As Israel intensifies its military campaign and Gaza endures ongoing devastation, the voices of those directly affected by this war are more important than ever. In October 2023, Hala Al-Bukhari, a Palestinian from Jerusalem, lost her sister and 33 family members in the war on Gaza. Liat Atzili, an Israeli from Nir Oz, lost her … Continue reading [WEBINAR] Meet the Newly Bereaved: Our Shared Pain and Purpose
Following the Joint Israeli-Palestinian Memorial Ceremony, on April 29, join us for a collective journey of reflection. This interactive program brings together people from around the world in a practice of re-imagination. After honoring our shared grief and humanity, where does our shared hope lead us? We will reflect together on themes such as land, … Continue reading [WEBINAR] Walking the Path of Pain and Possibility: A collective journey of reflection and re-imagination
The Joint Memorial Day Ceremony, organized by Combatants for Peace and The Parents Circle – Families Forum, is the largest Israeli-Palestinian jointly organized peace event in history. The Joint Memorial Ceremony provides a unique opportunity for Israelis and Palestinians to grieve together and stand strong in demanding an end to the occupation and ongoing violence. … Continue reading The 2025 Joint Israeli-Palestinian Memorial Day Ceremony
The local Likud party branch in Ra’anana organized a demonstration against the Remembrance Day event.
Facing both October 7 and Israel’s ongoing assault on Gaza, bereaved families sought to make space for shared grief — and insist on a different path forward.
Despite advance warning that right-wing activists were planning to protest outside the ceremony, there was only a small police force, including only one patrol car, when the violence began
With many bereaved families from the Gaza war, several have joined the Israeli-Palestinian Forum. Many will attend online, as the joint Memorial Day ceremony – held at a secret location due to far-right threats – seeks to show that Israelis and Palestinians can share both pain – and hope
Controversial joint Israeli-Palestinian event honoring the slain on both sides continues to grow, even in the shadow of the October 7 massacre and ongoing war in Gaza
I write these words from the deepest pain a human being can endure. Over the past year, I’ve lost 160 members of my extended family – men, women and children. All of them were civilians.
Rami Elhanan is Israeli, and Bassam Aramin is Palestinian. They live near each other but exist in separate worlds.
Around 23% said that friends or family members tried to convince them to cease their peace work, and 22% cited military restrictions as a major hindrance.
Feminism has long celebrated the victories of “firsts” – the first woman to lead, to land a spacecraft, to break barriers built by patriarchy. These are not small feats. But what happens when feminism becomes fluent in ambition and silent in agony?
I am Kholoud Houshiya and I live in the village of Al Yamun near Jenin. Originally my family is from Haifa. I wasn’t able to experience childhood due to the occupation, which forcibly displaced my family to Jenin under oppression and humiliation.
Later, I married and I gave birth to my first child, whom I named Mohammed. I raised him with all my love and effort.
Mohammed was a young man who loved life dearly, and he loved me even more. He was both my son and my friend, thanks to our close bond.
Mohamad was 23 years old. He worked in Israel and helped his father.
On January 2, 2024 Mohamed took a picture of the Israeli army tearing down my neighbor’s house. The army thought otherwise and they shot him. Just because he was Palestinian.
I always dreamed of seeing my son as a groom, just like any mother. But now, I am left with him buried in my garden. I had hoped to see him, his wife, and his children in my house, but now, every day, I look at his grave from the window in my room.
My message to the world is this: Enough. Enough killing, enough injustice, enough destruction, enough oppression. Enough violence on both sides.
It is not easy for a mother to recount the story of her son’s death—the pain is indescribable. I cannot bear the loss of another child. This is why we must raise the voice of the mothers for a better future for all children and young generations – Palestinians and Israelis.
I am Hala Al-Bukhari, living in Jerusalem.
My daughter, my sister and her large family, children and grandchildren live in Gaza. Despite the distance, before the war, I used to communicate with them daily, checking on their health via video call.
On the morning of October 7th, my son told me to watch TV to see what was happening in southern Israel. From that day, fear has overwhelmed my heart.
Then came the morning of October 18th, bringing the harsh news: My sister’s house was bombed, and she, her husband, her children, and grandchildren were in the house—33 innocent lives lost in this horrific massacre. Since then, my fear for my daughter has grown. I have pleaded with human rights organizations, seeking any means to get her out of the hell of war and the horror of the massacres. Eventually we succeeded to get my daughter out of Gaza.
With every word I write, I struggle to express the extent of my pain. Our hearts bleed with grief for those we have lost and continue to lose. Our sorrow is profound, and our souls yearn for the peace we all dream of.
Let us all live in peace and build a better future for our children. War brings only destruction and ruin to everyone involved, whether Palestinian or Israeli. It is always the innocent people who suffer the most.
I am Liat Atzili from Kibbutz Nir Oz.
My partner, Aviv and I built a life and a family in Nir Oz. We were an inseparable part of this little community, which fulfilled our aspirations and needs. Mine as an educator, and Aviv’s as a farmer and an artist.
On October 7th, our kibbutz was attacked, conquered, and destroyed by Hamas. A quarter of the residents were either killed or kidnapped, including me. The time I spent as a hostage in Gaza was of complete despair, unending fear for my friends and family, and long days. I was nervous that I wouldn’t survive.
After 54 days in captivity, I was returned home. The following day, my family and I were told that Aviv was killed on October 7th. Aviv had hundreds of friends, he traveled and created, and made the most of every opportunity; he truly loved life.In his final year, Aviv fulfilled many dreams, the greatest being to share his art publicly. While managing the kibbutz’s agricultural garage, he painted on tractor parts and scrap metal, blending his love for metals and the Negev fields into his creations. Our children looked up to him and I feel like I had the greatest privilege to share my life with him.
I always believed that war is not our destiny, and that any conflict, including ours, can be solved. This war has proven to me beyond a doubt that we cannot continue fighting, that we have no right to impose the continued suffering of war on future generations on either side. I am ready today, more than ever, to do everything in my power so that our children can live here in peace and security.
I am Mazen from Bethlehem. Many of my family members live in Beit Lahiya, Gaza. They lived in a beautiful house and went on about their lives, despite the siege.
It all stopped on October 10, 2024, when, my uncle, his three sons, and his son-in-law were outside near the house. Israeli aircraft targeted them with bombardment and gunfire. My aunt managed to bring their bodies into the house. With trembling hands, she was forced to gather what remained of them, unable for over a week to lay her husband and three sons to rest.
I cannot believe that so many of my family are dead, and that I cannot go there to help them and cry with them.
The depth of pain in Gaza is beyond description and cannot be fathomed by the human mind. How much longer will this hatred on both sides continue? How much longer will we endure this nightmare? All the Palestinian people desire is a dignified life free from occupation—a fundamental right, just like that of any other people in the world.
The suffering will not cease until we collectively seek pathways to peace and understanding. Revenge will not forge a shared future; we must strive to find common ground and solidarity. Let us unite for a brighter future for the generations to come, and let us raise our voices for peace, so that together we may end this cycle of violence and finally live in safety and harmony.
