I enter negotiations with Chairman Arafat, the leader of the

Hear the solemn voice of Yitzhak Rabin, warrior turned peacemaker, who declared: “I enter negotiations with Chairman Arafat, the leader of the PLO, the representative of the Palestinian people, with the purpose to have coexistence between our two entities, Israel as a Jewish state and Palestinian state, entity, next to us, living in peace.” These words were spoken not lightly, but in the crucible of history, upon a battlefield of generations, where blood had soaked the earth and cries of vengeance had long echoed in the valleys of the Holy Land. Rabin, who had once borne the sword for Israel, now dared to extend his hand to an old enemy, envisioning not eternal war, but the fragile miracle of coexistence.

For what is negotiation but the art of courage greater than battle? To fight is simple; to kill is swift. But to sit across the table from one who has been called foe, to look into the eyes of one long demonized, and to speak of a shared future—that is the labor of giants. Rabin’s words reveal this bravery: that after decades of enmity, the true path forward was not conquest, but recognition, not denial, but coexistence. To utter these words was to stand against both fear and hatred, and to place hope upon the altar of possibility.

The heart of the quote lies in the dream of coexistence. Rabin did not speak of absorption, nor domination, but of two peoples—Israel and Palestine—living side by side, each with dignity, each with identity, each with sovereignty. This vision was as radical as it was ancient, for even the prophets of old spoke of swords beaten into ploughshares, and of neighbors dwelling without fear. Yet history teaches us that such visions are not achieved by dream alone—they must be wrestled into being through compromise, humility, and unyielding persistence.

Consider the story of the Peace of Westphalia in 1648, which ended the Thirty Years’ War in Europe. After decades of destruction, Catholic and Protestant powers, long sworn enemies, finally sat at the table. They recognized each other’s sovereignty and agreed to coexist, not as conqueror and conquered, but as equals. This marked the birth of the modern state system, proving that even the bitterest wars can give way to peace when leaders dare to negotiate. Rabin’s vision stands in this same lineage—a hope that ancient rivals, bound by land and blood, might finally learn to dwell side by side.

Yet Rabin knew the cost of such words. He knew his call for peace would be met with suspicion from both sides—many Palestinians doubting Israel’s sincerity, many Israelis condemning him as a betrayer. And indeed, it was his pursuit of peace that led to his martyrdom, when he fell not to a foreign enemy, but to the hand of one of his own, unwilling to accept compromise. His death reveals the tragic truth: that the path of peace is not only the hardest to walk, but also the most dangerous.

O seekers of wisdom, learn from this: the true test of leadership is not in waging war, but in seeking peace. Anyone can destroy, but few can build. Rabin teaches us that to recognize the humanity of one’s enemy is the first step toward healing. To admit that another people, long despised, has the right to dignity and nationhood is an act not of weakness but of profound strength. Such recognition is the seed of coexistence, from which a new future may grow.

Therefore, take this lesson into your lives. When you face conflict—whether in your family, your community, or your nation—remember Rabin’s words. Do not cling to endless strife; do not imagine victory lies in the annihilation of the other. Instead, seek the harder path: negotiation, coexistence, and peace. Recognize the dignity of those you oppose, and build a tomorrow where both may live side by side. For though it is harder to make peace than to wage war, it is peace alone that gives life.

Thus, the voice of Yitzhak Rabin still calls across time: two peoples, two entities, side by side, living in peace. His dream was unfinished, but his words endure as a beacon. Let them be a guide, a challenge, and a hope for all generations—that we may rise above enmity, and choose coexistence over endless war.