A Childhood Steeped in Hatred
I was born Iman Abu in the Gaza Strip to a Palestinian Muslim family. My grandfather planted the seeds of hatred in me from a very young age. When I was just three years old, he told me the Jews had stolen our land in Jaffa and that when I grew up, I must murder them to take it back. This vile indoctrination continued through my childhood. My father worked in Israel for 27 years, yet still thanked God whenever he heard of Jews being murdered. There was no kindergarten, so we children played outside, surrounded by Israeli soldiers. One day, a soldier gave me a piece of candy – a sweet taste that was the only kindness I knew from Jews. When I turned six, my life took a horrific turn. In the market, I witnessed a severed head rolling on the ground like a ball. Looking up, I saw people hung from electric poles, dismembered by the screaming crowd chanting “Allah Akbar.” These were Arabs suspected of collaborating with Israel, brutally executed. This shocking scene of inhumanity was my new reality.
An Education in Violence
At the UN school, our math lessons taught us how many Jews we had killed and how many were left to murder. The teachers commanded us to throw stones at the Israeli soldiers guarding the nearby army base. “Yahudi” – meaning “Jew” – was a slur spat out like a curse word. We were trained to see Jews as sub-human traitors deserving of death. The deeper I descended into this cult of hatred, the more contrived it became. I realized Hamas was staging scenes of injured children to gain international sympathy, lying about Israeli attacks to secure supplies. They ruled through fear and violence against their people. As I grew older, I recognized the escalating pattern of violence – from stones to knives, to bombs and missiles. Each new generation was indoctrinated into more extreme hatred and tactics to wipe Israel off the map. We even sang songs praising Saddam Hussein, hoping he would attack America.
An Escape from the Cycle
Looking back, it seems almost impossible that I could have emerged from such a childhood of hatred with any semblance of humanity. The truth is harsh and disturbing, but denying it allows this evil ideology to spread. I was raised on a steady diet of racism, violence, and the dehumanization of Jews from infancy. It shaped my entire worldview. Escaping that brainwashing was the greatest struggle of my life. But I broke free, left Gaza, converted to Judaism, and changed my name to Dror. My story is one of unimaginable darkness, but also one of hope – that even among the deepest, most systemic hatred, a human soul can awaken to the truth. I share these painful realities because hiding from them only perpetuates the cycle. The world must understand the generational indoctrination citizens of Gaza endure, the fear Hamas instills, and the lies they propagate to the world. Only then can we have a real conversation about building lasting peace. I am living proof that change is possible, no matter how bleak the circumstances may seem.
