Everything is Permitted – A Three-Act Play

It was a three-act play. The setting: the Oval Office. The lead actor: the ruler of an empire who calls himself “the King.” Surrounding him: a chorus of cheerleaders in suits, each vying to glorify and elevate him, competing to recite his falsehoods the loudest. This is a dystopian drama set in a virtual reality. The audience watches, bewildered, struggling to believe their eyes.

In the first act, “the King,” heavyset and imposing, sits with a leaner man, much younger, bearing the title “President.” He speaks English with a pronounced French accent, joking hesitantly with “the King,” sometimes timidly stroking his ego, fearful of exposing his lies. And when he does, he smiles apologetically, as if to say: “Don’t take me too seriously.” What brought “the President” to the Oval Office? He pleads, flatters, and tries to change “the King’s” mind about “the Actor” who is set to appear in the third act.

In the second act, for the same purpose, enters “the Prime Minister,” whose polished English impresses “the King.” In a conciliatory gesture, he hands over a royal invitation from the British monarch. “The American King” seems amused and at ease, and “the Actor’s” fate appears secure.

But in the third act, the plot twists. “The Actor” enters – clad in military fatigues, his English broken, laden with a thick Ukrainian accent. Compared to the Frenchman and the Englishman, he looks tense, fully aware that he is walking into a well-laid ambush. “The King” does not conceal his disdain. It seems that all the Frenchman’s and the Englishman’s efforts were in vain. “The King” repeats his accusations: “You have no cards to play. Without me, you are nothing.” He parrots, word for word, the arguments of his “Tsar” friend, who has recently seized vast swaths of “the Actor’s” homeland. In desperation, “the Actor” dares to do the unthinkable—he tries to point out “the King’s” mistake. But “the King’s” henchman immediately scolds him, and “the Actor” is unceremoniously expelled from the kingdom, left to face the eastern beast alone.

A few weeks earlier, in the same Oval Office, a very different kind of leader was hosted—an honored guest, the first to be invited to the kingdom. This guest was cut from the same cloth as “the King.” He came from the wounded, blood-soaked Jewish state, fresh from a war fought on seven fronts. He is wanted in Europe for war crimes; like “the King,” he is perpetually pursued by his nation’s deep state. For him, lying is the norm, and corruption is a way of life. His genius lies in his gamble—betting on “the King’s” return to power—and together, they weave fantasies detached from reality.

In this scene, “the American King” is at ease, while “the King of Israel” reclines comfortably, savoring the delusions spewing from his host. “The King of Israel” carries on his back the greatest failure to befall the Jewish people since the Holocaust: the ruthless massacre of his citizens—elderly, women, and children—and the abduction of hundreds taken as hostages by savages emerging from the sprawling refugee camp known as Gaza. While he indulges in a luxurious weekend, his people continue to march the streets in desperate protest: “Free our hostages, take responsibility for your actions, establish a state commission of inquiry, call for new elections, do something to heal the nation’s bleeding wounds.” But he remains unmoved, refusing to bear any responsibility. Like “the American King,” “the Russian Tsar,” and “the Turkish Sultan,” he believes God chose him to rule. And, like his American counterpart, he surrounds himself with a chorus of cheerleaders, faithfully reciting his lies.

As they sit comfortably in the Oval Office, “the American King” prattles on about his vision for peace in our conflict-ridden region, while “the King of Israel” chuckles in disbelief. “How did I get so lucky?” he wonders. “The American King” lays out his vision for “the day after”: “You just need to clear out all of Gaza’s residents, scatter them to the winds, and I—as a former contractor—will clear the rubble and build Mar-a-Gaza, the Mediterranean Riviera!” The words sound delightful to “the King of Israel.” Original! Genius! Truly thinking outside the box!

Imagine this: until now, “the King of Israel” has been tearing his hair out, caught between two opposing demands. On one side, most of his people demand, “Free the hostages, even at the cost of stopping the war!” On the other, his messianic partners warn: “Continue the war, or be deposed!” “The King of Israel” entered the Empire-beyond-the- sea tormented and left it elated. He returned home proclaiming, “Eureka! There’s a plan for ‘the day after’—transfer! This time, with approval and legitimacy.”

As they sit comfortably in the Oval Office, “the American King” prattles on about his vision for peace in our conflict-ridden region, while “the King of Israel” chuckles in disbelief. “How did I get so lucky?” he wonders. “The American King” lays out his vision for “the day after”: “You just need to clear out all of Gaza’s residents, scatter them to the winds, and I—as a former contractor—will clear the rubble and build Mar-a-Gaza, the Mediterranean Riviera!” The words sound delightful to “the King of Israel.” Original! Genius! Truly thinking outside the box!

Unbelievable. What was once an unmentionable messianic fantasy has overnight become an operational plan. “Transfer!” his loyalists cheer. And so, we have arrived at this moment. “The King of Israel” has declared that the hostage release-deal he recently signed with the monsters is null and void. There’s a “new King” beyond the sea, and everything agreed upon before him has expired.

And now what? After a year and a half of war, in which none of its objectives have been achieved, the army is once again ordered to prepare for battle. According to “the American King’s” vision, they must make life in Gaza a living hell. “But we’ve already made their lives hell,” cry the hostages’ families. “No,” answers the King of Israel, “this time, we will unleash a hell unlike any the world has ever seen. We will cut off food, water, and electricity. We will starve them and torment them until the monster gives in and returns our hostages without any concessions on our part. Today, everything is permitted.” Some ask: “Will this actually bring the hostages home?” But that question is irrelevant now. What matters is the fate of the King of Israel. And, following the example of the American King, in order to remain on the throne, everything is permitted.

After the humiliating expulsion of the Ukrainian Actor from the kingdom in the third act, the world was left gaping in shock, eagerly awaiting what would come next. Meanwhile, in our own small and tormented kingdom, some found encouragement in these developments. One of the admirers of the King of Israel, Naveh Drori, wrote in a respected daily newspaper about “the connection between Ukraine and Gaza” under the headline “There’s a New Boss,” stating: “For Israel, this could be a positive development.”

A nation that had just faced a multi-front attack, threatening its existence, now sees the sacrifice of another nation to a bloodthirsty Tsar as something “that could be a positive development.”

It seems the world has veered off its moral axis. Human existence is losing its meaning: Two million Gazans face annihilation, hostages are abandoned to their fate, soldiers are sent to fight phantoms and sacrifice their lives for the King of Israel, who has embraced the delusions of the American King. It turns out that this is what hell looks like: people being sent into the fire as an offering for a false king who has inscribed on his banner the saying, “There is none beside me.” This is how the prophet Isaiah described the spirit that ruled the Kingdom of Babylon—a kingdom that has long since vanished, leaving behind only a desolate and shattered land.

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