Walk-of-Peace Met by Flames of Antisemetic Hate

Flames of Hate

Peace met by Hate

Mohamed Sabry Soliman, 45 Flame Thrower

On a sunlit Sunday afternoon, the heart of Boulder’s Pearl Street Mall pulsed with the gentle footsteps of a community united in hope. The “Run for Their Lives” walk, a weekly ritual, was never meant to be newsworthy. It was a gathering of neighbors, many in their golden years, walking for the safe return of Israeli hostages—an act of remembrance, empathy, and solidarity. Their cause was simple: to shine a light on suffering, to remind the world that every life matters, and to do so with dignity and peace

The Attacker: Searching for Meaning in Cruelty

A man, shirtless and agitated, emerged from the crowd. He wielded not words, but fire—a makeshift flamethrower and incendiary devices, hurled with chilling intent. “Free Palestine,” he shouted, as flames engulfed the innocent. Six people, aged 67 to 88, were injured. Two were so badly burned that they had to be airlifted to a Denver hospital’s burn unit. The others, too, bore wounds—on their bodies, and deep within their souls.

The suspect, Mohamed Sabry Soliman, 45, was quickly apprehended. He had been injured during the attack and was taken to a hospital. Authorities say he acted alone, and while he shouted a political slogan, the deeper reasons for his cruelty remain elusive. What brings a person to such a moment? What pain, what fury, what loss of empathy must precede the decision to turn fire on strangers?

It is tempting to search for answers in ideology, to blame movements or slogans. But cruelty is always, at its core, a failure of imagination—a refusal to see the humanity in others. The victims of this attack were not symbols or enemies; they were people, each with a story, each deserving of safety and dignity.

Who Was There, and Why?

The people targeted were not politicians or provocateurs. They were grandparents, neighbors, and friends—gathered not to incite, but to remember. The “Run for Their Lives” event is a weekly tradition, drawing attention to the plight of hostages held in Gaza since October 7, 2023. For many, it is a sacred obligation, an act of hope and a plea for compassion in a world too often divided by hate.

On this day, the walk coincided with the eve of Shavuot, a Jewish holiday celebrating the giving of the Torah—a time for reflection, gratitude, and community. Instead, it became a day of mourning and fear.

The Scene: A Community’s Nightmare

Witnesses recall the chaos: the acrid smell of burning, the screams, the desperate attempts to smother flames. Some victims rolled on the grass, others were helped by bystanders who risked their own safety to save strangers. Police and emergency responders arrived within minutes, their training overtaken by the raw urgency of human suffering

Boulder Police Chief Stephen Redfearn, his voice heavy with sorrow, spoke for the city: “Our thoughts are primarily centered on their healing… We recognize that this incident has far-reaching consequences across various communities, and we are committed to standing by and assisting the victims of today’s attack.” He added, “There is a significant level of distress and confusion regarding how and why this occurred. However, I can assure you that Boulder has previously overcome acts of violence, and we will emerge from this situation once more”14.

The Aftermath: Compassion and Resolve

As the smoke cleared, Boulder’s spirit was tested, but not broken. Governor Jared Polis, himself a member of Colorado’s Jewish community, spoke with gravity and grace: “My thoughts go out to the people who have been injured by this heinous and targeted act on the Jewish community. Boulder is strong. We have overcome tragedies together and will get through this together as a community… Hate is unacceptable in our Colorado for all, and I condemn this act of terror”.

The Anti-Defamation League and other organizations echoed these sentiments, reminding us that antisemitism is not a relic of history, but a present and growing danger. Across party lines, lawmakers stood together in condemnation, their differences eclipsed by the shared imperative to protect the vulnerable and reject hate678.