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Actually, more than one and not so much questions as points to ponder.
In the end, do you really think it matters whether the child worshiped on Friday at the mosque, Saturday at temple, or Sunday at church? One dead child is one dead child.
In the end, when two men stand in a small, dark room, both with grenades threatening to pull the pin, does it matter who started it? They will both die.
In the end, what matters the arbitrary names we place on the combatants? Phoenicians, Canaanites, Philistines, Israelites, Judeans - different names, different times, same two peoples joined by blood, split by blood. Hittites, Egyptian, Babylonians, Assyrians, Persians, Seleucid, Roman, Crusader, Ottoman, British, Soviet, American - different empires, same message, setting you one against the other for their own purposes.
With every death, whether from an American 2000 pound laser guided bomb or an Iranian copy of a Soviet Katyusha, one possibility is killed. With every act of savagery, whether begun in Tel Aviv or South Beirut, one future is destroyed. Whether payback for yesterday's assault, or last week's, or six years ago, or six thousand years ago, it only serves as the reason for tomorrow's assault.
And all of us, here, should be ashamed for continuing this ancient acrimony - insulting one another rather than working, as honest brokers, to begin the healing - at least for a while in this conflict which was old when the pyramids were built. Because, until someone, somewhere, sometime admits the possibility that it can end, it will continue - one small, dead child at a time.
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