Five Rejections

You know the cliché: "If only Israel handed Palestinians their own state, peace would magically bloom like tulips after a long, grey British winter." Having lived long enough to appreciate life’s bitter ironies, I know reality rarely respects such rosy scenarios—especially when history insists on giving you a sharp slap across the face.

Let’s rewind to 1937, when the British—ever optimistic in their talent for mismanaging the world—rolled out the Peel Commission. They generously carved up the land, handing the Arabs a tidy 80% and tossing the Jews barely enough turf for a decent falafel stand. Jewish leaders, pragmatic to a fault (or perhaps just weary of endless pogroms), grudgingly agreed. The Arab response? A resounding "No thanks," followed swiftly by renewed violence. Delightful.

Fast forward a bit, and in 1947 the United Nations, clearly believing third time's the charm, proposed another partition plan. Predictable as rain at Wimbledon, Jewish acceptance met Arab refusal. War ensued—again. It’s a cycle so tediously repetitive it could be a BBC sitcom.

And yet, the chorus of activists and diplomats never tires of their familiar tune: "Israel must make concessions!" Like bad Eurovision contestants, they enthusiastically belt out the same off-key notes, completely oblivious to reality.

In 2000, Ehud Barak, playing Santa Claus at Camp David, offered Palestinians nearly all they claimed to want—including East Jerusalem, gift-wrapped in shiny diplomatic paper. Yasser Arafat, ever the statesman, promptly launched the Second Intifada instead—a carnival of carnage and chaos. Truly, diplomacy worthy of a BAFTA.

And let's not overlook 2008, when Ehud Olmert presented yet another detailed peace plan, extensive enough to settle any rational disagreement. Palestinian leaders dismissed it swiftly and thoroughly, reaffirming that the conflict has never genuinely been about borders or settlements, but fundamentally about accepting Israel's existence.

It’s become glaringly obvious—peace requires abandoning the comfortable narrative of perpetual victimhood that Palestinian leadership holds onto as fiercely as politicians cling to their talking points. True coexistence demands tough compromises, brutal honesty, and unpalatable realities—things conveniently avoided in favour of endless grievance.

Next time someone lectures about Israel holding the keys to peace, kindly remind them it takes two to tango—and that’s tricky when your dance partner keeps storming off to plot the next intifada.