Pasteur Street 633
It was a winter morning in Buenos Aires on July 18, 1994. The sky was gray and heavy, reflecting the humidity and the typical cold of the season. As the clock approached 9:53 AM, the streets began to fill with the usual daily hustle and bustle. In the Argentine Israelite Mutual Association (AMIA) building at Pasteur Street 633, employees and visitors were starting another day of work and activities.
The routine was brutally interrupted at 9:53 AM when a powerful explosion shook the city. A vehicle loaded with 275 kilos of ammonium nitrate and fuel exploded in front of the AMIA building, turning the facade into rubble and sending debris in all directions. The force of the explosion was so devastating that it not only destroyed the AMIA but also seriously damaged several surrounding buildings, creating a scene of chaos and despair.
In the next moment, Pasteur Street was engulfed in a cloud of dust and smoke. Screams of panic and pain echoed through the rubble as stunned survivors tried to comprehend what had happened. Broken glass, wrecked cars, and fallen bodies painted a horrific picture. Emergency teams and volunteers rushed to the site to rescue those trapped under the debris. The smell of burning and the sight of blood and destruction would forever mark the memory of those who witnessed the attack.
Exactly 30 years ago, the attack, carried out by Hezbollah with the support of Iran, was not an act of war but an act of pure hatred. Hezbollah did not target a military base or a political power center but a community of ordinary people. Men, women, children, older people – lives interrupted for no reason other than blind hatred against Jews.
Even more revolting is the conspiracy and corruption that followed. Governments that should have sought justice instead buried the truth under layers of bureaucracy and disinterest. Prosecutors like Alberto Nisman, who dared to seek the truth, were silenced. Nisman, who was determined to expose those responsible and bring the perpetrators and their accomplices to justice, was found dead in his apartment in 2015 under suspicious circumstances, with a gunshot to the head. Shortly before his death, Nisman had publicly declared that he was about to present compelling evidence implicating senior Argentine government officials in a cover-up to protect Iran and Hezbollah. He claimed to have proof of a conspiracy to cover up the actual perpetrators of the attack, involving secret negotiations and promises of economic benefits.
Today, 30 years later, there is still no conclusion to the legal process. Justice remains elusive, shrouded in a veil of impunity and silence. The families of the victims still await answers and accountability. The pain of loss is compounded by a sense of abandonment and the lack of justice.
This same threat looms over us on Israel’s northern border. Hezbollah, armed and financed by Iran, continues to pose a constant and immediate danger. Their actions are not motivated by just territorial disputes but by a visceral hatred that recognizes no borders or innocents. They hide among civilians, launch missiles at our cities, and perpetuate a culture of fear and violence. They do not attack military bases; they target schools, hospitals, and markets – where everyday life tries to flourish despite everything.
The question that echoes in our hearts is: how can we return to everyday life in Israel with this group living next to our northern border? How can we ensure safety for our children, our elderly, and our families when we know that the threat is always present, lurking, waiting to strike? Normality becomes a distant concept when we live under the shadow of Hezbollah.
The answer is not simple. It requires more than just military strength. It involves resilience, courage, and an unwavering determination to resist terror. It also requires an international community that recognizes the true nature of this threat and is willing to act against it, not with empty words.