How many more lives must be lost? How many more acres of our beautiful land must burn before we say, "Enough is enough"?
Hezbollah's repeated attacks are not just statistics on a page or fleeting headlines. They represent shattered families, dreams turned to ash, and a landscape scarred by senseless aggression. Each rocket, each explosive drone, carries with it the potential to destroy lives and livelihoods that can never be fully restored.
The charred remains of once-thriving farmland, the acrid smell of smoke lingering in the air, the farmers who've lost decades of work in a matter of hours. The evacuees terrified to go home, because home means death and devastation.
The constant fear, the sleepless nights, the trauma etched into their faces – this is the real, devastating impact of our government's inaction.
Every day that passes without a strong Israeli response is another day our citizens live in terror. It's another day that the brave members of our emergency services risk their lives to battle fires and tend to the wounded. It's another day that the fabric of our society frays under the weight of constant threat.
The government's reluctance to take decisive action is no longer a policy of restraint – it's a dereliction of duty. Our leaders swore an oath to protect the people of this nation. Yet, they seem content to watch as our citizens bury their loved ones and watch their homes turn to cinders.
We are not calling for war. We are calling for peace – true peace that can only come when our right to safety and security is respected. Strong action now could prevent years of further suffering. It could save countless lives and preserve our precious land for future generations.
To our leaders, I say this: Look into the eyes of a child who's lost a parent to these attacks. Stand in the fields with farmers who've seen their life's work go up in flames. Listen to the sirens that pierce the night, shattering any sense of safety. Then tell us that we shouldn't "ruffle feathers."
We must act now, decisively and firmly, not out of hatred for our neighbor, but out of love for our own people and the land we call home.
Because, in addition to lives lost and land burned – the cost of inaction is measured in the slow erosion of hope. And that's not easy to earn back.
