By Paula R. Stern
August 21, 2003
Kenny Rogers begins his award winning song, The Gambler, with the words, "On a warm summer's evening on a train bound for nowhere." Could there be more appropriate words than these to describe the Roadmap?
We've been on a "train bound for nowhere" for the last few years. Perhaps even longer, if you count the time we got on the train bound for Oslo. Tuesday night, the train stopped in a quiet neighborhood, beside a bus filled with evening worshippers. Even as the world urged the train to continue, despite the carnage, I wondered when Arik the Gambler would truly listen. It's time to fold. It's time to run, not walk, away from this process.
There is no shame in failing, if you have given it your best try. But there is shame in sacrificing your people for fake dreams, for allowing others to murder your babies in the name of hatred. Today, Israel is sad, devastated beyond words. This is a natural part of the mourning process. Shock, sadness, anger, grief and acceptance. The five steps of mourning.
But this time, we have gone straight into third gear. This time, Arik, get angry and stay that way. Each time the anger begins to fade, focus on the image of medics frantically trying to save that little girl. Focus on a baby found below the bodies and think of the children without parents today, and the parents searching for their children.
Get angry, Arik, and stay that way because finally, finally, maybe we've begun to understand that on the train bound for nowhere, you have to know when to walk away, and know when to run away.
Often, when my children are about to take some test that seems insurmountable in school, I remind them that what is important is the effort, putting 100% of themselves into the task. Usually, they will succeed beyond their wildest expectations. Sometimes, not.
What is important is that we, as a people, have run after peace for years. We have tried beyond what any normal nation would do. We have withdrawn from areas we needed to secure our people. Only to have terrorists sneak out and murder again. Knowing the pattern, we have still tried again and again. It is enough. The world will continue to demand we sacrifice and more will die. The world will not accept our dead as an unacceptable price for the peace they want to impose and the world will not accept the futility of trying to make peace alone.
Tuesday night, as they carried each child away from the horror, I began to sense something different. I was not shocked at the pictures, and while I was intensely saddened, even devastated by what I was watching, the anger came. Stronger, hotter than ever before and this time, I don't want to let it go. I don't want to think that in a day, the anger will fade and we will move on with our lives... until the next time. This time, Arik, stay angry and stop gambling.
From here on out, every concession we make is our own fault. Each child, every orphan. Each stone, every mortar. Each attack, every withdrawal will be on our head because last night the train stopped. We have given them weapons they said they needed to make peace. We have allowed them to arm their army, teach their children to hate and murder, and we have allowed them, over and over again, to tell the world that they want peace.
They do not want peace. They do not want to live with us here in what they consider to be their Middle East, their land. They will not share even a portion of it with us, no matter what rights we believe we have. If we were here first, that is not relevant to them. It is only a matter of strength. If we are strong enough to remain here, they will accept us... until they are stronger.
They have taken our holiest of places and denied us admittance. And even worse, they have desecrated our graves and are marketing their biggest lie of all. They deny that the Temple Mount is ours or ever was. They attempt to write their history by rewriting ours.
But the greatest crime of all lay in the streets of Jerusalem last night and was broadcast around the world. Last night, as in the past 35 months of violence, our children paid the price for our naivete, for our gambling. "You got to know when to hold 'em, Know when to fold 'em, Know when to walk away, And know when to run."
Arik, it's time to fold.
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