They met a grim end

“It is better to be feared than loved if you cannot be both.” Machiavelli’s maxim, written in “The Prince” in 1513, reverberates like thunder in politics and war. Niccolò Machiavelli, a shrewd observer of human nature and the intricate maneuvers of power, penned his work to offer leaders a survival guide in a brutal world where morality often seems an illusion and strength the true currency. Machiavelli, after being exiled from Florence and losing his position in the chancery, wrote “The Prince” as a plea to regain favor with the Medici, the powerful rulers of Florence. Ironically, the work intended to restore his position became an enduring manual on realpolitik.

It always disturbed me that everyone called Ismail Haniyeh the political leader of Hamas. This man was involved, directly or indirectly, in various crimes over the years. Naming a few is merely a matter of justice. The suicide bombings in the 1990s, when Hamas conducted a series of explosions in Israel, especially during the Second Intifada (2000-2005). Some of these attacks included the devastating bus 405 attack in Jerusalem in 1996 and the destruction of the Sbarro restaurant in Jerusalem in 2001.

We remember the Dolphinarium bombing in 2001, a night when Tel Aviv lost 21 teenagers to the explosive rage of a suicide bomber, injuring over 120 people. Or the horror of the Moment Café attack in March 2002, when a suicide bomber took 11 lives and left 54 others in shreds. And how can we forget the massacre at the Park Hotel in Netanya during the Passover Seder in 2002? Thirty people were killed, and 140 injured, a tragedy that catalyzed Israel’s Operation Defensive Shield. Mentioning these acts is like opening old wounds that never healed, memories of suffering that still resonate today.

Calling Haniyeh a political leader is as absurd as saying Al Capone was the political arm of the Mafia. Fuad Shukr, also known as Hajj Muhassin, was another face of the same coin minted with the blood of innocents. Shukr, considered the number two in Hezbollah, was responsible for the group’s military activities, including recent attacks against Israel. Both were architects of relentless violence, carving their paths in blood and death.

Israel has a history of targeted assassinations that, while they may reduce violence temporarily, do not resolve the core issue. Some of these assassinations include Ahmed Yassin (2004), the spiritual founder of Hamas, killed in an Israeli airstrike in Gaza. Abdel Aziz al-Rantissi (2004), another Hamas leader, also killed by an Israeli airstrike. Imad Mughniyeh (2008), Hezbollah’s military commander, killed in a car bomb attack in Damascus, attributed to Israel. Mahmoud al-Mabhouh (2010), a significant member of Hamas, assassinated in Dubai, in a suspected Mossad operation. Baha Abu al-Ata (2019), an Islamic Jihad commander, killed in an airstrike in Gaza.

These operations often manage to temporarily diminish violence, but it soon returns, as the root of the conflict remains untouched. I do not mourn the death of these monsters, but I do not believe it will end the violence. The policy of targeted assassinations may be an effective short-term measure, but without a comprehensive plan to address the underlying issues, it is merely an endless cycle of violence.

Benjamin Netanyahu and his far-right group in Israel seem more focused on maintaining a facade of strength than on seeking lasting solutions. The current government uses these deaths as political propaganda but fails to promote peace and stability. Machiavelli would understand the logic of being feared, but even he would know that fear alone does not build a lasting kingdom.

The future of Israel and its neighbors depends on an approach that goes beyond fear and hatred. It takes as much courage to seek peace as it does to wage war. Until then, we will continue to navigate a sea of blood and uncertainty, where the emotional nuances of daily life intertwine with the complexities of human relationships. Yitzhak Rabin, a man who truly sought peace, once said: “I believe that now there is an opportunity for peace, a great opportunity, that we must not waste. We must seize this opportunity to achieve a lasting solution.”

Rabin was also assassinated, killed by a Jewish extremist who, like many in the current government, preferred violence over negotiation, brute force over reconciliation. His assassin, Yigal Amir, shared the same radical mentality that today permeates Netanyahu’s government, prioritizing the elimination of opponents over dialogue. The same ideology that took Rabin’s life continues to obstruct any real progress towards peace. Nothing has changed in Israel. The same voices that cry for blood are those that prevent true peace from blossoming. Without the genuine will to resolve the deep-seated causes of the conflict, we remain prisoners of a vicious cycle, unable to find a path to a future of coexistence and hope.