While we were en route to the Golan plateau,...
"Isn't it rich. Are we a pair. Me here at last on the ground and you in mid-air. Where are the clowns? Isn't it bliss. Don't you approve. One who keeps tearing around, one who can't move. But where are the clowns? Send in the clowns. Don't you love farce? My fault, I fear. I thought that you'd want what I want... Sorry, my dear! But where are the clowns Quick - Send in the clowns Don't bother, they're here." This song should be the theme song for our Congress.
TIBERIAS, Israel -- Atop the Golan Heights, there are thousands of fruit trees, vineyards, acres of wheat, vegetables, herds of cattle and a half-million or more land mines. The livestock and produce were brought here and cultivated by Israeli citizen-soldiers -- people who beat their swords into plowshares to wrest farmland from a battlefield. The land mines were planted by the Syrian army. The Golan plateau is an object lesson for American policymakers who believe that the Israelis need only trade a little more land in exchange for peace. It just isn't so.
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