The world has seen too many pictures of starving Palestinian children.
Far, far too many for the world to ever forget the president who lead the leader of the country attacking aid convoys and depriving these babies from food. I’ve seen the images, myself. They shook me to my core. From the Armenian Genocide, the Bengal or Irish famine or the crisis in Darfur, such images are tattood to one’s retina and never forgotten…
This is the legacy of Benjamin Netanyahu. This, if nothing else. I’m a father. I kiss my children goodnight each evening, and they never go to bed hungry. They’re comfortable, and satisfied. The same is true for the grandchildren of Netanyahu — they want for nothing, need nothing, and will never find themselves starving to death, begging for just another bite of food, just another sip of water, living between hope and fear, afraid it might be the last thing they’ll ever taste…
There’s nothing in the world more heartbreaking than having to put to bed your children on an empty stomach. And there is no entity in this world more despicable than those who would cause starvation, fire deliberately at aid convoys and humanitarian workers and open fire on ambulances and journalists. Netanyahu’s legacy will forever be a dying child’s big eyes, staring you deep down into the soul, asking: “Why?”
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