WarSclerotic

Ten days ago, before she knew of her son’s death, Rachel Frenkel told a group of children that “God doesn’t work for us.” But even as she was trying to give strength to the next generation, telling them that they mustn’t “break if something happens,” she already felt that the worst of all was headed in her direction. She had hope, but she knew that it was likely that her hope would be dashed. The devil was present from the very start.

Now everyone is praying for these exemplary families to have the strength to process the devastating pain, but this morning we weep, cry out and wonder. Above all, first and foremost, this is a day of mourning, and the mourning supersedes the need to take stock.

This morning, we will revert back to those age-old words, those cliches that could not be truer. We will cry for the joy these children won’t get to feel. We will weep as we read the immortal words of David’s Lamentation (O my son, my son, my son! Would I had died for thee!). We will recite the words of the funeral prayer and adhere to the Jewish customs of mourning before we follow the mothers of the deceased to that place of inner strength, to that impressive “you mustn’t break” state of mind.

This time, anyone who shows understanding toward our enemy — the enemy that wants to annihilate us — will feel our wrath. We will not forgive, and they can spare us their chastising remarks. We cannot be appeased — we are furious over the loss of three precious children, whose only sin was being Jewish.

Following the news, the Diplomatic-Security Cabinet convened in the exact same place where it met 41 years ago, headed by then-Prime Minister Golda Meir. It was the day that conflicting reports about a possible terror attack at the Munich Olympics started pouring in. At the end of that day, the murder of 11 Israelis by Palestinian terrorists was confirmed. The elderly, heavy footed woman turned to the generals around her and declared that the murderers and their accomplices must not be allowed to live. She spoke plainly, and the world knew that the Palestinian murderers were dead men walking, with targets on their foreheads just waiting for an Israeli bullet.

The full execution of Meir’s instructions stretched out over 20 years. In 1992, the last of the terrorists who took part in the Olympic massacre was killed. To their dying day, they were frightened and on the run.

The issue now is what kind of policy Israel will adopt toward Hamas and the Palestinian Authority. It was debated during Monday’s meeting, but this is just the beginning. But even when a decision is made, it will not be the end of the road – the decision will be debated anew, with new arguments added. Certain events in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict have the tendency to stand out above other murders and become symbols; to serve as junctions for new paths in the relationship between these two peoples.

We do not yet have all the pieces of this particular puzzle. The power of the international community has been neutralized for the next few days, but will be restored within a week. It is too early to tell what path Israel will choose in regard to its war on terror. But one utterly clear truth is already apparent beyond the pain and the sobbing: Remember Munich. Remember Golda. Follow her lead.