Israel’s weekend airstrikes against Iran have inspired the usual range of commentary from those who follow this conflict closely. Some fear that it marks a severe escalation, spurring the region closer to all-out war. Others hope that it could spark a winding-down of tensions, possibly creating the conditions for a broad cease-fire.
Of course, nobody knows which set of experts is right. Let’s parse the arguments for each.
Among the most compelling reasons for optimism is that Israel showed impressive restraint in its attack. After Iran launched about 200 ballistic missiles at Israel on Oct. 1 (itself a response to Israel’s killing of Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah four days earlier), some in Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s Cabinet urged him to destroy Iran’s energy and nuclear facilities. Asked about that option, President Joe Biden said he would not approve it, urging that any retaliation be “proportional.” And, largely thanks to Biden’s pressure, it was. Iran had attacked Israeli military targets, mainly air bases and intelligence facilities; Israel mounted a three-wave attack against just over 20 Iranian military targets, though of a somewhat wider range—air bases, missile production factories, and air defense sites.
This last set of targets—the air defense sites—were, in some ways, the most valuable. Israeli jets flew hundreds of miles inside Iranian territory, evading Russian-built anti-aircraft systems, often destroying those systems along the way. In some cases, they destroyed systems that protected Iran’s energy and nuclear facilities while leaving the facilities themselves untouched. The message was clear: We can do much more damage than we’re doing this time. Attack us again, and the gloves come off.
This is the Iranian leaders’ dilemma. On the one hand, they want to show that they can stand up to Israel and protect their allies—the “axis of resistance” that includes Hamas, Hezbollah, Palestinian Islamic Jihad, and the Houthis. If that were their main concern, they would fire another salvo of missiles at Israel. On the other hand, like most state leaders, they have a keen interest in the protection of their strategic assets and the survival of their regime.
If the latter interest outweighs the former, they may declare the missile war of October to be over—just as they did under similar circumstances this past April. And in fact, Iranian response has been muted, declaring the right to strike again but stopping short of suggesting that they will do so.
But then what happens? Will they enforce a policy of restraint across the axis of resistance (except perhaps for the Houthis, who seem beyond anyone’s control), or will they encourage their allies to launch more attacks, retreating from their recent foray into direct warfare against Israel and resuming their strategy of hiding behind proxies?
Another question: Will Iran accelerate its nuclear program in order to build a more potent deterrent to Israeli incursions in the next confrontation? Many of Iran’s nuclear sites are deeply buried and very hard for the Israeli air force to hit. Still, this would be a gamble. Some of the sites are quite vulnerable, and, though Iran could enrich enough uranium to build a bomb in a matter of weeks, it would take them at least another year to mold that uranium into a usable weapon. Israeli and U.S. intelligence would detect that process and take action to disrupt it.
Finally, much of what happens in Israeli–Iranian relations—including the continuing rocket fire between Israel and surviving Hezbollah forces in Lebanon—will be shaped by, and in turn shape, the continuing war in Gaza.
After Israeli soldiers killed Hamas’ leader, Yahya Sinwar, on Oct. 16, some analysts (including me) wrote that his demise could open the door to a diplomatic settlement of the conflict. Bob Woodward wrote in his book War, which happened to come out around the same time, that at a few points during the endless rounds of negotiations over the war, Hamas’ political spokesmen, who live in Doha or Cairo, had approved a cease-fire formula on the table—but that Sinwar, who had to be consulted while hiding in Hamas’ network of tunnels, rejected the plan. With Sinwar gone, would those spokesmen, who call themselves leaders, rise to the occasion?
Over the weekend, just after Israel’s attack on Iran, Saudi media reported that Hamas would soon offer a new plan: they would release all the remaining hostages, right away, in exchange for Israel withdrawing all its troops from Gaza. If true, two questions come to mind. First, do Hamas’ diplomats have the power to deliver on releasing the hostages? Second, would Netanyahu take the deal? So far, he has rejected the idea of a total Israeli withdrawal for as long as Hamas remains in power. Could he (and, from Israelis’ point of view, should he) regard post-Sinwar Hamas as something different, especially if all the hostages are released at once? Might he do so if the deal were coupled with a cease-fire (including the end of Hamas firing rockets into Israel) and a plan for, say, Egypt and Saudi Arabia to rebuild Gaza, which would involve occupying the territory and guaranteeing both Gazan and Israeli security?
Israeli defense minister Yoav Gallant recently reiterated his long-standing criticism of Netanyahu for failing to pursue any strategy for stabilizing Gaza after the war is over. (Gallant, a member of Israel’s war Cabinet, is a longtime political rival to Netanyahu, though he has generally agreed with him on the war plan—avidly so, when it comes to the war in Lebanon.)
There is no sign at the moment that Netanyahu will relax his opposition to a total troop pullout, though his thinking may be influenced by next week’s U.S. presidential election. If he thinks Donald Trump is more likely to win, Netanyahu will probably be even more resistant to compromise than he has been, as Trump has publicly said that he would let the Israelis do whatever they need to do to win the war—invading all of Gaza, attacking Iran’s nuclear facilities, anything just to get it finished quickly.
If he thinks Vice President Kamala Harris is more likely to win, he might be tempted to take a deal before her inauguration. Harris has emphasized her ironclad commitment to Israel’s defense, but has been very vocal on Israel’s need to minimize Palestinian civilian casualties. Biden has been vocal on this point too, but some Israelis—perhaps including Netanyahu—seem to believe, perhaps correctly, that Harris would be more likely than Biden to pressure Israel on this point. If Harris does win, Netanyahu might want to strike some kind of deal before she takes office.
But all this is speculative. If some sort of peace is to be struck, a lot of moving parts have to be jostled into place. The Biden administration may not have the bandwidth to do so much jostling (though it’s a mistake to view Biden himself as a lame duck—he effectively insisted on Israel’s “proportional” attack against Iran and actively took part in approving the target list). The Iranians may still be wrestling with their dilemmas. The Arab neighbors, especially Egypt and Saudi Arabia, have never been inclined to take the first steps in shaping the region’s political contours, even if doing so would be in their interest. And Hamas’ post-Sinwar power structure is too opaque to know whether anything said at a bargaining table in Doha or Cairo would be obeyed in the tunnels of Gaza.
Biden and Harris would more than welcome a cease-fire—even a temporary one—in the days before the election, but its prospects lie beyond their control.
