Seeing the Other Side

To sit in Eric Yellin's living room in Sderot, a town in southern Israel less than two miles from the border with Gaza, is an unnerving experience. The windows rattle every couple of minutes and loud blasts of artillery fire thunder in the distance. Yellin, who has grown used to it since the Israeli invasion began in the Gaza Strip almost three weeks ago, doesn't flinch. "I'm not worried about myself," he shrugs, glancing out at the deserted street. "I just hope that what they're bombing is empty and that no one's hurt. I'm worried about my friend in Gaza."

For the past year, Yellin, who is 43, has been using the pseudonym "Hope Man" to write a blog with a Palestinian who lives in the Gaza Strip. His Gazan counterpart goes by the name "Peace Man," and doesn't want to be identified for his own safety and that of his family. Last year, as tensions between the two sides intensified, the friends created gaza-sderot.blogspot.com as a way of showing the world that, even in times of extreme conflict, reconciliation can exist. Peace Man, a young student, writes of his frustration at not being able to leave Gaza to continue his studies, and of shortages in basic supplies, such as water and food. Yellin blogs about living under the constant threat of rocket attacks and fear for his children's safety.

The two met in Jerusalem in 2006 at a grassroots gathering of Palestinians and Israelis sponsored by the Center for Emerging Futures. It was Peace Man's first time outside the narrow confines of Gaza; Yellin recalls that he seemed cagey and abrasive. "If the idea is to just sit around and talk," the Gazan announced, "I'm out of here." But they ultimately struck up a friendship, and since then have met on six different occasions. Still, as Israeli closure on the Gaza Strip tightened, face-to-face meetings became increasingly rare. To keep the dialogue going, a group of Israelis from Sderot and Palestinians from Gaza began weekly phone calls to each other—a dialogue that became a forerunner to their blog.

Yellin, a computer programmer, moved to the town 20 years ago. "Sderot seemed quiet and secluded and I really didn't think about the million-and-a-half Palestinians living in such close proximity to me," he says. That changed in 2002, when Hamas began launching rockets into Israel. With Sderot on the front line, Yellin, his wife and their three children adjusted to the reality of constant fear and tension. Still, he says: "I began to feel there was no justification to ignore the suffering of my Palestinian neighbors. People told me it was a waste of time, that the other side doesn't want to listen. But I felt sure that opening some kind of dialogue, however fragile, was possible. We've created a shift—maybe not a change of views, but an image of someone on the other side as a person."

When the Israeli incursion began almost three weeks ago, Peace Man's blog entries were curtailed after electricity to Gaza was cut. Now they make do with sporadic phone calls and text messages. When power returned temporarily, a few days later, Peace Man wrote a hasty entry:

Since then, phone calls between the two have slowed, although Yellin makes a point of texting his friend on a daily basis. Sometimes Peace Man texts him back with a brief, "Thanks, I'm O.K." But mostly there is silence. For now the Gazan is staying put in a three-room apartment with around 20 other family members. His office, where he works as an educator, was bombed last week, and an entire family next door to his house was wiped out by another air strike. "There is no room in a text message to say all this," he said in a phone call with NEWSWEEK last week, "so I just write 'OK'." Peace Man said he appreciates Yellin's concern, and worries about his Israeli friend: "When I hear about rocket attacks on the radio, I pray my friend is safe."

Standing alone on the roof of his house, careful that others, including close family members, are not listening to his conversation, Peace Man vowed not to give up his friendship with Yellin, despite the real danger he faces from Hamas militants if caught. The Gazan didn't vote for Hamas in the 2006 Palestinian elections, but some of his colleagues did. "I'm doing this for our future," he said, pausing as Israeli fighter planes swooped over the area. "We must show the world that dialogue between real people continues to exist, despite everything." Gunfire rings out and the phone call comes to an abrupt halt. The ceasefire, for now, still seems a long way off.