And the only thing scarier than what is going on is that the Israeli leadership is directly responsible for the situation. Their lives hang on the whims of the Israeli government and its agents. They aren’t just facing harassment and violence from Israeli settlers and soldiers in the West Bank and increasingly inside Israel proper, but also from police and other security officials. Palestinians, I hear, are also scared shitless. It is happening spontaneously all over the place, not just in Jerusalem or settlements, but inside the heart of 1948 Israel. This time there are no sirens to warn you of an oncoming attack, and no Iron Dome to thwart the stabbings. It’s much worse than the 2014 summer, when I gave birth to my first son amid sirens, daily Israeli casualties, and the massive death and destruction of Palestinians in Gaza being carried out in my name. But because this is the effect of terror, plain and simple - the feeling that you could be targeted at any moment, anywhere. Not because I necessarily think something will happen. Even in my bubble in Jaffa, where things are ostensibly calm, where Jews and Palestinians walk and work side by side in a shared space, where my son spends time in playgrounds with Palestinian and Jewish kids who have Palestinian and Jewish nannies, I find myself looking over my shoulder.
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