I am a son of this moment.

Since October 7, for over 2 1/2 years, I have lived inside a nightmare that the world prefers to read in headlines and forget by morning.

We buried our dead. We waited in agony for any word of the hostages. We ran with our children to shelters as sirens tore the sky. We watched our sons and daughters, our brothers and sisters, our neighbors leave for war, not knowing if we would see them again. Every day brought new names, new graves, new silences that no prayer could fill.

I saw this. I lived it. And beside the war, I watched something else unfold. Something almost as terrible:

the world’s response.

What began as a flicker of horror at the largest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust soon twisted into accusation. The murdered became footnotes. The hostages vanished from memory. The Jewish state, bleeding and besieged, was placed in the dock. Those responsible for the atrocities were granted explanation, context, and accommodation.

I documented it day after day. Not because I wanted to, but because I could not look away. What I thought I was........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)