Arnold Roth: Betrayal, lies, politics and grief
Seven years have passed since criminal charges were brought in Washington, D.C. against the woman who murdered my sunny, lovely, empathetic 15-year-old daughter Malki. The anniversary of the charges being made public is today, March 14.Yisrael Medad: The world must be reminded of the Palestinian genocide campaign against Jews
As milestones go, this one is dark. The fugitive killer admits to her central role in the massacre for which she is being prosecuted. Though she brags about her atrocity, she lives the life of a celebrity and an inspiration to others. Yet her ongoing freedom gets negligible attention in the news industry and public discourse—even in the U.S. To the extent that the Arab media report on her, it is overwhelmingly favorable and sympathetic.
The dry details of Ahlam Aref Ahmad al-Tamimi’s long-thwarted prosecution are easy to find. The mugshots, biographical details and charges are accessible via three sites: The FBI’s list of Most Wanted Terrorists, the 2017 Department of Justice announcement of the previously secret charges and the State Department’s 2018 post of a $5 million reward that is still unclaimed two decades after it first went public.
What’s behind Tamimi’s freedom is harder to ascertain. Those who know don’t talk openly and those with a stake in her ongoing freedom are too often untruthful about it. Understanding this and conjecturing why it is the case is at the heart of the nightmare my wife and I endure years after our beautiful child’s life was extinguished.
If you do a Google search for the entry “Palestinian genocide accusation,” it starts with the 1948 Nakba, goes on to the 1967 Naksa, includes the Maronite-perpetrated Sabra and Shatila killings, and ends with the Gaza blockade. It references such terms as “ethnic cleansing,” “politicide,” “spaciocide,” and “cultural genocide.”Michael Oren: Hamas has reminded us that we are a nation, a family - a mishpacha
However, if you are looking for this year’s model, the entry is titled “Allegations of genocide in the 2023 Israeli attack on Gaza.” That includes such sub-sections as “Alleged genocidal intent,” “Academic and legal discourse,” “Statements by political organizations and governments,” and “Cultural discourse.” When I last looked, there were 299 references, not including footnotes.
The charge that Israel is engaged in a campaign of genocide in Gaza is ubiquitous, from The Hague to campuses, to the media, and in the streets. It is heard in museums and art galleries. It has led to the slogan “Abolish Zionism.” In a medical journal, British Medical Global Health, Israel’s policies were described as an “eliminatory settler colonial strategy.”
All this is propaganda, of course. After all, despite Israel’s campaigns against Hamas aggression, Gaza’s population shows no real signs of any serious demographic downfall. Neither has that of Judea and Samaria, except for voluntary emigration abroad.
Yet, there was a genocide campaign. It was conducted not against ‘Palestine’, but in Palestine, in the Mandate of Palestine. It was a campaign of attempted genocide, not against Arabs but against the Jews. It began in April 1920, and through riots, pogroms, and terror, as well as political and diplomatic pressure, it has not let up.
Anybody who’s ever concluded a speaking tour, especially one as long as mine—nine weeks—knows this feeling. Of being in an airport and not being able to say for sure what city it’s in or even the date of the month. All that remains are the impressions which, gathered in a time of desperate war, of a deepening sense of Jewish loneliness, and of skyrocketing antisemitism, are unprecedentedly profound.
In visits to several dozen Jewish communities across North America, I saw a degree of confusion and fear I never before encountered. People unfamiliar with antisemitism now confront it persistently and in multiple forms—in the Jew-hating slurs of pro-Palestinian protestors, in university administrators indifferent to their Jewish students’ plight, to the ovations received by comedians poking fun at Hollywood’s Jews, and filmmakers weaponizing the Holocaust against Israel.
Virtually every Israel supporter I met had lost friends because of that support. Though an occasional heckler accused Israel of causing antisemitism by killing Palestinians—internalizing the antisemitic claim that all Jews everywhere are liable for Israel’s actions—the vast majority of American Jews understood that rampant anti-Zionism merely exposed a latent Jew-hatred that existed well before October 7. All but a few realized that Israel’s security was directly linked to their own and that the state of American Jewry was severely threatened by attacks on the Jewish state.
Asked repeatedly, “What should we do?” I responded that American Jews could adopt one of three courses. They could remove the mezuzah from their doors, lock themselves in, and ignore all the prejudice outside. They could move to Israel. Or they could stay and fight. They could resist in the Churchillian sense, I explained, on the campuses, in the media, and through their elected officials. And Jews were only beginning to discover the many ways they can fight back.
Recalling the resignation of the presidents of Penn and Harvard, I reminded my listeners of their ability to exact a price from any official who fails to stand up to antisemitism. “Support pro-Israel media initiatives,” I urged them. “Support anti-boycott legislation.”