Is it right to take a tour down south?

Since 7 October, thousands have visited Israel to express their solidarity, which is appreciated, especially now. Many want to visit the south of the country to see the sites of the carnage. It’s understandable that people want to bear witness at the kibbutzim and other sites, including the Nova festival. But it must be understood that these are mass crime scenes, not tourist attractions. A new phenomenon has creeped in since 7 October – dark tourism.

The term “dark tourism” was coined in 1996 by two academics from Scotland: John Lennon and Malcolm Foley, who wrote the book Dark Tourism: The Attraction to Death and Disaster. Today, the term is generally used to describe travel to places that are historically associated with death and tragedy. Dark tourism is also sometimes called black tourism, thanatourism, or grief tourism.

We’re all grieving 7 October. For Israelis, as resilient as we may appear, there’s still a deep sense of trauma. For the residents of the communities and kibbutzim who lost their families, friends, and loved ones in the massacre or in kidnappings to Gaza, their grief is beyond what we can comprehend. It’s understandable that now, nearly 10 months later, the kibbutzim have closed themselves off to visitors. The Israel Defense Forces and members tightly control visits.

In the days, weeks, and first few months, journalists, certain influencers, and dignitaries were allowed into the kibbutzim to cover what we saw. I was part of one of these delegations, and witness to the devastation. The stench of death hung heavy in the air. Our purpose was to record history, bear witness, and document it because sadly, we have to prove that we were massacred, given the astronomic levels of gleeful denial. Denial, in spite of overwhelming evidence. As journalists, we understand the importance of this work, but there’s still a feeling of intruding on people’s grief and their private, sacred spaces. This wasn’t a massacre that happened a long time ago where time has taught us how to process and prepare for what we will see. The wounds are still raw, and will be for a while.

When my delegation, organised by the foreign affairs ministry, visited Kfar Aza, we had an “influencer” tagging along who took selfies. It made me sick to my stomach. We were metres away from where Ofir Libstein, the head of the Sha’ar HaNegev council, was slaughtered defending his community. Many of us knew Libstein through working with him on projects in the south. Each of these kibbutzim tells the story of horror, sorrow, heroism, and loss.

For many around the world, the distance has led to a feeling of helplessness, so coming to Israel gives a sense of doing something tangible. Nearly 10 months on, the kibbutzim are functional where they can be. Their residents remain evacuated, and many are debating whether to return. The IDF hasn’t given the all-clear to return. Recently, a cornerstone-laying ceremony was held to inaugurate a new neighbourhood in Kibbutz Be’eri. One of the hardest hit kibbutzim on 7 October, 101 people were murdered and more than 150 buildings destroyed. The new Shikmim neighbourhood will contain 52 homes.

Israel desperately needs tourism right now, so it’s understandable that tour guides will conduct tours to the south. It’s also important for people to see the magnitude of destruction because photos and footage don’t do justice to the scale of it. But the influencer selfie-snapper really disturbed me. Maybe I don’t understand the power of influencers, but it was sacred ground where our brothers and sisters were slaughtered and tortured in the most brutal way, not the place to perfect a photogenic pout. This is what many of us fear – that the sanctity of these places won’t be fully appreciated by some. It’s not far-fetched to feel that the devastated homes speak to you – they do.

Miri Gad Messika, a member of Kibbutz Be’eri, told Channel 12 that there were very difficult feelings on that day, with many residents and bodies still held hostage in Gaza, and that her home was burned down “so I don’t have anywhere to go back to. There’s no choice but to rebuild and move forward.”

“True rebuilding will happen only when the hostages return home – those murdered for burial, and those living for rehabilitation. Only then can we rise up from October 7,” Messika said. Do these communities really need tourists traipsing through their grief?

I don’t know if time will ever heal these wounds, but what I do know is that we need to take our cue from the survivors, and allow them the space and sensitivity to decide when it will be appropriate. They deserve nothing less.

Rolene Marks is a Middle East commentator often heard on radio and TV, and is the co-founder of Lay of the Land and the SA-Israel Policy Forum.