I Went to Europe Expecting Hate

Since my daughter was verbally assaulted in the Philippines, I've done a lot of thinking. In the last few years, especially during the time I took a break from this blog, I've traveled rather extensively in Europe. And though I have not traveled far and wide in Asia, I have been all over India and visited several places in Thailand.

Overall, my experiences travelling as an Israeli have been positive. In Germany, Finland, Denmark, Austria, Italy, Serbia, Croatia, Greek and beyond. They see me as a person and treat me with respect. Mostly. Not completely. In Amsterdam, they looked at my Israeli passport and asked if I had one from another country. I answered that I had an American passport (and I did at the time). When he asked for it, I asked why he wanted it. His response was that it was easier, mine was that he should use the Israeli one.

Exactly one month after October 7, I had to travel to Germany for a conference. I was presenting three sessions, so there was no question that I could not cancel. The conference organizers asked me if I would be able to travel. My heart screamed, "no, are you crazy? Of course, I can't travel!" and my brain, ever the logical one, responded, "so long as the airlines doesn't cancel, I'll be there." The airliner was El Al, and of course they would not cancel. From the start of this horror, El Al has remained dedicated to "keeping Israel's skies open."

In shock and pain for my country and worry for my sons, I boarded the airlines. I cried quietly on the plane and often in my hotel. But at the conference, I was hugged and surrounded with support and I was committed to telling them what the monsters had done. They cried, I cried. Israel was the victim of a horrific attack.

And then Israel did the unthinkable...well, that's silly. How can it be unthinkable that we fought back when we've been doing that for 77 years? Well, we did. And as we fought on seven fronts, Jews around the world are being targeted. In England. In France. In Germany. In Spain. In Canada. In the United States. In Australia and more places than I can name.

So I travel to Europe and I tell the truth. I explain. I've gotten used to seeing the clarity in their eyes when I tell them what really is happening, as opposed to what BBC said. They nod their heads when I explain the truth behind the story and not just the results CNN showed. And they told me we should break Hamas for what they did on October 7 and every day since. And I respond that that is exactly what we are doing. 

But as we approach the two-year "anniversary" of the horrors of October 7, antisemitism has reached horrific levels and this time, traveling for a one day meeting in Copenhagen felt different. I went to Europe expecting hate, almost daring people to say a word. My younger daughter, still affected by what happened to her, told me not to tell them where I was from. "Say America or just don't say anything." And in my heart, I knew that would never happen.

I am a Jew, born one, lived openly as one, will (ad 120) die one. A child of Jewish parents, of Jewish grandparents, of Jewish great grandparents murdered by Hitler. I married a Jewish man. A man with Jewish parents and four grandparents who were all murdered by the Nazis. You will not silence me. You will not take away my pride in my land, in my people.

And so on Thursday afternoon, I boarded the El Al plane and landed in Frankfurt, Germany expecting hate. Instead, when my carryon was opened and the man said it tested positive for explosives, I stared at him and held my tongue. I had just gone through Israeli security. In my mind, the best in the world because we do the unthinkable - we profile based on anything we need in order to find the threat and protect our people. I don't fit the profile. I'm a Jewish, Israeli grandmother, for God's sake. WHY would I be anywhere near explosives?

The security man looked through my things and said it was probably nothing, maybe the small package of wipes. I remained silent, still expecting hate. He said he needed to call the police over. He did. The German policeman asked for my passport and I handed it to him. He looked at it, looked at ME, and said it was fine. They closed my bag...no hatred. Breathe.

I boarded the plane for Copenhagen. My "safety" net was gone. I was no longer surrounded by fellow passengers from Israel, far from the guards of El Al. I was not, as I am often on my travels, alone. Isolated as a Jew, far from home and my people. At the gate to board my next flight, I handed over my boarding pass and my passport. The guard looked at it longer than I expected. Only seconds, but already I was waiting for hate. "Oh, you are from Israel," she said and then smiled and said, "So I can wish you a happy Rosh...Rosh Ha..."

"Rosh Hashana," I assisted her and thanked her and smiled back. No hatred. Breathe.

I landed in Denmark and had to take a cab to my Airbnb apartment. It was now well into the night and I wasn't going to risk walking on dark streets in a place I didn't know. That much, I will do for my daughter, who is worrying. Already, I am looking at the faces of the cab drivers as I wait my turn. Ethnic profiling is frowned upon in Europe; in my world, it saves lives. Without question, most of the cab drivers looked like Arabs. What should I do? Go off into the night? There, will I find more or less hatred than I might encounter?

The next cab pulls up, the couple in front of me were guided to that cab by an airport employee wearing a bright vest. The driver does not look like an Arab. Breathe. Hope. The next cab pulls up and the man gets out of the car and already I know he is an Arab. There is no question in my mind. He's very polite. Helps me put the bags in the car. I thank him and ask where I should sit - in the back or in the front. It's a country thing. In many countries, there is no question, you sit in the back.

In Israel, like Denmark, apparently you sit where you want. It's all acceptable. I told him I'd rather sit in the front, and I did. And of course, as we leave the airport, he asked me where I am from. You will not silence me. You will not take away my pride in my land. With a silent wish for forgiveness from my daughter, I respond. "I'm from Israel," and then after I took a breath, I asked, "is that a problem?"

He said no, it wasn't a problem and I asked him where he was from. He was born in Denmark, his parents are from Pakistan. And he did not show hate.

The opposite. He helped me find the apartment. Helped clear the confusion when we realized the apartment owner put the wrong address on Airbnb. He helped me find the key where the host had hidden it - around the building and in a dark place while my luggage stayed safe in his car. We arranged for him to pick me up and take me back to the airport. And he did not show hate.

The day is early. I have to leave in minutes for my meeting. Outside the window, people are bicycling to work, buses are going by, people are walking. I do not see hate and still, deep in my heart, I hold that fear.

It comes from two year...almost two years...of war and pain and fear and a sense of betrayal at the world who did not rise up to protect the Jews, again. Worse, again, they rose up to defend our attackers, to turn what they did to us into an accusation against what we are doing to them.

If we are committed genocide, we are the most inept people in the world and the stupidest. If your goal is to murder, do you warn people you are coming? Do you open humanitarian channels, funnel in food and medicine?

I promise you. We are not inept and we are not stupid. And we are not committing genocide. Yet the world believes. And so perhaps it is the world that is stupid and inept. Or worse, perhaps they want to be, want to believe that we are doing the world, the most inhumane of actions. Targeting innocents. Perhaps if the world can find us guilty, they can absolve themselves of their guilt? 

It's a beautiful day in Copenhagen. It would seem the people here have not a problem in the world. Denmark is ranked as one of the happiest countries in the the world. Then again, so is Israel.

So I will put on my shoes and see if hate will yet come to me today.