Harry's Roar War, Day Four
In which Trump and Netanyahu seem to have no Endgame
I could have potentially slept through the night, Iran and Hezbollah were cooperating, but Fleurken was not. She woke me up around four am, and then around six am, for attention. Once that happened, I could not fall back asleep.
The Trump Administration is again sending mixed messages, with Marco Rubio “blaming” Israel for the more distasteful and yet inevitable consequences of war. Simultaneously, Israeli media reported that senior US officials are “furious” at Israel, because members of PM Netanyahu’s inner circle have been boasting that Netanyahu pushed Trump to launch the strike on Iran, and that the US President obeyed.
“Trump absolutely does not need Bibi and his so-called persuasion to do what is right and good for the world and the Middle East. Trump is a true leader. He knows exactly what to do and how to do it and does not need advice or persuasion from anyone. There is no need to mislead the public in Israel.”
The US officials continued, “He [Trump] believed it was the right thing to do. These things are a kind of stab in the back. It sends the wrong message to the Israeli public.”
American polling shows an overwhelming majority that opposes going to war with the Islamic Republic.
My interpretation? Just as Trump does not truly understand the Arab mindset, he also has underestimated Netanyahu’s need to control and gaslight, the lengths to which he will go in order to hold onto power.
Both Trump and Netanyahu are desperate, stubborn, ego-driven men, and at some point, their collaboration will fall apart.
Yesterday the American President clarified that he estimates this war in the region – and its expansion to the globe – will take “four to five weeks,” with room for an extension.
(To borrow from the movie, The Princess Bride, “I do not think you know what that word [Peace] means.”)
In Israel that means it will not only destroy Purim, but leak into Pessach and perhaps even into Israeli Independence Day. It means, perhaps, that my daughter will not have enough quality and in-person schooling, in order to cover the material needed for her בגרויות, Israeli mandatory testing for graduation from High School. It means that my patients will continue to fear leaving their homes, and as a general consequence, the Israeli economic market will collapse.
Some part of me wonders if Trump and Netanyahu really thought this through; in press conferences, Trump keeps using the word “hopefully.” As in, “Hopefully we won’t be heading into World War III.”
In another “whoopsie,” the Trump Administration announced that the two or three “very good choices” who would have been ‘acceptable’ to take the Khomeini’s place were all eliminated together; “...after a very successful attack, they are all dead.” Like I said, there’s some strategy and planning missing in this operation.
Picture the scene (Twilight Zone music playing in the background), it is 8:34 in the morning on Tuesday and so far it has been quiet. I am standing underneath the warm comforting water in the shower, humming a Mozart operetta, and relishing the temporary sense of serenity. Then I hear it, distant but obvious, the siren.
My daughter Raphaela opens the door and gives me a stern look, as well as shoving a robe into my arms. That’s right, my second worst nightmare regarding this war has occurred, I am going into the bomb shelter with only my birthday suit under a robe. I can check that off my BINGO card now. I then spend the next minute and a half looking for my glasses, which I cannot find because duh, I am not wearing my glasses.
We arrive to the bunker with me dripping and sneezing because of the temperature difference between our apartment and the shelter three stories below.
This is the first time this round that an armed drone has been shot at Jerusalem, and has not been intercepted by the five different systems in place meant to shoot these things down before they get to a civilian population. The group of neighbors then debates whether a ballistic missile – which can devolve into multiple pieces of shrapnel – or a military drone is more dangerous.
For the record, my first worst nightmare is being outside doing errands with no proximity to a bomb shelter, and/or sitting on a moving train when the ballistic missiles start landing upon us.
Perhaps I can achieve my first worst nightmare this afternoon, when Raphaela and I go to the supermarket to stock up on supplies. Who knows where we’ll be in the neighborhood when Iran and Hezbollah attack.