My two brothers were older and bigger, but that did not keep me from harassing them. I would pester them, sneak up on them, spy on them, throw pillows at them and thump them on the head and run. Eventually they would lose their temper and take out after me. If my timing was perfect, just as we rounded a corner they would get caught clobbering me in front of Mom and Dad. Being five years younger than Larry and ten years younger than Stan, I could usually get them in trouble for hurting me. Of course, my parents caught on quickly and began scolding me for provoking my brothers.
When it comes to Hamas and Israel, the international community and press is not as quick as my parents. Hamas lobs hundreds of rockets into Israel; day after day they are warned to stop. But they don’t. Like my pestering, the rockets don’t do tons of damage, but they do keep many Israelis dashing to bomb-shelters and living in fear. Eventually Israel says, “Enough!” and orders its jets to strike back at Hamas and fire missiles at the launch sites of the rockets.
The only thing louder than the whine of the incoming missiles is the whine of Hamas as it complains to the press about Israeli aggression and its disproportionate response. Indeed, the response of Israel is disproportionate—more Palestinians have died than Israelis. And like me hoping to get hit right in front of parents, Hamas hopes civilians will be killed in front of TV cameras. Therefore they launch their rockets from the tops of apartment building, schools, and hospitals. Hamas may report seven fighters killed and two civilians, but cameras, and even CNN, will only show the civilians or children who are killed.
Demanding that Israel’s response be proportionate is idiocy. It is like me slapping a professional boxer 25 times, being continually warned to stop, and then getting my nose broken by one punch. Yes, that nose-crunching punch was disproportionate to my slaps, but (Do we need to say this?) well-deserved. Yet, we see resolutions condemning Israel for breaking the nose of Hamas every time we see it playing this game.
In my grade school, my mother taught 4th grade and had a bratty kid named Johnny who would not stop picking on this little kid named Billy Badger. During recess, Johnny once again punched Billy and took off running and laughing. Billy, however, exploded in anger, ran Johnny down, sat on top of him and rained down punches on his face. My Mom, on playground duty that recess, slowly walked over to them, giving Billy a few more moments to express himself to Johnny. Johnny was now crying and whining to my mom, “Make him get off me.” My mom said, “Well, Johnny, you should stop hitting and picking on Billy if you don’t want this kind of thing to happen. Are you going to stop?” Sniveling, Johnny said yes and my mother told Billy Badger to get off him. Johnny continued to be a brat—but did leave Billy alone.
I hereby nominate my mom for Secretary General of the United Nations. I suspect, however, that any teacher who has done playground duty or any mother that has raised three boys would see through the bratty game Hamas is playing.
