Peace Through Hatred and Other Equations That Don’t Add Up

When 2 + 2 = Zionist Oppression, and Beheading Civilians Is ‘Resistance’—The Curious Calculus of Campus Morality

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I was taught mathematics back when it was still mathematics—before it became a sacrificial altar to intersectionality, and before the number three came out as gender-fluid. I was taught that 2 + 2 = 4. Not five. Not nine. And certainly not twelve, even if you identify as twelve and demand institutional affirmation of your numerical self-expression.

My father was a mathematician. I understood very little of what he taught, and his research was forever a mystery.

Yet I did once make the provincial math team—essentially the social equivalent of a leper colony with calculators. I finished 50th in the province in the MAMT contest. This did not bring about celebrity status.

Later, I went into my university calculus exam with an A and walked out with a C-. Combine this with undergrad alcoholism and the usual neural attrition, and the result is that my math is now roughly on par with most journalism graduates.

Still, even I can grasp that 2 + 2 = 4. And if stating that eternal, universal fact triggers another Human Rights complaint against me, so be it. The first one was ludicrous enough. Apparently, these days, you don’t need to mention race, religion, or ethnicity to be called a racist or a _______¹phobe—just oppose Hamas and you’re declared morally unfit to be within a hundred yards of university students. Ask my boss.

Are you looking for logic, reason, or that ancient artifact, evidence? Do you still believe truth exists independent of hashtags and HR codes? Then beware: you may soon find yourself charged with “ethnic discrimination,” a phrase that has all the semantic clarity of a mushroom hallucination. I’m sure there’s a more fashionable term now—apologies if I’ve failed to keep up with the evolving glossary of hysteria.

Why begin with such an odd preamble? Because 2 + 2 = 4 is the very concept that postmodernism and its ideological bastard children want to destroy. And because just as it is mathematically impossible for 2 + 2 to equal 5, it is politically and culturally impossible for peace to exist between Israel and the Palestinians under the current conditions. That’s not racism; it’s arithmetic.

Yes, there are right-wing Israeli lunatics who dream of annexation and Messianic fire. But they are outliers. Among the Palestinians, however, maximalist irredentism isn’t fringe—it’s mainstream. The grievance is not 1967. It is 1948. It is existence itself.

The Palestinian cultural narrative is not built on hope or cooperation but on bitterness, jealousy, and hatred—the triumvirate of cultural rot. This isn’t speculative psychology. It’s historical fact.

The Qur’an tells us that Muhammad initially sought peace with the Jews. But in early Islamic parlance, “peace” meant submission—to his prophethood, to his god, to the new order he was crafting from the sands of Arabia. When the Jews rejected that peace, he turned on them. Tribes were expelled, enslaved, and in the case of Banu Qurayza, beheaded en masse.

And so it is fitting—poetically or historically, depending on your trust in Islamic sources—that Muhammad’s final act on earth was to ingest poison from a Jewish woman whose family and tribe he had slaughtered. She had served him lamb, laced with a fatal dose. It was her final form of defiance. Whether you believe the tale or not (Islamic tradition says he lingered for years in pain), it serves as a symbolic bookend to his life: a man who demanded submission, and when denied it, reaped bitterness and vengeance in return.

If the story is true, then Islam’s prophet was felled not by the sword of a rival, but by the quiet hand of a woman who had lost everything. If the story is false, then Islam’s founding mythos remains embroidered—as so much else in its history—with violence, grievance, and the iron logic of domination. Either way, the parable stands.

The hatred lives on. And it is aimed not just at Israelis, but at Jews. Jews—those who have survived inquisitions, expulsions, pogroms, and genocide to become, culturally and intellectually, the most successful minority on earth. As a Gentile, I say without irony: if culture had an Olympic podium, the Jews would be handing out the medals.

How many Nobel Prizes have Jews won? About a quarter. Despite being less than 0.2% of the world population, and despite being hunted like vermin for most of modern history. That’s not privilege. That’s excellence.

Palestinian culture, by contrast, has been locked in a permanent victim loop, seduced by a toxic ideology that says everything is Israel’s fault. It is the external loci of control, the scapegoat that must accompany them everywhere.

The land, the fences, the checkpoints, the water, the sun, the moon. Always the Jew.

This is not a conflict about land. It is a war of annihilation masked as resistance. The goal has never been coexistence—it is the obliteration of the Jewish state, and with it, the Jew. The PLO tried its tricks in Jordan—assassinations, hijackings, street violence—until even the relatively patient King Hussein had enough. He turned the Jordanian army on them in Black September and drove them out. They fled to Lebanon, promptly destabilized it, and ignited a civil war that still simmers like a cursed ember.

In 1991, Kuwait expelled nearly 300,000 Palestinians—no Israeli tanks, no checkpoints, no occupation required. And yet, strangely, the world didn’t blink. Apparently, when Arabs displace Palestinians en masse, the Twitter /X outrage meter flatlines.

Now consider Yarmouk, the Palestinian refugee camp near Damascus—once home to 160,000 souls. Under Assad, it became a slaughterhouse. Starvation, shelling, and siege reduced it to a graveyard. Children scavenged for grass. Bodies rotted in the streets. Thousands died—not at the hands of Israel, but under the boot of an Arab dictator. And what did the global Palestinian solidarity movement say? Precisely nothing. No marches in London, no shrieking UN resolutions, no campus encampments. Silence—because the murderers were not Jews.

So let us dispense with the myth. This is not about borders. If it were, Gaza would be a Singapore by now. It’s about hatred, about grievance weaponized into generational ideology. And the great obscenity is not just the lie—it’s the selective rage that sustains it.

In Denmark, 321 Palestinians were accepted as refugees in 1992. By 2019, 64% had a criminal record. This isn’t to say Palestinians are inherently criminal—of course not. It is to say that a grievance-fed, hate-drenched culture exports dysfunction. If Denmark couldn’t integrate them, what hope does Tel Aviv have?

Meanwhile, Israel withdrew from Gaza in 2005. Every Jew, every settler, every soldier. In return, Hamas got elected, murdered rivals, destroyed greenhouses, and turned Gaza into a launchpad for jihad. Billions in aid were spent not on schools or hospitals, but on concrete tunnels and imported missiles. The cruelty is not accidental. It is policy.

You want proportionality? When Japan killed 2,403 Americans at Pearl Harbor, the civilian death ratio in retaliation was 264:1. In Gaza, it’s closer to 1.5:1. That is not a war crime. That is military restraint bordering on insanity.

Yet the world still asks, “Why don’t the Jews just stop defending themselves?” As if Israeli self-preservation is the real provocation. As if the proper Jewish response to massacre is to write poetry and hold a vigil.

What of the so-called “two-state solution”? It’s a fantasy. Poll after poll shows Palestinians overwhelmingly support Hamas and the October 7th atrocities. The only acceptable solution to them is the erasure of Israel. They chant “From the river to the sea,” which is not a peace slogan—it’s a war cry for ethnic cleansing.

But we’re told, “It’s the education system.” True. Palestinian children are taught to hate Jews from kindergarten. Their textbooks are blood-soaked manifestos. But even if we grant that their indoctrination is not their fault, we must still reckon with the consequences. A generation raised on poison does not build peace. It builds tunnels, buys rockets, and names playgrounds after suicide bombers.

And yet, when Palestinians suffer, the blame never falls on Hamas or the Arab autocrats who fund them. It falls, always and predictably, on Israel. And on the Jews, because it always does. Antisemitism is the world’s oldest hate, and the only one fashionable at faculty wine receptions.

So let me say it again: 2 + 2 = 4.

You cannot make peace with a people who do not want peace. You cannot give land to those who see it not as a future, but as a staging ground for murder. You cannot dialogue with those who send teenagers with knives and women with bombs into synagogues and supermarkets.

Yes, individual Palestinians suffer. Yes, many are victims. But the primary victimizer is not Israel. It is a culture that equates death with dignity and martyrdom with manhood. That culture must change before any lasting peace can be forged.

But change is not on the menu. Not when the West incentivizes perpetual grievance with money, moral relativism, and cowardly declarations from Western governments too gutless to say what needs saying.

The Jews are not the problem.

And 2 + 2 is still 4.

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