Healing Trauma: Perceptions And Attitudes, 4

I have a friend who has lived with military conflict all his life. He is old now, and in order to respect his privacy I will write nothing that would identify him. He is a Jew who lives in Israel. We have spoken at length about the ongoing struggle between Jews and Palestinians. He doesn't take a solid position but mourns that no one is willing to compromise. This does seem like an unresolvable conflict and I am not going to pretend to know the answers. I am concerned about my friend. He is a very kind and generous soul and one who makes friends easily. I also have noted in our conversations a very negative cast about how he seems to view humanity. This I understand to be part of the fallout of living in a war zone. This is a clear manifestation of collective trauma. Imagine, all those decades living in a country that has to fight for its survival on land that has been stolen from others who languish now in squalor, in refugee camps and also have to fight for their survival. imagine devoting years with trying to heal this, to move for reconciliation or for mutual accommodation, and no one wants to listen to anyone. Never knowing when your head is going to get blown off, or people you love will get killed, while dealing with your own conscience that you are living on stolen land and that others are having to suffer now because of your government's policies. Here in Canada, if you are not aboriginal, or poor, it has been very easy to be seduced and won over by our current telegenic prime minister and his "sunny ways." I call Justin Trudeau, our current prime minister, or our rent boy on Sussex Drive, "Junior" for the simple reason that if his sophisticated international philosopher-playboy daddy hadn't been prime minister of Canada for fourteen years, then Justin would probably still be teaching English classes at an elite boys' school on the west side of Vancouver. I have nothing against either Trudeau, sonny or daddy. Pierre, in my opinion, was one of the best prime ministers in my lifetime, and I have high hopes for his darling and almost ridiculously pretty son. (Junior was born on Christmas Day, by the way, but let's not rub it in, eh?) However, they are both children and grandchildren of privilege. Neither one knows, or ever will know, what it's like to be marginalized, discriminated against, poor, vulnerable to police harassment, or unlikely to gain adequate housing, education or employment. Their mouths are full of silver spoons. And even though I am a white male Canadian, I have never been ever to cash in on so-called "White Privilege." I didn't have any of the advantages of the Trudeau's, and not having a head for business or entrepreneurship, I have had to settle for what to many would appear to be a very reduced and compromised quality of life. (I'm, not complaining or feeling sorry for myself by the way, since things have still turned out very well for me.) Unlike my Israeli friend, I do not have a sour or negative view of humanity. I have never had to live in a war zone. And the most important people in my life are themselves generous, positive and warm loving souls. And they haven't had it easy either. My Israeli friend calls this country "Paradise". He lived here for a while. I think I know what he means.