I Had a Dream

The other night, I dreamed that I sat in a sports bar sipping on a Johnnie Walker Black. I felt the scotch burn my throat. While on the TV, I watched a tank driving through a bombed-out Gazan village. I’m not sure if it was an Israeli tank driven by the IDF or an American tank driven by GIs. Rubble lined the streets, yet the Gazans cheered, waved, and smiled at the passing tank.  They celebrated their liberation from tyranny, from the thugs of Hamas, and from death and destruction.

My dream didn’t surprise me because that day, I saw a video of a thousand Gazans protesting Hamas’s presence in Gaza. I imagined they chanted, “Hamas Out!  Terrorists out! Enough is Enough!”

I cheered and smiled, realizing that the Palestinians had awakened to the reality that Hamas was their enemy.

That October 7th was the biggest mistake ever made in Palestinian history.

A complete disaster.

A catastrophe greater than the Nakba.

These Gazans protestors knew that holding the hostages compounded their misery. They knew that their lives would not improve until the Hamas terrorists fled from the Strip. They knew that by protesting, they would be labeled “Tools of the Zionists.” They knew that Hamas thugs would try to kill them in revenge. But they were willing to risk their lives.

And as Hamas killed the protestors.

And the world saw these monsters as they are.

Monsters that torture and kill their own.

My dream didn’t surprise me because that night, I watched a program about the British and American Armies invading Sicily in 1944. I watched US troops driving their Shermans through the rubble of Sicily; Sicilians cheered, waved, and smiled as their liberators. They knew that they had been freed from tyranny. These Italians who had cheered their Duce for decades were now cheering American and British soldiers.

As I thought about my dream, I felt the Scotch burn my throat and wondered, “When would the Gazans come to their senses?

And end their nightmare.”