There are moments when words fail—when language itself is too weak, too inadequate to capture the sheer magnitude of horror. This is one of those moments.
Consider the image: a mother, arms wrapped around her babies—not for herself, not out of fear, but in one final act of protection against the terror closing in. She wasn’t pleading for her own life. She was whispering to her children, soothing them as only a mother can, even as she knew that the monsters had come.
And they came. Let’s be absolutely clear: this was not war. This was not an accident. This was the calculated, premeditated slaughter of Jewish infants. Their only crime? Being Jewish. But the depravity did not stop there. When Hamas returned the bodies, they did so in locked coffins with no keys. The IDF had to force them open, wary of booby traps, because Hamas weaponizes even the dead.
Then came the final twist of cruelty. The woman’s body they returned? It wasn’t even Shiri’s. Forensic experts confirmed it—Hamas handed over a random corpse, as if any mutilated woman would suffice, shocking Israel and the world. Hamas chose to taunt, deceive, and desecrate. And how did Gaza respond? They celebrated. They poured into the streets like a parade, rejoicing over coffins. They cheered, danced, and raised their children—not to mourn, not to grieve, but to glorify the slaughter of Jews. The same people who demand “humanitarian aid” turned a funeral into a festival. Twenty-four hours later, they returned her body, claiming it was a simple mix-up.
And the world? The world watched. Oh, and let’s talk about the world. Let’s talk about the people who sip their overpriced oat milk lattes, adjusting their Gucci belts and Dior sunglasses between bites of their avocado toast, smugly convincing themselves they’re on the right side of history. The ones who scream about oppression from the comfort of their West Elm couches while living off trust funds their fathers built in the very system they claim to hate. These are the people who ripped down hostage posters, sneering as they tossed them into garbage bins between SoulCycle classes. The ones who chant “free Palestine” as they post selfies from their iPhones. The ones who sit in Brooklyn cafés, draped in designer brands, while celebrating the assault and murder of Israeli women.
They call themselves “activists.” They call themselves “progressives.” They call themselves moral. But let me tell you exactly what they are. They are frauds. They are accomplices to terror. Just as the world looked away during the Holocaust, they look away now. They look away from the babies burned alive. From the families tortured and executed in front of each other. They look away—or worse, they cheer.
But we will not look away. We will not let these faces disappear into history, reduced to another footnote in the world’s indifference. We will not allow their deaths to be excused as “the price of war” while their murderers are shielded by the lies of victimhood. And we will not be told to forgive. Forgiveness is for those who seek redemption. For those who acknowledge their crimes and beg for atonement. Forgiveness is not for monsters.
It is not for those who butcher Jewish babies and then parade their own infants as trophies. It is not for those who turn funerals into celebrations. It is not for those who hand over a mutilated body and call it justice. It is not for the latte-drinking, Prada-wearing, basement-dwelling “revolutionaries” who actively cheer for Jewish genocide. There can be no coexistence with those who celebrate death. There can be no peace with those who raise their children to revel in slaughter. There can be no mercy for those who have none.
So don’t ask me to temper my words. Don’t ask me to soften my rage in the name of diplomacy. Let’s not forget what happened on October 7. It was not just babies slaughtered in their homes. It was entire families burned alive, young women dragged from their beds and assaulted in the streets, elderly Holocaust survivors abducted from their wheelchairs. It was fathers shot in front of their children, concertgoers massacred in the hundreds, and human beings hunted down, executed, and desecrated—just for being Jews. This was the largest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust.
The world may want to forget. But WE will not. Because they did not get to wake up today. They will never see tomorrow. And that is an injustice so profound, so unforgivable, that it demands more than grief. It demands action. It demands vengeance. The world can wring its hands and issue its platitudes. But the only language these monsters understand is the one spoken through fire and iron. And that is exactly what they should receive.
No, we will not forget. And no, we will never, ever forgive.
In the face of such profound loss, we hold onto hope. We pray for the safe return of all those still missing. May they come back to us alive, and may their families find solace in their reunion.
Linda Argalgi Sadacka is a writer, political strategist, community organizer, and Jewish activist dedicated to combating antisemitism. A delegate for the ZOA in the WZO elections, she works to protect Jewish interests worldwide. Known for her impactful advocacy, media presence, and writing, she actively mobilizes communities and fights for Israel. Follow her on Instagram: @LindaAdvocate
Linda Argalgi Sadacka
