I ❤️ ISRAEL: Back to the Shomron
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THE AIR OF ISRAEL
I’m in Yerushalayim, in Emek Refaim. Outside there’s movement everywhere: cranes and construction all over, streets closed off, traffic squeezed down to a single lane, fences and worksites the length of the whole block. Yerushalayim never stops rebuilding itself. But the noise doesn’t reach inside. I’m at Café Kafit, a beautiful place, full of people, with air conditioning and good wifi. I’m alone, with my computer, trying to finish writing my book —Dinosaurs in the Torah— where I analyze in depth how Chazal, the Rishonim, and the Sephardic Acharonim understood pesukim 20, 21, and 22 of the first chapter of Bereshit. I don’t quite know why, but the coming and going of people doesn’t distract me: it keeps me company. I concentrate better here than in a library. I’m moving forward with my book the way I never could in New York. Could this be what our Sages taught, that avira de’Eretz Israel machkim—that the air of the land of Israel makes you wiser? It helps you think better. The mind feels lighter.
CONNECTION VIA NEGATIVA
I ordered shakshuka and a carrot juice.
The phone rings. It’s a member of my community in Great Neck. I answer. With a worried voice, he asks how I am, how I’m feeling, and what it’s like to be in Israel with the terrible situation with Iran, the confusing messages from Trump and Vance, and the threats from Turkey. He knows Israel matters deeply to me and that I live these news stories with intensity. And he takes for granted that I must be suffering, glued to the latest updates on Telegram.
And I don’t know how to explain to him that here everything is calm. That people are content, that the restaurants are full, and that the biggest problem of the morning is finding a free table to sit down for a coffee.
The truth is there are two countries called “Israel.” There’s the Israel of the international headlines—the one that shows up every day in every newspaper in the world, always on the edge of something, surrounded, threatened, and demonized—and there’s the other Israel, the one where you go to sleep with the windows open, enjoying the breeze of Yerushalayim, and wake up happy to be in the best country in the world.
NEWS DETOX
I told him I had no idea what was going on. And I said, almost without thinking: I’m not following the news! I surprised myself hearing it. And I realized something. In New York my head is more here than there; I can’t help it. A psychologist would tell me it’s a mix of guilt for not being in the land of my fathers and a need to stay connected to Israel all the time. Without meaning to, I had turned worry into a form of connection with Medinat Israel. But here I don’t need that: I’m inside, and the connection no longer runs through the news.
Here I’m in the company of my people, wherever I go. At Kafit I don’t know anyone, yet I know them all. I know exactly where they come from, they and their ancestors, and what future they want for their children.
And the connection with Boreh Olam is felt in the soul. In my Amida it takes far less mental effort to address God in the second person. The relationship with Boreh Olam happens far more naturally. I think that’s what gives a person so much peace. That Presence, immanent in the air of Israel, makes you more aware that there is Someone in charge of this place and this people. Yesh Ribon laBira —there is a Master to this palace. And it isn’t Trump, or Vance, or even Netanyahu.
SHADOWS
Our Chachamim teach that in the desert the people were wrapped in the Anane Kavod, the clouds of glory that surrounded them on every side. They were the sign that HaShem was with them, protecting them “from above.” And so they could go to sleep at ease, without standing guard, in the middle of the desert, even knowing they were surrounded by dangers. They also knew under whose shadow they stood. It’s the same shadow you feel here. It’s the one we’ll mention this Friday night in the Arbit prayer: ufros alenu sukkat shelomecha —spread over us the “shadow,” the sukka of Your peace. And we add a special mention: that this shadow of peace extend over all the people of Israel, and very particularly over Yerushalayim, His city. Our greatest wish as a nation is to dwell beneath the Divine Shadow. And that is what makes Israel special. It’s not that there’s no danger outside. It’s that here you give yourself over to Divine protection, and everything else stays outside: the news, the threats, the headlines. The world keeps turning, but the noise stays on the other side of the Shadow.
Until now, most of the problems the people of Israel faced on their journey through the desert were internal: a discontented people, complaints about the food (the manna), the spies who demoralized the nation, Korach’s rebellion against Moshe’s leadership, and so on. That generation that left Egypt had, quite literally, to pass away.
Our Parasha, however, takes place 40 years after the Exodus. The problems have changed. They’re no longer internal; now they are conflicts with Israel’s external enemies.
The people of Israel are now on the eastern side of the Jordan River —today’s Jordan— ready to enter the Promised Land. Balak, king of the nation of Moab, watches the Jewish people from atop his mountain, and he is afraid. He sees that these Jews are different from the first generation: they know how to defend themselves and fight, as their stunning victories over Sichon and Og made clear. Balak fears his own kingdom will end the same way. To prevent it, he comes up with an unconventional idea —something “outside the box.”
THE SECRET OF JEWISH SURVIVAL
There has to be “something” supernatural to explain why Israel never lost a war, despite being neither aggressive nor warlike nor ruthless. And Balak concludes —correctly— that Israel’s secret does not lie in military skill. There is something —he will later discover it is “Someone”— out of the ordinary that helps them win their wars. He assumes the secret of the Jewish victories lies in the relationship between Moshe and the God of Israel. Moshe’s God, Balak reasons, is the superior one; He defeated all the gods of Egypt.
So Balak has to find a god more powerful than the God of Israel. And if he can’t, he might use someone who knows how to manipulate Israel’s “God” and turn Him against Moshe and his people. In the idolatrous world, this is not strange logic. But he needed to find someone with access to that God, someone who could persuade Him to turn against Moshe. Balak is told that such a person exists —someone truly remarkable, a prophet like Moshe, who believes in and serves the very same God of Moshe! His name is Bilam, and he belongs to the people of Midian, Moab’s allies.
MERCENARY GODS
For the pagans, gods were bribable, mercenary, willing to sell their loyalty to the highest bidder. Balak summons Bilam and hires him, believing that with his knowledge of this God he could “curse” Israel and make God turn against them. Bilam was the right man —or the last resort— to carry out the plan. Bilam doesn’t tell Balak the truth. He hides from him that the God of Israel is not some invented pagan idol but the true God, and that the people of Israel are His chosen people. The explanation Bilam offers, to cover himself, is that he doesn’t speak of his own will: “God will put the words in his mouth.”
The Midianite comes before Balak, enters a trance, and tries to call on God to curse Israel. The commentators say he tried to bring up Israel’s sins, the times they abandoned God, and so on. But God intervenes in Bilam’s words —inspires him, possesses him— and forces the most beautiful blessings out of his mouth instead of curses. Bilam doesn’t give up. He tries again and again, seven times in all, from different vantage points, with different sacrifices. But every single time, the curses he meant to hurl at Israel came out as blessings. Balak, furious, sends him away.
BILAM THE MONOTHEIST
Beyond this fascinating story, two questions remain open.
First: how did Bilam know about the God of Israel? Because when Bilam speaks of God, he isn’t referring to some generic “god.” When he calls on Him, he doesn’t use only the word ELOKIM, which generically means “God,” but the proper name of the God of Abraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov.
I don’t think the commentators take up this point. Perhaps because the answer is too simple: Bilam knows about God because he belongs to the nation of Yitro, Moshe’s father-in-law! In the book of Shemot we read that Yitro came to the camp of Israel praising and acknowledging the God of Israel. But later, before Israel set out for the Promised Land, Yitro returned to Midian and, according to some commentators, spread the monotheistic worship of the God of Israel there. Our episode takes place 40 years after that return. Bilam is a disciple of Yitro, and I imagine he practiced “a monotheism with some variant of Judaism.” Something not unlike Islam.
Second question: why does Bilam agree to help the enemies of Israel? It’s strange, because Bilam is, by all appearances, a religious man who acknowledges the same God as the Jews. If he believes in the same God as Moshe, if his religion and Moshe’s were so alike —like Islam and Judaism— why does Bilam hate Israel and want to curse it? Bilam and Moshe share, ideologically, far more than what divides them. Bilam ought to be Israel’s protector, or at least its most loyal ally. How do we explain his hostility?
TIME TUNNEL
Once again, I believe that to understand the biblical past we have to look at the political present. Consider: who are Israel’s fiercest enemies today? Without question, the Islamists —the most “religious” Muslims— like Hamas, the Muslim Brotherhood, and Islamic Jihad. Remember that Islam itself was built out of biblical texts and ideas: the patriarch Abraham, the Bible, monotheism, prayer, fasting. So why this hatred toward the State of Israel, when Muslims —our cousins— ought to be our protectors, or at least our “natural allies”? How do we explain it?
REPLACEMENT THEORY
Professor Mordechai Kedar and other Israeli scholars of Islam explain that beneath all the political hatred and the idea of Jihad lies a foundation that is 100% religious. Who is the true representative of the God of the Bible —Israel, or the Islamic nation? Which is superior, the Quran or the Hebrew Bible? Who was the greater prophet, Moshe or Muhammad? Who are God’s true representatives on earth—the Jews or the Muslims? Let me be clear: this religious struggle for supremacy comes from one side only, the Islamist side. We Jews, thank God, have no need to declare a religious war to validate our standing as the chosen people, because we suffer from no inferiority complex. But on the other side there is an almost “suicidal” desperation to prove religious supremacy.
NOTHING NEW UNDER THE SUN
This is exactly what happened with Bilam. Despite everything he had in common with Moshe, Bilam had no interest in drawing close to him, no wish to join his people or become his ally. Once he came to know Moshe’s religion, he appropriated it in his own mind, casting himself as the chosen prophet. From that moment on, Moshe stood in his way, eclipsing him. Bilam’s hatred of Israel was born of his own ambition: to replace Moshe and Israel. Far from being an ally, Bilam became Israel’s greatest enemy and sought its destruction.
WHAT NO ONE WANTS TO SEE
Let me illustrate with numbers. The war in Gaza, set off by Hamas’s terrorist massacre on October 7th, has now lasted roughly two years. The reported death toll exceeds 70,000, and that figure fills front pages around the world, day after day, alongside marches, emergency sessions, and accusations of “genocide.”
Now, how many people know what is happening, at the very same time, in the war between Russia and Ukraine? Last month alone, Russia suffered more than 35,000 dead and wounded. More than thirty-five thousand—in a single month. In other words, what took two years to unfold in Gaza recurs on the Russian front every few weeks. And yet that war—incomparably bloodier—barely surfaces in the headlines. No marches. No accusations of genocide. No special sessions at the United Nations.
Why? Because, just as in the days of Bilam, their problem was never the number of victims.
Their problem is Israel.
Professor Dror Eydar, former Israeli ambassador to Italy, put it plainly:
More than three thousand years have passed since then, and many peoples have followed in Bilam’s footsteps, trying to halt the historical process of the Jewish people’s return to their home in Tzion. The world is full of bloody conflicts whose victims vastly outnumber those of the conflict between Israel and its neighbors, and yet the world’s attention fixes mainly on the Arabs of Gaza. That very scandal —the world’s indifference to other conflicts— proves that it is not the Palestinians who concern those who claim to support them, but Israel. There is no other nation whose policies are not what the salons of culture, academia, and the media debate but whose very right to exist is.
But God did not let them defeat us then. And He will not let them today.
In this week’s parashah, the Torah shows us that some conflicts can only be resolved by tearing them out at the root. When Korach challenged Moshe’s leadership, Moshe refused to settle for an ambiguous or halfway outcome. He didn’t ask for a sign in the heavens to prove he was right; he asked for something far more extreme. “If these men die a natural death,” he said, “then God did not send me. But if God creates something never seen before, and the earth opens its mouth and swallows them alive…”. And so it happened: the earth opened and they vanished from this world, leaving no trace and no doubt. Some conflicts cannot be settled with partial results.
After long months of fighting and a string of ceasefires, the United States and Iran signed a memorandum of understanding this week —a phrase that stirs grim memories for any Argentine Jew of a not-so-distant past—. Some rushed to celebrate; others took it with more caution, or with outright pessimism, because Iran’s defeat was partial, ambiguous, unfinished.
Iran’s Celebration
The loudest celebration, without a doubt, is Iran’s. Picture a boxing match. Iran is the fighter flat on the canvas, knocked down, all but knocked out. The referee leans over him and begins the count: one… two… three… The crowd already considers the fight over. The count goes on: seven… eight… nine… One more second and it will all be finished. And then the unthinkable happens. It isn’t Iran who rises, nor his own corner that calls off the fight: it’s the rival’s corner —the United States, with victory already in hand— that suddenly throws in the towel! The referee stops the count. The bout is suspended. Iran, who was about to lose by knockout, is handed a victory or, at best, a technical draw. That is why the leaders of the ayatollahs’ regime celebrate more than anyone: they know, better than anyone, how close they came to the end. They didn’t win the fight in the ring. It was handed to them.
President Trump’s Victory
For President Trump, this deal with Iran —call it an understanding, a peace, or a ceasefire— is a positive picture too: no active fighting, no American soldiers falling, and the reopening of the Strait of Hormuz has brought oil prices down, kept prices in check, and sent the markets ever higher. And for Washington, that is cause for celebration. Because in the United States —and for President Trump— victory and defeat are measured by one very specific gauge: the economy. If prices fall and the market rises, you celebrate. And the market rose.
There is also a political calculation. Even though much of his own administration is deeply uneasy with this deal, for the president it remains a win: one less problem on an agenda that, within a few months, will be dominated by November’s congressional elections. The confrontation with Iran, which could have hurt his Republican candidates in that race, has just been defused. And that’s no small thing: if the Republican Party loses the House or the Senate, Trump would be left all but paralyzed for any decision he might want to make in the final two years of his term. In those elections, what decides the vote is neither Iran nor Israel: it is, once again, the economy.
The Challenges for Israel
In Israel, the mood is far more sober.
On one hand, no one can deny what President Trump has done for Israel. No American president —nor, I would dare say, any leader of any country— has ever done so much for the Jewish State. Whatever happens from here on, that legacy cannot be forgotten. Israel has benefited enormously from that support on several fronts: in Syria, where it has taken and now holds the northern part of the Hermon; in southern Lebanon, where the Jewish army has advanced to the Litani River and controls that entire sector, essential to peace in Israel’s north; and in Gaza, where it now controls more than 60% of the territory. In the Middle East, victory is measured by the land you hold. And it is worth celebrating that Israel has won all that ground, that the United States cooperated directly or indirectly, and that the American president has not, for now, pressed Israel to pull back from any of those three zones. For Israel, that is an incredible, extraordinary, and undeniable triumph.
On the other hand, the deal with Iran —a sixty-day ceasefire— is a serious problem. It does not remove the concrete threat of Iran, which for Israel is not economic but existential. The elimination of nuclear material is left “subject to future negotiations”: no one knows when that uranium will be inspected, when it will be destroyed, or under whose supervision. Nothing is said, either, about Iran’s long-range missiles or its support for terrorist organizations like Hezbollah and the Houthis. Meanwhile, Iran will do what it does best: play for time and play at diplomacy. It will gain months, it will gain years. And when it is ready, it will enrich its uranium and once again threaten Israel with all its force.
Shaul and President Trump
From Israel’s vantage point, the outcome of this war closely resembles what the Jewish people lived through three thousand years ago, when the first king of Israel, Shaul, had the chance to wipe out Amalek: the archetypal enemy of Israel, the first antisemite in history, the one who again and again sought our destruction with relentless obsession. The Divine instruction was clear: eliminate Amalek completely, and erase that existential threat one hundred percent.
Shaul had a powerful army. He went to war —and he won! But he didn’t finish the job. He let himself be swayed by his advisers’ opinions and left the king, Agag —Amalek’s political leadership— alive and standing, along with much of his wealth and resources. Shaul’s victory was perhaps 90 percent. But in battles like these, when the threat is not eliminated to the very end, winning 90% amounts to a defeat!
And the facts bore it out. Some five hundred years later, a descendant of that same Amalekite line Shaul had spared —Haman— rose up against the Jewish people and tried to annihilate them, and only a miracle saved us from extermination. The terrible decision to leave the mission unfinished dragged us all the way to that conflict: the “seed” of Amalek survived, and once again threatened the Jews.
Netanyahu and the New Challenge
Israel’s prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, knows full well that in the Middle East you cannot declare victory while the enemy is still standing. The consequences of not uprooting that Iranian political leadership today —of leaving it standing, surviving— are a terrible burden that Israel, and perhaps in the longer run the United States and the whole world, will bear in the future, once Iran has rearmed.
I trust that, with God’s help and inspiration, Netanyahu will know how to navigate this stormy sea, in which he can neither fall out with Trump nor repeat the mistake King Shaul made: leaving unfinished the task of eliminating Amalek.
I believe the prime minister knows full well the historic role he has been given to play. And he must be weighing the possibility that now, or before long, Israel may have to face Iran “alone” —without the help of the United States—. Netanyahu’s greatest achievement would be, and this is the most delicate part, for President Trump not to oppose Israel finishing what it began exactly one year ago, in the Twelve-Day War, to remove the Iranian threat. For that, we will need a great deal of help from Heaven.
May HaShem enlighten our leaders and inspire them to attain the victory that, in the Middle East, is the only formula for achieving peace.
My uncle, Hakham Yosef Faur, z”l, told me this story when I was a child.
One day, the Sultan of Turkey—the most powerful man on earth—summoned a rabbi and said to him:
“You Jews are few and weak. You have no country and no sovereign government. You have no soldiers and no army, and you are persecuted everywhere. How is it possible that you still believe in the prophecies that say you will one day return to Jerusalem? Jerusalem is the most important city in the world. Everyone desires it. We, the Ottomans, fought the Christians for centuries to rule this city. What you claim—to return to Jerusalem and govern it—is absurd… and arrogant. I want you to explain to me how, in your view, those prophecies could ever come true. And I do not want to hear about miracles. Explain it to me from a military, earthly, natural point of view.”
The sage thought for a few moments and replied:
“I need three days to prepare my answer. But first I must ask you something: if my arguments displease you or offend you, promise me that you will not punish me.”
The Sultan, intrigued, agreed.
Three days later, the rabbi returned to the palace and asked that a small cockfighting ring be prepared. He had brought five fighting roosters, which he had kept without food for two days, and also a small chick—weak and defenseless.
He placed the roosters and the chick inside the ring. Then he took a few grains of corn from his pocket and scattered them in the center.
Immediately, the roosters began to fight with incredible fury. They pecked at each other viciously, wounding one another without mercy. One by one they fell, exhausted and bloodied. The last rooster, covered in wounds, finally collapsed to the ground, unable to move.
Then, from a corner, the timid chick appeared. And with no rooster left to bother it, it calmly began to eat the corn.
The rabbi turned to the Sultan and said:
“Jerusalem is the corn. The great powers are the fighting roosters, violently battling one another to control it. They wear themselves down, they wound each other, and they destroy one another. And when they no longer have strength, the people of Israel—the smallest and seemingly most vulnerable nation—enter the scene like the timid chick… and in the end, they are the ones who take the corn.”
The Sultan remained silent. For he understood that there are peoples who do not rise from the ashes by the power of weapons, but by the power of Emuna, faith, and resilience.
“בּוֹנֵה יְרוּשָׁלִַם ה׳”
“HaShem will build Yerushalayim”
King David does not describe the building of the capital city as an ordinary act of construction. He does not attribute it solely to human effort, but to Divine intervention. The rebuilding of Jerusalem is a visible miracle.
More than forty years ago, I was a madrich (counselor) for youth groups from Mexico who arrived at the SEC (Sephardic Educational Center) in the Old City. I remember one morning when we were traveling by bus from the Old City to the shuk, together with Rabbi Baruj Garzón. As we stopped at a traffic light, the rabbi took the microphone and said to us:
“Look, look at the miracle that is right before your eyes!”
We all looked out the window, but we didn’t see anything special—only Arab workers building a small building.
Then the rabbi added:
“What you are seeing is a miracle. The very same hands that want to destroy this country are building it.”
Generally, we don’t come to Israel in January. My wife, Coty, and I usually arrive in July and enjoy the summer. This time, however, we came in winter to spend a few days with two of our children who live in Jerusalem. The cold is more noticeable, though nothing compared to New York, and there is also far more rain than in July.
It’s normal that when one returns to Jerusalem after a few months, the city feels different. New buildings appear, new services emerge, neighborhoods expand, and structures rise. This urban renewal is known in Israel as Pinui u’Binui (“demolition and reconstruction”): older buildings are torn down and replaced with modern ones, featuring new elevators, parking, green spaces, community areas, and safer residences. Each apartment includes a reinforced “shelter room,” built for emergencies. Traditional neighborhoods such as Katamon, Arnona, Talpiot, and Baka, where we are staying now, are being transformed almost beyond recognition.
JERUSALEM UNDER CONSTRUCTION
But new residential construction is not the main reason Jerusalem feels so unmanageable in January 2026. This time, the situation is far more severe. Jerusalem is simply impossible. Traffic is unbearable. A drive that should take ten or fifteen minutes, for example, from Baka to the train station, took me more than forty-five. Estimating arrival times has become meaningless. Road closures are everywhere, detours appear without warning, and streets seem to close overnight.
Even walking has become difficult. Central areas such as King George and Ben Yehuda are barely recognizable. On King George, walking is almost impossible: barriers line the streets, roads are split in half, and traffic lanes have been reduced. Where there were once four, now there is only one. Nothing flows naturally. There is no place in the city where movement, by car or on foot, feels smooth or continuous.
The question is inevitable: what is happening to Jerusalem?
JERUSALEM LIGHT RAIL
The main culprit behind the current balagan (= chaos) in the city is the construction of three new lines of Jerusalem’s light rail, the Rakevet Hakala. What began years ago as a single line, the Red Line, which today carries more than 170,000 passengers daily, is now expanding into a full urban rail network, including underground sections, crossing Jerusalem from north to south and from east to west.
At present, two new lines are under construction. The Green Line will include about 35 stations and span roughly 20 kilometers. The more ambitious Blue Line will stretch approximately 30 kilometers, with around 50 stations, connecting Ramot in the north with Gilo in the south. In addition, a Purple Line is also planned. Once completed, the system will be four times larger than the original one: more lines, more stations, and far more connections.
This is a massive infrastructure project, designed to allow millions of people to move across the city without relying on private cars. It explains the heavy, prolonged, and noisy construction that today makes Jerusalem feel “blocked.”
But Jerusalem is not blocked. Jerusalem is in the midst of a historic transformation.
JERUSALEM HOLY BALAGAN
What is Jerusalem preparing for? First, Yerushalayim is on track to become Israel’s most populous city, with more than one million residents. But there is something deeper as well. Jerusalem is preparing for the Geula: the rebuilding of the Beit HaMikdash, the coming of the Mashiach, and the return of millions of Jews from the Diaspora to Israel.
Thanks to this new infrastructure, once the Holy Temple is restored and the Jewish people are fully returned to their land, Yerushalayim will be ready to welcome comfortably and efficiently millions of families, at least three times a year, who will come on pilgrimage for Pesach, Shabuot, and Sukkot, just as in biblical times.
Seen from this perspective, the construction chaos, the unbearable traffic, and the endless street closures are no longer merely inconveniences. They become a powerful source of inspiration.
To watch Jerusalem rebuilding itself, preparing to serve once again as the spiritual capital of the Jewish people, and of the world, is the greatest national aspiration, one that for nearly two thousand years seemed unreachable and unimaginable. Until very recently, the Jerusalem that,
Barukh Hashem, we have today was a utopian, impossible dream.
I love the balagan of Yerushalayim. I happily and proudly embrace it, with tears of joy. Jerusalem is being rebuilt before our eyes. And it will be ready very soon, waiting for all of us to come.
Shabbat Shalom, from Yerushalayim.
Urgent: Has Israel once again reasserted the legitimacy of its position through President Trump’s festive plan for a ceasefire? Did this plan trap Hamas and the Palestinian Authority, leaving them with no way out? What are the real stages of the plan? Is it good or bad for Israel? Here is an exclusive analysis for Gplanet members.
In the festive halls of Congress and the White House, Prime Minister Netanyahu managed to put forth a joint plan with the Americans that included Hamas and the Palestinian Authority. For them, it will be very difficult to escape. If they do not cooperate at all, it will be seen as a blatant act of hostility toward Israel and the United States. That, in turn, would require them to pay a heavy price. This is something Israel has not had in a long time. And who gave us this new strategic depth? President Trump.
President Trump truly believes in peace in the Middle East, and he mobilized all Arab countries on the eve of releasing the plan. Netanyahu managed to alter the wording of the plan, so that instead of being a trap for Israel, it became a trap for Hamas and the Palestinian Authority.
As we already explained this morning on our Telegram channel, the plan has turned into a “red snare” against Hamas and the PA.
In the official announcement, which partly outlines a ceasefire, Netanyahu detailed the binding conditions that Trump agreed to. These conditions now oblige Hamas.
Stage One: Hamas must release all hostages alive within 72 hours. This is the only immediate and unconditional demand. Everything else is contingent. If this does not happen within 72 hours, or if not all hostages are released, Hamas will bear the blame, and Trump will enforce the consequences.
Stage Two: If Hamas agrees to the plan, it must release everyone. This would mark an “Israeli-Palestinian ceasefire in Gaza,” but only after all hostages are freed.
Stage Three: President Trump himself will establish an international body to separate Hamas from the civilian population of Gaza. This body will consist of Arab leaders—similar to Tony Blair’s role in the past—who ultimately left Gaza impoverished and ruined. This body would supervise the demilitarization of Hamas and prevent further attacks on Israel.
Stage Four: If this international body succeeds, Israel will finally end the war, but only after full demilitarization and disarmament of Hamas. The war will not end merely with a ceasefire and the release of hostages, but only after Hamas has been fully disarmed—a stage that may never actually arrive.
This strikes at the very core of Hamas’s central demand: to end the war without disarming. Trump will not accept that.
Stage Five: Only after demilitarization will Israel conclude the war. Until then, Israel will continue targeted strikes and separations. If demilitarization does not take place, Netanyahu’s government will reject the plan.
In any case, Israel will remain in full security control around Gaza without time limits, and it will preserve its freedom to operate militarily. These are central conditions for Israel’s security. Hamas, of course, will never agree to dismantle its military infrastructure—meaning Hamas will never accept the plan.
If Hamas refuses these steps, Israel will destroy it militarily, this time with full support from Trump. In such a scenario, Israel would also be able to take additional measures.
A final clause: the Rafah crossing would be opened to allow Gazans who wish to leave, but none would be allowed to return.
As for the Palestinian Authority, it will not become a Palestinian state. Trump himself agreed to this point, as he does not trust the Arab leadership.
The PA will have no role in Gaza until it undergoes “genuine, authentic change,” in line with Trump’s 2020 conditions: dismantling terrorist militias, halting payments to terrorists and their families, stopping incitement, canceling hostile steps in international institutions, recognizing Israel as the nation-state of the Jewish people, and much more. Clearly, none of this will happen.
The plan has shifted the focus from “Israeli concessions,” which are always demanded, to American presidential demands imposed on the Palestinians. Even Macron has admitted Hamas cannot implement the plan.
The plan now opens for Israel a host of new opportunities, including expanded ties with Arab countries.
The chances that Hamas will accept the harsh conditions are minimal. Even if it pretends to say “yes, but,” the plan forces Hamas into a corner at every stage. For the first time, a plan requires immediate “payment”—the release of all hostages upfront. Hamas has rejected such conditions many times before. This time, however, Trump is personally invested, and the whole world will focus on Hamas’s refusal.
Israel is now the decisive actor, watching everything Hamas does. Every terrorist who emerges will be struck immediately. Hamas has no intention of disarming or separating from its terror organizations—on the contrary. It openly declares its defiance.
Netanyahu indeed confronted the Qatari Prime Minister over “the problem of Qatari mediation” and effectively neutralized Qatar within the process. But there is also a triangle of aid: Israeli, American, and Egyptian. To test Qatar’s hostility, consider Al Jazeera broadcasts, support for the Muslim Brotherhood, hostility toward Jews on campuses, and more. The evidence is overwhelming. Qatar is caught. From now on, an American blow against Qatar will follow.
This is a domino effect: one state after another returning to Israel’s side.
There is no chance the PA will agree to these terms—especially not recognition of Israel as the nation-state of the Jewish people. It will stumble over this point and collapse into Netanyahu’s hands. These conditions are already being discussed in a special White House conference and broadcast worldwide.
Both Hamas and the PA have already cried out for rescue after the plan’s publication.
Hamas now realizes this is a “deceptive plan,” much like the one Netanyahu and Trump imposed on Iran. If Hamas rejects or sabotages the plan, it will have to be removed from its current bases of support.
Netanyahu has also challenged Qatar directly, exposing its duplicity. Qatar’s mask has fallen, and now American measures will follow. This process represents a return of states to Israel’s orbit.
As for the PA, it will be unable to accept the terms. Recognition of Israel as the Jewish nation-state is something it will never agree to. Thus, it too is trapped.
Hamas and the PA, having cried out in distress, find themselves ensnared in Trump’s plan—unable to move forward, unable to retreat. Israel, meanwhile, holds all the cards.
Bring Them Home או Let My People Go?
לפני שנה השתתפתי בניו יורק ב־Israel Parade, המצעד השנתי הגדול למען ישראל. הסיסמה של אותה שנה הייתה מרגשת: “Bring them home” — “החזירו אותם הביתה”. התרגשתי לראות עשרות אלפי אנשים מתכנסים בסולידריות עם ישראל ועם בני הערובה הישראלים שנחטפו. צילמתי סרטונים ושיתפתי אותם עם חברים במיאמי ובבואנוס איירס.
אבל הערה של חברי היקר ליאון גרמה לי לחשוב מחדש על נאיביותי הפוליטית. ליאון שאל אותי: “למי בדיוק מופנית הקריאה הזאת? לחמאס? לקטר? למדינות ערב שמממנות ומגינות על חמאס? או בעצם לממשלת ישראל?” אז הבנתי שבלי לשים לב נפלתי למלכודת פוליטית מתוחכמת: באמירה “החזירו אותם הביתה” הלחץ מונח על ישראל, כאילו נתניהו וממשלתו הם אלה שצריכים לשחרר את החטופים.
הסיסמה הזאת אינה נועדה ללחוץ על נתניהו שיחלץ אותם במבצע צבאי. המסר הסמוי של “Bring them home” הוא אחר: “נקבל את תנאי חמאס כדי להביא אותם הביתה”. כלומר: נפסיק את המלחמה, ניכנע, נמשוך את הכוחות מהשטחים שכבשנו בעזה, נשחרר אלפי מחבלים, ניתן עוד אדמות, עוד אוכל, עוד פריבילגיות, ונשאיר את חמאס בחיים. פתאום הדרישה שאמורה להיות מופנית כלפי הרוצחים ובני בריתם הבינלאומיים — מתגלגלת לעבר ישראל!
הגישה הזאת של להאשים את הקורבן היא מעוותת. חמאס ובעלי בריתו — האירופאים, הצלב האדום, האומות המאוחדות, אונר״א וכו׳ — הם האחראים. המשקל צריך להיות מונח עליהם.
דוגמה: תארו לכם שאירופה הייתה מאיימת על הצלב האדום שתפסיק כל מימון אם לא יגיעו מיד אל בני הערובה היהודים לבדוק את מצבם ולסייע להם רפואית. אני מבטיח לכם שבאותו רגע הצלב האדום היה מתנועע מידית.
הקמפיין “Bring them home” הופך את ההיגיון המוסרי: האחריות כבר אינה מונחת על הרוצחים ובעלי בריתם — הפעילים או הפסיביים — אלא על כתפיהם של הקורבנות ושל ממשלתם. מבלי להתכוון, המשתתפים בצעדות כאלה מחזקים את הנרטיב הכוזב של חמאס: שטבח 7 באוקטובר היה תגובה “לגיטימית” להתנחלויות ולכיבוש של ישראל. “נעשה את הוויתורים שהם דורשים ויעזבו אותנו בשקט”.
לפני שנים, בטיסה מבואנוס איירס לניו יורק, צפיתי בסרט Ransom בכיכובו של מל גיבסון. בנו נחטף והפושעים דרשו כסף. בצעד נגד־אינטואיטיבי, גיבסון הופיע בטלוויזיה והכריז שלא ישלם סנט אחד. להפך — הוא הציע פרס על ראשי החוטפים. הוא איים: אם תפגעו בבני, הכסף הזה ישמש לצוד אתכם.
כל דולר שהחוטפים ביקשו הפך ללחץ נגדם. המסר היה ברור: איני נותן לכם כוח, אני לוקח מכם כוח.
עם חמאס צריך לנהוג כך. אין לתגמל את החוטף בוויתורים או בהפסקות אש שמחזקות אותו. האסטרטגיה היחידה ההגיונית היא להגדיל את הלחץ הפוליטי, הצבאי והכלכלי, עד שיבינו שחטיפת בני הערובה עולה להם יותר ממה שהיא מועילה.
הסיסמה הנכונה איננה Bring Them Home. הקריאה האמיתית היא זו שאמר משה רבנו לפרעה: “שַׁלַּח אֶת עַמִּי” — מופנית לפרעה, לא למשה.
יציאת מצרים הייתה הסוף השמח של אירוע טראגי: קודם הטבח של הילדים היהודים שהושלכו ליאור ואחר־כך החטיפה ההמונית של עם שלם, שנשבה בכוח ושועבד — לא רחוק מעזה. התורה איננה מסתירה את פרטי העימות ההוא בין משה לפרעה, כי היא רוצה שנלמד ממנה את האסטרטגיה שעלינו לזכור וליישם באירוע דומה.
בהתחלה משה נכנס לארמון עם בקשה דיפלומטית: ביקש בנימוס מפרעה לשחרר את העבדים היהודים. תגובתו הראשונה של פרעה הייתה להסלים: הוא הקשה את השעבוד. העמיס עוד עבודה, דיכא עוד יותר את העם. זו הייתה תשובתו של העריץ למילות הנימוס של משה. כצפוי, העם החל ללחוץ ולתקוף את משה.
משה חזר והראה לפרעה את כוח האל באמצעות מופתים: הפך את מטהו לנחש, הפך את מי היאור לדם והשאיר את המצרים בלי מים. בתחילה פרעה העמיד פני אדיש.
אחר־כך הגיעו מכות קשות יותר: צפרדע, כינים, ערוב, דבר. ואז הלחץ החל להשפיע.
ככל שהמכות התרבו ופגעו בכלכלה, בבריאות ובחיי היומיום של מצרים, פרעה החל לחוש את הלחץ של עמו עצמו. אז התחילו ה”משאים ומתנים”:
“עשו את הקרבנות כאן, במצרים”, הציע פרעה. משה השיב: בלתי אפשרי.
“לכו, אבל הנשים והילדים יישארו”. משה ענה: כולם יוצאים.
“לכו כולכם, אבל השאירו את רכושכם”. משה שוב סירב.
משה עמד איתן. לא קיבל תנאים. הוא לא ניהל משא־ומתן, כי ידע שעם עריצים וחוטפים לא מנהלים משא־ומתן.
כל סירוב החליש את המדכא, כי המכות הלכו והתגברו. עד שהגיעה המכה האחרונה: מכת בכורות. ורק אז, כשכאב נכנס לארמון עצמו, העריץ נשבר.
הלקח ברור: המדכא מוותר רק כשהמחיר על עקשנותו הולך וגדל.
בלתי מובן לי איך עם ישראל בשנת 2025 לא פותח את התורה כדי למצוא הדרכה ודגמי פעולה במצבים דומים. אנחנו עם הספר — אבל משאירים אותו סגור. סיפור השעבוד במצרים, הטראומה הלאומית שלנו, צריך להיות הניסיון והמדריך שלנו. חמאס, כמו פרעה, איננו מבין ויתורים או טיעונים מוסריים. הוא מבין רק לחץ ותוצאות. והוא ייכנע רק כאשר יבין שהחזקת החטופים מחלישה אותו ולא מחזקת.
אם כל יום של שביים מביא לחמאס ויתורים או הישגים פוליטיים — כמו הפגנות נגד ממשלת ישראל — חמאס ימשיך להחזיק בהם. אבל אם כל יום של שביים מביא אובדן — טריטוריאלי, פוליטי או צבאי — אז, ורק אז, הם ישוחררו.
תארו לכם דוגמה מעשית: על כל יום שחמאס לא משחרר את בני הערובה היהודים, ישראל תספח רשמית קילומטר רבוע אחד מעזה ותכריז עליו כשטח ישראלי. מה יקרה? עבור חמאס, איבוד קרקע הוא התבוסה הקשה ביותר: פסיכולוגית, צבאית ודתית. המתים הם “שהידים”, ואינם נספרים כהפסד. אבל איבוד קרקע — זה מה שהם אינם יכולים לשאת. זה, ורק זה, יכריח אותם לוותר.
הקול שלנו חייב להיות ברור ואחיד: LET MY PEOPLE GO — שַׁלַּח אֶת עַמִּי. והוא צריך להיות מופנה לכל התומכים בחמאס, במיוחד למדינות האסלאמואירופיות כמו צרפת, אנגליה, אוסטרליה וקנדה.
אסור לנו לחזור על טעויות העבר. מאז 2009, כל הפסקת אש עם חמאס שימשה אך ורק כדי שיתחמש מחדש ויתכונן לטבח הבא. ה־7 באוקטובר היה תוצאה ישירה של אותן ויתורים והסכמים שחיזקו את החוטף.
המדיניות הנכונה היחידה שישראל חייבת להחזיק בה כיום היא ברורה: לספח שטחים מעזה ולהחזיק בהם, ולהמשיך לספח עד שבני הערובה ישוחררו. בלי ויתורים. בלי משא־ומתן דרך קטר או מצרים.
על המחבלים לשאת בתוצאות פשעיהם. רק כך הם לא יחזרו עליהם.
זה עבד עם פרעה, זה יעבוד גם עם חמאס.
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