Suddenly, This High Ranking General Grabbed My Ass. Yes, Really.

For women there is virtually no way to move through life without experiencing sexual assault at least once, if not more. This is no joke.

Lately the world marked the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women and I decided to write something deeply personal, because it must finally be said without filters or polite pretenses. For women there is virtually no way to move through life without experiencing sexual assault at least once, if not more. There is a spectrum of severity, from what society conveniently labels as minor violations all the way to the kind of brutal and soul shattering sexual violence that destroys the body and murders the spirit.

Since the October 7th genocide I have spoken, rightfully so, about rape as a weapon of war: International Women’s Day: Let's cheer for those who have a vagina but NO HEART and NO SOUL!

Hamas-ISIS terrorists, together with countless so called “innocent Gazans”, used sexual violence deliberately and proudly against innocent Israelis. Babies, women, men, the elderly, across all ages and all genders, they spared no one. They gang raped civilians to death. Israeli hostages who recently returned from Gaza’s hell testified to the sexual atrocities they endured at the hands of the monsters beyond that fence. These satanic crimes against humanity must be spoken about relentlessly in order to expose the depth of moral depravity and the culture of predatory rapists that Palestinian society has nurtured and celebrated. The victims, both those murdered and those who survived the horrific sextual violence, deserve voices that will not stop speaking the truth. I honor them and I will continue doing exactly that.

Without taking away a single inch from everything written above, I want to speak now not as an Israeli responding to a genocide but as a woman in the world. I want to share a personal story of sexual assault to show how complex, widespread and devastating this subject truly is. Even now, as a Substack writer with a large audience, I am verbally molested on a daily basis by misogynistic dimwits, including some who actually follow my content.

I have to speak out. And I will.

Here is a link to the full video: The Refugee Lie: What They Don’t Teach You at Qatar-Funded Ivy League Universities where I lay out hard facts clearly and intelligently, if I may say so myself. Facts he could not care less about. What actually grabbed his attention was his own pathetic version of a call for action... And by call for action I obviously mean the one thing his prehistoric brain could come up with. His contribution, in full, was the deeply sophisticated line: “Show me your tits, or shut up please.”

These misogynistic swine, cut from the same rotten cloth as the Islamists I write about on Substack, treat women like disposable property and flood my page with the rancid filth that spills out of the hole where their face should be.

This is my daily reality. It has absolutely nothing to do with the content of what I say. It happens for one reason only, and that reason is that I am a woman. He even had people liking his disgusting comment, and he was apparently “polite” enough to end it with a please…

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One story out of many. And yes, what a bummer.

As a woman working in the security industry, I was unfortunate enough to endure countless sexual assaults and face more than a handful of problematic situations. Too many times I had to walk between the drops, too many times and in too many ways. This is a sphere that is still very much controlled by men, at least for now, and as a woman holding various positions in this field, you feel it. It has an undeniable impact on you.

The story I am about to share is only one example out of many I have encountered, and I truly wish that were not the case. Decent people must be aware of this reality in order to fight it, and that is why I am willing to share this experience with you, dear readers. I hope it will strike a nerve and bring attention to an issue that deserves far more awareness.

Before I begin, I want to make two critical points absolutely clear:
First, nothing I write here comes from self pity. Being a woman has countless advantages that cannot be overstated. I am a strong woman, and I am deeply aware of the power I have as a woman. I speak about something that offended me, but I speak from a place of strength.
Second, I love men. I do not hate men and I am not here to parade any form of radical feminism. I simply do not like men who hate me and other women. That is all. Men who respect women are, in fact, as sexy as can be.

Now that this is clear, and sorry for the long build up, here is my story.

About six years ago, when I was working as a Marketing PMO in one of the most advanced simulation companies in Israel, and truly one of the best in the world, a company that provides simulation for both the military and the civilian sectors, we hosted a large scale event in Israel. High ranked commanders and security personnel from all over the world attended.

In addition to being responsible for the VR station we had there, I was also welcoming the honored guests, speaking with them on various relevant topics and giving them a sense of the innovative work we were doing. And honestly, I had a blast. Fascinating people came to the event and showed genuine interest in our work. There were many potential leads, many potential friendships and many smiles. So far, all was wonderful.

Many photos were taken at the event, most of which cannot be shared for obvious reasons. At one point I was invited to join a group photo with several foreign generals from around the world, and I happily stepped in, proud of the accomplishment of my company. This high end event brought some of the most impressive figures in global security all the way to the Holy Land to explore our cutting edge technology, and I was genuinely honored to stand there.

As I stood in position for the photo, with my hands placed formally in front of my body, surrounded by generals and a few colleagues, I suddenly felt a squeeze. Yes, you guessed it correctly. One of the European generals standing beside me reached behind me in mid pose, grabbed one of my cheeks with his entire palm and squeezed it hard.

I froze on the spot. I felt my face drain of color.

The photo ended, everyone scattered, and I was left standing there. Completely shocked to my core. I could not move. I remember feeling utterly disoriented. I could not believe that this European high ranked general, a man from a country I no longer even remember because my mind suppressed it, had just grabbed my ass. In my country. At my company’s event. And he did it to me, a woman young enough to be his daughter.

It took me a moment to return to myself. The first thing I saw when I finally glanced out of the shock bubble I was trapped in was his gaze. He was talking to someone, and then he looked at me with a winner smile. Winner in both senses of the word…

I felt furious at myself. It is very unlike me to freeze like that. I kept thinking that I should have done something. But what exactly could I have done? Yell at him and blow up the entire event? Confront him so he could deny everything and I would be the one creating a diplomatic rift between his European country and Israel? What was I supposed to do? Shoot him? What?

These were the questions circling in my head while this son of a b*tch kept looking at me, smiling with total contempt, as if he had climbed a mountain and collected his trophy. I will never forget that psychotic smile, the smile of an evil pareve clown whose sick eyes seemed to say, I have won and there is nothing you can do about it and you know it.

And yes, if I am honest with you, in that moment I wanted to cut his d*ck off.

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Here is another Substack user who hates women. Why not show your face? We would love to see you, you probably virgin and most definitely chauvinistic creature.

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I was shaking with anger, but I put my big girl pants on and carried on as professionally as I could. I am a serious person and I will not let anyone damage my work. At the end of the event, my colleagues and I were accompanying the guests to the private buses that would take them from the field to their hotels. I walked slowly because I saw him ahead of me. I did not want to get anywhere near him, yet somehow I ended up close. He was standing by the buses, talking. Leave already. Go away. That was all I could think.

I shook hands with other generals as they prepared to leave. Again he looked at me from where he stood, smiling, and I stared right back at him with a sharp face, trying to communicate telepathically a very clear message that he could go straight to hell for being such a douchebag. Then he took a step in my direction and I did not wait for a second one. I turned around immediately and walked back toward the event with full confidence, my back straight and my pride intact. I have not seen him since, thank God.

I did not tell anyone about this for quite some time. To be honest, I do not even remember if I ever told my boss about it back then. Even if I did, it must have been long after the fact, because I had no idea how he might react. I did not think there was any value in disclosing it. Maybe at some point I said something like, by the way, one of the European generals grabbed my ass in the middle of the photo… but I am not even sure I did… I don’t remember.

I stayed angry about it for a long while, and then something hit me. Karma is a bigger bitch than he is, and I am certain that at some point, in one form or another, he will get exactly what he deserves.

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This is only one story. One out of many. One out of far too many. And the sad truth is that almost every woman reading this has her own version of it, with her own predator, her own moment of freezing, her own anger that stayed in her body long after the incident itself. We do not often talk about these moments because we are afraid of being dismissed, pitied, mocked or even blamed by morally perverted people who accuse the woman in a short dress instead of the predator who touched her without consent. You know, the ‘good old’ victim blaming. Most times we keep it to ourselves because the world has taught us to swallow it quietly and carry on like nothing happened. So he grabbed your ass. Big deal, right?

Well, no. I am outspoken and proudly so. I believe in the power of calling things by their name. When we shine a light on what we refuse to accept, we weaken those who depend on secrecy and shadows. Predators survive in darkness. Light destroys their shelter.

Silence protects predators. And I should have confronted this general back then. I made a mistake, and I regret it.

Speaking protects women. Speaking protects everyone.
Speaking protects truth.
Speaking protects the next girl who deserves a world where her body is not a hunting ground for men who think they can grab whatever they want because they wear a uniform or hide behind a screen.

Let us remember something simple and eternal: The shame belongs to the predator and only to him. He is the one who should carry it for the rest of his miserable days.

To those reading this, the good ones, the respectful ones, know this: you are needed more than you realize. Your presence, your voice, your refusal to tolerate this behavior makes a difference. You are part of the solution and I thank you for it.

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These men in this photo were professional, respectful and wonderful to meet during an event I attended in the Czech Republic.

A wonderful friend I made while presenting advanced simulation systems to the British Army. Truly lovely troops!

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To the rest, the misogynists, the creeps, the keyboard cowards, the generals who grab and the idiots who write “show me your tits or shut up please”, understand this clearly:

Women are done absorbing your filth! We are done giving you the luxury of silence. We are free and strong women and we grow stronger and more successful every single day!

I will keep writing, keep exposing and keep speaking. Not because I enjoy the fight, but because the fight is necessary until every woman can stand in a photo, walk in the street or speak online without being treated like prey.

Respect has no gender. Humanity is unisex.

Every man should treat women the way he would want his mother or his little sister to be treated. And until that becomes the norm, I will not shut up.

Strong men are never intimidated by strong women. On the contrary, they admire them, they respect them and they thrive beside them. And if you are in a relationship in which your strength is not valued, go find a partner who loves you precisely for it.

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Tzlil Berko is a seasoned professional in private security with experience in tactical gear and simulation technologies. Her thesis research focuses on terrorism in the Metaverse.

She is a fellow at the Investigative Project on Terrorism (IPT), where she publishes on counter-terrorism and emerging threats. Tzlil is also a creative writer, represented alongside her parents by The Blair Partnership Literary and Entertainment Agency, and is the co-creator of a television project inspired by the published books of her mother, Dr. Anat Berko, and their extraordinary family story.