By Coral Gables Gazette staff

When Coral Gables officials reversed plans to commemorate the victims of the October 7, 2023 Hamas attacks in Israel, the decision marked more than the end of a month-long controversy. It represented a quiet but consequential calculation—a recognition that in a polarized civic landscape, symbolic gestures can fracture rather than unify, and that even well-intended statements may overstep the role of a local government.

Mayor Vince Lago, who first proposed raising the Israeli flag above City Hall in memory of the roughly 1,200 Israeli lives lost on Oct. 7, likely believed the gesture would be received as an expression of shared grief. Instead, it triggered one of the most emotionally charged public debates in recent memory. Dozens of residents spoke at commission meetings, sent emails, and appealed directly to commissioners, warning that the move could be interpreted as taking sides in an active and deadly conflict between Israel and Palestinians in Gaza.

The commission quickly sought to adjust course. On September 25, it approved a compromise: instead of a flag, the city would light City Hall in blue and white. But that too met resistance. Just days before the planned lighting, officials suspended the effort indefinitely. The city’s communications director confirmed only that “an interfaith ceremony is being planned,” with no date or details finalized.

A risk-reward calculation

While few commissioners have publicly elaborated on the reversal, the silence itself speaks volumes. The mayor, Vice Mayor Rhonda Anderson, and Commissioner Ariel Fernandez—each of whom initially supported the flag proposal—declined to comment to the Gazette. Only Commissioner Melissa Castro offered a detailed rationale.

“I spoke with City Manager Peter Iglesias on Monday morning,” she said, referring to the day before the planned lighting. “He said there was no consensus within the local faith community on how to appropriately commemorate the occasion—or whether now was the right time.”

Castro added that even within the city’s Jewish community, views diverged. “The Orthodox community expressed that they prefer to wait until the war is over before participating in any type of event,” she said. Temple Judea’s Reform congregation, by contrast, “indicated they were open to October 27,” but cautioned that “hosting anything right now could unintentionally invite protests or create division during a very emotional time.”

What this suggests is restraint. The city conducted an informal risk-reward assessment—and determined that the cost of proceeding outweighed the symbolic value of the gesture. While officials cited community sensitivity, the real takeaway may be institutional: Coral Gables does not have a State Department for a reason.

The danger of overreach

Cities are often the stage for cultural diplomacy—Sister Cities programs, peace parks, international student exchanges. Coral Gables has long embraced this role with pride. But moral clarity on the global stage is a high bar for any government to meet, and municipal governments, in particular, may lack both the mandate and the capacity to sustain it.

What began as a gesture of solidarity became, for many residents, a flashpoint for exclusion. Critics warned the proposal would alienate Muslim, Arab, and Palestinian residents and risk framing the city as a partisan actor in a foreign war. Others argued that any gesture that honored Israeli victims without acknowledging the tens of thousands of Palestinians killed in Gaza since Oct. 7 would inevitably be seen as one-sided.

“I don’t feel good saying, ‘I told you so,’” resident Katherine Shehadeh said after the city’s reversal. “It was unnecessary for the city to wade into something it should have known would be divisive. This entire situation was entirely avoidable and caused a lot of pain in my corner of the community.”

Still, Shehadeh found grace in the outcome. “A group of us—Muslims, Jews, Christians, non-religious—came together in a way that truly exemplifies interfaith work and what makes Coral Gables special.”

A missed opportunity—or a measured step back?

Castro herself attempted to pivot toward a broader symbol of unity, proposing that the blue-and-white City Hall lighting be modified to include red—creating a visual nod to the American flag. That effort was rejected.

“It was apparently Israel or nothing,” Shehadeh said.

Castro has pledged to reopen the conversation at the next commission meeting, emphasizing that “the focus should be on fostering understanding and avoiding further polarization.”

“At the end of the day,” she said, “Coral Gables can lead by example—standing firmly for peace, mutual respect, and the values that unite us as Americans.”

But it remains unclear whether the commission will reengage the issue in any substantive way. As of now, no interfaith event has been publicly scheduled. The most unifying act may have been, paradoxically, doing nothing.

The mayor’s interview and the perils of political crossfire

Although he did not respond to media inquiries, Mayor Lago gave a lengthy interview on Spanish-language W Radio last week, defending his original proposal and taking aim at fellow commissioners.

“My point was simple,” he said. “We are not talking about Palestine and Gaza, we are talking about 1,200 Jewish people who lost their lives to Hamas… Even something beautiful they have to destroy to make a statement.”

Lago accused Commissioners Castro and Fernandez—both of whom supported the compromise lighting plan—of politicizing the issue. He referenced their vote to raise commissioner salaries and invoked next year’s special election, although the interview focused ostensibly on Oct. 7.

Asked whether he understood the backlash, the mayor acknowledged the emotional toll.

“Obviously we have Muslim [residents] who are against it because it brings up many emotions from decades-long conflict,” he said.

When pressed further about the absence of any acknowledgment of Palestinian suffering, Lago responded: “My heart hurts for everyone who lost their lives, including Palestinians, but a lot of the 65,000 were soldiers with Hamas… This chapter was not started by Israel… Hamas went in to kill.”

If Lago’s initial proposal was about unity, his radio remarks—framed as moral clarification—risked reigniting the divisions the commission sought to defuse.

A return to the local

In the end, Coral Gables confronted not just a community debate, but a question of municipal identity: What should a city say about the world beyond it? How far should it reach in the name of moral solidarity? And what happens when that reach begins to divide the community itself?

There may never be a resolution that satisfies everyone. But by choosing pause over proclamation, the commission may have done more than avoid conflict. It may have drawn a subtle boundary around the role of local government in global affairs.

As Shehadeh put it, “What happens here in Coral Gables matters, too. And how we respond to each other—especially in difficult times—says more about us than any light display or flag ever could.”