Author Ayelet Gundar-Goshen writes to challenge fear and prejudice, taking a humanist perspective on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Her new novel is a plea for empathy and self-reflection.

At first it felt barbaric to be writing a book after October 7, 2023, Israeli author Ayelet Gundar-Goshen said, "especially while we have the hostages kept there, away from their families in Israel, and destruction going on in Gaza -- and you will allow yourself the privilege of escaping into a different world, into a world made of your own words? It felt wrong."

Then came the turning point that dispelled her hesitations: when Israeli government officials called for a boycott of books and films that portray Palestinians in a human way. "For me, this was a moment where I thought, 'Wait a minute. The right wing, the fascists, are scared of words. They truly believe that words can change something.' I thought, 'Well, if fascists fear words so much, then maybe it can also be used as a weapon,'" she said. "Not to escape reality with words, not as escapism -- quite the contrary: as a way to face reality."

Gundar-Goshen then resumed work on her most recent novel, which she had begun long before: It was published in German this summer under the title "Ungebetene Gäste" (Uninvited Guests).

In the novel, an Israeli toddler drops a hammer from a balcony, killing a teenage boy. A Palestinian construction worker who had been working on that balcony is arrested. The little boy's mother remains silent. What follows is a drama about guilt, denial and revenge -- a mirror of Israeli society, which Gundar-Goshen sees as trapped in a fatal cycle of fear of the "Other."

Gundar-Goshen isn't just a novelist; she's also a psychotherapist. In her writing, she traces hidden mechanisms -- ones she has also discovered in herself. A few years ago, while she was a young mother, she had a Palestinian laborer working in her home. Suddenly a news report came on: A Palestinian worker had murdered his Israeli employer. "The room became charged with fear," she said. "Like, you can smell the fear. And, after a minute, I realized he's scared of me just as much as I'm scared of him, because he knows that I can call the Israeli police and say, 'Listen, I have a worker here and I don't feel safe.' They'll come in two minutes and take him."

Her novel illuminates hidden psychological dynamics that are shaping everyday Israeli-Palestinian life. "The fact that you think of yourself as a potential victim," Gundar-Goshen said, "makes you ready to be an aggressor."

She carries her therapist's perspective over into her work as a writer: not judging, but rather trying to understand why people act as they do. "I'm thinking about how difficult it is for people to acknowledge at the same time the terrible trauma of October 7 -- which cannot be justified, never can be justified -- but at the same time to acknowledge the terrible trauma committed right now towards the Palestinians, while the trauma to the hostages' families continues. It is as if one side has to be deleted in order for people to be able to stand."

Gundar-Goshen is fairly alone in extending empathy to both sides. Voices like hers are drowned out in the global noise of an ideologically overheated debate -- fought at times with violence, but more often with protests, political litmus tests, the canceling of artists, intellectuals and musicians from either side.

In Israel, the kind of critical self-reflection Gundar-Goshen practices has virtually no chance of making a breakthrough -- yet that's what makes it all the more important. She says she's trying to explore her own blind spots, "And quite often I find that my blind spots are universal blind spots that we have," she says. "If we do not go through this painful moment of truly looking at ourselves in the mirror, we will never be able to change anything."

Gundar-Goshen regularly takes part in demonstrations against Netanyahu's government, for the return of the hostages= and for an end to the war. Writing, for her, can also be an act of resistance -- but she said insufficient on its own. "I'll say: No, this is not enough," she said. "And you have to combine your legs in the street, your shouting in the street and your writing hand -- and your entire body has to work in this."

She has not given up hope for reconciliation. "I'm not pessimistic -- because I'm thinking," she said. "I'm looking at history. I'm looking at the fact that I'm in Berlin right now: OK, we're having this interview in Berlin, and, if I told my grandparents a few years ago that I would be sitting here talking with you, then they wouldn't believe it, right? Things can change in history. They can so easily change for the worse. But things can also change for the better."

As Gaza war continues, an Israeli author dissents in print