First The Fire, Now These Incendiary Devices
In light of the announcement of the failure of Freeze of Settlement talks, Bibi ponders:
‘I wonder who in our government, especially in the Prime Minister’s office – you know, the office of the man who almost exclusively handled these talks – will announce in the wake of the criticism that this calamitous failure is bound to attract, that either he’s being ‘lynched by the media’ or that it wasn’t his responsibility.
Maybe it was that white haired old guy in Ramallah who has 3 S. American countries ready to recognise his people’s statehood or alternatively is ready to shut down the PA and welcome back the complete de facto occupation of the West Bank.
No wait, it’s not his fault either. I got it. It’s that black suspiciously Muslim guy in the White House. Yeah that’s it. He didn’t offer us enough – F35 planes, money, political support to neutralise that pesky white haired old man in Ramallah if he got UN General Assembly support for a unilateral declaration of independence. That’s it. That’ll work. Wait! No? It doesn’t?
So who else is there? My Cabinet colleague the Foreign Minister who no foreign country wants to host because he’s too racist?
The Defence Minister who keeps embarrassing me with his close friendship and his control, like a sultan, over those lousy settlers in the West Bank?
Or maybe then it’s the settlers after all. Yes it’s them and especially the new breed, the Hardalnikim – Haredi Dati Leumi – who reject outright the rule of Israeli law, the principles of democracy and answer to their own version of a higher authority, who run the Civil Administration and whose cousins serve in the West Bank IDF units and refuse orders to dismantle illegal outposts? No, not them?
What about the Interior Minister? No, no. They’ve already ‘lynched’ him.
Ah well, what about Sara, the wife. Yes, yes. That’s it! She’s responsible for all this. I’ll divorce her and that way save the country! Well maybe not the country. It’s too late for that. But I can save myself. Dad? Hold on. I’m comin’ home.’