Victory with a stubborn child

One beautiful spring evening, some years ago, when my daughter was just 2 years old, she staged a dinner-table strike, one that has since become a family legend.

Dinner that particular evening was fried fish. Harmless. Golden. Crispy. Practically gourmet. She stared at it like she had been served a ladleful of gruel straight out of Oliver!.

My wife fed her that faithful first bite, and the wrath of a toddler scorned befell the house. We tried everything, from begging to singing upbeat songs, and eventually, the ultimate toddler bribe: “If you just eat it, we’ll go get ice cream after dinner.” Her happy place: that creamy frozen delight, topped with whipped cream, rainbow sprinkles, and even a cherry on top. This moment, while very likely isn’t what Dr. Spock would prescribe, is a go-to strategy of many parents of a 2-year-old.

But nothing. She shut down like a bank in the middle of a heist. Her lips sealed like Fort Knox, and her eyes fixed and dilated in an unflinching death stare perfected by defiant children. For 45 minutes, she sat there, the fried fish swimming around in a pool of saliva, neither chewed nor swallowed.

Her determination, so strong, she was willing to give up everything, ice cream treats, bedtime stories, her favorite snuggies, just to prove: You can’t make me.

I share this story not just to commiserate with fellow parents in Israel, who are now having to navigate the “nothing-to-do and nowhere-to-go, all while trying to work and maintain our sanity” dilemma, in light of the terror threats aimed at us. Oddly enough, I have PTSD flashbacks to that toddler stubbornness, albeit in a much graver context.

No, I’m not comparing my daughter to a terrorist. But I do see a troubling parallel between her fish protest and the obstinate behavior of the regimes in Gaza and Iran.

Like that 2-year-old with the fish in her cheek, Hamas and the Iranian leadership show no willingness to surrender—even when offered incentives, international legitimacy, or simply the opportunity to prevent further suffering for their people. Instead, they double down, dragging their citizens through hunger, devastation, and death to preserve the illusion of resistance.

It’s not about what’s right. It’s not even about winning. It’s about proving—over and over again—You can’t make us.

And just like with a defiant child, the world keeps trying to offer ice cream. Incentives. Humanitarian aid. Infrastructure. Respect. But when your opponent is committed to defiance at all costs, it doesn’t matter what’s on the table—it’ll be met with a firm, furious No.

Behavioral science—and basic parenting—offers a few insights for moments like this:

• Hold the boundary.
  
• Be calm, be consistent.
  
• Don’t reward tantrums.
  
• Wait them out. Growth takes time. Change takes longer.
  
• Don’t confuse surrender with peace. Sometimes, giving in leads to more chaos, not less.

But here’s the difference: kids eventually grow up. Regimes like these, don’t. Especially not when many in the international community reward bad behavior under the guise of moral relativism. Let’s not fool ourselves—these regimes aren’t seeking bedtime stories or ice cream sundaes. They’re seeking world domination. Furthermore, in systems that glorify martyrdom and incentivize perpetual victimhood, even the most idealistic peacemakers are never fully safe.

So what does victory look like?

Is it a signed agreement? A toppled regime? A generational shift in values?

Or maybe—it’s quieter. Maybe it’s the steadfastness of holding the line. Investing in our own strength. Educating our children—toddlers and teenagers alike—with true values and priorities. One that highlights the fact that true resilience doesn’t come from tantrums, and enforces that dignity doesn’t demand destruction.

Because sometimes, victory isn’t marked by a dramatic surrender. Sometimes, it’s just the quiet, deeply satisfying relief… of watching someone finally swallow the fish.