Since the events of October 7, 2023, hope and despair seem to have been dancing a cynical tango among us Israelis, toying daily with our emotions. Throughout the war, the Jewish people have undergone countless psychological and emotional phases, both personally and collectively.
Even now that a ceasefire agreement has been signed, it feels foolish to believe that it will be upheld, based on past experiences. Nevertheless, it is a huge relief to have a pillar on which to lean, a symbol that change could occur.
Considering what we as a nation and as individuals have endured, we must ask ourselves what our main source of motivation to create a better future should be – hope or despair? The answer, of course, is somewhere in between. Understanding this aspect of human experience through the lens of the war can shed light on why we feel the way we do, and how to turn these feelings into action.
As found in academic research, there are various types and circumstances of hope, all of which have different implications for the person hoping and for the hoped-for prospect.
Understanding states of hope and despair
Hope and despair can be interpreted as emotions or psychological states. In its most basic form, hope is described in academic literature as the combination of desire and probability, which form a positive and welcoming attitude toward an external factor. This external factor is what ultimately determines the realization of the hoped-for prospect.
Despair is described similarly, but with a negative and dreading attitude toward the external factor. Meaning, one does not have control over the obtainment of the hoped-for (or despaired of) prospect. Therefore, hope and despair exist only in the face of uncertainty. One cannot hope for something already definite or certain, nor can one despair of something that is unchangeable.
Despite the differences, these two notions aren’t quite opposites. If hope serves as a source of motivation, is despair a source of discouragement? Not necessarily. Despair is a dialectical counterpart to hope. It does not equal hopelessness nor paralysis; rather, hope and despair shape and contain each other.
As hope is typically future oriented, it runs the risk of leading to indifference instead of action. That is because utopian expectations, which disregard how they may be realized, could easily lead to disillusionment, which in turn contains despair and pain.
Despair acts as a more practical source of critique and agency, and its power comes from the insistence on present change rather than future dreams. Despair creates space for critical engagement, and that is where it contains hope.
How hope plays out in Israel
In order to better grasp the emotional roller-coaster Israelis have been going through during the war, several different types of hope as defined in academic research need to be explained.
“Sound hope” is careful, rational, and based on collected evidence, as some may have experienced during the various ceasefires and hostage releases. “Resolute hope” rises against the odds, stemming from the belief that there must be a better alternative, without presenting a solid plan. Some may have felt this during more difficult times, such as the release of hostage videos or the news of yet another fallen soldier.
As the ground invasion in Gaza escalated, some may have experienced “patient hope,” which relies on the journey and process toward obtainment, with a strong sense of destiny and little regard for urgency or clarity.
“Transformative hope” is directed toward a better society, relying on the power of collective human action and agency to create a positive future. This may have been fostered by soldiers on the battlefield or by civilians participating in political and social activities and protests.
Finally, “radical hope” is especially needed at a time when all sense of purpose and meaning has collapsed, such as at the start of the war. Under such circumstances, the traditional ways of perceiving right and wrong are no longer relevant. Radical hope is directed toward a positive future that is vague and unknown to those who possess it, anticipating a good outcome for which they lack the appropriate concepts and means to imagine.
I do not wish to live in a society without hope, as I believe it would quickly slip into a meaningless pit of despair. Yet we mustn’t forget that hope, to some extent, has blinded us, allowing Hamas to plan and execute its heinous attack. Hope that leads to indifference and inaction will cause a fatal blow to Israel’s future, so we must hope wisely. It must be balanced with a significant sense of despair in order to instigate change.
A society that does not succumb to either end of this spectrum but rather recognizes the complexities of life and leverages them to cultivate each other is a society with a future that I want to be part of. We need to lean on a kind of hope that is careful yet constant, near-future oriented but bold, that has capacity for both individual and collective action. Our hope must be rooted and driven by the despair of our reality, as a tangible reminder of why it must urgently translate into actions, as opposed to fantasies.
The Mishna instructs us to “know from where you come, and where you are going, and before whom you are destined to give an account and reckoning.” This quote precisely conveys the balance of notions that will serve as fertile ground for rebuilding our society, if we only choose to seize it. The way I see it, we are coming from despair and going toward hope, while destined to give an account and reckoning to our future generations.
The writer is a second-year student of education and political science at the Hebrew University and an active reservist who enjoys contemplating.