We live in a world defined by who won and who lost.

Sports, the academic world, business, politics—all revolve around competition in which a winner and loser must be decided. It’s a fine way to do things, I’m sure many will agree, but in reality it isn’t always easy to declare victory or defeat. Sometimes you lose even when you win. In war, for example, everyone loses.

Perhaps you think that’s a gross generalization. Glancing up from the pages of history books, it is sometimes easy to say that the Allies won WWII or that the English trounced the Chinese in the Opium Wars. But even when one army stands upon the remains of another, having obviously destroyed the other side’s ability to make war, the cost is always too great to declare complete victory.

And as warfare has become more complex than two lines of soldiers facing off, so has the task of picking the victor. Did one side pick up land? Defend their territory? How many deaths? What was the world response? Was the war “just”? What was gained? The answers don’t always come easily, and in nearly all instances, the consensus is never unanimous.

Such is the case of this summer’s Israel-Hezbollah conflict that spanned 34 days and claimed the lives of thousands. While some would have you believe the conflict was an ideological battle between Muslims and Jews, the truth is that people on both sides of the Israel-Lebanon border were united by the most terrible of circumstances.

It is with this in mind that we bring you the stories of two University at Buffalo students who found themselves on opposite sides of the war. Daphna Zilber and Hassan Shibly shared similar experiences from their respective hometowns, and their summer trials show that no matter what your political opinion may be, war strikes us all in the same way.

Perhaps because “terrorism” has become a catchphrase that applies to all warfare not involving clearly defined nation-states, the Western world watched this conflict unfold with interest. The result was a deluge of information, none of which turned out to be terribly helpful to those wondering what was really happening on the ground. There have been wildly varying opinions on the causes, events, and ramifications of the conflict, and as tensions continue to simmer, it is unlikely there will be a simple summary of the war that everyone can agree on anytime soon.

That is why we have brought you two profiles, not just one, from students who are standing on different ends of the spectrum. They viewed the war close up from either side, and to them, the war meant different things. But in the end, they were both civilians trying to help their neighbors and make the best out of the worst situation.

Shibly and Zilber may not always agree with one another, but all of their sentiments are backed up by personal experiences few students their age have had. And oftentimes they are both right, even when they disagree.

If there’s one thing the past three years (or 100) have taught us, it’s that there’s really no such thing as a “good” war. Even WWII, considered to be the noblest of twentieth century conflicts, destroyed European infrastructure and caused hardship that lasted for decades. While the tribulations the common American faces are far less serious, seeing as we don’t fight wars on our own soil anymore, the war in Iraq still seems to make it into our everyday lives. And if you think you hate/love the war now, imagine how you would feel if a bomb fell on your neighbor’s house tomorrow. Or yours.

So, this week’s issue is not to highlight the rift in opinion when it comes to the Middle East or the differences between the people who live there. Rather, it is an affirmation that, no matter how impossible it may seem to come to terms with one another, we are all human beings. And when war comes knocking, it is more important to remember your fellow man than to argue over who won and who lost.

See you all in three weeks, when we’ll be putting out our Fall Fiction issue. Stay tuned and send submissions to sbi-generation@buffalo.edu.