There is nothing more intoxicating, more soul-stirring, nothing more thrillingly, unstoppably transcendent, than nationism.
Until, that is, the moment that you begin to become a nation.
Take the Palestinians. Take this week.
Time was, if a large explosion rocked Jabalya refugee camp in the Gaza Strip, killing a Hamas official and wounding his eight-year-old son, you knew at once where to point the finger. Directly at Israel.
Time was, if there were a severe governmental dispute over partitioning the Holy Land, over the concept of having two independent states, over a national unity government, over the pre-1967 borders of the West Bank, over the possibility of holding a referendum to decide the issues, you knew precisely who was having the debate - Israel.
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