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In a historical moment where Jewish identity is facing political and moral division, the inquisitive nature of the Four Children can inspire a new generation of Jewish families to question what we have been told about Palestinians in Gaza.
During the Passover seder, Jewish families recall our cultural yearning for freedom and liberation through storytelling and asking questions. This week, families across the Jewish world will gather to retell an ancient story, connecting with ancestors who passed on to us a generations-old struggle for justice and peace.
But what makes this night different from all other nights? This Passover, Jewish communities will continue to witness a rupture over Israel’s actions in Gaza, while Israel’s attacks on Iran and Lebanon will surely generate new questions. But, unlike the Four Children, or the child reciting, “Mah Nishtana,” many Jewish children will have their questions left unanswered.
By exploring what the Four Children might ask in this moment, and offering answers aligned to our Jewish values, we honor rather than shy away from the Jewish tradition of asking questions.
The wise one, what does he say? “What are the testimonies, the statutes, and the laws which the LORD, our God, has commanded you?” And you shall tell him the laws of Pesach.
If we truly want to honor our traditions and values, we must not shy away from difficult questions.
The wise child asks, “What are the testimonies of Palestinians in Gaza? What are the international laws that nations follow? What are the Jewish ethics which our ancestors have passed to us?”
When the wise child asks for testimony, you must share the countless firsthand accounts of Palestinians in Gaza who have endured deteriorating conditions and cruelty at the hands of the Israeli military.
When the child asks for statutes, you must guide them to United Nations reports, International Court of Justice cases, and International Criminal Court investigations that provide evidence of war crimes and genocide.
When the wise child asks for laws, you must show how our Jewish texts instruct us to value all life, command us against standing “idly by the blood of another,” and teach us to honor each soul as a universe.
The wicked one, what does he say? “What is this service to you?” He says, “to you,” but not to him. By thus excluding himself from the community he has denied that which is fundamental.
The wicked child asks, “Why do they deserve this?” “They,” the child says, and not Palestinians, not families, not human beings. When the child excludes others from humanity, they exclude themself. You must call them in and say, “we must stand with Palestinians facing genocide in Gaza.” “We,” and not, “I,” for our safety is intertwined.
The simple one, what does he say? “What is this?”
The simple child asks, “What is this?” What is the truth about Gaza?” He hears opposing narratives in the news, on his phone, and in his Jewish community. He hears Zionists describe the people who live in Gaza as terrorists, animals, and other dehumanizing labels justifying collective punishment. He sees another reality, a mosaic of humanity–children, doctors, journalists, and families– experiencing profound grief and suffering.
The simple child is confused, and we must direct him to seek truth and act in alignment with his Jewish values: Never again means never again for anyone.
As for the one who does not know how to ask, you must open [the story] for him [...]
And for the child who doesn’t know how to ask, you must open a path for them to question the narratives that Zionists tell of Palestinians in Gaza, just as Jewish culture teaches us to question, challenge, and debate our traditions and worldviews.
Passover is a testament to the power of retelling stories that resonate across generations. The Four Children, a key part of the Passover haggadah, have always acted as archetypes of Jewish engagement. In a historical moment where Jewish identity is facing political and moral division, the inquisitive nature of the Four Children can inspire a new generation of Jewish families to question what we have been told about Palestinians in Gaza.
If we truly want to honor our traditions and values, we must not shy away from difficult questions. Nor should our answers ignore the parts of our tradition that teach us to prioritize life, to love the stranger, and to challenge our worldviews. Our children deserve nothing less.
If the killing of children in Gaza, Lebanon, Syria, Iran, and across the Middle East is normalized, then it will become just another accepted feature of war. And since “war is hell,” we will all move on.
Those who had the misfortune of growing up in a war zone require no explanation. War is hell, it is true—but for children, it is something else entirely: a confusing, disorienting fate that defies comprehension.
There are children who live only briefly, experiencing whatever life manages to offer them: the love of parents, the camaraderie of siblings, the fragile joys and inevitable hardships of existence.
There are over 20,000 children in this category who have been killed in Gaza over the span of roughly two years, according to figures released by the Gaza Health Ministry and repeatedly cited by United Nations agencies. Some were born and killed within the same short time frame.
Others remain buried beneath the rubble of the destroyed strip. According to humanitarian and forensic experts cited by the United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA), thousands of bodies are still missing under collapsed buildings, with recovery efforts hindered by the scale of destruction and lack of equipment. In some cases, extreme heat, fire, and the use of heavy explosive weaponry have rendered identification nearly impossible, meaning that many of these children may never be properly accounted for, let alone mourned at a grave.
None of us had any understanding of who these men were or why they were hurting the people who cared for us.
These children will not have graves to be visited. And if they do, many will have no living parents left to pray for them. But we will always do.
And then, there are those who are wounded and maimed—tens of thousands of them. Visiting Amro, the wounded son of a relative who perished along with his entire family in Gaza, I witnessed one of the most heartbreaking sights one could possibly endure: the wounded and maimed children of Gaza in a Turkish hospital.
There were a few teenagers, many without limbs. Hospital staff had adorned them with the beloved Palestinian keffiyeh. Those who could flashed the victory sign, and those who had no arms raised what remained of their limbs, as if to tell every wandering visitor that they stand for something deep and unyielding, that their losses were not in vain.
But then there were the little ones, who experienced trauma without fully comprehending even the magnitude of their tragedy. They stared in confusion at everyone—the unfamiliar faces, the incomprehensible languages spoken around them, the empty walls.
My nephew kept speaking of his parents, who were meant to visit him any day. They were both gone, along with his only brother.
I was in kindergarten in a refugee camp in Gaza when I witnessed my first military raid. The target was our school. I still recall our teachers pushing back against soldiers as they forced their way into the building. I remember them being physically assaulted, screaming at us to run toward the orchard.
We began running while holding hands with one another. We were all wearing matching red outfits with stickers on our faces—none of us had any understanding of who these men were or why they were hurting the people who cared for us.
If the killing of children in Gaza, Lebanon, Syria, Iran, and across the Middle East is normalized, then it will become just another accepted feature of war. And since “war is hell,” we will all move on, accepting that our children—anywhere in the world—now stand on the front lines of victimhood whenever it suits the calculations of war.
Everything we have said and done has failed Gaza, Lebanon, Syria, and much of our region.
I have thought about this often in recent years—during the devastation in Gaza, the wars across the region, and the killing of students at a school in the Iranian city of Minab.
Minab is not just an Iranian tragedy; it is our collective loss. Evidence from international investigations indicates that the strike on the Shajareh Tayyebeh school was not an accident, but the result of deliberate targeting within a broader military campaign.
Amnesty International concluded that the school building was directly struck with guided weapons. Investigations by major outlets, alongside US military sources, suggest the site had been placed on a target list despite being a functioning school. The result was devastating: children killed, families shattered, and yet another atrocity absorbed into the relentless rhythm of war.
The US administration may deny intent as often as it wishes. But we know that the killing of children is not incidental. It is evidenced in Gaza, where the scale alone defies any claim of accident. As UNICEF Executive Director Catherine Russell stated, “Gaza has become a graveyard for thousands of children.” That reality alone should end any debate.
I could pause here to tell you that all children are precious, that all lives are sacred, and that international law is unequivocal on this matter. I could invoke the Fourth Geneva Convention, which states that “protected persons… shall at all times be humanely treated,” and that violence against civilians is strictly prohibited.
Yes, I could do all of that. But I fear it would make little difference.
Everything we have said and done has failed Gaza, Lebanon, Syria, and much of our region. International law, once seen as a shield, has become little more than a point of departure for conversations about its ineffectiveness and hypocrisy.
Speaking to Palestinians about international law often generates not reassurance, but frustration and anger. So I will spare you that, too.
Instead, I want to make a call to the world.
A call on behalf of Amro, and the many others from our family who were killed, and the thousands more who perished; a call on behalf of the frightened children of the Flowers Kindergarten in my old refugee camp in Gaza: Please, do not allow them to normalize the killing of children.
Do not settle for indifference, or mere concern, or even moral outrage that is never followed by action.
All indications point to a new and brutal type of war in Lebanon—one that could drag on even if the war in Iran comes to a close.
Israel’s defense minister said in a statement this week that Israeli forces are working to implement the “Rafah and Beit Hanoun model” in southern Lebanon, sparking fears that Israel is planning to flatten entire towns in an attempt to defeat Hezbollah once and for all.
As Israel prepares its forces for a full-scale invasion, the intensity of this new approach is starting to come into focus, even as most of the world’s attention has stayed on the U.S.-Israeli war in Iran. Israel’s war in Lebanon has already killed more than 1,000 people in a country of just 6 million. All indications point to a new and brutal type of war in Lebanon—one that could drag on even if the war in Iran comes to a close.
Ahead of a broader ground campaign, Israel has mandated that civilians leave large swathes of territory in southern Lebanon and some neighborhoods of Beirut, which has faced waves of airstrikes. Many civilians have heeded these calls, leaving nearly 20% of the population displaced. But, now that Israeli forces have destroyed all bridges across the Litani River, which separates southern Lebanon from the rest of the country, remaining residents will have little choice but to bunker down.
As with Hamas in Gaza, Israel’s strategy is unlikely to succeed in completely destroying Hezbollah, according to Middle East analysts. An extended occupation, as Israel is now threatening to pursue, could instead provide a lifeline to Hezbollah just as public opinion in Lebanon had begun to turn decisively against it. Such a result would represent a significant setback to US and Israeli efforts to disarm the militant group.
The campaign comes as the Lebanese government has started to seriously crack down on Hezbollah, including by declaring the group’s armed wing to be illegal. But a long, brutal occupation could help the group rebuild its domestic legitimacy.
If history is any guide, a sustained occupation may even push Hezbollah’s skeptics in Lebanon to join the resistance, according to Thanassis Cambanis of the Century Foundation, who has written extensively about Hezbollah and Lebanese politics.
“Israel and some of its supporters have forgotten that they don't have free rein to do whatever they want by force,” Cambanis said. “Countries can and do fight back.”
Hezbollah was forged in the crucible of Israel’s first military campaigns in Lebanon. In 1982, as the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) invaded Lebanon for the second time in four years, Shiite leaders in the country’s south formed militias that would eventually coalesce into the militia-cum-political party that has in many ways defined the course of Lebanese politics ever since.
Hezbollah has never commanded the support of most Lebanese people, but it has earned a sort of begrudging respect through its military successes. Most notable among these was the insurgent campaign that drove Israeli forces out of Lebanon in 2000, ending Israel’s two-decade-long campaign in the country.
The pause in hostilities didn’t last long. In 2006, Hezbollah launched raids against Israeli soldiers along Lebanon’s southern border in an attempt to force Israel into a prisoner exchange. Israel, determined to restore deterrence with its northern neighbor, invaded the country and debuted a new military doctrine that would later become known as the Dahiya doctrine.
The Israeli campaign, meanwhile, has led to extensive civilian harm, including at least 15 attacks on paramedics and first responders.
The Dahiya doctrine relies on disproportionate force, including the destruction of civilian infrastructure, to deliver lasting setbacks to Hezbollah and incite Lebanese popular opinion against the group. In the 2006 war, this meant flattening large parts of the Dahiya neighborhood of Beirut, which is largely Shia. After Israel withdrew, both sides declared victory. Israeli deterrence held strong until after the October 7 attacks, when Hezbollah launched rockets into northern Israel.
Israel pursued the Dahiya doctrine again in its 2024 invasion of Lebanon, destroying buildings and infrastructure across the country. Hezbollah and Israel reached an agreement to stop hostilities after about two months of war, but Israeli forces have maintained a steady campaign of air strikes ever since.
Now, following Hezbollah’s decision to fire rockets at Israel after it killed Iranian Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei, Israeli leaders appear determined to move up the escalation ladder and pursue a Gaza-like campaign in Lebanon. These attacks are “unlike anything we’ve seen before” in the country, according to Cambanis. “Instead of ‘mowing the lawn,’ they want to ‘burn the lawn.’” So far, this has meant going after targets like gas stations, bridges and civilian homes.
This strategy has drawn skepticism even from pro-Israel commentators. “Israel will raze all the homes along the borders to flatten areas, apparently in order to prevent threats,” wrote Seth Frantzman of The Jerusalem Post. “[I]t’s hard not to see this as punitive and collective punishment.” Israeli Maj. Gen. Yair Golan, who still serves in the IDF reserves, argued last week that a “deep military maneuver inside Lebanon, without a clear political objective, will drag Israel back into the Lebanese mud” without bringing “real security.”
This higher level of intensity, combined with the long occupation that Israel is now threatening, could “succeed for a time” in degrading Hezbollah, Cambanis said. But “it's guaranteed to more deeply destabilize not just Lebanon, but also Syria.”
Further complicating matters for Israel is the news that Hezbollah has reconfigured its forces for a sustained insurgency. According to Reuters, Iranian military officers have since 2024 helped the militant group redesign its command structure from a centralized force into a decentralized one made up of “small units with limited knowledge of each other's operations, helping to preserve operational secrecy.”
The campaign comes as the Lebanese government has started to seriously crack down on Hezbollah, including by declaring the group’s armed wing to be illegal. But a long, brutal occupation could help the group rebuild its domestic legitimacy.
“A prolonged Israeli military presence will likely deepen instability and further weaken Lebanese state institutions,” wrote Nicole El Khawaja and Renad Mansour of Chatham House. “It will also create the conditions for Hezbollah to reconstitute its military capabilities and rebuild popular support.”
Further inflaming the situation are comments from Israeli Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich, who called this week for the annexation of southern Lebanon in order to create a new “buffer line.” Rights groups have also raised allegations of Israeli war crimes, with Human Rights Watch accusing the IDF of using white phosphorus bombs, which cause severe burns and emit toxic fumes, in civilian areas.
In an ideal world, the US would withdraw “any support for Israel's campaign in Lebanon” and force Israel into negotiations.
Hezbollah, for its part, has launched more than 3,500 rockets and munitions into Israel, forcing some Israelis to live in bomb shelters full-time. These attacks have killed multiple Israeli civilians; on Thursday alone, the group fired more than 100 rockets into Israel, killing one civilian and injuring an additional 13.
The Israeli campaign, meanwhile, has led to extensive civilian harm, including at least 15 attacks on paramedics and first responders, according to Emily Tripp of Airwars, which monitors civilians in conflicts. “In the last three weeks we have identified more than 330 incidents of civilian harm,” Tripp told Responsible Statecraft. Prior to Israel’s 2024 campaign in Lebanon and its ongoing operations in Gaza, her organization had “never documented more than 250 civilian harm events in a single month,” she added.
The early days of this latest Lebanon campaign have drawn significant international blowback. Spanish President Pedro Sanchez slammed Israel for seeking to “inflict the same level of damage and destruction” in Lebanon as in Gaza, and United Nations Secretary General Antonio Guterres said the “Gaza model must not be replicated in Lebanon.”
The United States, for its part, has said little about the war. In an ideal world, the US would withdraw “any support for Israel's campaign in Lebanon” and force Israel into negotiations, Cambanis said. “In practice, we know that the US has greenlit what Israel is doing in Lebanon.”