A State Without Safety Is No Peace
I have long been an advocate for dignity, security, and freedom for Palestinians. I believe deeply in a fair solution — a future where Arabs and Jews can live side by side, sharing the land we both profess to love.
I am not afraid of a Palestinian state.
I have supported the idea for years. But I am afraid of how and when such recognition comes.
And I am heartsick that the United Kingdom, Canada, and Australia chose this week to take that step.
Because here is the truth: dozens of Israelis are still in captivity in Gaza. Some are alive, some are almost certainly not. They were dragged from their homes, from music festivals, from their cars and bedrooms. Many were held for months underground in tunnels, denied daylight, starved and brutalized. A handful were released, and their testimonies are unbearable. For the rest, the waiting is endless, the silence deafening. Their families live suspended between hope and mourning.
And Hamas still fires rockets, including two aimed at Ashdod on the very day of these announcements.
Missiles from Yemen still streak toward Jerusalem. Iran still works tirelessly to find new ways to destroy the Jewish state. None of this is theoretical for me. I live here. I have sheltered with my children as the sirens wailed.
None of this erases the horror unfolding in Gaza. I have seen the images of broken children and shattered families, and I weep for them. My heart cannot remain unmoved. At the same time, I rage at my own government — led by a Prime Minister I no longer trust — for its failures, its cynicism, and its refusal to imagine a future beyond war.
I can hold both truths: Palestinians are suffering catastrophically, and Jews in Israel and around the world are grieving, terrified, and under threat. But what troubles me most is that recognition of Palestinian statehood, without any precondition of releasing the hostages, sends a catastrophic message.
It tells the world that terror works. That abducting children, grandmothers, soldiers, and festival-goers can be overlooked — or even rewarded — in the name of political expediency. That bloodlust pays.
We have been here before. Oslo began with hope but unraveled under the weight of mistrust and violence. The Second Intifada left scars that have not healed. Every peace initiative that ignored the basic human need for safety — for Palestinians and Israelis alike — has collapsed. To recognize a Palestinian state now, while hostages still languish in Gaza, is to repeat that mistake on a grander scale.
I want peace. I dream of a train running from Cairo through Jerusalem all the way to Damascus. I imagine Palestinians traveling freely to the beaches of Tel Aviv, and Jews living securely in the biblical heart of our homeland. I believe that day can come. But not like this.
Recognition without release is not justice. It is an abomination.
