Since word came of the terrorist murder and mayhem in the Negev, I haven’t been able to get out of my head an old Israeli dance song about setting out for the desert. There has been (Lord knows) plenty of blood shed in the Negev since this long-ago song was first sung, but the first generation LP from 1950s—with the maroon cover showing an Israeli girl dancing, her long hair flung outwards as she twirls—sticks in the mind. I remember the words only partly, but they have to do with the bright gold sun streaming, and come, brothers, let’s get going, let’s return, to the desert. What have Israel’s enemies ever done in a desert except commit unspeakable crimes?

At the same time one thinks of Othello’s last words about Iago—naturally he refuses to speak to Iago. “Will you, I pray, demand that demi-devil/Why he hath thus ensnared my soul and body?” But even at the end of both their lives, Iago is too smart for Othello.  Iago has the ultimate secret, and names it i by refusing to name it. “Demand me nothing: what you know, you know:/From this time forth I never will speak word.”