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As I write this, I am 35,000 miles above the earth, en route to Israel. I know that many of my friends and colleagues believe that I am certifiably insane to be flying directly into what some have deemed “a war zone,” but I am proud to be doing so.
I am flying into Tel Aviv as Hamas has rained more than 2000 missiles on Israel since Monday. I am flying into Tel Aviv as many Israeli Arabs in Jaffa, Lod, Haifa and Ramla are torching cars and smashing windows of synagogues, engaging in an insurrection in their own streets. I am flying into Tel Aviv as imams have incited their population into believing that “Jerusalem is at stake” and have whipped up their population into a renewed intifada, as they have allowed their Holy Site, the Al Aqsa Mosque to be used as a weapons arsenal in which to store boulder-sized rocks.
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