Jewish Journal

The Signature of Real Men

by Ariel Blumenthal

October 8, 2013 | 9:00 pm

9-year old Noam Glick taken to the hospital

Another glorification of terrorism; Swift, macabre and painfully mainstream.

A 9-year old Israeli girl was shot by a Palestinian on Saturday. The man entered the backyard of the house she lives in, and shot her through the neck from close range.

The girl, Noam Glick, survived - somehow.

On Sunday, the official facebook page of Fatah (Mahmoud Abbas’ ruling party) posted this:

“The sniper of Palestine was here ... He left the signature of real men ... He saluted and left, and moved to a different place, with a new signature, as he tells the story of those who love the homeland.”

The Marlboro man must be turning in his grave: What’s manly about shooting an unsuspecting 9-year old? What kind of beliefs and convictions turn the shooting of a 9-year old girl into an act of valor? What vantage point is twisted enough to find virtue in this act, and negate the fact that, well, this is a 9-year old child playing in the backyard?

We’ve seen this before. 9-year old Noam Glick is first and foremost Jewish. Or “Israeli”, or “Zionist”, “Settler” - take your pick. And that supersedes everything else about her: that she’s a child with a mother and a father, with dreams and joys and frustrations, that she’s a human being. These are all way down on the Sniper of Palestine’s list of considerations. Noam IS one of the words above, and that strips her of the right to be treated as a human being, strips her of the right to live. And that gives him, the “real man”, the Palestinian James Bond, a permissive license to kill, in cold blood, with no remorse, and become a national champion of patriotism as a result.

Is there an equivalency in our society? Could there be anything about a 9-year old victim that could make you feel at ease or even elated with her being shot? What could make you ‘Like!’ the glorifying post, share it with enthusiasm? How would you feel if everyone around you thought the shooting was ok, natural, patriotic? Dive into these question, and you get a glimpse of the enormous moral rift between the Palestinians and the civilized world.

If you get to Ramallah one of these days, you may find yourself crossing the Dalal Mughrabi square. Mughrabi was the leader of the worst attack in the history of Palestinian terrorism, a 1978 ordeal that left 38 Israelis dead, including 13 children, and 71 wounded. The scene of horror, desperation, death and carnage that Dalal Mughrabi had conjured in 1978, as described by survivors, would make any civilized person wonder about the nature of human kind. In a grotesque expression of Palestinian nationalism, Dalal and her peers were reported to jubilantly celebrate and sing while inflicting their victims with untold misery.

But for Palestinians, Dalal Mughrabi is the ultimate national hero, with an impressive naming frenzy to account for that: All things Palestinian had been named after her, from a political panel to a ping-pong tournament, from kids’ summer camp to a public square.

An average Palestinian enjoys a breezy evening walk at the Dalal Mughrabi square. What goes through his head right about now? Does he think about the anxiety and terror consuming Mughrabi’s hostages, women and children on a bus, and than routing, supporting, justifying, adoring the perpetrator?

Palestinian society’s romance with death and killing is morally promiscuous, and everyone is an accomplice: Those who kill, those who send them, those who glorify them, their adoring neighbors and friends, those who celebrate their violent acts, those who sing their glory, those who honor them at conferences, those who teach the kids to admire them, those who name their summer camp after terrorists and place an order for T-shirts with a terrorist face on them, the General giving a speech of admiration of terrorists, the praising politician calling on Palestinian youth to go in their footsteps, parents who expose their children to glorification of violence, people on Palestinian TV that produce and air glorifying items about terrorist, and up to Mahmoud Abbas himself, who reminisces on the long Palestinian legacy of terrorism - every single one of them is an organ in a sick body.

There’s no peace coming out of that, ladies and gentlemen. The political process is premature. There’s a lot of growing up that this disturbed teenager of a society needs to go through before the road to peace can be found.

40 years ago this month a terrible war raged in the Middle East. The anniversary of the traumatic Yom Kippur war was commemorated on Israeli media by somber programs, newly released archival material, and so on.

In Egypt, there was a public celebration in Tahrir square, including music and fireworks.

The Egyptians initiated that war. They scheduled the attack on Yom Kippur, for maximum surprise. They brought about the death of thousands in roughly 3 weeks of fighting, and after it was all done, they were defeated.

This is all, apparently, a reason for a celebration.

But the festivities didn’t go well. The Muslim Brotherhood announced it was going to interrupt the jubilation, leading to the regular scenes of street violence, and no less than 51 dead.

A violent society remains a violent society, that’s not surprising. It’s just the symbolic and explicit fashion in which events in the Middle East take place:

51 dead during a celebration of war. Are you getting it?


**KUDOS** as always to Itamar Marcus and Palestinian Media Watch for their wonderful work exposing Palestinian hate speech.

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Ariel Blumenthal is a composer and music producer with a somewhat obsessive passion for international and current affairs. To satisfy his urges, Ariel writes words and...

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