He died an honorable death. A warrior’s death, among his men, one with his people, in defense of his land against a genocidal intruder, occupier, and colonizer.

The last episode of Sinwar's life could not have been better written by the most gifted playwright: not in a tunnel, a secret bunker, or a far-off palace, and not while engaging in some unworthy act. He died resisting.

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If there's one word I could think of to describe this ending, it is Hemingwayan. This was like a scene from a Hemingway novel about Palestine (I have no doubt who Hemingway would support in this conflict).

Seeing it, I was reminded of the ending of For Whom the Bell Tolls, with the rebels holding positions on a hill with the fascists closing in on them with airplanes and machine guns, knowing they have no chance of surviving.

In his final moments, Sinwar knew that was it for him. But he did not break. A proud Palestinian, Gazan, and Muslim to his last breath.

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He was born in 1962 in Khan Yunis to a family of 1948 refugees from Al-Majdal; he was 5 when Israel occupied Gaza, and never let go to this day (but it will, eventually).

In his last act of defiance, he threw some debris at an IDF drone, and I got to thinking: did he, as a young boy, also throw stones at IDF soldiers in Gaza?

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What that refugee who spent 22 years in an Israeli prison started on October 7 is going to change world history for good. The process is only in its initial phases.