Some leaders speak two languages, not out of diplomatic courtesy, but for entirely different reasons. Mahmoud Abbas, also known as Abu Mazen, is a prime example. In English, from the podium of the UN, he presents himself as a moderate leader who believes in peace and justice. In Arabic, to his own people, he preaches the “return” to Haifa, Lod, and Tel Aviv – not a two-state solution, but the erasure of one.
And on his lapel, in every major speech, sits a small yet telling symbol: a key. It is, as he says, “the key to Safed,” his birthplace. For him, and for the millions of Palestinians educated in his image, that key is not a nostalgic memento but a political declaration: the homes in Israel are theirs, and they will return to them. This is not an ideology of peace, but of reversal.
Abbas is not only the head of the Palestinian Authority; he is also the author of a notorious doctoral dissertation written in Moscow in the 1980s, which sought to downplay the number of Holocaust victims and suggested ties between Zionists and Nazis. Even if he has since tried to soften his words, he has never truly retracted them.
A leader who denies the greatest hate crime in Jewish history, yet continues to speak of “historical justice,” exposes a worldview where distorting history is not an accident – it’s a political tool.
When Abbas speaks of “peace,” it is worth remembering who he is: a man who denies the Holocaust, rewards terrorists, teaches children to hate, and wears the key to a city deep inside Israel.
In the Palestinian education system, a consistent doctrine prevails: Israel is not a sovereign state but an occupier, and Jews are not neighbors but invaders.
Textbooks depict a map of “Palestine from the river to the sea,” with no mention of Israel. In classrooms, children sing songs about returning to Jaffa, Safed, and Ramle, while teachers explain that peace will not come “until our legitimate demands are fulfilled.” Those “legitimate demands,” as the children understand, are not the 1967 borders, but the 1948 ones.
This is no educational oversight; it’s an intentional worldview cultivating a generation that sees Israel as a temporary entity. When a child grows up believing that Jaffa is Palestinian and Tel Aviv “must be liberated,” how can he ever see his Jewish neighbor as a partner for peace?
What became a rallying cry – “from the river to the sea” – began as a plan of action. The phrase has become the central slogan of a national struggle seeking not liberation, but elimination. Many in the West naively interpret it as a call for freedom, but its real meaning is clear: Palestine will be free only when Israel ceases to exist.
The issue is not just in the words, but in their impact. When the Palestinian Authority indirectly adopts this slogan through its educational system and state messaging, the message to young people is unmistakable: peace is not a goal; it’s an obstacle.
In recent years, the number of terror attacks carried out by young Palestinians has risen sharply. Many of these attackers are not members of organized terror groups but graduates of an educational system where “return” and “martyrdom” are glorified ideals. They come not just from Islamic Jihad, but from the first civics lesson.
Thus, a deadly cycle is formed: education for “return,” propaganda of hatred, and an economic mechanism that rewards violence – resistance born and justified within its own community.
Israel can fight terrorism militarily, but as long as Ramallah and Nablus teach that a child who kills a Jew is a hero, no agreement will ever hold.
The world may see the key on Abbas’s lapel as a symbol of “hope.” But for Israelis, it represents something else entirely: a key that does not open a future, but locks the door to true coexistence.
A leader who genuinely wants peace does not cling to a key from the past. He builds a bridge to the future.
The gap between Abbas’s English and Arabic is the heart of the problem. In English, he speaks of borders and “coexistence.” In Arabic, he promises the return to Jaffa and Safed. Thus was born one of the most sophisticated deceptions of our time: bilingual diplomacy.
Abbas likes to present himself as a veteran statesman, a moderate man of experience. But behind the tie and blazer lies an old ideology: return instead of peace, imagined “justice” instead of mutual recognition.
Israel needs no more declarations of a “peace process” from a man who denies the Holocaust and preaches revenge.
It’s time to say it clearly: As long as that key hangs from the lapel of a Palestinian leader, the door to peace will remain shut.
The author is CEO of Radios 100FM, an honorary consul and deputy dean of the Consular Diplomatic Corps, president of the Israel Radio Communications Association, and a former correspondent for IDF Radio and NBC Television.