EL MIRADOR

As always, trekking always leads to some of the best conversations. With the hike about to come to an end, I simply had to bombard Ethan and Hannah with a relentless barrage of questions that had been piling up all throughout. 

I had met dozens of Israelis, but somehow, it always felt like they were there and I was here. I had taught English to a few who’d come to Malta to learn, but that was pretty much it. However, much to my surprise, since I started travelling, I’d been stopped by Israelis again and again, convinced I was one of their own – only for them to be sorely disappointed the second I revealed the bitter truth about my nationality. So I asked Ethan what was up with that. He said it was mostly a language thing. Israelis usually speak Hebrew amongst themselves, and many aren’t as fluent in English, so they tend to stick together. Add to that the fact that most of them travel in groups – usually before or after their military service – and you’ve got a pretty insular travel culture.

Perhaps naïvely, I asked whether it might also have something to do with their people’s history. Ethan said that whilst there are still some Israelis who do indeed still harbour some form of resentment towards outsiders, it is mostly confined to the older generation who’ve been through hell and back themselves, or had relatives of their own that were directly or indirectly affected by WW II. Those who do hold a grudge rarely act on it – except for the few who use it as an excuse to behave however they want.

I pressed them a bit more about military service, having heard much about it but never directly from Israelis. Hannah explained that it’s mandatory at age eighteen – three years for men, two for women. Military service can involve anything from IT to logistics, kitchen duty, or active combat. After completing their service, some go on to do Master’s programmes offered by the army to ensure stable employment, while others take time off to travel and explore new cultures. Ethan served in active duty, with around eight months of basic training, while Hannah worked in the educational sector, teaching geography to soldiers who hadn’t finished school. 

Eventually, our conversation turned to war. Ethan and Hannah explained their take on the ongoing Israeli-Palestinian conflict. According to them, much of the issue stems from historical displacement – the rich and noble Arabs fled the region during the early 20th century, leaving behind the poorer and more destitute communities that still live there today and seek independence, even though the territory is now occupied by Israel. The conflict largely centres around the West Bank, a region next to the Mediterranean. Control of this area is split: some parts are governed solely by the Palestinian Authority, others are jointly managed, and some are entirely under Israeli control. Free-flow between the State of Palestine and Israel is heavily restricted, with Palestinians often viewed as security threats. Ethan believes this separation also hides another purpose – to prevent the two populations from mixing and realising how similar they really are, thus perpetuating the conflict. In his words, “It’s a form of apartheid.”

He added that, in past efforts to reduce tensions, the Israeli government has tried – often unsuccessfully – to evacuate Israeli settlers from Palestinian territories, at significant financial and political cost. Meanwhile, granting full rights to the Arabs living there could shift the balance of power, potentially giving them majority influence in Israeli parliament. As such, the situation remains unresolved, with around two-thirds of the Israeli population leaning right-wing. That their Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, was elected despite four pending court cases (and being ineligible to serve as a minister because of this) doesn’t help matters either.

At the ripe and tender age of eighteen – an age when most of us were preoccupied with exams or losing our virginity – Ethan was drafted as a combat soldier in the West Bank. He was stationed at a border checkpoint where long queues of people would line up daily to cross into different territories, often for work. He told us that Palestinians underwent more scrutiny than necessary, and while many days were uneventful, others weren’t. Sometimes, rocks were thrown at passing traffic from overhead bridges—though the armoured vehicles were unaffected. On rarer occasions, if someone was suspected of harbouring weapons, Ethan’s unit would conduct night raids. This, he recalls, was one of the worst experiences as they would have to ransack homes and make a show of power, usually humiliating the men – culturally seen as the heads of the household – and terrorising their families in the process – a trauma they’ll surely carry with them for the rest of their lives.

Back when he was conscripted, he considered himself right-wing, proud of his role in what he saw as Israel’s defence. He had grown up indoctrinated with nationalistic values, especially since his grandfather had fought in the war for Israel’s independence. He admitted he liked the adrenaline, the authority, the power. 

But everything changed after he completed his duty. As he began travelling and meeting people from all over the world, his views began to shift. Studying in Jerusalem, he came to realise something profound: people – no matter where they come from – mostly want the same things. They want to lead a peaceful life – they want to work, earn a living, maintain their families, and pursue their goals, that’s it.