In an otherwise aged and ancient city, Jerusalem’s Chords Bridge serves as a gateway to the contemporary, with its bold architecture and modern beauty making a stunning statement. Centered at the entrance of the city, its form resembles a harp with cables as strings, breathtaking in pristine white as it soars over 380 feet above the city.
I fell in love with this bridge at first sight. It was the first time I had ever been to Israel and was following a passion to study in and explore the land of my ancestors. As I drove by the bridge, I saw it as a symbolic representation for new possibilities. It was the entrance to the city I would be living in, and looking new and somewhat out of place in its ancient surroundings, I immediately identified with it.
But on Dec. 15, 2015, my relationship with the Chords Bridge changed forever. It was a beautiful, sunny day in Jerusalem. My friend and I were on one of our adventures and we had to take a bus from Kiryat Moshe. As we scanned our Rav Kav cards and were about to sit down, a sudden series of loud noises across the street caught our attention.
Looking out the window, we couldn’t believe the scene before us. A white Mazda sedan had driven onto the sidewalk across the street in an act of terrorism, smashing into pedestrians at the bus stop. The site became total chaos in a matter of minutes, with sirens wailing and people and police rushing to the scene. We later learned that 14 people were injured, including a 15-month-old baby. There was also an axe and screwdriver found in the passenger seat of his car, indicating the terrorist’s intention of stabbing civilians post-car ramming.
Since the beginning of the Al-Aqsa Intifada, also known as the Second Intifada, in late September 2000, Israeli society has been antagonized by continual terrorism, including knife or gun attacks, drive-by shootings, home intrusions, car rammings and suicide bombings. In his investigative article “Living with terror, not Living in Terror: The Impact of Chronic Terrorism on Israeli Society,” Dov Waxman explores research done by psychologists and sociologists on the impact of chronic terrorism on a targeted society.
Palestinian terrorist attacks during the Second Intifada deeply impacted Israelis, yet did not alter Israeli behavior in a lasting or major way. Though the widespread influence of terrorism was felt, Israeli society refused to be conquered by it, and, in this respect, the terrorism failed in its objective. This is because the Israeli public grew accustomed to chronic terrorism and adapted to a social resilience.
This warfare and terrorism against an established society seeks to achieve a political, religious or ideological aim through violence. A wave of violent attacks, therefore, would presumably have an increasingly negative psychological impact on its target. Yet, this doesn’t appear to be the case in Israel.
In a study conducted on the Second Intifada, the rate of PTSD symptoms among Israeli society remained at a relatively low level, despite experiencing numerous traumatic events, which should have rationally caused further psychological damage. This was the case despite the fact that 60.4 percent of Israelis believed that their own lives were in danger, and 67.9 percent believed the same about their family and friends.
According to Waxman’s study, the explanation lies in what is known as the “accommodation effect,” meaning that the quantity of stress formed by continuous traumatic events decreases. As terrorism becomes a regular occurrence, habituation and desensitization kick in, allowing the maintenance of normal life.
Perhaps what is most startling, however, are the social repercussions of terrorism in Israel. Major events influence people’s beliefs and attitudes, and when a civilian population is progressively targeted, it assumes a greater sense of victimhood and unwillingness to go beyond its suffering, while delegitimizing its counterparts.
The threat of terrorism deconstructs a society’s immunity to stereotypes, leading to increasingly negative stereotyping by members of the targeted society. The rise of Islamophobia in the United States following the attacks on 9/11 and increased racism in Europe are examples. Likewise, during the Second Intifada, Israelis held extremely negative stereotypes of Palestinians, viewing them as deceitful, violent and lacking respect for life.
What’s worse is the rise of ethnocentrism and xenophobia when a group unites in the face of danger. Identification with and support for the in-group rises, while identification with the out-group decreases. A 2015 Pew Research Center study revealed that 48 percent of Israeli Jews said that Arabs should be transferred or expelled from Israel, while 46 percent disagreed. An intolerance has manifested itself within Israeli society, and while terrorism propelled Israeli Jews to experience a rejuvenated sense of unity, Arab citizens became subject to intensified suspicion and hostility. This was negative for all parties involved.
Ultimately, terrorism aims to undermine its targeted society — to create a widespread sense of helplessness and despair. If the targeted society does not become disheartened, terrorism fails. As a temporary resident of Israel, I can personally attest to the fact that Israelis refuse to allow the threat of terrorism to govern their lives, despite its persistence. Though they experience high levels of stress and fear, they do not retreat into their homes or significantly alter their daily routines.
I believe Israel’s scars are both beautiful and ugly — its adversities constantly challenge it to rise from its ashes and tears, rousing profound emotional attachment and nationalistic sentiment among Israelis. Ironically, however, this unification’s origins and sustenance were contrived from the same point — stratification between Israelis and Palestinians.
My experience is just one of millions that stands as a product of contrasting feelings of unity and division. I never thought I would be the one to witness terror in Israel — especially at the Chords Bridge — altering my reality forever, yet strengthening the love and solidarity I felt for Israel even more than I thought possible.
Dalya Panbehchi is a sophomore majoring in integrative neuroscience.