Playing With Fire

[An Open Letter to Gil Na'amati, who was shot by Israeli soldiers as he climbed the partition fence near K'far Mas'cha.]

Isaac Kohn,

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לבן ריק
Arutz 7
[An Open Letter to Gil Na'amati, who was shot by Israeli soldiers as he climbed the partition fence near K'far Mas'cha.]

Dear Mr. Na'amati,

Although your political stance is totally opposite of mine, please accept my sincere and warm wishes for your speedy and total recuperation. May your wounds heal completely, both physically and emotionally. A swift recovery indeed.

Who am I? Why am I writing to you? I represent those Israelis, those Jews you personally have no use for.

Why am I writing? Because when I heard that you were shot as a passive, innocent, peaceful demonstrator, I rushed to my bookshelf in order to check the dictionary. I wished to learn the meaning of three words: coward, traitor, wimp. Amazingly, all three had your picture. I wonder why?

As you noticed from my opening line, I wished you recovery, but I did not convey my sympathy. I did not, because, frankly, I have very little, if any, sympathy for what you portray or represent.

Over one-thousand Jews, in the last three years of the latest terrorism, lay buried in the name of your false god. And what exactly is your god, Mr. Na'amati? The god of self-hate and loathing? The god of consorting with the enemies, who tolerate your presence until the time comes that you become expendable?

Mr. Na'mati, I abhor you and your kind. I despise your seditious acts against G-d and country. I have total disdain for your back-stabbing connivance on behalf of our enemies. I have total contempt for your cowardly tactics, designed to besmirch Israel in front of her enemies. I am outraged at your audacity to provoke a fire-fight, so that one of your consortium will become a shahid on the altar of Islamofascism.

What truly appalls me, Mr. Na'amati, is not that you were shot, but rather I'm truly shocked that the IDF was lacking in its training. The soldiers ought to be charged with allowing an enemy to escape alive.

I wish you, Mr. Na'amati, a speedy recovery so that you may be put on trial for consorting with the enemy, defacing and destroying government property, threatening those who are charged with protecting the country against those, like you, who will do what they can to destroy it. Basically, I want to see you tried and convicted for your cowardice and audacity.

You remind me, Mr. Na'amati, of the fellow charged with murdering his parents. Standing in front of the judge to hear his sentence, he fell to his knees pleading for mercy.

"Your Honor," cried the mental midget, "please have mercy on me because I'm an orphan."

You are an instigator; why else were you there, Mr. Na'amati, to give out candies? To congratulate the weary soldiers for the difficult job they do in protecting us from the likes of you? Whom are you kidding? When one plays with fire, one is bound to get burned. You did.

Best wishes.





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