I was supposed to be in Israel on October 7. I was invited to join my colleagues for a historic women’s march in Jerusalem and the Dead Sea where thousands of Israeli and Palestinian mothers would march for peace, protection and a better future. Their core message is simple, “We call on the peoples of both nations – Palestinian and Israeli, and peoples of the region to join our call and demonstrate their support for the resolution of the conflict.”
“We call on the women of the world to stand by us for a future of peace and security, prosperity, dignity and freedom for ourselves, our children, and the people of the region.”
A few weeks before the trip, I grew uneasy and as the trip approached, I found I lacked the clarity and calm I needed to move forward on the logistics. I was confused as my latest risk assessments indicated this was not a dangerous time. And relative to the other places I have traveled for work, Israel was not a dangerous place.
I knew my friends were also expecting me and my support and could hear the sadness in their voice when I told them I wouldn’t be coming.
Then the disastrous events of October 7 played out in our WhatsApp group chat, on the news, and from daily updates from my friends in Israel and Palestine. Our colleague Vivian Silver was kidnapped by Hamas, her whereabouts unknown, her fate in the hands of terrorists. We waited and rallied and prayed for her safe return. She was confirmed dead a month later.
In the weeks following the attack, what added more pain to the acute suffering was the unprecedented retaliation that began to take the lives of our Palestinian friends as well.
I wasn’t sleeping, and all I could see were the faces of my friends. All they could see were the faces of their children.
Navigating the complicated emotions of survivor’s guilt, sadness, and helplessness were only compounded by a social media feed flooded with politically exploited footage.
I called my friends in Israel and Palestine, but the war made communication sparse or impossible. I called friends with family in Lebanon, and we cried together. Each day I woke wondering who had lived and who had died.
My own pain, of course, pales in comparison to my dear friends in the region who were crushed by the weight of escalating violence, whose children, brothers, sisters, uncles, grandparents, and parents were killed, displaced, or suffering.
For me and my loved ones, the war is more than headlines, it is the lived horror of real people – real mothers who care for their children.
At the same time, the world has demanded that you choose a side: Are you pro-Israel or pro-Palestine?
What a useless question! My friends tell me their most important identity is mother — both those whose Israeli children are still missing as hostages, and those whose Palestinian children are dead. In each case, these mothers want to know: do you have children or love them? And what are you doing to alleviate suffering for all children everywhere?
Mothers are the key to peacebuilding and the future of our world. Mothers understand more tangibly than anyone else the sacrifice of life, the intensity of survival and the necessity of connection.
Mothers understand that peace is about the future of their children.
My dear friends in Israel and Palestine who marched on October 4 have not stopped marching. Bringing together women from both sides of the conflict, they have invited all peace makers to join their Mother’s Call, “We, Palestinian and Israeli mothers, are determined to stop the vicious cycle of bloodshed and to change the reality of the difficult conflict between both nations, for the benefit of our children.” Can we heed their call?
Women Wage Peace continues to protest against certain decisions by the government in Israel - demanding justice, demanding an end to the hostage crisis, demanding an end to the killing of Palestinian children.
As attacks in Palestine reach genocidal levels, mothers in Israel and Palestine are pleading, “We invite our leaders to heed the voice and will of your peoples in this call to resolve the conflict and achieve an inclusive, just peace. We are committed to taking an active role in the negotiation process until its successful resolution, in line with UN Resolution 1325 (acknowledging the disproportionate and unique impact of armed conflict on women and girls).”
“We call on our leaders to show courage and vision to bring about this historical change to which we all aspire,” the statement continues. “We join hands in determination and partnership to bring hope back to our peoples.”
This Mother’s Call transcends borders and cultures. In my own faith tradition, it was the faith and action of mothers that motivated a sacrifice for freedom, “Now they never had fought, yet they did not fear death; and they did think more upon the liberty of their fathers than they did upon their lives; yea, they had been taught by their mothers, that if they did not doubt, God would deliver them. And they rehearsed unto me the words of their mothers, saying: We do not doubt our mothers knew it.”
Mothers hold the power to end wars, to negotiate peace, to motivate freedom. May we create space for mothers at the negotiating table as we call on mothers of our world to mobilize. Their voices and perspective are key to a peaceful future. We can heed the Mother’s Call both locally and globally by viewing conflict as a mother does, taking pause before speaking, and most of all, seeing all children as your own and the future of peace as our own too.
Rachel is the Founder and CEO of Bellwether International, a 501c3 nonprofit dedicated to disrupting the cycle of genocide.