We are again in a new place. What has happened in Israel the past week is different. I have spent much of my life as you have, hearing regular reports of fighting in the Mideast, so when news broke last Saturday of what was happening near Gaza my mind started to process it as a continuation of the past. Within hours, as the facts of the October horror began to emerge, I understood no, wait, this is a new thing. And I felt a foreboding.
We must start with what was done. Terrorists calling themselves a resistance movement passed over the border from Gaza and murdered little children; they took infants hostage as they screamed. They murdered old women, tormented and raped young women, targeted an overnight music festival and murdered the unarmed young people in cold blood or mowed them down as they ran screaming. They murdered whole families as they begged for their lives; they burned people alive; they decapitated babies.
There is no cause on earth that justifies what these murderers did. There is no historical grievance that excuses or “gives greater context” to their actions. Spare me “this is the inevitable result when a people are long abused.” No, this is what happens when savages hold the day: They imperil the very idea of civilization. They killed a grandmother and uploaded pictures of her corpse to her Facebook
page. They cut an unborn child from a mother’s body and murdered both.
This wasn’t “soldiers morally brutalized by war who, in a frenzy, butchered people.” Butchering people was the aim. It is what they set out to do. This wasn’t cruelty as an offshoot; it was cruelty as an intention.
This sadism was strategic. It’s meant to force something.
I have been troubled by, angered by, Israel for years—expanding settlements, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s high-handedness with American political leaders, his party’s embrace of an ignorant populist nationalism. I feel no shame at this and am certain I am right. But you can’t see what we have seen this week and not feel—how to put it?—a reawakened sense of affiliation with this suffering people, a sympathy reborn; as an American Catholic I am experiencing it as a renewed sense of loyalty to kin. And if you can’t feel any of these things, or appreciate how they might be justified, and if you instead use this occasion to say Israel deserves it as the price of its sins—sorry, wrong word, they don’t even know what sin is—then you are a walking, talking moral void.
I’m not going to dwell on The Squad, or the Ivy League student groups that declared support for Hamas. Except to say, about the latter, we seem to be raising a generation whose most privileged and educated members appear to be incapable of making moral distinctions. They made me think of the Oxford Union vow, in 1933, not to fight for king and country: High-class dopes always get it wrong. In Oxford’s defense, when World War II came many of them did their part. These guys are apparently upset they might not get jobs on Wall Street. What cold little clowns.
I will only quickly say of Mr. Netanyahu that I think of him as I thought of Boris Johnson, a bad man who is bad because he thinks politics now is beyond bad and good; you don’t even have to make a choice, there’s nothing in being “good”; it’s all about you and your quest for power and greatness. It never occurs to them not to be selfish because the self is all. This is how he divided his country over domestic questions, alienated his armed forces, stigmatized functioning establishments, and left his country vulnerable to the epic intelligence and security failure that is now his legacy.
“Nothing is the same in Israel as it was two days ago,” read a Monday Haaretz headline on a column by Linda Dyan. “Everyone trusted that the state would protect us,” she wrote. Everyone thought Israel was as strong as in the past. But its enemies saw it wasn’t.
I am worried for Israel. Here I speak of my fears.
It is impossible to me the savagery was not the strategy. The sadism the terrorists delivered was intended to do something, elicit a particular response.
What? We can’t be sure, but there are many possibilities. Maybe the terrorists and Iran, their masters, want to leave Israel with no choice but to go at Hamas by pummeling, then taking and occupying Gaza. That will be a terrible battle—a wracking and, in the end, a hand-to-hand, door-to-door fight. Maybe the point is to bleed Israel there, focus it there, and allow the world in coming weeks and months to absorb the gruesome pictures that will surely follow, as innocent people, including children, are among the collateral casualties. Almost half the population of Gaza is under 18.
Maybe they hope to see Israel preoccupied in Gaza while they open second and third fronts, with Hezbollah moving in from Lebanon, or the West Bank suddenly engaged.
Here is what I hope: that Israel be deliberative, farsighted, cautious. If that means slow, then slow.
Caution isn’t rousing or bold, and it certainly isn’t satisfying. It doesn’t bestow on the grieving any sense of justice. But the famously dangerous neighborhood has never been more so, and one senses Israel’s enemies think this is their moment. Israel must make itself safer and move against Hamas without starting World War III.
The Israelis should reach out in every way, including diplomatically, in their grief. Is the peace deal with Saudi Arabia still gettable? Do everything to get it. Might Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman enjoy saving them? Let him.
They must look to internal stability and security—fortify, build up defense positions, firm up security and intelligence on the borders and internally. Replenish arms and ammunition, continue making arms available to the people. Israelis have to begin feeling secure in their homes again. Do everything possible to proceed in attempting a return of the hostages. Be frank about this.
Continue to unmuddy the moral waters. What Hamas did was stone evil. Tell the world and show the world, over and over.
For now they must bury the dead and mourn. But something else. There is something Israel has shown to a heroic degree each day since that terrible Saturday morning.
It has led with its heart.
On a Zoom call this week a man living with his family in Israel told Americans a story. One of the young women killed at the rave was from Brazil. Her mother and sister flew in for the funeral. But someone on WhatsApp sent out word, a fear that no one else would be there to mourn. So the man’s teenage son jumped in his car and drove, and he had to stop 25 minutes from the site, traffic at a standstill, because . . . 7,000 or 8,000 people showed up, having heard that the family might be alone. My eyes filled as I heard it, and fill again as I write.
What a people. Hearts like that can awe and move the minds of the world.