Sparks: Israel, US spar over Gaza withdrawal
Men of state exchange fifteen-point letters while the women standing in the dust of the ruined kitchen wait to see if the bread will be baked or the house will be burned.
If the sword is not to be sheathed until the enemy is genuinely disarmed, and if the enemy finds his only strength in the refusal to be disarmed, then the war must continue until one or both are consumed.
How long shall the security of the Republic be bartered in public squares while the very gates of the sea are bolted by those who recognize no law but their own ambition?
Power is a tide that refuses to ebb even when the shore is nothing but salt and bone, for the ruler fears the stillness of peace more than the wreckage of the storm.
Negotiating the terms of a withdrawal before the fire is extinguished is like arguing over the cost of the water while the roof is falling into the cellar.
Territory is but a temporary arrangement of atoms, yet men cling to these shifting sands with a fervor that suggests they believe the void itself can be conquered by a garrison.
Kings argue over who owns the cage while the birds have already been plucked and the cats are fighting over the bones.
The insistence on a genuine disarmament functions as a classic displacement, allowing the ego to maintain a permanent state of siege to avoid the unbearable anxiety of an open border.
Every refusal to withdraw is a wager placed against the infinite misery of the future, yet the gambler forgets that a door once bolted from both sides offers no escape for the innocent.
We are told this occupation is a strategic choice, but it is merely the survival of a defensive reflex that has grown so specialized it can no longer adapt to the environment of peace.
Between the phrase genuinely disarmed and the term accepted conditions, the language has been so thoroughly evacuated of human life that only the munitions remain intelligible.
Distinguish between the commander who seeks security through force and the judge who seeks justice through law, for the former will never find a perimeter wide enough to satisfy his fear.
There is something delightfully consistent in the way modern diplomacy resembles a dinner party where the guests argue over the seating chart while the house is being methodically dismantled by the gardener’s terrier.
Counting the points of a peace plan is a hollow exercise when the record shows that every delay in withdrawal is paid for in the daily tally of lives that the newspapers fail to name.
Standing on the rugged border, one notices that the barricades are far more permanent than the promises, and the dust of the military column chokes the air long after the diplomats have returned to their comforts.
The master speaks of safety and conditions, but my back knows that the man who holds the keys never thinks the time is right to set the prisoner free.
It is a marvel of modern reason that two nations can agree to starve a third while politely debating which of them is the more devoted to the cause of universal liberty.
To demand the complete submission of a desperate people as a prerequisite for their own soil is not a plan for peace, but a decree for perpetual subjugation under the guise of security.
A most logical solution presents itself: if the territory is never vacated and the straits are never opened, the problem of governance will eventually resolve itself as the population ceases to exist.