The herd of peace lovers

After the firing of the first barrage of rockets, no war ever resembles the one planned. The enemy refuses to behave according to a predetermined script, military commanders don't squirt sparks from their brains, our intelligence is exposed as short sighted and the wonderful war machines rebel against their operators.

Even statesmanship, which is usually a continuation of the war, more often than not marks the beginning and doesn't abide by the forecasts. Of all the forecasts that precede wars, there is only one that never misses the mark: It will be bad. It will always be bad.

There will always be mourners dressed in black beside the gravesites. Injured war veterans will suffer until their final days. Those who are opposed to the war in Lebanon are proud of their courage to voice this simple truth, however not all wisdom is embedded in simplicity, and what was once predicted to be simple is often complex.

Not an 'inevitable' war

Life may well become the death of us with its complexity. Had we spared ourselves this war, the spared war would have led to a worse war than the one on which we have embarked. Therefore, this is not an "inevitable" war, and indeed it could have been avoided.

We could have continued living under the threat of thousands of missiles whose range reaches the center of the country; we could have exercised self restraint over the shelling, the frequent infiltration of murderers, and the abduction of soldiers for use as bargaining chips.

One could say that such an existence is preferable to war, as is the rubbing of the rope around the neck of a person condemned to death is better than falling into the pit. The problem is that in most cases the rubbing of the rope around the condemned person's neck is only the preface to breaking his neck.

Smart asses

However the majority of those who oppose the war are smart asses, insisting that if a war can be postponed it should indeed be postponed, arguing that the disasters even successful wars bring are certainty, whereas the future brings unanticipated scenarios.

Perhaps a secular democratic revolution will break out in Iran, perhaps we'll deploy from the occupied territories and then the Moslem world will embrace us, perhaps the Americans will pull the chestnuts out of the fire and perhaps the villain will die.

Those who oppose the war seem to remember all the right books - the "March of Stupidity", "Nothing New in the West", "Mother Courage" and "Queen of the Bath", but they seem to forget "For Whom the Bell Tolls." They hear the sound of the sirens ringing in their ears only when Israel responds "disproportionately."

I understand those whose calm is disrupted when the masses begin to roll the war drums, but when the dissidents flock into a herd, I feel an overriding urge to puke on them.

'You either run or hit back with all your might'

Once a young boy came from a nearby neighborhood, a reputable thug, we were in the midst of playing marbles when he came and kicked them. I got up. He cursed me to no end, and punched me in the chest. I hit him back and in no time we were rolling in the sand. He was stronger than I, he laid me on my back and got on top of me looking me in the eye and hitting me in the face.

My father was sitting on the balcony watching the brawl but didn't interfere. I could see him from where I lay. Smiling. I went upstairs scratched and bruised, humiliated and tearful. My father embraced me and said:

"you realized that you couldn't avoid the blows, but you didn't have the courage to tell yourself so. If you had had the courage, you wouldn't have punched him in the chest but would have stunned him immediately with a head butt, or with a  fist right to his nose. So let this serve as a lesson for life. You either run or hit back with all your might."