The scorpion and the frog

(Editor's note: The following is the final in a multipart series of commentaries written by a Conway man during a recent tour of Israel.)

We arrived at Ashqelon several hours after rockets from Gaza slammed into the city. In this case a school was hit, but since it was Saturday, the Sabbath, nobody was hurt. Hamas is the Muslim extremist Palestinian group that wrested control of Gaza from elected Palestinian officials. Everyone I talked with believes Hamas has absolute control of Gaza. As one man put it, "Not a single bullet should be fired from Gaza without Hamas direction."

So, why do they do it? They must know that when the Israelis get tired of being shot at they're going to react. They must know that the reaction is going to visit hardship, danger and death on their people. They must know that, as a practical matter, there really isn't much they can do at this point to blunt an Israeli attack. So, again, why do they do it?

Some believe that $900,000,000 promised the Palestinians by Mrs. Clinton is a pretty good reason. They point out that Hamas can make lots of revolution for $900,000,000, and the United States hasn't been very good at keeping track of where our money goes. The joke goes that you can have a new city from the Americans if you get the Israelis to destroy the one you have. It isn't very funny. The most believable explanation is that Hamas doesn't like the way things are now so they want to burn it all down and start over. It still doesn't make much sense.

I was pondering the question when my friend told me this story.

A scorpion found himself on the Israeli side of the Jordan River. He needed to go over the river to see his family in Jordan, but being a scorpion, couldn't swim. Along came a frog, obviously bound for the other side of the river.

"Frog," said the scorpion, "Give me a ride to the other side of the river."

"No." exclaimed the frog. "If I let you anywhere near me you will sting me, and I will die. It has always been so."

"Maybe," answered the scorpion, "it's time to change. Get in the water, and I will jump on your back. That way if I sting you, you will sink, and we will both die. You will be safe."

"No." Answered the frog. "I don't believe you."

"Come, come," said the scorpion. "This could be a new beginning for us. A new way ahead where I rely on you for transportation across the river, and you no longer have to fear my sting. Consider this an opportunity for peace between us."

Reluctantly the frog agreed. He got in the water, the scorpion jumped on his back and they headed for the east bank of the Jordan. When they reached the middle of the river, the scorpion stung the frog. With his last gasp before sinking, the frog croaked, "Why?"

"Because," gasped the scorpion as he sank, "this is the Middle East."

I never felt threatened during my visit to Israel. In fact, I've been more uncomfortable in certain parts of Little Rock, Los Angeles and Chicago. But I also come home with serious doubts about our ability to foster peace there. Despite the good, albeit arrogant, intentions of U.S. presidents and secretaries, any hope of a peaceful solution seems to me several generations away, at least. In the meantime we need to tend to our own knitting. I think we need to be mindful of American interests in the region, who our friends are and where our commitments lie. Anything can happen here.

After all, it is the Middle East.