By Coral Gables Gazette staff

UPDATED: The Coral Gables City Commission’s handling of whether and how to commemorate the Hamas attacks of October 7, 2023 revealed not just the difficulty of symbolic governance, but the city’s insistence on tying remembrance to the Israeli flag in some form. That insistence, despite overwhelming resident opposition, turned what could have been a moment of unity into a case study in how civic symbols can divide.

Insistence on action

Mayor Vince Lago was unequivocal: “If it was up to me, and it was only me voting on this issue, I would raise a flag.” Even after acknowledging he did not have the votes, he told colleagues, “But if I don’t have the votes to do that, I still think that we should do something.” For him, doing nothing was not an option.

The result was a compromise package — blue-and-white lighting of City Hall, a commemorative banner, and an interfaith vigil — but it grew out of the same instinct to “do something” tied to Israel, not simply to victims. That framing shaped the debate more than any consensus about how to remember October 7.

The optics of symbolism

Vice Mayor Rhonda Anderson urged a pivot away from the flag, proposing banners and lighting instead: “Trying to find something that fits the purpose of promoting peace and remembering victims of war… I tasked our commission aid with coming up with some banners.” Commissioner Ariel Fernandez backed her, while acknowledging the pain the flag debate had caused: “Like the mayor, I probably would be the first one out there supporting raising the flag, but I am not immune to the heartache that has caused for some members of our community.”

Commissioner Richard Lara warned more bluntly that a flag was “undoubtedly a political symbol versus something else that could be in memorial or in remembrance or a sign of hope.” Even as a “staunchest supporter of the state of Israel,” he said the duty of commissioners was to represent everyone. Commissioner Melissa Castro, for her part, insisted, “There should not be any other flag but the United States flag here in city hall.”

Taken together, their comments underscored a central contradiction: while the commission sought to soften the symbolism, it continued to tether remembrance to Israeli imagery, the very approach residents warned against.

Voices of opposition

Public comment laid bare that warning. Speaker after speaker told the commission the city had no place in foreign symbolism.

• “A vote for this is an endorsement of genocide,” said Jalal Shahada
• “Here we are again… despite dozens of emails, meetings, and calls for residents to reconsider, here we are again,” said Katherine Shahada
• Martha Schoolman, a member of the Jewish community, called the proposal “an act of deeply offensive warmongering out of touch with the views of many in this community.”
• Tom Carney reminded commissioners, “It’s my understanding that a foreign flag has never been raised at city hall.”
• Edward Dabdu, a Palestinian Catholic, drew the line clearly: “Raising a flag is inherently political. A vigil is not political.”
• Joseph Abel added that the matter “is generally not within the purview of a municipality. It’s something that the federal government handles, foreign affairs.”
• And Mahmud Shahada asked flatly: “For a hundred years… no foreign flag has been raised. Why today?”

Their testimony made clear that the objection was not to remembering victims, but to the city inserting itself into geopolitical conflict.

Why, and why now?

That question — “Why today?” — lingers over the entire debate. Despite dozens of emails, packed chambers, and sharp warnings from residents, the commission pressed forward with Israeli-linked symbolism. Lago insisted his intent was not to marginalize, stressing “This is not about marginalizing any community”, but the effect was the opposite: residents felt their city was taking sides in a global war.

The mayor justified his push by citing calls from members of the Jewish and Catholic communities who supported the gesture. Yet even those words carried an implicit admission: the city was weighing groups against one another, forcing residents to declare loyalties where none had been asked of them before.

The politics of restraint, or of risk?

In the end, the commission voted unanimously for the compromise package. Lago described it as a relief: “I think we should do the banner. We should have the interfaith event. And I’m willing to light the city hall… It’s a beautiful gesture.” Fernandez added, “We represent one Coral Gables.”

But the deeper meaning lies in what residents saw: a city government opening the door to protest, mistrust, and division over an international conflict far outside its remit. The commission framed the compromise as unity, yet it grew from an insistence that Coral Gables must display the Israeli flag in some form — even when that was precisely what residents opposed.

Whether the issue now fades or sparks further protest, it leaves behind a sobering question for city leadership: if the true purpose of local government is to protect and care for its community, why invite a conflict the community itself asked you to avoid?