The U.S.–Israeli war on Iran was launched with expansive objectives, foremost among them the overthrow of the regime, alongside targeting the nuclear and ballistic missile programs, which have constituted the backbone of the Islamic Republic’s long-term strategic investment over decades.

However, the trajectory of the confrontation quickly produced a strategic impasse that reordered the priorities of the conflict. This was reflected in Iran’s demonstrated ability to effectively shut down the Strait of Hormuz from the very first days, pushing global energy markets to unprecedented levels of pressure and transforming the strait into a central instrument in the management of the confrontation.

Within this context, an Iranian approach is taking shape that seeks to transform the Strait of Hormuz into a strategic leverage card one capable of offsetting the costs of war and reconstituting Iran’s regional and international position through a vital asset that generates both revenue and influence.

At the same time, the ongoing bilateral talks between Tehran and Muscat are emerging as a practical entry point for recalibrating the legal status of the strait, within arrangements that would grant the two littoral states exclusive authority over managing transit. This opens the way for the formulation of a new model that combines de facto control on the ground with formal legal structuring.

How Does International Law Address Maritime Straits?

International law rests on a delicate balance between written texts and actual state practice. This extends to patterns of behavior that gradually crystallize over time into stable international conduct, within a framework that prevents every “fait accompli” from automatically becoming a legal rule. Instead, facts are subjected to a complex test that determines which of them may rise to the level of binding obligation.

In this context, what is known as customary international law emerges as the pathway through which practice is transformed into legal rule, through the convergence of two elements: the consistency and repetition of behavior on the one hand, and its association with broad international acceptance accompanied by a sense of legal obligation on the other.

Accordingly, the legal classification of maritime straits is addressed at two complementary levels: a written contractual framework and an accumulated customary one. The United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS) constitutes the most important legal framework in this regard, as the comprehensive instrument regulating the use of seas and oceans. It entered into force in 1994, though its foundations extend back to earlier agreements and established customary rules.

Looking to the origins, the Corfu Channel case represented a foundational moment in regulating passage through straits. In its ruling, the International Court of Justice established a customary rule affirming the right of ships including warships to non-suspendable passage through international straits in peacetime.

This principle was subsequently codified in the 1958 Geneva Convention on the Territorial Sea, before being further developed and expanded within the broader framework of UNCLOS.

Within this framework, passage through straits is governed by three principal legal regimes. The first is the regime of transit passage, as established by UNCLOS, which guarantees freedom of navigation and overflight for all ships and aircraft through straits connecting parts of the high seas or exclusive economic zones, without discrimination based on nationality or on civilian or military character.

This right includes the passage of submarines in a submerged state, as this represents their normal mode of operation. The regime itself emerged alongside the expansion of the territorial sea to 12 nautical miles, which resulted in the disappearance of most high seas corridors within straits.

The second regime is innocent passage, the older and more deeply rooted concept in international law. It is defined as passage that is not prejudicial to the peace, good order, or security of the coastal state. This regime applies in the territorial sea, as well as in straits that do not meet the conditions for transit passage. It grants coastal states the authority to take measures to prevent any passage that loses its “innocent” character.

The fundamental difference between the two regimes lies in the scope of authority granted to the coastal state. Transit passage does not permit the suspension or restriction of passage, even in cases of military maneuvers, and allows ships, aircraft, and submarines to fully exercise freedom of transit. By contrast, innocent passage provides a broader margin for coastal state intervention where its security or public order is affected.

In addition, there exists a third regime applicable to straits wider than 24 nautical miles, where parts remain within the high seas or exclusive economic zones. In such cases, freedom of navigation applies in those areas, alongside the application of innocent passage in the portions adjacent to coastlines.

Major International Straits and Their Legal Status

International straits do not operate under a unified legal regime, despite the existence of UNCLOS as a comprehensive framework. Legal arrangements vary depending on geographic, historical, and political specificities. Some straits fall directly under the convention’s rules, others are governed by special treaties, and still others occupy gray zones where customary law intersects with political arrangements.

The Strait of Gibraltar stands as one of the most prominent examples of straits governed by stable customary practice. It constitutes a strategic passage linking the Mediterranean Sea with the Atlantic Ocean and separating Africa from Europe. Navigation through it is governed by entrenched international practice, despite the ongoing political dispute between Spain and the United Kingdom over sovereignty in surrounding areas.

The Strait of Malacca, for its part, represents a vital artery of global trade, linking the Indian Ocean with the Pacific Ocean and extending between the Malay Peninsula and the island of Sumatra. It is managed within a cooperative framework involving Indonesia, Malaysia, and Singapore, and is subject to the navigation rules set out in UNCLOS, ensuring the continuity of commercial flows through one of the busiest maritime corridors in the world.

Similarly, the Bab el-Mandeb Strait occupies a highly sensitive position as the southern gateway to the Red Sea and a critical link between Gulf energy markets and trade routes toward Europe. While it is governed by the regulatory framework of UNCLOS, its strategic importance has made it vulnerable to recurring disruptions that directly affect maritime security and global supply chains.

In contrast, certain straits are governed by special legal regimes, as is the case with the Bosporus and the Dardanelles, which are subject to the Montreux Convention. This agreement grants Turkey regulatory powers that exceed the general framework of UNCLOS, particularly with regard to the passage of warships and the imposition of restrictions on vessels belonging to non–Black Sea states.

Within this diversity, the Strait of Hormuz stands out as a complex case that combines high strategic importance with significant legal ambiguity, given its location between Iranian and Omani waters and its direct connection to global energy security.

The Strait of Hormuz and Iran’s Legal Obligations

The legal situation of the Strait of Hormuz is marked by a high degree of complexity, resulting from the overlap between treaty-based obligations and the interpretive positions of the states concerned. Iran has signed the Geneva Convention on the Territorial Sea, UNCLOS, and the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, but has not ratified any of them, placing it in a legal position that allows broader latitude in interpreting its obligations.

By contrast, the United States and Israel both also non-parties to UNCLOS maintain that the regime of transit passage constitutes a settled rule of customary international law, and is therefore binding regardless of ratification.

When Iran signed UNCLOS in 1982, it declared that certain provisions, foremost among them transit passage, do not reflect existing customary rules but rather represent treaty-based arrangements among the parties. From its perspective, this means they do not apply to non-ratifying states.

This position is reflected in Iran’s national maritime law issued in 1993, which recognizes the regime of innocent passage under specific conditions, without any reference to transit passage or acknowledgment of the Strait of Hormuz as an international strait in the sense defined by the convention.

Geographically, the strait extends approximately 90 nautical miles and narrows at certain points to around 21 nautical miles, placing its waters entirely within the territorial seas of Iran and Oman. Roughly one-fifth of global oil supplies around 20 million barrels per day passes through it, granting it exceptional weight in the global energy security equation.

Most navigation occurs through Omani territorial waters, which offer safer routes within a traffic separation scheme approved by the International Maritime Organization.

The core legal complexity stems from the strait’s location connecting two exclusive economic zones, which—under Article 37 of UNCLOS—would subject it to the regime of transit passage. However, Iran adheres to a different interpretation, maintaining that prevailing customary law enshrines innocent passage as the applicable regime.

Oman, the other state overseeing the strait, ratified UNCLOS in 1989 but, like Iran, requires prior authorization for the passage of warships. The United States rejects this requirement, viewing it as an unlawful restriction on freedom of navigation.

In light of this, the Strait of Hormuz presents a compounded legal situation that can be described as a “legal vortex,” where competing interpretations intersect with strategic interests, and no single governing rule commands consensus.

This reality opens the door for different actors to impose their own readings and deal with the strait according to conflicting conceptions, reflecting a sharp entanglement between law and politics in managing one of the world’s most sensitive maritime corridors.

The War Dilemma and the Path to Resolution

Since February 28, 2026, the Strait of Hormuz has entered a new phase of geopolitical instability following joint U.S.–Israeli military strikes on Iran, which included the assassination of Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei.

Tehran responded through the Revolutionary Guard and the armed forces with a series of missile and drone attacks targeting U.S. bases, sites in the occupied Palestinian territories, and locations in Gulf states, alongside direct warnings of a ban on navigation in the strait, which quickly translated into an actual disruption of shipping.

In the first phase, Iran moved toward a comprehensive closure of the strait. On March 3, 2026, it announced the suspension of passage and carried out direct attacks on vessels attempting to transit. This coincided with the launch of the U.S. military operation “Epic Rage,” which targeted Iran’s command-and-control infrastructure, Revolutionary Guard bases, missile systems, and naval assets.

During this period, 21 confirmed attacks on commercial vessels were recorded by March 12. U.S. President Donald Trump declared his intention to reopen the strait by force, repeatedly asserting that Iranian naval capabilities would be destroyed. However, developments on the ground demonstrated the persistence of effective Iranian control over navigation in the strait.

With the difficulty of imposing a direct military reopening, Iran shifted in the second phase to a model of selective management. It established a “safe corridor” north of Larak Island near Bandar Abbas, where ships are subjected to inspection and verification procedures before being granted passage.

Maritime reports described this arrangement as resembling a coercive “customs booth” system imposed by force, coinciding with legislative efforts in the Iranian parliament to impose fees on transiting vessels. Cases of actual payments in Chinese yuan were recorded.

In the third phase, this model evolved into explicit political discrimination in granting passage rights. On March 27, the Revolutionary Guard announced a ban on vessels linked to the United States, Israel, and their allies, while allowing ships from specific countries including China, India, Malaysia, and Pakistan to pass.

Other states began pursuing direct arrangements with Tehran to secure transit for their vessels. Iran later exempted Iraqi ships from restrictions, reflecting the transformation of the strait into a tool of foreign policy.

These developments sharply affected shipping traffic. By March 31, only 292 commercial vessels had passed under Iranian supervision a decline of approximately 95 percent compared to pre-war levels, according to UNCTAD data. Brent crude prices exceeded $100 per barrel on March 8, peaking at $126, in what was described as the largest disruption to energy supplies since the 1970s.

Turning Crisis into Opportunity

Iran is seeking to leverage the Strait of Hormuz crisis as a means of reshaping its legal status, by introducing a new demand within settlement conditions for ending the war: securing international recognition of its sovereignty over the strait. This aligns with early statements by the new Supreme Leader, Mojtaba Khamenei, emphasizing the continued use of the strait’s closure as a strategic instrument.

Within this framework, Tehran is working to formulate a new protocol for managing the strait, based on requiring prior arrangements for all transiting vessels, including agreements with Iran and Oman and the acquisition of permits before passage even in peacetime.

Under this vision, the two littoral states would become directly responsible for regulating navigation and ensuring security. Iranian Deputy Foreign Minister Kazem Gharibabadi.This indicates the possibility of subjecting ship traffic to joint supervision and coordination aimed at ensuring safety, environmental protection, and the provision of services.

The Iranian proposal is grounded in a legal approach that argues its non-ratification of UNCLOS limits its binding force upon it, and that interpretive space within customary international law particularly in narrow straits within territorial waters opens the door to redefining navigation rules. Within this framework, Tehran proposes the possibility of imposing fees on transiting vessels, provided they are linked to actual services such as security, environmental monitoring, and navigational coordination, thereby granting the measure a defensible legal basis.

In contrast, this approach faces clear legal objections. Prevailing legal scholarship suggests that imposing general transit fees in an international strait contradicts established norms of navigational freedom, even if fees for specific and direct services are accepted. This view rests on the principle that transit passage, as the governing regime for international straits, does not permit coastal states to impose restrictions or financial burdens that constrain this right.

At the same time, bilateral negotiation tracks between Tehran and Muscat have begun at the level of deputy foreign ministers, with the participation of technical and legal teams from both sides. These discussions focus on arrangements for managing the strait and ensuring stability in navigation, reflecting a trend toward consolidating the role of the two littoral states as the primary authority in regulating transit, within a framework of joint governance.

The true significance of this approach lies as much in its timing as in its substance. Concluding a bilateral protocol before the end of military operations would impose a new negotiating reality that would be difficult to reverse later. Even if a broader agreement is reached, the persistence of such a protocol would leave it in place as an independent legal framework between two sovereign states, requiring a separate process to amend or dismantle it.

Thus, the Iranian effort shifts from seeking explicit international recognition of sovereignty over the strait to consolidating that sovereignty through regulated practice anchored in a bilateral agreement establishing a joint governance mechanism that circumvents the need for formal international endorsement.

This reflects a calculated transition from contesting legal texts to imposing legally structured realities, thereby reshaping the rules governing one of the world’s most critical maritime corridors.

What Does It Mean for Hormuz to Become a “Strategic Asset” for Iran?

From an economic perspective, Iran seeks to transform control over the Strait of Hormuz into a stable source of income through the imposition of transit fees. Estimates indicate that approximately 20 million barrels of oil passed daily through the strait; imposing fees on tankers could generate monthly revenues in the hundreds of millions of dollars. When including liquefied natural gas shipments, this could constitute a significant share of Iran’s energy revenues.

These figures gain further significance when compared to the revenues of the Suez Canal, which generates comparable monthly income despite being an artificial waterway under full sovereign control. Tehran is effectively seeking to replicate a similar model in a natural passage with a far more complex legal status.

Politically, Iran’s objective extends beyond immediate economic returns to establishing a precedent that could be replicated in other contested maritime corridors, including regions such as the South China Sea, where sovereignty disputes intersect with vital global trade routes. This makes the Hormuz model a test case for redefining the relationship between geography, sovereignty, and law.

The role of Oman, the other state overseeing the strait, is also critical. Muscat may view the proposed arrangements as an opportunity to secure economic gains and relative stability, particularly given its more limited oil resources compared to its Gulf neighbors, thereby increasing the likelihood of accepting a temporary framework for managing the strait.

Within this framework, Iran is operating according to a pattern aimed at shifting from a position of absorbing economic losses resulting from military strikes to one of active agency—producing a new reality on the ground through which the legal classification of the strait is reshaped. In this sense, the war is transformed from an economic burden into an opportunity to rebalance power dynamics by constructing a sustainable resource and a long-term negotiating lever.

Should the Iranian–Omani arrangement succeed, Tehran would not merely have imposed a new equation of control over one of the world’s most critical maritime corridors. It would also have inaugurated a trajectory of accumulating strategic gains that extend beyond the war itself recasting the strait as a sovereign, revenue-generating asset and a source of enhanced stability, regime consolidation, and regional repositioning, under a legal framework capable of gradual entrenchment over time.

“Were it not for certain factions of the Popular Mobilization Forces (PMF) that have been fighting on Syrian territory for the past six years, the Syrian regime would have fallen into the hands of ISIS,” said Ahmad al-Asadi, the PMF’s media official in Iraq, on August 14, 2017.

Iraqi militias began supporting the Syrian regime in the early days of the Syrian uprising in 2011. Fighters from the Mahdi Army, affiliated with the Sadrist Movement, entered Syria in November 2011, according to Anbar’s then-governor Qassim Mohammed al-Fahdawi, who said he had obtained evidence confirming the entry of armed Mahdi Army elements into Syria to assist the now-ousted regime.

The Syrian Network for Human Rights documented at least ten massacres committed between March 2011 and December 2014 by Shiite militias—including Iraqi factions—alongside Syrian government forces, resulting in the deaths of no fewer than 1,005 people.

The PMF or Its Factions?

Since 2003, Tehran has viewed Iraq as an opportunity to expand its influence by backing Shiite armed factions, many of which later became part of the PMF. Established in 2014 to combat ISIS, the PMF was eventually incorporated into Iraq’s formal military structure and placed under the armed forces.

On November 26, 2016, the Iraqi parliament passed the Popular Mobilization Commission law, amid a boycott by lawmakers from the Sunni Iraqi Forces Alliance, who described the legislation as “a blow to national partnership.”

Despite the PMF’s denial of involvement in combat operations in Syria, factions operating under its umbrella supported the Syrian army in battles against armed opposition groups. These included Kataib Hezbollah, Harakat al-Nujaba, the Badr Organization, and Asaib Ahl al-Haq, among others.

Iraqi political researchers told Noon Post that Syrian circles often conflate the PMF with Iraqi factions, arguing that the PMF itself did not directly participate in fighting against the opposition forces that now govern Syria.

However, this distinction is challenged by the participation of brigades and units affiliated with the PMF in Syria. Iraqi Foreign Minister Fuad Hussein stated in a March 26 interview with Dijlah TV that it is difficult to distinguish between the PMF and Iraqi factions, particularly when these groups use the PMF’s equipment, logistics, and identities.

From the outset of Iraqi factions’ involvement in Syria, the Iraqi position has appeared deeply contradictory marked by a gap between official rhetoric and realities on the ground. While Iraqi authorities consistently denied allowing fighters to be sent to Syria even under the pretext of protecting Shiite shrines such as Sayyida Zainab near Damascus field evidence pointed to the steady movement of Iraqi fighters, either individually or through informal networks, often with logistical backing or encouragement from Shiite factions and political parties.

Inside Iraq, the effects of this involvement were unmistakable. Funeral ceremonies for fighters killed in Syria were held publicly in central and southern cities, attended by local figures and officials from ruling parties lending a semi-official character to activities the government officially denied.

Groups such as Asaib Ahl al-Haq, Kataib Hezbollah, and Hezbollah–Islamic Renaissance acknowledged, to varying degrees, that their presence in Syria was part of a “religious duty” to protect holy sites, while maintaining that their role did not involve direct combat alongside regime forces.

Political divisions further complicated the picture. The Sadrist Movement denied sending Mahdi Army fighters to Syria, insisting its activities were confined to Iraq. In contrast, figures from the Islamic Supreme Council, such as Abdul Hussein Abtan, argued that the deployment of Shiite fighters to Syria did not violate the law, framing it as a voluntary effort to protect shrines if the Syrian state failed to do so.

Monitoring Syrian-Lebanese Coordination to Disarm Hezbollah

Iraqi factions have exploited the US-Israeli war on Iran to justify strikes on Syrian territory, ostensibly targeting US bases. However, some attacks have hit Syrian army positions. The al-Tanf base recently handed over to Syrian forces was struck on March 28, while Syrian military sources reported repelling a large-scale drone attack on March 30 targeting multiple bases near the Iraqi border.

It remains unclear whether these actions are attempts to provoke the Syrian government into a broader conflict or serve as warning signals against Damascus’ involvement in Israeli efforts to disarm Hezbollah in Lebanon.

Iraqi factions themselves fear a similar fate to Hezbollah, as Baghdad under US pressure moves to disarm armed groups, including some within the PMF. This effort faces significant political and security challenges.

Security analyst Nawwar Shaaban told Noon Post that Hezbollah’s disarmament could be part of a broader regional restructuring driven by international pressure, led by the United States to gradually dismantle Iran-linked armed actors.

Shaaban added that the PMF fears the Lebanese model could later be applied in Iraq, making any Syrian support for Hezbollah’s disarmament particularly sensitive.

Conversely, Iraqi political analyst Mohammed Nasser Turki argued that the PMF views the issue primarily through the lens of sovereignty, distinguishing between state positions and factional roles. From this perspective, developments in Lebanon should remain an internal matter handled by Lebanese institutions, free from external pressure.

The Future of PMF–Syrian Government Relations

Recent videos have shown PMF-affiliated fighters criticizing Syria’s new government and former opposition factions, accusing them of ties to al-Qaeda and likening them to ISIS. They also claim that the Sayyida Zainab shrine in Damascus is unsafe under the new authorities.

Officially, however, PMF head Faleh al-Fayyad stated in December 2024 that the group would not interfere in Syrian affairs, reaffirming adherence to directives from Prime Minister Mohammed Shia al-Sudani.

In February 2025, al-Fayyad expressed support for the changes chosen by the Syrian people and endorsed engagement between Baghdad and Damascus.

Shaaban suggests that relations are more likely to be recalibrated than to escalate into open conflict. While the PMF remains a key actor along the Iraq–Syria border, Damascus seeks to assert sovereignty and regulate military activity.

Potential scenarios range from controlled friction with continued coordination to limited escalation through calibrated strikes short of full-scale confrontation.

Turki similarly expects no major escalation, emphasizing the distinction between the PMF as a state institution and independent armed factions.

Oil as a Driver of De-escalation

On March 26, Iraq’s Oil Ministry unveiled plans to expand export infrastructure, including a new pipeline to Syria’s Baniyas port.

Officials are studying routes from southern Iraq branching toward Jordan and Syria as part of a broader strategy to enhance export flexibility amid geopolitical risks.

Rather than rehabilitating the old Kirkuk–Baniyas pipeline, Iraq now favors building a new integrated line. Historically, the pipeline established in 1952 has been deeply affected by regional politics, including shutdowns during wars and sanctions.

Amid the current energy crisis triggered by the US-Israeli war on Iran and the closure of the Strait of Hormuz, the project could offer an opportunity to improve Iraqi-Syrian relations.

Economic expert Nawwar al-Saadi argues that while tensions involving PMF factions may complicate cooperation, they are unlikely to derail major energy projects, which are driven by long-term economic logic rather than short-term political dynamics.

Cross-border energy projects have historically acted as stabilizing mechanisms by creating mutual dependencies. The Kirkuk–Baniyas line, for instance, would generate transit revenues, support refining operations, and meet domestic energy needs encouraging all parties to maintain stability.

If implemented, the project could shift Iraqi-Syrian relations from volatile political ties to more stable, interest-based economic cooperation provided a minimum level of security is maintained.

History operates according to a rigid logic: some events mark clear turning points, sometimes constituting a rupture with what came before. When the United States and Israel struck targets in Iran on the morning of February 28, the conflict extended far beyond the region.

China, as one of the primary buyers of Iranian oil, may suffer from the war, yet it also has a strong interest in preserving the status quo that drains the United States consistent with a Confucian principle often cited in Chinese foreign policy: “Sit by the river and wait for your enemy’s corpse to float by.” Meanwhile, Russia stands to benefit in multiple ways from the diversion of U.S. resources and the disruption of global energy markets.

So far, the European Union in general and NATO and the G7 in particular have shown no desire to become militarily involved in the conflict. Nevertheless, even without direct participation, they face serious challenges stemming from the war’s economic and energy repercussions. Oil and gas prices have risen sharply across the EU, likely ushering in inflation and economic slowdown.

This comes at a time when the EU is attempting to fully abandon Russian fossil fuels, which have been relatively stable, affordable, and predictable. Moreover, in member states more open to accepting refugees, the war has heightened risks of terrorism and migration pressures.

The Iranian conflict has also exposed tensions within NATO between the United States and its European allies. Yet some EU leaders appear determined to exploit the situation to sustain support for Ukraine.

These contradictions open a window onto one of the war’s most significant consequences. While economic blocs and military alliances such as NATO, BRICS, the G7, and the Shanghai Cooperation Organization were meant to consolidate shared interests against rival blocs, internal divisions within these groupings are increasingly evident.

At times, these conflicts of interest reach a point that could lead to fragmentation or failure as may be the case for NATO and the G7 or even prevent emerging organizations like BRICS from fully consolidating. How, then, is this war reshaping regional and global alliance projects? And can we anticipate where this trajectory is headed?

An Alliance on Top of a Volcano

With the exception of Japan, the United States, Canada, the United Kingdom, France, Germany, and Italy form the core of NATO and are also members of the G7, bound together by economic cooperation. These countries are thus united within economic frameworks while ostensibly sharing a common geostrategic vision regarding global security, the Middle East, maritime security, and supply chain resilience.

At the 2025 Hague Summit, France insisted on classifying Iran as a hybrid threat to NATO and regional security, citing its alliances with Russia and China and its network of regional militias. Yet when war broke out, this threat appeared largely theoretical in NATO’s eyes, as its major members rejected military involvement particularly after Europe began to feel the economic fallout.

For his part, Donald Trump has shown little regard for Europe’s complex positions or the interplay between security and economic considerations within NATO. In the early hours of March 28, speaking in Miami Beach, he remarked: “Is this breaking news? I think we have breaking news,” hinting that he was seriously considering withdrawing from NATO, which he described as a burden on the United States.

Trump has made similar statements repeatedly—even before the Iran war—making it difficult to determine whether he is serious or rhetorical. For Europe, however, such remarks raise pressing questions about NATO’s future without U.S. leadership. With the outbreak of war, these concerns have become more tangible than ever, especially as U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio continues to press NATO members on the war’s merits while attempting to soften Trump’s rhetoric.

“NATO’s Secretary-General Mark Rutte once remarked, ‘Our father—“Daddy,” as he originally put it—sometimes likes to use harsh language,’” in a moment of flattery directed at Trump in June 2025. When the war erupted, Rutte declared NATO’s full support for Trump, stating: “He is doing this to make the entire world safer.

Let’s not be naive. Iran has been a source of chaos in the region and the world for years, and what the United States is doing is undermining that capability. I support that.”

Rutte’s remarks encapsulate a classic wartime dilemma: security for the sake of the economy, or the economy for the sake of security? Yet most NATO members appear unwilling to echo such deference. Some have begun signaling that patience is wearing thin.

“We were surprised by an American ally—still an ally—but one that is becoming increasingly unpredictable and does not bother informing us before launching military operations. That threatens our security and interests,” said General Fabien Mandon, Chief of Staff of the French Army.

This divergence reflects a fractured Western relationship with the United States one that began to show strain in 2018 with Trump’s initial threats to leave NATO and has intensified during his second term, from tariff disputes to Greenland and Ukraine, and now the Middle East.

NATO and the G7: Fractured Partners

The historic abbey in Vallée de Chevreuse—now a Rothschild-owned hotel—may be one of France’s most tranquil retreats. But tranquility was not afforded to Marco Rubio, whose latest attempt to bridge divisions within the G7 proved unsuccessful.

This dissonance is evident in a series of statements pushing back against Trump’s rhetoric. UK Prime Minister Keir Starmer affirmed: “We will not be dragged into this war. Our forces can only be deployed under carefully considered and lawful plans.”

At the same meeting on March 27, French Defense Minister Catherine Vautrin emphasized: “This is not our war,” adding that diplomacy remains “the only path capable of restoring peace.”

The meeting underscored widening gaps among allies. Doubts over the war’s value are growing, while six member states condemned attacks on civilians in Iran without naming the perpetrator a signal of unease toward Washington. More critically, concerns were raised that the Middle East conflict could undermine U.S. commitments to Ukraine. Rubio’s response was far from reassuring: while arms sales continue, shifting priorities may become unavoidable.

On the same day, Japan warned that the oil crisis triggered by the war could lead to prolonged inflationary pressures. With nearly 90% of its crude oil imports passing through the Strait of Hormuz, Tokyo faces a stark dilemma between security priorities aligned with Washington and economic stability.

Eastern Blocs: A Foggy Landscape

Unlike previous conflicts, BRICS has yet to issue a unified stance. South Africa, China, and Russia have each expressed support for Iran, while India’s position remains cautious. Egypt, a recent member, appears torn between condemning the attack and maintaining ties with Gulf partners and the United States.

The war reveals that the relationship between Russia, China, and Iran is not a cohesive bloc but rather a flexible alignment driven by intersecting interests. While these states increasingly form an informal strategic triangle, their policies remain guided by national priorities.

Within institutions like the Shanghai Cooperation Organization and BRICS, the conflict represents a stress test. While neither bloc can rival U.S.-Israeli military power, the crisis may accelerate efforts to deepen economic coordination, expand yuan-based energy trade, and establish alternative payment systems.

Yet structural limits remain. As analyst Alexander Gabuev notes, BRICS is not a military alliance and carries no obligation of mutual defense. Expectations of it evolving into a Western-style bloc are likely misplaced.

BRICS: Structural Contradictions

Political scientist Oliver Stuenkel argues that criticism of BRICS as ineffective stems from a flawed assumption that it is meant to function as a unified geopolitical alliance. In reality, its diversity is not a weakness but a defining feature.

Since its inception in 2009, BRICS has brought together countries with divergent priorities. Expansion in 2024 including Iran, Egypt, Ethiopia, and the UAE has only deepened internal complexity. Even consensus on major issues, such as UN Security Council reform, remains elusive.

Stuenkel concludes that internal divisions do not signal failure. Western alliances themselves are similarly divided over Iran. BRICS, he argues, is better understood as a flexible diplomatic platform rather than a formal alliance.

Future Scenarios: Dependent on China

According to economist Alicia García-Herrero, the war places China at a strategic crossroads. A U.S. victory could undermine Beijing’s multipolar vision, while failure to support Iran risks damaging its credibility among Global South partners.

Conversely, a U.S. withdrawal could open the door for expanded Chinese influence through diplomacy and investment echoing the geopolitical shifts following the U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan in 2021.

Ultimately, many analysts believe the future of multipolar institutions hinges on China’s decisions. Yet others argue that BRICS will endure regardless, as its purpose is not unity but flexibility.

As Stuenkel concludes: BRICS is not an alliance in the traditional sense, but a diplomatic space one where rising powers coordinate selectively, hedge against uncertainty, and pursue influence without committing to a unified strategic agenda.

The Zionist project, in its earliest stirrings, was not merely a cold political scheme or a material settler movement. Rather, it rested on a deeper ontological foundation that harnessed art and literature as tools for constructing identity. Decades before the declaration of the “state,” early theorists had come to believe that art was not a luxury, but an ideological mission a conscience shaping the spirit of the age.

From this vision, Jewish artists drawing on a blend of religious heritage and influences from both Western and Islamic environments embarked on a battle over identity. They sought to liberate the Jewish persona from the disparaged image of exile, while projecting that very contempt onto the “other,” often depicted in paintings as the “Turkish man.”

These pioneers consistently bent the brush to serve the biblical narrative, revived Hebrew as a living, everyday language, and developed artistic movements that granted the Zionist project cultural and historical legitimacy. In this context, art functioned as a compass, redirecting belonging toward the “Promised Land” by entrenching a duality of persecution and longing.

As Peter Beinart noted in an interview with Noon Post, a powerful current argued that Zionism meant first creating a Hebrew-speaking culture before establishing a “state.”

The thinker Ahad Ha’am (1856–1927) is considered the spiritual father of this orientation. He believed that material settlement alone could not create a state unless the Zionist movement established a cultural center capable of unifying dispersed intellect and emotion. In his view, founding a single art school was a national goal more consequential than building one hundred settlements.

His words became a manifesto for artists such as Boris Schatz (1867–1932), who called at the Fifth Zionist Congress in 1902 for the establishment of an art school in Jerusalem, seeing art as a potent educational tool for promoting national consciousness.

The Trio of the Brush

In their book The Ideology of Zionist Art (Red Sea, 2024), academics Dr. Jamal Al-Rifai and Dr. Najwa Al-Masri examine, across 158 pages, the works of three artists born in the late 19th century who either attended or were influenced by the First Zionist Congress in Basel in 1897. Through their artistic features, they shaped the early face of Zionism:

1. Moshe Shah Mizrahi (1870–1940): A Persian Jew who adapted the art of miniature painting to serve religious narratives.

2. Ephraim Moses Lilien (1874–1925): The Austrian spiritual father of Zionist art, who built his philosophy on the impossibility of survival outside Palestine. He depicted the “ghetto” as suffocating darkness pierced only by the rising sun of a Zionist future. He co-founded the Bezalel School of Fine Arts in Jerusalem in 1906.

3. Ze’ev Raban (1890–1970): Considered a father of Jewish art due to his leadership role in the Bezalel School. Unlike his predecessors, much of his work consisted of posters. Among his most notable designs was a poster titled “Come and See Palestine,” commissioned by the Jewish National Fund to encourage Jewish investors to finance land purchases. Ironically, it explicitly used the name “Palestine,” undermining the Zionist claim that the land had not previously been known by that name.

Biblical Narratives

In a miniature inspired by Old Testament stories, Mizrahi depicts the sacrifice of Isaac a narrative central to Jewish culture as a representation of the covenant between the people of Israel and God.

The painting portrays four figures: Abraham, Isaac, Ishmael, and the servant Eliezer. Isaac appears as rational and devout, willingly carrying wood as he follows his father, the Prophet Abraham, who is depicted wearing the Jewish prayer shawl, the tallit. Though historically anachronistic, the shawl underscores the sanctity of the divine command to sacrifice the son, with Abraham holding a sword in preparation.

In contrast, Ishmael is dressed in Ottoman attire, wearing a red fez, holding a sword, and smoking a hookah imagery suggesting hostility or indifference. This portrayal aligns with biblical depictions of Ishmael as wild and uncivilized, projecting these attributes onto his descendants. Genesis 16:12 describes him as “a wild man; his hand will be against everyone.” The servant Eliezer is also dressed in Turkish clothing.

The four corners of the miniature contain inscriptions: “Answer us, O God of Abraham, answer us,” “Answer us in the merit of Isaac’s fear,” and “Here is the city, the holy city; Jerusalem will be rebuilt swiftly in our days, amen.” The artist signs his name in the final square, noting his residence in the holy city.

Politicizing the Sacred

Another of Mizrahi’s works, The Fall of Goliath, visually narrates the biblical story of David’s victory over Goliath. Goliath, symbolizing evil, appears as a towering giant dominating the scene, accompanied by numerous soldiers, while David is depicted as smaller in scale, emphasizing the triumph of faith over brute force.

Again, Goliath’s soldiers are dressed as Ottoman troops, reinforcing the depiction of Jewish enemies in Turkish form. Mizrahi even portrays them performing the Sufi whirling dance, circling Goliath’s body as the axis of their movement.

Meanwhile, Theodor Herzl, the founder of political Zionism, appears in a work by Lilien standing on a balcony overlooking the Rhine, depicted as a biblical prophet holding a tablet suggesting that his message rivals the sanctity of Moses and that Zionist teachings are inseparable from Judaism.

Lilien frequently contrasted the harshness of Jewish life in European ghettos with the radiant motif of sunlight symbolizing hope in a new homeland flowing with “milk and honey” and freedom.

Under the biblical verse “Your eyes shall behold Zion,” he created From the Ghetto to Zion, employing chains and darkness to represent oppression in exile, contrasted with the luminous promise of the barren Promised Land awaiting cultivation. This duality of light and darkness symbolized liberation akin to the Exodus from Egypt.

In another work titled Zion, Mizrahi depicts the Star of Zion above the Dome of the Rock, accompanied by the phrase “Here lies the Temple.” Surrounding the composition are biblical verses emphasizing Jerusalem’s sacred status: “Open to me the gates of righteousness… Zion shall be redeemed with justice… If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget.”

An Ambiguous Methodology

Despite the book’s originality and the importance of its subject, as well as its effective use of artistic examples, its methodology remains unclear, particularly regarding the criteria for selecting the featured artists.

While it analyzes major works by three prominent Zionist artists a Persian, an Austrian, and a Polish figure it essentially introduces the formative phase of art employed in service of the Zionist project. The book mentions other contemporaneous artists, such as the German Else Lasker-Schüler, but offers little discussion or explanation for their exclusion.

Perhaps the authors focused on leading pioneers rather than attempting a comprehensive survey, especially since they position their work as an extension of Egyptian artist Saad Al-Khadem’s seminal study Art and Zionist Colonialism (1974).

It is also possible that recurring ideas led them to select more prominent examples. Nonetheless, clarifying the criteria for artist selection remains necessary.

The book does not limit itself to analyzing paintings; it also examines posters, caricatures, and book and magazine covers. However, it suffers from some repetition in chapter introductions and would benefit from greater factual precision.

Its chapter on political caricature is less successful, focusing on a later 20th-century period unrelated to the formative phase of the Zionist project, instead addressing Arab–Jewish conflict and hostility toward Gamal Abdel Nasser.

Revisiting the legacy of these pioneers in shaping ideological art allows us to understand the cultural architecture that continues to cast its shadow over the region today. What began as Mizrahi’s miniatures or Raban’s propaganda posters evolved over decades into a cohesive visual and literary narrative seeking to monopolize representations of civilization while portraying the surrounding environment as either primitive or inherently hostile.

Cultural Zionism succeeded in transforming the struggle from one of geography and borders into a battle over perception, language, and memory echoing Ahad Ha’am’s early calls to prioritize cultural institutions over physical settlements.

Deconstructing these aesthetic veneers and reading them within the context of occupation remains essential. Art, once envisioned as the conscience of the age in Zionist thought, was consciously deployed as an instrument of erasure and exclusion.

“O Hell, open your gates—Hafez al-Assad is among your beloved.”
Zainab Sayed still vividly remembers the phrase her father uttered when commenting on the death of Hafez al-Assad. It was an unbearably hot summer day that those present in the house described as “a breeze from hell to welcome the damned.”

With this memory, the physician from the city of Idlib recalls the political conversations that used to take place in her family home before Syrians rose up against the rule of the Assad family in March 2011 when political discussion was effectively forbidden, and talk of politics was rare, if not almost nonexistent.

Today, however 15 years after the first chant against Assad’s rule shattered the barrier of silence politics has become a living topic and a natural part of everyday life in Syrian households. Political debates now appear around dining tables, in the streets, and across social media platforms.

Through this report, Noon Post seeks to understand how the revolution reshaped Syrians’ political consciousness transforming it from silence and fear into debate and personal analysis by surveying the views of individuals from a generation that lived through politics before the revolution and another whose awareness was shaped afterward.

Conversations Shrouded in Fear and Caution

Speaking to Noon Post, Zainab says that political conversations in her family home before the revolution often revolved around criticizing the Assad family and recounting its history of crimes, violations, and manipulation of historical narratives. Yet such discussions were confined to her parents and conducted with extreme caution. Children were warned never to repeat what they heard, out of fear of potential consequences.

These conversations stemmed from the family’s opposition to the Assad dynasty, shaped by painful experiences tied to the events of the 1980s in Hama and Idlib.

After the revolution, however, political discussions became clearer, sharper, and more complex yet also more engaging. At the same time, the family experienced disagreements with acquaintances who adopted ambiguous or “gray” positions.

The physician adds that politics has become central to nearly every aspect of life. It has also become an important benchmark for evaluating people’s intellectual and moral standing, as well as determining the nature of relationships with them.

For her personally, this has translated into a clear stance: she does not welcome anyone who supports the regime within her social circle, believing that backing the regime contradicts conscience, moral values, and fundamental principles.

Zainab also notes that political discussions are now especially prevalent among young men and women within households. Topics frequently include postponement of military service and the recurring anxiety surrounding March 15 the date associated with the renewal of deferments from mandatory conscription.

Young people also debate the country’s conditions, education, employment, unemployment, and prospects for marriage all issues deeply intertwined with politics, particularly during the years of the revolution.

The Impact on Youth Awareness

A similar story emerges from the family of Muslim Badawi, a young man from the countryside of Idlib and the son of a former detainee in Assad regime prisons. The revolution pushed him to follow politics more closely, because events were no longer distant news but a direct part of the lives of those around him, as he told Noon Post.

Badawi believes the revolution made his generation far more politically aware than previous ones, largely because they experienced the changes firsthand and followed them daily through media outlets and social media platforms. He recalls that the outbreak of protests against Assad’s rule in 2011 was the first moment he realized that what was unfolding in the country would shape the future of an entire generation.

The March Revolution as a Gateway to Understanding

Rim Abu Halawa, originally from Damascus, grew up in a household attentive to politics and regional affairs, given the long-standing tensions affecting neighboring countries. As for domestic affairs, she was aware of the corruption and injustice practiced by the regime against the Syrian people, yet like many others she felt powerless to change it.

Abu Halawa tells Noon Post that the March revolution prompted her to delve more deeply into political understanding in order to grasp what was happening and answer questions posed by residents of the host country where she later moved. Many of them lacked adequate knowledge of events in Syria and often framed them simply as a “civil war,” rather than as systematic violence against those who demanded freedom.

She believes the revolution—and the displacement and injustice that accompanied it—helped strengthen political awareness among her generation. This awareness, she says, did not remain confined to Syria but extended to understanding the conditions of other countries that have faced or continue to face oppression.

Before the revolution, a limited segment of society possessed political awareness, she notes. But widespread helplessness and the absence of active political actors largely defined that period.

The Older Generation’s Perspective

What, then, does the older generation say and how do they perceive this transformation? How did they feel when their children became more politically engaged?

Mousa Abu Daher, a physician originally from the Qalamoun region in the Damascus countryside, told Noon Post that political discussions did exist within his family before the revolution, but within a very narrow space and under strict limits. The revolution, he says, expanded that space significantly.

The doctor adds that the new generation, aided by social media and constant exposure to unfolding events, has become far more aware of what is happening around them. Political discussions are now more common in his home and others, though differing levels of knowledge and experience sometimes create differences in viewpoints between generations what he describes as the contrast between “the wisdom of the elders and the fervor of youth.”

He observes, however, that his children have not necessarily followed politics more closely than he has. Their focus, he says, has been on overcoming suffering and forced migration through perseverance, education, and determination in order to reach higher achievements. Their struggle now, he explains, is to build awareness and ultimately rebuild the nation.

Abu Daher also emphasizes that politics is not limited to public affairs; it also encompasses economics and the management of daily life. For that reason, he argues, it is important for everyone to discuss politics and express their views in order to better understand reality and engage with it constructively.

The Barrier of Fear Has Not Broken for Everyone

Ibrahim al-Ghadir, originally from Deir ez-Zor, says he comes from a village where roughly 90 percent of residents support the regime. Before the revolution, his family had little interest in politics, the Baath Party, or national affairs. Syrian society in general, he recalls, rarely discussed politics at the time.

But with the start of the revolution, attitudes changed. Conversations within the family gradually shifted, and its members began supporting the course of the revolution.

Speaking to Noon Post, al-Ghadir says that the political thinking of the older generation had been heavily shaped by the ideology of Hafez al-Assad “in an unnatural way.” After the revolution, however, the younger generation appeared far more politically aware, with interests extending beyond Syria to global affairs.

He admits he never expected this generation to possess such levels of awareness, openness, and political experience.

He also notes that his children—over the past three or four years—have begun following politics and sometimes discussing it more than he does, or at least at the same level. Their discussions now often revolve around global politics rather than Syria alone.

Al-Ghadir believes the revolution broke the barrier of fear surrounding political discussion in most Syrian families but not all. Some families, even after the fall of the regime, still fear political debate. This may stem from lingering loyalty to the regime or from deeply ingrained fears, while the majority now speak with greater freedom.

Social and Political Transformation After the Revolution

According to Hala Haj Ali, a social researcher at the Omran Center for Strategic Studies, the transformation in Syrians’ relationship with politics since 2011 particularly in conversations between parents and children has been significant.

Speaking to Noon Post, she says that the sharp disagreements and political divisions that once existed within many families between regime supporters and opponents have gradually begun to recede.

In the past, it was common for families to hold divergent political views, with some members supporting the regime and others backing the opposition. Some opponents were forced to leave the country or were displaced, resulting in prolonged separation from their families and contributing to a degree of social fragmentation within certain households. Today, however, social relations have regained a measure of stability even among those who once held opposing political positions.

Haj Ali attributes this to the fact that the center of these conflicts was tied to the Assad regime itself. With that central point removed, the intensity of the divisions has diminished. Discussions of political issues within families have become more common, with some criticizing the new government while others support it without such differences leading to estrangement or family rifts.

She explains that this transformation has had a positive effect on social relations in general and on family dynamics in particular. It reflects an expansion of the space for free discussion. People now talk about politics in their homes and public gatherings more spontaneously, whereas fear of arrest or informants once posed a major barrier. At times in the past, that fear ran so deep that relatives—even siblings and cousins—grew wary of one another.

Haj Ali believes that differing opinions are healthy because they open the door to dialogue and allow for multiple perspectives. Syrians, she notes, were not accustomed to a culture of dialogue for many years. What is happening today, therefore, can be seen as a gradual beginning in building such a culture within families and everyday conversations among relatives and friends.

Daily Challenges Keep Politics at the Forefront

Daily hardships also keep political discussions present in people’s lives. Economic and security concerns have become recurring topics in everyday conversations. While crises existed in the past, the prevailing sentiment was that change was impossible many believed that replacing governments would not bring any real improvement.

Today, however, interest in public affairs has grown. People follow officials’ statements and pay attention to ministers’ positions something that was not common before.

Social media and digital openness have also played a crucial role in this transformation. Access to multiple sources of information and exposure to diverse viewpoints have expanded political knowledge. Previously, information sources were limited and often confined to the regime’s media outlets. Today, public criticism is far more visible, especially on social media platforms.

Differences Between Syrians Inside and Outside the Country

Haj Ali also highlights differences in political awareness between Syrians inside the country and those abroad. Syrians who have lived outside the country often had greater opportunities to access information and participate in seminars and workshops, which helped strengthen their political awareness.

By contrast, such spaces were not available to those living under Assad’s rule, where civil activities and public discussions were either banned or heavily monitored. Civil society organizations were often used as tools of the regime rather than platforms for building political awareness.

Nevertheless, the researcher notes that political awareness has begun to develop among those who remained inside the country as well especially after earlier restrictions eased allowing them to attend seminars and engage in discussions without fear.

She adds that the development of political awareness should be understood within a broader cultural framework shaped by diverse experiences. Some experiences emerged abroad through the refugee experience and exposure to other societies, while others formed inside Syria despite repression. The interaction between these internal and external experiences has helped strengthen Syrians’ political awareness.

Still, a gap remains shaped by geography. Digital infrastructure and access to information are stronger abroad, while such opportunities remain more limited inside the country. Field experience from seminars and workshops also suggests that many young people inside Syria have a genuine desire to acquire broader political knowledge.

The challenge, however, often lies in limited access channels, which sometimes confine political awareness programs to elite circles instead of making them available to all segments of society.

While Israeli and American military strikes on Iran dominate television screens and newspaper headlines and analysts debate the intelligence efforts that preceded and accompanied the attacks other forces are quietly operating within Washington’s broader strategy to pressure Tehran.

These forces represent a complex constellation of actors with diverse agendas and backgrounds. Orbiting around them are opponents of the Supreme Leader’s system, including exile groups, ethnic militias, political dissidents, and human rights activists both inside Iran and across the diaspora.

How, then, has Washington leveraged Iranian opposition forces in its strategy to undermine the rule of the Supreme Leader? In what ways have these actors served the political and intelligence dimensions of American and Israeli military operations? How has Washington helped them construct a narrative of legitimacy and what role has it envisioned for them? This article seeks to answer these questions and more.

An Old Game

Washington’s reliance on dissidents and breakaway groups is not a recent policy. For decades, the United States has mobilized internal actors to advance its international strategic objectives without direct military intervention. Iran has been no exception. Over the years, Washington has funded and mobilized various opposition forces to the Iranian regime, despite the profound differences and sometimes contradictions among them in ideology, goals, and strategies.

From the Mujahedin-e Khalq to supporters of Reza Pahlavi and Kurdish dissident groups, Washington has pursued multiple avenues. What unites these disparate actors is a single objective: destabilizing Iran’s domestic front and applying pressure on the Supreme Leader’s system in pursuit of its eventual collapse.

The map of Iranian opposition has never been static, either geographically or historically. The decades following the Iranian Revolution that toppled the Shah saw continual shifts in the opposition landscape, shaped in part by the prevailing international climate.

Washington’s approach and tools for exploiting these groups also evolved accordingly. Immediately after the Islamic Revolution, opposition forces were divided between monarchists led by Reza Pahlavi and leftist and Marxist factions hostile to the United States.

But the collapse of the Soviet Union in the early 1990s and the formal end of the Cold War prompted many professionals, students, journalists, and academics advocating secularism to leave Iran for exile communities abroad. These diaspora networks gradually formed new coalitions seeking an ideological framework capable of uniting opposition to the Supreme Leader. Many of them adopted a narrative centered on human rights and secular governance as an alternative to the Islamic Republic.

American backing of opposition groups has had a dual effect inside Iran. On the one hand, the Supreme Leader’s establishment has consistently used the narrative of “collaboration with America” to discredit all forms of opposition and rally support among followers of the Islamic Republic and supporters of Ayatollah Ali Khamenei.

On the other hand, some Iranian opposition figures have openly emphasized their ties to Washington in order to win trust and support from segments of society frustrated with the regime particularly those impoverished by U.S. sanctions and the heavy costs of the long-standing Iranian-American confrontation.

Ethnic Minorities: An American Thorn in Tehran’s Side

Iranian and Iraqi Kurds entrenched in the mountainous borderlands between the two countries represent both a source of concern for Tehran and a potential entry point for Washington. This relationship is not new: the CIA has a long history with Kurdish groups in Iraq and Syria, including military training, arms support, and intelligence cooperation.

Today, the agency is once again looking toward Kurdish actors. Their potential role could range from tying down Iranian forces to give popular protests room to gain momentum, to establishing control over northern Iran and opening a corridor through which Israel could strike Iranian territory from within.

Only days after the first American strikes on Tehran part of “Operation Epic Wrath,” launched simultaneously with Israel’s “Lion’s Roar” operation in late February, during which Donald Trump called on Iranians to rise up and seize power White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt confirmed that the U.S. president was in close contact with Iranian opposition groups, foremost among them Kurdish factions.

She said Washington was seriously considering arming and training these groups and providing them with intelligence needed to topple the Iranian government without requiring a U.S. ground invasion.

CNN reported that Trump had been in communication with Mustafa Hijri, leader of the Democratic Party of Iranian Kurdistan, amid statements from Kurdish officials suggesting the party intended to participate in military operations in western Iran in the coming days.

Axios also reported that Trump had contacted Masoud Barzani, leader of the Kurdistan Democratic Party, and Bafel Talabani, head of the Patriotic Union of Kurdistan, just one day after the start of the latest military operation against Iran.

This American approach had been preceded by Israeli pressure to exploit Kurdish groups in the confrontation with Iran. In the months leading up to the latest assault, Mossad reportedly established intelligence networks with Kurdish factions in Syria, Iraq, and Iran.

A Long History of Intelligence Cooperation

The proposed intelligence cooperation between the CIA and Kurdish separatist groups in Iran and Iraq is not emerging in isolation amid the current crisis. The coordination often described as part of a “shadow war” inside Iran relies on communication between the CIA and Iranian dissidents, including ethnic minorities.

Its roots stretch back to Operation Ajax, the 1953 coup that toppled the democratically elected government of Mohammad Mossadegh and restored the Shah to the throne.

Intelligence cooperation has taken many forms over the decades. It has ranged from propaganda campaigns and the mobilization of public protests to gathering sensitive intelligence and activating operational cells within Iran to spread instability, violence, and chaos.

One of the most prominent partners during the 1980s and 1990s was the monarchist movement in exile led by Reza Pahlavi, after the Islamic Revolution overthrew his father in 1979. American reports indicated that Pahlavi received significant CIA backing for years beginning in the 1980s in efforts to challenge the Supreme Leader’s rule.

Another key actor has been the Mujahedin-e Khalq (MEK), a group that has alternated between political activism and functioning as an armed transnational militia. For a long time it attracted Washington’s attention.

Although Washington later designated the MEK a terrorist organization and halted its funding under congressional legislation despite accusations that the United States had initially helped create and finance the group the situation eventually changed. The group’s political arm in Washington, the National Council of Resistance of Iran (NCRI), mounted sustained lobbying efforts to have the organization removed from the terrorism list and to restore support. Iranian officials have long questioned whether Washington ever truly stopped backing the group.

U.S. reports have stated that the MEK provided crucial intelligence on Iranian nuclear facilities at the outset of Washington’s global “war on terror.” Cooperation with the CIA reportedly continued until the group was removed from the terrorist list in 2012.

Reports have also surfaced—including one from ABC News—suggesting that the CIA recruited the Pakistani militant group Jundallah to conduct espionage operations inside Iran, while allocating budgets specifically for intelligence operations targeting Tehran.

Among the groups cooperating with the agency were also Kurdish separatist leaders in the region. Their roles ranged from peaceful opposition to the Supreme Leader’s regime to espionage and armed attacks against Iranian forces. Prominent among them were the Democratic Party of Iranian Kurdistan (KDPI), the Komala Party of Iranian Kurdistan, the Kurdistan Free Life Party (PJAK), the Khbat Party, and the Kurdistan Freedom Party.

The CIA has also maintained a base in Iraq’s Kurdistan Region, facilitating the collection of regional intelligence and coordination among Kurdish factions along the Iranian border.

This complicated relationship dates back to the 1970s, when the CIA used Kurdish groups in operations against Saddam Hussein’s Iraq before temporarily abandoning them following the 1975 Algiers Agreement, which addressed the Iran–Iraq border dispute.

The Weapon of Funding and Human Rights Programs

American funding initiatives under the banner of supporting democracy in Iran have long served as an important channel for guiding and shaping opposition movements. Over decades, Washington has allocated substantial sums to Iranian opposition actors, supporting civil society and human rights organizations aligned with U.S. priorities while also funding internet infrastructure, radio broadcasts, and media outlets critical of the regime and encouraging dissent.

Washington diversified its entry points into Iranian society. Support was not limited to armed militias or explicitly political opposition groups calling for the overthrow of the Supreme Leader’s system. It also extended for years to civil society organizations and social actors operating under the banner of human rights advocacy from women’s rights and children’s rights to labor rights and religious freedom.

Following the September 11 attacks, Washington sharpened its rhetoric toward Tehran. President George W. Bush famously labeled Iran part of the “Axis of Evil,” yet continued to frame policy in terms of reform rather than explicit regime change. In 2002, Congress allocated $20 million to promote democracy in Iran.

In 2006, the Bush administration requested an additional $75 million for reform and democracy initiatives. Of that amount, $36.1 million was directed to Voice of America and Radio Farda, two U.S.-backed Persian-language broadcasters. The remainder was distributed among human rights and civil society organizations inside and outside Iran, including the Iran Human Rights Documentation Center based in Connecticut.

The National Endowment for Democracy (NED), funded by the U.S. Congress, has also played a significant role in financing Iranian opposition initiatives. Since the early 1990s, the organization has supported activists, journalists, and institutions critical of the Iranian government, providing generous funding to civil society organizations focused on documenting human rights violations by Iranian authorities.

Critics have long accused the NED of serving as a cover for U.S. intelligence operations aimed at destabilizing governments and interfering in internal affairs.

Among the movements supported by the NED was the Iranian protest movement “Woman, Life, Freedom,” which emerged in 2022 following the death of Kurdish woman Mahsa Amini while in police custody in Tehran. While the organization does not publicly disclose exact figures or recipients, it allocated $283 million in 2023 for 1,989 projects and initiatives worldwide centered on rights and freedoms.

Another recipient has been the organization Democracy for Iran, which openly calls for the overthrow of the Supreme Leader’s system. Based in the United States, it includes Iranian opposition figures focused on documenting human rights conditions and promoting a democratic alternative aligned with Washington’s political vision for Tehran.

Washington has also funded initiatives through other channels, including the Near East Regional Democracy (NERD) fund an initiative established by the U.S. State Department in 2009 during the Obama administration specifically to support civil society and anti-regime media in Iran. With a budget of roughly $600 million, it replaced an earlier program known as the Iran Democracy Fund created by the Bush administration in 2006.

While the earlier initiative emphasized internet freedom and documenting protests inside Iran, the Obama administration shifted toward supporting external soft-power programs—training journalists, documenting human rights violations, and providing tools such as VPNs to circumvent internet censorship.

Funding for these programs has occasionally faced restrictions in Congress and was cut several times during the Trump administration, which criticized certain foreign aid programs as unnecessary spending. The cuts sparked criticism from both American and Iranian pro-opposition voices who argued that such measures effectively silenced the Iranian opposition during critical moments.

Civil society organizations focused on information and narrative-building also received funding from the U.S. government’s Global Engagement Center, which supported media initiatives targeting Russia, China, and Iran before being shut down in December 2024 by the Trump administration on grounds of inefficiency.

Media: Washington’s Soft Weapon

Washington has also deployed media as a tool to empower Iranian opposition movements. It established and funded Persian-language outlets such as Radio Farda and Voice of America, which broadcast via satellite to Iranian audiences in order to bypass internet restrictions and present narratives that challenge Iran’s state media.

Voice of America receives funding from Congress through the U.S. Agency for Global Media, with a budget reaching $199.5 million for the broadcaster and $643 million for the parent agency in the 2026 fiscal year. Similarly, Radio Farda has functioned as Washington’s radio arm targeting Iran, though recent decisions by the Trump administration threatening funding cuts have cast uncertainty over its future.

Washington has also supported internet freedom initiatives designed to maintain communication among protesters during periods of government-imposed online restrictions. One such effort is the 2026 “Internet Access and Use Now for Iran Act” (IRAN Act), aimed at developing satellite broadcasting strategies and VPN tools while ensuring that U.S. sanctions do not block the technologies needed by Iranian opposition activists to organize inside the country.

Another legislative initiative, the “Iran Human Rights, Internet Freedom, and Accountability Act,” seeks to expand programs such as the Iran Internet Freedom Grant one of several initiatives funded by the U.S. State Department and the Open Technology Fund to support opposition networks.

At the same time, Washington has offered opposition figures advocating regime change broad access to U.S. media platforms and political coordination within the United States. Iranian dissidents have frequently appeared in major American media outlets as voices representing the Iranian people, while opposition-led events and campaigns have received logistical, financial, and media support.

Following the latest U.S. military campaign against Tehran, American media significantly amplified the presence of Iranian opposition voices across television and news programming. Figures such as Masih Alinejad and Goldie Ghamari appeared repeatedly on Fox News, calling for stronger U.S. pressure to topple the Iranian government.

Other networks including CNN, NBC, and NewsNation similarly gave platforms to Iranian diaspora activists, journalists, and Kurdish opposition figures. Many of these voices advocated dismantling the Islamic Republic either through intensified U.S. military strikes or through a transition toward a secular government modeled on Western systems.

Critics, however, have accused segments of the U.S. media of promoting a selective narrative that focuses on particular opposition figures while ignoring alternative perspectives turning the media landscape, in their view, into an extension of political propaganda during the current crisis.

Mobilization and the Iranian Lobby

Beyond media exposure, Washington has also supported conferences and gatherings of Iranian opposition groups inside the United States aimed at consolidating and mobilizing dissent abroad.

In 2023, prominent opposition figures including Reza Pahlavi, Masih Alinejad, and Nobel laureate Shirin Ebadi held a widely publicized conference at Georgetown University in Washington, D.C. The event sought to highlight younger opposition voices and introduce them to media and public audiences.

Such gatherings followed earlier rallies organized under broad slogans such as women’s rights, human rights, and opposition to dictatorship and theocratic rule. These events received logistical, financial, and media backing from Washington.

Meanwhile, Iranian opposition figures in the United States have also organized politically and diplomatically, forming lobbying groups that work with Congress and successive U.S. administrations to push for tougher sanctions on Tehran and stronger diplomatic pressure. Some have even advocated military strikes against Iranian facilities.

Although no single unified opposition bloc exists in Congress, these groups share a common objective: the overthrow of Iran’s theocratic system and its replacement with a secular democratic government modeled after Western systems.

Among the most visible organizations is the National Iranian American Council (NIAC), which has pursued diplomatic engagement while opposing comprehensive sanctions but maintaining calls for political change in Iran. Other influential groups include the Organization of Iranian American Communities (OIAC) and the National Council of Resistance of Iran (NCRI), both of which support the Mujahedin-e Khalq and advocate regime change through all available means.

In a Washington Post opinion column on what he called “Trump’s theory on Iran,” commentator Marc Thiessen argued an article Trump himself shared twice on social media that a costly U.S. ground invasion is unnecessary. Instead, he suggested, Iranians themselves could serve as the soldiers on the ground capable of completing the mission if properly guided.

Washington, it appears, may indeed be pursuing this strategy: feeding a fire with fuel that ultimately belongs to others.

Since 2013, the northern Syrian province of Raqqa has undergone one of the most complex experiences in the country in terms of shifting control and changing systems of governance. A succession of different powers has ruled the city, each leaving deep marks on the social and psychological fabric of its population.

This constant transformation was not merely a political or military transition. Rather, it represented a prolonged process of reshaping the relationship between society and authority, raising serious questions about the ability of Raqqa’s community to preserve its cohesion after years of instability and uncertainty.

Unlike other Syrian cities that experienced relatively stable patterns of control, Raqqa faced a series of rapid and contradictory shifts. Residents were forced to continually adapt to different governing authorities, each with its own security apparatus, administrative mechanisms, and political rhetoric. The speed of these transitions weakened any sense of institutional continuity and deepened a general feeling of fragility.

The Beginning of the Transformations

Raqqa’s transformation began in March 2013, when Syrian government forces were expelled from the city. It was briefly ruled by Islamic opposition factions before control passed to the Islamic State group, which remained in power until it was expelled in October 2017. The province then came under the control of the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF), backed by the international coalition.

That period lasted until early 2026, when the new Syrian army entered Raqqa, ending more than a decade during which the province experienced multiple competing authorities.

March 2013 marked the first radical shift as Raqqa slipped from the grip of central authority and entered a phase of local administration led by opposition and Islamist factions. Although that moment carried broad hopes for a new civilian administration reflecting the aspirations of the population, realities on the ground soon revealed deep structural challenges.

Emerging local councils lacked institutional experience and sufficient resources. At the same time, the multiplicity of military authorities created overlapping powers and conflicting decisions. In the absence of organized international support, the city fell into administrative and security confusion, reflected in declining basic services and growing disorder.

This vacuum not only weakened the city’s ability to build a stable governing model but also created an intensely competitive environment among armed factions. Gradually, it paved the way for the rise of more organized forces capable of imposing control—chief among them the Islamic State.

Civil activist Mohammed al-Zaher says the period preceding the Islamic State’s entry into Raqqa was filled with contradictions. Feelings of hope mixed with fear. After the city was freed from the control of President Bashar al-Assad’s government in 2013, Raqqa witnessed an unprecedented surge of civic and grassroots activity.

Local volunteer initiatives flourished, relief and education offices opened, and the first nucleus of civilian councils began to form in an attempt to manage the city’s affairs.

Al-Zaher adds that residents aspired to an independent civilian administration. Yet the lack of institutional experience among local actors, coupled with competition between armed factions, created security confusion. Signs of disorder gradually appeared through the proliferation of armed checkpoints and conflicting authorities, fueling early anxiety among residents.

According to his account, civil society attempted to play a balancing role through local dialogue initiatives and the organization of relief work. However, limited resources and military fragmentation restricted the effectiveness of these efforts. Society lacked the capacity to govern itself without a stabilizing authority a role that the factions at the time were unable to assume.

The Rule of the Islamic State

By late 2013, the Islamic State (ISIS) exploited divisions among the factions and gradually established full control over the province. This period marked the harshest turning point in Raqqa’s modern history. The group imposed a system of governance based on strict security control, public punishments, and intense surveillance over everyday life.

During those years, Raqqa became socially closed off. Public spaces shrank, civic life faded, school curricula were restructured, and civil activity almost disappeared. Residents lived under a multi-layered surveillance system that created a psychological environment saturated with fear and mistrust.

Fear of denunciation and accusation eroded horizontal trust among residents themselves—an effect that rarely disappears quickly even after direct security control ends. The group’s harsh policies also forced large numbers of residents to flee internally and abroad, creating temporary demographic imbalances in some areas.

Journalist Hamad al-Mustafa recounts that ISIS rule represented one of the most difficult periods in Raqqa’s history, not only in terms of security but also in the paralysis of institutional and educational life.

He says that in the early days of the group’s rule, most government offices were swiftly shut down. Official services gradually ceased, while public buildings were converted into security or administrative headquarters for the organization.

Al-Mustafa adds that the education sector was among the hardest hit. Schools and universities were closed for varying periods before the group reopened some schools under newly imposed curricula and limited them to male students. Many educators refused to work under such conditions, leaving a major gap in the education system and increasing dropout rates.

According to the journalist, the city entered a state of near-complete institutional paralysis. Traditional civilian authorities disappeared, basic services declined, and the group imposed strict restrictions on movement within the city. The closure of universities and the suspension of academic activity deprived thousands of students of continuing their education, leaving long-term consequences the city still struggles with today.

Regarding the group’s judicial practices, al-Mustafa says the Islamic State imposed a rigid system of rulings that radically reshaped daily life in Raqqa.

The group enforced strict discipline through harsh punitive regulations affecting nearly every aspect of public life from clothing and social behavior to commercial and educational activities. This created a pervasive climate of fear and social withdrawal.

These measures were not merely security policies but part of an effort to reshape society according to a closed ideological vision, leaving deep psychological and social scars that the city continues to grapple with.

“SDF and the Illusion of Democracy”

ISIS rule in Raqqa ended in October 2017 after a major military campaign carried out by the Syrian Democratic Forces with the support of the international coalition. The city then entered a new phase under slogans of reconstruction and building a more stable local administration.

However, the massive destruction caused by the battles posed a central obstacle to rapid recovery. Entire neighborhoods were destroyed, and water, electricity, and sewage networks were heavily damaged. Educational and health institutions remained disrupted for long periods, making the restoration of normal life slow and complex.

Alongside service-related challenges, issues emerged regarding the heavily securitized nature of governance and the continuation of arrest campaigns. Slow reconstruction and limited job opportunities further contributed to a lingering sense among some residents that the promised stability had not fully materialized.

Lawyer and human rights advocate Ghada al-Akkawi says that during the period when the Syrian Democratic Forces administered Raqqa, broad slogans of decentralization and local democracy were raised. In practice, however, there was a clear gap between official rhetoric and actual governance mechanisms. Many key decisions, she says, remained confined to narrow circles, limiting the ability of local civilian structures to operate independently.

Al-Akkawi notes that the administrative model applied in Raqqa displayed a high degree of security centralization. Sensitive files particularly security matters and major service sectors—remained largely outside meaningful public oversight. This reality weakened the confidence of segments of the population in local institutions and reduced civic participation to a largely symbolic role.

She adds that the rhetorical adoption of a “democratic administration” project during the SDF period was not matched by sufficient institutional development to ensure transparency, accountability, and local decision-making. Limited representation of some social groups in decision-making positions, combined with slow progress in addressing economic and service issues, deepened a perception among parts of society that the model did not fully reflect its declared promises.

Al-Akkawi concludes that any local governance experience in a fragile environment like Raqqa must move beyond slogans and toward measurable institutional practices based on expanded social participation, stronger independence for civilian councils, and clear legal frameworks. Bridging the gap between rhetoric and implementation, she argues, remains essential for rebuilding public trust in the long term.

The period of rule by the Syrian Democratic Forces lasted more than eight years. In early 2026, the province entered a new phase following shifts in control and the beginning of different administrative arrangements, eventually returning to the authority of the emerging new Syrian state following the fall of the Assad regime in December 2024.

Social Consequences

Social indicators suggest that Raqqa continues to experience profound repercussions from years of instability. Repeated transformations have affected the mental health of residents, particularly children and young people, with signs of chronic anxiety, hypervigilance, and mood instability becoming more visible.

Children who grew up amid conflict experienced repeated interruptions to their education, while many lived for extended periods under fear and uncertainty. This reality threatens to create long-term educational and knowledge gaps that may later affect the labor market and productivity levels.

Psychologist Dr. Shawakh al-Aboud says that the rapid succession of authorities governing Raqqa produced what can be described as “accumulated trauma” among residents. People had little time to adapt to one governing system before another replaced it. Such rapid shifts in authority create chronic uncertainty one of the main factors undermining psychological security at both individual and collective levels.

Al-Aboud notes that the deeper psychological effect appears in the erosion of a sense of temporal stability. Individuals lose the ability to predict the near future, prompting them to adopt cautious and constantly alert behaviors. If prolonged, this condition can evolve into a lasting adaptive pattern reflected in elevated levels of anxiety and hypervigilance within society.

Children and adolescents were the most vulnerable to these transformations, as they grew up in an environment where rules and norms constantly changed. Exposure to multiple authorities with conflicting narratives may disrupt the development of values and identity among younger generations, potentially leading later to difficulties in social adaptation and diminished trust in institutions.

Al-Aboud also points out that the multiplicity of ruling authorities weakened horizontal trust among residents themselves. In such environments, fears of denunciation, misunderstanding, and conflicting loyalties often spread. Societies emerging from these experiences typically require long periods to rebuild social capital and restore mutual trust.

Addressing these effects, he argues, requires more than security stability. It demands long-term community mental health programs, the revitalization of civic and educational life, and the construction of stable institutions capable of restoring a sense of security and belonging. Psychological recovery in Raqqa is possible, he says, but it requires systematic interventions and sufficient time.

Tribes and Multiple Authorities

Although Raqqa has witnessed increasing urbanization since the 1950s and the emergence of civil society institutions, tribal structures remain an influential social framework, particularly in rural and peripheral areas.

During the years of conflict, different controlling powers sought to win the support of Arab tribes that constitute the majority of the province’s population. This dynamic re-politicized the tribal role in certain periods. Some tribes acted as mediators in resolving disputes or easing tensions, while some tribal leaders aligned themselves with ruling authorities.

Radwan al-Ali, a notable from the al-Naeem tribe in Raqqa, says that tribal communities found themselves facing an extremely complex reality amid shifting authorities and changing centers of power.

The rapid transformations placed tribes in a delicate position, often forcing them to deal with different authorities to preserve local stability and prevent their areas from sliding into chaos.

Al-Ali notes that the traditional tribal role in resolving disputes and containing tensions remained present despite political transformations. However, the multiplicity of ruling authorities sometimes limited the effectiveness of this role.

Tribes tried to maintain balanced relations with different forces in order to protect civil peace and prevent the social fabric of villages, towns, and the city of Raqqa itself from unraveling.

He stresses that tribal society in Raqqa paid a heavy social price for the prolonged instability. Relationships among some communities were strained by suspicion and alignments imposed by conflict. Yet tribal customs continue to function as an important safety valve in many areas, particularly during periods when institutional structures were weak.

Looking ahead, al-Ali emphasizes that the next phase requires strengthening integration between tribal roles and official institutions so that tribes support stability without replacing the rule of law. Unifying administrative and security authorities in Raqqa, he argues, would allow tribal leaders greater room to contribute to rebuilding social trust and supporting civil peace.

Reading the Broader Picture

A broader reading of Raqqa’s current landscape reveals deep social exhaustion after years of accumulated fear and uncertainty. This is visible in several field indicators, including weakened traditional social ties compared to the period before 2013 and a rise in individual, familial, and even tribal disputes in some areas.

Despite this, elements of resilience remain within society. Among the most notable are the strength of extended family networks, the continued mediation roles played by some local notables, and a widespread desire among residents to restore stability and normal life.

Commenting on these indicators, Dr. Shawakh al-Aboud says Raqqa’s experience aligns with known patterns in societies emerging from prolonged cycles of conflict. Accumulated fear and uncertainty gradually exhaust social systems. The weakening of traditional bonds and increase in individual disputes do not necessarily signal total disintegration but often reflect prolonged collective psychological pressure that diminishes communities’ natural capacity for self-regulation.

The persistence of resilience factors such as strong family ties and the mediation role of local leaders suggests that Raqqa’s social structure still retains a degree of flexibility. Societies that maintain these “core nuclei,” he says, tend to be better positioned for recovery if a stable environment allows for the rebuilding of social capital and the expansion of trust networks.

The current phase represents a sensitive crossroads. Continued economic and security pressures could slow social recovery. Conversely, investment in community mental health support, strengthened education, and improved living conditions could accelerate the restoration of cohesion.

Raqqa’s society has not lost its capacity to recover, al-Aboud concludes. But rebuilding trust and stability on sustainable foundations will require long-term, systematic interventions.

Ultimately, the future of social cohesion in Raqqa will depend on the success of the next phase in achieving stable governance, fair justice, and genuine economic development capable of restoring the city’s sense of security and belonging after years of upheaval.

If these conditions are met, Raqqa’s society possesses enough resilience to regain a significant degree of cohesion in the years ahead. If political and economic fragility persists, however, the risk of gradual social erosion will remain.

While diplomatic statements pointed toward a significant breakthrough in the Geneva negotiations where Tehran appeared ready to offer guarantees acceptable to Washington that it did not intend to enrich uranium for military purposes Israeli and American aircraft were refueling in preparation for launching military strikes on Tehran on Saturday morning.

What, then, happened? Were the American negotiations merely a deception and a means of buying time? Or did Washington fail to obtain what it sought through its maximum-pressure campaign against Tehran? Were the negotiations an attempt by Washington to construct a narrative of international legitimacy to justify escalation? Or has power diplomacy been Washington’s defining approach for decades?

Did Tehran truly fail to recognize the ruse, or was its cautious political optimism justified, with Iran itself also buying time? What impact did the negotiations have on the intelligence, military, and political coordination between Washington and Tel Aviv? This article seeks to address these questions and more.

A Winding Negotiation Track

Following the painful strikes that hit Iran’s nuclear facilities last June, Iranian President Masoud Pezeshkian signed a decree completely suspending cooperation with the International Atomic Energy Agency, barring its inspectors from entering Iranian nuclear facilities unless authorized by the Supreme National Security Council.

This legislative step was accompanied by statements from Iranian Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi, who affirmed that Tehran would not abandon its intention to enrich uranium despite the extensive damage suffered by its facilities, which had temporarily halted their operations.

It did not take long before Tehran returned to the negotiating table on August 22 in talks with France, Germany, and the United Kingdom, despite the looming threat of sanctions. Yet those negotiations were short-lived: less than a week after they began, the European states announced their intention to revive UN sanctions on Tehran.

Last November brought Omani mediation between Tehran and Washington, which carried promises from Donald Trump of the possibility of lifting American sanctions on Iran. This came before widespread protests erupted in Iranian streets in December, with demonstrators calling for the government’s downfall amid deteriorating living conditions.

Washington and Tel Aviv quickly embraced the unrest, encouraging protesters to remain in the streets in hopes of toppling the regime of Ali Khamenei, repeating that “help is on the way” a thinly veiled reference to the possibility of American military intervention.

Indirect negotiations over Iran’s nuclear program then began in Vienna on February 6, mediated by Oman between Washington and Tehran. Another round followed on February 17 at the highest levels, and a third a week later that Omani Foreign Minister Sayyid Badr bin Hamad Al Busaidi described as “productive and positive,” despite the absence of an agreement on uranium enrichment.

On February 27, Al Busaidi announced that Tehran had agreed to reduce its current nuclear stockpile to an unprecedentedly low level. Yet despite this pledge, Trump insisted that all options remained on the table. The following morning, Tehran received the first Israeli military strike in the current round of escalation.

Power Diplomacy

The latest round of negotiations between Washington and Tehran does not merely represent failed diplomacy. Rather, it forms an essential component of an American strategy of coercion that employs negotiations to build a narrative of legitimacy abroad, fragment domestic opposition, and finalize military and intelligence arrangements in the region before delivering a military strike.

Washington’s recent talks with Tehran thus follow a longstanding pattern in which negotiations accompany war efforts not to achieve a fair peace or even prevent conflict at its minimum threshold, but to serve as political and strategic tools preparing the ground for a military strike whose decision was made before the parties ever sat at the negotiating table.

This pattern of coercive diplomacy marked by misleading negotiations preceding military action—was evident during America’s open-ended “War on Terror,” which defined the early decades of this century. In 2003, shortly before invading Iraq, Washington promoted what it called a “last chance for diplomacy,” leading UN inspection efforts before ultimately declaring diplomatic efforts a failure and arguing that military action was necessary to neutralize weapons of mass destruction.

The same pattern repeated in Libya in 2011. Prior to NATO’s military intervention in Tripoli under Washington’s leadership, the United States promoted diplomacy accompanied by sanctions within a strategy of pressure and threats that included multiple negotiation rounds with Muammar Gaddafi’s government. Those talks soon reached what Washington described as a dead end, paving the way for direct NATO intervention under the banner of “protecting civilians.”

Nor is last year’s strike on Tehran far removed from this pattern. The Trump administration sent contradictory and misleading signals suggesting that military strikes on Iran’s nuclear facilities could be avoided if Tehran responded positively to direct and indirect negotiations with Washington. Yet the administration abruptly struck those facilities on June 22, after Israel had begun attacking nuclear sites on June 13.

Washington’s negotiating approach reflects the theory of “power diplomacy,” or coercive diplomacy, articulated by American economist Thomas Schelling, who laid the foundations for many concepts governing conflict, nuclear strategy, and social behavior in the United States. According to this theory embraced by the Trump administration—threats of harm precede the use of force in order to influence the motivations and behavior of the adversary sitting across the negotiating table.

Trump’s “maximum pressure” policy toward Tehran since his first presidential campaign exemplifies this approach: negotiations accompanied by strict deadlines and threats of military intervention. In March, prior to the first military operation against Tehran, Trump sent a stern message to Iran’s Supreme Leader granting him two months to reach an agreement on the nuclear program. This was followed by the twelve-day war between Tehran and Tel Aviv, which included American strikes on Iran in June 2025.

The same pattern resurfaced during last February’s negotiations, when Trump gave the Supreme Leader 10–15 days—beginning February 19—to reach an agreement satisfactory to Washington regarding Iran’s nuclear program and ballistic missile system, threatening military action if no agreement was reached by the deadline.

Even before the minimum deadline expired, Tel Aviv and Washington launched the first strikes in the current round, despite conflicting diplomatic statements about the progress of negotiations.

The U.S. administration adopts the “deadline strategy” not to enhance credibility but rather as a mechanism for domestic and international justification while also providing the element of surprise, as strikes often occur before the deadline expires.

Deception Through Statements

American deception does not rely solely on deadlines followed by early strikes. It also involves diplomatic signals that contradict reality. Before last June’s “Midnight Hammer” strike, American officials continued to issue reassuring statements about the possibility of successful negotiations.

White House spokesperson Karoline Leavitt, reading an administration statement, said Trump believed further talks with Tehran were possible and that he would decide on military action within two weeks. The attacks began the very next day.

The same pattern occurred prior to the most recent attack, triggering accusations that Washington negotiated in bad faith. Omani mediator Al Busaidi expressed Muscat’s disappointment at what he called the undermining of “serious and effective negotiations,” urging Washington not to escalate further and stating, “This is not your war.” U.S. Vice President J.D. Vance had earlier reassured Al Busaidi that diplomacy remained possible and that momentum in negotiations was increasing an example of direct diplomatic misdirection toward mediators.

Despite this well-known tactic, Iranian officials maintained an optimistic diplomatic tone during the final negotiation round. One day before the strike, Araghchi stated that Tehran was preparing a draft agreement to present to U.S. special envoy Steve Witkoff in the coming days.

Although the strike itself had been broadly anticipated, its timing surprised some observers because of the cautious optimism expressed by mediators and reinforced by official American statements particularly given Tehran’s unprecedented guarantees regarding its nuclear program and its willingness to repeatedly return to the negotiating table. Tehran described the strikes as a “betrayal of diplomatic efforts.”

Military and Intelligence Preparations

Washington offered few signs of goodwill during the latest negotiation rounds. February witnessed a buildup of American military forces in the region unmatched since 2003. Alongside extensive deployments including at least twelve guided missile destroyers, F-22 stealth fighters, and more than one hundred refueling aircraft the aircraft carriers USS Gerald R. Ford and USS Abraham Lincoln, along with the destroyers USS Roosevelt and USS Bulkeley, arrived in the Mediterranean and the Arabian Sea.

The United States also increased its presence at military bases across the Middle East. American destroyers and warships reached Khalifa bin Salman Port in Oman, U.S. fighter jets gathered at Muwaffaq Salti Air Base in Jordan, and the destroyer USS Delbert D. Black took position in the Red Sea.

According to the Associated Press, an Israeli official said Washington and Tel Aviv had spent months gathering detailed intelligence by tracking the movements of Iranian leaders—including the Supreme Leader while monitoring military preparations and the readiness of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps.

This intelligence enabled three coordinated strikes by Tel Aviv and Washington in broad daylight on the first day of the attack, killing the Supreme Leader, members of his family, and forty senior Iranian officials across three different locations in a single minute.

Despite these signs of imminent military action, some optimistic analysts interpreted the buildup as a strategy of intimidation aimed at forcing Tehran back to negotiations under pressure or at most as preparation for limited strikes designed to compel Iran to make concessions. Trump himself hinted at this possibility by speaking of a potential “limited strike on Tehran” if Iran failed to respond. Tehran, meanwhile, warned that such military assets would become legitimate targets if used in hostile operations.

The Narrative of Legitimacy

Washington often uses misleading diplomacy to construct a narrative of legitimacy for escalation at both domestic and international levels. The strategy of “we did everything we could” before “reaching a dead end” has long served as a rhetorical prelude to American military interventions abroad.

In the period leading up to the latest strike, Washington echoed Tel Aviv’s warnings about the “existential threat” posed by Tehran’s political system to its vital interests and the safety of its citizens abroad. In announcing the military operation dubbed “Operation Epic Fury” on his Truth Social account, Trump claimed that Tehran possessed a military arsenal capable not only of threatening Israel and American forces overseas but also of harming Europe and even the United States itself. The ongoing large-scale operation, he said, aimed to eliminate Iran’s missile system, dismantle its military industry, and neutralize its regional proxies to prevent further destabilization.

Trump’s statement—that “Tehran has behaved badly for decades” placed the intervention within a broader historical framework stretching back to the 1979 Islamic Revolution, rather than presenting it as an immediate reaction to failed negotiations. Such framing suggests a far broader narrative one that invites Washington’s allies in Europe and the Middle East to participate in neutralizing what is portrayed as the “Persian threat,” moving beyond the cycle of action and reaction that characterized recent months.

This broader narrative was echoed in a statement by Benjamin Netanyahu, who announced the launch of “Operation Roar of the Lion,” describing it as an effort to save world peace threatened by Iran’s pursuit of nuclear weapons. A subsequent statement clarified that the operation was part of Netanyahu’s broader vision to reshape the Middle East.

Yet while the initial American narrative rested on the claim that diplomatic tools had been exhausted, subsequent statements from senior officials exposed contradictions and revealed the legitimacy crisis surrounding the intervention.

Early justifications claimed Iran had been preparing ballistic missiles to strike critical American interests and that Washington’s attack had preempted those strikes. However, leaked notes from a closed meeting of Trump administration officials on March 1 indicated that U.S. intelligence agencies did not believe Tehran intended to launch a preemptive war against American military capabilities unless Washington struck first.

Further contradictions emerged in statements by officials such as Marco Rubio, whose remarks sparked a wave of criticism both in the United States and internationally. Rubio acknowledged that the timing of the war was heavily influenced by Netanyahu’s government and that it was fundamentally Israel’s war, with the United States joining its closest Middle Eastern ally.

Some senior military officials went even further, framing the conflict in religious terms as “part of God’s plan for the return of Christ.” The doctrine of Armageddon, which views the Middle East as the stage for a final battle between good and evil, holds deep influence within the current Trump administration and forms a cornerstone of Christian Zionist nationalism in the United States.

These remarks sparked intense backlash across American politics, including from within both major parties. The MAGA movement, Trump’s core electoral base, was among the first to criticize the narrative, arguing that it represented a clear departure from the “America First” doctrine that had propelled Trump to victory in two presidential elections.

Invoking the language of religious war also appeared jarring in a political system whose constitution rejects theological doctrines as the basis for public life let alone for guiding foreign policy decisions of such magnitude. Criticism soon followed from the World Council of Churches, several Catholic institutions, and both American and Arab religious leaders, who rejected attempts to frame the conflict in religious terms and described it as an “evil war” that threatens the stability of the region.

Consequently, the narrative of exhausted diplomacy and failed negotiations quickly gave way to more controversial and openly ideological justifications narratives that are likely to face serious challenges both internationally and within the United States in the near future.

Estimates of the potential patterns of confrontation between Iran and the United States preceded the outbreak of the war itself. Military exercises conducted by both sides, escalating rhetoric, and gradually increasing military deployments had already revealed the contours of the confrontation each party was preparing for, as well as the tools they intended to employ in managing the conflict.

From the American perspective, hard military power and the vast gap in capabilities between the U.S. military, the most powerful in the world, and its adversaries formed the cornerstone of the offensive strategy. This advantage was reinforced by the direct participation of the Israeli military, which possesses extensive operational experience in the Middle East, alongside what has been described as a tight intelligence and military grip on the structure of the Iranian system and its capabilities.

On this basis, the United States assembled what is considered the largest military buildup in the region since the 2003 Iraq War, relying on the logic of overwhelming superiority to subdue the adversary and quickly break its will.

Iran, for its part, had been observing this buildup from its earliest stages and had spent years preparing for the scenario of confrontation that had long been threatened against it. Drawing lessons from the previous Twelve-Day War, Tehran took more serious steps in preparing itself for a large-scale conflict, setting a strategic ceiling based on managing its military and political resources with maximum efficiency in order to raise the cost of any attack to the highest possible level.

Based on the Iranian assessment that any major attack would not be merely a limited strike but an attempt at its core to eliminate or undermine the ruling system, Tehran approached the confrontation from its very first moments as an existential war one that could neither be contained nor absorbed politically. Instead, it must be fought through a strategy aimed at prolonging the conflict and raising its costs to levels difficult for adversaries to sustain.

Securing Command and Control

One of the most important lessons Iran drew from the previous Twelve-Day War was that a potential U.S.–Israeli strike would not be limited to nuclear facilities or military infrastructure. Rather, it would focus primarily on the command-and-control system of Iran’s military and security establishment.

The opening strike in that confrontation demonstrated that targeting the decision-making center could create operational confusion even if the core military capabilities remained intact.

Although Tehran was able at the time to contain this confusion quickly within the framework of a limited confrontation, the experience revealed shortcomings in the mechanisms for transferring leadership and distributing responsibilities should senior commanders come under attack. It also exposed vulnerabilities in the security and communication procedures between different leadership levels.

In light of this experience, Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ali Khamenei, worked during the period preceding the current war to reorganize the political and military leadership structure of the system. New arrangements were put in place to ensure the continuity of the decision-making apparatus even in the event of large-scale assassination operations targeting senior officials including the head of the system himself.

According to reports published by international platforms, clear mechanisms were established for the transfer of authority and the distribution of responsibilities within the leadership hierarchy to prevent any vacuum in strategic decision-making positions.

Field indicators suggest that these measures did not stop at the political level but also extended to operational military structures. Detailed contingency plans were prepared to allow a rapid transition from a state of anticipation to a state of war, with pre-designated alternative leadership and the opening of backup communication channels to ensure that the link between the command center and operational units remained intact even under targeted attacks or assassinations.

Nevertheless, the opening strike of the current war revealed the limited effectiveness of some of these security measures, as Israel succeeded in carrying out a series of assassinations targeting a number of influential Iranian military and political leaders.

The Israeli military announced the killing of seven senior Iranian military commanders in what it described as a “surprise attack” targeting two locations in Tehran where the leaders had been meeting. The strike reportedly included the commander of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, the defense minister, and Ali Shamkhani, the security adviser to Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei.

In the same context, CBS News cited intelligence and military sources saying that joint U.S.–Israeli strikes resulted in the killing of approximately forty Iranian officials in one of the largest blows to the leadership structure of the Iranian system since the establishment of the Islamic Republic. The apparent aim was to create a leadership shock that would disrupt the decision-making apparatus in the early hours of the war.

Yet the speed of the Iranian response beginning only about an hour after the initial strike reflected the regime’s ability to activate previously prepared contingency plans. A clear cohesion emerged between the political and military levels, reflected in successive statements issued by the head of the Supreme National Security Council and the foreign minister, alongside announcements from the Revolutionary Guard and the Iranian army.

This offered an early indication that the command-and-control system remained capable of managing the confrontation.

In the days that followed, patterns of military operations revealed a notable degree of organizational coherence compared with the Twelve-Day War experience both in the rapid transfer of leadership to alternative operational plans and in the regular pace of military strikes.

Some estimates suggest that the Revolutionary Guard managed the confrontation through a distributed networked system, whereby engagement parameters and operational plans were spread across multiple units operating horizontally, while daily operational communication between them was reduced to minimize the risks of infiltration or tracking.

Under this model, direct communication lines are activated only when absolutely necessary, ensuring that operational momentum can continue even if some command centers are targeted or disabled.

The Regionalization of the War

In the days preceding the outbreak of the war, Iranian leaders made it clear that any attack on Iran—regardless of its scale—would not remain confined within its borders but would instead open the door to a broad regional confrontation.

This warning came alongside negotiation rounds conducted with effective Omani mediation. In February, Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei stated that any upcoming confrontation would be a “regional war.”

Under the Iranian definition, this concept means not confining combat within Iranian territory and its immediate surroundings, but rather transferring the confrontation to multiple arenas across the region, pushing the entire Middle East into a state of escalation that would be difficult for the relevant actors whether states or economic entities reliant on regional stability to contain.

Expanding the conflict into a regional confrontation marks a clear Iranian declaration of departure from the strategy of strategic patience and containment that had governed Iranian behavior and that of its allies in the region for decades.

This shift comes even amid the escalation that has gripped the region since Operation Al-Aqsa Flood and the subsequent series of Israeli military operations that began with the war in Gaza and later expanded across the region as part of Israel’s effort to settle the conflict with its regional adversaries chief among them the forces of the “Axis of Resistance,” Iran’s principal allies.

The concept of regional war goes beyond direct military confrontation. It includes the possibility of activating unconventional pressure tools within regional states themselves, including forms of hybrid warfare and the undermining of political and economic stability.

Such dynamics raise risk levels beyond the impact of direct Iranian missile strikes, threatening the broader balance of stability across the Middle East.

In this context, Iran appears to view these risks as a strategic pressure card against the United States. Shortly after launching its response to the initial strike, Tehran carried out a series of attacks targeting Israel as well as locations within regional states, particularly Gulf Cooperation Council countries.

The aim appears to be to create additional pressure on Washington through its regional allies who themselves will seek to avoid having their territories transformed into open battlefields while the United States continues to wage a war far from its own territory.

Targeting Bases and Interests

Operating on the premise that if it cannot strike the United States within its own borders it must strike it within the Middle East, Iran structured its target bank around American military bases and interests across the region from the first day of the war.

As expected, Iran quickly targeted U.S. military sites in the Gulf. The Revolutionary Guard announced strikes against American bases in Qatar and the United Arab Emirates, alongside military and security sites inside Israel. It also confirmed targeting the headquarters of the U.S. Fifth Fleet in Bahrain using missiles and drones.

In the days that followed, the pattern of Iranian targeting expanded significantly. It was no longer limited to military bases but extended to the network of American interests tied to Washington’s economic and strategic presence in the region, including economic facilities and critical infrastructure.

The strategy aims to increase the cost of war across the wide network of American interests in the Middle East—especially in the Gulf—by disrupting their ability to operate normally and raising the price of regional alignment behind the U.S. military campaign.

The targeting did not stop there. It also extended to the energy sector, one of the most important pillars of the regional and global economy. According to the rule Iran seeks to impose in this confrontation, what becomes disrupted within Iran can also be disrupted across the Middle East.

Any disruption to Iran’s energy market could therefore reverberate through the regional energy market—which in turn constitutes the primary supplier of the global energy market—raising the prospect of a global economic crisis.

So far, the war has contributed to reduced oil production in Iraq, halted Qatari gas supplies, and caused disruptions in Saudi Arabia as well as in Israel and the Kurdistan Region, where energy extraction operations have been partially or completely halted in some locations.

Gulf sources suggest that Tehran’s targeting of oil-rich Gulf states is helping transform the battle from a regional confrontation into a global crisis threatening international oil flows—not merely regional security.

Economies such as Saudi Arabia, Qatar, and the United Arab Emirates depend heavily on the stability of airspace and maritime shipping lanes. Any large-scale escalation therefore threatens the foundations of economic growth in these states.

Managing the Pace of the Conflict and Operational Tactics

In order to achieve the best possible military results, Iran has organized both its defensive and offensive military conduct through a set of steps that allow it to move from being the recipient of an attack to controlling part of the war’s trajectory and tempo.

This approach has manifested in several operational tactics that have become defining features of its management of the confrontation.

Radar Blinding

The Revolutionary Guard focused its initial strikes on long-range radar systems in several regional countries including Qatar, Bahrain, the United Arab Emirates, Kuwait, and Iraq in an attempt to weaken the early-warning systems relied upon by American and allied air defenses.

Iranian defense sources announced the destruction of a radar belonging to the THAAD system in the Ruwais area of the UAE after it was struck by a precision missile launched by the Guard’s Aerospace Force.

Tehran also announced the targeting of a U.S. FP-132 radar in Qatar, a long-range system designed to detect ballistic missiles.

These radars are a key component of the early-warning network that enables air defense systems to detect missiles and aerial threats in the early stages of flight. Targeting them therefore aims to reduce the ability of air defenses to detect threats in time and shorten their response window, increasing the likelihood that missiles will penetrate targeted airspace.

Escalating Risks for Aircraft Carriers

Aircraft carriers represent one of the most important tools of American power in any confrontation with Iran. The United States operates more than a dozen naval assets in the region, including the aircraft carrier USS Abraham Lincoln in the Sea of Oman and the USS Gerald R. Ford in the Mediterranean.

Before the war, Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei hinted at the possibility of targeting these carriers, noting that the most dangerous weapon against them is one capable of sinking them.

Although sinking a U.S. aircraft carrier remains extremely rare in military history, even the threat itself represents a highly sensitive scenario for the U.S. military.

Damaging a carrier—even without sinking it—could represent a major military and psychological blow, as well as a significant propaganda victory for Iran.

In this context, the Revolutionary Guard announced that it had targeted the Lincoln carrier with four cruise missiles, claiming the vessel was forced to move away from its operational position. The United States said the missiles had failed to approach the carrier.

Despite the conflicting accounts, merely revealing the carrier’s location and attempting to target it represents a significant escalation in the level of risk facing American naval assets in the region.

Raising the Cost of War for the United States

Iran is also betting on increasing the economic and military cost of the war for the United States.

Media reports indicate that Washington spent approximately $779 million during the first twenty-four hours of its attack on Iran.

The Wall Street Journal also revealed that the American military buildup preceding the war—including the deployment of warships and aircraft in the region cost around $630 million.

According to the Center for a New American Security, operating a carrier strike group such as the USS Gerald R. Ford costs approximately $6.5 million per day.

Estimates suggest that a prolonged conflict lasting weeks could drain American weapons stockpiles, particularly given the high cost of missiles used in operations.

A Tomahawk missile costs more than $1 million, a Patriot interceptor about $4 million, and a THAAD interceptor roughly $13 million.

Within this framework, Iran has sought to expand the geographic scope of its missile strikes from the Gulf to Palestinian territories and Cyprus creating a wide theater for exhausting U.S. and allied air defense systems.

Managing Firepower Resources

Iran manages its military resources according to the principle of prolonging the fight and making optimal use of available firepower. Its offensive strength is concentrated primarily in ballistic missiles and drones.

Unlike the Twelve-Day War, Iran appears to be avoiding heavy use of its medium-range missiles such as Shahab-3, Emad, Ghadr, and Sejjil.

Instead, it is relying more heavily on short-range missiles with ranges between 150 and 800 kilometers, including the Fateh family, Zolfaghar, and Qiam missiles.

These missiles can be launched in successive salvos that reduce early-warning time for the adversary, making interception more difficult.

Field data indicate that most attacks targeting the Gulf and Erbil during Operation True Promise 4 relied primarily on the short-range Fateh-110 missile, a weapon Iran possesses in large quantities allowing it to sustain attacks for extended periods.

Gradual Involvement of Allies

Iran’s allied forces across the region—grouped under the Axis of Resistance—had previously signaled their readiness to engage in any confrontation involving Tehran. Yet their participation has unfolded gradually and in line with the rhythm of Iranian operations.

Iraqi factions launched the first attacks by targeting U.S. military sites in Iraq and Erbil.

Lebanon’s Hezbollah joined the confrontation after the announcement of the assassination of Iran’s supreme leader, beginning with limited rocket salvos before gradually escalating.

Meanwhile, the delayed involvement of Yemen’s Ansar Allah (the Houthis), despite their declared readiness to intervene, suggests that their participation may be tied to operational timing coordinated with the Iranian Revolutionary Guard.

The entry of Iran’s allies expands the scope of attrition against American and Israeli defensive capabilities, disperses military and intelligence efforts, and reduces pressure on Iran’s own arsenal.

Conclusion

The patterns of engagement adopted by Iran in this war reveal that its objective is not to achieve a conventional military victory. Rather, Tehran seeks to reshape the cost equation of the conflict.

Instead of directly confronting U.S. and Israeli military superiority, Iran aims to expand the arenas of attrition and complicate the theater of operations transforming the war from a concentrated strike into a multi-level regional crisis.

While the United States and Israel are searching for a clearly defined “victory,” Iran appears focused on achieving a tangible failure of the war’s objectives—particularly preserving the structure of the regime and avoiding major concessions that would undermine the core strategic doctrine that has guided the Islamic Republic for decades.

In that sense, the war may ultimately become less a race to deliver a decisive blow than a test of which side can better endure the costs of continuing the conflict.

The first voice Iranians heard after the official announcement of the assassination of several Iranian leaders in the joint U.S.-Israeli strike foremost among them Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei was that of Ali Larijani, secretary of Iran’s Supreme National Security Council.

Appearing on state television in a televised address, he vowed that the United States and Israel would face “a lesson they will never forget,” at a moment when Tehran seemed to be confronting the gravest test to the continuity of its system in decades.

The appearance amounted to an implicit declaration that the center of gravity within Iran’s decision-making structure had shifted. As the leadership pyramid trembled, Larijani emerged as the most visible and influential figure on the Iranian stage drawing on a long career that combines philosophical training, executive experience, parliamentary leadership, and stewardship of complex security and strategic portfolios.

Days before the assassination, The New York Times reported, citing six informed sources, that Khamenei had entrusted Larijani with the task of “protecting the Islamic Republic” in the event of harm befalling him. The move was part of contingency planning to confront a potential “decapitation” scenario, ensuring the continuity of the leadership chain and the cohesion of state institutions.

According to the report, Larijani’s mandate extended beyond administering power under exceptional circumstances. It included safeguarding what Tehran considers the “achievements of the revolution” since 1979 and coordinating with strategic allies to prevent the system from sliding into existential disarray.

Yet Larijani cannot be described as a conventional hardliner from the ranks of the Revolutionary Guard’s political class. He is better understood as a pragmatic conservative, adept at operating within the system’s architecture without being captive to confrontational rhetoric.

He presents more as a statesman than as an aggressive military commander positioning him as a plausible steward of a delicate transitional phase, blending firmness in protecting the regime with flexibility in keeping political horizons open to de-escalation or strategic repositioning.

An Early Presence in the Revolutionary Climate

Ali Ardeshir Larijani was born on June 3, 1958, in the Iraqi city of Najaf, to a prominent clerical family originally from Larijan in Iran’s Mazandaran province. His father, Ayatollah Mirza Hashem Amoli, was a well-known seminary scholar. Under pressure exerted by the regime of Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi on clerics, the family left the holy city of Qom and briefly settled in Najaf.

The family lived in Iraq until 1961, before returning to Iran while Larijani was still young, amid a volatile regional and political climate. He completed his schooling in Qom and, in 1975, enrolled at Aryamehr University of Technology now Sharif University of Technology where he studied computer science.

He later moved to University of Tehran to pursue graduate studies in Western philosophy, earning a doctorate and eventually joining its faculty.

Larijani developed an early interest in philosophy and political thought, profoundly influenced by Immanuel Kant. This influence is evident in his writings on topics such as mathematics in Kant’s philosophy, metaphysics and the exact sciences, and synthetic propositions, alongside other works on statecraft and political thought.

He has also authored more than fifteen scholarly articles. This intellectual grounding later shaped his management style in sensitive portfolios most notably the nuclear file where he has displayed a preference for methodical approaches and precise calculations.

Though relatively removed from direct political activism during his student years, Larijani’s familial ties to the revolution deepened in 1977 when he married Farideh Motahhari, daughter of the influential cleric and thinker Morteza Motahhari, one of the leading theoreticians of the Iranian Revolution and a close associate of Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini. The couple has four children: Sara, Fatemeh, Morteza, and Mohammad.

The Larijani family occupies a prominent position within Iran’s political and religious establishment. His brother Sadeq Larijani previously headed the judiciary; Mohammad Javad Larijani serves as secretary-general of the Human Rights Committee; Bagher Larijani has held senior academic roles in the medical field; and Fazel Larijani worked in the Foreign Ministry.

The family is also linked by marriage to influential political figures, including MP Ahmad Tavakoli. This network has anchored Ali Larijani firmly within the institutional power structure of the Islamic Republic, reinforcing his standing through an extended religious and political legacy and a long record in civilian and security posts.

In January of last year, the family name resurfaced internationally when one of his daughters was dismissed from a medical faculty position at Emory University following protests by Iranian American activists criticizing her father’s role in addressing protests inside Iran. The episode underscored how the family’s profile has become entangled in transnational debates over the regime’s image and policies.

A Consistent Official Presence Across Eras

After the revolution’s victory, Larijani joined the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps in 1982, at a time when the Islamic Republic was reshaping its security and military architecture. Following the end of the Iran-Iraq War, he rose to the rank of brigadier general and served as deputy chief of the IRGC’s Joint Staff until 1992, securing a senior position within the military establishment during a period of recalibrating power centers.

He later moved through a series of executive and administrative posts, transitioning from the Ministry of the Revolutionary Guard into broader state institutions before entering the official media sphere. Under President Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani, he was appointed minister of culture and Islamic guidance, succeeding Mohammad Khatami.

Soon after, Supreme Leader Khamenei appointed him head of the Islamic Republic of Iran Broadcasting (IRIB), the country’s powerful state media conglomerate.

He remained in that position until 2004, becoming one of the longest-serving heads of the organization, during a period marked by recalibrating official discourse and expanding domestic influence.

In August 2005, he was appointed secretary of the Supreme National Security Council, the body coordinating between political and military institutions on strategic matters. His tenure was short-lived, however. He resigned in October 2007 amid disagreements with then-President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad over management of the nuclear file an early sign of internal divergences over negotiation strategies and approaches to confrontation.

In 2008, Larijani entered parliament representing Qom and, in June of that year, was elected speaker of the Islamic Consultative Assembly, a position he held until March 2019 after winning two additional terms making him the longest-serving speaker in the parliament’s history. During that period, his brother Sadeq was serving as judiciary chief, an unprecedented reflection of the family’s institutional influence.

As speaker, Larijani projected a firm institutional persona. He challenged the Ahmadinejad government, summoned ministers for questioning, and presided over the first-ever parliamentary interrogation of a president in the Islamic Republic. He was outspoken in criticizing budgetary and foreign policy irregularities.

Under President Hassan Rouhani, Larijani publicly supported the nuclear agreement known as the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA). He oversaw its parliamentary debate and managed the October 2015 vote in a swift and direct manner a move widely interpreted as an effort to prevent the deal from devolving into an arena of internal conflict.

The decision cost him support among segments of the conservative camp, yet he retained his position and continued advocating for a more assertive parliamentary role in foreign policy, seeking to give the legislature a voice in strategic matters traditionally monopolized by senior security circles.

Before his parliamentary tenure, he had already led nuclear negotiations with the P5+1 during his first term at the Supreme National Security Council (2005–2007), after the file moved from the International Atomic Energy Agency to the UN Security Council.

His approach emphasized internal consensus-building, privileging diplomacy, and framing Iran’s nuclear energy program in strategic terms. He held extended talks with EU coordinator Javier Solana and helped craft technical responses to IAEA inquiries. No agreement was reached during his tenure, and the file later passed to a new team led by Saeed Jalili.

Even after his resignation, Larijani remained a member of the Supreme National Security Council as the Supreme Leader’s representative, and later by virtue of his role as parliament speaker ensuring his continued presence at the core of strategic decision-making.

Adviser to the Supreme Leader and a Disqualified Presidential Contender

After leaving the speakership in 2020, Larijani was appointed adviser to Supreme Leader Khamenei and became a member of the Expediency Discernment Council, a body that arbitrates between state institutions and serves as a key node in strategic policymaking.

Yet his institutional stature did not translate into electoral opportunity. He sought to run in the 2021 presidential election, but the Guardian Council disqualified him without publicly providing reasons a decision that sparked wide debate over the boundaries of political competition within the system and whether his exclusion reflected factional balances more than legal considerations.

His name resurfaced prominently in June 2024, when he registered for the early presidential election announced after President Ebrahim Raisi died in a helicopter crash in East Azerbaijan province. The Guardian Council again barred him from the candidate list, in a move Larijani described as “non-transparent,” deepening the impression that he faces a political veto within certain power circles.

Nevertheless, he did not disappear from the scene. He intensified his involvement in sensitive foreign and security files, delivering a message from the Supreme Leader to Russian President Vladimir Putin during a visit to Moscow, and appearing on official television during the escalation with Israel in the summer of 2025 signals that his role extended beyond formal advisory boundaries.

Reports also suggested he made an undeclared visit to Syria ahead of the military operations that culminated in the fall of President Bashar al-Assad, allegedly carrying a direct message from Khamenei. These moves, alongside the election of President Masoud Pezeshkian in the summer of 2024, revived speculation that Larijani could assume a senior executive or security post.

Safety Valve and De Facto Ruler in the Most Perilous Phase

As confrontation between Tehran and Tel Aviv intensified peaking in the 12-day war in June Larijani reemerged as the figure summoned in moments of acute crisis. On August 5, he was reappointed secretary of the Supreme National Security Council, in a move widely read as part of a broader reconfiguration of the decision-making hierarchy at what many describe as the most dangerous juncture since the republic’s founding.

By early 2025, amid escalating U.S. threats and mounting military tensions with Israel, Iran had entered what could be termed an “existential risk” phase. Khamenei turned to Larijani, whose presence appears integral to broader contingency arrangements to ensure regime continuity in the event of harm to the Supreme Leader or a slide into all-out confrontation.

According to reports in The New York Times and Le Figaro, Larijani is now viewed as Iran’s “de facto ruler” a characterization reinforced by indications that sensitive domestic and foreign decisions increasingly pass through him. Some assessments suggest that even President Masoud Pezeshkian has been compelled to coordinate with him on indirect communication channels with Washington, signaling a shift in the center of gravity from the presidency to the Supreme National Security Council.

In a more sensitive development, reports pointed to Larijani’s pivotal role in thwarting a political initiative led by former President Hassan Rouhani and his former foreign minister Mohammad Javad Zarif in January 2026, aimed at restructuring decision-making mechanisms to shield the country from war.

According to those accounts, Larijani contained the effort and imposed measures that curtailed its effectiveness, bolstering his image as the final guardian of systemic cohesion in its most turbulent days.

Today, within Iran, Larijani is cast as the “strategic savior” striving to preserve the state amid a U.S.-Israeli storm aimed at regime change in Tehran. This wager rests on the centrality of his institutional position, his extended ties to Moscow and Beijing, and his efforts to keep mediation channels open via Muscat and Doha in search of a ceasefire formula that would spare the country collapse while preserving regime cohesion.

Concurrently, he is expected to play a pivotal role within the Assembly of Experts in selecting a new Supreme Leader ensuring a delicate balance between the influence of the Revolutionary Guard and the religious seminary establishment. Some analyses even suggest the possibility of advancing a more symbolic Supreme Leader, enabling a more technocratic security-executive management structure amid a highly sensitive domestic equation and mounting popular challenges.

In this unfolding tableau, Larijani represents the nexus among the institutions that guarantee regime cohesion the bridge between military and clerical establishments, between domestic and foreign arenas, between the logic of steadfastness and that of strategic repositioning.

In a moment of vacuum, he has transformed from an influential power broker behind the scenes into the primary actor holding the reins of the transitional phase, pending the emergence of a new formula for authority.

On the morning of February 28, 2026, “Israel” launched a surprise strike deep inside Iranian territory, describing the attack as “preemptive,” aimed at eliminating threats surrounding the state. The U.S. administration responded by saying the strike came in reaction to intelligence indicating Iran’s intention to carry out an offensive action against the United States and “Israel.”

Within hours, global media outlets were reporting on the attack, echoing the Israeli defense minister’s characterization and oscillating between describing it as “preemptive” or “preventive,” while pointing to Iran’s nuclear and missile programs as supporting evidence for that narrative.

In reality, this was far from the first time “Israel” has framed its assaults on states and individuals as either “preemptive” or “preventive.” The roots of this terminology stretch back decades, when its wars were largely confined to confrontations with Arab states and when international law and global norms of justice still carried considerable moral weight.

Over the past two years, however, such rhetoric has intensified, fueled by mounting Israeli attacks across the Middle East and by its manipulation of international law through elastic military language language that other powers have likewise adopted.

Vladimir Putin invoked similar logic in Russia’s war on Ukraine, and the United States did so in both its threats toward Canada, Cuba, and Greenland and during the 2003 invasion of Iraq, when George W. Bush described the war as America’s “right to act preemptively against threats before they are fully formed.”

The following lines seek to unpack Israel’s wartime lexicon its historical and contemporary manifestations and to situate it within the framework of international law, particularly in light of its latest assault and the questions of accountability it raises.

A History of Justified Aggression

Amid escalating hostility between “Israel” and Arab states, and nearly two decades after the Nakba, Israel’s military establishment found itself in a position to initiate war armed with extensive intelligence regarding Arab capabilities and the nature of inter-Arab political and military ties.

In 1967, “Israel” launched what it would later describe as its first preemptive war. Then–Prime Minister Levi Eshkol publicly warned Arab states that his government would respond forcefully to sources of “terrorism” and that the Israeli army would march toward Damascus. Shortly thereafter, some 13 brigades were mobilized along the Syrian border.

This culminated in a surprise Israeli air assault, meticulously planned and rehearsed, which quickly altered the course of the fighting. Notably, throughout the six days of war, “Israel” insisted that Egypt had initiated hostilities. Only after consolidating control did it acknowledge that the war had been a “preventive strike” against a potential Arab invasion while simultaneously refusing to bear the consequences of the war or withdraw from the territories it occupied.

Nearly two decades later, on June 7, 1981, “Israel” carried out “Operation Opera,” a surprise air raid conducted by eight F-16 fighter jets that destroyed Iraq’s Osirak nuclear reactor near Baghdad. The operation was justified as a preemptive move to prevent Saddam Hussein from acquiring nuclear weapons.

The same argument preempting the acquisition of nuclear arms was invoked again in Syria. On the night of September 6, 2007, Israeli warplanes bombed the al-Kibar facility in Deir ez-Zor, reportedly intended as a joint Syrian–North Korean–Iranian nuclear energy project.

According to later disclosures, the Mossad had tracked a North Korean scientist and infiltrated his personal computer, obtaining engineering blueprints for the site. The airstrike leveled the building with more than 17 tons of explosives, reportedly killing ten Korean and Syrian scientists.

Although “Israel” did not initially claim responsibility, it acknowledged the operation in 2018, asserting that the strike reflected the so-called Begin Doctrine, under which Israel reserves the right to prevent hostile states from acquiring nuclear capabilities.

The pairing of preemptive rhetoric with overt military aggression has recurred in Israel’s wars on Gaza, in attacks against Iran’s nuclear program between 2010 and 2021 ranging from cyber operations that caused explosions and casualties to coordinated assassinations of nuclear scientists reportedly aided by artificial intelligence.

The pattern extended to the August 2024 strikes on Lebanon and culminated in the June 2025 assault on Iran, when the term once again dominated headlines. Israel justified the war as an effort to forestall Iran’s attainment of a nuclear bomb by crippling its entire nuclear infrastructure through assassinations and targeted explosions.

Attack First, Justify Later

According to Stacie Goddard, professor of political science at Wellesley College, Israeli leaders routinely describe their strikes as preemptive, though they often resemble preventive wars more closely. In political science, the former refers to offensive action designed to thwart or mitigate the damage of an imminent enemy attack.

By this definition, preemptive strikes must be wholly defensive in nature, predicated on a threat that is immediate and substantiated by concrete evidence. The danger cannot be speculative or based on conjecture. Preventive war, by contrast, rests on the principle that fighting now is preferable to fighting later.

This distinction grants military leaders greater latitude in choosing the time, place, and method of attack latitude not afforded under genuine preemption, which is intended to blunt an impending assault.

The concept of imminence in self-defense law remains contested. Classical interpretations, rooted in the 1837 Caroline incident, require that necessity be “instant, overwhelming, leaving no choice of means, and no moment for deliberation.”

Tamir Moustafa similarly underscores the importance of distinguishing between preemptive and preventive war. International law largely accommodates preemptive self-defense under Article 51 of the UN Charter, provided that claims are immediate and fact-based.

Article 51 recognizes the inherent right of states to use force in self-defense if an armed attack occurs, pending Security Council intervention. Yet this right is not absolute; it must be exercised with necessity and proportionality. While a state need not wait to absorb the first blow, there must be credible confirmation that an attack is imminent.

Under customary international law, anticipatory self-defense may fall within Article 51’s scope, provided that imminent threats are clearly established.

With regard to the Israeli military, Moustafa argues that armies may resort to either preemptive or preventive wars depending on circumstances. Preventive wars, however, allow them to balance costs and benefits, secure offensive advantage, and accrue greater autonomy, material resources, and prestige than in defensive postures.

This dynamic may apply to the Israeli army, whose organizational culture arguably inclines it toward offensive action as part of its institutional identity and historical practice.

Despite this culture, Devang Kala, a legal scholar at the Jindal Forum for International and Economic Laws, considers the Israeli operations dubbed “Roar of the Lion” and “Rising Lion” unlawful under the UN Charter. In her assessment, they constitute unilateral and unjustified uses of force.

There is no evidence, she argues, that Iran used force or launched an armed attack against “Israel.” Moreover, the current strikes fail the necessity test, particularly as negotiations between Iran and the United States—mediated by Oman—were underway to revive a nuclear agreement. It is therefore implausible to frame the strikes as Israel’s last available option to avert a potential nuclear threat.

Conversely, Michael Schmitt, professor of international law at the University of Reading, contends that the persistent hostilities between “Israel” and Iran since June 2025 alter the legal calculus. Once war has broken out, he argues, self-defense may entail dismantling the adversary’s military capacity entirely to eliminate the threat. Waiting to suffer the first blow would be neither reasonable nor effective.

Schmitt cites the legal reasoning of Yoram Dinstein, former president of Tel Aviv University, who maintains that a justifiable attack requires demonstrated hostile intent, capability, and a closing “last window of opportunity” a phrase frequently invoked by Netanyahu. In such circumstances, military action may be preventive rather than preemptive, even absent a UN Security Council resolution under Chapter VII.

Israel’s Security Lexicon

Schmitt’s reasoning—and that of Dinstein—resonates with Israel’s longstanding reliance on assessments of intent and projection. Its justifications for operations in Gaza, the West Bank, southern Lebanon, southern Syria, Iraq’s interior, deep inside Iran, and even Yemen frequently invoke terms such as “mowing the grass,” “pruning terror,” and “preempting threats.”

Alongside its security vocabulary, Israel has developed a suite of concepts designed to manage what it perceives as future risks, calibrating the use of force below the threshold of genocide, aggression, or full-scale war. Before October 7, it was “mowing the grass” in Gaza; today, critics argue, it is uprooting both the grass and the soil beneath it.

Before the Syrian uprising, strikes were justified as efforts to halt qualitative military transformations supply lines, reinforcements, advanced weaponry. Today, attacks in southern Syria are framed as preventing the emergence of military or social infrastructures that could evolve into future adversaries, under the rubric of “preventing entrenchment” a form of long-term strategic prevention.

Across the Arab world, the doctrine of “cumulative deterrence” applies: calibrated economic, political, and social blows that gradually instill fear and enable military latitude without triggering comprehensive war.

There is also “escalation management” in Jerusalem during Ramadan; “below-threshold response” for precise cyberattacks short of war; “dismantling infrastructure” when targeting specific organizations; and “reengineering the security environment” when military action is coupled with land clearance, checkpoints, buffer zones, and shifting red and green lines.

Each phrase is accompanied by mobilized reserves, forward-deployed forces, a threatening discourse, and an eroding international legal order all in pursuit of a perceived security that “Israel” seeks to manufacture in a region that continues to reject and confront it.

The global Zionist movement and its influential lobbying networks across the world could hardly have imagined that just 140 minutes would be enough to undermine a narrative meticulously constructed over decades.

That narrative initiated by the Israeli occupying state and amplified by pro-Israel pressure groups in the West met an unexpected moment of deconstruction from within its own camp.

The dismantling came at the hands of one of the most prominent figures of the evangelical pro-Israel current in the United States: the US ambassador to Tel Aviv, Mike Huckabee.

The reverberations of the interview conducted by the well-known American media personality Tucker Carlson with Huckabee broadcast on Friday, February 20 continue to cast a shadow over both Arab and international arenas. The conversation featured blunt and direct remarks concerning the alleged “historical right,” the boundaries of the Israeli project, and the rhetoric of “peace” and respect for state sovereignty.

Observers have described the encounter as one of the most consequential media and political moments of the past two decades. At its core, it marked a pivotal round in the battle over narrative and public consciousness surrounding Israel and its broader project. In a matter of minutes, the dialogue succeeded in unraveling the foundations of Israel’s “state project” and indeed the Zionist idea in its broader ideological structure.

Attempts by some quarters to contain the fallout portraying the remarks as merely “personal views” expressed by Huckabee as a Christian Zionist figure known for his unwavering support for Israel are difficult to separate from his official position as US ambassador to Israel.

Huckabee was not speaking in a purely doctrinal or pastoral capacity, but from his political office as Washington’s direct diplomatic representative in Tel Aviv. That fact imbued the interview and its implicit messages with heightened weight and exceptional resonance. It invites interpretation not as isolated opinion, but as a possible indicator of currents within influential American circles.

An Important Context: Why Was the Interview Conducted?

Before interviewing Huckabee, Carlson had held a series of conversations with two Christian figures from the Middle East as part of an effort to assess the condition of Christian communities in the region. This trajectory was consistent with his media profile and his identity as a devout Christian who has publicly expressed concern for Christians worldwide.

The first meeting took place in Amman with Saad Al-Mu’asher, chairman of the board of the Jordan National Bank, focusing on the stability and prosperity of Christian life in Jordan as a Muslim-majority country. The second interview was with Archbishop Hosam Naoum of Jerusalem, centering on Israel’s treatment of Christians in the occupied territories, including references to Israeli violations affecting Christians and their holy sites, particularly in Jerusalem.

According to accounts circulating behind the scenes, this path reportedly irritated Huckabee, who requested a direct interview to “present the counter-narrative” regarding Christians in the occupied territories.

Carlson seized the opportunity and began preparations for what appears, in hindsight, to have turned against its initiator transforming from a corrective platform into a controversial stage that the US ambassador may long regret.

Why It Matters

The significance of the interview stems from three main dimensions.

The first concerns the two figures themselves. Carlson stands as one of the most prominent faces of the Christian right in the United States, commanding a substantial following, particularly among conservative youth. Within that milieu, he is viewed as an influential voice capable of shaping opinion and reframing sensitive debates within the conservative Christian base.

Opposite him stands Huckabee, one of the most vocal representatives of Christian Zionism in America—a current rooted in theological interpretations that regard Israel as the “Promised Land” and draw upon religious notions of divine election and a “chosen people.” Given his political and diplomatic role, he is not merely a sympathetic advocate of this current but one of its most visible public representatives, reflecting its priorities and wagers within the American political scene.

The second dimension relates to the target audience. The interview was not directed at a casual viewership but at the Christian base in the United States and beyond that has long constituted a cornerstone of political and financial support for Israel and a key pillar of domestic lobbying influence. Any tremor within this constituency, or renewed questioning from within, carries amplified political weight.

The third dimension concerns the subject matter itself: the condition of Christians in the occupied territories and Israel’s conduct toward them, alongside broader questions about America’s near-unconditional support for Israel. The sensitivity here lies in the complex intersection of religious belief, political commitment, and strategic calculations in US foreign policy.

Early Circumstances: The Police-State Atmosphere

The circumstances surrounding the interview, in Carlson’s telling, were revealing perhaps even more so than the interview itself. He described the environment as akin to that of a “police state,” governed by a rigid security mindset devoid, in his words, of the customary standards of hospitality toward guests and journalists.

According to Carlson, Israeli authorities and the US embassy declined to provide security protection for him and his team, forcing them to assume responsibility for their own safety. The interview, initially scheduled at the US embassy, was moved to the diplomatic lounge at Ben Gurion Airport a facility Carlson sharply criticized for its poor condition.

He further remarked that Huckabee was surrounded by individuals who appeared more like informal security enforcers than conventional staff.

More controversially, Carlson claimed that the embassy not only failed to provide security cover but that he and his team were subjected to what he described as humiliating inspections after the interview. Three staff members were reportedly detained briefly before being released.

He expressed astonishment that such measures occurred while the US ambassador remained at the airport without intervening.

These events prompted Carlson to raise public questions about diplomatic representation: Does the ambassador act on behalf of American interests or Israel’s? He extended the question further: Does the US government serve its own citizens, or does it serve Tel Aviv?

Carlson also observed that Huckabee appeared cautious and, at moments, unsettled as though constrained by considerations that discouraged any deviation from the Israeli official line. In Carlson’s reading, this caution stemmed not from fear of criticizing American institutions he himself criticized the US military during the interview but from concern about provoking Israeli displeasure. This reinforced the impression of a deep overlap between Huckabee’s diplomatic position and the Israeli government’s agenda.

Breaking the Taboo

The sensitivity of the interview derived from the simplicity of its questions questions that nonetheless touched on existential issues: Israel’s origins, the foundations of its historical and political legitimacy, its vision for the region’s future, and claims of historical and religious ties between contemporary Jews and Palestinian land.

For years, such questions remained taboo in much of Western discourse, often met with sharp criticism or accusations foremost among them anti-Semitism.

Here, the article argues, credit belongs to Gaza. Palestinian resilience in the face of Israel’s devastating war machine has reintroduced Palestinian rights into global consciousness and repositioned the issue at the center of international attention after years of marginalization. Without this shift in global mood, Carlson might not have ventured to pose such questions to Huckabee.

Deconstructing the Zionist Narrative

At its core, the Zionist narrative rests on several ideological and historical pillars: the concept of the “Promised Land” grounded in biblical interpretations extending “from the Nile to the Euphrates,” notions of divine election and a chosen people, and the assertion of an unbroken historical bond between modern Jews and Palestine.

The interview suggested that these pillars are not immune from questioning even within traditionally pro-Israel Western Christian circles. Carlson raised doubts about applying ancient religious texts to contemporary political realities and alluded to historical and theological debates over identity and lineage.

He also highlighted the region’s layered history from Canaanites and Samaritans to Christians and Muslims underscoring the complexity of reducing Palestine’s history to a single narrative conferring exclusive rights.

In a particularly pointed exchange, Carlson referenced the Eastern European origins of Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, questioning how claims of ancestral residence on the land could be substantiated. Huckabee reportedly struggled to respond.

Carlson further challenged the credibility of American rhetoric about peace, especially under the administration of Donald Trump, asking how a state that proclaims peace can entertain talk of annexing territories belonging to other nations some of them US allies.

The legal basis of Israel’s establishment was also scrutinized. Carlson expressed reservations about treating the Balfour Declaration as a binding legal foundation, describing it instead as a political expression issued by a colonial power in a specific historical context—reflecting ongoing academic and political debate over sources of legitimacy.

Finally, the discussion turned to the reality of occupation. Huckabee reportedly acknowledged the existence of an occupation a characterization loaded with political and legal implications. A heated exchange followed regarding the justification of force against children in Gaza.

Huckabee affirmed Israel’s right to such force under certain premises; Carlson categorically rejected it, lending the dialogue a stark moral dimension in which, according to the article, the ambassador faltered.

The Zionist Lobby and the Fallout

Few anticipated that the interview would produce such shockwaves. For the first time, a segment of conservative right-wing discourse long seen as a hospitable environment for pro-Israel narratives posed questions that unsettled Zionist assumptions from within.

The tremor was felt within pro-Israel lobbying structures in the United States. The debate had shifted from external criticism to internal review arguably the most disquieting development of all.

Signs of backlash emerged swiftly. Pro-Israel activist Laura Loomer launched a sharp attack, urging Trump to sever political ties with Carlson and exclude him from the White House orbit. She hinted at movements within Republican circles to frame the episode as evidence of party division ahead of midterm elections.

In sum, the interview stripped away layers of long-packaged narratives and exposed vulnerabilities in elements of Zionist discourse when subjected to direct, logical questioning.

At the same time, it placed Washington in an awkward position before the international community and its Arab and Muslim allies, revealing a gap between its declared rhetoric of peace and sovereignty and statements emerging from its diplomatic representation on the ground.

Despite the fluctuating pace of negotiations, indicators of escalation are mounting in ways that suggest an almost inevitable slide toward war particularly with the deployment of the U.S. aircraft carrier Abraham Lincoln to the Middle East, alongside Iran’s launch of large-scale military exercises in the Strait of Hormuz.

These developments have been accompanied by conflicting statements that keep the door to negotiations technically open from both Washington and Tehran, while simultaneously pairing diplomacy with explicit threats. U.S. President Donald Trump has warned of a “bad day” should no agreement be reached, while Iran’s Supreme Leader has responded that even the world’s most powerful armies could suffer painful blows. Iranian officials have gone further, threatening to send an American aircraft carrier “to the bottom of the sea.”

In reality, the prospects for successful negotiation rounds leading to a deal now appear increasingly remote. A wide gap separates Washington’s high-ceiling demands backed by Israeli pressure seeking a deal that amounts to total submission and Tehran’s limited flexibility, which centers on an agreement involving reasonable concessions that do not compromise Iran’s deterrent capabilities or its future capacity for confrontation. In practical terms, this means excluding the ballistic missile program and regional alliance files from the outset.

Accordingly, attention is shifting toward the form and limits of a potential military confrontation. No party possesses prior control over the pace of escalation once events begin to roll downhill. Any forthcoming clash would not resemble a brief, limited war; rather, available indicators suggest that the United States would lead the strike, with the principal objective being a qualitative change in the structure of the current regime perhaps even its eventual removal in one form or another.

This points to a war designed to be overwhelming and goal-oriented. For Iran’s leadership, that creates a zero-sum equation, compelling it to maximize the cost of confrontation and adopt protective measures aimed at frustrating anticipated U.S. objectives.

From Decisive Strike to War of Attrition

Although President Donald Trump’s administration has leaned toward an isolationist posture favoring the maintenance of dominance at minimal cost and avoiding long, expensive wars it prefers deal-making or coercive transformation under the doctrine of “peace through strength,” which Trump has presented as the organizing principle of his approach to peacemaking.

In this context, the Venezuela model where President Nicolás Maduro was removed in what was described as a swift, “clean” operation that led to a qualitative shift in Caracas’s posture toward U.S. demands has been viewed in the White House as a desirable template should threats alone fail to achieve objectives.

Trump’s national security strategy, which classified Latin America as part of America’s exclusive sphere of influence effectively reviving the Monroe Doctrine in updated form has likewise framed Iran as a persistent strategic threat and the principal source of regional instability.

According to 2025–2026 policy documents, the administration has adopted “peace through strength” as a means of weakening Iran economically and militarily, preventing it from acquiring nuclear weapons, and reinforcing allied security in ways that could eventually allow Washington to reduce its direct military footprint.

Over time, Washington’s position appears to have shifted from seeking a “satisfactory” nuclear agreement toward a greater inclination to alter the regime’s structure itself either through internal change supported by U.S. military intervention enabling a new ally to stage a coup, or through military action backing widespread protests that swept Iranian streets earlier this year. Both paths, however, seemed to recede after Tehran’s containment measures, even as the White House raised expectations expectations fueled by the swift outcome in Venezuela.

The ceiling set by President Trump has now become a constraint on both diplomatic and military tracks. The scene has narrowed to two stark choices: complete diplomatic submission or total military resolution. This binary framing complicates both avenues in the absence of any “magic plan” capable of delivering rapid, decisive results, particularly given Iran’s limited flexibility. It has also opened the door to more gradual, complex operational scenarios.

In that vein, two U.S. officials revealed that the military is preparing for the possibility of sustained operations lasting weeks against Iran should President Trump order an attack—potentially transforming the confrontation into a more dangerous conflict than previously seen between the two countries, according to Reuters.

They added that the Pentagon has dispatched an additional aircraft carrier to the Middle East, along with thousands of troops, fighter jets, guided missile destroyers, and other firepower capable of both offensive and defensive operations.

Officials emphasized that planning this time is more complex. The U.S. military could conduct a sustained campaign targeting Iranian government and security facilities not merely nuclear infrastructure with the expectation of direct Iranian retaliation leading to prolonged exchanges of strikes and reprisals.

Experts caution that U.S. forces would face far greater risks in such an operation against Iran, which possesses a vast missile arsenal. Iranian retaliatory strikes could also heighten the risk of a broader regional conflict.

White House spokesperson Anna Kelly, responding to questions about preparations for a potential long-term operation, stated that “Trump has all options on the table with respect to Iran,” adding that he listens to a range of views before making final decisions based on U.S. national security interests.

Tehran, for its part, has sought to cement the idea that any attack would trigger an immediate “regional war,” placing Israel at the forefront of potential targets alongside U.S. interests and bases in the Middle East.

Statements from Iran’s regional allies particularly in Yemen, Iraq, and Lebanon have aligned with that message, asserting that they would not remain neutral in such a confrontation. This steadily widens the risk of escalation into an open conflict difficult to contain geographically or predict in outcome a protracted war of attrition that could engulf the Middle East.

How Iran Thinks About a Long War

The central hesitation lies in the fact that force in the Iranian case does not automatically produce swift resolution. Speed is the political currency Trump values most. Should confrontation slide into a multi-front war of attrition following an initial U.S.–Israeli strike, Iran’s likely approach would not hinge on achieving direct military superiority, but rather on managing time transforming a rapid shock into a prolonged, high-cost conflict politically and economically for its adversaries.

Iranian researcher Arash Marzbanmehr argues that Tehran has spent decades preparing for a very different kind of conflict not to secure a lightning victory, but to ensure that any war with its adversaries would be long and costly.

Its strategy centers not on regional domination or spectacular triumphs, but on endurance and imposing high costs. Rather than delivering a knockout blow, Iran aims to draw opponents into wars of attrition that drain resources, erode political capital, and exhaust even the strongest armies over time.

This dynamic helps explain continued U.S. hesitation and Trump’s cautious posture. Though a risk-taker by instinct, he is not reckless; he gambles when odds favor swift, tangible returns. Iran presents a different scenario: high risk, limited gains, and a narrow path to decisive closure without the guarantee of a clean victory.

In practical terms, Iran’s response to an initial attack would likely focus first on absorbing the blow during the opening hours. Tehran would seek to establish a psychological deterrence equation before a purely military one, officially declaring that the strike “failed to achieve its objectives,” accompanied by images of intact facilities.

Simultaneously, it might carry out limited, carefully calibrated missile strikes against U.S. bases in the Gulf or Iraq—demonstrating capability without provoking immediate full-scale escalation. The goal would be to prevent the image of a decisive knockout and reintroduce uncertainty.

In subsequent days, Tehran would likely shift to gradual attrition: intermittent waves of missiles and drones, varying launch patterns and locations, relying on a dispersed underground infrastructure.

Iran could also progressively activate its allies: missile pressure from Lebanon, targeting U.S. interests in Iraq, threats to maritime navigation in the Red Sea or Gulf expanding tension incrementally to complicate risk management for Washington and Tel Aviv.

Economically, maritime routes and energy markets would serve as primary attrition tools. Even short of closing the Strait of Hormuz, raising shipping and insurance risks could significantly impact oil prices, transforming a bilateral military clash into a partial global economic crisis.

Politically, Iran’s leadership would frame the conflict as existential, bolstering domestic cohesion. Despite internal dissent, Iranian society retains a strong sense of national identity, and history shows that regimes facing direct external threats often benefit from a “rally around the flag” effect buying time to consolidate the home front.

If hostile strikes diminish, Tehran might seek to stabilize a new deterrence balance. If they intensify, larger fronts—especially Lebanon—could be activated, dramatically raising regional stakes.

Success would hinge on three factors: economic resilience at home, the degree of allied engagement across the Middle East, and the tolerance of public opinion in the United States and Israel for a prolonged multi-front war particularly if Iran succeeds in raising tangible costs.

The Limits of America’s Capacity for Attrition

America’s ability to manage a long, multi-front war of attrition cannot be measured solely by military might. It must account for political endurance, geographic spread, and the cumulative strategic cost over time.

The United States enjoys significant qualitative and technological superiority, enabling it to launch any confrontation with overwhelming force. Yet attrition wars test patience, economies, and alliances as much as firepower.

America’s strategic depth its homeland far from direct bombardment provides decision-makers with operational latitude absent existential pressure. Its network of bases across the Gulf, Eastern Mediterranean, and Europe offers flexibility but also multiple friction points vulnerable to missiles, drones, or indirect operations.

Economically, Washington can finance a long war more easily than its adversaries. Still, modern attrition extends beyond battlefield costs to energy markets, supply chains, and inflation. If regional escalation disrupts shipping or oil facilities, global economic strain could rebound politically on Washington especially absent clear, decisive results.

Domestically, Iraq and Afghanistan demonstrated that Americans may tolerate limited air campaigns but grow wary of open-ended conflicts, particularly if casualties mount. Multi-front engagements Lebanon, Iraq, the Gulf, perhaps the Red Sea would make message management as critical as battlefield management.

Washington would also need coalition backing while avoiding large-scale ground deployments. Yet international political support for a war of this scale remains limited, with notable reservations among several U.S. Middle Eastern allies—Israel excepted—about deep involvement.

Militarily, the United States can sustain long-term air and naval superiority, rely on long-range capabilities to minimize casualties, and leverage intelligence and space assets to track launch networks. But in attrition warfare, the adversary seeks not to defeat the U.S. fleet, but to sustain low-to-medium intensity bleeding accumulating costs and diverting American strategic attention from other theaters such as East Asia and Europe.

Should regional fronts expand, Washington would face a prioritization challenge. Each additional front whether through armed allies or maritime threats would require resource redistribution. Alliances become vital to share burdens, though expansion carries risks of unintended escalation.

In short, the United States materially can wage a long attritional conflict. It typically seeks to avoid such wars, however, because they consume political capital more than ammunition. Managing time, alliances, and strategic focus would become the real battlefield.

Israel Confronting Multi-Front Attrition

For Israel, in a gradually evolving war without decisive resolution against Iran, calculations differ fundamentally from Washington’s due to geography and the immediacy of threat.

Unlike the United States, Israel lacks strategic depth. Prolonged attrition would keep its home front under sustained missile or security pressure. While capable of short, high-intensity escalation waves, extended attrition poses a broader strategic challenge.

Israel retains strong long-range strike capabilities, regional air superiority, and multi-layered air defense systems. Yet in a prolonged conflict, the question shifts from the ability to strike to the capacity to absorb repeated retaliation. Active fronts such as Lebanon could impose sustained daily fire, creating economic and social strain.

Advanced missile defense systems, however effective, are not designed for indefinite high-intensity daily flows without significant economic and logistical costs. Repeated interceptions require expensive replenishment turning attrition into a logistical as much as a military issue.

A likely Iranian and allied approach could involve “missile saturation,” exhausting Israeli air defenses and creating openings for impactful strikes. Active participation from Lebanon or Yemen would multiply operational pressure.

If war drags on without decisive results, Israeli leadership would confront a central question: does continued operation enhance deterrence, or does unresolved attrition erode it?

Historically, Israel has sought swift resolution or recalibrated rules of engagement rather than managing prolonged low-intensity exchanges. Extended missile threats to the home front generate cumulative political and social pressure.

Prolonged conflict would also weigh on domestic politics, including Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s electoral prospects in a sensitive election year possibly pushing Israel toward either concentrated escalation to accelerate resolution or pressing Washington toward de-escalation arrangements.

Unlike the United States, Israel cannot distance the war geographically. It remains at its heart, narrowing its margin for temporal maneuver. Thus, absent decisive outcomes, it may pursue escalation to reshape rules or seek termination under conditions restoring deterrence.

The First Strike as the Decisive Variable

The trajectory of escalation will hinge largely on the nature of the first strike and how Washington translates the largest U.S. military buildup in the Middle East since the 2003 Iraq War into operational action.

Various scenarios have circulated among analysts and administration-linked sources. Yet none appears to fully meet the criteria set by President Trump’s cost-benefit mindset: he seeks clarity and decisiveness, but fears entanglement in an open-ended war.

Former Israeli Military Intelligence chief Tamir Hayman noted that the U.S. has assembled two naval strike groups far fewer than the six mobilized before Saddam Hussein’s removal in 2003 suggesting insufficient force for regime collapse, particularly given Iran’s greater complexity.

An alternative, he argues, may be a broad campaign to weaken rather than immediately topple the regime potentially targeting high-sensitivity figures, including even the Supreme Leader, alongside the Revolutionary Guard and security institutions. Israel might simultaneously be tasked with dismantling Iran’s missile infrastructure.

Israeli journalist Ronen Bergman, writing in Yedioth Ahronoth, posits a different objective: deliver a concentrated, punishing strike over several days to inflict maximum damage, then compel Tehran back to negotiations under harsher terms.

Yet Iran has repeatedly confounded adversaries’ expectations. Much will depend on Tehran’s capacity to absorb the initial blow and impose counter-costs on the United States and Israel.

If Iran weathers the first strike and effectively raises the stakes, all options become more complex. The region could enter a protracted confrontation with no clear victor reshaping regional balances beyond the battlefield.

As history has often shown, wars in the Middle East rarely end with the first strike. More often, they begin with it.

The legal system, originally designed by humans to ensure justice around the world, has been reshaped by political and economic forces into a managerial tool meant to control the behavior of the general public. Simultaneously, it is being reengineered to serve as a shield for those in power protecting them from the consequences of breaking the very laws that govern others.

In the realm of money and influence, escaping punishment and existing above the law stems from a delusion of exceptionalism held by elites who can buy legal immunity with their wealth and connections connections that law enforcement may fear challenging, lest they pay a steep price for doing their job.

This article does not focus on Jeffrey Epstein merely as an individual criminal; rather, it presents him as a case study exposing the systemic evil that paved the way for his misconduct an evil that enabled his exploitation and trafficking of human beings and shielded his crimes by exempting him from the treatment afforded to ordinary citizens. Epstein’s criminality was intertwined with judicial, media, and political institutions, all complicit in a silent partnership that normalized and even nurtured his actions.

This is what turned the Epstein Island scandal into a national trauma, revealing to citizens the moral decay festering behind the public facade of elite virtue and eroding their trust in the very institutions entrusted with upholding justice.

The Illusion of Exceptionalism

Breaking the law for those with wealth and power is rarely the result of a calculated decision weighed against potential consequences. Instead, it is a gradual psychological transformation rooted in an unconscious belief in moral entitlement. These individuals do not see themselves as lawbreakers but as fundamentally different from those to whom laws apply.

Their relationships with powerful figures and their abundant wealth create a sense of proximity to ultimate authority—or even an identification with it leading them to see laws as constraints meant for those beneath them socially and economically.

This illusion is fed by a social environment that rewards strength rather than holding it accountable—where success is often interpreted as a sign of moral or human superiority rather than privilege. As a result, right and wrong become relative to one’s social standing, enabling a moral detachment from society and placing the elite above accountability.

A psychological study titled The Influence of Power on Moral Reasoning and Self-Interest poses a crucial question: Does power corrupt the mind? The findings indicate that powerful individuals are more inclined to make decisions driven by self-interest rather than ethical principles.

They don’t see themselves as corrupt or immoral but as special cases deserving of special treatment. For them, morality becomes relative and reshaped. They don’t reject morality altogether; they simply believe society’s conventional definitions do not apply to them. Thus, morality shifts from a universal standard to a malleable construct molded by one’s level of influence.

Most alarming is the study’s revelation of how power facilitates narcissistic entitlement. Those with authority often act in their own interest at the expense of others. Power provides the tools for such behavior, legitimizing denial and rebellion through structural immunity. Over time, repeated evasion of consequences embeds this illusion into the subconscious, becoming part of one’s very identity.

This illusion of exceptionalism isn’t a passing whim it’s a psychological confidence born of the interaction between personal authority and systemic design. Power doesn’t instantly corrupt; it slowly erodes the common threads that remind individuals they’re part of a shared human fabric.

As elites grow detached in their ivory towers, they begin to view others as lesser beings subject to laws they themselves are exempt from. This helps explain their violations and the hypocrisy of their publicly espoused values.

Individual Evil vs. Systemic Evil

If we say the illusion of exceptionalism is the psychological rationale behind lawbreaking, then in Epstein’s case, we must ask: Were his transgressions isolated to one deviant individual or part of a broader system that allowed him to operate with impunity? Can we view his case as an individual pathology or as institutionalized evil that legitimized his actions?

Treating Jeffrey Epstein as a lone deviant with a psychological disorder or sexual perversions gives us an incomplete picture. Such urges may exist across social strata, yet most people suppress them due to laws and their consequences. When these impulses are enabled by systemic structures when powerful individuals partake under legal cover then we are no longer dealing with a personal failure, but with organized complicity.

Epstein was neither a drug lord nor a serial killer. He was a businessman with intimate access to political, scientific, and even royal elites an access that secured him legal immunity and distorted the social contract. In this alternate moral marketplace, the weak are subject to the law, while the powerful transcend it under the guise of personal freedom and private pleasure.

Epstein created a haven for these inhumane indulgences—his island—designed to cater to elite desires. Blaming him alone sanitizes the culpability of others and the system itself, reducing a sprawling network of crimes to a single monstrous figure. His death and the destruction of his island do not resolve the issue.

He could not have succeeded without a system that enabled and protected him one that nourished the illusion of exceptionalism and transformed elite sexual deviance into a form of entitled behavior within a web of shared interests.

The systemic rot is evident in Epstein’s 2008 plea deal, when he faced charges of human trafficking and sexual assault of minors crimes that should have earned him decades in prison, if not a life sentence. Instead, he served just 13 months in a cushy jail, allowed to leave six days a week to work.

This leniency was bought through powerful connections and expensive lawyers. It told the world: laws are for common criminals—not for well-connected businessmen.

Perhaps the clearest sign of systemic failure was Epstein’s death in 2019, after his final arrest. He was found dead in his cell in what was officially deemed a suicide. But reports from the Justice Department’s inspector general revealed troubling anomalies: neglected guard protocols, disabled cameras, falsified logs.

These suggest not incompetence but fear fear among the powerful of the secrets Epstein might have revealed in court.

Media outlets also played a key role in whitewashing his image, portraying him as a charming elite figure, a fixture at power tables and social galas. The public especially victims were led to believe someone so revered couldn’t be a predator.

But the truth shows Epstein wasn’t just a deviant man he was a symptom of an entrenched, systemic evil stretching from cultural elites to political and legal institutions that provided him cover, safety, and legitimacy.

The Moral Shock to Society

The Epstein Island saga wasn’t just another trending scandal. Its impact was profound. These were not merely files of political, legal, and moral corruption—but a psychological rupture in the public’s trust of its elites. The social contract, wherein political leaders are guardians of the people, was shattered. Leaders were now seen as predators—exploiting the innocent, manipulating minors, and commodifying human life.

The files still surfacing today demonstrate clearly that influence is the most potent tool for laundering the image of deviant figures and protecting them. For ordinary citizens, this realization is a betrayal. The system they relied on to govern the world is morally bankrupt and untouchable.

This breeds institutional alienation, as people see themselves not as participants in justice but as tools for votes and consumption.

From a psychological perspective, the public now feels duped. The stories they told themselves about justice and dignity were illusions a defense mechanism to feel safe. With that illusion gone, they are left with institutional paranoia, convinced deception is the norm and any honest elite figure is a rare exception.

Ultimately, the social danger posed by the Epstein case lies not in a loss of trust in one name or another, but in political despair a belief that the gap between rhetoric and reality is unbridgeable. The public now understands they are facing a systemic fraud one that must be unraveled to prevent further exploitation by elites who exist above the law.

For if the law doesn’t apply to everyone, then it’s not law at all it’s a veil for elite impunity, obscuring a system where power, not justice, reigns.

The U.S. administration made little effort to disguise the real motive behind its assault on Venezuela and the abduction of Nicolás Maduro in early January. From the outset, it was abundantly clear that Venezuelan oil was the defining issue of the moment.

As the weeks passed and the dust settled from the sudden military strike and from the shock it sent through political and economic circles in Washington the circle of beneficiaries began to emerge. They were drawn largely from President Donald Trump’s inner circle and those close to his administration.

With this clarity came mounting suspicions among Trump’s critics and opponents that the operation bore the hallmarks of insider trading. Democratic lawmakers accused the administration of orchestrating what amounted to a friendly carving-up of Venezuela’s oil “cake,” distributing its profits among Trump’s friends and closest allies.

Which companies stand to benefit most from Venezuelan oil? What are their ties to Trump? Which oil investors rose to prominence after the operation, and what do they offer the president in return?

Are the beneficiaries limited to American firms, or is a broader international scheme taking shape? And finally, will Trump’s plans to divide Venezuela’s oil wealth pass without serious resistance? This article seeks to answer these questions and more.

Venezuela’s Oil Cake at Stake

Trump has long maintained close, mutually beneficial ties with America’s oil barons. During his bid for a second presidential term, he was quick to promise them substantial profits in exchange for backing his campaign and political action committees.

Executives from U.S. oil companies that operate complex refineries Chevron, Valero Energy, Marathon Petroleum, Phillips 66, and ExxonMobil collectively donated no less than $2.5 million to Trump’s 2024 campaign committees, with the bulk coming from Chevron board member John Hess.

Yet just as the prize seemed within reach, several companies pulled back. Contrary to Trump’s lofty expectations, America’s oil giants did not rush to express gratitude for the opportunity to seize Venezuelan oil.

At a White House meeting on January 9 attended by Chevron, ExxonMobil, ConocoPhillips, Continental Resources, Halliburton, HKN Inc., Valero, Marathon, Shell, Trafigura, Vitol Americas, Repsol, Eni, Aspect Holdings, Tallgrass, Riesa Energy, and Hilcorp, opinions were sharply divided between caution and enthusiasm.

ExxonMobil and ConocoPhillips, in particular, voiced concerns that Venezuela’s oil sector, in its current state, would struggle to attract international investment. Exxon CEO Darren Woods described Venezuelan oil as “uninvestable,” while ConocoPhillips CEO Ryan Lance argued that the country’s energy system would require extensive rebuilding before serious operations could begin.

These concerns are not unfounded. In 2007, Caracas nationalized the companies’ assets as part of a sweeping state takeover, leaving Venezuela owing them billions in arbitration awards $10 billion to ConocoPhillips and $1 billion to ExxonMobil of which only a fraction has ever been paid. Trump made it clear during the meeting that recovering these debts was not currently a priority.

Trump also lashed out at Exxon, accusing it of manipulation and suggesting he preferred to keep the company out of Venezuela. Yet Exxon’s close ties to the administration, including a $1 million donation to Trump’s inauguration fund, placed it high on Trump’s list regarding neighboring Guyana’s oil.

Maduro had repeatedly claimed Guyana’s oil belonged to Venezuela, even dispatching warships to intimidate Exxon’s operations there. With Maduro now detained, Exxon and the Trump administration appear aligned at least on Guyana.

Beyond the technical difficulty of refining Venezuela’s heavy crude, the country’s commercial and legal frameworks are deeply eroded. Producing just 1.1 million barrels per day, Venezuela’s oil sector has been battered by years of neglect and U.S. sanctions targeting both oil and finance.

While Washington began sanctioning Caracas in 2005, it was not until Trump’s first term in 2017 that the oil sector was effectively strangled. Production collapsed, and the industry has languished for nearly a decade.

ConocoPhillips proposed restructuring the state oil company PDVSA, aligning with Trump’s plan to involve major banks in debt restructuring and to secure hundreds of billions of dollars in loans to rebuild infrastructure. Trump is reportedly seeking $100 billion urgently to rehabilitate Venezuela’s infrastructure and make it attractive to oil investors.

Summing up the prevailing frustration, Bob McNally, founder of Rapidan Energy Group, wrote on the American Petroleum Institute’s “State of U.S. Energy” platform: “The Trump administration has learned that you can’t just go into Venezuela and turn a spigot to get three million barrels a day. That’s not how it works.”

Chevron: First in Line

Chevron stood alone in its readiness to move. It is the only U.S. oil company still operating in Venezuela through joint ventures with PDVSA, thanks to a special waiver granted under the Biden administration in 2022. Before the military operation, Chevron accounted for roughly 20 percent of Venezuela’s oil output, though its license barred it from launching new projects or significantly expanding production.

The U.S. operation and Maduro’s forced cooperation presented Chevron with a golden opportunity. The company had donated $2 million to Trump’s inauguration fund, more than any other oil firm, cementing its favored status.

Chevron employs 3,000 people in Venezuela and possesses ready infrastructure and deep expertise. Vice Chairman Mark Nelson pledged to double production immediately, from 240,000 barrels per day, with plans to increase output by another 50 percent over the next 18–24 months. Chevron’s stock has risen 7 percent since the operation.

Between Corruption and Republican Loyalty

Oilfield services firms stand to gain even more than producers. With lower costs and fewer financial risks, companies providing drilling, maintenance, and logistics could reap outsized profits.

SLB is one such firm. Like Chevron, it continues operating in Venezuela and saw its shares surge 28 percent after the U.S. operation. CEO Olivier Le Peuch told the White House meeting that SLB has $700 million worth of equipment already in Venezuela and is ready to scale up immediately.

Baker Hughes and Halliburton—once led by former Vice President Dick Cheney—are also seeking contracts.

In oil trading, Vitol and Trafigura received the first licenses from the Trump administration to export Venezuelan crude under a $2 billion preliminary deal with the current government led by Vice President Delcy Rodríguez. By late January, the two firms had already sold $500 million worth of Venezuelan oil around 11 million barrels to U.S. and international buyers. Trafigura sold its first cargo to Spain’s Repsol, while Vitol struck deals with Phillips 66 and Valero.

The licenses sparked backlash due to both firms’ corruption records. Vitol paid $135 million in penalties in 2020 over bribery in Ecuador, Mexico, and Brazil, and admitted to paying bribes to Mexico’s state oil company in 2024. Trafigura paid $126 million in 2024 following a U.S. Justice Department corruption probe tied to Brazil.

Suspicions deepened when Vitol emerged as the first buyer, given that its representative John Addison donated at least $6 million to pro-Trump political committees.

Small Adventurers and New Investors

Anticipating the hesitation of major firms, Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent said ahead of the White House meeting that large companies appeared uninterested, while smaller independents and individual explorers were aggressively courting the administration.

A Washington Post investigation found that these smaller, risk-embracing firms often led by major Trump donors were among the biggest beneficiaries.

At the top of the list is billionaire Paul Singer, owner of Elliott Investment Management and a major Republican donor who has contributed at least $10 million to Trump-aligned committees. Elliott has long pursued distressed Venezuelan assets and is now poised to acquire them, including Citgo, the Houston-based refiner owned by PDVSA until 2019.

Control of Citgo would allow Elliott to process Venezuelan heavy crude at its refineries in Illinois, Louisiana, and Texas.

Citgo resumed purchases of Venezuelan oil in late January 2026 for the first time since 2019, buying an initial 500,000-barrel shipment from Trafigura.

Another key figure is billionaire Harold Hamm, chairman of Continental Resources and one of Trump’s most influential energy advisers. Hamm helped secure $1 billion for Trump’s campaign and is seeking a foothold—however small—in Venezuela’s oil sector.

Hedge funds have also moved in. Ben Clarey of Tribeca Investment Partners described Venezuela as “a massive gold rush.”

Money First, Not America

Trump’s ambitions extend beyond U.S. companies. European firms already operating in Venezuela Spain’s Repsol and Italy’s Eni may prove more immediately useful. Both regained licenses allowing debt recovery worth $6 billion.

Despite “America First” rhetoric, all payments must pass through U.S.-controlled accounts, with Washington taking at least 40 percent of proceeds so far.

Abu Dhabi National Oil Company (ADNOC) has also signaled interest, having previously sought to curry favor with Trump through proposed investments in Gaza’s gas fields.

Globally, the administration aims to redirect oil flows away from Russia and China. India, after U.S. encouragement, pledged to cut Russian oil imports and expand investment in Venezuela. Indian Oil Corporation and ONGC Videsh are preparing to scale up operations.

Congress Pushes Back

Trump’s maneuvering has not gone unnoticed. Fourteen Democratic lawmakers, led by Adam Schiff and Elizabeth Warren, sent a sharply worded letter to White House Chief of Staff Susie Wiles demanding transparency about beneficiaries.

They called for disclosures under the Ethics in Government Act, warning that any sign of illicit enrichment would trigger congressional investigations.

“There is no finish line... If someone uses the word ‘Zionist’ as an insult, it will be classified as a crime, and action will be taken against them,” declared Adam Presser, TikTok’s new Head of Operations, inaugurating a new era in Israel’s criminalization strategy. In this era, “anti-Zionism” becomes an immoral act deserving of punishment.

What Presser didn’t say is that TikTok’s new policy merely echoes a long-standing Zionist campaign. One of its earliest champions was David Ben-Gurion, who lambasted a British court for prosecuting Zionist leaders over arms smuggling into Palestine at a time when Israel was still just a vision in the Zionist imagination.

British historian Christopher Sykes chronicles this episode as the first turning point linking anti-Semitism to anti-Zionism. The linkage served to transform political and legal critique into a moral accusation of religious hatred against Jews. Over time, this evolved into the forms of anti-Semitism we recognize today.

These forms now work in unison to build a legal and moral fortress around Israel, criminalizing virtually any critique of its policies, institutions, or even the concept of Israel itself. Traditional anti-Semitism includes hatred of Jews for their religion, ethnicity, or alleged global influence, as well as age-old tropes of dual loyalty and conspiracy.

More modern forms focus on Holocaust denial or critique of the Israeli state forms that Zionist thinkers now prioritize due to the decline of older expressions.

A pivotal figure in this moral restructuring is the so-called “self-hating Jew” a person of Jewish heritage who criticizes Israel or Zionism. Israel is now leveraging social media to redefine moral norms, pushing a framework that not only protects Zionism from criticism but also seeks to delegitimize its opponents even those within the Jewish community itself.

This article explores the entwined evolution of anti-Zionism and anti-Semitism, tracing their emergence as concepts and instruments of political utility. It examines how Israel, faced with growing international scrutiny over its human rights violations, seeks alternative ethical and legal frameworks outside the UN to silence dissent frameworks that criminalize criticism while leaving hatred itself untouched.

From Concept to Instrument

Hatred of Jews stretches back centuries in Europe rooted in Catholic theology, mysterious rituals, or alleged economic exploitation. Accusations ranged from ritual child murder to financial greed. From ancient Rome through the Enlightenment, anti-Jewish sentiment remained embedded in European society. In contrast, Jews in the Arab world enjoyed relative inclusion and respect in fields such as medicine, finance, and the arts.

Only in the late 19th century did anti-Semitism become a fully formed concept. As Europe transitioned from empires and churches to nation-states and racial ideologies, Jews were increasingly seen as an alien presence. Wilhelm Marr coined the term “anti-Semitism” in 1879, and it was swiftly weaponized by figures like Vienna’s mayor and later adopted by the Nazis in their quest to purify the Aryan race.

Though Semitic peoples included Jews, Arabs, Arameans, and Abyssinians, the term came to denote Jews exclusively, replacing the more direct “Judenhass” (Jew-hatred).

Anti-Semitism became a form of nationalist expression, culminating in Nazi Germany’s extermination campaign. Though often associated with Germany, anti-Semitic practices also thrived in Britain, France, Hungary, Poland, and Russia driving Jewish migration to the U.S., which later restricted immigration, redirecting Jewish migration to Palestine.

Post-WWII, the Holocaust turned anti-Semitism into a global taboo. The Zionist project, now manifested as a physical state in Palestine, gained full Western and UN support through the 1947 partition plan and the 1948 war that established Israel on most of historic Palestine.

In the Arab world, rising Jewish immigration and colonial meddling prompted tensions. The Balfour Declaration of 1917 marked a turning point, pitting native populations against Zionist settlers. Despite Arab recognition of Jews as historic minorities, their new colonial identity provoked resistance. Western media labeled Arabs as anti-Semitic, backward, and anti-liberal language that shaped the emerging narrative.

Even when Palestinian intellectual and political leaders distinguished anti-Zionism from anti-Semitism, the Western media and Jewish leadership focused their messaging around the latter. Incidents such as the 1920-21 Nabi Musa riots in Jaffa and the 1929 Buraq Uprising were framed in terms of “religious fanaticism” and “blind hatred,” signaling a shift of moral burden from Europe to the Arab East.

By the time of WWII, this narrative had become fixed. Critique of Israel was automatically equated with anti-Semitism, sidelining the legitimate political grievances of Palestinians.

Criminalization and Exception

Following the 1948 war, Israel’s narrative of victimhood found fertile ground in the West. The nascent state defeated multiple Arab armies, seized more land than allotted by the UN, and was portrayed as fulfilling Jewish self-determination. Never mind that it had a well-trained military supported by Britain, France, and the U.S., while Arab forces were fragmented and ill-equipped.

This moral framing discredited Palestinian liberation as aggression. The 1956 Suez War confirmed Western alignment with Israel, now enshrined as a global moral exception. However, the 1967 war exposed Zionist expansionist ambitions, as Israel occupied Egyptian, Jordanian, Syrian, and Lebanese lands. Global sympathy began to wane.

In response, Zionist organizations like AIPAC and the ADL launched a campaign to redefine anti-Zionism as the new anti-Semitism. Israeli Foreign Minister Abba Eban declared that distinguishing between the two was a false dichotomy. Booklets and media campaigns reinforced this equivalence until 1975, when the UN passed Resolution 3379 declaring Zionism a form of racism.

Though later revoked under U.S. pressure during the 1991 Madrid Peace Conference, Resolution 3379 remains a historical rupture. It stripped Israel of its political sanctity, shifting its image from victim to occupier. In retaliation, Israel accused the UN of global anti-Semitism and began appealing directly to Western governments for support.

From then on, anti-Semitism reemerged as the preferred shield against criticism. The concept of anti-Zionism was again demonized, even as the global conversation increasingly focused on Israel’s occupation, assassination campaigns, and suppression of Palestinian leaders and intellectuals.

The New Face of Anti-Semitism

Post-1991, accusing Zionism became increasingly risky. Zionist institutions began redefining the discourse, blending anti-Zionism and anti-Semitism into a single moral and legal charge. This effort intensified in the mid-1990s with systematic legal and media tactics to conflate political criticism of Israel with anti-Jewish hate.

In 2002, AIPAC and the ADL spearheaded an initiative to establish a new moral standard one that classified opposition to Zionism as an expression of anti-Semitism. A comprehensive study argued that criticism of Israel masked a deeper animosity toward Jews, painting Israel as Nazi-like and evil.

Scholar Norman Finkelstein observed that these campaigns typically coincided with Israeli PR disasters—such as the Intifadas or international pressure to end the occupation. Journalist Tamar Meisels conceded that some extreme anti-Zionist rhetoric indeed echoed classical anti-Semitism but insisted that legitimate criticism of Israel remained valid.

The line between the two became blurrier after the 2014 Gaza protests. Legal scholar Rob Kahn proposed criteria to distinguish between them: location (attacking a synagogue is anti-Semitic; an embassy, anti-Zionist), intent (boycotting kosher goods is anti-Semitic; Israeli goods, not necessarily), and rhetoric (global conspiracies vs. criticism of occupation).

Kahn also noted that Muslims in Europe often suffer from Islamophobic versions of anti-Semitism, such as bans on halal slaughter or circumcision further muddying the waters of discrimination.

As pro-Palestinian Jewish voices emerged like Jewish Voice for Peace, If Not Now, and Neturei Karta Zionist institutions faced a crisis: how to silence criticism from within. They resurrected Abba Eban’s label: “self-hating Jews.”

By pathologizing dissent, critics were framed as mentally unwell rather than ideologically opposed. But these Jewish critics created a rift in the Zionist narrative they did not abandon Judaism, only opposed the colonial policies of the Israeli state.

This internal criticism, coming from individuals who are themselves Semites, undermined Israel’s ability to brand all opposition as anti-Semitic. It legitimized anti-Zionism in Western discourse—in academia, media, and human rights movements.

As a result, Zionist organizations crafted a new ethical paradigm, combining morality, memory, victimhood, and law to criminalize criticism even when anti-Semitism as a charge fails.

From 2020 Onward: The Final Synthesis

Since 2020, Western legislatures in the U.S. and France have debated equating anti-Zionism with anti-Semitism an attempt to criminalize political dissent. In parallel, Israel passed openly racist laws, such as the 2018 Nation-State Law and annexation efforts in the West Bank.

A December 2023 U.S. House resolution declared anti-Zionism a form of anti-Semitism, mandating federal institutions to enforce this standard. In France, a bill is under debate to redefine anti-Semitism to include denial of Israel’s statehood.

This legislative trend is driven by politicians like MP Caroline Yadan and supported by President Emmanuel Macron, who has equated anti-Zionism with anti-Semitism.

The most recent battlefield is TikTok, where Israel seeks to shut down pro-Palestinian activism that uses slogans like “From the river to the sea” interpreted by Israel as genocidal, despite being a call for liberation.

This effort includes denial of the Gaza genocide, blaming Hamas, and repeating the same justification used since 1948: “We had no choice. If you disagree, you are an anti-Semite and a Zionism-hater.”

Ultimately, the discourse surrounding anti-Zionism is judged not by geographic or political content, but by its stance toward Israel’s legitimacy. The phrase “From the Nile to the Euphrates” symbolizes Israel’s expansionism, while “From the river to the sea” threatens its current form.

In conclusion, the Zionist narrative today faces increasing challenges from Jewish dissent, international criticism, and shifting public opinion. Israel is compelled to abandon the anti-Semitism framework and craft a new Zionist moral code one that punishes opposition and sustains its colonial enterprise, even as traditional justifications collapse in the face of undeniable atrocities.

What is now required is a modern, sophisticated discourse one that welcomes non-Jewish Zionists while excluding anti-Zionist Jews. A narrative capable of perpetuating colonial domination in Palestine and regional hegemony under new rationales, yet to be fully articulated or accepted.

The issue of unofficial prisons in Yemen’s eastern Hadramaut governorate has once again come under the spotlight, following unprecedented official accusations against the United Arab Emirates of operating secret detention centers in the area most notably, suspected sites within the Riyan Airport military base in the city of Mukalla.

These allegations, made by Yemen’s official authorities, have reopened one of the country’s most sensitive and complex files. For years, there was official denial, media silence, and fear among victims, despite persistent reports from rights organizations about detention sites operating outside state authority.

On January 19, 2026, Salem Al-Khanbashi, a member of the Presidential Leadership Council and the governor of Hadramaut, stated in a press conference that civilians were being detained extrajudicially in locations previously controlled by Emirati forces places that operated without oversight from prosecutors or official institutions.

Victims’ Testimonies

Beneath the official statements lies a disturbing chorus of testimonies from former detainees, many of whom were silenced by fear or threats. These accounts point to undisclosed detention facilities, extralegal practices, and a total absence of accountability.

One such testimony comes from Aseel, who was just 15 years old when he was arrested in 2016. Speaking to Noon Post, he recounted a nearly two-year detention at a military site near Riyan Airport—then under Emirati control—without any legal process.

“I was arrested without a warrant, without explanation,” he said. “I had no idea why or where I was being taken. I simply disappeared, and no court ever saw my case.”

Aseel wasn’t held in an official prison, but rather in a sealed metal container used as a makeshift cell. “The moment I was placed inside, I felt completely cut off from the world,” he recalled. “I had no idea when or if I would get out.”

He spent two years in the container under horrific conditions. “In the summer, it was suffocatingly hot. In the winter, unbearably cold. There was no regard for the fact that I was just a child,” he said.

During his detention, Aseel was subjected to various forms of mistreatment during interrogations, including physical assault and psychological pressure, without any legal oversight. “They would call me for questioning without telling me what they wanted. I was beaten, insulted, and intimidated. I was a child with no protection,” he said.

Aseel’s health deteriorated after undergoing emergency surgery for appendicitis. “Immediately after surgery, they took me back to the container. I was still in pain and vulnerable. I was beaten again, and my condition worsened.”

Throughout the two years, Aseel was never allowed to contact his family. “The hardest part was thinking about my parents. Did they know where I was? Was I even alive in their eyes?”

In 2018, Aseel was released alongside other detainees, without trial. “Before they let us go, we were told clearly not to speak about what had happened. We were forced to sign pledges, as if those two years had to be erased,” he said.

Now, seven years after his release, Aseel says the psychological and physical toll remains. “My story isn’t unique. It happened to others too including children.”

Aseel’s case echoes that of Rashad, another former detainee who endured years of abuse inside the Riyan facility. Arrested in 2017 without a warrant or charges, Rashad was held incommunicado and subjected to prolonged abuse, amounting to enforced disappearance.

“My family had no idea where I was. I wasn’t brought before any authority,” he told Noon Post. “It was as if my life had been erased.”

Rashad described his detention site as a small space within a military compound, not a formal prison. He was tortured, deprived of food, sleep, and even access to a bathroom. “I was dragged on the ground, starved, denied rest, and subjected to sexual torture using tools,” he said.

He added that his family was extorted for information and false promises of release. “They exploited my mother’s anguish. They demanded large sums of money in exchange for lies.”

After his eventual release, Rashad faced social and professional difficulties and was targeted with trumped-up charges. “I left the prison, but the trauma and scars stayed with me,” he said.

Extralegal Detention

Abdulrahman Barman, executive director of the American Center for Justice, told Noon Post that secret detention sites without judicial oversight constitute arbitrary detention, explicitly criminalized under Yemen’s constitution and penal laws.

Barman explained that Yemeni law allows no more than 24 hours of detention without formal charges. Any violations are both domestic and international law infractions. These practices also breach the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights and the Convention Against Torture.

Given the context of armed conflict, these violations fall under international humanitarian law, compounding their severity.

Attorney Majed Ahmed Bin Jaa, representing victims in Hadramaut, confirmed that facilities like Riyan and Al-Dhaba Port operated under Emirati military control, away from Yemeni state oversight.

These locations became closed military zones, housing secret detention sites where civilians from Hadramaut and Shabwah were held without legal justification. Emirati officers and allied local forces oversaw arrests and interrogations.

Some detainees were never registered or were listed under aliases, further obstructing legal redress. The UAE-Yemen security cooperation agreement was misused, he noted, to bypass judicial oversight.

These prisons emerged from a breakdown of central authority and the rise of foreign-backed forces. Local actors facilitated and protected these operations for political or security gains.

Bin Jaa emphasized that detainees had no access to legal representation or family, and were interrogated by foreign officers. The system involved widespread enforced disappearances, torture, solitary confinement, threats, and forced confessions.

Later investigations uncovered hidden cells and erased records, underscoring a systematic effort to conceal evidence and evade accountability.

Grave Violations

Eshraq Al-Maqtari, a member of Yemen’s National Commission to Investigate Alleged Violations of Human Rights, called the abuses in Hadramaut among the most serious violations of international human rights law.

She emphasized that these acts infringed on fundamental rights to life, dignity, and physical and mental well-being. The detainees were held in unhealthy, illegal facilities and subjected to torture using sharp tools and psychological punishment.

According to Al-Maqtari, many perpetrators were not Yemenis, but members of the UAE military, stationed at sites like Riyan Base in Mukalla.

She noted that from 2016 to 2021, a vacuum in judicial oversight enabled rampant abuse. The Commission documented lasting physical and psychological harm among victims, including permanent disabilities and trauma.

Many pieces of evidence were destroyed, particularly at Riyan, and reports of anonymous burials near detention sites demand further investigation. “The victims want dignity restored and an official UAE apology,” she said.

Victims still face social stigma, job discrimination, and threats. Al-Maqtari urged swift psychological and legal support and labeled the Hadramaut prisons file as an urgent priority for justice.

Crime Scenes

Barman further stressed that such facilities must be treated as crime scenes under the law, where grave offenses like enforced disappearance and extrajudicial killings took place.

He called for legal preservation of evidence and access for independent investigators. “These are not ordinary cases—they are war crimes and crimes against humanity,” he stated.

Criminal responsibility extends not just to perpetrators but also to commanders who ordered or concealed the abuses. Institutional liability also applies to any armed group or official body that knowingly participated or remained silent.

Such crimes are not subject to statutes of limitation, and victims have the right to pursue justice indefinitely.

Emirati Oversight

Deputy Justice Minister Faisal Al-Majeedi told Noon Post that Yemen’s security file during this period was run outside formal institutions, under direct UAE supervision and allied militias, bypassing the ministries of Interior and Defense.

Official inspection teams, including Governor Khanbashi, found torture tools and signs of evidence tampering at these sites. Presidential orders have since mandated the closure of such facilities and the release of all unlawfully held detainees.

The Attorney General’s Office is now coordinating with the Ministry of Justice to launch legal investigations, supported by interior ministry teams. Al-Majeedi stressed that enforced disappearance is among the most severe crimes, demanding urgent redress and reparations.

The legal process will begin with evidence collection and proceed through prosecution and trial.

Tawfiq Al-Humeidi, head of SAM for Rights and Liberties, said the UAE’s role in Yemen has deviated dangerously since 2015. He linked the secret prisons to a broader project aimed at dismantling state institutions and targeting opposition groups.

According to Al-Humeidi, the UAE established a network of secret prisons in Aden, Abyan, Shabwah, Hadramaut, Mocha, and Socotra. SAM documented these facilities and issued multiple reports since May 25, 2017.

He said Hadramaut was not an isolated case, but part of a structured system involving militias, torture squads, and networks of impunity. Common practices included electric shocks, beatings, suspension, sleep deprivation, and even transferring detainees abroad.

While recent official actions are a step forward, Al-Humeidi insisted that the abuses qualify as war crimes and demand international judicial mechanisms to ensure justice.

The reality long denied can no longer be ignored. Yemen’s path to justice must begin with the full exposure of what happened in Riyan and accountability for those responsible.

What began in Iran as a bazaar merchants’ strike amid the sharp collapse of the national currency quickly ignited broader protests over the country’s worsening economic conditions.

These protests erupted just as Iran emerged from a war that, at its core, aimed to shake the foundations of the regime’s security and military apparatus, particularly targeting its nuclear ambitions and missile manufacturing capabilities.

These unprecedentedly scrutinized demonstrations have reopened debates over the future of a regime that, for decades, has stood as both a pillar of regional balance and a source of volatility. Iran has long been a regional power impossible to ignore sometimes fueling tension, sometimes easing it depending on the shifting dynamics of influence, interests, and rival alliances that have defined the Middle East for generations.

These developments are unfolding at a moment of extreme regional sensitivity. The Middle East is entering a new phase of uncertainty, marked by an Israeli military offensive increasingly operating beyond any legal or political restraints, and a U.S. administration that has cast aside conventional foreign policy norms in its pursuit of a redefined global order even going so far as to abduct the president of a sovereign nation in an unprecedented diplomatic breach.

Against this backdrop, questions have intensified regarding the survival of Iran’s post-1979 Islamic Republic. The growing American push toward a military strike framed as a strategic ‘earthquake’ aimed at destabilizing the regime intersects with similar Israeli ambitions.

This alignment has triggered deep anxiety among regional powers, fearful that any miscalculated action could unleash sweeping geopolitical and security aftershocks from which no capital in the region would be immune.

Serious Moves Toward Regime Change

While protests in Iran are not new the country has weathered repeated waves of unrest they have not previously led to serious discussions of regime change. From the Green Movement in 2009, to the deadly protests of 2019, and the 2022 “Woman, Life, Freedom” uprising, the regime has managed to contain unrest despite its steep political and security costs.

What sets the current protests apart is not only their scale but also their timing, amid unprecedented foreign political and military escalation. The domestic unrest coincides with continued Israeli pressure to launch a new strike on Iran aimed at halting its ballistic missile program and rebuilding damaged nuclear facilities following the recent Twelve-Day War.

This threat has moved beyond Israel, garnering explicit support from U.S. President Donald Trump, whose joint statements with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu echoed a shared will to act.

This volatile climate was amplified by a watershed event days before the protests peaked: the U.S. operation to capture Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro and transport him to the United States. The move, a blatant breach of sovereignty and diplomatic norms, marked a turning point in American interventionism, reinforcing a belief within Washington that it can unilaterally impose new political and security realities by force.

Within this context, for the first time, American discourse has combined support for Iranian protesters with direct threats to Tehran. Trump warned of strikes on Iran’s nuclear and missile infrastructure if it threatens regional or global stability. His rhetoric shifted from deterrence to open advocacy for regime change, stating in a Politico interview: “It’s time to look for new leadership in Iran.”

Citing U.S. officials, The Wall Street Journal reported that Trump is pushing for ‘decisive’ military options against Iran while simultaneously deploying reinforcements to the region signaling a shift from traditional deterrence to active planning for regime overthrow.

Israel has echoed this shift. Netanyahu expressed hope for “the Persian people’s liberation from tyranny,” while Israeli Foreign Minister Gideon Sa’ar declared support for “the Iranian people’s struggle for freedom,” framing the issue as one with the regime, not its citizens.

Unlike Israel’s historically hostile stance, the more profound shift lies in Washington’s willingness to pair rhetoric with military planning bringing regime change out of the realm of speculation and placing it squarely on the international decision-making agenda, with all the risks that entails.

Unprecedented Regional Sensitivity

In contrast, regional powers have reacted with pronounced caution. Far from adopting a policy of neutrality, Gulf states and Turkey have grown increasingly alert to both the internal unrest in Iran and the rising threat of American military escalation.

Turkey has adopted a cautious, balanced tone. Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan acknowledged the legitimacy of the protesters’ grievances, calling them “real and structural,” while warning that “Iran’s external adversaries are manipulating them.”

He reiterated Turkey’s interest in a cooperative path with Tehran and emphasized that regional stability hinges on such a course. Reuters quoted Fidan saying that Ankara would not tolerate the use of violence against Iran.

Similarly, the Turkish ruling party’s spokesperson, Ömer Çelik, warned against chaos in Iran, even as he recognized legitimate domestic issues. He stressed that these issues, as Iranian President Masoud Pezeshkian suggested, must be addressed internally.

Çelik warned against foreign interference, particularly from Israel, cautioning that such meddling could spark broader crises.

What is more striking, however, is the hardened stance adopted by Gulf states—one that goes beyond past tensions with Tehran. According to Western media reports, Gulf countries played a key role in delaying a near-certain U.S. military strike, with their opposition becoming a decisive factor.

The Wall Street Journal reported that Saudi Arabia is leading a Gulf front, including Qatar and Oman, to dissuade Washington from attacking Iran. These countries warned that such a move could destabilize global oil markets and ultimately harm the U.S. economy.

Saudi officials reportedly told Tehran they intend to distance themselves from any conflict and will not permit the use of their airspace for American strikes a clear effort to avoid entanglement. The Gulf states, according to the report, have warned Washington that regime change in Iran would risk unleashing uncontrollable chaos.

A senior Saudi official stated that regional stability remains Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman’s top priority.

Qatari Prime Minister and Foreign Minister Mohammed bin Abdulrahman Al Thani echoed this sentiment at the Davos Forum, stating that the region is in a highly tense phase and that Doha opposes further escalation. He urged the U.S. to return to diplomatic engagement with Iran over its nuclear program.

Although other Gulf states have remained publicly silent, all indicators suggest they share the concern that a U.S. strike could trigger a collapse of Iran’s institutions with no clear post-regime vision raising the specter of widespread instability.

A Geopolitical Earthquake in the Region

The fall of the Iranian regime would constitute a seismic shift comparable in magnitude to the 1979 revolution itself, which ended Iran’s alliance with the U.S. and transformed it into a revolutionary force opposing Western hegemony in the Middle East.

That transformation redrew the region’s political and security map, spawning new alliances, proxy wars, and asymmetric conflicts. Iran’s “export of revolution” strategy fostered political-military networks across several Arab states, enabling Tehran to wield direct or decisive influence over the policymaking of multiple capitals.

Should the regime now collapse especially violently or without preparation it is unlikely to create a manageable power vacuum. Instead, it could unleash a complex web of security, ethnic, and sectarian crises. Risks include the disintegration of central authority, arms proliferation, and the leakage of sensitive materials including enriched uranium to non-state actors, echoing the chaotic collapses of Iraq and Libya, but on a far more dangerous scale given Iran’s strategic location and military capacity.

Regionally, the fallout would be immediate and multifaceted. Turkey would view any Kurdish movement inside Iran as a direct threat to its national security, fearing spillover effects across its southeastern border.

In the south, Gulf states would monitor unrest in Khuzestan a resource-rich province with a sizable Arab population historically subjected to marginalization. Any autonomous or separatist ambitions there could trigger cross-border conflicts and foreign interventions.

Pakistan would also face amplified challenges in Balochistan, where the Baloch population spans both sides of the Iran-Pakistan border, and regime collapse could energize separatist movements. In the north, Azerbaijan may seek to expand its influence, given the large Azeri population in Iran raising the likelihood of transnational ethnic tensions absent a managed political transition.

Globally, the consequences would reverberate through the great power balance. Russia would lose a functional partner in countering Western influence, while China would face a strategic crisis due to Iran’s centrality in its Belt and Road Initiative and its role in Chinese energy security. Long-term instability could force Beijing to reassess its entire regional strategy.

China’s 2023 sponsorship of the Saudi-Iranian reconciliation was driven by the need for a more stable regional environment to safeguard its strategic interests. A sudden collapse in Tehran would upend that vision, complicating Beijing’s ambitions for global realignment and secure trade routes.

Gulf states, for their part, have invested heavily over two decades in diversifying their economies beyond oil and positioning themselves as regional and global mediators. These investments are fragile and vulnerable to major regional upheaval.

Thus, the potential fall of the Iranian regime is not viewed as an opportunity, but as an unmanageable strategic risk. A threatened Tehran could resort to desperate actions, such as closing the Strait of Hormuz an act that would send shockwaves through global energy markets.

As such, the Gulf position, which seeks to prevent military escalation while maintaining dialogue with Tehran, reflects a calculated understanding: the known risks of an unstable status quo are less dangerous than the unpredictable chaos of regime collapse.

At the same time, Gulf capitals aim to preserve their strategic alliance with Washington while avoiding any direct conflict with Iran that could trigger a historic crisis beyond containment.

Israel in the Background

The region’s current anxiety cannot be divorced from the rapidly evolving regional landscape especially given Israel’s expanding military operations, which now stretch well beyond Gaza’s genocide into a broader regional confrontation.

The Israeli assault is no longer confined to Palestinians; it has expanded to Lebanon and Syria and culminated in the Twelve-Day War with Iran. This escalation has been coupled with territorial reoccupations in southern Lebanon and Syria, as well as strategic engagement with minority groups, including overtures to the Druze and increased outreach to Kurds in Syria.

On an even wider scale, Israel’s recognition of Somaliland carries dangerous strategic implications. It signals an effort to gain a foothold near the Bab al-Mandab and the Red Sea an already volatile region affected by the war in Yemen, Sudanese unrest, and Ethiopian-Somali tensions. Israeli involvement risks becoming yet another destabilizing force.

Gulf anxiety peaked following Israel’s airstrike on Doha a move widely interpreted as a dangerous breach of established red lines. The attack marked a turning point, targeting the capital of a U.S.-allied Gulf nation and revealing unprecedented recklessness in Israeli behavior.

In this context, The Guardian published a striking analysis by Sanam Vakil of Chatham House titled: “Israel Has Replaced Iran as the Gulf’s Greatest Security Threat.” She argues that Israel’s unchecked aggression is emboldened by American inaction, and that the strike on Doha marked a profound shift in Gulf threat perception.

Vakil asserts that the attack wasn’t just an assassination of Hamas leaders; it redefined regional security priorities. While Iran has long been seen as the primary destabilizing force due to its nuclear program, regional proxies, and past attacks like the 2019 Aramco strikes Israel’s actions over the past two years have prompted Arab capitals to reconsider.

Unrestrained campaigns in Gaza, expanding violence in the West Bank, ongoing escalations in Lebanon and Syria, and now direct attacks on Gulf territory have led to a new conclusion: Israel, not Iran, may now be the region’s most destabilizing actor.

This reassessment is pushing Gulf leaders to pursue greater strategic autonomy and reduce overreliance on the U.S. The attack on Doha may well prove to be a defining moment underscoring that the traditional regional order is fracturing, and even trusted alliances can no longer guarantee protection.

Managing Risk Is Safer Than Facing the Unknown

This evolving regional strategy is driven by core priorities: preserving vital interests, ensuring minimum stability, and avoiding surprises from escalating, uncalculated events.

Extreme pressure or a sudden collapse of the Iranian regime could push Tehran into a zero-sum mindset, resorting to unpredictable aggression or, alternatively, leave behind an ungoverned space ripe for transnational militancy in a structurally fragile region.

Thus, the Gulf preference for regime continuity in Iran despite its hostility and structural flaws—is not based on political alignment but on risk management. As problematic as the current regime is, it remains partially predictable and capable of reining in its proxies within known parameters.

Its fall, however, could unleash non-state militias with no centralized control, devolving into sectarian and ethnic conflict, mass displacement, and region-wide humanitarian crises.

Moreover, rebalancing regional power in the wake of Iran’s collapse would be immensely complicated. It is far from certain that a new equilibrium would be more stable. On the contrary, it could create a vacuum for near-absolute Israeli dominance undermining the ambitions of both Turkey and Saudi Arabia to fill the void and assume greater regional leadership.

In this light, Gulf states see managing tensions—with all its costs—as less perilous than stepping into the unknown. There are no guarantees in the event of regime collapse, nor any reliable means of containing its consequences for a state as geopolitically significant as Iran.

The clashes between the Syrian Arab Army and the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) have exposed the fragility of the SDF’s military structure and its organizational weakness despite it being an entity that has existed for nearly a decade, a partner to the international coalition against ISIS, receiving military and logistical support, and controlling regions considered Syria’s breadbasket and important oil resources.

The erosion of SDF influence in its areas of control began in early January when its fighters withdrew from Ashrafiyah and Sheikh Maqsood neighborhoods in Aleppo after three days of clashes with the Syrian Army. It then lost control of the cities of Deir Hafer and Maskanah in eastern Aleppo in less than 24 hours.

Subsequently, the collapse accelerated, and the SDF lost the eastern parts of Deir ez‑Zor and Raqqa in under 48 hours, in clashes with local tribal fighters, residents, and the Syrian Army.

The Army then advanced and seized towns in al‑Hasakah province before the battles halted under a new four‑day ceasefire that went into effect on the evening of January 20. The ceasefire has since been shaky amid mutual accusations of violations, and the Ministry of Defense announced 11 soldiers killed and 25 wounded by SDF attacks.

These losses and ruptures brought back descriptions of the SDF as an “empire on chicken legs,” in the words of Syrian Information Minister Hamzah al‑Mustafa, and a “paper tiger,” according to researchers and experts just before U.S. envoy to Syria Thomas Barak said the SDF’s original purpose as the main force against ISIS on the ground has ended.

The Birth of the SDF and the End of Its Role

The SDF emerged in northeastern Syria in 2015 as a military alliance formed with direct U.S. support, which relied on it as the main ground force in the war against ISIS within the international coalition. Since its founding, Kurdish elements have dominated its leadership and military hierarchy.

The People’s Protection Units (YPG) and the Women’s Protection Units (YPJ) form the backbone of the SDF, comprising the majority of fighters and commanders. The YPG was founded in 2012 as the armed wing of the Democratic Union Party (PYD), considered the Syrian branch of the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK).

The SDF also includes Arab, Kurdish, and Syriac factions, with estimates of its fighters ranging from 40,000 to 60,000 including armed tribal members though the SDF claims up to 100,000, a figure many researchers regard as exaggerated.

The SDF encompasses internal security forces (Asayish), counter‑terrorism units, and regional military councils responsible for protecting areas like Deir ez‑Zor, Manbij, and Raqqa. The Autonomous Administration serves as its civilian face.

In terms of armaments and funding, the SDF received direct military support from the international coalition, including light, medium, and heavy weapons troop carriers, mortars, heavy machine guns plus ammunition and equipment. It also receives annual financial support, most recently $130 million allocated by the U.S. Senate in the 2026 Department of Defense budget for the SDF and the Free Syrian Army.

The SDF’s primary resources come from oil sales, alongside taxes and fees on income, goods, and imports, with a heavy dependence on oil revenue.

The last major battle between ISIS and the SDF, backed by the international coalition, was fought between February 9 and March 23, 2019, in the village of al‑Baghouz in eastern Deir ez‑Zor, ending the group’s geographic control but not eliminating its activity in Syria.

The SDF regularly reports on operations against ISIS cells in its areas, citing, for example, 163 security and military operations in 2025, while claiming ISIS carried out 220 attacks against its forces.

A Record of Combat and Strategic Withdrawals

While the SDF has a history of fighting ISIS -the reason for its formation- its military record shows repeated setbacks, especially against the Turkish‑backed Syrian National Army in operations such as Euphrates Shield (2016), Olive Branch (2018), and Peace Spring (2019).

Turkey repeatedly targets individuals and leaders it deems “terrorists” in SDF‑held areas, viewing the SDF as affiliated with the PKK an organization it and some other states designate as terrorist.

The SDF has not engaged directly with Bashar al‑Assad’s forces or Iranian militias; its ties with the Syrian regime were characterized by shared political and economic interests, and even discussions of integrating the SDF into Syrian forces under specified mechanisms.

After years of praise as the most effective ground partner in defeating ISIS, U.S. envoy Thomas Barak said on January 20 that the SDF’s original purpose has ended, and that Damascus is now prepared and qualified to assume security responsibilities.

Rapid Collapse: A Military Analysis

The fall of Bashar al‑Assad’s regime on December 8, 2024, did not change the military situation in eastern Syria. The SDF remained autonomous, despite the March 10, 2025 agreement to integrate its civil and military institutions into the state an agreement that went unimplemented amid mutual accusations between the government and the SDF.

The Syrian Network for Human Rights documented 65 civilians shot dead by SDF snipers in Aleppo between November 30, 2024, and January 30, 2025, after the city was liberated and regime forces withdrew. Recently, President Ahmad al‑Sharrah noted that the SDF hindered Aggression Deterrence forces entering Aleppo by its presence in Sheikh Maqsood, impeding advancement that spread into Ashrafiyah and Bani Zayd.

Before the latest clashes, there were several skirmishes, security tensions, and mutual accusations, especially in Sheikh Maqsood and Ashrafiyah, halted by coordinated ceasefires negotiated between Defense Minister Marhaf Abu Qasra and SDF Commander Mazloum Abdi seen by researchers as attempts to draw the government into battle and undermine political agreements.

Once fighting began, the SDF’s strength quickly crumbled both in populated neighborhoods and across larger areas like eastern Aleppo, Raqqa, and eastern Deir ez‑Zor. It failed to sustain its positions, contradicting its narrative of enduring capacity.

The SDF’s media director, Farhad Shami, described it as a “military, social, political, and administrative organization,” claiming the new Syrian Army was unprepared to absorb a structured force like it.

A Syrian Army commander involved in operations, speaking on condition of anonymity, told Noon Post that the SDF’s collapse was tied to several military causes, pointing out that true strength is measured by a military structure’s ability to withstand changing conditions a test the SDF failed within days, also citing the lack of cohesion among its units.

He emphasized that Syrian military and security forces took measures to protect civilians, manage evacuations, prevent abuses, identify objectives and sensitive sites, coordinate defections, prioritize peace over combat, and open humanitarian corridors.

Turkish foreign policy and military affairs analyst Ömer Özkizilcik told Noon Post that the rapid SDF collapse means there are no longer forces under that name. He said non‑YPG elements fragmented, leaving the YPG as the sole remaining force, significantly weakened and limited in influence.

According to him, the YPG has not been completely defeated yet its future depends on its stance toward the recent agreement with the Syrian government, whether through implementation and playing a local policing role in Kurdish areas like al‑Hasakah, or repudiation leading to a new military campaign that ends its existence.

Anas Shawakh, political analyst at the Bridges Center for Studies, attributed the dramatic collapse to external and internal factors. Externally, he cited the absence of international coalition air support -the most critical factor- which revealed the true size and strength of the SDF and adversely affected fighters’ morale.

Internally, Shawakh pointed to two main factors: the SDF’s control over predominantly Arab areas like Deir ez‑Zor and Raqqa, where it was seen as an occupying force lacking intrinsic motivation to defend, and the composition of its ranks, heavily Arab recruits who were conscripted or joined for income, limiting genuine military commitment and contributing to its rapid disintegration amid popular and tribal uprisings that dismantled SDF control before the Syrian Army’s arrival.

“Gang‑style” Tactics and Weapon Shortfalls

During the fighting, the SDF used snipers targeting civilians after losing control, deployed Iranian‑made drones, and was accused of striking Aleppo’s municipal palace a claim the SDF denied.

On January 10, the Syrian Army’s Operations Authority said the SDF entered a new escalation phase with more than ten Iranian‑made drones targeting Aleppo, its civil institutions, and mosques. Subsequent reporting revealed drone‑manufacturing sites under its control.

The SDF left many mines in Ashrafiyah and Sheikh Maqsood. Its extensive tunnel networks, dug over years and stretching thousands of kilometers, had limited impact on the battle, and its tank and rocket launcher presence was minimal.

The Syrian commander told Noon Post that the SDF relied primarily on coalition air cover, intelligence, logistical and technical support, and organizational flexibility that made it a hybrid force rather than a trained, organized army. This resulted in heavy weapons being limited in effectiveness and its strength tied to the political‑military environment rather than its own capacities.

Brigadier General Ahmad al‑Aboud, commander of the Second Brigade of the 66th Division in the Syrian Army, told Noon Post that the tunnel networks failed to serve the SDF during battles despite their high cost and advanced engineering, describing the collapse as due to internal factors linked to the absence of real attachment to the land.

Military strategist Brigadier General Abdullah al‑As’ad told Noon Post that the SDF’s roots in the PKK equipped it with guerrilla and sabotage tactics ambushes and assassinations rather than the structured organization and doctrine of conventional armies.

Shawakh reiterated that the strategic weapon of the SDF was the air cover provided by the international coalition the main reason for its endurance in previous years, as shown by its rapid collapse without it.

Regarding armaments, he said that while the SDF had large quantities of weapons due to substantial funding, high‑grade arms were limited to specific groups operating with the coalition in anti‑terror missions roughly two thousand fighters under strict oversight and that more advanced weapons were restricted by Turkish‑U.S. coordination to prevent threats to Turkish national security.

Finally, Shawakh noted that light weapons were less visible in confrontations because the SDF leadership decided -under pressure- that withdrawing from Arab-majority regions was preferable to attempting to defend more effectively in Kurdish areas, particularly in al‑Hasakah, considered its primary base and the origin of most of its activities in Syria.

“Social media is the weapon of the modern age. The most important purchase happening right now is TikTok. Number one. And I hope it happens, because it could be decisive. The second is X. If we get those two, we’ll win a lot. We have to fight this battle, to influence the Jewish people and our non‑Jewish friends.”

This statement by Israeli occupation Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu during a meeting with American influencers at the Israeli Consulate in New York in September 2025 can only be read as a frank admission of the decisive battle over reputation and awareness—one no longer fought just on battlefields but in the digital space where beliefs are formed and narratives defeated.

When Netanyahu speaks of social platforms as a “weapon” and frames owning or influencing them in terms of purchase and control, it reveals the depth of Israeli anxiety over losing control of public opinion, especially in the United States, where the image of occupation has eroded due to the war on Gaza.

The traditional Israeli narrative can no longer contain images of killing, starvation, and siege spreading unmediated across the very platforms Netanyahu seeks to dominate, weakening Israel’s ability to present itself as the perennial victim.

A Deep Shift in American Public Mood

Since the outbreak of the war on Gaza, the images that reached American consciousness have created a deep rift between Israel’s official narrative and American public expectations, leading to an unprecedented decline in popular support for Israel in the U.S. and Europe in modern history. This points to a reversal in American public sentiment toward the occupation and its official story.

This negative shift isn’t measured by numbers alone, but also by increasing rejection of the idea of unconditional support not only among Democrats accustomed to criticism but even within segments of Republicans, including youth within the “Make America Great Again” (MAGA) movement associated with Donald Trump, previously one of Israel’s safest support bases.

Multiple polls between 2024 and 2025 revealed erosion in traditional American support for Israel. In September 2025, a Pew Research Center survey showed that more than 53% of Americans held a negative view of Israel, up sharply from 42% in 2022 before the war. A separate Gallup poll in July 2025 found nearly 60% of Americans opposed Israeli military operations in Gaza, while only 32% supported them—low by historical support standards.

These shifts extend beyond military approval or disapproval to voter sympathy. A Quinnipiac University poll found that only 47% of Americans believed supporting Israel served U.S. national interests, while 41% believed the opposite marking a sharp reversal from December 2023, when 69% supported backing the occupation.

Alongside rising public opposition, attitudes toward how the war has been managed and Israel’s responsibility have also changed. An Associated Press–NORC Center poll found that nearly half of Americans believe Israel’s military response has gone beyond acceptable limits—a high proportion relative to previous measures.

The shifts in American sentiment are not confined to traditional partisan divides. According to Pew, the sharp decline in positive views of Israel is not limited to Democrats; Republicans under age 50 are now nearly evenly split between support and opposition, having previously been heavily tilted toward support.

Polling by University of Maryland political scientist Shibley Telhami supports this trend, showing that support for Palestinians has broadened across the Democratic Party spectrum, beyond progressive youth, and revealing a growing gap between older and younger Republicans regarding support for their party’s stance on Israel.

From Traditional Propaganda to Digital Warfare

The change in American public sentiment is more than a numerical decline; it’s an indicator of the deep erosion of the moral alliance between Americans and Israel’s traditional official narrative, long presented as self‑evident truth. That narrative now faces an existential dilemma: the traditional “hasbara”—public diplomacy—methods that Israel relied on for decades no longer suffice.

In response, Israel launched a broad plan to reengineer public discourse in the U.S. through propaganda campaigns that could be described as a “digital transformation of political messaging,” relying on political influence, digital media, generative artificial intelligence, and networks of influencers, and enlisting experts and companies closely tied to both Republican and Democratic parties and conservative evangelical circles, in an attempt to recalibrate discourse and reclaim lost influence.

The first step in this race was contracts with major American and European public relations firms, most notably the agreement between the Israeli government and Clock Tower X, led by Brad Parscale, former digital campaign director for Trump in 2016 and 2020 and current chief strategy officer at Salem Media, a conservative Christian media network operating more than 200 platforms.

Under a contract filed with the U.S. Department of Justice under the Foreign Agents Registration Act (FARA), the company committed to providing “strategic communications” services with a heavy focus on targeting young audiences through digital platforms like TikTok, Instagram, YouTube, and podcasts, aiming for at least 50 million monthly impressions of content reflecting a pro‑Israel narrative a high number by traditional digital campaign standards.

The registered documents show the contract was worth about $6 million over four months, to implement a broad campaign titled “Combating Anti‑Semitism” in America, supporting the role of Havas Media Network, a global advertising and PR intermediary that serves as the primary channel between Israel and multiple American firms executing Israeli campaigns on behalf of the occupation government.

According to the filings, Havas received more than $100 million since 2018 to manage campaigns related to promoting Israeli tourism within the U.S. market. Its intermediary role has enabled Israel to build a wide network of contracts without appearing directly on the implementation front, reflecting a shift from relying solely on political lobbying firms to employing media systems capable of operating globally, including data analysis, audience targeting, and algorithmic impact measurement.

This campaign, launched after Israel’s foreign ministry ended its contract with American PR firm SKDKnickerbocker known for its closeness to the Democratic Party and co‑founded by former White House communications director Anita Dunn following controversy over contracts aimed at “managing the digital narrative” about Israel sought to develop a bot‑based program to recruit civilian spokespeople for major international media and promote pro‑Israel narratives online, including content tied to the Israeli Peebas family killed by the occupation army in Gaza, whose bodies were returned by Hamas.

Beyond focusing on hostage stories and the narrative of Israeli suffering as a way to counterbalance suffering rather than contextualize occupation and siege, Israel’s reputation‑cleansing efforts rested on several core axes: reframing events in Gaza within a “war on terror” narrative with constant reference to the shock of October 7; polishing Israel’s image as an advanced democratic state; and wielding allegations of anti‑Semitism as a political and moral shield to silence radical criticism.

But Israel’s efforts extended beyond firms to innovations in recruiting influencers, celebrities, and digital personalities through the so‑called “Esther Project,” another facet of Israeli plans focused on enlisting and managing dozens of American influencers to publish pro‑Israel content over months, with a budget approaching $1 million.

In parallel, advertising contracts reveal Israeli attempts to revive marketing for the tourism sector most harmed since October 7, with the Tourism Ministry assigning Targeted Communications Global a $1.2 million campaign using influencers and commercial‑targeted content to promote travel to Israel.

Artificial Intelligence as a New Battlefield

The effort did not stop at firms and influencers but included attempts to influence generative AI systems themselves. Part of Clock Tower X’s strategy aimed to shape search engine results and AI chatbot outputs including systems like ChatGPT so that pro‑Israel answers and content would be prioritized for American users.

This approach was accompanied by massive spending on direct digital advertising. Israel spent tens of millions of dollars on campaigns across Google, YouTube, X, and Outbrain designed to ensure broad dissemination of carefully worded content that appears independent but uses terms such as “self‑defense,” “fighting terrorism,” “human shields,” and “humanitarian aid” vocabulary intended to become part of the algorithmic lexicon when processing Gaza‑related queries.

What makes these campaigns especially controversial is their speed and enormous financial scale. In 2025 alone, the occupation government allocated a massive budget exceeding 545 million shekels (about $145 million) under “Project 545,” a comprehensive initiative led by Iran Shuvitz, head of strategic communications at the Israeli Foreign Ministry.

The project aims to support Israeli diplomatic activities in the face of declining international support, especially in the U.S., but the scale of investment and breadth of tools reflect the depth of the crisis Israel faces regarding legitimacy and public opinion a battle no longer decided by military force alone but by control of the narrative itself.

Gen Z in the Crosshairs of Israeli Campaigns

Israeli campaigns clearly target Generation Z, seen as the most present on short‑video platforms, the most open to anti‑Israel discourse, and the most sympathetic to Palestinians. From this perspective, Israel views the real long‑term battle as one over the consciousness of this generation, which will be future voters, decision‑makers, and academics.

Digital campaigns designed specifically for platforms heavily used by Gen Z TikTok, Instagram, YouTube invest in fast, light content via individual influencers rather than direct government accounts, relying on personal storytelling, music, and visual effects to create emotional sympathy that precedes any political analysis.

In addition to digital campaigns, Israel has invested in interactive field projects targeting youth directly, the most prominent of which is a mobile virtual reality experience titled “October 7 Experience,” touring universities, churches, and Christian events to provide a form of “sensory simulation” of the attack using audio‑visual technologies aimed at placing the visitor in the position of an “Israeli victim.”

Contracts with PR and political marketing firms have played a pivotal role in this direction. Official American documents show that the occupation government directed a significant portion of its advertising budgets to firms specializing in youth communication, analyzing their digital behavior, and crafting messages aligned with their content consumption patterns.

These efforts come amid a tangible decline in popular support for Israel among American youth. Data shows younger generations exhibit lower levels of traditional support for Israel compared to older generations a trend confirmed by Gallup’s finding that support for Israeli military operations in Gaza among 18‑ to 34‑year‑olds has fallen below 10%, reflecting a clear shift in young people’s sentiments versus older groups.

Churches and Evangelical Christians: The Traditional Gate of Influence

Beyond targeting young audiences, a new social group Israel seeks to fortify is evangelical Christians a remaining strong support base that itself faces internal changes and generational pressures. This has driven Israeli efforts into evangelical churches in an attempt to contain declining support within this influential Christian constituency.

More concerning to Israeli policymakers are polls showing that declining support for Israel has extended even within the evangelical base, with growing sympathy for Palestinians among young evangelicals and rising opposition to the Gaza war among groups traditionally considered Israel’s most steadfast supporters. Consequently, Israel has embarked on what can be described as a re‑occupation of the evangelical religious domain, this time with more advanced and daring tools.

Under FARA disclosures, contracts worth millions were signed with specialized Christian marketing firms, notably the newly founded “Faith Through Works,” to execute a $3.2 million digital campaign targeting evangelical churches and Christian universities directly on behalf of the occupation government, using ethical narratives that recast Israel as the eternal victim and link Palestinians to extremism and terrorism.

The most alarming aspect of these contracts is the use of geo‑fencing technology in what was described as “the largest geographic targeting campaign in U.S. history.” This technique draws digital boundaries around churches and Christian universities and tracks smartphones within them during worship or religious events, later targeting those users with ads and messages crafted specifically for them.

As part of a deeper, more stable strategy, targeting did not stop at congregations but extended to clergy themselves, viewed as the most influential mediators in shaping collective awareness among worshippers. Documents indicate funding for special trips for Christian influencers and religious leaders—including pastors—to Tel Aviv and settlements, carefully curated tours that obscure the reality of occupation while highlighting the narrative of “besieged democratic Israel.”

Most significantly, over a thousand American pastors were brought to Israel as part of training and orientation programs intended to equip them with ready‑made promotional discourse to be reproduced later within American churches sermons cloaked as spiritual guidance but carrying explicit political content.

In this sense, Israel’s goal isn’t only to win the sympathy of evangelical Christians, who represent a huge electoral base in the U.S. grounded in theological as much as political convictions but to transform the church itself into a political propaganda platform and pastors into “narrative agents” operating within a relatively closed social fabric resistant to alternative narratives.

Is This Enough to Cleanse Israel’s Image?

Despite its enormity, multiplicity of tools, and broad scope, Israel’s campaigns in America raise a fundamental question about the effectiveness of millions of dollars in “washing” Israel’s reputation after its war on Gaza a war that marked a sharp turning point in global perceptions of the occupation, not only because of the scale of destruction and number of victims but because the Israeli narrative lost its ability to monopolize meaning.

These campaigns operate on the central assumption that what happened in Gaza can be linguistically and morally reframed through the injection of alternative narratives. But this assumption collides with the fact that the Gaza war was broadcast not only via official statements or media reports but moment‑by‑moment on phone screens in real time, with images that require no interpretation.

While Israel is betting not on Western governments which still provide it political and military cover but on long‑term public sentiment, these campaigns are bounded by reality’s constraints. Generative AI systems, no matter how influenced by concentrated content, don’t work in a vacuum; they also rely on UN and rights‑based reports and documented testimonies that are difficult to erase.

This makes the battle for control of digital knowledge uncertain in outcome and potentially liable to backfire on those who try to manipulate it.

Even the intensive targeting of Gen Z has not gone unchallenged: the very youth these campaigns aim at are often the most capable of deconstructing them, exposing contradictions, and questioning motives. Many Israeli campaigns have faced sharp backlash, with influencers suffering severe criticism once their cooperation with entities tied to the occupation government became known; some have been forced to delete content or issue public apologies.

Ultimately, the intense effort reveals a deeper predicament. Israel, which for decades relied on automatic evangelical support, now finds itself compelled to spend millions to convince an audience once presumed “guaranteed.” This shift reflects not influence, but fear of losing one of the pillars of political protection within the American system.

In that sense, these campaigns don’t so much cleanse Israel’s reputation as they expose its fragility: a state fighting a narrative survival battle, attempting to compensate for lost moral legitimacy with intensifying technical and financial tools. But legitimacy, once lost, cannot be bought with advertisements, restored through influencers, or repaired by artificial intelligence.