Why I Don’t Care About the Suffering in Gaza (Judean Rose) ~ Elder Of Ziyon

Wednesday, July 23, 2025

Why I Don’t Care About the Suffering in Gaza (Judean Rose)

Disclaimer: the views expressed here are solely those of the author, weekly Judean Rose columnist Varda Meyers Epstein.

The war in Gaza rages on, and the images of destruction and suffering are inescapable. Yet, if truth be told, I feel a profound apathy toward the plight of Gaza’s civilians. My emotions are reserved for the suffering of my own people—Israelis, Jews, soldiers, survivors, hostages, and hostage families. The events of October 7, 2023, and their aftermath, consume all my energy, leaving me unable to muster sympathy for those who, in my view, have aligned themselves with terror.

My feelings are instead completely taken up with the hostages and the 895 IDF soldiers who have died trying to free them. Each soldier’s death ripples through our communities—friends, neighbors, or children of friends. We exchange pained messages on WhatsApp: “Another soldier.” These are not faceless numbers; they are our boys, some barely out of high school, others young fathers or newlyweds. Their sacrifice haunts me, as does the moral calculus: is it right that so many die to save so few?

The hostages, too, consume my thoughts. I can’t linger on the horrors they’ve endured—starvation, beatings, confinement in dank tunnels—without risking my own ability to function. I push away intrusive images of October 7, when Hamas and Gaza’s civilians breached our borders, murdered, raped, and kidnapped. Civilians bragged about their atrocities, spat on our dead, and hid hostages in their homes. They voted for Hamas, an offshoot of the Muslim Brotherhood, in UN-overseen elections. They allowed tunnels and weapons under their children’s bedrooms. They are absolutely, 100 percent complicit.

You often hear people say things like, “the majority of Muslims are peaceful” and this always makes me roll my eyes. With what authority do people say this? If such a thing could be quantified, one would have to consider the ample evidence that shows the children of Gaza to be indoctrinated with Jew-hate from birth. They imbibe it with their mothers’ milk.

Do I believe every Gazan is evil? They’re complicit! How can they not be? Maybe some woman whose husband will beat her if she doesn’t vote for Hamas is innocent. I have no clue. But unfortunately, people get killed in war. And this war was started by Gaza. Not only by Hamas, but the people of Gaza, headed by Hamas. And it is definitely the people of Gaza who crowd the streets when there’s going to be a hostage release ceremony. They love to see Jews in captivity. They love to watch them be ridiculed. They love to jeer and spit and grab at them. They love to hate them.

So no. I do not believe that most Gazans are peaceful and neither do any of the polls I’ve seen on the topic. The people of Gaza continue to support Hamas and participate in the atrocities.

Now Gaza is rubble, its people hungry and desperate. Hamas shoots those who seek food or escape. Neither Egypt nor Jordan will take them in. No one will. But my focus must be with my own. My people, our soldiers, my son in the reserves, who leaves his wife and three young children to serve, again and again.

I asked my Facebook friends why they do or don’t care about Gaza’s suffering. Their responses were like an echo of my own thoughts, but perhaps offer greater nuance as well as important context I might have missed.

Avi Perez, 57, who made Aliyah from South Africa and lives in Ramat Beit Shemesh, pulls no punches:

“When a potential Middle Eastern Singapore chooses murder, terror, missiles, and more over prosperity and possibility ... mercy for monsters has left the store.”

Alex B., a 70-year-old Jew from Scotland, feels torn by guilt but still unmoved about the Gazan people:

“I don’t care about the Gazans… but feel guilty because ‘I’m supposed to/I ought to.’ They’ve been offered various options several times over the years to live there peacefully, refused every time, voted in Hamas, and as long as Hamas are around, Israel is in danger. And Israel has to exist.”

Tehilla O., 60, living outside Israel, is uncompromising:

“They aren’t suffering. If they are, it’s self-inflicted. All the hostages are released at the same time, it ends. Simple. They know where they are. Even as ‘civilians,’ they are Hamas. And quite frankly, after 7 October and since and what has and is still being done, they can cry me a river.”

Elihu D. Stone, 67, a religiously observant Zionist in Judea, expresses sorrow but places blame squarely on Hamas:

“I care deeply about innocents suffering the ravages of war in Gaza. The agonies wrought upon families who must endure the predictable and anticipated consequences of Hamas’s savagery of October 7th is absolutely heartbreaking. I wish that the global community would back Israel’s war effort against Hamas whole-heartedly and bring immense pressure to bear… to return all those whom Hamas kidnapped.”

Yael Pedhatzur, 76, from Meitar, Israel, sees Gaza’s suffering as their own doing:

“I have very little empathy for the plight of Gaza and the Gazans as I believe their situation is of their own making. No other country has been made to aid their enemy during wartime. As one who wants complete surrender of Hamas, I know it can’t happen as long as we provide them with food and supplies.”

“Hamas obviously doesn’t care about them either as they shoot their people who take the aid.

“I have been saying this for the last several campaigns in Gaza over the past 15-20 years. No electricity, no water, no food. That’s how you end a war.”

Mark Isser Coopersmith, reflecting on past expulsions, is direct:

“We should be starving them until they let the hostages go.”

Toby Dachs from Jerusalem focuses on Israel’s losses:

“My concern and pain is for the hostages and all the families who lost their sons in this horrific war.”

Batsheva Gladstone, a longtime friend, differs from me in that she makes the effort—she actively struggles to find compassion:

“I have to fight to care in the slightest about any palestinians. I have to remind myself almost daily that G-d doesn’t want us to turn off our humanity. And, if there are indeed any innocents in all this horror inflicted upon the Jewish nation we should try to muster up the decency to differentiate between the terrorists, the terrorist sympathizers, and the victims of circumstance. It’s admittedly a tall order, and sometimes I fail, but I try, and sometimes I can…

“Do I think the war is justified? Yes, sadly, 100%, and necessary. ”

Iris Breidbord Langman questions the existence of innocent Gazans:

“My only concern is for our hostages. The perpetual ‘victims’ joined Hamas in brutalizing our people. Is there a difference between them and Hamas? Show me one ‘civilian’ who came forward to help a hostage and I will care about that person.”

Cheryl Mallenbaum-Ninyo would care about the innocent, but finds none to care about:

“I care about the suffering of innocent people in Gaza. But where are they? (That’s a genuine question.) I can’t help but remember that when Israel offered immunity, safety, and a CEO added financial incentive for anyone in Gaza who helps return a captive, not one single Gazan came forward. So I genuinely wonder: Where ARE these ‘good, innocent people’? (Possibly the exception being newborns who have not yet been indoctrinated to needlessly hate and seek destruction.)

“Those in Gaza (or elsewhere) who support Hamas or who raise their children with blind hatred or who think murder, rape, burning, beheading, kidnapping, mutilation, etc. is justified to “bring attention to a cause” or who hold innocent civilians (and dead bodies) for psychological torture? They don’t have my sympathy.

“If the only way to spread your ‘message’ is to harm others, the ‘message’ isn’t worth spreading.”

Alisa Chessler dismisses the notion of civilian innocence:

“I only care about ‘innocent civilians’ and since we are nearly 2 years with NOT ONE person coming forward to identify the location of our hostages, I don’t believe there are any ‘innocent civilians’ in that sh*thole. So therefore, they can turn the place into a parking lot for all I care.

“My only concern is the environmental impact of the garbage there. It needs to be removed to restore the land back to something livable for Israelis.”

Jan Poller contrasts the lack of Gazan compassion with Israel’s pain:

“We care about a lot more than they cared about the men, women, and children they raped and beheaded.”

Hinda Rochel Anolick-Rachel Ann prioritizes her people:

“I care about the people in Gaza. I care more about my people in Gaza. And I care more about my people period. They come first. However terrible it is there, it is worse for my people who are being held hostage, and to give in to terrorists will result in greater harm to my people. It isn't a matter of caring, it is who I care more about.”

These voices, varied in tone and perspective, reflect a shared sentiment: Gaza’s suffering feels self-inflicted—and distant—when weighed against Israel’s personal, uninvited tragedy. We didn’t choose this war. They did.

So when the sound of planes overhead draws my attention away from work, my thoughts are on the men in those planes—not the hunger in Gaza. I pause and say a few psalms.

The moral weight of this war rests not in Gaza’s ruins, but in the lives of our soldiers and hostages. My heart holds only so much—and its space is reserved for my own suffering people: those who are chained, those who are fighting, those who are grieving, and those still waiting for their loved ones to come home.