AND SUDDENLY: quiet. No Qassams. No mortar shells. The tanks are not rolling. The aircraft are not bombing.

In Sderot, sighs of relief. Children venture out. Inhabitants who have exiled themselves to other towns return home.
 
And the reaction? An outburst of jubilation? Dancing in the streets? Applause for the Prime Minister and the Minister of Defense, who at long last have come to their senses?

Not at all. The expression on the nation's face is a grimace of disgust. What kind of thing is that? Where is our victorious army?

AFTER MONTHS of a tough and bitter race, a merciless struggle, Barack Obama has defeated his formidable opponent, Hillary Clinton. He has wrought a miracle: for the first time in history a black person has become a credible candidate for the presidency of the most powerful country in the world.

The subject of a Tibet-China clash had been in the air for some time. Stories had appeared in the press about a massive campaign of protest being planned by Tibetan exiles in India. But it was not yet on boil – until one fine day, on March 14, it worked its way out of the back pages of the papers through to the headlines and spread like wildfire. Uprising! Street battles in Lhasa the capital! Reports of demonstrations and mass protests. Police battling the rebels, many killed – all with shocking pictures of streets strewn with bodies.

Every time I hear the voice of David Ben-Gurion uttering the words "Therefore we are gathered here…" I think of Issar Barsky, a charming youngster, the little brother of a girl-friend of mine.

"Hey! Take your hands off me! Not you! You!!!" - the voice of a young woman in the darkened cinema, an old joke. "Hey! Take your hands off Tibet!" the international chorus is crying out, "But not from Chechnya! Not from the Basque homeland! And certainly not from Palestine!" And that is not a joke.

Dear Ben Dror Yemini,

I read your posting on the NRG website about Zochrot (Hebrew). I read, and thought to myself, "Forget it." Why make the effort to respond? The differences between us seem so great, and I'd have to write so much even to get within hearing distance, so that even now, while I'm sitting and writing, I say to myself again, "Forget it; why even bother. Get on with your life." I'm strongly tempted to drop the whole thing. But there's something else tempting me, my fingers itching on the keyboard, to join the cockfight. Perhaps because of the tremendous distance I'd have to travel to reach you, it's easier and more tempting to get within shouting distance, rather than close enough for an actual conversation. I'm tempted. You yelled, "Enemy!" I'll yell back, "Fascist!" You yelled, "Warped!" I'll respond, "Racist!" You yelled, "Hamasnik!" I'll cry, "Settleroist!" And we'll go on like that until both of us are dead, hopefully in the fullness of our years, two bitter, hoarse foes.

After the massacre of the young Yeshiva students in the neighborhood of Kiryat Moshe, a mere four minute drive from my house, I saw in my minds eye (and then on TV) the parents and family members of these kids. I must admit it brought tears to my eyes, as it is hard to conceive of 15 and 16 year olds lying injured on the library floor, remembering that these are my people who speak my language. It is true that I felt the same when seeing the massacred children in Gaza, even though they were not my people, and did not speak my language. Only he who truly mourns the murder of an innocent Palestinian child, can also identify with all his heart with a murdered innocent Israeli child. The blood of the innocent flows freely in this land, and those who believe in peace primarily dream of an end to the bloodshed. My spiritual and ideological objection to Merkaz Harav Yeshiva does not detract from this in any way. One should first show respect to the bereavement and pain, and only then reckon with the religious Right, as I intend to do in this article.

This is not a joke (and this is not a week for jokes). It is a lesson in psychology. I was reminded of it when I read Ehud Olmert's statement that more than anything else he was furious about the outburst of joy in Gaza after the attack in Jerusalem, in which eight yeshiva students were killed.

We Israelis live in a world of ghosts and monsters. We do not conduct a war against living persons and real organizations, but against devils and demons which are out to destroy us. It is a war between the Sons of Light and the Sons of Darkness, between absolute good and absolute evil. That's how it looks to us, and that's how it looks to the other side, too.