I have a friend who is an assassin.
Her job is to go in and kill those that the government of Israel says should be killed. It is a terrible job, and she hates it. But, she hates worse the idea that more people will die if she doesn’t kill.
She has the dubiousÂ advantage of looking like an Arab, of speaking Arabic with a Palestinian accent, of knowing the customs and body language expected of an Arab. She is unimposing. She is good at her job.
And, she is one of the nicest, most sensitive people that I know.
She once had to go into the West Bank and kill a twelve year old child.
Can you imagine having to do that? Kill a little child? When you love children, yourself?
However, this little boy had been hired by Hamas to murder Palestinians who supported Israel, and he was also very good at his job. And, as long as this little boy killed for them, Hamas allowed his parents and siblings to live in a nice house – with all that a family like that needed.
A little boy who kills people, and my friend who loves children had to go and kill him.
Somewhere in the West Bank, there is a little grave with a little boy’s body in it, because my friend is very good at what she does. And, she suffers for that little boy, and she suffers for all the other people that she’s had to kill.
This is what Golda Meir meant when she spoke to Anwar Sadat, the leader of Egypt, just before the peace talks:
We can forgive you for killing our sons. But we will never forgive you for making us kill yours.
Â Â – Golda Meir
Countless innocent Palestinians and Israelis owe their lives to my friend, but she doesn’t know them. They don’t come to her and tell her how much they appreciate her efforts to save them. But, she does know the people that she’s had to kill, and that hurts.
I haven’t talked to my friend in a long time.Â I hope thatÂ she is still alive.
Too many Palestinians and Israelis depend on her ability to do what she does.