Showing posts with label Israeli-Palestinian Conflict. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Israeli-Palestinian Conflict. Show all posts

Monday, December 3, 2018

Recap: Jewish New Media Summit 2018

Hanging with Motti Seligson of Chabad and Howard Feldman of his own awesomeness and ChaiFM.
I was privileged to be invited to the 2018 Jewish New Media Summit this past week in Israel. I left on Thursday, November 22nd, got to Israel in time for Shabbat the next day, slept all of Shabbat, and then got to conferencing on Sunday, November 25th through Wednesday, November 28th. Here's a quick recap of each day:


  • Day One: The opening night began in Zedekiah's Cave with some yummy-looking food I mostly couldn't eat (gluten, sigh). The weird thing about this venue was that, well, we're the media and influencers and bloggers and there was no cellular or wi-fi available. Nothing like throwing a bunch of media folk in a cave without the ability to relay what's going on to the rest of the world. We listened to Michael Oren go on and on about how amazing Donald Trump is and then got a stellar comedic presentation by Avi Liberman. The evening ended with a truly bizarre performance by Voca People (so much talent, way too much shtick). Bedtime? Roughly 10 something p.m.
  • Day Two: The first full day of the conference was filled with back-to-back speakers and presentations starting at 8 a.m. Again, in a space with not great wi-fi. This day was probably one of the most informative, mostly thanks to a talk gave by journalist Matti Friedman, which I'll talk more about in a bit. Then, we packed up and moved on to dinner, followed by a special viewing of the new light show at David's Tower, which was absolutely incredible. While everyone took a mini tour and got their drink on, I went down to the Kotel for an incredibly moving evening before hitting the sack around 1 a.m.
  • Day Three: I was supposed to go on an Old City tour, but I ended up in Tel Aviv touring some pretty exceptional places, including Start-Up Nation Central HQ. Then, we got a private, delicious tour of the Carmel Market, where there are shockingly plenty of kosher places, including the most delicious hummus place I've ever been to in my life. The new trend? Hamshuka! Stay tuned for more on that tour in another post. The evening ended at a club where there was no food for me to eat, so I cut out early because, well, it wasn't my cup of tea. 
  • Day Four: The day started at President Ruvi's house, which was pretty awesome, because the President of Israel is basically like the grandfather you always wanted. We then went on to the Knesset, where we got a beautiful tour of Chagall Hall and then got a huge surprise: Bibi, who was supposed to show up the first day, showed up at Knesset! The best part? He answered our questions like a truly real, honest, transparent person. Then? I as he left, I asked him if he'd take a photo with me, to which he said "No," followed by a quick, "Okay, quickly." Brilliant!
So most of my takeaways come from Days Two and Day Three, a lot of this based on what Matti Friedman had to say followed by tropes that continued over the next few days. The three major takeaways for me were these: 
  1. The conflict narrative was crafted, and journalists place facts into that narrative and make them fit. Whether the facts are positive or negative, they fit into the narrative by the will of the press. The problem? The press fancy themselves activists these days. The world doesn't need activists, it needs facts and an honest narrative seated in history. As Matti Friedman says, if a reporter is sent to cover what is meant to be a major protest and only three people are there, the journalist has to fit the facts into the narrative, so the lede will read: "A small, but vocal group of protestors ..." I'm going to be uploading some of his talk a bit later, so stay tuned. 
  2. Diaspora Jews, especially liberals and younger Jews, have more exclamation points than question marks, and more information than knowledge. Israel's primary focus right now is to help Diaspora Jewry turn its exclamation points into question marks and to turn information into knowledge. Questions and knowledge are the key to truth, and they're two areas that need so much more work.
  3. Anti-Zionism has become the proxy for antiSemitism. It's safer and more people can get away with it because the assumption is that anti-Zionism is about the state and not the people who run the state. But it's merely become a socially acceptable substitute for antiSemitism. Can you be anti-Zionistic without being antiSemitic, you'll ask? As there are plenty of Jews who are anti-Zionism. But think back to America and Europe leading up to World War II. There were plenty of Jews born of a higher class who sought to hide their Jewishness and even berate the shtetl-dwelling Jew as lesser and "bad for the Jews." So, it's basically that, but all over again. And in that case, no matter how upper crust and wealthy and removed from the shtetl you were, once Hitler rose to power, you were on the level with every other Jew on the planet. Perhaps Jews who are anti-Zionistic are trying to self preserve under the guise of nobility and human rights, but as history has shown, Jews who battle other Jews never succeed. 
Hanging out at Start-Up Nation Central HQ!

Here are some of the additional takeaways/interesting tidbits that have stuck with me: 
  • There are more journalists stationed in Israel to cover the "conflict" than there are stationed in the whole of Africa or China or India. This is pretty shocking/appalling/disgusting, consider the following reality.
  • The truth of the matter is that the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is small peanuts and a blip on the radar of the larger problem. Matti Friedman explained this masterfully: If magically, tomorrow, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict resolved and there was peace or not peace, two states, or one, Arabs and Muslims would still be killing each other. The Syrian war wouldn't magically end. Hamas and ISIS wouldn't just disappear. People make the "conflict" out to be so much bigger than it is, and this is the biggest part of the problem and the biggest missing piece of the narrative.
  • The diaspora is a necessity. There is no longer a push for every Jew to pick up and make Aliyah. As a result of this, Israel sees itself playing a much more pressing role in Diaspora safety, Israel education, and so on. 
  • Israel is concerned about the rate of ignorance of world Jewry about its own Jewishness, Israel, and the Hebrew language. At the same time, Israelis are growing more and more ignorant about Diaspora Jewry, and as such are beginning “reverse birthright” experiences. 
The Israeli Knesset (parliament) 
The interesting thing about all of these takeaways is that, while true, I can't begin to see how sweeping change can occur. It's not an overnight thing, but we live in a world where people see the facts that they want to see and they fit them into the narrative they've been given. So, those who believe Arab Muslims are an abused minority in Israel will continue to find the facts that fit that narrative within their own personal echo chamber, and it doesn't matter how many people speak out and say "Hey! We have full rights in Israel and love it here!" it's not going to change a single mind. 

Additionally, I think that the narrative is too deeply implanted. Israel is a mere 70 years old, but the narrative of a conflict as old as time itself, which just isn't true, is more sexy than talking about something that started up in the 1960s and is complicated because it involves the larger Arab world, Russia, America, and Europe. 

How does re-education begin? That's my question. It can't come from Israel. It can't come from Jews. People who have bought into the narrative of their echo chamber can't hear the facts and information and turn them into knowledge if they're coming from people like me. So how does it start? Who is responsible? 

As we get closer and closer to 100 years out from the blossoming of Nazism and World War II and the subsequent rise of anti-Zionism as a proxy for anti-Semitism, I grow afraid and weary. When little boys walking down the street are getting beat up for being Jewish and anti-Semitic incidents are on the rise at alarming rates, I wonder who will step up and re-educate and re-inform the masses so history doesn't repeat itself. 

Find the Chaviva!
Overall, the best part of the entire experience was the connections and re-connections I got to make. Also, I've got bucketloads of pictures up on Instagram and Facebook, and lots of live Tweets from the conference itself. 

Monday, September 17, 2018

Ari Fuld, and Living it All on Loan

There is a Midrash on Proverbs 31:10, and it goes like this:
Beruriah was the learned and compassionate wife of Rabbi Meir. While Rabbi Meir was teaching on a Shabbat afternoon, both of his sons died from the plague that was affecting their city. When Rabbi Meir returned home, he asked his wife, “Where are our sons?” She handed him the cup for havdalah and he said the blessing. Again he asked, “Where are our sons?” She brought food for him, and he ate. When he had finished eating, Beruriah said to her husband, “My teacher, I have a question. A while ago, a man came and deposited something precious in my keeping. Now he has come back to claim what he left. Shall I return it to him or not?” Meir responded, “Is not one who holds a deposit required to return it to its owner?” So she took his hand and led him to where their two children lay. He began to weep, crying “My sons, my sons.” She comforted him, “The Lord gave, the Lord took. Y’hei sh’mei rabah mevorach, May the Name of the Lord be blessed…”
I bookmarked the discussion of this particular midrash this past Shabbat as I finished up If All the Seas Were Ink by Ilana Kurshan. It felt so powerful to me, the discussion of how all that we have is merely on loan from HaShem. 

Even further is a discussion in the sixth chapter of Berachot over the blessings over foods. At once it attempts to reconcile the fact that "the heavens are the Lord's and the fullness thereof, the earth and its inhabitants" (Psalms 24:1) and that "the heavens belong to God and the earth was given to men" (Psalms 115:16). While later Rabbi Hanina bar Papa says, "All who benefit from this world without first staying blessing are as if they are stealing from the Holy One Blessed Be He" (35b).

The reconciliation for this, Rabbi Levi explains, is that everything in the world belongs to HaShem, but the moment we make a blessing, it's on loan to us. 

This discussion was so powerful to me, so potent because I struggle intensely with making berachot. One of the things that drew me to Judaism was the level of 100-percent consciousness that is required of the Torah-observant Jew. So I marked this page, it made so real the idea that all that we have is on loan from HaShem, we only need make a bracha, a blessing, in order to take pleasure of it, to enjoy it, to truly be able to cherish something -- or someone. 

And then, this morning, I awoke exhausted after going to bed around 1:30 a.m., turned on my phone, and started looking through my news feed. The first thing I saw? A distant friend, someone who helped me greatly when I made aliyah, someone who was a Lion of Zion, someone who would lay his life down for any person who was on the right side of history ... had been murdered, viciously, by a Palestinian terrorist at the very place I used to go to buy groceries or get a coffee many times every week. My immediate reaction was that I had to be mistaken. Ari, Ari who basically spends 24/7 -- or spent -- at that place in Gush Etzion speaking with soldiers and providing them with chizuk and food and other special gifts from his fundraising -- couldn't have been murdered. He was a soldier. He knew that place inside and out. And yet, there he was. There was the video. The video of him being stabbed by a vicious animal -- not a human, not anyone I would remotely call a human -- and then chasing after him, poised, shooting at the savage, and then collapsing backwards. 

There's something about watching a friend, someone you know, someone who you watch regularly from a distance be murdered ... that just crushes every possible understanding and love you have for life. For Israel. 

And then, as the day went on, and I fought between anger and tears and confusion and the question, "Could I ever take children back to that place?" And then I thought about what I'd bookmarked on Shabbat. About how this life is just on loan from HaShem, and we have to be grateful and send out as many blessings as we can every moment of every day to keep these lives and all that are part of them on loan. For it's all we have. 

Wednesday, October 14, 2015

Being Jewish, Being Israeli

Six years ago, my converting rabbi sent me the official Manhattan RCA Beth Din conversion application via email. A month later, I had my first meeting, and 1.5 months after that, I had my Orthodox conversion and became a certified Jew. Now, my Reform conversion years earlier made me just as Jewish in the eyes of most of the (non-Jewish) world. Hitler wouldn't have hesitated in murdering me, and neither would anyone else out to murder, with malicious intent, the Jewish people.

Three years ago, I boarded a plane to New York and then on to Israel. After years of mulling it about in my head, I finally took the dive and became more than just a Jew, I became an Israeli. A proud member of the only nation in the world where Jews are allowed to live Jewishly, religiously, without persecution or fear of death and violence perpetrated by individuals who believe in ages-old myths and legends and religiously fueled ideas that Jews are the surge of the world, responsible for all of the world's ills economically, socially, and religiously.

Oh wait. No, no. That's not true. That was Herzl's ideal, but since its inception in the modern period, Israel has never been a safe haven for Jews. Not really. And I feel like the event of the past week make that more aggressively, depressingly obvious.

I suppose, in truth, there has never been a land in which the Jews, the Israelites, have lived in complete peace without fear of persecution. I think about other minor peoples over time, and I feel like, for the most part, threats are of the natural variety. Disease, the food chain, self-destruction. But the Jewish state, the Israelis and Jews that live there ... we could pray for our only destruction to come from disease and natural causes, but it would never be a reality.

The malicious murders and stabbings that have taken place by random Arabs and Palestinians over the past week in Israel -- not just Jerusalem but Raanana, Tel Aviv, and other "modern" areas of Israel -- have me torn. On the one side, I'm desperate to return to Israel and stand my ground as a proud Jew and Israeli, to show those who would see our -- my -- destruction as a win in the war against the Jewish people that we're not going anywhere. On the other side, I see my toddler, who was born an Israeli and who will someday be conscripted to fight and defend Israel in the IDF and I'm terrified. How I raise my child is vital. He's growing up in a terrifying world and an environment where who he is is the problem. Not what he believes or says or thinks, just who he is. And that terrifies me.

First Jew, then Israeli, and now? Now I'm just a target. All Jews are, from England to France to Dubai to Israel to New York and beyond. We're all just someone's target.

When I stepped out of the mikvah five and a half years ago, I didn't know that this would be the reality. But like a marriage, I took it all -- the good, the bad, the ugly, the absolutely terrifying.

Saturday, March 23, 2013

Ask Chaviva Anything: Of Postal Boxes and Addresses


A few questions popped up on Ask Chaviva Anything, and I wanted to answer them quickly (because they have quick answers, believe it or not). There are lots sitting in the queue that I promise to get to over Chol ha'Moed (those are the intermediate days of the holiday Passover, which starts Monday night).

Question Numero Uno:
I saw you have a proper mail box now. Would you like to receive mail? (Feel free to say no ... You've got other priorities and are always busy, but I know that a card in the post now and then can be cheering, so I wanted to make the offer.)
Great question, and I'm happy to oblige because for the first time in my life I have a box number! So I'm happy to dish out my address on the interwebs without worry of someone hunting me down and destroying me. After all, y'all already know I live in Neve Daniel. You just don't know where! Bwahaha. Anyway, here's the address:
Chaviva Gordon-Bennett
Box 323
Neve Daniel 90909
ISRAEL
Or, if you prefer Hebrew:
חביבה גורדון-בניט
Box 323
נווה דניאל 90909
ישראל
And on to Question Numero Dos:
Your decision to live in a settlement could be interpreted by some as being quite a controversial move and indicating a clear political statement in regards to the West Bank / Yehuda VeShomron region. Has your decision to move to Neve Daniel, particularly as a convert who seems to have enjoyed a very good quality of life when living in the United States, drawn criticism from others? I would imagine that your family and friends back home would have worried for your safety, given such incidents of violence against Jews as the Fogel massacre. However, I would be interested to know if you have ever felt the need to justify your decision to those who disagreed with settlements?
Perhaps as a European I'm coming at this from a different angle, as I've seen firsthand how contentious the whole issue can be. Americans, from my own experiences, seem much more likely to see the settlements in a positive light. I hope my tone isn't accusatory and haven't included my own view on settlements because I don't feel that they're relevant to the question. As a fellow convert I've really enjoyed your blogs and insights into Judaism and while our views differ on some issues, I really admire your courage in documenting your life in such a public and honest way.
I'd like to say this is an original question, but I've been asked it before and I wrote about it fairly recently. I hope it's not dismissive, and if there's anything I don't address in the blog post or comments, feel free to shoot me an email or comment on the blog post. But you can find my response to these kinds of queries in A Life Illegal

I like Question Numero ... um ... Three (wait, is it Tres). Bravo for inquiring.
So now that you're a stepmom, are you now going to start writing for Kveller?
This is a great question. I honestly hadn't even thought of it, but I suppose I should look into it, eh? Any one have any experience with Kveller or the process? Any bits of advice? 

Okay, that's all for now. There is packing in my future ... packing for England, where it's in the 30s and 40s (that's Fahrenheit, because -- let's be honest -- I'm never going to get on the Celsius bandwagon). I'm stoked to get back a little bit of the winter that I missed. 

Stay tuned for UK adventures!

Sunday, February 10, 2013

Ask Chaviva Anything: A Life Illegal?


This is going to be a rather tense edition of Ask Chaviva Anything, simply because of the nature of several questions I have received in recent weeks. The first one is easy, and then come the tough, emotional, complicated ones.
How did you choose Neve Daniel? 
This is an easy question. In my past visits to Israel, I've been able to experience the Golan (northern Israel), Jerusalem, Ramat Bet Shemesh, Neve Daniel, Tel Aviv, and Caesaria. Since moving here, I've also experienced a few other small, beautiful towns and neighborhoods. When I first moved to Israel, I was utterly pleased to live in Jerusalem in the Nachlaot neighborhood, because of its proximity to the shuk, centrality in Jerusalem, and the vibe of the neighborhood.

Mr. T, too, lived in Nachlaot until the beginning of November. Yes, we've wondered whether in those few short weeks I was living in Nachlaot whether our paths ever happened to cross.

That being said, when you meet someone amazing and decide to get married, you want a place that can and will be all your own -- a place that is "yours" as a collective couple. My apartment in Nachlaot was a shoebox, and Mr. T's apartment was (unfortunately) falling apart and not a place that we felt like we could be a "we." Thus, moving.

Why Neve Daniel? The short answer has two components: It is absolutely freaking beautiful there, and the bulk of my closest friends in Israel live there. (They call it Har HaBloggerim -- mountain of bloggers -- for a reason.) Lucky for me, Mr. T is an absolute dream and wanted to be in a place that made me happy, where we could be happy together. Neve Daniel is most perfect for what we need and where we are right now. They're even building a Beit Knesset right across from where we live!

Now ... the following are actually two different questions from two different people at two different times, but I've combined them for ease of answering.
How do you justify moving to a settlement that is considered to be in violation of international law? || I agree with you that the west bank in general, and the gush in particular, as stunning, and have a very special feel to them, and some lovely people living there.  But does it bother you to live in a place where there are two sets of rules for two groups of people, with unequal access to roads, water, healthcare, and civil protections under the law?
I knew this question was coming, and to be completely honest I haven't spent much time thinking about it. I've found that a lot of people outside of Israel don't necessarily understand what a "settlement" is in Israel. Many people think of caravans or tents or people living in trailers -- not the community in which I'm now living where the homes are built, completely permanent, where there is infrastructure, and a complete sense of permanent living. That being said, I think some history is necessary here.

Neve Daniel was established in 1982 on the site of the Cohen Farm -- which itself was founded in 1935 on lands purchased by Jews from an Arab village. In 1943, the land was transferred to the Jewish National Fund, abandoned during the Arab riots, and remained under Jordanian control until 1967. By this account, the land is Jewish-owned, period.

The question about legality comes from Article 49 of the Fourth Geneva Convention relative to the protection of civilian persons in time of war, which says,
"The occupying power shall not deport or transfer parts of its own population into the territories it occupies."
So my first question here is whether we're currently in a "time of war." My second question arises from the fact that no "state" held exact control over Judea and Samaria/the West Bank prior to 1967 anyhow.  According to the 1935 purchase and 1943 transfer, the land which Neve Daniel occupies is Jewish-owned. If we're neither at war nor was the area controlled by one state from which Israel then "occupied," then this isn't problematic.

As for the question about the inequality of access and lifestyle, I have to say that I just don't see it. Almost daily I ride through the checkpoints, I shop at the grocery store with Arabs and Jews alike, I travel the same roads, I live the same life, except I cannot enter certain places because I am Jewish -- like Bet Lechem, for example. The giant warning signs are explicit: It's dangerous to enter these Arab towns for Jews. There is no sign at the entrance to Neve Daniel telling Arabs not to come in out of danger to their lives, and you won't find one at any entrance to any "Jewish" town in the Gush either. (Lots of Arabs come in to Neve Daniel every day for work, at that.)

At Tzomet HaGush (near Neve Daniel where the grocery store and several other shops are), I park side-by-side with Arabs. We wait in the same checkout lines. We buy the same groceries. We ask the same questions. We travel the same roads home. In Jerusalem, we wait in the same waiting rooms, drink coffee at the same cafes, get annoyed at the same bank tellers, and run to catch the same buses.

It isn't a life apart like you think. Take, for example, the fact that Beitar -- the Jerusalem soccer team -- has Muslim players on its team, but the team they're playing this evening is a Muslim-only team. It's like Bet Lechem, precisely.

Of course, we could argue about it until we're blue in the face. This is simply my perspective, and this is my experience in nearly four months here and several years visiting the country. There are people who want all Arabs to die, to occupy every last inch of this small land, and who treat Arabs and Muslims like rats rather than people. Guess what? I'm not one of those people. I believe in an equal opportunity to succeed, to be happy, and to live life. But I also know my history, my politics, and I know that so much of what the world sees of Israel is either not based in fact or is based in fact and skewed. I know that Arab nations have rejected those who call themselves Palestinians and only acknowledge them when it serves a greater purpose for Arab and Muslim nations. They're a pawn, and it's disappointing and depressing. Israel does more for Palestinians than any of the nations of Arabs, period.

I'm debating whether to leave comments open on this post. I think, against my better judgment, I'm going to leave them open. Be kind, but be honest and realistic if you want to comment, please. I have no interest in fighting with anyone about this subject. I do, however, appreciate intelligent discussions that stick to productive dialogue.

Side note: The name "Neve Daniel" comes from the name of a bend in the road southwest of Bet Lechem where a convoy bringing supplies to Gush Etzion was ambushed in 1948. According to reports, 15 Jews were killed, 73 wounded, and tons of supplies and vehicles were destroyed when Arabs blocked the roads and swarmed the Jewish convoy.

Thursday, November 29, 2012

The Bid for Palestinian Statehood

Look at all that Jewish land! Oh wait, 60 percent of that is desert. 

Today is quite the important day for Israel. It's Kaf-Tet B'November. Kaf-Tet is the date, with kaf (כ) being 20 and tet (ט) being nine, you can deduce that it means it's November 29.

The significance of this date is that on November 29, 1947, the United Nations voted on the Partition Plan for Palestine (also known as UN General Assembly Resolution 181). The plan was approved by a vote of 33 to 13, with 10 abstentions.

The plan would have partitioned the territory of British-Mandate Palestine into Jewish and Arab states, with the greater Jerusalem area (including Beth Lechem) coming under international control. The Jewish contingency was not pleased with the amount of land allotted, but agreed for the sake of moving forward. The Jewish state comprised 5,500 square miles (60 percent of which was desert), and the Arab state comprised 4,500 square miles (of lush land). In both states, Jews and Arabs would live side by side.

Unfortunately, instead of seeing a dual state as a boon, the Arab nations attacked in May 1948 in an effort to destroy the nation, they lost, and Israel began to expand back to its natural and historic borders, which continued through the late 1960s.



Note: The historic/natural land of Israel was known as Judea until the 2nd century after the Bar Kochba revolt. After the revolt, Hadrian decided to punish the Israelites and named the land Philistia after the great enemies of the Israelites, the Philistines. The name evolved into Palestine with the British mandate, and suddenly an entire nation was born of people who called themselves Palestinians. The interesting question is this: If Hadrian hadn't punished the Israelites and the land's name remained Judea over these hundreds and hundreds of years, would those who identify as Palestinians today call themselves Jews as well? Would this be a battle fought of Jew vs. Jew?



Today November 29 is important because today is the day, 65 years to the date later, the United Nations is voting again. Today in New York, Palestinians plan to ask the U.N. General Assembly to recognize a non-member state of Palestine in the Israeli-occupied West Bank and east Jerusalem, as well as the Hamas-ruled Gaza strip. The Palestinian collective is confident, and it they're playing this off as if a declaration of acknowledgement will make "peace talks" a more viable option. Any idiot knows this isn't true, of course, and recognition by the United Nations of a terrorist-controlled land -- in my opinion -- proves once and for all the complete and utter failure and insignificance of the United Nations.

Luckily, the vote won't mean that much. According to U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, the U.N. vote "will not fulfill the goal of independent Palestinian and Israeli states living side by side in peace, which the U.S. strongly supports because that requires direct negotiations."

To show just how against the vote the U.S. is, Republican Sen. Orrin Hatch filed an amendment to a defense bill Wednesday that would eliminate funding for the United Nations if the General Assembly changes Palestine's status. Hear hear, I say. 

After everything that has happened in recent weeks, I think this request is incredibly ballsy and a little bit out of bounds. The fact that Israel agreed to a ceasefire on the same day that Hamas terrorists blew up a bus in Tel Aviv says to me that Hamas and it's Palestinian puppets seem to think they have the world wrapped around their little finger. My hope, in the end, is that more countries abstain than vote, and that those who vote make a sensible choice. 

The Palestinian people are not ready for statehood. They haven't been for a long time. Abandoned by Arab nations who don't care about them or their plight and operated in Stockholm Syndrome-style by Hamas, the Palestinian people have a lot of growing up to do. You cannot change adults, so you have to start with children, and this requires a lot of education. A lot. Unfortunately, this isn't happening, thanks to Hamas. Someone -- a lot of someones -- need to rise to the challenge, to push out Hamas once and for all, to reclaim the peoplehood, to stop living in fear and confusion and hatred. It takes responsibility and leadership -- two things that are simply missing. 

Only then will I support a two-state solution. Only when Hamas is driven into the sea and the people teach their children the value of words, promises, and human rights.