This is a translated version of the column published in La Tercera
The year that has passed since October 7, 2023, is one of the worst in the recent history of the Middle East. It started with the more than 1,200 murders committed by Hamas on that fateful October 7— the worst catastrophe suffered by the Jewish people since the Holocaust— and continued to the more than 40,000 people killed by Israel, mostly women and children, in the year that followed.
As a descendant of Palestinians, it has always been complex for me to identify as one. Not only do I not speak the language and maintain no contact with my relatives in the region, but I have also never been part of the extensive and active Palestinian community in Chile. My greatest connection, until now, has been the food, passed down by my grandmother, who, despite being Chilean, made the best stuffed grape leaves I’ve ever tasted.
Likewise, through very dear people, I have come to know closely the violence of antisemitism and how it affects millions of Jews around the world every day. It is not just a form of racism, but it also hides conspiracy theories that dehumanise an entire people and their traditions, besides putting their lives and safety at risk.
I say this because the massacre against the Palestinian people, my people, has made me reconsider my reluctance to identify as one. It has made me reaffirm a legacy that I did not choose but cannot ignore. It is hard not to see my own children in the faces of the children in Gaza; after all, they share the same features and history. And it also becomes so evident why millions of Jews defend Israel despite its atrocities: they see in Israel’s project a safe haven that history has denied them for centuries. That, in a way, is also the tragedy of the Palestinian people, who today have no place in the world where they can feel safe.
Today, Palestinians have (or we have) no voice or humanity. By using the excuse of human shields, the Israeli government has turned the entire population of Gaza into terrorists. Or defenders of terrorists. Or at least, people who decided to live in the same neighbourhoods as the terrorists. Or who took their children to the hospital when there was a terrorist nearby. In the end, the point is clear: Palestinians are no longer people with rights, and are instead terrorists, actual or potential. Some might think, “Better to kill them now than later,” as they buy into that narrative. That is what Netanyahu’s government has done in Gaza, and gradually, they have extended it into the West Bank and Lebanon. Their doctrine is one of collective punishment and dehumanisation.
A year after October 7, we remember the lives of those who were massacred by Hamas terrorism and those who live as their prisoners—those hostages who seem to have been forgotten by Netanyahu and his gang. And we also grieve for the thousands of innocents who have died at the hands of a cruel, relentless, and disproportionate vengeance.