And even though Jerusalem is, so far, beyond the reach of the rockets, even here, the air has started to take on a war-like feel. A colleague of mine, in her 40â€™s, cancelled a meeting yesterday because her real-estate agent husband was just called up and sent to the Egyptian border. A friend I met later in the afternoon cut a meeting short because his son was getting a few hours off. The kid hasnâ€™t even finished basic training, but was sent out to Samaria to guard an outpost so that more experienced kids could get sent to the front. And we were going to try to get together with other friends this morning, but they canâ€™t. Their twenty year old son got called up from his yeshiva, and sent to south of Hebron, and theyâ€™re going to try to get out there to bring him some food for Shabbat. And our daughter wonâ€™t be home for Shabbat â€“ sheâ€™s got guard duty on base. With the other two kids away for the summer, weâ€™re home by ourselves. The house feels empty, hollow. Like the towns in the north.
And so it goes. Another all out war, when it could have been different. If theyâ€™d wanted something else. But they donâ€™t. Not the Iranians, not the civilians in Syria interviewed on CNN who spoke with admiration of Nasrallah, not the Palestinians on the West Bank whoâ€™ve posted his picture everywhere, and not even the Israeli Arabs in Nazareth who, from the depths of their mourning, blame Israel and not Nasrallah for the loss of their children.