Human history drips with the blood and memory of lions roaming unchecked — majestic, merciless and unchallenged. They roared across valleys, rivers and deserts, tearing through lives, scattering lambs into silence. The truth has always been cruel: lions eat lambs, never the other way around.
A friend reminded me of this while we debated President Trump's so-called "peace plan" for Israel and Palestine. "The lamb must accept its fate", he shrugged, "or run until it collapses". This is the logic of history as written by the powerful: borders carved by conquerors, lives dictated by the victors, and the weak forced to adapt.
But must this always be the story? Are lambs destined only to run, scatter and bleed? Or can they, one day, learn not just to survive, but to rewrite the tale? Trump's plan was unveiled like a gilded cage, gleaming bars dressed up as prosperity, but a cage nonetheless.
Palestinians were promised scraps of sovereignty, a homeland fragmented into isolated pieces, governed as if a colony under perpetual watch. The price? Their grief silenced, their dispossession erased, their history swallowed.
Palestine is not just land; it is an ancient olive tree, its roots twisted deep into time, nourished by prophets and poets, soaked in rain and blood alike. Bulldozers may threaten it, flames may scorch its branches, but still it stands. For centuries, conquerors have come and gone, yet the olive endures.
From its branches hang the stubborn hopes of a people told to vanish quietly. They have refused — not with roaring strength, but with the silent defiance of roots that refuse to let go.
Doves of peace have flown over this land before. Too often, they've been shot down by occupation, by rockets, by vengeance masquerading as security. Yet still, in Gaza's rubble, a child paints a bird on a broken wall. In Jerusalem's alleys, a grandmother whispers to her grandson the names of villages erased from maps.
In refugee camps, young boys with slingshots still believe that one day, the dove will rise again, if only given the sky. They are not asking for conquest, only return. Not domination, but dignity.
And here lies the tragedy: Israel, born from the ashes of persecution, has now become the persecutor. A people who once suffered exile, ghettos and genocide now not only enforce exile, walls and sieges on others, but are carrying out a genocide that the world is watching live. Rulers may be silent spectators — many are even collaborating — but the collective consciousness of people of the world has woken.
Today, Israel stands as one of the most reviled nations in the world. Is this truly the legacy Netanyahu wishes to bequeath? A country forever at war, despised globally, and condemned by history?
Wisdom would counsel otherwise. Israel could still choose to accept a fair and lasting peace — one recognised by the world and, most importantly, by Palestinians themselves.
For what is preferable: to expand illegally a few more miles, to usurp a little more land and in doing so condemn future generations of Israelis to endless war, or to secure a peace that endures, a peace that heals? The answer should be obvious, if only wisdom were louder than arrogance.
The US too, must ask itself what legacy it seeks. To forever bankroll occupation and war crimes, ignoring even the ruling of the International Court of Justice that has branded Israel’s acts as genocide? Or to finally read the writing on the wall — an international opinion turning, a domestic mood shifting, even within America itself? Standing on the wrong side of history is easy but changing course takes courage. But history rewards the latter, not the former.
And what of the Muslim ummah? What of its leaders? Were they truly so naive as to miss the duplicity baked into this so-called deal? Or did they simply accept the crumbs tossed their way? A handshake at the White House, a red-carpet reception, a fleeting photograph with an American president — were these worth the betrayal of Palestine? Too many basked in the temporary glow, blind to the long shadow it cast on their own honour.
History has always paired the scroll with the sword. Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) rejected the bribes of Meccan elites, choosing exile and hardship over compromise. He returned not with revenge, but with mercy and justice. Jesus Christ overturned the tables of profiteers, defying the empire not with armies but with sacrifice.
Across ages, the oppressed have answered with dignity, even when crushed. Mandela against apartheid. Gandhi against the British Empire. Jinnah's Muslims against colonial rule. Martin Luther King Jr against American racism. All stood where Palestinians stand today — on the side of justice, their only weapon persistence.
The lesson is clear: peace without justice is not peace at all. It is submission dressed up as compromise. It is silence bought at the price of dignity. Forced agreements will only sow the seeds of deeper hatred and longer wars. If Israel truly seeks peace, it must meet Palestinians as equals. If America truly seeks peace, it must abandon blind loyalty to injustice. And if Muslim leaders truly care for their people, they must stop trading Palestine for photo opportunities. Palestinians are not asking for thrones, only for trees. Not empires, but homes. Not crowns, but dignity.
Yes, lions devour lambs. But every empire, however mighty, eventually crumbles. Every unjust peace eventually collapses. And even the weakest voices echo across centuries until they are heard.
The story is not yet over. The ink has not dried. And perhaps, just perhaps, this time, the lamb has learned to write.
The writer is the managing editor of Geo News.