Demonization. The banality of the thought struck me on Yom Hashoah, Holocaust Martyrs’ and Heroes’ Remembrance Day, Tuesday, April 14, 2026, starkly raising rhetorical why questions. The question disturbs hours of my days and nights: how does any individual defining himself or herself as Jewish perpetrate crimes against humanity, against Palestinians in the West Bank?

I presume most Jews presume to identify with messages we should all learn from the Shoah. If “never again” should apply to all humankind, if Israel coming to the rescue in places where it has no diplomatic relations but a natural disaster occurred and Israel can help and does, reflects some shared, collective values, then it is only dehumanization of Palestinians that can allow rationalization by any Jews that their evil is not at odds with their values.

What cannot be done to other human beings can be done to Palestinians because those who so believe do not consider Palestinians human beings. Dehumanization strips this perceived enemy population of human status. Despite that logic, sensibly resolving how any Jew can do such things, my questions remain unanswered: how can Jews go to such extents to dehumanize others, why?

Late afternoon, in a hardly characteristic manner, I watched a television interview of MK Yitzhak Kroizer, a far-right politician from Ben-Gvir’s party. The interviewer attempted challenging him. Maybe he would rescind or contextualize a statement in some way to sound like he has the capacity for human empathy. In a late March parliamentary session, he was recorded saying there are no innocent children in Jenin. It only follows, considering his statements in November 2023 calling for flattening of Gaza, a destiny only of death for all Gazans. When he makes statements on behalf of blanket support for IDF soldiers, one might momentarily be drawn to a mythological memory of thinking that should be a core Israeli value.

But that cannot be a core Israeli value when Jewish Israelis participating in protective presence actions on behalf of Palestinians in the West Bank report incidents of Jewish settlers attacking Palestinians, violating Palestinian’s rights, perpetrating undeniably rampant crimes, often serving the right-wing agenda of ethnic cleansing. Israelis involved in acts of protective presence describe the disappearance of the perpetrators once authorities are notified, only for those perpetrators to reappear in uniform. I can certainly not blindly, uniformly support actions by IDF soldiers. Kroizer can.

The interviewer asked Kroizer about the recent killing of an innocent family of Palestinians in the West Bank, tragically resulting from an ostensibly militarily justifiable mission aimed at others. Kroizern assured he would express no remorse for the loss of lives of any of his enemies. He is the enemy of hope that both sides might reverse dehumanization and allow that to transcend the truths of historical hate and vengeance.

A few days before Yom Hashoah, the mayor sent residents a text message. A Kfar Saba resident, 85, a Holocaust survivor, Elias Grossman, z”l, without any close family died. The funeral was scheduled for Sunday. The mayor asked that his memory be for a blessing. The message thanked residents of the city who would attend the funeral and honor Grossman’s memory.

I did not attend, but that is the kind of moment, when I can be catapulted back into mythological time when I was proud to be Israeli. For a moment, I was moved and proud to live in a city where this lone individual’s memory concerns the mayor. No upcoming municipal election arouses my cynicism.

A civic initiative, by a friend, restores hope in this grim context too. She organized an exhibit in the Armenian Quarter of the Old City of Jerusalem honoring Armenians who saved Jews during the Holocaust. When there are religious Jews who spit, and far worse, at Armenian clergy in the Old City, this exhibit performs a service. I presume you must dehumanize to treat innocent clergy with such disrespect. Maybe there is a path back?

At the end of Yom Hashoah, we went to see “Singer” at the Cameri Theater. Haim made reservations. I failed to do my homework. I went thinking theater bordered on inappropriate even at the end of the day. Entering the theater, a wire across the stage, I wondered if the Auschwitz image connected to the plot or just a commemorative statement before the show began. I don’t know to what degree the Cameri adaptation is loyal to the original British production, but I was not prepared for Holocaust remembrance pervading most of the first two hours. Trauma. Different people deal in different ways. Denial. Transcension. Drowning. Intermission. Almost inaudibly, I whispered the apocalyptic thought to Haim: all that’s missing is an analogy for the next hour implicating Israeli society, drowning itself. I could not move from my seat.

Following intermission, another decade, stage and performance appeared less professional than in previous scenes. Intentional? Part of the message. Thatcher. Making Britain Great Again. Not Trump. Not Bibi. But the humor, and seemingly more amateur stage design provided relief from reality. With reality.

Angered. My capacity to honor the memory of the Shoah diminished. New days ensued. Ceasefires advanced to agreements. Credibility? Recalling songs of the 70s about a war that should be the last. Sharing a common belief that war is the destiny of the Jewish people in Israel. The lyrics of the 70s sound deceptive. For a moment, I naively ask: 53 years from now, will people living in peace perhaps look back at the 2020s when everyone lost faith in peace? Will people respect narratives of the other, regardless of their own narrative, recognize the humanity of the other, knowing humanity has its dark sides and that illuminating the brighter side performs a service?

Harriet Gimpel, April 18, 2026

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)