10 | APRIL 28 • 2022 

PURELY COMMENTARY

SOCIAL MEDIA continued from page 6

everything that’s happening right 
now, war is happening in two dif-
ferent areas: The battle of the real 
people, fighting for their homes, 
health, family, safety and lives, 
calling for help and begging for 
salvation, aside from the battle 
on our screens, the dreaded fake 
news war that’s threatening to 
detract from the value of what’s 
out there. 
I want to believe that we all 
try to look at the bigger picture, 
doubt what we read, check the 
sources or the background and 
stick to the facts we know. And 
yet, why am I so intrigued by 
what’s going on on social media? 
Well, it seems like we forgot how 
to talk. 

MY PERSPECTIVE
I’m an 18-year-old teenager, who 
was born and grew up in Israel. 
Growing up, I remember better 
and worse times in my country. 
We have never lacked for prob-
lems, fighting operations, dangers 
or criticism around us, but we 
kept living our lives because this 
is the story of all of us. We live 
our routine, and no matter what, 
when something happens, even 
my dad, with a family, will put on 
his IDF uniform from 10 years 
earlier and go out there. What 
else can you do?
But the first time I realized 
how bad social media could 
affect what’s happening out-
side was in May 2021 during 
Israel’s Guardian of the Walls 
operation, the last fighting oper-
ation between the IDF and the 
Palestinian terror organizations 
in the Gaza strip. I constantly 
followed the news as I was sitting 
nervously in my home in Jezreel 
Valley. Seeing on the side of the 
screen rockets siren alarms, one 
after another, at such a rapid 
pace on the TV that before I had 
time to read the name of the city, 
another name pops on the screen 
in big, bold letters. 

I followed nervously the IDF 
battalions that were entering 
the battles, the names of those 
who came back injured, trau-
matized or hurt, aside from 
those who didn’t come back at 
all. Thousands of rockets were 
fired into Israel, with friends and 
family from the south and the 
center running back and forth 
from their shelters or escaping up 
north to find refuge, leaving their 
homes behind.
The chaos, the danger, the 
pain, I’m sure not just us Israelis 
felt those feelings; perhaps the 
Palestinian people did, too. But 
the world out there sharing, 
posting, typing and hashtag-
ging didn’t help the situation. 
Hundreds, thousands, hundreds 
of thousands of social media 
pages covered what was hap-
pening. Pro-X, Pro-Y, everyone’s 
opinions suddenly became facts. 
Users were fighting in comment 
sections, insulting posts, TikToks 
and tweets everywhere. But 
mostly, fake news and twisted 
reality that increased the rage and 
frustration of the people in the 
shelters, of the soldiers outside 
still trying to do the right thing 
after the whole world is criticiz-
ing Israel until it seems that peo-
ple forgot that there are people 
on both sides, homes, families 
and dreams. For me, it was har-
rowing.

THE MEET PROGRAM
Last May, when everything hap-
pened, was a few weeks before 
my graduation from one of the 
most meaningful programs I’ve 
taken a part of: MEET — a lead-
ership program for Israeli and 
Palestinian high schoolers. I feel 
this program has greatly influ-
enced me, opened my horizons, 
and taught me how to design 
my identity as an Israeli Jew who 
strives for peace and a peaceful 
life together. I learned to be 
aware of my story and look for 

the people around me, even if we 
have different points of view. 
Through the three years of the 
program, in which we created 
entrepreneurship projects, lead-
ership workshops and computer 
science classes, I made genuine 
friends through DU — Deeper 
Understanding sessions. This 
place proved to me that it was 
a safe space where you could 
listen, share and talk your honest 
thoughts and opinions no matter 
what was happening outside. 
 Those were the moments I 
thought I was building some-
thing bigger. Until this single text 
message one night in the middle 
of May that popped on my screen 
from my MEET’s cohort group 
chat from one of the most prom-
inent students. Right after some 
exciting messages about our 
upcoming graduation ceremony: 
“On behalf of the Palestinian 
students, We would like to ask 
you to give us our certificates 
without having events with the 
other side.
”
No one responded for a long 
time, but obviously, it aroused 
the interest of us all. It did not 
matter what would happen next, 
whether we would graduate 
or not. At this moment, I felt a 
failure. I’ve known these people 
for the last three years. We came 
together, 50% Israelis and 50% 
Palestinians, to create something 
unique. Not just social startups 
to help create a better future for 
the Middle East, and not just 
comforting vocabulary in leader-
ship studies. I’ve always believed 
there is an added value to this 
program that brings Israelis and 
Palestinians together and perhaps 
gives us the only opportunity to 
get to know each other from such 
a close view.
I did not understand when I 
became the “other side.
” What is 
even the “other side” and wheth-
er, after three years of such deep 
connections, there is a place for 

titles like “Palestinian” or “Israeli” 
students? Before I even had a 
chance to share my views, the 
opportunity to listen to honest 
opinions, real people, not the 
ones hiding behind posts and 
hashtags, I became the other side. 
 
 Why? Because some people, 
celebrities, actors, musicians, 
athletes and influencers who hsve 
a following, and have probably 
never heard a siren in their life, 
decided that my friends and I 
were on two different sides.
Beyond the frustration of the 
lack of understanding, opacity 
and ignorance of those giant stars 
who write to their millions of 
followers beautiful words about 
what’s going on from their safe 
homes on the other side of the 
world, my friends and I could no 
longer speak.
We are neighbors for the long 
term, and if we want strongly 
enough, we can also be good 
neighbors, but the war on social 
media continues to separate us, 
even more than the real one, it 
seems.
Why do I still think about 
it, almost a year later? In these 
very days, when a big part of the 
world is in the midst of a war of 
survival, think about what you 
read, see or hear and always ask 
yourself: Should I comment in 
public or maybe start talking to 
this one person with the opinion 
I care about? Should I share it 
because it’s something I agree 
with or maybe I just like this 
guy’s music? Should I keep 
scrolling, look around and talk 
to someone with an opinion I 
appreciate? 

Ron Harel is a young israeli emissary in 

the Jewish communities of Metropolitan 

Detroit and Ann Arbor. Here in Michigan, 

you can find her volunteering at Frankel 

Jewish Academy, Temple Israel, Hebrew 

Day School of Ann Arbor, Washtenaw 

Jewish News and JFMD, among other 

places.

