14 minutes

When I come into Jerusalem - back from a day with Machsom Watch, from a trip to the north, when I decide the crazy driving of the sheirut drivers is too much and take the bus back from Tel Aviv instead - I come into the central bus station at the entrance to Jerusalem. When I get off the bus, the most direct route is to go through the central bus station to come out on Jaffa road, but I have to go through security into the bus station, only to leave it again, so I usually walk around the side of the station and around to the front of it. I cross over the tracks that are in place for the still not operational lightrail. I go down some stairs next to a construction site, through a tunnel where two or three homeless people are usually sleeping and a haredi man is asking for money. I go up another set of stairs, and wait by the bus stop where most of the major lines come through. I wait for the 71, 72, 74 or 75 bus, whichever comes first to take me through town and back to Bak'a.

This is the bus stop where a bomb left in a bag next to a telephone pole went off on Wednesday afternoon. The windows of the number 74 bus were blown out. A British tourist was killed and over 30 people were wounded. It is the first bomb to hit Israel since 2008.

When I heard about the attack, I was sitting in a cafe in Tel Aviv doing work. I had come to Tel Aviv earlier in the day for a few meetings in preparation for a seminar I was running on Thursday. I was checking my email when I saw an email from Hannah, an Israeli student at Hebrew U who I am working with on an educational outreach project to Jewish American students living in Israel about the Occupation. We ran a tour of East Jerusalem last Friday and have another one planned for next Friday. Some of the group were heading to Hebrew U on Wednesday afternoon to hand out fliers at an event. Hannah's email read:

Andrew, it seems like it's just us. Bashar said he can't come either, maybe Itamar will be there I'm not sure. At this point I'm not sure I will make it to the University, there was just a terrorist attack at the central bus station and the city is a mess. I'll call you later with update.
H

I read over the email and felt guilty that I wasn't able to go to the event and help them flier. I was distracted looking at wedding dresses online and talking with my best friend, who just got engaged. We were discussing whether or not one needs an equal number of bridesmaids and groomsmen, or if it's okay if there are more groomsmen (I still hold that one needs an equal number) when I reread Hannah's email and immediately went to the website of Ha'aretz, one of the major English-translation newspapers.

I followed the protocol Dorot had given us in the beginning of the year. While lecturing us about not going to Area A in the West Bank, they told us that in the event of an attack, we are to text or call both the staff members asap. At the beginning of the year it seemed silly, but I immediately texted them both saying, "I'm fine," then texted everyone I knew in Jerusalem, and everyone was fine.

Unsure how to react, I spent the next three hours sitting in the cafe, talking about wedding dresses and hitting refresh on the Ha'aretz website, the whole time wondering if I was being too American in the small, internal panic I was experiencing. All my Israeli friends have played it cool, responding to my texts and phone calls with, "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine" or "Well, back to normal Jerusalem."

At our Dorot seminar yesterday, we had a "space for feelings" conversation but were told not to make political statements. People went around the circle and talked about being scared, about not being scared, about questioning Zionism, about wanting the government to respond harshly, etc. I couldn't help but think, how can you have a conversation about terrorism without having a conversation about politics? Isn't wanting the government to respond harshly a political statement? Isn't questioning Zionism political? Can I say I am scared not only for myself but for how Israel is going to respond in the West Bank? Can I say that I don't believe that bombing a bus stop in Jerusalem is an effective or justifiable way to meet a goal, but that I think the Occupation should end and I can understand the frustration and anger that so many Palestinians carry with them? Can I say that I think the IDF inflicts terror on Palestinians on a daily basis and I don't want extremist groups of Palestinians to inflict it on Israelis or on me?

I've been feeling guilty for thinking so much about what this attack means for my day to day life. When I got back to Jerusalem yesterday, I got on a bus home, but felt nervous the entire ride. On Wednesday morning, right before I left for Tel Aviv, my roommate was listening to a piece by Nathan Englander. It is a podcast he recorded about living in Jerusalem at the start of the second Intifada. There are so many great lines in the podcast, which you can listen to here (if it doesn't work, email me and I'll send it to you) but the line that sticks with me is this:

"It's not about I'm a lefty. I want two states. I want East Jerusalem as Palestinian capital. This is not about Zionism or colonialism or territory. This is about my fucking neighborhood."

Things in Israel and Palestine have been heating up for almost a month now. A few weeks ago, a rocket from Gaza hit Be'ersheva, a big town in the desert in Israel. Three weeks ago, six Palestinians were shot but not killed by the IDF, just outside of Nablus. Two weeks ago a family in the settlement of Itamar in the West Bank was killed. The murderer has not yet been found, though the IDF continues to arrest Palestinians in the villages around Itamar. Settlers and Palestinians in the West Bank have been amping up stone throwing incidents. Earlier this week, another rocket hit Be'ersheva. On Wednesday, settlers in East Jerusalem harassed Palestinians on the street in a collective punishment response to the attack. On Wednesday, three more rockets hit Be'ersheva and one rocket hit just outside of Ashdod, a town south of Tel Aviv. The IDF has responded with air assaults in Gaza, bombing locations that Israeli intelligence believe to be weapon manufacturing sites. Earlier this week, in what the IDF calls an accident, an airstrike killed Palestinian children. Newspapers quote Israeli government officials as saying there will be another war in Gaza like the one in 2008, only bigger. Then they quote Israeli government officials saying that the other officials are wrong, Israel will respond with restraint.

I'm sorting out my feelings on this still. I feel angry, guilty, embarrassed, frustrated, scared and some more angry. But there is one thing that is underpinning all of this. The leaders and analysts and activists from both sides and in between are using this only to prove a point, to persuade us that they were right all along - "See, they say, all Palestinians don't really want peace." or "See, the Occupation is driving Palestinians to terrorism." So it seems that now, as a friend of mine summed up quite nicely, the elapsed time between an atrocity report and people making political capital of it is now under 14 minutes.