Bit’s a time we’re all living through. Like so many other people, I’ve watched the horrific events in the Middle East over the past year and tried to decide how to respond. I’ve seen the blatant anti-Semitic incidents in my own city and felt a mix of anger, fear, and astonishment that we’re at this point in our country. To say nothing at this point feels like betraying my own conscience. But what can you say? How do you express the complicated and very real feelings in this frightening world of social media, where seemingly every expression of opinion exposes you to online vitriol from one side or the other? The issues we’re dealing with are so nuanced and complicated that short statements can in no way fully express what I want to say from the bottom of my heart. As a public advocate for refugees, I struggle to reconcile my silence with this work. Please bear with me as I explain. And to be clear, what I am saying here is my personal opinion, not that of any organization – it is simply how I feel.
In 2016, I had the opportunity to work with UNHCR, the United Nations Refugee Agency. This global organization is dedicated to saving lives, protecting rights and building a better future for people who have fled their homes because of conflict and persecution. The agency was founded to help the millions of people who fled World War II. It leads international action to protect refugees, displaced people and stateless people, and ensures that everyone has the right to seek asylum and find refuge in their homeland from violence, persecution or war.
With UNHCR, I have visited refugees and people affected by war and violence in Lebanon, Guatemala, Jordan, Poland and Ukraine. I visited Lebanon just before the eighth anniversary of the Syrian conflict and met refugee families struggling to survive among the millions living on the brink. I went to Kyiv after the full-scale Russian invasion and spoke to people whose lives have been turned upside down by this senseless war. I have advocated for refugees at the United Nations and before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, imploring the U.S. government not to ignore this global humanitarian crisis. I say this not to praise myself, but to make clear that if I am to speak about these issues in these places, I cannot ignore the crisis that is currently at the center of the world.
I am Jewish. And I am also half Irish. My father’s mother came to the United States as a refugee from Poland. His father’s grandfather was from Ukraine, where over 100,000 Jews lost their lives in the ethnic pogroms that preceded the great horror of the Holocaust by just two decades. My mother’s grandparents came from Ireland in search of a better life. They arrived in New York with an abundance of hope, but not much else.
My father served in the US Army at the end of World War II. He met my mother and they married – he was Jewish, she was Catholic. That was an issue back then. They had to deal with prejudice from both sides of their families and the outside world. They turned that tension into humor and based their stand-up comedy act on their ethnic differences, which brought them together – and brought them success.
My mother converted to Judaism when they married. Our household was not religious, but we learned the traditions of inclusion and tolerance. After my bar mitzvah, I didn’t go to synagogue as often. But I always felt connected to my Irish and Jewish heritage and valued the bonds I saw between both sides of my family. Ultimately, they came together through my parents’ love for each other. It was a palpable and beautiful thing that I experienced as a child. As a child growing up in New York City in the ’70s surrounded by that love, I never really experienced anti-Semitism. Where we are now is something I never imagined I would be.
Like so many Jews, I mourn for those who suffered from the barbaric Hamas attack on October 7, and for those who have suffered from these atrocities. My heart aches for the families who lost loved ones in this heinous act of terror, and for those who have been anxiously awaiting the return of the hostages still held captive for months. It is a nightmare. I also mourn for the innocent people of Gaza who lost their lives in this conflict, and for those who are now suffering this terrible reality.
I abhor war, but what Hamas did was unconscionable and reprehensible. The hostages must be released. Terrorism must be named and fought by all people of conscience on this planet. There is no excuse for this under any circumstances.
I stand with the Israeli people and their right to live in peace and security. At the same time, I do not agree with all of the Israeli government’s decisions regarding the conduct of the war. I want the violence to end and for the innocent Palestinians affected by the resulting humanitarian crisis to receive the life-saving assistance they need. And I know that many in Israel share this view.
I am convinced, like many others in Israel and around the world, that a two-state solution is needed – a solution that allows the Israeli people to live in peace and security, while the Palestinian people have a homeland that offers them the same benefits.
I also see a disturbing mix of criticism of the actions of the Israeli government and condemnation of all Israelis and Jews. And as a result, we are witnessing an undeniable rise in global anti-Semitism. I see it myself, on the streets of the city where I grew up. It is not right and must be denounced.
Anti-Semitism must be condemned whenever and wherever it occurs. As must Islamophobia and bigotry of all kinds. There is a frightening forgetfulness of history in the air. We must remember that only by learning from the past can we create a more hopeful, just and peaceful future.
Of course, I am not a politician or a diplomat. I have no solutions to these global conflicts, nor do I claim to offer any. I think, like so many other people, I am struggling to process all of this. But as an advocate for the displaced, I believe this war must end. As I write this, some 120 million people have been displaced by conflict around the world. In the Middle East, in Ukraine, in Sudan and in many other countries. They all have a right to live in safety and peace. Human suffering must end. That is what we must demand of our politicians. Peace is the only way.
