Like so many of you, I was gutted by the news of the Bibas family—the tiny boys, Ariel and Kfir, and their mother, Shiri. Rumors had swirled for months that they might not have survived, but as a mother, I clung to hope they’d turn up alive. Then came the horrific truth: they were strangled, their bodies stoned to mimic the aftermath of an airstrike, a grotesque lie to shift blame. It’s a sickening twist that deepens the tragedy. You’d think this could finally focus the world’s outrage on the jihadists wreaking havoc in the Middle East. But no—enter whataboutism, the rhetorical plague that muddies everything.
Whataboutism is that infuriating dodge where someone counters an accusation with a different one, sidestepping the issue entirely. “What about the thousands of Palestinian babies killed?” “What about Israel’s airstrike in Rafah?” Fair questions—they’re not wrong to point out the suffering. None of this happens in a vacuum. But here’s where the pro-jihadist crowd (often cloaked as pro-Palestinian) stumbles: they miss the logical thread—the but for, the proximate cause*. October 7, 2023, wasn’t a random flare-up. Hamas invaded Israel, slaughtered 1,200 civilians in cold blood, and ignited this war. No historical grievance, no “open-air prison” argument, no whataboutism can erase that starting line. Yet somehow, we’ve reached a point where justifying terrorism feels normal, especially in the West, where it’s framed as oppressed vs. oppressor. That moral confusion only breeds more sorrow, more violence. Imagine if the world had condemned Hamas’s October 7 attack with the unity it showed against the Nazis—how many fewer graves might we be counting today?
Then there’s the question of deaths versus killings. Every loss—Israeli or Palestinian—carries the same weight of pain, the same mourning. But the acts behind them aren’t equal. Under Article 51 of the UN Charter, Israel, like any nation, has an inherent right to self-defense when attacked. Hamas’s assault—murders, hostages, rockets—triggered that right, a principle no one seriously challenges. The catch? International law, like the Geneva Conventions, demands proportionality and distinction between combatants and civilians. Israel’s critics say its response crosses that line. But watch the footage: Hamas doesn’t wear uniforms outside their staged hostage releases. They blend into civilian crowds, stash weapons in homes, hold captives in residential buildings. That’s the brutal reality of urban warfare—a tragedy Hamas exploits.
Which brings me to the real troublemakers. Hamas, Hezbollah, the Houthis, ISIS—they’re cut from the same cloth. They burrow into communities across Gaza, Lebanon, Syria, Yemen, building networks of hate and oppression. Human rights? They don’t care. They thrive on chaos, hiding among the people they claim to champion, only to bring death down on them. That’s why they need to be fought, why the world should universally condemn them. Because they are the real enemy. Instead, we’re parsing staged hostage handovers—debating whether Omer Shem Tov kissed his captors’ foreheads out of gratitude or coercion. It’s sick. It’s wrong.
We desperately need clarity over confusion, logic over noise. The Bibas family’s fate should be a wake-up call, not another whataboutism ping-pong match. This isn’t just about picking sides—it’s about seeing the root of the suffering and calling it what it is.
*Elica Le Bon has a good video on this
