The Deal

“The deal. The best deal. There has never been a deal like this deal. Everyone says so.”

You can almost hear the trumpet blast before the words leave his mouth.

And look, let’s be fair.

Donald Trump has been a strong ally of Israel. Compared with some of the recent occupants of the White House, he has shown far greater support for Israel’s security, sovereignty and right to defend itself.

Credit where it’s due.

But let’s also be honest. Trump is brilliant.

Brilliant for comedy value. Brilliant for a joke. Brilliant at blowing his own incredibly loud, exaggerated, oversized trumpet.

And while he has undoubtedly been a friend to Israel, most of us don’t exactly listen to his latest ramblings and think, “Yes, there’s a measured and nuanced expert on Middle Eastern politics.”

Because being a friend of Israel and understanding the Middle East are two very different things.

And that is where the problem begins.

Because somewhere inside Trump’s mind there is always a deal to be made.

A negotiation. A bargain. A transaction. A room full of tough men sitting around a table, throwing numbers back and forth until everybody walks away happy.

That works in property. It works in business. Sometimes it even works in politics.

It does not work with people whose stated goal is your destruction.

Iran’s regime has spent decades telling the world exactly what it wants.

Not quietly. Not secretly. Not through coded language.

Openly. Repeatedly. Relentlessly.

The destruction of Israel. The end of the Jewish state. The eradication of Zionism.

The elimination of what they call the “Little Satan” before turning their attention to the “Great Satan.”

There is no ambiguity. No translation issue. No misunderstanding. No hidden nuance lost in diplomacy.

They have been saying the same thing for nearly half a century.

So when people speak about “finding common ground” or “making a deal,” many Israelis hear something very different.

They hear the world asking them to negotiate with people who openly promise to destroy them.

Americans have long celebrated the principle that you do not negotiate with terrorists.

They’ve built films around it. Written books about it. Sent soldiers across oceans to enforce it.

Thousands of Americans have died fighting organisations that used terror as a political tool.

The message was simple: You don’t reward hostage-takers. You don’t appease extremists. You don’t negotiate with those whose goal is your destruction.

Yet somehow, when it comes to Iran, many of those same principles suddenly become negotiable.

And Iran is not some ragtag militia hiding in caves.

It is one of the world’s largest state sponsors of terrorism.

It funds, arms and trains militant proxies across the Middle East.

It spreads instability across the region.

It exports extremism far beyond its own borders.

And perhaps most tragically of all, it holds its own people hostage.

Millions of Persians live under a regime that crushes dissent, suppresses freedom, imprisons opponents and brutalises those who dare to challenge its authority.

The victims of the Iranian regime are not only Israelis.

They are also Iranians.

The proud Persian people themselves.

A civilisation that gave humanity poetry, science, philosophy and culture long before the men currently ruling it ever existed.

And while diplomats talk, Iran’s rulers buy time.

Time to rebuild. Time to regroup. Time to replenish. Time to continue enriching uranium. Time to strengthen the very networks they claim they are restraining.

Every round of negotiations creates another opportunity to delay.

Another opportunity to stall. Another opportunity to survive.

Because survival is victory.

The regime doesn’t need to win tomorrow.

It simply needs to ensure it still exists next year. And the year after that. And the year after that.

Meanwhile, its tentacles continue to spread.

More money. More weapons. More influence. More propaganda. More antisemitism. More radicalisation. More chaos.

Not only in the Middle East, but on university campuses, in city streets, online forums and political movements throughout the Western world.

The regime understands something many Western leaders still struggle to grasp:

This is not merely a political conflict.

It is ideological. It is religious. It is cultural. It is generational.

You cannot negotiate someone out of beliefs they consider sacred.

You cannot offer enough concessions to persuade a true believer to abandon a mission they believe was handed to them by God.

And that is why so many Israelis watch these diplomatic cycles with a mixture of frustration and exhaustion.

Because we’ve seen this movie before.

The promises. The signatures. The declarations. The handshakes. The photographs.

The headlines announcing peace, stability or breakthrough agreements.

And then, years later, the threats return.

The missiles return. The terror returns. The hatred returns. The ambitions never changed.

Only the timetable did.

And here’s the part so many people still don’t understand.

We don’t want war. We’re tired of war. More tired of war than most people can possibly imagine.

We are tired of burying our sons and daughters.

Tired of watching eighteen-year-olds swap classrooms for uniforms.

Tired of parents lying awake at night waiting for a message, a phone call, or the sound of a front door opening.

We are tired of funerals. Tired of sirens. Tired of rockets.

Tired of explaining why our children need bomb shelters while much of the world debates whether the people trying to kill them really mean it.

We hate war.

If we wanted war, we would not have spent decades building universities, hospitals, businesses, technology companies, farms, vineyards, beaches, cafés and homes.

We would not have transformed a tiny strip of land into one of the most successful countries on earth.

Israelis don’t dream about war.

They dream about normal. About family dinners. About children playing football on a sunny afternoon. About arguing over politics instead of survival. About a future where their kids don’t have to carry rifles.

And contrary to what many imagine, we don’t hate the Iranian people.

Far from it.

The friendship between Jews and Persians stretches back over 2,500 years.

Long before the Ayatollahs. Long before the Islamic Revolution. Long before the current regime turned a great nation into a prison.

Many Israelis would happily welcome the day when Israel and a free Iran stand side by side again as friends, partners and neighbours.

That is the future we want.

Peace. Trade. Friendship. Prosperity. For both people.

The problem is that peace requires two sides willing to embrace it.

And that is why so many Israelis become frustrated when Western leaders talk about “just making a deal.”

Because this isn’t a Manhattan property negotiation.

This isn’t a licensing agreement. This isn’t a business merger. This isn’t the latest and greatest real-estate deal.

You cannot negotiate peace with people who still view your existence as the problem.

And perhaps I’m wrong.

Perhaps what looks like weakness is actually strategy.

Perhaps what sounds like appeasement is actually a trap.

Perhaps Trump sees something I don’t.

Perhaps this entire negotiation is nothing more than an opportunity to say to the world:

“Look. We tried.”

“We offered diplomacy.”

“We offered compromise.”

“We offered a deal.”

And perhaps the full expectation is that the IRGC will do what the IRGC has always done.

Lie. Delay. Obstruct. Violate. Demand more.

Perhaps the calculation is that when they inevitably break their word, nobody can claim they weren’t given every opportunity.

At that point, America, Israel and perhaps even some of Iran’s Arab neighbours would be able to say:

“We gave them a chance.”

“The world watched.”

“They chose this path.”

And if that’s the strategy, then it may prove to be a stroke of genius.

The truth is, I genuinely can’t tell.

I don’t know whether I’m watching a masterclass in geopolitical misdirection or the final act of a man who still believes every problem on earth can be solved by getting everyone into a room and signing a piece of paper.

History will decide.

But what I do know is this:

The Iranian regime has spent decades telling us exactly who they are.

And eventually, every negotiation reaches the same point.

You either believe them.

Or you don’t.

What truly frightens Iran’s rulers is not America.

It is not Israel. It is not sanctions. It is not air strikes.

What frightens them most is their own people.

The possibility that one day ordinary Iranians might reclaim their country from those who have held it hostage for decades.

The possibility that Persia might once again belong to Persians.

That is the threat they fear. That is why they imprison. That is why they torture. That is why they silence. That is why they kill.

And yet somehow the burden of restraint always seems to fall upon Israel.

The one nation in the Middle East whose neighbours have repeatedly attempted to destroy it.

The one nation that has lived under existential threats since the day it was reborn.

The one nation expected to absorb attacks, ignore threats and trust promises made by people who openly celebrate the prospect of its destruction.

So here’s a thought.

Before lecturing Israel about patience, restraint or compromise, perhaps spend a little time listening to the people who actually live this reality.

The people who hear these threats in the original language.

The people who have buried the victims.

The people who have spent generations learning the difference between rhetoric and intent.

Because when Israelis hear the Iranian regime speak, they don’t hear negotiating positions.

They hear exactly what is being said.

And history has taught us that when someone spends fifty years telling you they want to destroy you, it might be wise to believe them.

When that changes, we will be the first to put down our weapons.

We will be the first to extend a hand. We will be the first to welcome peace.

Because despite everything, that has always been the dream.

But until then, we will do what Jews have always done when faced with those who openly promise our destruction.

We will survive. 🇮🇱✡️