Driving north to the war from Tel Aviv, the traffic thins gradually – until you realize abruptly that your car is the only one left on the road. The city of Safed is empty, a scene from a 1950s science-fiction film. A few residents remain, but I did not see a single one. In town after town, it’s as if a plague has struck. And one has: the plague of terrorist rockets, whose only purpose is to butcher indiscriminately. There is no looting. The empty houses of the refugees are safe. Israel pulls together, and no police patrols are needed to protect these businesses and homes. Hundreds of thousands of Israelis have been driven away from their homes, but you don’t hear much about that.