Asesinan a 260 asistentes a un festival de música y aquí nadie dice nada...

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Esta zona tiene un problema de base, que no tiene solución definitiva por desgracia,

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Hi!

Many, many subscribers to my various lists have e-mailed me, asking whether I'm OK, in the wake of recent events in Israel. I can't keep up with answering everyone individually, so I decided to send out this broadcast. (My apologies if you receive it more than once.)

The good news: My family and I are safe. But we are also emotionally numb, and worried about what will happen in the coming days.

Let's start at the beginning: Saturday was not only the Sabbath (the Jewish day of rest) but also a particularly festive holiday, Simchat Torah. On that day, Jews finish reading the Torah (first five books of the Bible) and start reading it all over again. Synagogue services usually include a lot of singing and dancing. It's also the end of the Jewish holiday season, so we celebrate returning to real life.

I got up very early that morning, planning to read for a while before heading out to my synagogue. While I was reading, I heard some booms outside. At first, I dismissed them. But I kept hearing those booms, and they sounded a lot like the Iron Dome system that Israel uses to shoot down Palestinian rockets.

Now, the sad fact is that we've had rocket attacks before. Modi'in, where I live. We're not very close to the Gaza Strip, whose Hamas-led government fires rockets at Israeli homes on a regular basis, but we're close enough that when there's a military flare-up between Israel and Hamas, we hear air-raid sirens and are told to enter our thick-walled "safe rooms," a mandatory part of every Israeli home built since the mid 1990s.

I decided that maybe I'm crazy for thinking that Iron Dome is being used, but just in case, i should clean out some of the junk from our safe room, which we (like almost everyone else) use for storage.

As I did that, I heard more and more booms overhead. Even though I normally don't use my phone or computer on Saturdays, I decided that I had to know what was going on -- and I saw that there was indeed a massive attack on Israel. I woke up my wife and daughters, and warned them that we might have an air-raid alert in the near future. I promised my wife that I would walk to synagogue alongside apartment buildings, so that if there's an alert, I'll have a building to duck into.

Our synagogue service was poorly attended, quick, and quiet. We got rid of any festivities, including the traditional dancing a planned potluck lunch. The air-raid siren sounded while I was in synagogue; we all entered our safe room, and stayed there for a while until it was safe. A city inspector soon came to tell us that we were only allowed to continue praying together because of the safe room, and that we all had to be able to fit in there.

I got back home at about 12 noon on Saturday, started to hear what turned out to be the real news of the day. Even though we normally don't drive on Saturdays, my wife took the step of collecting our son from his gap-year program in Jerusalem, so that he could be with us, safe at home. Like almost everyone else in Israel, I have been glued to the news ever since.

In short: While the rockets were being fired at dozens of Israeli cities, hundreds of Hamas terrorists entered Israel using a multi-pronged surprise attack. They went door to door in a number of cities and villages, shooting just about anyone they found. They went to a 2,000-person rave and music festival, and killed hundreds of young people there to dance and enjoy the music.

The stories that we're hearing are just chilling: Children shot at point-blank range in front of their parents. Terrorists burning down houses when the owners wouldn't leave their safe rooms. A 250-person mass grave where the rave attendees were shot and killed.

Worse yet: More than 100 Israeli, most of them civilians, were taken hostage by Hamas and are being held captive in the Gaza Strip. These include children and the elderly.

The mood in Israel is one of anger, frustration, and even despair. As I write this, there are about 1,000 officially confirmed deaths. Given that Israel has a population of just under 10 million, that's proportionally equivalent to 6x the number of Americans who were killed on September 11th. I don't know anyone who was killed or kidnapped, but we have many friends who do. These already horrific numbers don't include the 2,000 or so injured, and the as-of-yet uncounted number of missing people.

I make no secret of the fact that I'm a left-winger in Israeli politics; I disagree with nearly every decision that the current government has made, and have been regularly protesting their plans to weaken our courts. I donate regularly to the New Israel Fund, which promotes Arab-Jewish coexistence, pluralism, and the rule of law. And I certainly have lots of questions and anger about how the army and government managed to fall asleep at the switch and allow such a tragedy to happen.

But even I, Mr. Bleeding Heart Liberal, see Hamas's actions for what they are: Chilling, barbaric, acts of terror that demand a response. Kidnapping children and old ladies? Shooting civilians as they're driving away from you? Trying to shoot people as they cower in their safe rooms? There is no justification for these actions. Moreover, they will (sadly) do nothing to advance the Palestinian cause.

Again: My family and I are safe. The odds of a rocket attack on our house are small, and our safe room is now particularly spacious. We're donating food, clothing, and toiletries to people who lost their homes, as well as their families, and need assistance with just basic day-to-day needs. The very same people who were organizing anti-government demonstrations have been showing up in droves for reserve duty and/or offering their support services — from driving to cooking to writing software to help identify the missing.

Modi'in is eerily quiet, with very few cars on the road, and many stores shuttered as the owners have been called up to reserve duty. On my way to synagogue this morning, I heard the nonstop sounds of fighter jets overhead. In synagogue, we prayed for the safety of not just the army, but for the health of those injured and the speedy return of those captured.

We have friends, relatives, and friends' children in the army. We're hoping that they will be safe, and that they will manage to perform the impossible task of removing Hamas terrorists while hurting as few civilians as can be done.

The next few days and weeks are going to be difficult. I hope that they will involve as few deaths an injuries, on all sides, as is humanly possible. And I hope that soon enough, the situation will improve.

But for now, while we're physically safe, we're deeply worried, in a way that I haven't felt in a very long time. We will win this war, because we have no choice. But it's going to get worse before it gets better, and none of us wants that.

Thanks again to those of you who have reached out so kindly. I hope that things will be happier, better, and more peaceful in the near future.

All the best,

Reuven