Tear your hair, mourn your dead, heal your wounded, and root out the bloody savages who shoot guns, mortars, and rockets at unarmed men and women going about their daily lives, and slit the throats of children and infants in their cribs.
And when you’re done with that, wrest back the Sinai from the hands of the Egyptians, who have lost the capacity, on account of the chaotic loss of capacity they’re calling “Spring”—or is it an intentional, a malign, unwillingness? Who’s to say? No “expert” expert enough—to prevent acts of terror committed against you from across that magnificent Mosaic landscape you handed over to them back in the mists of time and “Peace.”
And when you’re done with that, put the inhabitants of Arab-occupied Judea and Samaria—and their European defenders with their borne-in-the-blood anti-Semitism, and their sob-sister anti-Zionist American champions—on notice: They may go to the UN, get themselves declared a State, make Ramallah their capital—if Hamas will let them—and carry on pretending they are a noble people poised to create a civilized nation. But you know what they’re really after is the sight of your blood irrigating their olive groves, and you will never let that happen.
And when you’re done with that, send the rest of the world a message: Ha am im haGolan—the nation is with the Golan (and the Golan is part of the nation)—and you won’t be passing it along to Hizballah or Lebanon or Bashar Assad or whoever follows him in the Syrian sea of misery any time in the foreseeable future.
And when you’re done with that, turn your tear-stained faces toward the butchers of Iran.