Is there any doubt in which camp Pfeffer, were he to live in the diaspora, would place himself? Liberal wafflers always permit their moral self-congratulation—I’m sorry, their more complex and uncomfortable feelings—to overwhelm clear thought. Note that there is no room in Pfeffer’s schema for those who set their feelings aside to separate the facts from the war propaganda and submit them to unsparing rational evaluation. Such men and women do exist, however. They include Caroline Glick, Bret Stephens, Alan M. Dershowitz, Charles Krauthammer, Michael Ledeen, Jeff Jacoby, Victor Davis Hanson (not a Pavlovian flag-waver, but a military historian, which is the next best thing), even the normally waffling Jonathan Chait.
Who would wish to belong to the illiberal school that minimizes innocent suffering? Even those who instinctively position themselves behind the military—we moral cowards—take a deep breath at the level of civilian deaths and destruction in the bombing of Hiroshima and Dresden. There is no comparison between those two liberal touchstones and Israel’s air war in Gaza. The aim is not to break the will of the Palestinian Arabs by bombing them indiscriminately and killing tens of thousands. Casualties number 412, according to the Washington Post. A bad number, but dwarfed by the nearly six thousand missiles that the Palestinian Arabs have sent flying into Sderot alone over the past three years. That those missiles did not manage to kill more Jews is beside the question. The intention behind them was to kill as many as possible.
The conventional literary attitude toward war is Dylan Thomas’s: “After the first death, there is no other.” Literary culture seems to require the abandonment of moral discrimination, except for the high-minded certainty that, as D. J. Enright scornfully puts it,
Does not retaliate
But averts his bleeding eyes
Not to acknowledge hate.
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