Between Power and Value: Is Netanyahu Writing His Narrative in the Footsteps of Genghis Khan?

Not all statements made in politics are slips of the tongue; some are carefully uttered to reveal more than they conceal. Netanyahu's words, quoting the historian Durant, are understood as equating Jesus Christ (peace be upon him) with Genghis Khan. These words reveal a vision deeper than mere provocation, but rather a redefinition of human and historical value according to a single criterion: whoever leaves an impact, regardless of its nature. Thus, values no longer center judgment, but results. Christ, in religious and historical consciousness, represents a moral model based on mercy and tolerance. His influence was not a result of authority or power, but rather an idea that settled in human conscience over centuries. Genghis Khan, on the other hand, represents a model of power and killing that redrew the world's maps through blood. The problem is not in saying that both left an impact, but in equating two different impacts and equating an idea that spreads through conviction with another that is imposed by force, which makes the comparison an insult, even if implicit. Invoking such a statement in a political discourse transforms it into a tool of justification, and herein lies the danger, transcending the idea to its uses. The question remains: why invoke this idea now? The answer is inseparable from a political and military reality where Netanyahu leads wars in the region under the pretext of defending Western civilization and values, from Gaza to Lebanon and Syria, extending to broader arenas including Yemen and Iran, all with declared political, military, and financial support from America and Western countries, all of which have a Christian background. Here lies the paradox that cannot be ignored: Netanyahu's strength and prominence are based on a system historically shaped by the teachings of Christ, yet he returns to use an argument that diminishes the value of this foundation, which goes beyond the issue of contradiction to denial. The matter here transcends the issue of insult to open the door to another question: did he err in description or inference, or did he reveal – intentionally or unintentionally – the features of the path he is treading? It is not difficult to consider Netanyahu's words and actions as an explicit admission that he is following in the footsteps of Genghis Khan, even if some see otherwise. His focus on the issue of impact, whatever the cost, cannot be ignored, which is understood as an adoption or admiration at the very least. In other words, even if he does not explicitly admit to following Genghis Khan, he has made it a project or a concept at least. Genghis Khan built his empire over rivers of blood and mountains of skulls. Although this logic today has become more complex and is based on alliances, military superiority, and opening multiple fronts, the common denominator is the reshaping of reality through power and blood exclusively. And precisely here lies the problem: redefining legitimacy by the logic of power, not values. But it is a logic that overlooks a harsh historical truth: every project based solely on power, no matter how solid, strong, and extensive it may seem, carries within it the seeds of its demise. Genghis Khan's empire, which reached extreme power, vanished because the power that created it was not enough to sustain it. This is the most important historical lesson: sustainability requires making this system morally acceptable to some extent. Consequently, Netanyahu's statement places his project in a precarious position. He admits that power is what grants him the ability to act and is the sole basis for creating the historical moment. But by the same logic, the logic of history, he also places his project in the choice of time, and history provides a conclusive answer, but it remains that it is not always who won, but who created the impact. And between those who ruled by the sword and those who ruled by an idea, the question remains that no power can overcome: what will remain when the cannons fall silent? Power, or the impact created to endure without the need for power?