Different Memories and Different Truths

For two decades, I have spent time with children abused by their parents. From that experience, I am convinced that violent behavior often grows out of what people have endured. There is no natural-born aggressor. If children are cared for—especially early on—most become kind and gentle (perhaps one reason homicide and other violent crime have declined over the past millennia).

To be clear, I am not at all excusing violence by survivors of parental abuse. I empathize with them, yet when they commit crimes, they still must be held accountable—though I sometimes cannot stop wondering where ultimate responsibility lies.

Individual memories and traits reflecting them end with death, but collective memories linger for generations. I see Israel's recent strikes on Iran through that lens.

Since the air strikes, some 300 civilians have reportedly been killed. U.N. officials question the operation's legality, and rights groups decry the toll. Under the U.N. Charter, force in self-defense is lawful only when danger is "instant and overwhelming." The IAEA's May 2025 report found no proof that Iran was actively weaponizing its stockpile.

Yet polls show roughly 80 percent of Israeli Jews support the attack. That stance rests on layered communal memory. For Jews, the Holocaust is not distant history: six million murdered while the world hesitated to protect them. Israel's 1948 War of Independence saw five armies vow to push the new state into the sea; the 1973 Yom Kippur War nearly reached Tel Aviv. Anti-Israel sentiment remains widespread, and the October 2023 terror assault is another fresh wound. Against that backdrop, an Iranian bomb feels less hypothetical than existential.

Two truths coexist. Israel's June strike was almost certainly disproportionate, of doubtful legality, and strategically risky. At the same time, it springs from lived catastrophe, not idle paranoia. I condemn the violence, yet I understand why many Israelis support it. Similarly, I see why the terror happened after decades of aggression against Palestine, though I condemn it.

Today, we cling to our own narratives and stop listening to others. That is dangerous in an era when humanity possesses weapons capable of ending us all. We must try—however painful—to listen and understand, even when the other side's actions have harmed those we love.