped,” she said.

For her, Hamas attacks have strengthened ties between Jews and strengthened their loyalty to Israel. “You know what it's like to live constantly among people who barely tolerate you? Six million Jews were exterminated. The world needs Israel. It is a necessity. If Israel had always existed, there would have been no Holocaust,” she exclaims.

She opens the Instagram application on her phone to share a Video illustrating solidarity within the Jewish community. It shows an IDF soldier, lying on white bags that seem to contain donations, with a cigarette in his mouth, one in his nose and two in the back of his ears, saying in Hebrew, “Thank you for everything you are sending, but we don't need anything else.” She comments with a smile: “Hamas sought to destroy us, but that strengthened us.” The Jewish community is incredibly united and resilient.”

She thinks back to the measures taken by the Israeli government in response to the Hamas attack, which killed 1,400 people. Regarding the cuts in water and electricity imposed by Israel on the inhabitants of Gaza, Sarah asks: “Why are the Palestinians not autonomous? Why don't Palestinians have their own water and electricity? Why do they depend on Israel? If something like that ever happens to me, forget it! I work it out with myself! ”

We are addressing the issue of the siege of Gaza, which has already been under blockade since 2007. Her eyes soften, and she admits, “The truth — and I realize that's not fair — is that I've never really been interested in Palestinian issues before.”

About the 34 Palestinian children who were killed in the West Bank from January to August 2023, she explains: “I have heard about teenagers throwing stones at moving vehicles, smashing windows and thus causing drivers to lose control and accidents. That is why the Israel Defense Forces must intervene.”

She shakes her orange juice bottle. A few seconds of silence passed. Then, she adds: “The Palestinians have to be good. They need to be able to live in peace. They must be able to settle down, feel good, and they too must be able to lead normal lives.” She mentions France: “It's the same. I grew up in a neighborhood in the suburbs of Paris. Lately, there have been major riots following the murder of Nahel, a young Muslim who was killed by the police. In response, young people destroyed public property, But why did they do all this damage? she asks rhetorically. “Because they are not accepted. When you're not accepted, when there's no equality, that's what happens. It is the same for Palestinians. Every parent wants to be able to raise their family, to offer their children opportunities, a future. You want to be able to raise your children, you want them to be able to live well, to have a chance to live; and that's not the case.”

Sarah now believes that it is essential for Palestinians to live in decent conditions so that peace can be envisaged in the region. “To have this peace, we, the Jews, must also be respected and valued in the Middle East region”, she adds.

In these difficult times, Sarah finds refuge in her faith. I then mention to him the last line of the collective prayer recited during the demonstration in support of Palestine. “Oh, my God, grant your mercy to our dead, and to all the dead.” Moved, Sarah pulled out her phone and in turn recited the Torah to me. David's Psalm 122: “Ask for peace for Jerusalem! May those who love you live in safety! May peace be within your walls and tranquility in your palaces,” she concludes.

‍

Sarah and Hajar: a people

‍

Sarah and Hajer are not really called that. They want to remain anonymous for security reasons. I chose to give them these names because they both told me about their shared religious heritage, including Sarah And Hajar are iconic figures.

‍