
        <rss version="2.0">
        <channel>
            <title/>
            <category>3084</category>
            <lastBuildDate>2026-09-21 21:11:34</lastBuildDate>
            
        <item>
            <id>s1ajzltyze</id> 
            <title>Erdogan’s quiet squeeze: Turkey just closed a key Iranian financial channel</title> 
            <description>Analysis: Behind Ankara’s fiery anti-Israel rhetoric lies cold economic reality: facing expanding American secondary sanctions, Turkish financial regulators quietly shut down a major Iranian state banking node in Istanbul</description>
            <author>Amine Ayoub</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2023/11/17/SkxDrEHNp/SkxDrEHNp_0_66_3000_1689_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/s1ajzltyze</link>
            <pubDate>Sun, 20 Sep 2026 08:40:17 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>On September 18, 2026, Turkey’s Banking Regulation and Supervision Agency (BDDK) quietly revoked the operating license for the Istanbul main branch of Bank Mellat. The administrative decision, officially published in the government’s Official Gazette the following morning, formally terminated the licensed banking operations of one of Iran’s largest state-linked financial institutions on Turkish soil. The move was executed without press conferences, public fanfare, or official explanations. Yet for Israel, this quiet administrative action carries far greater strategic weight than the daily public rhetoric coming out of Ankara.
 
The decision highlights a clear division between public posturing and regulatory action. For months, Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan has used every public podium to project ideological defiance against Israel and the West. Addressing political rallies in Istanbul, he routinely delivers hostile speeches, provides open political support to Hamas, and portrays his government as a primary defender of radical regional movements. However, behind this wall of public hostility, Turkey’s financial regulators were quietly executing an administrative action that directly dismantles a key state-backed Iranian financial foothold inside a NATO member state.
A formal, licensed banking branch like Bank Mellat's Istanbul office provides Iranian state enterprises with operational capabilities that informal money transfer channels and hawala networks cannot match. A licensed branch allows Iranian state entities to issue standardized letters of credit, clear foreign currency transactions, access SWIFT messaging protocols, and maintain direct correspondent relationships with regional commercial banks. While Tehran can easily shift small capital sums through informal brokers, executing multi-million-dollar state trade contracts requires formal banking infrastructure. By shutting down Bank Mellat’s licensed operations, Turkish regulators have degraded Iran’s ability to conduct structured, large-scale commercial transactions through Anatolia.
Furthermore, this development provides Israel and its American allies with concrete evidence when engaging other third countries hosting Iranian financial facilities. States across the Gulf and Central Asia frequently argue that shutting down Iranian financial nodes carries excessive political and diplomatic costs. Turkey’s action demonstrates that even a regional power led by an ideologically hostile government will comply when the financial penalties of non-compliance become concrete. For Israeli officials coordinating with the United States Treasury, Ankara's move offers a clear lesson: targeted secondary sanctions pressure can effectively constrict Iran's global financial footprint without requiring formal political alignment from the host country.
The administrative action against Bank Mellat did not occur in isolation. It followed a rapidly expanding campaign by Washington to raise the systemic cost for foreign financial centers enabling Iranian state trade. On September 4, 2026, the U.S. Treasury imposed sanctions on the Turkish institution Golden Global Bank alongside two affiliated entities, citing alleged financial services provided to Iranian networks linked to the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC). Ten days later, on September 14, Washington targeted Russia’s VTB Bank as part of the same enforcement push, explicitly warning international financial institutions that maintaining correspondent ties with designated Iranian entities posed an existential threat to their access to the American financial system.
To grasp the full strategic weight of closing Bank Mellat’s Istanbul operations, one must view it within the long history of Iranian financial activity inside Turkey. Following decades of international sanctions targeting Tehran over its nuclear program and regional proxy network, Iran developed intricate financial mechanisms to preserve access to foreign currency and international trade routes. Turkey, sharing a long land border and extensive bilateral trade ties with Iran, has served as a vital transit zone and financial clearinghouse for Iranian commercial enterprises since the early 1980s.
Bank Mellat itself was no recent addition to Istanbul’s financial district. The state-linked lender established its presence in Turkey in 1982, eventually expanding to operate branch offices in Istanbul, Ankara, and Izmir. Over four decades, these offices served as primary conduits for financing bilateral energy purchases and handling commercial settlements. However, the bank’s deep integration into Tehran’s state apparatus made it a frequent target of international enforcement. European Union documentation identifies the Iranian government as Bank Mellat’s largest shareholder, maintaining strict sanctions against the institution for providing financial services to Iran’s nuclear and defense sectors.
The extreme dangers of hosting Iranian financial operations remain seared into the memory of Turkish regulators following the Halkbank scandal. In that episode, Turkey’s state-owned Halkbank became entangled in a massive federal prosecution in the United States over an alleged multi-billion-dollar scheme designed to help Tehran evade American sanctions. The long legal battle, which was finally resolved in early 2026, inflicted immense reputational damage on Turkey’s financial sector and served as an enduring institutional lesson for Turkish bank supervisors regarding the catastrophic costs of defying United States financial mandates.
Recent geopolitical shifts across the Middle East made formal Turkish banking access even more vital for Tehran. As Houthi maritime attacks and heightened security risks in the Red Sea disrupted ocean freight routes, Iranian commercial enterprises increasingly shifted their export traffic toward overland land corridors running through Anatolia toward European and Mediterranean markets. Turkey became an indispensable land bridge for Iranian trade. By revoking Bank Mellat’s operating license, Turkish regulators did not erase Iranian trade entirely, but they removed a primary formal financial pipeline at the exact moment when Tehran relied most heavily on northern trade routes.
The operational consequences for Iranian state enterprises will be immediate and severe. Without a licensed branch in Istanbul, Iranian exporters and state importers lose direct trade financing mechanisms. Securing letters of credit and clearing foreign exchange through Turkish commercial banks now requires navigating complex, multi-tiered arrangements with third-party intermediaries. Informal money transfer networks typically charge steep fees, often taking haircuts between 5 and 15 percent per transaction, while introducing significant settlement delays and counterparty default risks. Moreover, forcing Iranian state trade into informal channels renders those financial flows far more vulnerable to international intelligence tracking and signal surveillance.
 
Ankara’s willingness to sacrifice Iranian banking access reflects the delicate macroeconomic recovery currently underway inside Turkey. Following years of volatile monetary policies, currency depreciation, and runaway inflation, Turkey’s economic leadership, led by Finance Minister Mehmet Simsek and Central Bank Governor Fatih Karahan, has spent the past year executing a strict stabilization program. The Central Bank of the Republic of Turkey has maintained its benchmark policy rate at 37 percent, successfully rebuilding gross foreign exchange reserves to 184 billion dollars by early September 2026, while annual inflation slowed toward 31 percent.
This fragile economic stabilization effort depends entirely on maintaining uninterrupted access to Western capital markets, securing foreign portfolio inflows, and preserving correspondent banking ties with major international lenders. Turkish economic officials understand that their financial system cannot survive a confrontation with the U.S. Treasury. A single secondary sanctioning event targeting a major Turkish commercial bank could trigger immediate capital flight, destabilize the lira, spike sovereign borrowing costs, and derail the government's disinflation program. 
This episode also highlights the deep structural rivalry that continues to define relations between Ankara and Tehran beneath their tactical diplomatic cooperation. While Turkey and Iran occasionally align on specific regional issues, they remain historical competitors fighting for influence across Syria, Iraq, and the South Caucasus. Turkish national security officials view Tehran's expanding network of Shia militias with deep skepticism, particularly in northern Iraq and northwestern Syria, while Iran actively opposes Turkey’s strategic ambitions in the Zangezur corridor linking Azerbaijan. When American economic pressure raises the cost of hosting Iranian state facilities, Ankara feels little ideological loyalty to Tehran and unhesitatingly prioritizes its own sovereign interests.
For Israel and its strategic partners, the policy takeaway is clear: sustained, targeted secondary sanctions enforcement remains an effective tool for constricting Iran’s regional posture. The closure of Bank Mellat's Istanbul branch will not single-handedly collapse Tehran's economy, but it systematically raises the cost of Iranian state operations abroad. By proving that even hostile regional governments will yield when the financial price of compliance is lower than the penalty of defiance, Ankara has demonstrated that relentless economic pressure remains a vital instrument in containing the Iranian threat.
Amine Ayoub, a fellow at the Middle East Forum, is a policy analyst and writer based in Morocco. Follow him on X: @amineayoubx</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>bjnezpntgg</id> 
            <title>An apology is not a speech at the UN</title> 
            <description>Opinion: Yom Kippur is not just a day when we ask God for forgiveness; It is a day when we need to be able to look the person we have wronged in the eye and say: 'I was wrong. I am responsible. I am sorry. Forgive me'</description>
            <author>Eyal Eshel</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/07/02/BJgdsA9XQGx/BJgdsA9XQGx_0_288_3000_1689_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/bjnezpntgg</link>
            <pubDate>Sun, 20 Sep 2026 06:29:58 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>Yom Kippur begins this evening. A day of forgiveness. A day of soul-searching. A day when a person is supposed to stop for a moment, look into the broken mirror and ask himself: Where did I go wrong? What do I need to take responsibility for?
In Israel today, it seems those words have lost some of their meaning. Forgiveness has become a slogan. Responsibility has become a word that someone else is supposed to take. Sacrifice has become solely the duty of the citizens. National pain has become a political tool.
On Tuesday, while our country is dealing with an increasingly complicated security and political reality, the prime minister will once again board a plane and fly to New York for yet another speech from the UN podium. Another speech, another punch on the punch card of the subscription he seems to have taken out at the UN building. More declarations. More grand words for the world, all of them empty of content.
And I ask myself: What about the words we are waiting to hear here at home? I was wrong. I am responsible. I am sorry. Forgive me.
 
Mr. Prime Minister, a country is not built on speeches. It is built on responsibility. Especially now, when the security threats have not disappeared, when the fear of further escalations and infiltrations hangs over us and when the political system is becoming increasingly turbulent and divided, the last thing we need is another cynical use of national pain for political survival.
We failed at the UN. We failed at Israeli public diplomacy. There is no need to travel again. There are moments when a leader needs to understand that his most important speech is not overseas. It is here. In front of the bereaved families. In front of the families of the hostages. In front of the soldiers. In front of the reservists, men and women. And in front of the citizens of Israel.
Above all, in front of the questions that still have not been answered.
Because after more than 2,000 fallen and murdered, after families have been shattered, after lives were overturned in a single moment, it is no longer enough to say, “I didn’t know,” “No one told me” and “Everyone is to blame.”
There comes a moment when a leader needs to stop explaining. To start taking responsibility, especially once he understands that he failed.
That is why, if there is one thing this country owes itself, it is a state commission of inquiry. Not a handpicked committee. Not an investigation shaped by political convenience. Not another attempt to postpone the reckoning until there is no one left to ask the questions.
Roni gave the state the one thing that can never be returned. And I, as her father, was left with the one thing that can never be repaired. And on this Yom Kippur, I want to ask her forgiveness.
A state commission of inquiry that examines everything. The political leadership. The security establishment. The decisions. The warnings. The conception. What was done and what was not done.
Without a real investigation, there is no real responsibility. Without responsibility, there is no forgiveness.
I think about Roni. About my daughter, 19 years and seven months old, who went up to the Nahal Oz operations room that morning to do her job.
Roni was an observer. She was among the eyes of the state. She was there to warn, identify, report and protect. She did her part. And in the end, she sacrificed her life.
This is exactly where the connection lies that we must never forget: Whoever demands sacrifice from citizens owes them responsibility.
Sacrifice does not absolve the state of responsibility. Quite the opposite. The more a citizen has sacrificed, the more accountability the state owes them.
Roni gave the state the one thing that can never be returned. And I, as her father, was left with the one thing that can never be repaired.
And on this Yom Kippur, I want to ask her forgiveness.
My Roni, forgive me for not being there. Forgive me for not making it to you. Forgive me for not managing to save you. Forgive me for not having the chance to reach you and say goodbye.
And perhaps more than anything, forgive me for still tormenting myself with the question of whether there was something, somehow, I could have done so that you would be here with us today.
I know I did not create the reality of that morning. I know I was not the one who was supposed to protect you. But I am your father. And a father’s heart does not operate according to reports, investigations or commissions.
It only asks, again and again: Where was I when my little girl needed me?
Perhaps that is why I am not prepared to give up on the demand for accountability.
Not for revenge. Not for politics.
For Roni.
For everyone who did not return.
For the families who were left behind.
And for this country.
Because someone who will not look the families who bore the price of failure in the eye cannot ask them to keep bearing the price of silence.
Before the citizens, and before heaven as well, one must be able to tell the truth.
October 7 happened on the watch of the country’s leadership. That is not a slogan. It is a chronological fact.
And whoever holds office when the state fails to protect its citizens cannot demand only sacrifice from the public. He also owes them responsibility.
Because Yom Kippur is not only a day when we ask God for forgiveness. It is a day when we need to be able to look the person we have hurt in the eye and say: I was wrong. I am responsible. I am sorry. Forgive me.
Anyone who asks us to sacrifice for the country must be the first to be willing to bear responsibility when the country fails.
That is why I am not asking for another speech. I am asking for truth. I am asking for an investigation. I am asking for responsibility.
And above all, I am asking that Yom Kippur not be turned into yet another backdrop for beautiful words.
Because forgiveness without responsibility is only a word. Sacrifice without responsibility from leaders is exploitation. And a speech without soul-searching is simply another speech.
And perhaps that is the biggest question of this Yom Kippur: not whether we know how to ask forgiveness, but whether we know how to take responsibility for what we have done.
Because God may be able to forgive someone who admits his sin. But an entire people cannot move forward without knowing who failed, how they failed and why.
For Roni.
For all the fallen and murdered.
And for an entire country that has been waiting for almost three years for someone to stop, look it in the eye and take responsibility.
And after everything, from me to you: Forgive me, my Roni.
Eyal Eshel is the father of lookout Roni Eshel, who fell at the Nahal Oz outpost on October 7</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>sj9tjcnkmx</id> 
            <title>Not only Netanyahu: This is why support for Israel really has collapsed</title> 
            <description>Opinion: The opposition isn't attacking California Rep. Brad Sherman's warning about the steep decline in Israel’s standing among Americans because they know he's right and most of the Israeli public simply doesn't want to hear it </description>
            <author>Einav Schiff</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2022/10/06/SkzUSGnMo/SkzUSGnMo_1_0_1920_1080_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/sj9tjcnkmx</link>
            <pubDate>Sun, 20 Sep 2026 02:51:09 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>Adding to the growing body of data showing the collapse of Israel’s standing in American public opinion came an unusual warning over the weekend: Brad Sherman, a Democratic congressman and one of the last remaining pro-Israel figures of the old guard, posted a video featuring horrifying polls from July and made clear that, in his view, the Israeli public and its elected officials do not understand the scale of the danger or its immediacy. At his request, his remarks were translated and quoted in the Israeli media.
On the face of it, the leaders of the “change” camp, certainly those who see themselves as prime ministers, should have pounced on Sherman’s remarks as proof that even on an issue where Benjamin Netanyahu is considered to be “in a league of his own,” he has managed to drag Israel into the abyss. That is certainly true on the eve of Netanyahu’s trip to the UN General Assembly, which this year will be about as festive as Eeyore’s birthday party. 
 
And yet, as of this writing, figures such as Gadi Eisenkot, Naftali Bennett and Avigdor Liberman have not responded to Sherman’s remarks. Yair Lapid tweeted, “We know how to fix this,” but preferred to keep the intriguing information to himself. Perhaps after the election he will deign to share it.
It is tempting to think this is merely another display of incompetence in the campaign, of which there is no shortage. But at least on this issue, the story seems deeper, and Sherman himself put his finger on the point: In the text he published, he referred specifically only to Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir — an “existential danger” — and to Israel’s ambassador to the United States, who in his view “does not understand the severity of the problem.” The rest of his message was directed at “most Israelis”:
“When I hear Israelis tell me that their actions are justified and because they are right they have no problem [with the collapse in public opinion], it shows an ignorance of Jewish history.”
And that is precisely why the leaders of the camp have nothing to offer: Most of the Israeli public simply is not there and does not want to hear it, as the hysteria surrounding a documentary film demonstrated. And leadership in present-day Israel means that if the public does not want to hear something, you do not tell it to them: not Bennett, who supports construction in E1 — a step that accelerated European sanctions — not Liberman, who himself declared that “there are no innocents in Gaza,” and not Eisenkot, who fought attempts to portray him as someone who had been prepared to “withdraw” in Gaza — meaning that he supported the vast destruction that turned Israel into a pariah.
 
Even when it comes to Jewish terrorism and violence emanating from outposts and farms against Palestinians, the rhetoric is cautious and the approach passive: “soft right” does not deliver results. Not that anything else does, but that will not stop them from talking nonsense about “the Hungarian model.”
One can talk from this Yom Kippur until the next about “hasbara,” “Qatari money” and even dump everything on Ben-Gvir and, of course, Netanyahu. But the reality is that the trauma of October 7 joined other major events — above all the suicide bombings of the 1990s and the Second Intifada, and the wars that followed the disengagement — and created what is referred to abroad as “Planet Israel,” a planet that understands perfectly well how it is perceived from the outside and simply does not care, whether out of anger at hypocrisy and antisemitism or out of a survival instinct: “a people that dwells alone” as both a worldview and a source of pride.
The fact that it takes a member of Congress, rather than courageous Israeli leadership, to say this shows just how high and impenetrable the wall has become.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>b1eez00stzl</id> 
            <title>‘NAZA’ isn’t Israel’s real damage. Netanyahu’s government is</title> 
            <description>Opinion: Israel erupted over a Gaza documentary most Israelis have not seen, but Sima Kadmon argues the deeper damage is a government that eroded Israel’s standing, attacks its critics and avoids independent scrutiny</description>
            <author>Sima Kadmon</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/09/17/ByC3shFKMl/ByC3shFKMl_0_0_3000_1688_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/b1eez00stzl</link>
            <pubDate>Sat, 19 Sep 2026 05:32:23 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>Israel displayed an extraordinary ability this week, perhaps last seen in 2017, when then-culture minister Miri Regev attacked “Foxtrot” after it won Venice’s Grand Jury Prize, condemning its portrayal of the IDF without having seen a single frame.
This time, the scale was different. Israel demonstrated an uncanny national ability to experience a film in depth without actually watching it.
 
“NAZA,” the documentary by Yuval Abraham and Rachel Szor, won the Special Jury Prize at the Venice Film Festival on Saturday. By Sunday, seemingly everyone in Israel already knew what was in it, what was missing, why its creators should lose their citizenship and why words like “treason” and “blood libel” belonged in the conversation.
The fact that the film had not yet been screened in Israel became a technicality.
By Wednesday, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu was moving toward legislation that could allow citizenship to be revoked from Israelis accused of defaming IDF soldiers. Culture Minister Miki Zohar had already called for stripping Abraham and Szor of their citizenship. Meanwhile, the film had received some 25 minutes of applause in Venice, publicity that no government campaign could buy.
According to reports about the film, 24 Israeli soldiers and intelligence personnel, many from Unit 8200, describe the military concept of “collateral damage,” the civilian toll deemed permissible when approving a strike.
They describe systems in which a building can be selected and information appears about the people inside it, including family details, children and apartment locations. One interviewee says he approved strikes in which the projected civilian toll exceeded 200.
The IDF has rejected central allegations made in the film. That matters. The testimonies are anonymous; some interviewees describe decisions taken above their own rank; and humans, not algorithms alone, ultimately authorize strikes. There is also a legitimate criticism to be made of a film about the Gaza war that gives little space to the Oct. 7 massacre.
But it is still a film, not a final judgment handed down by a court. This is Venice, not The Hague.
And that brings us to the question the shouting is designed to drown out: What happened when those collateral-damage numbers began climbing?
Artificial intelligence does not feel nausea. It does not recoil. For that, human intelligence is still required.
The power of seeing things without an intermediary should no longer surprise us. Maj. Gen. (res.) Yaakov “Mandy” Orr, a former coordinator of government activities in the territories, has taken more than 250 people over the past year, including retired generals, former security chiefs and diplomats, to see for themselves what is happening on West Bank hilltops.
They saw. They were disturbed. And they talked about it.
The same principle applies here. For three years, the Gaza war was presented to Israelis through satellite images, red boxes, tunnel animations and official briefings. “NAZA,” whatever one ultimately thinks of it, removes some of that mediation. People who say they were inside the system sit on Tel Aviv rooftops and speak in Hebrew about what they witnessed and did.
There is another kind of collateral damage, however, one that no targeting system calculated in advance: Israel’s international standing.
The IDF is emerging from a prolonged war with its legitimacy questioned in places where that once would have seemed unimaginable. Israeli officers consider travel routes with international jurisdiction in mind. Soldiers completing their service will carry these years with them long after the final military campaign ends.
There is damage, and then there is damage.
One ends when a bomb hits a building in Gaza. The other does not disappear. It accumulates quietly and then, three years later, appears on a cinema screen in Venice.
A system capable of calculating how many people are believed to be inside apartment 6 on the fifth floor somehow failed to calculate the collateral damage it was inflicting on itself.
And is it any wonder that every such controversy becomes a political diversion?
Look how quickly public attention moved away from Shlomi Eldar and Ruti Yuval’s investigation into warnings Netanyahu allegedly received before Oct. 7 and toward a film most of the country had not seen.
Ask the obvious political question: Who benefits when attention shifts from those being questioned over the failures preceding the massacre to the filmmakers describing the war that followed?
With an election approaching, almost anything that diverts attention from the failures attributed by opponents to the current government has political value.
And, as usual, almost nobody in power proposed the one response a country confident in itself should be able to offer immediately: an independent and transparent investigation.
Instead, the familiar order goes something like this: sweeping denial, an aggressive hunt for whoever leaked or spoke, and perhaps, two years later and far from the cameras, an internal review.
Some of the public anger is not really about what was said but where it was said.
In Israel, we are told, dirty laundry should not be washed in Venice. It should be washed quietly at home, preferably by an internal committee nobody has heard of and whose conclusions almost nobody will read.
The problem is that we have been washing it that way for years.
It still isn’t clean.
Opposition leader Yair Lapid was summoned this week for a security briefing with Netanyahu.
About 40 minutes into the meeting, the head of the IDF Planning Directorate and the national security adviser entered the room, while the accountant general joined by phone.
The subject soon became clear: Netanyahu wanted Lapid’s support for reopening the state budget to provide additional funding for defense.
Lapid asked where the money would come from.
His position was straightforward. He supported giving the IDF more money, but said the source could not be another tax increase on Israel’s working middle class and reservists. Instead, he called for cutting coalition funds and money he says is being used to support ultra-Orthodox draft avoidance. Likud rejected his characterization, saying higher-than-expected state revenues meant additional defense spending could be financed without raising taxes.
There is a tendency lately, including in parts of the media that broadly identify with the anti-Netanyahu camp, to belittle Lapid, mock him and even suggest that he should quit.
Not from Netanyahu loyalists. Not from the political right. From his own political neighborhood.
Why?
Whatever one thinks of the state of his party, I cannot think of many Israeli politicians who have parted so gracefully with lawmakers and ministers who decided to leave. There was little bloodletting, few personal attacks, and some of those departing even said they intended to remain connected to the party and continue helping it.
Would that happen with Netanyahu? With Benny Gantz? With Naftali Bennett?
It is also worth remembering who first demonstrated, after years in which it appeared impossible, that Netanyahu could be removed from office and a change government formed, even at considerable personal political cost.
Yet our media culture struggles with such things.
We understand hit lists, feuds and personal destruction. Praising someone? That apparently threatens the sacred principle of “balance.”
We must prove we do not attack only Netanyahu. We are balanced, after all.
Just look at the television panels. Balanced with the precision of a spirit level.
And so every departure from Yesh Atid becomes a “collapse,” an “implosion” or an “abandonment,” followed inevitably by the cheapest pun available: “No future,” a play on the party’s Hebrew name.
The larger opposition camp now faces a problem far bigger than Lapid.
Who, at this stage, is actually willing to put personal ambition aside in order to build an alternative government? Avigdor Liberman? Gadi Eisenkot?
Judging from the behavior of the opposition parties this week, the bloc that speaks about change and repair appears perfectly capable of tearing itself apart before voters ever get the chance to decide.
What a missed opportunity.
And if that happens, nobody should pretend ego had nothing to do with it.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>hy6tsh9yfx</id> 
            <title>Israel and Morocco are redrawing the strategic map of North Africa</title> 
            <description>Analysis: The agreement to upgrade to full embassies is far more than a diplomatic formality; as Morocco deepens its defense co-production with Israel, Algeria severs ties with the UAE, and Spain attempts a delicate balancing act with Algiers, a dynamic new strategic geometry is emerging across the Western Mediterranean</description>
            <author>Amine Ayoub</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2022/09/13/ryOmXhTxi/ryOmXhTxi_0_179_3000_1689_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/hy6tsh9yfx</link>
            <pubDate>Fri, 18 Sep 2026 08:32:39 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>When the agreement was announced on September 16, 2026, following a high-level trilateral meeting in New York involving Israeli Foreign Minister Gideon Sa'ar, Moroccan Foreign Minister Nasser Bourita, and United States officials, the moment marked an unmistakable turning point in Middle Eastern and North African geopolitics. Israel and the Kingdom of Morocco formally agreed to upgrade their respective diplomatic liaison offices to full embassies and appoint official ambassadors. Accompanied by mutually agreed steps to expand direct commercial aviation routes and finalize key bilateral agreements on investment protection and double-taxation prevention by the end of 2026, the decision represented a further step in the evolution of their 2020 normalization framework.
Yet behind the formal diplomatic language lies a vastly broader, far more complex, and highly consequential regional narrative. The upgrade to full embassies is not merely a diplomatic formality or a symbolic gesture. It represents the visible capstone of a profound strategic realignment transforming the Western Mediterranean and North Africa. The diplomatic milestone reflects a shifting regional geometry in which defense industrialization, national energy security, and regional border management are increasingly intertwined across multiple geographic theaters in the Maghreb and Southern Europe, creating new strategic realities for all actors involved.
 
To understand why Jerusalem and Rabat chose this precise moment to formalize their diplomatic status, one must examine the tangible evolution of their security partnership over recent years. What originally began as discreet intelligence sharing and selective military hardware purchases has now matured into a sophisticated, multi-faceted defense-industrial partnership. Morocco is no longer simply an importer of advanced Israeli technology; it is actively integrating, manufacturing, and co-producing military hardware on its own territory as part of a national strategy to modernize its armed forces and build domestic industrial capacity.
The clearest manifestation of this defense collaboration is located in Benslimane, where a specialized industrial facility associated with Israel's BlueBird Aero Systems is producing or being established to produce SpyX loitering munitions. This facility represents a major industrial milestone in Rabat's effort to develop an indigenous military manufacturing sector. Simultaneously, reporting based on satellite imagery indicates that Morocco completed the deployment of the advanced Israeli-made Barak MX air-defense system at the Sidi Yahya air-defense base northeast of Rabat, providing its military forces with a multi-layered defensive shield capable of responding to a wide range of aerial threats.
This deepening military cooperation does not instantly overturn the regional military balance. The International Institute for Strategic Studies (IISS) estimates Algeria's 2026 defense spending at roughly 24.5 billion dollars, compared with about 7.87 billion dollars for Morocco. However, Morocco's growing integration of Israeli air defense, unmanned systems, and networked capabilities is steadily narrowing some of the technological advantages that Algiers historically enjoyed. The expanding defense-industrial relationship gives Jerusalem a durable, long-term strategic presence in the Maghreb and makes Israel an increasingly important security partner for Rabat across North Africa.
While the Israeli-Moroccan security partnership has deepened, the broader Mediterranean landscape has been simultaneously shaped by acute vulnerabilities along Europe's southern perimeter. A dramatic illustration of these fragile dynamics occurred on July 29 and 30, 2026, when more than 70,000 migrants surged into the Spanish enclave of Ceuta from Morocco amid a widespread wave of social-media misinformation. The sudden arrival overwhelmed municipal reception infrastructure and created a severe, unprecedented humanitarian crisis that resulted in at least 94 deaths, forcing European authorities to confront the immediate, systemic fragility of their external border controls.
For observers in Jerusalem and Rabat, the events in Ceuta exposed how heavily Madrid's border security depends on effective cooperation with Rabat. Spain, led by Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez, has found itself attempting a complex diplomatic balancing act in North Africa. In July 2026, Sánchez traveled to Algiers to declare a new phase in bilateral relations, highlighting Algeria as a strategic partner and maintaining crucial natural gas flows during a period when Spanish energy security remained heavily reliant on North African supply pipelines for its domestic power needs.
Yet Madrid's ongoing effort to rebuild ties with Algiers while depending on Moroccan cooperation to manage its external borders underscores the intricate strategic dilemmas facing Southern Europe. Regardless of how essential Algerian natural gas imports are for Spain's domestic energy needs, maintaining stability along Europe's southern border depends heavily on effective cooperation with Rabat. Rather than diminishing Morocco's standing, the migration flashpoint highlighted Rabat's considerable leverage over Western European border security and migration management across the broader Mediterranean region and Southern Europe.
If Madrid faces a delicate balancing act, the military leadership in Algiers confronts a growing sense of strategic encirclement. The December 2020 United States recognition of Moroccan sovereignty over Western Sahara, alongside Morocco's normalization with Israel, fundamentally altered the strategic environment that Algiers had long regarded as favorable to its position on the dispute. Rather than dissipating over time, those deep-seated strategic concerns have intensified as Israeli defense technologies and co-production initiatives have become permanently embedded in Morocco's comprehensive long-term military modernization plans for the decade ahead.
This escalating regional tension reached an unprecedented diplomatic breaking point on September 10, 2026, when Algeria abruptly severed diplomatic relations with the United Arab Emirates. Algiers ordered the Emirati ambassador to depart within 48 hours and announced immediate airspace restrictions on UAE-registered civilian and military aircraft entering Algerian territory, though commercial flights remained exempt through the end of the year. The rupture came amid longstanding, deepening disagreements over Israel, Western Sahara, Abu Dhabi's expansive regional influence, and competing strategic approaches to the Sahel region in West Africa.
 
The diplomatic breakdown between Algiers and Abu Dhabi demonstrates that regional rivalries in North Africa are no longer confined to traditional border disputes. The UAE has consistently supported Morocco's sovereign claims over Western Sahara and invested heavily in infrastructure projects across the Maghreb. The rupture underscored Algiers' growing confrontation with Gulf states whose policies increasingly align with Rabat on Western Sahara and regional economic influence. However, the rupture risks further complicating Algeria's search for stable international partnerships and investment at a time of intensifying regional competition.
In response to its rapidly changing regional environment, Algiers has continued to deepen its strategic relationship with Russia while maintaining diplomatic engagement with other non-Western powers. President Abdelmadjid Tebboune's administration has emphasized strategic dialogue with Moscow as a counterweight to Western influence in North Africa. Yet this diplomatic orientation carries significant risks for Algiers. As Algeria maintains its strategic relationship with Russia, Morocco has consequently become an increasingly important Western partner on security, migration, and counter-terrorism in the Western Mediterranean basin.
For Israel, the September 16 agreement represents the concrete realization of a durable long-term strategic vision. Skeptics of the Abraham Accords frequently argued that regional conflicts and political turbulence in the Middle East would force Arab governments to suspend or dissolve their ties with Israel. The formal transition from temporary liaison offices to full embassies demonstrates that the strategic partnership between Jerusalem and Rabat is firmly anchored in fundamental national security interests that can withstand broader regional volatility.
The formal establishment of full embassies by the end of 2026 will create permanent, highly effective institutional channels for bilateral strategic cooperation. Beyond military co-production and intelligence coordination, the finalized agreements on double-taxation prevention and investment protection provide a durable foundation for private sector growth and cross-border commercial ventures. Furthermore, restoring direct air routes between Israel and Morocco will facilitate greater corporate investment, technological transfer, and bilateral tourism, strengthening the deep historical and cultural ties that bind Israel's vibrant Moroccan Jewish diaspora to the Kingdom.
The broader strategic landscape of North Africa and the Western Mediterranean is rapidly evolving into a dynamic multi-polar environment. It is not a simple division into opposing geopolitical camps, but a fluid arena where Israel, Morocco, Algeria, Spain, the United Arab Emirates, and global powers must navigate overlapping security, economic, and energy interests. The decisive step taken by Jerusalem and Rabat to solidify their relationship demonstrates that their strategic partnership has moved beyond initial normalization to become an increasingly important pillar of the Western Mediterranean's emerging strategic architecture.
Amine Ayoub, a fellow at the Middle East Forum, is a policy analyst and writer based in Morocco. Follow him on X: @amineayoubx</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>rkmicxktmx</id> 
            <title>Israel must capitalize on Saudi Arabia’s predicament </title> 
            <description>Opinion: The US is leaving room for Israel, hoping military cooperation will deepen ties and perhaps lead Saudi Arabia toward some form of Abraham Accords agreement</description>
            <author>Smadar Perry</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2025/11/18/ryhZdVqx11l/ryhZdVqx11l_0_340_2089_1177_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/rkmicxktmx</link>
            <pubDate>Thu, 17 Sep 2026 08:41:19 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>It is easy to imagine IDF Chief of Staff Lt. Gen. Eyal Zamir using the five-hour flight from Ben Gurion Airport to Germany to review the latest profiles of his counterparts in seven Arab countries. It is just as easy to imagine them doing the same.
On paper, Israel has no formal relations with two of those countries, Saudi Arabia and Kuwait, or with Qatar. Beneath the surface, however, contacts exist. The most intriguing encounter was naturally between Zamir and Saudi Chief of Staff Gen. Fayyad bin Hamed al-Ruwaili, who has held his post since 2018, longer than Zamir has held his. The gathering, organized by U.S. Central Command, brought together the military chiefs of Israel, Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, Bahrain, Kuwait, Qatar, Jordan and Egypt.
 
No one leaked details. None of the military chiefs disclosed what was said, even after CENTCOM confirmed the unusual gathering. Because of the secrecy surrounding the talks, it remains unclear exactly how long the meeting lasted. Even the smallest details were coordinated with great care.
Officials in each of the Arab countries will have studied Zamir as closely as Israel studied their military chiefs. Zamir is expected to remain in his post through Israel’s elections, with his term likely to be extended by another year.
Qatar’s presence was particularly noteworthy. It was invited by the Americans despite the controversy in Israel over its dealings with figures close to Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. Oman did not attend as it continues its special role as a mediator between Iran and the Gulf states, an effort that has so far failed to produce a breakthrough despite Muscat’s attempts to advance understandings with Tehran.
The meeting came amid intensifying regional tensions over Iran and the Houthis in Yemen, with Washington declining direct military intervention against the Houthis while offering Saudi Arabia intelligence and targeting assistance.
U.S. President Donald Trump twice rejected requests from Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, widely known as MBS, for direct U.S. military cooperation. Egyptian President Abdel Fattah el-Sissi gave the Saudi crown prince a warm and elaborate welcome, personally meeting him at the airport and accompanying him to Cairo’s Al-Ittihadiya presidential palace. But he carefully rejected MBS’ request to send Egyptian troops to fight the Houthis.
Egypt’s costly history of military intervention in Yemen, particularly its 1960s campaign, was enough for Cairo to give a clear “no” to the Saudi request. MBS had sought to sweeten the proposal by offering hundreds of millions of dollars, perhaps even billions, in exchange for the deployment of Egyptian forces.
Israeli assistance to Saudi Arabia, mediated by CENTCOM, is already beginning to take shape in the form of intelligence cooperation. The challenge extends beyond protecting U.S. military bases and Saudi Aramco’s oil infrastructure. It also includes helping establish an alternative route for Saudi oil exports that would bypass both the Bab el-Mandab Strait and the Strait of Hormuz.
For now, Israel has an opportunity to capitalize on Saudi Arabia’s predicament as Washington stays out of direct military intervention. The United States is leaving greater room for Israel, with the hope that military cooperation could eventually broaden the relationship and perhaps lead Saudi Arabia toward some form of participation in the Abraham Accords.
Jordan should not be overlooked. Its senior representative at the meeting, Maj. Gen. Majdi al-Harasis, was appointed chief of staff only last month. Relations between Saudi Arabia and Jordan are cool. Jordan’s military and intelligence ties with Israel, meanwhile, remain intact despite having undergone unwelcome changes.
The gathering at a secluded resort in Germany, about whose discussions very little is known, was intended to promote cooperation and provide a forum for consultations among Iran’s regional rivals. It was also designed to strengthen military, security and intelligence ties among the participants. CENTCOM said the commanders discussed opportunities to enhance regional security cooperation.
Zamir briefed his Arab counterparts on IDF operations across a growing number of fronts, from Syria and Lebanon to the Gaza Strip and the West Bank, as well as against the Houthis in Yemen.
The meeting suggests that cooperation between Israel and the participating Arab states could expand further, particularly as shared concerns over Iran and the Houthis create new areas of common interest.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>rktiseuygl</id> 
            <title>‘Her eyes keep watching, now from Argentina’  says father of murdered IDF lookout Roni Eshel </title> 
            <description>First person: Those small moments in life when Israel and Argentina are thousands of miles apart, and in an instant the heart feels as though it has not traveled even a single one </description>
            <author>Eyal Eshel</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/09/16/HJfact6DFMx/HJfact6DFMx_0_112_1280_721_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/rktiseuygl</link>
            <pubDate>Wed, 16 Sep 2026 14:42:19 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>Today we all arrived here, Sharon, the children and I, in the city of Córdoba, Argentina, as part of Project Oz by the Jewish Agency and Keren Hayesod. We came here because of Roni.
We came here in memory of all the girls who were there on that cursed morning of October 7. The lookouts, the operations room soldiers. Young women who sat in the command room, watched the screens, warned, identified, reported and did the job they were there to do.
Today, here in Córdoba, we are doing something that moves me to the depths of my soul.
Today, a real observation operations room will open here.
Not a monument. Not a plaque. Not a memorial room.
A living, breathing operations room with screens. With people, for people.
Screens. Cameras. Surveillance systems. And lookouts who will sit here, watch those screens, identify incidents and issue warnings in real time, to protect the large and precious Jewish community that lives here.
From today, this operations room will carry the name of our Roni. The Roni Eshel Operations Room, Córdoba, Argentina.
 
 
 
Roni, my eldest daughter. Roni, who never got the chance to come here.
Roni, who was supposed to keep living, traveling, loving, laughing, cooking, listening to Taylor Swift, sitting with her friends, starting a family and raising children.
Roni, who was a gift, a girl of just 19 years and seven months. Roni, who sat in the operations room at Nahal Oz and was one of the “eyes of the country.”
Roni filled me with pride during her life, and she continues to do so today, with that huge smile of hers, even here in Córdoba, Argentina.
Today, in a way that is almost impossible to grasp, her eyes keep watching.
Not from Nahal Oz. From Córdoba, Argentina.
I stand here as Roni’s father, thousands of miles from home, and feel that my heart is making a journey I never asked to take.
I am carrying Roni with me from Israel all the way to Argentina.
Her smile. Her courage. Her story. The sense of responsibility she carried, and that will never allow us to forget.
There is also great symbolism here in the name Diego, a name that today takes on a new meaning for us.
Diego will continue to watch over the Jews of Córdoba here, in a place where we hope the protection will be better, more alert and, above all, will never allow the kind of disaster we know so painfully well to happen again.
Roni is looking down from above with her smile, as if saying: Mom and Dad, even today you are doing something good for other people.
That is the greatest meaning of Project Oz.
To take the pain we left behind in Israel and turn it into action. To take memory and turn it into protection. To take the names of our girls and turn them into a mission. Roni will never again be able to sit in front of those screens. Because of this project by the Jewish Agency and Keren Hayesod, other girls will sit in front of screens. They will watch, identify, warn and do everything they can to protect people.
And here, this is the small measure of repair we can make in a world that changed for us on October 7.
Today, in Córdoba, I am not only a father who has come to a ceremony in memory of his daughter. I am a father who brings Roni with him and asks her, even if only in my heart: My Roni, keep watching.
You may no longer be here in your body, but today, for the first time, your eyes continue to see. Your smile continues to shine through more and more people. “Do everything with a smile,” you used to tell us, “and everything will be easier.”
Today we are here, and we are smiling a little. We are trying, Roni. Because of you. For you. For everyone who needs someone to watch over them.
In your memory, Roni, beloved of our hearts</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>byefkx00ymg</id> 
            <title>Why bombing alone has failed against the Houthis and what it would take to defeat them</title> 
            <description>Analysis: US and Israeli strikes damaged Houthi leadership and infrastructure but failed to eliminate their military capabilities; with the group expanding along the Red Sea coast, effective ground forces may ultimately be needed</description>
            <author>Ron Ben-Yishai</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/03/28/SkP4pXSiZg/SkP4pXSiZg_0_312_3000_1689_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/byefkx00ymg</link>
            <pubDate>Wed, 16 Sep 2026 13:37:23 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>The Houthis pose a serious threat and a military problem that is far harder to solve than much of the Israeli and international media coverage might suggest. In 2024 and 2025, the United States tried three times, unsuccessfully, to suppress the group through air campaigns. After the third effort, the massive March-April 2025 bombing campaign known as Operation Rough Rider, Washington concluded that it could not defeat the fanatical Shiite Islamist rebels from the air alone.
President Donald Trump therefore declared victory, said the Houthis had promised him they would stop attacking American ships and withdrew US forces from the arena, even though the campaign had not significantly degraded their ability to block the Bab el-Mandeb Strait, strike Saudi and Emirati oil infrastructure with missiles and drones, or launch ballistic missiles nearly 2,000 kilometers toward Israel.
 
The IDF, meaning the Israeli Air Force primarily, achieved somewhat more. It killed a significant part of the Houthis’ political and military leadership in an airstrike and hit the port of Hodeidah, their main maritime supply artery on the Red Sea coast. Israel achieved a degree of deterrence, but it did not destroy the Houthis’ military capabilities, despite claims by Defense Minister Israel Katz. The group stopped firing at Israel only after the ceasefire in Gaza took effect.
The American approach
In Washington, the Houthis, or Ansar Allah, are generally viewed as an Iranian proxy operating in northern Yemen. US officials believe the problem they pose may be resolved after the midterm elections, either if the United States delivers what it sees as a final blow against Iran or if Tehran returns to negotiations with Washington and reaches an agreement over the Strait of Hormuz and the suspension of its nuclear program.
That is why Trump responded only partially to a request from Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, who appealed to him about a week ago for American help in suppressing the Houthi fire directed at Saudi oil facilities and cities along the Red Sea coast. Trump appears to have learned from the failed American campaigns of recent years. Their military results were limited, while the cost of the interceptor missiles fired from US warships and the offensive munitions launched from aircraft was enormous. Those expensive weapons failed to suppress drones and missiles that cost only a fraction as much as the systems used to intercept or destroy them.
 
Trump therefore directed the Saudis, through US Central Command, toward Israel in an effort to improve Saudi targeting intelligence and the operational methods used by the Royal Saudi Air Force. He also refrained from sending additional Patriot and THAAD batteries to Saudi Arabia, knowing that the United States needs to build up its stocks of interceptors and air-defense batteries ahead of a possible major confrontation with Iran, which is likely to come after the US midterm elections. The intelligence support Saudi Arabia already receives from CENTCOM and Israel, however, is not enough.
What it would take to stop the Houthis
Ansar Allah is a fanatical Shiite militia. Its fighters move around in pickup trucks, much as ISIS did when it conquered large parts of the Middle East. The Houthis’ ideological motivation, mobility and relentless battlefield initiative resemble the qualities that once made ISIS so dangerous.
Stopping the Houthis and removing the threat they pose would therefore require reliable ground forces with religious motivation at least as strong as theirs, capable of conducting a major ground maneuver with air support from Western air forces. That is how Shiite and Kurdish militias in Iraq and Syria broke ISIS, with support from American, British, French and Jordanian air power. A similar approach may be the only way to defeat the Houthis.
It is important to note that the Houthis are currently cooperating with another Iranian proxy, the Shiite militias belonging to Iraq’s Popular Mobilization Forces. They now operate a joint war room in Baghdad. The Houthis supplied targets to the Iraqis, who then launched drones that shut down the flow of oil through Saudi Arabia’s east-west pipeline and struck the port of Yanbu.
The Houthis do not follow Tehran’s orders in every respect, but their blockade of the Bab el-Mandeb Strait serves both their own interests and Iran’s. For the Houthis, it is part of their effort to lift the Saudi air blockade imposed on them. For Iran, it also disrupts oil supplies to the global market.
More broadly, the Houthis and their Iraqi Shiite militia partners are likely to pose a growing threat to Egypt as well. Egypt is already losing millions of dollars every day because traffic through the Suez Canal has been crippled since the Houthis established themselves around Bab el-Mandeb, while insurance companies have sharply increased rates for vessels that need to pass through the strait into the Red Sea and onward to the Suez Canal and Eilat Port.
 
The strike on the Saudi oil pipeline reaching Yanbu on the Red Sea also prevents Riyadh from sending its oil through an Egyptian pipeline running from the Red Sea coast to the Alexandria area on the Mediterranean, from where it continues to Europe. That pipeline, known as SUMED, still carries between 2 million and 4 million barrels of Saudi oil a day to Europe.
Egypt is therefore one of the biggest losers from the current situation. That is why the Saudi crown prince traveled there in an effort to persuade Egyptian President Abdel Fattah el-Sisi to join the fight against the Houthis. Egypt has fought in Yemen before. In the 1960s, it became involved in the civil war there and even used chemical weapons, without achieving particularly impressive results.
For Israel, the Houthis threaten more than freedom of navigation to Eilat. They made effective use of the year-long ceasefire that followed the failure of the US campaign and have rebuilt their ability to threaten Israel with ballistic missiles and drones. More recently, their cooperation with Iraqi Shiite militias has also improved their ability to threaten Israel from the east.
In recent weeks, the Houthis have demonstrated a remarkable ability to move forces roughly 2,500 kilometers south along the Red Sea coast, capture the city of Mokha from government forces and take control of Bab el-Mandeb and the islands in the strait.
The army of Yemen’s internationally recognized government, which tried to defend its territory along the Red Sea coast and inside Yemen, collapsed almost immediately. That happened despite the fact that the government army, based in Aden, has an air force and forces heavily equipped with weapons and armored vehicles supplied by Saudi Arabia.
Those forces scattered in the face of Houthi attacks mounted from pickup trucks and ambushes laid for government units as they moved through the area searching for them. The failure of Yemen’s government army marks another Saudi defeat in its long-running effort, together with a coalition, to fight the Houthis.
The Mecca agreement signed by Saudi Arabia with Pakistan and Turkey, which was supposed to function as a defense arrangement, has also failed to deliver what Riyadh had hoped. Pakistan and Turkey issue condemnations when the Houthis attack western Saudi Arabia with drones and ballistic missiles, but beyond that they do little.
Egypt also appears reluctant to send ground forces into Yemen. At most, Cairo may assist the Saudi air force as much as it can, perhaps even by deploying Egyptian fighter jets in exchange for hundreds of millions of dollars in Saudi support for the Egyptian economy.
Israel’s role
Israel, by contrast, can help Saudi Arabia deal with the Houthis. One area is intelligence. Israel can generate targeting information using advanced capabilities, including artificial intelligence, making it an important intelligence partner in the fight against the Houthis.
Israel can also help Saudi Arabia defend against the drones and cruise missiles the Houthis launch at its territory. The Israeli Air Force demonstrated that capability during Operation Roaring Lion, when it intercepted almost 1,000 Iranian drones launched toward Israel. Working together with the Americans, the Air Force succeeded in shooting them all down.
Saudi Arabia has advanced fighter aircraft and intelligence platforms in significant numbers, but it has difficulty operating the system effectively. One reason is that acceptance into Saudi pilot training is largely limited to people close to the royal family and those considered especially loyal. The leadership of the air force is likewise based not necessarily on selecting the best officers, but the most loyal.
Israel cannot spare an Iron Dome battery for Saudi Arabia, even if Riyadh were to reverse its position and agree to normalize relations with Israel without requiring Israel to advance the establishment of a Palestinian state, contrary to the Saudi royal family’s current demand.
The IDF needs every Iron Dome, David’s Sling and Arrow 3 battery ahead of a possible future confrontation with Iran. Israel therefore cannot allocate even part of that array to Saudi Arabia, as it reportedly did in the United Arab Emirates, where, according to foreign reports, an Iron Dome battery was deployed and used to intercept Iranian missiles and drones.
 
At most, Israel can provide detection systems and advise Saudi Arabia on how to deploy its detection, interception and strike capabilities more effectively. Israel can also teach the Saudis how to attack the underground facilities where the Houthis manufacture ballistic missiles, cruise missiles and drones from components smuggled to them from Iran.
The qat-chewing, sandal-wearing fighters often seen in photographs from Yemen are only the photogenic front line. The more dangerous element is the Yemeni military personnel loyal to deposed ruler Ali Abdullah Saleh. Their network also includes engineers, production workers and underground facilities that manufacture weapons and transfer them to tribes loyal to the Houthis, which then hide them in caves until the time comes to launch them.
Israel can help Saudi Arabia locate those underground facilities, their entrances and the tribes’ caves, and seal them, if not destroy them. But its ability to help goes no further than that, and even this is unlikely to be enough to defeat the Houthis.
Ground forces would still be needed to force them to retreat, disperse and return to Saada province in northern Yemen, where the movement originated before expanding southward, capturing Sanaa and taking control of other parts of the country.
For effective ground forces to emerge, Saudi Arabia would first have to stop fighting the force backed by the United Arab Emirates in southern Yemen. That force has demonstrated its ability to fight both the Houthis and other armed groups in Yemen. It was once part of the coalition that succeeded in containing the Houthis, but that coalition fell apart because Saudi Arabia pursued its own political agenda in the country.
Israel hopes an international coalition will eventually be formed that includes European countries harmed by Houthi control of Bab el-Mandeb and by disruptions to Saudi oil exports. But forming such a coalition, and making it effective, will take time.
Until then, the Houthis will remain a problem, in part because they are still able to receive smuggled navigation components and parts needed to operate missiles and drones from Iran. Small vessels crossing the Gulf of Oman and trucks traveling through Iraq continue to bring the Houthis what they need.
As long as that supply line remains open, the problem will not be solved.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>bjp1qtwkzl</id> 
            <title>Iran is moving West. Israel should be watching Africa</title> 
            <description>Opinion: Tehran’s activity in Mauritania, Sudan and the Red Sea points to a strategic reality Israel cannot afford to ignore: Iran’s regional battlefield is no longer confined to the Middle East</description>
            <author>Amine Ayoub</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/09/16/H10w3KvtGe/H10w3KvtGe_0_33_1536_865_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/bjp1qtwkzl</link>
            <pubDate>Wed, 16 Sep 2026 06:27:24 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>When the government of Mauritania summoned Iran’s ambassador, Javad Abu Ali Akbar, in the capital city of Nouakchott on September 14, 2026, the diplomatic dispute attracted little visible attention in Israel. In the constant noise of domestic political debates, northern border tensions and the ongoing direct confrontation with regional proxy forces, a diplomatic dispute on the distant Atlantic edge of the Sahara barely registered in public conversation. 
The official statement from Nouakchott cited activities inconsistent with diplomatic norms and national sovereignty, following the ambassador’s unannounced visit to a rural village in the Trarza region, where local news reporting indicated that three individuals were subsequently detained in connection with the encounter. While the full background of Iranian outreach in the country remains opaque, this public reprimand was not a trivial incident. The public rebuke is notable because it shows that Mauritania is willing to draw a visible line around the activities of a foreign diplomat. It served as a distinct and timely signal coming directly from a sovereign nation that once held formal diplomatic relations with Israel and occupies a strategic position at the crossroads of North Africa and the Sahel.
 
For several decades, Israeli national defense and strategic planning have operated under a tight geographic framework focused primarily on immediate regional borders. Defense leadership concentrates heavily on the immediate array of hostile forces constructed by Tehran: Hezbollah in Lebanon to the north, armed militias in Syria to the northeast, powerful proxy groups in Iraq to the east, the Houthis in Yemen to the south, and Hamas in Gaza. This traditional perspective on regional threat architecture is dangerously incomplete. While public attention remains constantly fixed on the immediate Levant and the Persian Gulf, Iran has demonstrated an ability to exploit state fragility and conflict outside its traditional theaters, and Sudan shows how that approach can intersect with African instability. From the shores of the Red Sea to the vast expanses of North Africa, separate diplomatic and security developments risk becoming strategically connected over time if left unmonitored.
Consider the operational evidence that has emerged from Sudan. As the country endures a devastating internal war, Iranian military equipment has become a notable factor on the battlefield. Sudanese Armed Forces units have repeatedly deployed Iranian-made unmanned aerial vehicles, including Mohajer-6 combat drones, to target opposition forces. Detailed reports from Human Rights Watch and major international news agencies have documented the operational presence of these Iranian drone systems. The military relationship suggests that Tehran sees strategic value in maintaining influence in Sudan. Previous reporting indicated that Iran sought a permanent naval presence or dual-use logistical access at Port Sudan in exchange for military assistance. Although Sudanese authorities rejected that proposal and both sides publicly denied any base agreement, Iran's military relationship with Sudan keeps the question of whether Tehran could eventually seek durable Red Sea access strategically relevant.
A permanent Iranian naval presence or maritime intelligence facility on the Sudanese coast would alter the balance of power along critical maritime corridors. Combined with Houthi territorial pressure near the Bab el-Mandeb strait, an expanded Iranian footprint in Sudan would give Tehran and its partners a far more dangerous ability to pressure both sides of this vital gateway. Israel’s economic exposure to Red Sea volatility is often misunderstood in public debate. Even with limited direct export volume on Red Sea lanes, Bank of Israel analysis indicates that direct sea exports to Asia and Oceania account for roughly five percent of total Israeli goods exports, yet disruptions along this route carry major secondary economic consequences. Forced ship diversions around the entire African continent sharply increase transit durations, elevate global maritime freight rates, and raise insurance costs. On routes such as China to Israel, rerouting around the Cape of Good Hope increases shipping distances by up to one hundred and fourteen percent, significantly delaying critical commercial imports.
Prominent regional heavyweights fully understand the wider strategic implications of these ongoing maritime security developments. On September 15, 2026, Egyptian President Abdel Fattah al-Sisi and Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman met publicly and explicitly stressed the vital importance of securing freedom of navigation through the Bab el-Mandeb strait and the Red Sea. Egyptian security leadership in Cairo has consistently treated Red Sea security as part of a much broader regional dynamic. In March 2026, Cairo hosted the first European Union-Egypt Security and Defence Dialogue, placing maritime security in the Red Sea, Yemen, Sudan, and the Horn of Africa at the center of discussions. By June 2026, the European Union approved a twenty million euro security assistance package dedicated specifically to enhancing Egyptian maritime capabilities in both the Mediterranean and the Red Sea. Furthermore, Egypt has also maintained security consultations with European partners as it confronts the wider instability affecting the Red Sea, Horn of Africa and Mediterranean. Cairo recognizes a reality that Jerusalem must acknowledge: instability in the Red Sea, North Africa, and the Sahel is deeply interconnected.
Tehran’s broader approach relies on an opportunistic operational method seen in other parts of the world. Iran does not typically begin its regional interventions with massive conventional military deployments. Instead, it systematically identifies vulnerable state structures, economic distress, and ongoing internal conflicts. In these environments, Iranian representatives offer affordable weapons technology, military training, drone hardware, and diplomatic support. In return, Tehran seeks intelligence presence, commercial leverage, and potential logistical options for the future. The history of Hezbollah, the Syrian network and the Houthis demonstrates why early Iranian involvement deserves scrutiny before a limited relationship becomes a durable security infrastructure. In the early stages of those regional interventions, analysts frequently dismissed Iranian activity as secondary, marginal, or ineffective. Decades later, the State of Israel faces complex multi-front operational challenges that have grown out of those earlier footholds. Allowing similar operational patterns to take root in vulnerable African states would represent a severe strategic error.
 
The potential implications for Israeli national security are direct and serious. An expanded Iranian influence footprint in Africa creates distinct security risks. Historically, volatile North African transport corridors running through Sudan and the Sinai Peninsula served as major supply lines for hostile groups in Gaza and the West Bank. If Iranian logistical presence in Sudan consolidates over time, those smuggling channels could become reactivated with more sophisticated weaponry. Additionally, an expanded Iranian operational and intelligence presence across North and West Africa increases tangible risks for soft targets, including Israeli diplomatic personnel, commercial representatives, and travelers across the continent. Furthermore, any expansion of Iranian influence in these theaters could complicate Israel's security relationships and the broader regional integration represented by the Abraham Accords. Morocco and Sudan were central African participants in the historic normalization process, although Sudan’s integration remained incomplete due to its internal crisis and the unratified 2020 normalization accord.
While the full scope of Iranian activity in Mauritania remains opaque and a permanent naval base in Sudan is not secured, the pattern of arms transfers, diplomatic friction, and opportunistic footholds is visible and consistent with Tehran’s established methods. Passively waiting for full proxy networks to materialize on the ground before taking action is a deeply flawed national defense posture. Israel must adopt a proactive African strategy centered on three clear operational pillars. First, Israel must significantly enhance intelligence gathering and maritime surveillance across the Red Sea, the Horn of Africa, and North Africa to monitor potential illicit maritime transfers and covert logistics. Second, Israel must deepen defense and intelligence collaboration with African states that actively resist foreign subversion, offering actionable security insights and defensive technologies. Third, Israel should align its strategic posture with Western and regional partners, supporting international initiatives that protect freedom of navigation and maritime stability.
The recent diplomatic warning in Mauritania and the documented use of Iranian drone technology in Sudan are clear indicators of an evolving regional security landscape. Iran is moving west, and the State of Israel must watch Africa very closely right now.
Amine Ayoub, a fellow at the Middle East Forum, is a policy analyst and writer based in Morocco. Follow him on X: @amineayoubx</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>sjpmpopyml</id> 
            <title>After Sweida massacre, Syria’s Druze deserve autonomy</title> 
            <description>Opinion: More than a year after deadly violence shattered trust in Damascus, Syria’s Druze still face insecurity and shortages; Israel should provide humanitarian aid and support their demand for self-government</description>
            <author>Einav Halabi</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2025/08/01/SJNkohc5Dgg/SJNkohc5Dgg_0_147_1280_721_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/sjpmpopyml</link>
            <pubDate>Wed, 16 Sep 2026 05:28:18 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>Since July 2025, the Druze community in Sweida, southern Syria, has been living through an unbearable reality. But beyond the siege, the shortage of medicine, the disruption of basic infrastructure and the constant fear of further attacks, something much deeper has been broken: trust.
For the Druze in Sweida, the question is no longer simply how to live within Syria, but how they can feel that they belong to a state that massacred them.
 
July 2025 was not a passing event. People were killed, women were raped, civilians were abducted and homes were looted. There is documentation and testimony showing that the perpetrators included members of Syria’s General Security forces, acting on behalf of the Syrian authorities, as well as militias operating alongside them. And today, more than a year later, there has still been no genuine accountability, no apology and no reckoning.
Perhaps the world has already moved on. The Druze in Sweida have not. They are still paying the price.
Sweida remains under siege. Only limited quantities of medicine are entering the area, and those who are sick and require treatment unavailable locally may find themselves facing a life-or-death situation. There have also been cases of people who left Sweida for Damascus and were abducted or detained, while their families still do not know what happened to them.
This is not security. This is not a state that can be trusted. And then there is the question of the children.
The authorities in Damascus demanded that students from Sweida leave the area to sit for various examinations rather than take them within their own communities. How can parents be expected to send their children to places where they do not feel safe?
 
The 34 Druze villages that were seized and placed under the control of forces affiliated with the authorities in Damascus are also part of this reality. The authorities refuse to withdraw from them.
And yet, that same regime is now seeking legitimacy from the international community.
The West wants stability. European countries, among other things, want to create conditions that would allow Syrian refugees who arrived in Europe to return home. France, Germany and other countries want to see a functioning Syrian state with which they can engage.
But Europe's desire to solve the refugee crisis cannot come at the expense of the Druze.
The fact that many countries are willing to recognize and engage with the authorities in Damascus does not make them a government that the Druze can trust.
 
We must remember who is leading Syria and where he came from. Ahmad al-Sharaa, also known as Abu Mohammad al-Julani, was previously the leader of Jabhat al-Nusra, an organization affiliated with al-Qaeda in Syria. The United States had previously offered a reward of up to $10 million for information leading to his capture. Today, he seeks to present himself as the legitimate leader of a new Syria.
But a change in image does not erase the past. For Israel, there is also a direct security dimension. Sweida lies in southern Syria, 70 km from Israel's border. Any change in the balance of power in this area has a direct impact on Israel's security.
I do not ignore the anti-Israel chants or the expressions of support for Gaza and Hamas, including calls made by forces associated with the Syrian military. Syria is a ticking time bomb for Israel, just as Yahya Sinwar tried to lull Israelis into complacency before October 7, only to lead an unprecedented terrorist attack and massacre.
Precisely because this area lies just across our border, Israel must understand what is happening there. Israel must not place blind trust in the authorities in Damascus.
The Druze in southern Syria need protection. Israel was the only country in the world that saved the Druze as their spiritual leader, Sheikh Hikmat al-Hajri, himself has said. He insists that after the massacre of his people, he understood that the Syrian authorities could not be trusted.
 
They also need humanitarian assistance. At present, they have no other actor capable of providing the security and support they need.
The connection between the Druze in Israel and the Druze in Syria goes beyond religion. It is also familial. It is a bond of solidarity and mutual responsibility.
That is why I believe Israel must continue assisting the Druze in southern Syria not merely through declarations, but through tangible humanitarian aid.
Food, medicine and medical equipment must be allowed to reach them. Israel should also examine the possibility of establishing a humanitarian corridor that would enable Druze communities in Israel to provide assistance to their brothers and sisters across the border.
And in my view, it is time to seriously discuss the solution that the Druze themselves are demanding: autonomy.
If the Druze in Sweida do not want to return to life under centralized rule from Damascus, their voices must be heard. A model of self-government, international guarantees and protection for the community should be considered a model that would allow the Druze to manage their own affairs while preserving their security and identity.
The Druze are a unique minority, with deep historical, familial and spiritual ties to the Druze community in Israel and to the Jewish people. The Druze have survived for centuries because they have protected their identity, their community and one another.
They deserve to survive in Sweida, too.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>ryk8c5iyfx</id> 
            <title>‘NAZA’ puts the IDF on trial over Gaza, but leaves out how Hamas fought the war</title> 
            <description>Analysis: The film portrays Gaza’s civilian toll as evidence of deliberate IDF policy, but any serious judgment must also confront Hamas’ human-shield strategy, 800-km tunnel network and the legal and operational realities of urban war in Gaza</description>
            <author>Guy Hazoot</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/09/15/Hy8IDL8Ffx/Hy8IDL8Ffx_0_0_850_479_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/ryk8c5iyfx</link>
            <pubDate>Tue, 15 Sep 2026 13:45:56 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>The debate sparked by the documentary NAZA goes far beyond the battle over Israel’s image. At its heart is a question that will confront every democracy forced to fight a terrorist organization that places its fighters, headquarters, weapons and infrastructure inside a civilian population: How can such an enemy be fought while protecting your own civilians and soldiers, and at the same time meeting the legal and moral obligation to minimize harm to civilians on the other side?
Serious accusations demand a serious response. It is not enough to attack the filmmakers, denounce them or call them traitors. Such reactions do not refute their claims. They only help portray Israeli society as unwilling to confront criticism. The proper response must be based on facts, context, international law and a professional analysis of battlefield realities.
 
At the same time, Israeli politicians, opinion leaders and media figures should stop calling for Gaza’s complete destruction or making statements that fail to distinguish between terrorists and civilians. Beyond the moral flaw in such rhetoric, it harms Israel and IDF soldiers by providing ammunition to those who argue that Palestinian civilian suffering was an objective rather than a grave consequence of the war forced upon Israel.
Disclosure and the limits of this discussion
I have not seen the full film, which has not yet been made available for viewing in Israel after its creators chose to present it first to the international community. I have watched published excerpts and read interviews with the filmmakers and detailed reviews by viewers, including favorable ones. This article therefore does not claim to review every scene, but to answer the film’s central arguments as presented by its creators and described in published accounts.
According to those descriptions, filmmakers Yuval Abraham and Rachel Shor argue that the widespread killing of Palestinian civilians was not the result of mistakes, exceptional cases or the harsh realities of combat, but of a deliberate systemic policy that they believe could amount to genocide.
Through anonymous testimony from soldiers and intelligence personnel, the film reportedly describes a targeting system based on digital surveillance and artificial intelligence. It alleges that human oversight of some processes was inadequate, that people were designated as targets and attacked in their homes while family members were present, and that strikes were approved even when large numbers of civilian casualties were expected.
The film also reportedly raises allegations of civilians being shot in areas whose boundaries were unclear, harm near aid distribution points, destruction intended to force the population southward and the restriction of food and use of hunger as a means of pressure. Its creators attribute responsibility not only to individual soldiers, but to the chain of command, the military establishment, Israel’s political leadership and Israeli society and media.
These are grave allegations that join the intense international criticism directed at Israel throughout the war. Precisely because they are so serious, they must be examined rigorously rather than accepted as established fact simply because they appear in a documentary.
The numbers speak for themselves
The number of people killed in Gaza, their identities and the breakdown between combatants and civilians remain disputed. Figures published by the Hamas-run Health Ministry in Gaza do not fully distinguish between military operatives and civilians, while Israeli estimates of the number of Hamas and Palestinian Islamic Jihad terrorists killed also require substantiation and detail.
For the sake of argument, take the figure of 75,000 Palestinian dead cited by Hamas authorities and the IDF figure of 25,000 terrorists killed. That would produce a ratio of one combatant to two civilians.
In my view, that 1:2 ratio in itself contradicts the claim that the numbers demonstrate war crimes or an intent to exterminate a population. The ratio is an important element in assessing the nature of the campaign and comparing it with other wars fought by Western militaries in densely populated urban areas, where civilian-to-combatant casualty ratios have reached 9:1. Even if we were to cut the IDF’s estimate of terrorists killed in half, the ratio between civilians and terrorists would still compare favorably with other Western militaries.
At first glance, the numbers alone might appear enough to end the discussion. But accusations this serious require a broader and more detailed answer.
The missing variable: Hamas’ strategy
The central weakness in the accusations against Israel presented in the film is that they place full responsibility for the war’s consequences on Israel without giving sufficient weight to Hamas’ method of warfare.
Hamas does not merely operate near civilians. For years it built its military power inside civilian space: tunnels beneath neighborhoods, weapons inside buildings, positions near public institutions and the use of the population as a screen that restricts Israel’s freedom of action.
 
None of this releases the IDF from its obligations. Even when the enemy violates international law and uses civilians as human shields, the attacking side remains bound by the principles of distinction, precautions and proportionality.
But the results of the war cannot be analyzed as if Hamas were a passive actor or as if the placement of its military infrastructure in the heart of the civilian population were not part of a deliberate strategy.
If responsibility for every civilian casualty is always placed exclusively on the attacking military, without regard for the conduct of the defending organization, a dangerous incentive is created: The more deeply a terrorist organization embeds itself within its population and the more it endangers civilians, the greater the likelihood that it will gain operational immunity and international legitimacy.
That is the human-shield paradox, and Israel will not be the only country forced to confront it.
There is no surgical war in an urban battlefield
Western international discourse often assumes that there is a “surgical” method for reaching every target and that if civilians were harmed, a cleaner alternative must necessarily have existed. In my professional experience, that assumption does not always survive the realities of combat.
Close-range fighting in an area saturated with explosives, snipers, anti-tank squads and tunnels can require heavy fire precisely when troops become entangled and face an immediate threat to their lives. At times, a planned airstrike based on intelligence and an assessment of expected collateral damage can be more precise than a ground battle unfolding amid uncertainty.
Using airpower is therefore not necessarily “operational laziness.” Sometimes it is the way to complete a mission while reducing the danger to troops.
But the need to protect soldiers is not an unlimited license. Every operation still requires an assessment of the target, the alternatives, the expected civilian harm and the concrete military advantage anticipated.
The very choice of the film’s name, NAZA, the Hebrew military acronym for collateral damage, itself points to the existence of such assessment processes inside the IDF.
What proportionality actually means
The principle of proportionality in international law does not compare the total number of people killed on each side. Nor does a high number of civilian casualties by itself prove that a strike was unlawful.
The legal question is whether, based on the information available to those making the decision before the attack, the expected incidental civilian harm could be anticipated to be excessive in relation to the concrete and direct military advantage expected from the operation.
That means each strike must be examined according to its specific circumstances: What was the military target? What was its value? What information was available? What harm was expected? What precautions were taken? Was there a practical alternative expected to cause less harm?
The result matters and may justify investigation, but it cannot replace an examination of the decision-making process as it existed in real time.
Artificial intelligence does not absolve humans
The use of AI-based tools in intelligence and target selection requires strict supervision. A computer system bears neither legal nor moral responsibility. Responsibility remains with the human beings who authorize an operation.
In the IDF, AI-based systems are intelligence-support tools. The final decision to carry out a strike is made by an officer, with a human in the loop, who weighs the military value against the anticipated collateral damage on the basis of the information available at that moment.
Humanitarian efforts and the gap between intent and outcome
The IDF invested an extraordinary effort in humanitarian measures, including warning calls, leaflets and the establishment of the Salah al-Din route as a humanitarian corridor. Western armies have not previously devoted such extensive resources to communicating directly with an enemy population in order to move civilians away from combat zones.
Israel also facilitated humanitarian assistance into Gaza on a scale far beyond what would normally be expected from a country at war. Palestinian civilians were gravely harmed, in my view, by Hamas’ seizure of aid trucks and exploitation of their contents.
 
Central Gaza and, for long periods, Gaza City itself included areas where the IDF did not conduct major ground maneuvers, while airstrikes there were carried out selectively in an effort to avoid civilian casualties.
The percentage of those killed inside areas designated as humanitarian zones in central Gaza was significantly lower, around 2% to 3.5% of the total death toll. In my view, that points to a deliberate Israeli effort to avoid strikes in those areas despite Hamas’ attempts to use them as shelter, and is further evidence against the claim of an extermination policy.
The moral paradox of risking soldiers
The argument is sometimes made that by authorizing attacks with high anticipated collateral damage, the IDF prioritized the lives of its soldiers over those of Palestinian civilians.
Expecting the IDF to sacrifice its soldiers in order to save enemy civilians is not only unrealistic, but also raises a moral problem toward the citizens and soldiers of its own country. Every government has an unwritten contract with its citizens and troops that requires it to protect their lives.
Demanding that an army choose tactics that significantly increase the number of its own soldiers killed is a demand no democracy can sustain over time.
The underground war against Gaza’s ‘metro’
Under Hamas, Gaza became an urban fortress. This is the elephant in the room that, in my view, both the filmmakers and much of the international community ignore.
The IDF faced an estimated 800 kilometers of interconnected tunnels beneath civilian homes, one of the most formidable challenges confronted by a Western military in the modern era.
The tunnels transformed virtually any civilian structure into a potential military target because it could conceal a tunnel shaft or underground command post. That fundamentally changed calculations of collateral damage.
Hamas’ underground “metro” effectively transformed Gaza from an ordinary civilian environment into a military fortress and forced commanders to make extraordinarily difficult operational decisions that inevitably caused damage to infrastructure.
Alongside the tunnels, Hamas booby-trapped tens of thousands of civilian buildings, including schools and kindergartens. In the IDF’s operational learning process, we examined this pattern and found that mosques, schools, clinics and UNRWA facilities were statistically among the structures frequently encountered as booby-trapped sites.
The scale of the explosives threat required the IDF to use substantial firepower to protect its soldiers, increasing physical destruction. The tunnels and booby-trapped buildings turned civilian space itself into a weapon.
The systematic destruction of homes used by terrorists also reflected the fact that such structures were used not only for weapons storage but for combat.
What alternative did the IDF have other than to dismantle the military environment from which the October 7 attackers emerged?
Israel was not fighting thousands of miles from home
Unlike expeditionary wars fought by Western states thousands of miles from their borders, the Gaza war was fought against a direct threat to Israeli civilians.
It began after the October 7 massacre, the abduction of civilians and soldiers and continuing rocket fire at Israeli communities.
That does not exempt Israel from the laws of war, but it is essential to understanding Israel’s perception of the threat and the way operational decisions were made.
For Israel, this was not a war of choice or an intervention in a distant theater. It was a war to remove a threat that had demonstrated both its capability and its intention to attack the Israeli population directly.
The strategic absurdity of the war
One of the principal reasons Israel failed to topple Hamas rule in Gaza was Hamas’ takeover of humanitarian aid that Israel facilitated in order to prevent a humanitarian crisis, including famine.
In other words, Israel’s strategic failure in Gaza stemmed in part from something almost unprecedented in war: A country that was attacked, whose civilians were murdered, raped and kidnapped, continued throughout the conflict to facilitate water, food, medicine and energy for the population governed by the side that attacked it.
Despite that paradox, Israel is still accused of genocide and deliberate starvation.
International proceedings against Israel have cited statements by Israeli politicians and media figures calling for Gaza’s destruction or blurring the distinction between terrorists and civilians.
Even when those speakers had no operational authority and their statements did not reflect actual orders or policy, they handed Israel’s critics valuable material.
Those statements must stop. They are morally wrong, diplomatically damaging and can be used in attempts to prove an intent that does not necessarily emerge from military conduct itself.
Anyone who wants to defend IDF soldiers and Israel’s legitimacy must understand that words also have strategic and legal consequences.
The debate is about the future of counterterrorism
Israel must seriously examine every credible allegation of unlawful conduct, professional failure or harm that could have been prevented. Criticism and investigation are not signs of weakness. They are part of the strength of a democracy and a professional military.
The IDF established such a mechanism under retired Maj. Gen. Yoav Har-Even. It examined hundreds of incidents during the war and, where suspected irregularities were identified, recommended opening formal investigations.
 
The IDF’s broader response to the doctrine of using civilians as human shields deserves, in my view, study and praise rather than condemnation.
For the past two decades, the IDF prepared for war against the terrorist armies of Hamas and Hezbollah, which built their capabilities around an offset doctrine: compensating for Israel’s superiority in airpower, intelligence and ground maneuver by exploiting civilian populations in Lebanon and Gaza as human shields and turning civilian urban areas into military fortresses.
Assuming Israel intends to remain part of the democratic Western world, this strategy was designed to place it in an almost impossible position. Hamas and Hezbollah sought to offset Israeli battlefield superiority by embedding themselves among civilians while also developing the ability to seize territory close to Israel’s borders.
The threat posed by those terrorist armies in Lebanon and Gaza was direct, broad and dangerous to the lives of thousands of Israelis. Under certain scenarios, it could even have developed into a threat to the existence of the state.
Some of the accusations directed at Israel over its conduct in Gaza have relied, in my view, on false reports and manipulation by Hamas, double standards toward Israel and no small amount of antisemitism.
The filmmakers, as Israelis, presumably cannot simply be dismissed on those grounds. That makes their allegations more dangerous, not less, and makes answering them seriously all the more important.
For years, Israel and the IDF avoided a decisive war against the terrorist armies of Hamas and Hezbollah. Israel contained the threats from north and south for nearly two decades even as the danger to its security grew.
Israel did not initiate the Gaza war despite a threat that had become increasingly dangerous to its national security. The policy of containment was a mistaken Israeli conception that Hamas exploited, leading to the October 7 massacre.
Despite that massacre, Israel employed in Gaza a war machine that constrained itself in an effort to prevent a humanitarian catastrophe among enemy civilians and, wherever possible, avoid harming innocents.
For Israel’s critics and the creators of NAZA, that is still not enough.
From their perspective, as I see it, some 2,000 dead in Israel is a small number when set against the destruction in Gaza and the scale of Palestinian civilian casualties.
But the audiences who applauded the film for 25 minutes do not live in the Middle East and are not familiar with the laws of the jungle that govern this region.
October 7 had to carry a price of defeat for Palestinian society, not through the killing of innocent people, but through the destruction of the military fortress built by those who planned and carried out the massacre: the military infrastructure above and below ground in Gaza, built directly on Israel’s border rather than thousands of miles away.
No society can survive if it acts differently.
That is why the IDF’s methods in Gaza had not only a professional justification, proven on the battlefield, but a moral one as well.

Brig. Gen. (res.) Guy Hazoot is a senior researcher at the Institute for National Security Studies and former head of the IDF’s operational learning directorate</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>rjce7lukgx</id> 
            <title>Israel cannot repeat past Lebanon withdrawals before Hezbollah’s infrastructure is dismantled</title> 
            <description>Opinion: Destroying 5 kilometers of tunnels with 1,100 tons of explosives shows why Hezbollah’s underground network cannot be neutralized from the air and why Israel must hold ground until the threat is dismantled</description>
            <author>Asher Ben Lulu</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/09/11/rJWQ81m11Yfe/rJWQ81m11Yfe_0_167_1601_901_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/rjce7lukgx</link>
            <pubDate>Tue, 15 Sep 2026 08:14:52 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>The destruction of Hezbollah’s tunnel network on the Ali Taher Ridge was a major operational achievement, and it was made possible by the decision not to withdraw from southern Lebanon.
Without a prolonged presence on the ground, it is doubtful that the IDF could have destroyed underground routes stretching a combined five kilometers in a complex engineering operation involving 1,100 tons of explosives.
 
The tunnels on Ali Taher are only one part of a far broader system. Over decades, Hezbollah built thousands of underground sites and facilities across southern Lebanon, transforming the area into a fortified zone that is extremely difficult to neutralize from the air.
The operation points to three central conclusions: some military systems can only be exposed and dismantled through a sustained presence on the ground; there is currently no other force capable of doing this in Israel’s place; and dismantling Hezbollah requires a prolonged, methodical and consistent campaign.
Hezbollah’s failure to rescue the terrorists trapped in the underground system added an important psychological dimension to the achievement and exposed the organization’s current weakness inside Lebanon as well.
During the years when I became deeply familiar with this terrain as a commander in the IDF Northern Command, Ali Taher was far more than a dominant ridge overlooking the Beaufort Castle.
It was a key to understanding the military system Hezbollah had built in southern Lebanon.
Its importance stems from its commanding position over the border region. It was also a significant component of Hezbollah’s command-and-control system for its plan to invade the Galilee.
 
Holding the ridge also affects the Litani River area, threatens Hezbollah’s rear around Nabatieh and enables Israeli forces to expand operations farther north.
The system uncovered on Ali Taher is not exceptional. It is part of a broader doctrine Hezbollah developed to offset the IDF’s advantages.
There is no shortcut to dismantling systems like these.
It requires precise intelligence, infantry and combat engineering troops, meticulous examination of the terrain and, above all, time.
Even air and intelligence superiority cannot produce the same results as a physical presence on the ground.
The ceasefire has placed Israel in a complex reality.
Despite the severe blows Hezbollah has suffered, withdrawing without dismantling its infrastructure and preventing its reconstruction could bring Israel back within a few years to another confrontation with an even more lethal organization.
Nor can the Iranian dimension be separated from the decision.
According to published reports, the Ali Taher tunnel system was built with Iranian funding and guidance. The possibility of another escalation with Iran was therefore part of the calculation surrounding its destruction.
That is precisely why dismantling the threat was the correct decision.
Fear of Iran must not prevent Israel from removing the threat hanging over residents of the north.
A strategic objective
Disarming Hezbollah is a strategic objective for Israel.
To achieve it, Israel must dismantle the system that enables Hezbollah to fight: command centers, weapons depots and the infrastructure used to move and conceal forces.
Destroying the Ali Taher complex is one step in that effort, and its success will also be measured by Israel’s ability to prevent Hezbollah from rebuilding what has been destroyed.
Hezbollah, like Hamas, built its doctrine around the assumption that Israel is capable of waging an intense war but not a prolonged one.
From their perspective, simply surviving until IDF forces leave is an achievement.
On Ali Taher, one of the most heavily fortified positions in Lebanon, that equation was broken.
The tunnels designed to protect Hezbollah terrorists became a death trap for them.
A prolonged ground presence carries risks and places a heavy burden on both the standing army and reserve forces.
But systematically dismantling infrastructure, while preventing residents from returning to villages before the area is cleared, could reduce both the danger and the number of troops required over time.
The lesson from Ali Taher is clear: residents should not be allowed to return to villages in territory seized by Israel until the military infrastructure has been dismantled and until the Lebanese Armed Forces are actually enforcing the disarmament of Hezbollah in southern Lebanon.
In the current campaign, the IDF is operating differently from what Hezbollah expected.
After dealing the organization severe blows, and despite the complexity and the cost, the IDF continues to hold territory in Lebanon, effectively neutralizing the infiltration threat while methodically dismantling infrastructure that Hezbollah spent years digging deep underground.
This time, Israel is not rushing to withdraw and is not repeating the mistakes of the past.
It is an opportunity that must not be missed if Israel wants to create a deep and lasting change in the security of its northern communities.

Asher Ben Lulu is a retired IDF brigadier general, former chief of staff of the Northern Command and CEO of Ashbal, a strategic project management company</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>h1j08hitfx</id> 
            <title>Israel is losing the genocide propaganda war. It is time to expose Hamas instead</title> 
            <description>Opinion: Israel is losing the propaganda war by endlessly rebutting genocide claims; it should go on offense by confronting global audiences with Hamas leaders’ own extremist rhetoric and ideology</description>
            <author>Ben-Dror Yemini</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/09/12/r1ZORfQFzg/r1ZORfQFzg_0_0_3000_1688_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/h1j08hitfx</link>
            <pubDate>Tue, 15 Sep 2026 07:26:26 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>The truth is losing. No factual study showing that there was no genocide will help. Neither will a graph based on Hamas’ own list of the dead, not the IDF’s, showing that most of those killed were men of fighting age.
Nor does it seem to matter that credible estimates of those killed in the U.S.-led “war on terror” between 2001 and 2018 found that close to 70% were civilians, while almost no one seriously argued that those wars amounted to genocide.
 
None of it will help, because as long as we, myself included, remain busy disproving every lie and accusation, the outcome is predetermined.
A film like NAZA is only one example in a much wider industry of falsehoods. Its title refers not only to the Hebrew abbreviation for collateral damage, but also plainly evokes the word “Nazi.”
They have not only defeated Israel. They have defeated the truth. They have defeated the free world.
This is yet another demonstration that we are living deep inside an age of propaganda and lies. A modern blood libel has been successfully spread because facts no longer matter.
Claims of genocide were already being made roughly a week after October 7. Those making them did not wait for casualty figures. They did not need facts or evidence.
They invented a narrative, and an enormous collection of useful idiots, political activists, journalists, influencers, social-media bullies and people who call themselves researchers, some with Qatari funding and some without, joined in.
Let there be no mistake: innocent people were harmed.
As witnesses in the film themselves say, the IDF attacked military targets in buildings where civilians were also present. International law does not automatically prohibit an attack on a military target because civilians are nearby.
Article 28 of the Fourth Geneva Convention states that the presence of protected persons may not be used to render certain points or areas immune from military operations. Additional Protocol I also permits attacks on military objectives whose destruction offers a definite military advantage.
But none of that appears in the film, or in the broader narrative surrounding the war.
We are in the age of propaganda.
Yes, innocent civilians were killed. Fewer, I would argue, than in many wars waged by Western militaries in recent decades. But who needs facts when propaganda is enough?
A film such as NAZA is just one entry in a long series of distortions. The real defeat is not merely Israel’s. It is the defeat of truth itself.
The real mistake
There is another point that must be acknowledged, and it may be the central one.
The people driving this industry of falsehood exhaust us with demonstrations, accusations, articles, declarations, performances and films about a genocide that did not happen.
Those who want to present the truth spend their time endlessly rebutting them.
That battle is lost before it begins.
There are many propagandists and relatively few people answering them. The propagandists win.
This does nothing to help Palestinians. It does not advance reconciliation or peace. Quite the opposite. It advances hatred.
It is an own goal by a world that is supposed to be free.
But herd mentality rules. This is the fashion of the moment.
Anyone who produces another film serving Hamas propaganda is not being courageous. They already know they will receive minutes of applause from people who know about this conflict roughly as much as they know about growing lettuce on the moon.
So where is the great failure?
It is that those who support the truth remain on defense instead of going on offense.
The much bigger story is that one branch of radical Islam, backed by Iran and the Muslim Brotherhood, has spent decades preaching the murder of Christians, Jews and Hindus.
Its objective is not freedom. It is not liberation. It is not anti-colonialism.
Its objective, as Hamas leaders have said in their own voices, like the leaders of ISIS and other radical Islamist movements, is the conquest of the entire world.
“The goal is not Palestine,” senior Hamas official Mahmoud al-Zahar said on the Houthis’ television channel less than a year before October 7. “The goal is the entire 512 million square kilometers of the world.”
That is the ideology voiced by many senior Hamas figures.
They have never hidden it.
And yet in Venice and Hollywood, people applaud those whose ideology, taken seriously, would eventually threaten them as well.
Have you lost your minds?
Instead of helping one of the few countries in the world actually confronting this axis of radicalism, you turn against it.
Stop apologizing
The problem is not only the obscenity of a film like NAZA, whose creators deliberately draw a comparison between Israelis and Germans during the Holocaust.
We have become accustomed to this.
We should not.
The deeper problem is that there is no major film presenting decades of racist and antisemitic indoctrination.
There is no major film showing the construction of Hamas’ terrorist machine.
There is no major film showing the education toward the destruction of unbelievers and the conquest of the world.
And even when such films do exist, they are unlikely to receive the same stages in Venice, Cannes or Hollywood.
Hamas supporters have waved swastika flags. Radical Islamist preachers have invoked Hitler and called for mass killing.
Yet how convenient that they have Israelis in academia, journalism, social media and the cultural world who present the exact opposite picture, while exploiting the fact that Israel is a democracy.
So what should be done?
Enough apologizing.
Enough assuming that disproving each individual lie will solve anything.
It is time to attack.
Take out full-page advertisements in the world’s leading newspapers featuring quotations from Hamas leaders about conquering America and Europe.
Show Hamas supporters waving swastika flags because of their identification with Nazism.
Show the spiritual leaders who called for Hitler’s work to be continued.
In the battle for public consciousness, which is also a battle for truth, disproving falsehoods remains important.
But defense alone changes nothing.
Trying to refute each testimony in NAZA is doomed to fail. It would be a waste of energy. It might even become free publicity for the film.
The gloves should come off.
The truth should be presented for what it is: Hamas, as part of a broader radical Islamist movement that spreads destruction, death and devastation wherever it takes hold, is Nazi in its ideology and conduct.
We have the evidence.
It is time to use it.
One more point.
Yuval Abraham, one of the film’s two creators, is a political partner of Ahmed Alnaouq, a senior figure in what presents itself as a human-rights organization but which I regard as part of Hamas’ propaganda apparatus in Europe.
That is the man. That is the narrative. That is the film.
More on that connection Friday.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>rjusxchyze</id> 
            <title>IDF warned Netanyahu of looming budget crisis for a year. He acted only now | Analysis</title> 
            <description>Analysis: After nearly three years of war drained stocks, systems and manpower, military leaders repeatedly warned that a NIS 40 billion gap was already damaging readiness and force buildup; with elections looming, the government now needs opposition support to move the money</description>
            <author>Yossi Yehoshua</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2025/06/30/Sy3ZdweHxx/Sy3ZdweHxx_57_184_731_412_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/rjusxchyze</link>
            <pubDate>Mon, 14 Sep 2026 18:24:07 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>Years of war, dramatic warnings and a late awakening: It is striking that Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich are now sending the IDF Planning Directorate chief, a uniformed major general, to persuade opposition leader Yair Lapid and explain the military’s budget distress: a shortfall of some 40 billion shekels needed for ongoing operations and force buildup, at one of the most sensitive security periods Israel has faced in years.
The government has reached this point because, during an election period, a move of this scale cannot be advanced without opposition support. But it did not have to wait this long. The problem did not emerge today. Throughout the past year, the IDF repeatedly warned of a severe and dangerous budget crisis in the defense establishment, stemming from a gap of tens of billions of shekels urgently needed by the military.
 
The IDF is approaching a fourth year of war after enormous attrition in stocks, systems and manpower. It faces Iran, Hezbollah, Hamas, Syria and Yemen, each requiring different capabilities. At the same time, Israel must retain the ability to fight a multifront war rather than assume that each front will erupt separately.
The gaps that have developed in force buildup are substantial. Defense officials say they cannot detail all of them, and rightly so. Some of the information concerns stocks of munitions and missiles, some concerns production capacity and some procurement programs. But the implication is clear: The military has managed to continue fighting for years, but in the process it has also consumed its future.
The distress is not merely accounting. It is reflected first and foremost in serious shortages of munitions and in the need to replenish stocks depleted during the prolonged fighting. Defense officials are also warning of the possibility that production lines at Israeli defense companies could be halted without an agreed budget, precisely when the IDF needs to rebuild its strength and prepare for the next campaign.
That is what makes the dispute over the budget so significant. Israel has been discussing Netanyahu’s force buildup plan, estimated at roughly 350 billion shekels over a decade. Finance Ministry officials have warned about its scale, while claims have resurfaced in recent weeks that Netanyahu wants to reopen the state budget to transfer additional funds for force buildup. Defense officials, however, say the money transferred so far has largely gone toward current needs and managing the war and has not closed the gaps created in rebuilding military capabilities.
The crisis has also been aggravated by the continuing confrontation with the Finance Ministry. Defense officials believe the ministry is taking advantage of the fact that the IDF cannot publicly reveal the full extent of its shortages and requirements, making it harder for the military to rebuild its capabilities against threats on multiple fronts.
An increasingly urgent problem
And this was not a single warning. The IDF chief of staff and his deputy presented the political leadership with explicit warnings about the military’s financial condition and the security consequences of failing to close the gaps. Maj. Gen. Tamir Yadai recently warned in a document that the measures already taken by the IDF to cope with the shortage “are causing real harm to the ability to maintain the IDF’s stability today.” Chief of Staff Lt. Gen. Eyal Zamir has said plainly that “the coffers are empty.”
The practical meaning of those warnings is dramatic: reducing the process of restoring readiness, prioritizing force-building resources solely for core operational needs, delaying long-term force buildup and postponing infrastructure investments and projects intended to support the IDF’s defensive concept along its new deployment lines. In other words, this is not simply money missing for future projects. The shortage is already affecting the IDF’s ability to carry out its current plans, replenish its stocks and maintain readiness.
The chief of staff warned. His deputy warned. The head of the Planning Directorate warned. Those warnings were placed before the political leadership for months. Netanyahu cannot say he did not hear them. Both Netanyahu and Smotrich eventually accepted that additional money had to be transferred to the IDF. But that realization came late, and now the government cannot simply transfer the required 40 billion shekels. The sum is significant enough to require changes to the budget framework and amendments to legislation.
That makes the matter particularly urgent. If the money is not approved through legislation now, the IDF could be forced to wait until after the election and the formation of the next government. That process could take about six months, during which the military would have to manage the gap by postponing programs, cutting spending and reducing readiness and force-building processes.
 
Netanyahu argues that opposition consent is therefore required and that the Knesset plenum must be convened to approve the changes despite the election period. That is precisely where the failure lies: The government knew about the problem for months but did not address it in time. Now that the gap has become a crisis, it must reopen the budget and ask the opposition to help transfer the money.
Lapid, according to his office, told the Planning Directorate chief: “I support the proposal and support transferring the funds, because the IDF needs to be strengthened, but the budgetary source cannot be the tax increases on the middle class and reservists that you are leading toward. Instead, include in the proposal the cancellation of the corrupt coalition funds and the tens of billions of shekels you are currently transferring to fund ultra-Orthodox draft dodging, and we will support the proposal in the Knesset as well.”
Likud accused Lapid of “misleading the public about the defense budget,” calling his claims “baseless and false” and saying defense spending could be increased without raising taxes. Lapid responded that “Likud is once again lying and abandoning the security of the state,” reiterating that he supports transferring the money to the defense establishment but maintaining his condition over its source.
Defense Minister Israel Katz then called on Lapid “to support the IDF’s request for an additional budget,” saying that “the regional reality does not allow us to wait.”
“It would not be right to tie the security issue to the usual political dispute with the government over various budget items,” Katz said. “The economic situation is good and the required funds exist in the Treasury, but formal legislation in the Knesset is required.”
Yashar! party chairman Gadi Eisenkot backed Lapid, saying: “Even during the most difficult war in Israel’s history, the IDF is warning of gaps in munitions, manpower and budget and is not receiving a response. Just as in the days before the October 7 disaster, an irresponsible political leadership is ignoring warnings and calls from senior defense officials.”
“Lapid is right,” Eisenkot added. “If the Netanyahu government wants a solution, it could have met all the IDF’s needs until the election: Shut off the flow of coalition funds and transfer the money from associates and draft dodgers to the IDF.”
The IDF did not suddenly discover that it needs money. The chief of staff and his deputy warned about it. The head of the Planning Directorate warned about it. The message was clear: The coffers were being depleted, stocks had to be replenished and the shortage was already damaging the military’s ability to rebuild its strength.
Ultimately, this is not only a question of another 40 billion shekels. It is a question of whether Israel is funding the military force it needs after three years of war, or continuing to manage its security through temporary solutions and postponed decisions.
And the harder question is directed at the government: If all these warnings had been on the table for months, why wait until the problem became a budget crisis that requires the IDF itself to turn to the opposition?</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>by00bonskme</id> 
            <title>Saudi Arabia’s drone vulnerability is a warning for Israel</title> 
            <description>Opinion: Saudi Arabia’s latest pipeline attack exposes the limits of even sophisticated air defenses; for Israel, the lesson is not that Riyadh should become a closer strategic partner, it is that Israel must never confuse regional cooperation with strategic dependence</description>
            <author>Amine Ayoub</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2025/11/18/ryhZdVqx11l/ryhZdVqx11l_0_154_2536_1427_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/by00bonskme</link>
            <pubDate>Mon, 14 Sep 2026 13:56:13 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>Saudi Arabia’s East-West oil pipeline was struck by drones launched from Iraq, forcing Riyadh to shut the route temporarily. Baghdad subsequently acknowledged that the attacks originated from Iraqi territory and dismissed a senior military commander in Maysan province, where the launches were traced. The episode exposed something more important than a single gap in Saudi defenses: even a wealthy state with extensive military capabilities can struggle to protect critical infrastructure from relatively inexpensive, low-flying systems.
For Israel, that should be a warning against complacency. It should also be a warning against the assumption that political alignment with Saudi Arabia automatically creates greater Israeli security.
 
The distinction matters because normalization with Riyadh is often presented as though it were inherently strategic. Under current circumstances, it is not. Israel should not enter a major diplomatic bargain simply because Saudi Arabia can offer economic access, regional legitimacy or selective security cooperation. A government can cooperate with Israel on one issue while pursuing very different interests on another. Saudi policy under Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman has demonstrated a highly centralized and transactional approach to foreign affairs. Jerusalem should therefore judge every proposed arrangement according to concrete Israeli interests rather than assuming that a new partnership will remain reliable when circumstances change.
That does not mean Israel should reject useful cooperation. Intelligence sharing, early warning and deconfliction can sometimes serve Israeli interests. But such cooperation should remain an addition to Israel’s own capabilities, not a substitute for them. Israel can work with states when doing so makes it safer while retaining the ability to act independently when those states choose another course.
The Saudi pipeline attack demonstrates why that independence matters.
Low-altitude drones create a fundamentally different defensive problem from traditional ballistic missile threats. Ballistic missiles generally provide defenders with altitude, speed and warning signatures that can help establish a track. Small drones and cruise missiles can fly much lower, exploit terrain and approach from unexpected directions. Ground-based radars can be constrained by the curvature of the earth, terrain masking and clutter. Small uncrewed platforms can also be difficult to distinguish from background objects until they enter a more favorable detection window.
The attacks on Saudi energy infrastructure therefore illustrate a basic reality of modern warfare: no defensive network can guarantee that every threat will be detected in time.
Israel already understands this problem better than most countries. Its layered air-defense architecture has been tested repeatedly against missiles, rockets and drones. Yet Israel’s geographic characteristics create a special vulnerability. The country has limited strategic depth and a concentration of critical infrastructure. Electricity facilities, desalination plants, ports, refineries, industrial sites and offshore energy assets cannot simply be moved away from danger. A successful strike against a single critical node can have consequences far beyond the immediate physical damage.
This is why Israel should study the Saudi experience without turning it into an argument for normalization.
Washington is already encouraging greater regional air-defense integration. In January, U.S. Central Command and regional partners opened the Middle Eastern Air Defense Combined Defense Operations Cell at Al Udeid Air Base in Qatar. The facility is designed to improve coordination, information sharing, threat warnings and multinational planning. The broader concept is sensible. Earlier detection and better communication can give defenders more time to respond.
But integrated regional defense has a fundamental limitation: political relationships are not the same as military reliability.
Countries may share information during one crisis and withhold it during another. Governments may change priorities. Leaders may calculate that cooperation with Israel carries political costs greater than its security benefits. Intelligence-sharing arrangements can also become vulnerable when governments fear that sensitive information could expose their own strategic interests.
This is particularly important when considering Saudi Arabia under Mohammed bin Salman. His foreign policy has pursued rapid strategic shifts, balancing relations among Washington, Beijing, Moscow and regional powers according to Saudi interests. That flexibility may serve Riyadh. It should not be mistaken for an Israeli security guarantee.
The appropriate Israeli response is strategic clarity.
Israel should preserve independent intelligence, early-warning, command-and-control and interception capabilities even as it participates in useful regional mechanisms. Regional sensors can provide additional warning, shared intelligence can improve situational awareness and joint exercises can expose weaknesses. But none of these should become indispensable to Israel’s ability to defend itself.
The economics of drone warfare make this even more urgent.
A relatively inexpensive drone can force Israel to consider using a far more expensive interceptor, whether from Iron Dome or another layer of its defensive architecture. During prolonged campaigns, repeated interceptions can place pressure on finite stocks even when individual engagements are successful. An attacker does not need to destroy the defense outright if it can repeatedly force the defender to spend more resources than the attack costs. By combining drones with decoys, cruise missiles or simultaneous attacks from different directions, adversaries can create difficult choices for Israeli commanders and test the sustainability of the entire defensive network.
Israel cannot solve that problem simply by buying more traditional missiles. It needs a broader defensive architecture that includes short-range systems, electronic warfare, sensors and other cost-effective counter-drone capabilities. The objective should be to make the defensive response sustainable, not merely technically impressive.
The Saudi experience also shows why protecting infrastructure requires more than defending obvious military targets. Critical energy and transportation networks are interconnected. An attack on one component can disrupt another, creating economic effects disproportionate to the size of the initial strike. Israel’s small geography makes resilience especially important. Redundancy, rapid repair, dispersed capabilities and the ability to continue operating after localized attacks are therefore as important as interception itself.
Regional integration can contribute to that resilience, but Israel must remain capable of operating without it.
That principle should guide any future discussion of Saudi-Israel relations. Diplomacy should not be treated as a substitute for deterrence. Normalization should not be treated as a defense system. Political symbolism should never obscure the hard military reality that Israel must retain the capacity to protect itself regardless of what another government decides.
There is also a broader strategic lesson. Israel should be wary of measuring partnerships by the promises made when relations are improving. The Middle East is defined by reversals. A state that appears aligned today may distance itself tomorrow because of domestic politics, economic pressure, leadership changes or a new regional crisis. Israel should therefore build relationships that are useful without making its survival contingent on their durability.
 
That is especially relevant to any Saudi proposal that asks Israel to make significant concessions in return for normalization. Diplomatic agreements should be judged on what they actually secure for Israel, not on the assumption that signing them will transform the strategic environment. If the political conditions are unfavorable, Israel should have the confidence to say no. Security cannot be purchased with diplomatic optimism.
The Saudi attack makes that principle concrete. Riyadh’s wealth, military spending and international partnerships did not prevent a relatively small airborne threat from reaching critical infrastructure. Israel should draw the uncomfortable conclusion: capability matters, but assumptions matter too.
The Saudi pipeline attack is therefore more than another episode in the region’s expanding drone war. It is a warning about the limits of technology, the vulnerability of critical infrastructure and the uncertainty of relying on partners whose interests may diverge from Israel’s at precisely the moment when security matters most.
Israel should learn from Saudi Arabia’s vulnerability without becoming dependent on Saudi Arabia’s goodwill.
The strongest regional strategy is one in which cooperation expands Israeli options without narrowing them. Israel can share intelligence when useful, coordinate defenses when necessary and cooperate with regional governments where interests genuinely overlap. But it should preserve the ability to see, decide and act independently.
Regional cooperation can strengthen Israel’s shield, but it should never become the foundation of Israel’s survival. In the Middle East, the safest shield is ultimately the one Israel can operate alone.
Amine Ayoub, a fellow at the Middle East Forum, is a policy analyst and writer based in Morocco. Follow him on X: @amineayoubx</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>byjxhqrtze</id> 
            <title>How 'Fauda' succeeds where Israel's public diplomacy often falls short</title> 
            <description>Opinion: Israeli advocacy is not only about proving Israel is right, but helping others understand its reality — including that when Israelis talk about security, they also mean their homes, their children and whether they will still be here tomorrow</description>
            <author>Ayelet Razin Bet Or</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/05/19/ryb1LgKYJfe/ryb1LgKYJfe_0_30_1200_675_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/byjxhqrtze</link>
            <pubDate>Mon, 14 Sep 2026 13:18:13 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>It turns out that sometimes a story can break through where entire public diplomacy operations struggle to reach.
Last week, the fifth season of “Fauda” premiered on Netflix worldwide, in 190 countries, and almost immediately returned to the international conversation, drawing coverage and reviews outside Israel. It is also the first season to have been rewritten in the wake of October 7, and the trauma of that day runs through it from beginning to end.
 
That same week, poet and author Maya Tevet Dayan, who moved with her family to Canada for a year, described a meeting at her daughter’s new school. The counselor asked what life in Israel had been like in recent years. She answered simply: “Not easy.”
He told her he watches “Fauda” and said that until you live in a certain place, it is difficult to truly understand its reality, let alone judge it from the outside. At the end of the meeting, he told her that if anyone made her feel uncomfortable, she could come to him.
It may be one of the best stories about Israeli public diplomacy I have read recently. Not because “Fauda” is a public diplomacy series. Quite the opposite. If it were, it would probably lose much of its power. First and foremost, it tells a story.
Since October 7, we have been trying to explain facts to the world: videos, testimonies, numbers and maps. To explain what it means to live in communities just minutes from a border, to have someone break into your home, to hear an air-raid siren, to have a child who knows where the safe room is.
But human beings do not understand reality through facts alone. They understand it through other people — through people they can identify with and fear alongside.
That is a central blind spot when it comes to Israel.
From the outside, Israel is perceived as powerful — militarily, technologically and economically. At times, too powerful: the neighborhood bully, a country wielding immense force against those perceived as weaker. It is easy to understand where that image comes from: fighter jets, tanks, special forces and one of the strongest militaries in the world.
But that image misses a deeper layer of the Israeli experience.
It is not always an experience of power. Sometimes it is exactly the opposite: fragility. Short borders. A home that can be breached. A small country where war can reach the living room, the highway, an outdoor music festival and a child’s bedroom.
October 7 made that gap impossible to ignore.
For much of the world, Israel is the stronger side in the conflict. For many Israelis, that day was a chilling reminder that beneath the military strength lies an existential fear as well: that the border will collapse, that the army will not arrive in time, that home will not be safe.
There is no contradiction in that. A country can be extremely strong while at the same time living with the sense that its existence cannot be taken for granted.
Behind the image of power
This is where “Fauda” breaks through to places official Israeli advocacy sometimes struggles to reach.
It takes the viewer behind the image of power: to the soldiers, but also to their families; to operational capability, but also to fear. Suddenly, “powerful Israel” is not merely a country that uses force. It is also a society trying to protect a small and vulnerable space in which to live.
That does not justify every Israeli action. It is simply a layer that is often missing from the international conversation: the understanding that, from the Israeli point of view, the conflict is not only a struggle over borders, rights and policy. Time and again, it is also experienced as a question of survival.
“Fauda” also illustrates the almost unimaginable proximity between the different worlds. Those fighting each other often live only minutes apart, know the same roads, cities, gestures and language.
There is something in that which even a European viewer can recognize: the possibility that a terrorist cell can emerge right under one’s nose, inside a familiar civilian environment. Europe has already experienced the moment when it became clear that someone planning an attack does not necessarily “come from outside,” but may live within society itself.
The series also shatters the image of the Israeli as a hero made of steel.
Its men are broken, post-traumatic, frightened and angry. They cry and use humor as a form of escape. Especially after October 7, there is something courageous about normalizing that brokenness.
Nor is the natural presence of women in key roles within the security establishment insignificant. When women are in the operations room, involved in decision-making and at the center of the plot without any need to explain why, it changes perceptions.
But perhaps the most important thing “Fauda” allows viewers outside Israel to understand is that there is no simple story here.
Public diplomacy is not only an attempt to prove that we are right. It begins with trying to help another person understand the reality in which we live — not so they will agree with us about everything and not so they will ignore the power Israel possesses and the responsibility that comes with it, but so they understand that when Israelis talk about security, they are also talking about their homes, their children and the question of whether we will still be here tomorrow.
 
Perhaps that is why Maya Tevet Dayan’s story touched me so deeply.
In a distant Canadian community sat a man who had never lived here. He had not received a briefing from an IDF spokesperson and had not taken part in a public diplomacy delegation. He had simply watched a television series.
And it managed to reach a place facts and arguments often struggle to reach: it allowed him to feel, if only slightly, the Israeli reality.
It is a reminder that culture is not a country’s decoration and art is not peripheral to the struggle over public opinion.
A story told well can break through where facts alone come to a halt. Not in order to make the world agree with us, but so that before it judges us, it can for a moment also see the fear that lies behind the power.
Attorney Ayelet Razin Bet Or is an expert in advancing gender equality and combating gender-based violence and a former director-general of Israel’s Authority for the Advancement of the Status of Women.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>byq3hi4yme</id> 
            <title>The year ahead: Israel cannot move forward without confronting the past</title> 
            <description>Opinion: Deadlocked polls may suggest Israel remains evenly divided, but after Oct. 7, years of war and mounting questions over responsibility, this election year should be about more than battlefield victories: it should be about strategy, accountability and what comes next</description>
            <author>Shimon Shiffer</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/09/13/Sye5kDVtfx/Sye5kDVtfx_0_85_1448_816_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/byq3hi4yme</link>
            <pubDate>Mon, 14 Sep 2026 08:03:53 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>On the eve of Rosh Hashanah, the election polls told us that Israel’s rival political camps were running neck and neck. A tie? I asked myself. How can there be a tie after everything that has happened here in recent years?
A tie after cemeteries filled with the graves of civilians and soldiers killed while Benjamin Netanyahu’s government was in power? A tie after we were exposed to the detailed warnings the prime minister received about what Yahya Sinwar was preparing to do, as described by Shlomi Eldar and Ruth Yuval?
 
The old Jewish expression for catastrophe says, “While one was still speaking, another came.” That was how I felt reading Dana Spector’s harrowing account in Yedioth Ahronoth’s 7 Days supplement of Noa Hovera, whose husband Ido was killed on October 7 at Kibbutz Sufa, and of the book she later wrote about her experience. It was chilling.
After many years covering election campaigns, I have learned that when the polls point persistently to a dead heat, sometimes it is not only the polling that has lost its way. The voters may have lost theirs as well.
So I will say something that is not based on science or polling models: I believe the coming election will end in a decisive defeat for those who brought us to the brink. Write that down.
Victories are not a strategy
In Khan Younis, Hamas commanders and terrorists have been killed in recent days. The IDF has also completed the destruction of Hezbollah command infrastructure on the Ali Taher Ridge.
Netanyahu and his son Yair rush to be photographed around these achievements. The publicity machine is working. Topaz Luk is doing his part, with help from the IDF Spokesperson’s Unit. Why? Because that is how the machine works. Benjamin and Yair at the wheel.
But if you are at the wheel, perhaps you could also tell us where you intend to drive. What is supposed to happen in these areas after the killings and destruction? What political or security arrangement do you envision?
Those are not abstract questions. They matter to the parents whose children are once again being called up for military service. A military achievement is not a substitute for an answer about what comes next.
Churchill and the art of fearlessness
“It is fortunate for mankind that men cannot, as a rule, foresee or predict to any large extent the course of events. Otherwise life would be unbearable.” That observation by Winston Churchill appears in Erik Larson’s fascinating book The Splendid and the Vile, which focuses on Churchill’s first year as Britain’s wartime prime minister.
The book’s detail is extraordinary and meticulously documented. At its heart is the story of how Churchill taught his country what Larson describes as an “art of fearlessness.”
Read it, and you may understand why I find Netanyahu’s occasional comparison of himself to an “Israeli Churchill” so audacious. The distance between them is immense.
What we asked for at the New Year table
At the dinner marking the arrival of the new year, we ate pomegranates, dipped apples in honey and asked, believers and nonbelievers alike, for an answer to our prayers. May we finally hear good news.
And I found myself thinking of a difficult poem by Tehila Hakimi, with its relentless confrontation between existence, death and life, between graves, earth and all the space consumed by loss.
After everything we have endured, perhaps one of the most important things we can wish for ourselves, and for one another, is compassion. Not only victory. Not only justice as each camp defines it. Compassion. We have needed far too much of it, and shown far too little.
Before Yom Kippur, a word about regret
And with Yom Kippur approaching, another thought. In his poem “Regret,” Yehezkel Rachamim warns against allowing remorse to consume us over lost days, wrong turns, hidden happiness, failures, missed possibilities and all the moments in which we surrendered ourselves to regret.
There is something especially fitting in those words now. A country cannot live forever inside regret. But neither can it move forward by refusing to confront what produced that regret in the first place.
There must be a way to remember without being paralyzed, to demand accountability without surrendering to hatred, and to choose a different path without pretending the past did not happen.
So for the year ahead, for all of you, I wish only good things.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>b1bpzcnfgg</id> 
            <title>Eyal Zamir after 18 months: six-front war, battlefield gains and mounting political pressure</title> 
            <description>Analysis: The IDF chief has overseen major operations against Iran, Hamas and Hezbollah while pushing a forward-defense doctrine, even as troop shortages, budget fights, senior appointments and the Haredi draft fuel mounting political pressure</description>
            <author>Ron Ben-Yishai</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/09/10/yk14895343/yk14895343_0_81_919_518_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/b1bpzcnfgg</link>
            <pubDate>Mon, 14 Sep 2026 06:30:30 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>Any assessment of IDF Chief of Staff Lt. Gen. Eyal Zamir after a year and a half in the job has to begin with the circumstances in which he took command. Not since Israel’s 1948 War of Independence has a chief of staff entered office while the IDF was engaged on six active fronts. 
At the same time, Zamir has had to resist pressure from some of the most powerful forces in the governing coalition in order to preserve public confidence in the military, prevent the politicization of the senior command and operational decision-making, and recruit thousands of additional combat troops whose absence is limiting the IDF’s ability to carry out its missions.
 
Zamir’s most significant achievements as chief of staff have come on the battlefield. According to updated assessments by the IDF Intelligence Directorate and Operations Directorate, Israeli military operations in Operation Rising Lion and Operation Roaring Lion under his command have left Iran no longer a nuclear threshold state, a status it is expected to remain outside for several years, according to assessments Zamir and Military Intelligence recently presented in closed discussions. The “annihilation plan” conceived by the elder Khamenei and reaffirmed by his son has been pushed back by at least five years. All of the hostages, living and dead, have been returned from Gaza, while the military forces of Hamas and Palestinian Islamic Jihad no longer constitute the threat to southern Israel they once did. Instead, the IDF is subjecting them to what it calls a “creeping siege,” alongside an intensive campaign of targeted killings and the destruction of underground infrastructure intended to prevent them from rebuilding their capabilities.
According to current and former senior IDF officers, Zamir has also restored the ground forces’ confidence in their ability to maneuver and clear territory both above and below ground despite the threat of anti-tank weapons and drones. They point to recent operations in Lebanon, particularly the crossing of the Litani River, the capture of the Beaufort Ridge and the destruction of the Ali Taher Ridge. Equally important, the IDF under Zamir has managed to implement an offensive operational doctrine while navigating between the demands of a hawkish Cabinet and a combative defense minister on one side, and those of the White House, which wants stable ceasefires in Gaza and Lebanon, on the other.
Across all fronts, Zamir is rapidly implementing Israel’s new security doctrine. Based on the lessons of Oct. 7, its core principles are forward defense and prevention. The doctrine has not yet been formally adopted by the government or Cabinet, but the IDF is already shaping its operational approach around it. Some in academia, the Finance Ministry and the defense establishment question whether the IDF can sustain the doctrine over time because of worsening shortages of personnel and funding, as well as the lack of international legitimacy for security zones and permanent military positions inside the sovereign territory of Lebanon and Syria and within the Gaza Strip.
The IDF currently exercises operational control over some 1,220 square kilometers and maintains 63 military positions in Gaza, Lebanon and Syria. Along Israel’s peace border with Jordan, it has established a new formation, the Gilad Division, while construction continues on a barrier and fence intended to prevent a surprise assault by jihadist militias approaching from the east. In Syria, in addition to maintaining forward defenses for Israeli communities on the Golan Heights, Zamir’s General Staff, with Cabinet approval, has established and maintains what it regards as a credible threat that has so far thwarted Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s plans to take control of Syria and has guaranteed the security of the Druze in Suwayda province.
In the West Bank, known in Israel as Judea and Samaria, Central Command and the Shin Bet have over the past year reduced Palestinian terrorism to a level Israel has rarely seen: no fatal shooting or bombing attacks, five Molotov cocktail attacks, one vehicle-ramming attack and two attempted rammings. Alongside that achievement, however, Zamir and the IDF face a serious and dangerous failure in dealing with violent Jewish extremists and in their inability to prevent or remove farms and outposts established illegally but backed by the government.
The three Israelis killed in the West Bank this year, one combat officer and two civilians, died during what the IDF euphemistically calls “friction incidents” with Palestinians. In practice, these involved violent attacks by Jewish extremists on Palestinian communities or provocative incursions by Jews into Palestinian towns and villages. The IDF, which exercises military authority in the West Bank, has been unable to enforce the law there or fully meet its obligations under international law.
 
Zamir has had to manage all of this under four major constraints.
The first is the requirement to carry out Cabinet directives and the policies of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, even when they conflict with operational or intelligence considerations or with the judgment of Zamir and a significant number of General Staff officers. As commander of the military and the senior operational authority, Zamir has learned to work within directives issued by a political leadership that frequently announces that it “instructed” or “ordered the IDF” to take action, while trying to preserve military values and professional judgment.
The second constraint is imposed by US President Donald Trump, his policies and his envoys. The most extreme example was Washington’s intervention to prevent an Israeli Air Force strike package at the end of Operation Rising Lion. More often, however, the American restrictions are more flexible, leaving the chief of staff, rather than the political leadership, responsible for navigating them firmly but carefully while constantly assessing the position of an unpredictable White House and knowing that Israel’s political leadership would be quick to blame him if anything went wrong.
Israeli-American cooperation in both defense and offensive operations, particularly with US Central Command, has reached levels unprecedented in Israel’s history in scale, intensity and closeness. At times, that relationship has allowed Zamir to receive information in advance that the prime minister, for various reasons, preferred not to share with him, including information related to the hostages.
The third constraint is the severe shortage of combat manpower. It repeatedly forces Zamir to call up reservists in order to sustain forward defenses and prevent an uprising from erupting in the West Bank.
The fourth, and more traditional, constraint is the defense budget. Every previous chief of staff has had to enter the familiar confrontation in which the Finance Ministry says there is no more money and the military argues that without additional funding today, it will not be able to confront tomorrow’s threats. Zamir is dealing with a situation in which Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich has delayed the transfer of funds already approved for the military by the prime minister and Cabinet. In fairness, Israel’s defense budget is currently more than twice the level it was before the war.
Zamir, who previously served as director general of the Defense Ministry, understands the fiscal pressures. He nevertheless argues that Israel’s new security doctrine, the need for greater independence in weapons production and the possibility of new strategic threats emerging require immediate investment in infrastructure, preparation and procurement.
Industrial-scale operations
Zamir often says he accepted the position because he regarded it as a mission. He does not seek to diminish the record of his predecessor, Herzi Halevi, who publicly accepted responsibility for the military’s part in the failures of Oct. 7 but nevertheless managed to continue functioning and lead the IDF’s rapid recovery. When Zamir took office, however, the military was suffering what people close to him describe as a “crisis of trust across the chain of command” caused by the shock of Oct. 7 and a pervasive sense of responsibility for the disaster. Senior officers at the rank of major general and brigadier general blamed one another, rival groups and different branches of the military clashed, and some officers openly said they had lost confidence in Halevi.
Zamir was determined to pull the IDF out of that crisis and set himself two primary goals: bringing the hostages home and preparing the military and the Israeli home front for a confrontation with Iran. When he assumed command on March 5, 2025, 59 hostages remained in Gaza, 24 of them believed to be alive, and no agreement for their release was being negotiated. Hamas, despite the blows it had absorbed, was still buoyed by what it viewed as the success of Oct. 7.
Relations between the political leadership and the IDF were close to openly hostile, largely because politicians, led by Netanyahu and Defense Minister Israel Katz, were doing everything they could to avoid responsibility for the Oct. 7 failures and direct it instead toward senior IDF and Shin Bet officials. At the same time, Netanyahu and Katz were quick to claim credit for every military success.
What troubled the incoming chief of staff most, however, was the fact that 42 hostages had been killed or murdered in captivity. “That will not happen under us,” Zamir was heard saying during a General Staff discussion. He summoned Maj. Gen. (res.) Nitzan Alon, who was responsible for the military’s work on the hostages, and Maj. Gen. (res.) Poli Mordechai, who assisted him. At Zamir’s insistence, they presented him with the circumstances surrounding the death of every hostage and the lessons learned in each case.
Zamir now says with satisfaction: “During my tenure, not a single hostage died.” In his view, military pressure on Hamas was the central factor that led to the return of all the remaining hostages, living and dead, in the October 2025 agreement. US envoy Steve Witkoff also said so publicly after the deal was completed.
The IDF campaigns in Gaza, including Operations Oz VeHerev, Gideon’s Chariots and Gideon’s Chariots II, were conducted according to a new operational strategy introduced by Zamir. He moved away from repeated raids into neighborhoods and defined areas and toward a slower method that exposed troops to less danger in built-up areas and prevented Hamas from reestablishing itself in areas the IDF had already cleared. That strategy has brought the IDF to a point where it now controls about 67% of the Gaza Strip up to the Yellow Line, with 42 military positions slightly east of that line, while waging a war of attrition against Hamas through sustained firepower and targeted killings.
Before Zamir took office, Iran had twice launched missiles at Israel. Israel’s responses had consisted of limited, targeted actions that, in Zamir’s view, only encouraged Tehran to continue attacking. Zamir has recalled in private conversations that when he entered the job and reviewed existing plans for an attack on Iran, he concluded that a fundamental change was needed: Israel had to move from surgical strikes against individual targets to what he called “industrial-scale operations.”
The aim was to disable, for as long as possible, Iran’s air defense network in the west of the country, which had prevented the Israeli Air Force from operating freely; the various elements of Iran’s nuclear program, with particular emphasis on nuclear scientists, facilities involved in developing an actual nuclear weapon and uranium enrichment sites; and the ballistic missile and drone forces threatening Israel’s civilian population. The strategy also called for eliminating senior commanders in the Revolutionary Guard and Iranian military.
 
The need to change the attack plan stemmed from developments in the overall Iranian threat that were not widely known to the Israeli public. In 2011, Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei published what the article describes as a plan for Israel’s destruction by 2040 in his book *Palestine*. The plan became known as the “2040 Doctrine.” It envisioned Israel’s elimination in several stages.
The first stage was a campaign of encirclement and attrition carried out through Hezbollah, Hamas, Iraqi militias, the Houthis and Syrian forces, creating a ring of fire around Israel. The second was to make life intolerable for Israeli Jews and create enough fear to drive them back to their countries of origin. In the next stage, Jewish-owned land would pass to Palestinians. Finally, Palestinians would hold a referendum on establishing a Muslim state in place of Israel. His son and successor, Mojtaba Khamenei, reaffirmed the plan and declared that the Tehran regime remained committed to the objective of ensuring that Israel would not continue to exist beyond 2040.
By 2023, Iran had in practice become a nuclear threshold state. It possessed about 440 kilograms of uranium enriched to 60%, from which, according to the assessment presented here, enough material for the cores of roughly 10 nuclear warheads could have been produced within weeks. What made an attack on Iran more urgent was that the elder Khamenei had taken a step he had previously avoided: He authorized Iranian scientists to advance the “weaponization program” intended to turn enriched uranium cores into nuclear weapons.
The Revolutionary Guard was advancing another element of the annihilation plan: the production of thousands of ballistic missiles and drones that could be launched in barrages of dozens or even hundreds at a time. The assessment was that Israeli, American and allied missile defenses would not be able to cope with those numbers, certainly not with interception rates above 80%.
During the initial planning for Operation Rising Lion, American participation in strikes against Iranian targets was not contemplated. At first, Zamir coordinated with then-CENTCOM commander Gen. Michael Kurilla only on defenses against Iranian missiles and drones. People who witnessed the discussions with the Americans came away with the impression that Kurilla did not believe the IDF would be able to neutralize Iran’s air defenses, a prerequisite for the operation’s success.
There was another problem. Israel’s defense establishment concluded that neither the IDF nor Mossad could disable the enormous Fordow uranium enrichment facility, which is buried deep inside a granite mountain, and that only the United States had the capability to do so. But Zamir, who had spent many hours working with Kurilla, believed during the planning stage that if Israel succeeded in neutralizing western Iran’s air defenses, there was a realistic possibility that the United States would agree to attack Fordow.
On June 12, 2025, minutes before Israeli aircraft were due to take off, Zamir asked to speak at the Cabinet meeting convened to authorize the operation. He reminded the ministers of the “annihilation plan,” which Iran and its proxies had already begun putting into practice, and concluded: “Jewish history will not forgive us if we fail in this operation.”
What followed is well known. The strikes in Operation Rising Lion eliminated a significant portion of Iran’s military and security leadership, killed 13 nuclear scientists and struck secret facilities where development and testing connected to nuclear weapons production had been carried out. When the Americans saw that the operation was succeeding, after Israel struck Natanz, facilities in Isfahan and the heavy-water facility at Arak and inflicted severe damage on Iran’s uranium enrichment program, Trump decided to join the campaign, as Zamir had predicted.
The Israeli Air Force cleared the way for American bombers, which then attacked the Fordow enrichment facility and put it out of operation for an extended period. It is important to qualify the result. The 12-day war, or Operation Rising Lion, did not destroy Iran’s nuclear program or missile program. It set them back by several years.
The immediate danger of Iran being able to break out toward a nuclear explosive device within weeks, or field many thousands of ballistic missiles within months, was removed. But Zamir understood that Iran remained dangerous and could rebuild those capabilities within a relatively short period. That, according to the analysis, is why Operation Roaring Lion and full cooperation with the Americans were required: to push Iran’s nuclear, ballistic missile and drone programs back for a much longer period; destroy most of the development and production infrastructure of its defense industries; and weaken the regime, the Revolutionary Guard and the Basij in order to encourage the Iranian public to rise against and overthrow the regime.
After Military Intelligence and the Air Force presented detailed, intelligence-verified results from Operation Roaring Lion, Zamir concluded: “Iran is no longer a nuclear threshold state. We have pushed Khamenei’s annihilation plan back five years.” He added: “There is no precedent for the scale of force employed in Iran by Israel and the Americans.”
The decision to eliminate Iran’s leadership, including Ali Khamenei, drew criticism on the grounds that Israel is now dealing with a regime whose decision-making processes are less orderly, slower and far more extreme and rigid than before. Israeli decision-makers, including Zamir, remain convinced that eliminating the elder Khamenei was necessary because he was the driving force and ideological authority behind the plan to destroy Israel. Mojtaba is more extreme and rigid than his father, they believe, but lacks the same authority and ability to execute policy. They also believe that decapitating the leadership accelerates Israel’s broader objective of bringing down the regime in Tehran.
The green presentation
Zamir places great value on the close operational cooperation and personal relationships he has developed with American commanders. At one point during Operation Roaring Lion, CENTCOM commander Adm. Brad Cooper called Zamir on a secure line and told him that Iran’s closure of the Strait of Hormuz had become a serious problem.
The Revolutionary Guard naval commander responsible for enforcing that closure effectively was Alireza Tangsiri. Cooper asked Zamir whether anything could be done to stop Tangsiri from functioning. He told his Israeli counterpart that Tangsiri was in a multistory building at Bandar Abbas port, but that the United States did not want to bomb the entire port and instead wanted him neutralized in a precision operation. Cooper acknowledged during the call that only Israel had the intelligence and operational capability to carry out such a strike.
A week later, Zamir called Cooper and told him: “Tangsiri is no longer with us.” A precision air-to-ground missile had entered through the window of Tangsiri’s office and killed him.
Overall, Operation Roaring Lion left about 4,530 members of the Revolutionary Guard and about 430 Basij personnel dead. Most components of Iran’s nuclear program, particularly enrichment capabilities, were set back by years. Iran nevertheless retains some capabilities. These include about 440 kilograms of uranium enriched to 60%, hidden at three sites: Isfahan, Fordow and an underground mountain facility near Natanz.
Those locations are under extremely close joint Israeli-American surveillance. If Iran tries to remove the enriched uranium and enrich it further to weapons grade, 90% or higher, Israel and the United States are expected to detect it. Even if Iran succeeded in accessing and processing the enriched uranium it still possesses, the assessment is that it would require about a year to produce an initial nuclear device.
During Operation Rising Lion, Israel struck around 100 components of Iran’s military industry connected to missile production. Operation Roaring Lion struck another 2,600 sites and production facilities, including plants producing solid rocket fuel. Iran launched around 1,000 drones at Israel. None penetrated Israeli defenses.
 
“The Iranians wanted to reach 4,000 missiles by the end of 2026 and 8,000 by 2027. They won’t get there,” said a senior defense official familiar with the figures. Assessments indicate that Iran had around 1,600 ballistic missiles remaining after Operation Roaring Lion. Most are stored in tunnels, some of which remain blocked while others have been reopened. Of roughly 400 launchers, fewer than 200 remain. But the same official warned that if Iran is left undisturbed, it could reach its target of 4,000 ballistic missiles in about two years.
The Intelligence Directorate has developed a system that examines in detail which components of Iran’s nuclear, missile, command-and-control and military-industrial systems were struck, and the extent of the damage. The findings were converted into a presentation dominated by the color green, indicating systems assessed as completely destroyed.
Iran’s military-industrial capabilities, including its production and development capacity, are clearly no longer what they were. Its optics industry, for example, was completely destroyed, while significant parts of the steel and petrochemical industries were damaged. Zamir is nevertheless the first to acknowledge that Iranian missiles still pose a threat and could become an even greater danger in the future. Continued Israeli-American efforts in this area will therefore be necessary.
Quietly and deliberately
Zamir has continued developing the new security doctrine that emerged within the IDF after Oct. 7. Its key elements are forward defense at Israel’s borders and preventive action. Under this approach, whenever the IDF identifies an emerging threat, large or small, whether in an adversary’s intentions or capabilities, it acts without delay. Instead of containing the threat, it seeks to destroy it while it is still developing whenever possible.
As a result of that strategy, IDF forces are now positioned well beyond Israel’s borders in Gaza, Lebanon and Syria. The number of forces assigned to border defense is 300% greater than it was on Oct. 6, 2023. On the morning of the Oct. 7 attack, the IDF had 38 battalions deployed along the borders and in the West Bank. Today it has 89, including 39 reserve battalions.
The operational model for defending the borders has also been adjusted to reflect the new doctrine. In Lebanon, for example, the military uses forward defense, prevention and deterrence. Forward defense is implemented through security zones and military positions on commanding terrain that provide both observation and fields of fire from well beyond anti-tank missile range. Within those zones, the IDF destroys buildings, bunkers and tunnels that Hezbollah could use if it returned to the area. On prevention and deterrence, the IDF responds with fire not only to Hezbollah military activity but also when it receives intelligence that such activity is being planned.
The operation on the Ali Taher Ridge was in a category of its own. Hezbollah, working with the Revolutionary Guard’s Quds Force, excavated at least two enormous underground complexes beneath the ridge, possibly more. They housed command centers, logistics facilities and heavy weapons belonging to Hezbollah’s principal operational region facing Israel, known as Badr, an organizational formation roughly comparable to an Israeli military command.
After the Second Lebanon War, the area became Hezbollah’s central operational hub, and the war of recent years was directed from there. The IDF, however, lacked sufficient intelligence, including the locations of the tunnel shafts, and did not know whether Iranians were present underground.
What was clear was that the facility was very large, had been excavated with Iranian assistance and was regarded by Hezbollah and its Iranian patrons as a major symbol, a strategic military asset and an investment whose destruction would inflict both a military and psychological blow. They viewed it as a kind of “Karbala” battle for the Shiite movement. Hezbollah sought to deter Israel from destroying the tunnels by threatening renewed Iranian missile barrages, but the IDF was not deterred.
The Americans prohibited Israel from taking action that would trigger a major Hezbollah response, and Israel itself did not want renewed fighting with either Iran or Hezbollah. Israel gave the militants barricaded inside an opportunity to leave under a white flag. When they did not emerge, a quiet battle began under a complete media blackout.
 
Zamir held an operational assessment almost every evening. He focused on two central constraints: the political leadership’s instruction not to cause an escalation and, above all, the safety of Israeli troops. The operation continued for months, cautiously and methodically, without abandoning its objectives, until the ridge was destroyed. Zamir, a graduate of Israel’s military boarding school, followed its motto: “Quietly and securely.”
Zamir is aware that Israeli national psychology has changed since Oct. 7. At a General Staff meeting about two weeks ago, he was heard saying: “We cannot afford even one terrorist attack.”
He added: “I don’t want the security situation to affect either what happens during the holidays or the course or outcome of the elections. The IDF cannot afford to let even one attack through, and we need to respond quickly to every attack or attempted attack.”
Later, Zamir believes it will be possible to reduce the burden on reservists, both through more selective call-ups and by releasing reserve formations. Two divisions are currently operating in Gaza, one active-duty and one reserve division. After the elections, Zamir intends to withdraw the reserve division.
If the political leadership approves, he also intends to reduce the size of the security zones and the number of IDF positions in Lebanon, both to save reserve manpower and money and to strengthen the current Lebanese government politically in its confrontation with Hezbollah. The IDF would then be able to prepare properly for what Zamir expects could eventually become the decisive confrontation with Iran.
The underlying security doctrine, however, will remain unchanged. “I don’t want to defend from the border line,” Zamir says. “I want to defend from forward positions as long as there is no diplomatic arrangement.”
In other words, the IDF’s approach is to place its forces between the enemy and Israeli civilians living near the border by operating inside enemy territory. In Zamir’s view, the military is currently not large enough to perform that mission on the required scale.
The IDF has established another division and another tank brigade, rebuilt armored formations and created numerous additional combat units. All require personnel. That brings the issue back to the draft of Haredi, or ultra-Orthodox, men.
It is one of the issues that has caused the current government to view Zamir with hostility. Zamir has repeatedly stressed that during wartime the IDF urgently needs more troops, especially active-duty combat soldiers. In practice, his position helped derail legislation that would have regulated the Haredi draft, a bill that IDF officials openly refer to as the “draft-evasion law.”
Zamir did not merely demand the enlistment of eligible Haredi men. He also devoted substantial time and effort to establishing dedicated frameworks that would allow them to serve while maintaining a Torah-observant lifestyle. That undercut arguments by Haredi politicians that the military neither needed nor genuinely wanted Haredi recruits.
At the same time, the issue of recruiting Haredi and more hard-line national-religious soldiers has placed Zamir in a difficult position. On one hand, he is demanding Haredi enlistment and creating specialized frameworks for Haredi recruits and students from hesder yeshivas, arrangements that in practice exclude women from some settings. At the same time, he is fighting growing religious radicalization among some soldiers from those communities.
One example involved Givati Brigade soldiers who refused to go on an operational mission because a female paramedic would be riding with them inside a Namer armored personnel carrier. Zamir ordered the soldiers who refused the command jailed, but it was not an isolated case.
It followed a controversy over “Messiah” patches that Zamir ordered soldiers to remove from their uniforms, and an incident in which an IDF soldier smashed the head of a statue of Jesus in Lebanon. Zamir instructed field commanders, not all of whom agreed with him, to enforce operational discipline. His concern was not only that highly publicized signs of religious radicalization were damaging the IDF’s already eroding international legitimacy, but more importantly that soldiers could begin dividing their loyalty between military commanders and civilian rabbis whom religious troops consulted.
This is only one area of military-society relations in which Zamir is trying to enforce the principle of institutional, nonpartisan service expected of the IDF as Israel’s national military.
A dismissal announced on live television
Relations with the political leadership are a separate issue. When the defense minister and prime minister offered Zamir the position of chief of staff, he promised to establish a committee to reexamine the IDF’s Oct. 7 investigations conducted under Halevi.
Even while serving as Defense Ministry director general, Zamir had doubts about the quality of some of those military inquiries and therefore wanted to establish a review committee. It is also reasonable to assume that he understood Katz personally wanted such a review because it could reinforce the argument that senior IDF officers, particularly Military Intelligence, bore responsibility for the Oct. 7 failures rather than the political leadership.
Zamir was also asked to ensure that the small number of brigadier generals and major generals who had remained in senior positions after Oct. 7 leave their posts, among them then-IDF spokesman Daniel Hagari. If Zamir thought those steps would satisfy the political leadership, he was mistaken.
It was not long before Katz began trying to dictate the appointment and removal of officers at the ranks of major general and brigadier general. IDF appointments fall under the chief of staff’s authority, although for senior officers from colonel upward, the chief recommends candidates and the defense minister formally approves them.
Katz used that authority in an attempt to advance appointments of his own, following the pattern of other government ministers who sought to place political allies in senior executive jobs even when, according to the article’s assessment, they lacked the appropriate qualifications, provided they would be politically indebted to those who appointed them.
The latest case came when Katz announced live on Channel 14 that Maj. Gen. Dado Bar Kalifa, head of the IDF Personnel Directorate, would become the next commander of Central Command. The current Central Command chief, Maj. Gen. Avi Bluth, himself religiously observant and a graduate of the Eli pre-military academy, was considered too institutionally independent by extremist settlers, many of whom vote in Likud primaries and could have affected Katz’s political future had he not eventually been guaranteed a place on the party slate.
The announcement effectively amounted to the public dismissal of a serving Central Command chief, made without coordination with the chief of staff. Zamir had in fact decided to appoint Bar Kalifa to the position, but only after Bluth completed his term as planned.
Zamir regarded Katz’s announcement, with justification in the author’s assessment, as a blatant circumvention of his authority. He nevertheless avoided a public response that would have drawn him into an unproductive media confrontation with the defense minister.
People close to Zamir describe him as stubborn and highly protective of his authority, but also calm and experienced in dealing with hostile politicians. Several hours after Katz’s Channel 14 statement, the IDF Spokesperson’s Unit issued a statement on Zamir’s behalf saying there would be no new senior appointments before 2027. In other words, Katz’s timetable would not happen.
At General Staff meetings and other forums, Zamir has made clear that he will not allow political leaders to make or influence appointments inside the military and that IDF officers serve the people of Israel, not the Likud Central Committee.
Another tactic used by right-wing ministers against Zamir and senior commanders who insist on operational discipline and refuse to give religious soldiers special treatment is to draw a distinction, on social media and in closed discussions, between a supposedly “weak, left-wing” senior command and troops in the field, who are portrayed as uniformly heroic and eager for battle.
That happened, for example, when right-wing ministers demanded a rapid operation to capture Gaza City and take over the entire Strip, arguing that this was the only way to free all the hostages. According to the analysis, it was clear that behind the demand was a political-messianic agenda aimed at renewing Jewish settlement in Gaza.
Zamir opposed a rapid assault. He argued that storming Gaza City and its surrounding areas would lead to the deaths of most of the living hostages, cost many soldiers their lives and might still fail to achieve its objectives. Instead, he presented an alternative plan based on slower but painful military pressure on Hamas. That plan was ultimately implemented and, in his view, produced precisely the desired result.
That did not stop Cabinet ministers from telling journalists willing to listen that Zamir was “not offensive enough.” Asked to respond to that accusation, Zamir said: “I will not risk even one soldier in order to carry out a military operation that serves political objectives, and I will not accept political appointments inside the military.”
 
Zamir also faces criticism from Israel’s center-left opposition. Critics there argue that the IDF has lost control and is failing to do what is necessary to stop what they describe as ethnic cleansing by violent Jewish extremists in the West Bank.
In their view, Zamir is facilitating illegal and immoral political moves, damaging what remains of Israel’s diplomatic and military legitimacy internationally and potentially helping trigger a Palestinian intifada.
In private conversations, Zamir responds by pointing to the factors he says have tied both his hands and those of the IDF and prevented the military from properly dealing with Jewish extremists and terrorism. The most important factor is the shortage of combat troops.
During the current Jewish holiday period and on the eve of Israel’s elections, 26 combat battalions are deployed in the West Bank, with preventing Palestinian terrorism as their primary mission. They are not trained for policing. The result is that the IDF presence at the growing number of confrontation points is too thin to stop violent incidents from escalating.
The situation becomes even more complicated when the reservists responding to an incident belong to local territorial-defense units, known in Hebrew as HAGMAR, meaning they themselves are settlers living on the farms or in the communities from which the provocateurs came. On Zamir’s orders, most reservists serving in those West Bank territorial-defense formations, who had been receiving substantial pay for their service, were recently released.
The government has also imposed three measures that have sharply restricted the IDF’s ability to deal with illegal farms, outposts and Israeli lawbreakers. Under the coalition agreement, authority over the Civil Administration in the West Bank was transferred to Smotrich, who also serves as a minister within the Defense Ministry.
Katz, meanwhile, stripped the Central Command chief of the authority to issue administrative detention orders against Israeli lawbreakers in the territories. Katz and Smotrich have also prevented the military from dismantling outposts or farms built without authorization on the grounds that they are in the process of receiving government approval.
The government has therefore, in practice, severely restricted the IDF’s ability to enforce the law against Israeli civilians in the West Bank. Zamir was recently heard saying: “If there is one thing that frustrates me, it is this.”
A growing pressure point
Having learned from Halevi’s difficult experience with Netanyahu, Zamir has recently warned the prime minister and Cabinet several times, both orally and in writing, that the Jewish holiday period and the run-up to the elections are volatile and dangerous across almost every front, particularly Iran, the West Bank, Lebanon and the threat of attacks abroad.
The greatest immediate danger, in his assessment, comes from the West Bank. Palestinian tensions are already high because of the weakness of Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas and his security apparatus, worsening economic conditions, uncertainty over whether Palestinian elections will take place in November, and incitement by Hamas and Palestinian Islamic Jihad with Turkish backing.
But tensions are currently being driven above all, according to the analysis, by increasingly frequent and violent attacks by Jewish extremists, provocative incursions by Jews into Palestinian villages, and farms and outposts being established almost every week in Areas A and B of the West Bank, often on privately owned land.
Three escalation scenarios in the West Bank are currently of particular concern to Zamir. The first is an especially deadly Palestinian attack that inflames both sides and triggers violent confrontations across the West Bank. Zamir refers to such an incident as a “strategic attack.”
The second is what the IDF calls a “turning of the guns” scenario, in which Palestinian Authority security forces use their weapons against Jewish extremists and against the IDF. The third is widespread Palestinian unrest escalating into attacks on Jewish settlements and outposts.
Any one of those scenarios, or a combination of them, would likely develop into a large-scale intifada that could spread into Israel itself. Much of Zamir’s attention is therefore focused on preparing the IDF for the possibility of an eruption without warning on one or more volatile fronts, with particular emphasis on rapidly containing escalation in the West Bank.
Zamir does not say so explicitly, but he appears convinced that the IDF under his command has delivered results and has already significantly improved Israel’s national security position. His message now is that it is the politicians’ turn.
Before or after elections in Israel and the United States, he believes political leaders must close at least some of the open fronts and translate the IDF’s operational achievements in Lebanon, Gaza, Syria and the West Bank into durable security arrangements.
Scale of the damage to Iran
* Iran had aimed for 4,000 ballistic missiles by the end of 2026 and 8,000 by the end of 2027; assessments say it now has about 1,600 missiles remaining
* Of roughly 400 launchers, 200 were destroyed
* The nuclear program was set back by years, but Iran still has about 440 kilograms of uranium enriched to 60%
* About 4,530 Revolutionary Guard personnel and 430 Basij members were killed during Operation Roaring Lion
* Some 2,600 sites and production facilities belonging to Iran’s defense industry were hit
Scale of the damage to Hezbollah
* Between 7,000 and 9,000 Hezbollah operatives have been killed since Oct. 7
* During Operation Roaring Lion, the Radwan Force lost about 30% of its personnel, killed or wounded
* The security zone controlled by the IDF covers more than 7% of Lebanon’s territory; hundreds of thousands of people have been displaced from their homes
* Hezbollah’s rocket and missile inventories have been reduced by about 60% for Katyusha rockets, 80% for medium-range rockets and 65% for long-range missiles
Scale of the damage to Hamas
* About 67% of the Gaza Strip is under IDF control, with 42 military positions maintained there
* About 80% of Hamas tunnels have been destroyed or neutralized
* Hamas and other armed groups have lost about 98% of their indirect-fire weapons inventory
* The weapons stocks of Hamas’ territorial battalions have been reduced by about 50%
* About 35% of Hamas’ Nukhba forces have been killed since the start of the campaign</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>hjkzmfxtgx</id> 
            <title>Algeria just severed ties with the UAE. Israel is the quiet winner</title> 
            <description>Analysis: The rupture is not a bilateral spat. It exposes a widening realignment in which Morocco, the UAE and Israel occupy overlapping strategic space while Algeria’s traditional model of influence faces mounting pressure</description>
            <author>Amine Ayoub</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/09/12/r1x5QfXFGe/r1x5QfXFGe_53_0_1368_771_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/hjkzmfxtgx</link>
            <pubDate>Sat, 12 Sep 2026 21:08:17 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>When Algeria ordered the UAE ambassador to leave within forty-eight hours on September 10, 2026, and announced restrictions on UAE-registered military and civilian aircraft, while exempting commercial flights until the end of the year, the rupture immediately highlighted a deeper regional realignment. Official Algerian statements cited accumulated “provocative and hostile” actions but did not identify a single triggering incident. 
Abu Dhabi expressed regret and said it hoped the break could eventually be reversed. The absence of a discrete crisis is itself revealing. This is less a bilateral quarrel than an open collision between two different models of regional power across North Africa, the Sahel and the broader Middle East.
 
Algeria relies on a state-centered model built on territorial size, energy resources, military capacity and formal diplomacy. The United Arab Emirates operates through a networked model that deploys capital, logistics, commercial infrastructure and selective security partnerships far beyond its borders. In fragmented political environments, that networked model can generate leverage faster and more flexibly than traditional geographic weight. The difference has become increasingly visible as Algeria and the UAE have found themselves pursuing competing interests across several regional arenas over the past several years.
Morocco is the fault line
The clearest illustration is Morocco. For decades the rivalry between Algiers and Rabat centered on Western Sahara, with Algeria providing long-standing support to the Polisario Front. That bilateral contest changed character in November 2020 when the UAE opened a consulate in Laayoune and expressed support for Morocco’s territorial integrity. The step came amid Morocco’s normalization with Israel under the Abraham Accords and the United States recognition of Moroccan sovereignty over Western Sahara.
The result is not a formal anti-Algerian military alliance. It is an increasingly dense web of overlapping partnerships. Concrete examples include UAE-backed infrastructure and energy investments in Morocco, including major water and power projects, alongside expanding defense-industrial cooperation between Rabat and Jerusalem since 2020. Their significance is not merely economic. They strengthen Morocco’s capacity, deepen its external partnerships and give outside actors a growing stake in the strategic environment surrounding Western Sahara, forms of influence that Algeria cannot easily counter through traditional diplomacy or bilateral pressure.
Morocco no longer faces Algeria as an isolated neighbor. It sits inside a growing network that links Rabat, Abu Dhabi, Jerusalem and Washington. For Israel this matters because the relationship with Morocco deepens strategic presence and defense relationships westward. Cooperation with Rabat expands Israel’s reach along North Africa’s Atlantic and Mediterranean approaches in ways that did not exist a decade ago. 
The combination of diplomatic recognition, economic investment and security cooperation has altered the balance of influence around Algeria’s western border without requiring a formal military pact. This shift has practical consequences for how Algeria calculates its regional options and for how external powers engage the Maghreb.
The Sahel exposes the deeper competition
A parallel shift is visible south of Algeria. Algiers long treated the Sahel as a primary arena for diplomatic mediation. The 2015 Algiers Agreement on Mali represented the high point of that approach, relying on formal state-to-state negotiation and institutional commitments. Military coups in Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger between 2020 and 2023 disrupted the institutional landscape on which Algerian diplomacy had depended. 
The new military governments proved less receptive to external mediation that they viewed as constraining their sovereignty and more open to alternative partnerships that offered resources without the same political conditions.
External actors offering flexible resources moved into the resulting space. The UAE brought capital, commercial projects and logistical capacity into environments where Algeria had relied more heavily on geographic proximity and sovereign mediation. 
In the Horn of Africa, Emirati investment in ports, aviation and security infrastructure, including its longstanding role at Berbera, has created channels of influence that operate largely outside traditional diplomatic mediation. Such relationships give Abu Dhabi practical access and leverage even where formal political institutions are weak or fragmented. 
The contrast appears in Libya as well. Algeria has generally favored formal institutions and UN-backed processes aimed at national reconciliation. The UAE has maintained closer ties with eastern military forces associated with Khalifa Haftar, prioritizing targeted security outcomes over comprehensive political settlements. The difference in approach is not merely tactical. It reflects two distinct conceptions of how influence should be exercised in fragmented political environments where state authority is contested or incomplete.
 
Sudan sharpens the same divergence. The UAE has faced serious allegations from UN investigators and Human Rights Watch concerning networks linked to logistics and support for the Rapid Support Forces; Abu Dhabi firmly denies providing such support. Beyond the dispute over specific allegations, the episode illustrates the broader pattern: in fractured political environments, capital, logistics and informal networks can generate leverage faster than traditional diplomatic mediation. For Algeria, that represents a broader challenge as fragile African states become arenas for increasingly competitive external influence. 
Israel is the quiet beneficiary
The Israel angle is the most consequential element of the rupture, yet it must be stated carefully. Israel did not cause the break between Algiers and Abu Dhabi. The rupture reinforces a regional configuration in which Morocco and the UAE are increasingly connected to Israel while Algeria remains outside that network.
The Abraham Accords were never only a set of bilateral trade deals. They created the foundation for overlapping partnerships in intelligence, maritime security, aerial defense and defense technology. The expanding cooperation among Israel, Morocco and the UAE has produced an increasingly dense web of security relationships across parts of North Africa. 
These relationships include defense-industrial cooperation, intelligence sharing on common threats, and coordinated diplomatic positioning on key regional questions. Algeria, which maintains a strict non-normalization policy and places the Palestinian issue at the center of its regional identity, stands outside that network.
What Washington should understand
American policy must avoid treating Algeria and the Abraham Accords partners as interchangeable pillars of North African strategy. Algeria remains a significant energy supplier to Europe and retains a role in certain counterterrorism channels. Yet its strategic posture is constrained by a doctrine of autonomy and by deep defense ties with non-Western suppliers. According to SIPRI data, Russia accounted for 48 percent of Algeria’s major arms imports between 2020 and 2024, even as overall Algerian arms imports declined in absolute terms during that period, falling by roughly 73 percent compared with the previous five-year window.
Washington would be well advised to give greater weight to the Morocco-Israel-UAE network as an emerging framework for regional security, trade and technological cooperation, while maintaining pragmatic engagement with Algeria where American interests require it. It should also encourage partners to exercise caution in fragile African theaters so that competitive influence does not deepen conflicts that ultimately benefit hostile actors. 
The goal should not be to isolate Algeria permanently. It should be to recognize that the regional architecture is shifting and to align American policy with the partners most willing and able to deepen practical cooperation on shared security and economic interests.
The regional order is changing
The Algeria-UAE rupture does not signal the collapse of Arab diplomacy. It confirms that regional influence is no longer automatically inherited through territorial scale or formal hierarchy. Power is increasingly generated through capital mobility, commercial infrastructure, logistical networks and adaptive security partnerships that cross traditional borders.
Algeria retains substantial assets: territory, energy, a large military and decades of diplomatic experience. Those assets still matter. But they translate less efficiently into the cross-border leverage generated by networked powers. The rupture between Algiers and Abu Dhabi did not create the new regional order. It revealed how far the old one had already eroded.
Israel’s advantage is therefore not a dramatic new alliance or an immediate military windfall. It is the steady expansion of a strategic network in a region where Algeria’s position is becoming more contested. In the emerging map of North Africa and the eastern Mediterranean, Morocco and the UAE are deepening relationships with Jerusalem while Algeria is moving further outside that emerging configuration. 
That is why Israel is the quiet winner.
Amine Ayoub, a fellow at the Middle East Forum, is a policy analyst and writer based in Morocco. Follow him on X: @amineayoubx</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>sjltcy11kmg</id> 
            <title>Israel-Turkey tensions are soaring, but their shared interests run deeper</title> 
            <description>Analysis: Despite escalating rhetoric, Israel and Turkey share vital security and regional interests. Israel must distinguish public confrontation from strategic realities while countering Turkish ambitions through regional alliances and US coordination</description>
            <author>Mohammed Wattad</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/06/10/BJBwChLZfe/BJBwChLZfe_0_0_850_479_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/sjltcy11kmg</link>
            <pubDate>Fri, 11 Sep 2026 06:01:04 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>When Ankara issues legal threats in the international arena and Jerusalem responds with harsh statements, it can seem as though Israel-Turkey relations have reached the point of no return. The public confrontation presents a simplistic picture: two countries on a direct collision course over values and ideology. But the analysis I offer, grounded in international law and security realpolitik, reveals a far more complex reality. Beneath the rhetorical smoke, Israel and Turkey are not monks cloistered in a moral monastery. They are rational actors in a ruthless geopolitical environment, linked by a largely hidden web of vital strategic interests.
To understand the current crisis, it is first necessary to unpack the contemporary use of "international law." Turkish moves in international tribunals and declarations of boycotts do not represent a fundamental break over norms but are part of the familiar practice of "lawfare." International law is being used here as a tactical weapon in the diplomatic arena, intended to raise the price of negotiations without breaking the rules of the game. At the same time, international maritime law and shipping arrangements in the eastern Mediterranean continue to provide a firm foundation that both sides are extremely careful not to undermine. Freedom of navigation, stable trade routes and the protection of offshore energy infrastructure are vital interests. Even when the political waters of the Mediterranean are turbulent, commercial flows and quiet legal ties continue beneath the radar.
 
A look at the broader picture reveals an even deeper convergence of interests in the regional and global arenas. Both countries have a clear interest in preventing a security vacuum in Syria and Lebanon that could be filled by Iranian-backed forces or unchecked radical organizations. Containing Shiite expansion and maintaining stable borders are shared objectives. Moreover, quiet strategic cooperation in the Caucasus, as reflected in both countries' close relations with Azerbaijan, demonstrates that when it matters most, core security and energy interests outweigh rhetorical rivalry. Turkey, which aspires to regional-power status, understands well that a complete rupture with Israel would deprive it of a valuable strategic mediator role and leave it isolated in Washington.
This is precisely where the United States enters the equation, serving as the shared Western anchor that both restrains and connects the various arenas. It is Israel's critical ally, Saudi Arabia's security patron and the strategic foundation of Turkey's membership in NATO. President Donald Trump's special relationship with Erdogan and the practical steps Washington has taken to advance Turkey's regional standing do not run counter to Israel's vital interests. Washington views a strong Turkey as a necessary counterweight to Iran and radical actors, while imposing a structural "glass ceiling" that prevents heated rhetoric from deteriorating into a physical confrontation.
A restraining and balancing force
Within this framework, the "Mecca Joint Defense Agreement" signed by Turkey, Saudi Arabia and Pakistan does not alter the threat map facing Israel. Rather, it serves a key Turkish objective: expanding its defense exports and strengthening its position vis-a-vis Saudi capital. Ankara's integration into a security axis with Riyadh, a country that shares Israel's underlying threat assessment and commitment to stability, serves as a restraining and balancing force. It binds Turkey to a security architecture aimed at preventing escalation and regional anarchy, with the tacit blessing of the United States, rather than creating an active front against Israel.
Ultimately, the reality under American auspices requires a clear-eyed strategy of "respect but suspect" — maintaining quiet channels while distinguishing between public noise and strategic needs. Yet clear-eyed analysis is no recipe for complacency. Israel must act decisively and strategically, in coordination with regional partners, across four main arenas:
The maritime arena: In response to Turkey's "Blue Homeland" doctrine, which seeks to redraw maritime boundaries and cut Israel off from Europe, Israel must strengthen its trilateral alliance with Greece and Cyprus, including projects such as the Great Sea Interconnector, accelerate the development of independent infrastructure links and establish a formal maritime security mechanism in cooperation with Washington.
The domestic arena: In response to the flow of tens of millions of dollars through the Turkish Cooperation and Coordination Agency, known as TIKA, and affiliated organizations aimed at building Turkey's status as the "protector of Islam" in east Jerusalem and displacing Jordan, Israel should enact a comprehensive ban on hostile foreign funding in the city, curb quasi-governmental Turkish organizations and strengthen its active alliance with Jordan.
The American channel: Given the structural blind spots in existing channels, Israel should demand the establishment of a dedicated strategic intelligence dialogue with the administration in Washington, focused exclusively on exposing funding networks and curbing Turkish expansion while simultaneously addressing the Iranian threat.
The Saudi axis: Israel should capitalize on the Saudi royal family's concerns about the Muslim Brotherhood's ideology and propose close coordination with Riyadh in east Jerusalem, including civilian investment in cooperation with Jordan, alongside intelligence sharing and the integration of Red Sea and Mediterranean security concepts as part of the India-Middle East-Europe Economic Corridor, or IMEC.
The Turkish challenge is not inevitable. It requires Israel to break free from outdated assumptions, recognize the complexity of a multi-front campaign and act with sophistication to safeguard its security and standing in the Middle East.
Prof. Mohammed Wattad is a full professor of law, president of Ramat Gan Academic College and a visiting senior researcher at Israel's Institute for National Security Studies (INSS)</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>sywtqpxtme</id> 
            <title>Israel’s election raises hopes and fears across the Arab world</title> 
            <description>Opinion: Arab states are closely watching Israel’s election, with many hoping for a change in government amid fears Netanyahu’s policies could deepen regional instability, strain ties with Arab countries and derail normalization efforts</description>
            <author>Dr. Michael Milshtein</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/09/10/Hy08VHgKGl/Hy08VHgKGl_24_0_1574_887_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/sywtqpxtme</link>
            <pubDate>Fri, 11 Sep 2026 03:30:28 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>“They want Netanyahu to lose,” reads a Likud campaign poster featuring Naim Qassem and Mojtaba Khamenei alongside Recep Tayyip Erdogan and Zohran Mamdani. But a closer examination of discourse across the Middle East, particularly in the Arab world, suggests that many in the region — including countries that maintain formal relations with Israel or engage in covert cooperation with it — are actually yearning for political change in Israel. No Arab leader has spoken openly on the issue, for fear of being accused of interfering in Israel’s internal affairs ahead of the election, but the message is clear: The region wants a change in government and, above all, fears the continued advancement of the current government’s policies.
The Arab consensus regarding Netanyahu has taken shape over the past three years, amid countless declarations and moves that many in the region — and around the world — view as reflecting an Israel that has lost its balance, become addicted to fantasies and shown a willingness to embark on adventures that destabilize the Middle East.
 
The fears keeping Israel’s neighbors awake at night center primarily on the prospect of pushing Gazans into Arab countries and expanding Israel’s territory; cultivating separatist groups perceived as a subversive threat in the Arab world, including Somaliland, the Kurds in Iran and minorities in Syria; seeking out enemies and launching wars, including against Egypt and Turkey; dragging the Americans into an endless maelstrom, as demonstrated by Operation Roaring Lion; fueling a religious war by undermining the status quo on the Temple Mount and at the Cave of the Patriarchs, alongside the burning of mosques in the West Bank; and the ongoing absorption of the West Bank, effectively and openly ending any prospect of an agreement with the Palestinians.
All this stands in contrast to the narrative presented to the Israeli public about a regional alliance taking shape around the shared Iranian threat — with any disclosure of ties with Israel vigorously denied — and about growing prospects for expanding the Abraham Accords. Saudi Arabia, meanwhile, has consistently made clear that there will be no normalization without addressing the Palestinian issue.
“Netanyahu aspires to establish hegemony in the Middle East and realize the vision of a ‘Greater Israel,’ yet he has failed even in his smallest theater of war [implicitly, Gaza],” said Palestinian commentator and senior Fatah official Nabil Amr. “Had he invested in integrating Israel into the region, he would have gone down in history as a leader on the scale of the country’s founders. Instead, he is focused on securing another term and escaping the ‘legal guillotine,’ causing Israel severe damage that could yet intensify and become the most destructive in the country’s history.”
The tense atmosphere ahead of the election is heightening concerns about Israel around the world. On Wednesday, Jared Kushner said that amid a “crazy” election campaign, Israel was behaving “a little irrational.” The main concern is that Netanyahu could initiate military action on one of Israel’s fronts in an effort to improve his image or disrupt the holding of the election. Particular attention is focused on the West Bank, where settler violence is escalating and exacting a heavy diplomatic price. This comes against the backdrop of statements about preparations for an all-out war against the Palestinian Authority, which appear to reflect an aspiration to fulfill a “warning” about Palestinian security forces turning their guns on Israel — a scenario whose likelihood has increased because of Israeli actions.
Beyond concern that Netanyahu’s coalition could win the election, there are fears that its current policies would intensify, inevitably leading to a deterioration in relations between Israel and countries in the region. “The current government remaining in power, particularly if it is strengthened by figures such as Moshe Feiglin and Ofer Winter, would require Jordan to prepare for the possibility of war and reconsider its relations with Israel,” Jordanian researcher Dr. Ayman Haniti said in a conversation this week.
Particular concern has been expressed over National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir’s “Disengagement 710” plan for the “voluntary migration” of Gaza residents. Against this backdrop, eight Arab and Muslim countries — Saudi Arabia, Jordan, the United Arab Emirates, Qatar, Pakistan, Egypt, Turkey and Indonesia — issued a joint condemnation this week of statements by Israeli politicians regarding the implementation of population transfer.
“A victory by the current coalition would mean abandoning efforts to reach an arrangement in Gaza and moving toward implementing displacement, with ‘Plan 710’ going from a party document to government policy,” Palestinian researcher Ahmed Issa said.
Lebanese commentator George Issa: “It is difficult to find substantial differences between the positions of Israeli leaders after Oct. 7. The climate in Israel does not allow for prime ministers who would pursue a more moderate line than Netanyahu. At most, a leader may be elected who provokes less domestic controversy.”
The Arab world sees the upcoming election as fateful not only for Israel but for the future of the entire region. Interest in Israel’s political maelstrom — accompanied by a striking familiarity with its finer details — is unprecedented. Every party merger and reserved spot on an electoral slate receives extensive coverage in Arab media, alongside polling results. Two weeks ago, the Saudi magazine Al Majalla devoted an issue to covering the election campaign, including a spotlight on Gadi Eisenkot (“Will he become Israel’s leader, break the ‘curse of the generals’ and end the Netanyahu era?”), an analysis of the components of the Religious Zionist movement and voting trends among Arab citizens of Israel.
There is indeed emerging hope that the opposition will win, but it is accompanied by concern that rapid and dramatic change may not necessarily follow. This is due both to the likely composition of a future government, particularly the rightward leanings of some of its members, and to expectations that the current coalition, if defeated, would make vigorous efforts to thwart any change.
“Eisenkot comes from a right-wing cultural background and his mother supported Shas for decades. He is known for hawkish security positions and was the architect of the ‘Dahiya Doctrine,’” Lebanese commentator George Issa said. “More broadly, it is difficult to find substantial differences between the positions of Israeli leaders after Oct. 7. The prevailing climate in Israel does not allow for prime ministers who would pursue a more moderate line than Netanyahu. At most, a leader may be elected who provokes less domestic controversy.”
Ibrahim al-Amine, a Lebanese columnist who reflects Hezbollah’s positions, added: “There are no substantive differences among the candidates. The main debate is over style and methods.”
Still, the prevailing assumption across much of Arab discourse is that a new government would be the lesser of two evils compared with the current situation.
Another development attracting attention is the addition of Yoav Segalovich to Ra’am, the United Arab List. The move, in which a senior former police officer and avowed Zionist is joining an Islamist party, is difficult to digest in the Arab world as well as among Arab citizens of Israel.
“Bringing Segalovich into the party is intended to enable Mansour Abbas to join a coalition, a scenario that would undoubtedly have Sayyid Qutb [one of the ideological forefathers of the Muslim Brotherhood] turning furiously in his grave,” Jordanian commentator Ziad Barakat said. “If Abbas truly adhered to the Muslim Brotherhood’s doctrine, he would never have entered the Knesset. He seeks to turn the ‘48 Arabs’ [a common Arab term for Arab citizens of Israel] into Israelis and establish a version of the Druze-Zionist alliance.”
As with many other issues, when it comes to the region, the Israeli public needs to take a critical and clear-eyed look at the barrage of narratives, slogans and fantasies that has raged here since Oct. 7. The central lesson is that Israel cannot wage an eternal multifront war, establish a single state while effectively annexing the West Bank, encourage the transfer of Palestinians and adhere to goals with a religious-messianic character — foremost among them building the Third Temple and destroying Al-Aqsa Mosque — while simultaneously advancing normalization. The claim that it can do both was a false premise at the heart of the conception that preceded Oct. 7.
If the current policy toward the region continues, not only will the illusions described above prove, as expected, to be a failure, but Israel will also suffer severe damage and face a grave threat to strategic assets secured after bitter wars and on which its national security rests — foremost among them its peace agreements with Arab states.
Dr. Michael Milshtein is a senior researcher at the Moshe Dayan Center at Tel Aviv University</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>by82jh1tme</id> 
            <title>9/11: How America accidentally made Iran stronger</title> 
            <description>Analysis: Twenty-five years after the attacks, Washington’s wars in Afghanistan and Iraq removed Tehran’s two biggest regional rivals—and opened the door to Iran’s rise</description>
            <author>Amine Ayoub</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/02/26/S100SdRTObx/S100SdRTObx_0_7_1024_577_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/by82jh1tme</link>
            <pubDate>Thu, 10 Sep 2026 07:34:49 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>On the afternoon of September 12, 2001, Yasser Arafat rolled up his sleeve before television cameras in Gaza to donate blood for American victims of the previous day's attacks. Outside, news networks broadcast images of small groups of celebrating Palestinians—footage quickly magnified globally, though hardly representative of the broader Palestinian public. 
Inside the clinic, the gesture reflected a strategic calculation: if a traumatized American superpower connected his national movement to Osama bin Laden’s global jihad, the Palestinian cause could face swift political isolation.
 
That same anxiety reverberated across the presidential compounds, intelligence headquarters and royal palaces of the Middle East. The established rules of regional statecraft—where autocrats quietly tolerated or co-opted radical movements while leaning on Western security guarantees—were abruptly upended. Washington’s tolerance for regional ambiguity had expired. 
Across the region, many Arab governments scrambled to decipher the intentions of an enraged hyperpower preparing for a long global war on terror, uncertain where the American hammer might fall next.
In Tripoli, Muammar Qaddafi recognized the immediate threat to his regime's survival. Long a sponsor of international terrorism, Qaddafi watched the rapid collapse of the Taliban in late 2001 and the military buildup toward Iraq in 2003 with mounting alarm. Through quiet contacts and secret negotiations with British and American intelligence, Libya calculated that survival required a strategic pivot. 
By late 2003, Qaddafi agreed to dismantle Libya's nuclear and chemical weapons programs and to eliminate its longer-range missile capabilities, calculating that cooperation offered a better chance of ending international isolation and securing the regime's survival than confrontation.
In Baghdad, Saddam Hussein miscalculated the post-9/11 landscape far more fatally. During the 1990s, Iraqi intelligence officials, including senior officer Farouk Hijazi, had engaged in sporadic, exploratory contacts with al-Qaeda representatives in Sudan and Afghanistan. Subsequent investigations documented reports of these meetings but found no evidence of an operational alliance or Iraqi complicity in the September 11 attacks. 
In the charged atmosphere after 9/11, however, these contacts were subsequently invoked in the broader political case portraying Saddam's regime as a potential partner of America's enemies. When coalition forces captured Baghdad in 2003 and Saddam’s regime collapsed, the central military pillar of the old Arab state system was shattered.
The paradox of the post-9/11 Middle East is not that America lacked power. It is that America possessed so much of it that the destruction of two regimes radically altered the strategic environment—and then discovered that it could not determine who would fill the vacuum. Great powers can win individual military campaigns while accidentally losing the balance of power that follows them. 
For more than two decades following the 1979 Islamic Revolution, Iran’s regional expansion had been tightly constrained by two hostile powers on its immediate borders: the Taliban movement in Kabul and Saddam Hussein’s Ba'athist state in Baghdad. Together, they imposed substantial security costs on Tehran, requiring Iran to devote significant military, financial and intelligence resources to protecting its borders and preventing strategic encirclement.
In a span of just eighteen months, American military campaigns systematically dismantled both containment barriers. The 2001 invasion of Afghanistan ousted the Taliban from Kabul, while the 2003 invasion of Iraq obliterated Saddam’s military apparatus. 
While the Taliban’s eventual return to power in Kabul two decades later demonstrated that foreign interventions rarely permanently erase ideological movements, the initial military overthrow in 2001 provided Tehran immediate relief on its eastern flank. Washington did not set out to empower the Islamic Republic, but by destroying Iran’s two primary state rivals, American power fundamentally altered the Middle Eastern balance of power in ways that substantially favored Tehran.
Tehran did not receive this strategic windfall passively. Leaders in the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, particularly within the elite Quds Force commanded by Major General Qasem Soleimani, moved swiftly to capitalize on the vacuum. In Iraq, as central authority dissolved into sectarian civil conflict, Iranian intelligence cultivated political parties, funded social networks and armed powerful Shia militias. While fighting coalition forces, these groups embedded deeply within Iraq's security apparatus, ministries and political institutions, creating lasting leverage that clashed continuously with Iraqi nationalist movements striving to maintain genuine national sovereignty.
This operational foothold in Iraq helped enable Iran to project power far deeper into the Levant and the Arabian Peninsula as part of a broader regional architecture developed over decades. Iran did not build an empire in the classical sense. It built something more flexible: a network of armed partners, political clients, ideological allies and dependent militias whose power varied from country to country. 
Over two decades, this interconnected "Axis of Resistance" reinforced Hezbollah in Lebanon, supported Bashar Assad’s regime during the Syrian civil war, supplied Houthi forces in Yemen and sustained militant Palestinian factions in Gaza. To be sure, Iranian expansion was shaped by local dynamics, the Arab Spring, the fight against ISIS and regional rivalries with Gulf states. Yet American intervention fundamentally reset the baseline conditions. 
While critics argued that Western sanctions relief under the 2015 nuclear agreement directly funded this expansion, the broader economic reality was more nuanced: restored financial liquidity enhanced Tehran’s overall fiscal flexibility, indirectly supporting its foreign intelligence operations alongside domestic expenditures.
Yet Iranian influence, while vastly expanded, was never monolithic, unassailable or permanent. The view that Tehran had established irreversible regional dominance overlooked deep structural weaknesses, economic stress, local nationalist pushback and regional opposition. The limits of Iran’s strategy became starkly visible on December 8, 2024, when the regime of Bashar Assad collapsed in Syria following a rapid, unexpected offensive by armed opposition forces. The fall of the Assad regime shattered the Syrian component of the land corridor that had served as Iran's principal logistical bridge to Hezbollah in Lebanon, dealing a severe blow to Tehran's regional network.
Combined with heavy military losses suffered by Hezbollah and other proxy groups in recent confrontations with Israel, Iran’s regional network experienced its most profound strategic setback in a generation. 
In September 2026, Tehran remains formidable, capable of threatening Red Sea shipping routes through Houthi proxies, deploying advanced drone technology and maintaining a nuclear-threshold position, with an IAEA-estimated stockpile of 440.9 kilograms of uranium enriched to 60 percent and a potentially shortened breakout timeline. Nevertheless, its ambitious vision of an unbroken territorial corridor stretching to the Mediterranean Sea has been fundamentally fractured.
The fundamental lesson of the post-9/11 quarter-century is not that military power is irrelevant, nor that engagement alone can transform hostile regimes. Rather, it is a warning about how large-scale military interventions can produce cascading unintended consequences that ultimately benefit third-party rivals.
 
America did not create Iranian regional power, but by eradicating the state structures that hemmed Iran in, Washington established the strategic vacuum that Tehran exploited for two decades. Foreign policy driven by simplified assumptions about state collapse routinely fails to anticipate how power dynamics reorganize once old regimes disappear. When a great power removes a major regional power without a viable, long-term plan for maintaining the regional balance, other competitors often step into the void.
Twenty-five years after September 11, constructive American policy in the Middle East requires abandoning both the fantasy of transformative military interventions and the naive hope that radical regimes can be moderated through trade alone. 
The Abraham Accords demonstrated the value of regional alignment among nations facing common security threats, though lasting peace requires addressing underlying political conflicts alongside strategic integration. A durable regional order demands a clear-eyed strategy centered on firm deterrence, credible military capability, maritime security and deep intelligence cooperation. Expanding integrated air and missile defense networks, supporting sovereign state institutions and preventing Iranian nuclear breakout remain essential priorities.
Diplomacy and military deterrence are not opposing forces; diplomacy is most effective when underpinned by credible power and clear strategic boundaries. The central tragedy of the post-9/11 era was that wars launched in the name of American security ended up dismantling parts of the regional balance of power, inadvertently handing Iran its greatest strategic opening in modern history. As policymakers navigate the next quarter-century, the essential challenge is to project power wisely—winning necessary battles without accidentally creating the very strategic power vacuum that empowers tomorrow’s adversaries.
Amine Ayoub, a fellow at the Middle East Forum, is a policy analyst and writer based in Morocco. Follow him on X: @amineayoubx</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>b1xlelktfx</id> 
            <title>'They didn't wake him': Netanyahu’s October 7 excuse ignores months of warnings</title> 
            <description>Opinion: Netanyahu and his supporters keep hiding behind the 'they didn't wake him' excuse for the night of Oct. 6-7, while ignoring the warnings that piled up on his desk in the weeks and months before the attack</description>
            <author>Avi Issacharoff</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/09/08/r1yI6Xadzx/r1yI6Xadzx_0_0_850_479_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/b1xlelktfx</link>
            <pubDate>Wed, 09 Sep 2026 19:21:11 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>The revelation by Shlomi Eldar and Ruth Yuval about an alleged warning relayed to Israel, and especially to Netanyahu, through the United Arab Emirates in September 2023 — that Yahya Sinwar and Hamas were planning a major attack on Israel — and ignored by Benjamin Netanyahu should surprise no one. We have already seen how Netanyahu and his admirers continue to hide behind the excuse that “they didn’t wake him” on the night of October 6-7, while ignoring all the indications that had piled up on his desk in the weeks and months before the attack.
But far beyond that, they deliberately ignore serious actions taken by the prime minister that effectively helped Hamas advance its plans for the October 7 attack. We can continue to wallow in the question of whether he was woken up or not and debate the nature of the warnings he received, but the bottom line is this: Benjamin Netanyahu and the governments he led turned Hamas into an asset. They made the preservation of Hamas rule in Gaza a priority to ensure that the Palestinian Authority would not gain a foothold there or grow stronger.
 
Netanyahu was the one who decided, beginning in 2018, to allow the transfer of Qatari funds to Hamas, totaling $360 million a year in cash. And even after the defense establishment warned him that the mechanism for transferring Qatari money into Gaza was not working properly and that funds were reaching Hamas’ military wing, he continued to ignore the warnings and push for the money to be transferred.
His people can continue to argue that then-IDF Chief of Staff Gadi Eisenkot backed the policy in 2018. That is true. But the man at the top of the system, who pushed for it more than anyone else, was Netanyahu. And the man who continued the policy even when he knew the money was being used to build tunnels and manufacture rockets was Bibi.
But Netanyahu’s grave responsibility for October 7 does not end with the Qatari money. Time and again, beginning in January 2023, warnings were placed on his desk about the possibility of war breaking out with one of Israel’s enemies. Netanyahu ignored them.
The way Israel was perceived in the wake of the deep divisions created by the judicial overhaul — and just a reminder for anyone who has forgotten: the overhaul came before the protests on Tel Aviv’s Kaplan Street, meaning that if the overhaul had been halted, there would have been no Kaplan protests — led Hamas, Hezbollah and Iran to believe Israel was growing weaker.
Bibi publicly dismissed those warnings as exaggerated, even in front of television cameras. Later, when the Shin Bet under Ronen Bar — yes, the same Ronen Bar whom Likud members and Netanyahu supporters have turned into a traitor and an enemy of the people — warned him in August, September and even on Oct. 1, 2023, that Sinwar was growing bolder and that action had to be taken against him, including assassinating senior figures and targeting Hamas’ top leadership, Netanyahu once again ignored the warnings. He continued transferring money into Gaza and allowing workers from the Strip into Israel.
Netanyahu missed every opportunity that might have helped stop Hamas’ October 7 attack. One can only speculate what would have happened had Israel initiated strikes against Hamas targets during the Sukkot holiday, including senior Hamas figures who were directing terror attacks in the West Bank from their bases in Gaza.
The Shin Bet warned, even before the Jewish holiday season had ended, that Gaza was going to explode in Israel’s face because Sinwar was neither deterred nor afraid. Netanyahu simply ignored it.
And now, with the story published by Eldar and Yuval, it appears Netanyahu did what he knows best: ignore it. He barreled ahead with the judicial overhaul and refused to budge an inch. At the time, the defense establishment was already discussing the possibility of an escalation by Hamas in Gaza in light of warnings similar in nature to those described by Eldar and Yuval — warnings coming from the direction of the UAE and from Palestinian advisers who knew Gaza and Sinwar well.
In other words, there was a serious discussion of a similar warning that had reached Israel, and Netanyahu knew about it.
But Eldar and Yuval’s report that Netanyahu chose to keep the defense establishment, the Shin Bet and the IDF out of the loop, and did not even pass along the substance of the warning he had received from Mohammed bin Zayed — even if its wording was more cautious or less unequivocal — shows just how badly Bibi failed and how much responsibility he must bear for his negligent actions before October 7.
Israel’s great failure was not merely an intelligence failure or a military failure. Above all, it was a political and strategic failure. A leader who made preserving Hamas rule in Gaza a policy, funded it and helped ensure its survival cannot remain in office.
Everyone involved at the military and intelligence levels has already left their posts and accepted responsibility for their failures. Yet the man who bears more responsibility than anyone else for what happened there — for the prevailing mindset, for the funding and for the assistance that helped Hamas — is the one who continues to go around saying, “But they didn’t wake me.”</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>bj5ikfrdfl</id> 
            <title>Doctors are leaving Israel, but the medical workforce is still growing</title> 
            <description>Opinion: The doctor exodus tells only part of the story: alongside physicians leaving Israel, hundreds of doctors immigrated from abroad and Israeli physicians returned, resulting in a net gain for the country’s health care system</description>
            <author>Shmuel Slavin</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/09/06/H1mnFj5uMg/H1mnFj5uMg_0_0_850_479_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/bj5ikfrdfl</link>
            <pubDate>Wed, 09 Sep 2026 14:47:57 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>Itai Ater of Tel Aviv University described the decline in the number of doctors in great detail, writing at tedious length about their ages, specialties and other irrelevant details.
As we have learned and taught, half a truth is worse than a lie. Ater emphasizes only one side of the equation and, for some reason, ignores the other side, which is of course highly positive but does not fit Itai Ater, who represents the “Economists for Democracy” forum, a left-wing organization that opposes the government and the judicial overhaul.
 
In their forecasts for the future of the Israeli economy following the war, they failed miserably. The Israeli economy has proved to be much stronger and more stable than a small number of academics who are wrong and misleading. For example, the exchange rate has remained stable at around 3 shekels to the dollar, while their forecast was for a collapse. Unemployment is at a low, inflation is in the middle of the Bank of Israel’s forecast and foreign currency reserves are among the highest in the world relative to national output. Growth is impressive and the deficit is lower than expected.
And now to the facts: The Tel Aviv University team writes about doctors leaving Israel. Why does it fail to mention the number of doctors who immigrated to Israel from Western countries, the U.S., Canada and Europe in 2023-2025 — doctors with unique expertise, some of whom left their countries because of antisemitic factors? A total of 1,450 doctors immigrated to Israel during those years.
In counting those who left, the team members forgot to mention that some of the doctors who emigrated had arrived following the war in Ukraine, for whom Israel was a way station.
When the figures for those leaving and those arriving are combined, they show a positive balance for 2023-2025: 1,447 doctors immigrated to Israel, in addition to 689 Israeli doctors who returned. These figures give us a net gain of 769 doctors during this period, an average of about 250 doctors added to the country’s medical system each year.
 
There are 46,000 people licensed to practice medicine in Israel, while 39,000 doctors are actually active. One of the measures that determines the quality of health care is the number of doctors per 1,000 people. In Israel, there are 3.9 doctors per 1,000 people, which is higher than the average in developed OECD countries.
Nadav Eyal explained that “the most extreme Netanyahu government there has ever been here is endangering the strength of Israeli society.” For Eyal’s information, 15 years ago there were about 450 Israeli students in the first year of medical school. In 2026, about 1,700 Israeli students began studying at medical schools in Israel — nearly four times as many. So who is endangering Israeli society and who is looking after it?
And finally, some advice for Tel Aviv University: If this is the level of research conducted by your academics, is it any wonder that you are lagging behind in the Shanghai Ranking of universities? Genuine economic research does not bend to political agendas. That destroys academia, and you are on the sure path there.
Shmuel Slavin is a former director-general of the Finance Ministry.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>sjarjdauze</id> 
            <title>The 'click' moment: what Gloria Steinem taught us about fighting for women</title> 
            <description>Opinion: More than 50 years after Gloria Steinem and other women fought for abortion rights, the US Supreme Court overturned federal protections, reviving a battle many believed had already been won, a reminder that women’s rights can never be taken for granted</description>
            <author>Ayelet Razin Bet-Or</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2022/06/27/r1gOqCL9c/r1gOqCL9c_0_110_3000_1689_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/sjarjdauze</link>
            <pubDate>Wed, 09 Sep 2026 10:06:11 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>In 1963, a young journalist entered the Playboy Club in New York disguised as a “bunny.” She wore the tight-fitting costume, ears, tail and high heels, and worked there for several weeks to understand what was really happening to women behind the glossy male fantasy.
What she discovered was far less glamorous: harsh working conditions, problematic pay, scrutiny of women’s bodies and appearance and, above all, a system in which women were required to turn themselves into a product — and smile while doing it.
 
The journalist’s name was Gloria Steinem. It was only the beginning.
Steinem, who died several days ago at age 92 at her home in New York, was for more than half a century one of the figures most closely identified with American feminism. Not because she invented it and not because she acted alone. Quite the opposite. One of the most important parts of her legacy is the understanding that social change is never the story of one woman.
She learned that early. Steinem grew up with a mother who suffered from severe mental health problems and was forced at a young age to take on responsibilities that should never have been placed on a child. After college, she traveled to India, where she was exposed to community activism and grassroots organizing in the tradition of Gandhi. Long before she became an icon, she understood that change begins when people sit together and tell each other what is really happening to them.
In 1969 came the 'click'
In 1969, Steinem attended an evening at which women publicly shared their stories of having abortions, at a time when abortion was still illegal in New York. She herself had undergone a clandestine abortion at age 22, but it was only when she listened to other women tell their stories that she realized that an experience perceived as personal, embarrassing and even a private failure was actually part of a system of laws, power and social expectations.
The “click moment” became one of the most important ideas in feminism. It is the moment when a woman realizes that what she has thought for years was solely her own problem may actually be part of something much larger. That lower pay, harassment, fear in the street, violence at home, exclusion from the boardroom or a decision someone else makes about her body are not a random collection of private experiences.
It has a structure. It has a context. And it has a name.
In 1971, Steinem was among the founders of the National Women’s Political Caucus. The idea was simple and radical: Women should not just demonstrate outside the room where decisions are made. They should sit inside it.
Around the same time, she was also among the founders of Ms. magazine. Even the name was a statement: A woman should not be defined by whether she is married. Through the magazine’s pages, domestic violence, sexual harassment, rape, abortion and political representation were transformed from subjects kept behind closed doors into public and political issues.
And perhaps this is Steinem’s greatest legacy: taking what happens behind closed doors and bringing it into the public square.
Much has changed since then. Not enough has changed.
Walking backward
In some ways, we are even walking backward. More than 50 years after Steinem and other women fought for a woman’s right to make decisions about her own body, the U.S. Supreme Court overturned federal protection for abortion rights, and many states have since imposed strict restrictions and bans. A struggle that seemed to an entire generation to have already been settled has once again become a fight over a basic right. Perhaps this is one of the most painful reminders of Steinem’s death: Women’s rights do not advance in a straight line. What was achieved through struggle can also be taken away.
In December 2023, when we led an international letter by women’s rights leaders calling on the global feminist movement to speak clearly in response to evidence of rape and sexual violence on October 7 — to condemn rape as a weapon of war, demand an investigation and accountability and call for the release of the hostages — Gloria Steinem was the first to sign.
It is a moment I will never forget.
 
Precisely when parts of the feminist movement around the world struggled to say the obvious, she did not hesitate. A woman who devoted her life to the argument that the personal is political understood then, too, that the pain of Israeli women could not be rendered invisible simply because the political context was complicated.
Her signature meant much more to me than a famous name at the top of a list. It was a reminder of what feminism is supposed to be: universal, courageous and uncompromising in the face of violence against women, wherever they are.
For me, this was the “click” moment Gloria Steinem left me with: understanding that even after 50 years of struggle, sometimes we still have to insist on the most basic thing — to see a woman, believe her and stand by her.
Her final book, An Unexpected Life, is scheduled to be published September 22.
The writer is an attorney, an expert in advancing gender equality and combating gender-based violence and former director-general of the Authority for the Advancement of the Status of Women.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>rkcs7d0ozg</id> 
            <title>The next city will not be built. It will be programmed</title> 
            <description>Analysis: From Honduras to Albania and potentially Gaza, private investment in entire urban systems is blurring the line between development and sovereignty</description>
            <author>Dr. Bella Barda Bareket</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2019/02/19/9073830/9073830_0_0_980_620_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/rkcs7d0ozg</link>
            <pubDate>Wed, 09 Sep 2026 08:57:44 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>Imagine a country that owns a beautiful island, a strip of coastline, a desert region or a devastated urban area. The asset may be worth billions in potential, yet very little in its current state. Turning it into a city, a resort district or an economic hub requires roads, electricity, water, transport, hotels, housing, digital infrastructure and, above all, capital the state may not have.
Once, the model was simple: the state built infrastructure and waited for investors. Now, a different model is emerging. The state provides the territory and sovereignty. Private capital provides the money, technology and, in some cases, part of the governing framework. The city is no longer merely where investment happens.
 
The city itself becomes the product. Peter Thiel, the American technology entrepreneur and investor who co-founded PayPal and was one of Facebook’s earliest outside investors, is also known for his libertarian ideas about governance, innovation and new social frameworks beyond traditional state structures.
As early as 2009, Thiel was writing about creating new spaces beyond existing political systems. The ideas that developed around this thinking helped popularize seasteading, charter cities and startup cities. Pronomos Capital, a fund backed by Thiel and others, expresses the concept with striking simplicity: “the city is the product.”
If the city is a product, institutions become infrastructure. Regulation becomes code. Governance becomes a service layer. Residents are not only citizens, but also users, customers and sources of data.One of the most advanced experiments is taking place in Próspera, Honduras.
Próspera operates under a special legal framework originally created for the country’s ZEDE zones. It is not an independent state, but neither does it function like an ordinary municipality. Businesses can register digitally, operate under a distinctive tax and regulatory system and use dedicated dispute-resolution mechanisms.
In practice, it resembles governance as a platform. According to Próspera’s own figures, more than 200 companies have registered there and over $100 million has been invested. That is enough to turn a philosophical proposition into a real-world experiment.
Then came the part that technologists find much harder to write into code: politics. A subsequent Honduran government moved to repeal the framework that enabled the ZEDE zones, and in 2024 the country’s Supreme Court declared it unconstitutional. Próspera argues that protections granted to existing investors remain valid, and the dispute has moved into international arbitration.
That conflict exposed the central problem beneath every city-as-platform model: law can be written like code, but who owns the server on which that code runs? A different version of the same logic is emerging in Albania.
Sazan Island, once a closed military base in the Adriatic, is now the focus of a luxury tourism development estimated at more than a billion dollars. Hotels, villas, residences and marina infrastructure are planned for a place where the state itself would have struggled to justify investment on such a scale.
The island remains state-owned, but private capital is expected to create much of its future economic value. For many governments, the attraction is obvious.
The world is full of places with enormous latent value: abandoned ports, islands, former military zones, remote coastlines, border regions, post-industrial districts and territories damaged by war or natural disaster. The state owns the land but lacks the money, execution capacity or political incentive to transform it into an economic engine.
This is where the city-as-platform stops being a libertarian thought experiment and begins to look like a business model.
Instead of privatizing a single road, utility or development parcel, governments may increasingly enter partnerships in which private capital helps build the entire economic ecosystem around a territory. And Gaza may become the most extreme version of this possibility.
The cost of reconstruction was estimated in 2026 at roughly $71 billion. Much of its physical infrastructure will need to be rebuilt. Proposals discussed in recent years have included special economic zones, AI-enabled infrastructure, digitally managed services and new mechanisms for administering reconstruction finance.
None of this means Gaza will necessarily become a platform city. But it shows why the model is so compelling. When a place must be rebuilt almost from scratch, governments and investors are no longer limited to reconstructing yesterday’s city. They can design an entirely new operating layer from the beginning: digital identity, payments, mobility, energy, regulation and public services, all connected within one system.
That can create enormous efficiency. It can also create enormous power. There is a historical precedent worth remembering. In the late nineteenth century, the Pullman Company built an entire town outside Chicago for its workers. The company provided the housing, stores and public environment. At first, Pullman was praised as a model of modern efficiency.
Then an economic crisis hit. Wages were cut, rents remained high and workers discovered the danger of living in a place where the same entity was their employer, landlord and manager of the surrounding urban environment.
 
The technology of the twenty-first century allows that concentration of power to go much further. A digital platform can know where residents travel, what they buy, which services they use and whether they qualify for access to particular systems. It can adjust prices, permissions and incentives in real time.
This is why the next generation of city-building raises a question far larger than urban planning. It raises a question about sovereignty.
If a private investor finances the infrastructure, operates the digital systems, manages services and helps shape the regulatory environment, what exactly has the state granted? A development right? A business opportunity? Or a small piece of sovereignty?
For investors, the opportunity is potentially immense. A traditional developer earns money by building and selling or leasing property. A platform-city operator could potentially capture value from property, utilities, mobility, data, financial services, energy, tourism and business formation at the same time.
The prize is no longer just the land. It is the economic activity that happens on top of it.This may become especially attractive to countries that own valuable but underdeveloped territories and cannot afford to unlock their potential themselves. If the model works, territories once viewed as liabilities can become valuable economic platforms.
If it fails, the consequences may extend far beyond an unsuccessful real-estate project.Because a failed hotel can close. A failed technology company can go bankrupt. But when the product is a city, the customers cannot always simply log out. For two centuries, politics has revolved around one central question: who governs the state? The defining question of the coming urban era may be different: Who owns the operating system of the city in which we live?
Dr. Bella Barda-Bareket is an entrepreneur and a macroeconomic and geopolitical analyst.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>rjnmwpcozg</id> 
            <title>The Kharg trap: How US strikes in Hormuz put Israel’s Mediterranean gas infrastructure at risk</title> 
            <description>Analysis: As US strikes target Iranian oil assets, Tehran faces strong incentives to avoid symmetric confrontation with Washington and redirect retaliatory operations toward Israel's offshore energy grid; Jerusalem must establish forward deterrence now</description>
            <author>Amine Ayoub</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/09/05/BJTfxituzl/BJTfxituzl_115_0_1802_1014_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/rjnmwpcozg</link>
            <pubDate>Wed, 09 Sep 2026 07:55:57 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>The U.S. military strikes executed on September 5 and September 8, 2026, against Iranian oil tankers near Kharg Island and the port of Jask mark a severe escalation in the Persian Gulf. While these operations significantly impair Tehran's maritime crude exports and project formidable American naval power across the Strait of Hormuz, they simultaneously create an acute strategic risk transfer for Israel. 
In Western capitals, choking Iran's primary economic artery is viewed as a decisive operational success. However, Israel must examine the predictable secondary effects of this campaign. 
 
Faced with degrading export capabilities and an overwhelming concentration of American strike groups in the Gulf, the Islamic Republic faces compelling strategic incentives to avoid a direct, symmetric confrontation with the United States military. Tehran understands that engaging American warships in open water carries catastrophic risks for its remaining naval fleet. 
Consequently, Iran's strategic doctrine highly favors asymmetric target substitution, shifting the retaliatory burden toward high-value, vulnerable Western-aligned strategic assets where direct American naval protection is minimal. That primary vulnerability sits off the Israeli coast in the Levant Basin.
Jerusalem cannot afford to view the naval conflict in the Persian Gulf as an isolated regional skirmish. The kinetic actions off Kharg Island generate an elevated risk environment for Israel's offshore natural gas infrastructure, specifically the Leviathan, Tamar and Karish production fields. 
Together, these three offshore installations represent the critical backbone of the national energy grid, supplying approximately seventy percent of Israel's domestic electricity generation while sustaining vital regional export agreements that anchor strategic energy cooperation with Jordan and Egypt. 
In previous rounds of hostility, Israeli authorities adopted a conservative risk-management posture, temporarily shutting down production at specific platforms to mitigate the catastrophic dangers of direct kinetic impacts. 
While understandable as short-term safety measures, recurring proactive shutdowns inflict severe economic damage, cost billions of shekels and temporarily force reliance on expensive, highly polluting alternative fuels. 
More critically, routinely suspending offshore operations under threat creates a dangerous structural vulnerability. It demonstrates to Tehran that it can achieve significant economic disruption and energy coercion against Israel without successfully penetrating sovereign air defenses.
The operational logic driving Iranian regional strategy relies on calculated target substitution and calibrated escalation below the threshold of full-scale regional war. With its primary oil export terminals near Kharg Island and Jask under direct military and economic pressure, the regime in Tehran faces mounting internal and external imperatives to establish a visible counter-deterrent. 
 
Attempting to sink a major U.S. surface combatant or strike American bases in the Gulf carries a high probability of triggering overwhelming retaliatory strikes directly against core Iranian command infrastructure. 
Conversely, targeting Israeli offshore energy platforms through regional proxy networks presents a far more attractive strategic calculation. 
Utilizing Hezbollah's inventory of precision-guided cruise missiles, long-range loitering munitions or covert naval assets allows Tehran to inflict severe structural and financial costs on Israel while maintaining a degree of tactical ambiguity. 
Jerusalem must actively disrupt this decision-making framework before it manifests as physical strikes against maritime production platforms off the coasts of Haifa or Ashkelon, establishing an unequivocal baseline that holds the regime in Tehran directly accountable for any proxy aggression against Israeli energy assets.
This maritime threat vector is evolving beyond traditional aerial saturation attacks and shore-to-sea missile salvos into the subsea domain. On September 8, 2026, naval forces belonging to the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps seized a U.S. autonomous underwater vehicle operating near the Strait of Hormuz, underscoring Tehran's aggressive focus on acquiring and analyzing advanced uncrewed subsea systems. 
The proliferation and reverse-engineering of autonomous underwater technology pose a direct threat to the underwater pipelines, seabed manifold assemblies and submarine fiber-optic cables that link Israel to regional energy networks and global communications. 
 
A successful subsea sabotage operation conducted against deep-water gas extraction infrastructure situated hundreds of meters beneath the Mediterranean surface would create unprecedented engineering challenges, potentially disrupting natural gas flows for extended periods. 
While the Israeli Navy has integrated naval Iron Dome systems on Sa'ar 6-class corvettes to secure the aerial domain, subsea infrastructure protection requires a major operational expansion. Protecting sovereign marine wealth against covert subsea interdiction, underwater explosive devices or autonomous submersibles demands accelerated investments in deep-water acoustic surveillance arrays, autonomous subsea patrol platforms and specialized seabed counter-drone capabilities.
To safeguard its national security and economic independence, Israel must transition from a reactive defense posture to an explicit doctrine of forward deterrence in the maritime domain. Treating platform shutdowns as standard operating procedure grants adversaries an inexpensive tool of strategic leverage, effectively allowing proxy forces to impose an economic blockade on Israel's energy sector at minimal operational cost. 
A robust national security posture requires establishing clear, credible operational boundaries. Jerusalem must formally communicate that any kinetic or covert attack on Israeli offshore gas fields, whether launched from Iranian territory or executed by regional proxies, will be treated as a direct attack on sovereign critical infrastructure. Such an attack must carry a guaranteed, proportional retaliatory mandate against Iran's own domestic energy, industrial and maritime export facilities. 
By raising the projected cost of targeting Levantine gas above any tactical or political benefit Tehran hopes to extract, Israel can break the cycle of asymmetric target substitution and re-establish credible strategic deterrence across the Levant.
Translating this deterrence framework into operational reality requires strengthening regional maritime defense architecture. The recent signing of the landmark $3.4 to $3.5 billion Achilles' Shield agreement between Israel and Greece represents a transformative milestone, providing a sophisticated multi-layered air and missile defense architecture designed to safeguard shared strategic interests. 
However, given the rapid escalation of maritime threats, Jerusalem and Athens must view this agreement as a foundational pillar rather than a final destination. The logical and urgent next step is operationalizing this partnership into an active, permanent Anti-Access and Area Denial framework extending across the Eastern Mediterranean from the port of Haifa to Crete. 
 
By establishing joint maritime security patrols, integrating real-time subsea domain surveillance networks and coordinating regional air defense umbrellas with Greek and Cypriot partners, Israel can help secure the entire Levantine maritime corridor. 
A visible, combat-ready regional coalition provides an effective operational counterweight to Iranian subsea and aerial threats, ensuring the unhindered flow of energy and commerce throughout international waters.
This proactive stance directly reinforces broader Western strategic objectives and aligns with key principles of American security policy, emphasizing peace through strength and responsible regional burden-sharing. 
While Washington maintains heavy naval deployments to counter Iranian escalation in the Persian Gulf, global strategic demands require regional partners to assume primary responsibility for defending their immediate operational environments. 
 
By taking decisive ownership of Eastern Mediterranean energy security, Israel proves itself an indispensable regional security anchor rather than a passive consumer of allied protection. Securing assets like Leviathan and Karish is not merely a domestic operational necessity; it is a direct contribution to broader European energy stability and regional market resilience, underscoring the enduring strategic value of the U.S.-Israel defense partnership amidst growing global instability.
The security architecture across the Middle East is being rapidly redefined. As American forces degrade Iranian maritime assets in the Persian Gulf, Jerusalem must anticipate and neutralize the resulting asymmetric threat transfer into the Mediterranean. 
Tactical American successes in Hormuz cannot be allowed to breed strategic vulnerability off the Israeli coast. A cornered regime in Tehran will inevitably seek softer targets to demonstrate operational reach and restore shattered prestige. 
Israel's offshore gas platforms represent that exact target unless Jerusalem acts with decisive foresight. By expanding deep-water subsea defenses, transforming the Achilles' Shield agreement into an active maritime defense shield and enforcing an explicit doctrine of forward retaliation, Israel can safeguard its economic lifeblood and project unyielding strength. 
The distant smoke off Kharg Island is not a signal to relax; it is an urgent directive to fortify its coastlines and its sovereign energy independence without hesitation.
Amine Ayoub, a fellow at the Middle East Forum, is a policy analyst and writer based in Morocco. Follow him on X: @amineayoubx</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>bygqovpozg</id> 
            <title>My daughter died on October 7; Israel still owes her answers</title> 
            <description>Opinion: How can we talk about the country’s future while refusing to fully investigate its most immediate past? I ask for a year of truth, a year of responsibility</description>
            <author>Eyal Eshel</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2025/11/29/HJ1136ndWbe/HJ1136ndWbe_0_33_1280_721_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/bygqovpozg</link>
            <pubDate>Wed, 09 Sep 2026 06:21:34 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>This is not another opinion column about the “state of the nation” written from the outside, but rather a column by a bereaved father looking at his country and asking how it can keep going like this.
What exactly are we wishing for?
 
I look at Israel and ask myself: Have we really learned nothing?
I do not ask that as a political commentator. I ask it as a father. Roni’s father.
Roni was 20 years old. She was an IDF lookout soldier at the Nahal Oz base near the Gaza border. She was supposed to come home. She was supposed to keep living, loving, laughing, traveling and building a life of her own. Instead, I have had to continue mine without her.
Since that terrible morning, I have looked at this country differently. I watch every election campaign, every speech, every promise and every political argument and ask myself: Where is Roni in all of this?
Where is she in the calculations of those who want to lead this country? Where is she in the decisions they make? Where is she in the future they promise us?
Because Roni is not only a memory. Roni is the question. The question is whether Israel is still capable of stopping, looking itself in the mirror and admitting that it failed.
That question grows more urgent as the election approaches. I truly expected this campaign to be different. After October 7, after the worst disaster in Israel’s history and the immense loss endured by so many families, I expected leaders to understand that the country could not afford another ordinary political campaign as usual.
I expected less ego, fewer political boycotts and fewer personal vendettas. I expected more responsibility, more cooperation and a deeper understanding that Israel is in a profound crisis, and that anyone seeking to lead it must first understand the weight of that responsibility.
But as time passes, I see the same patterns returning. Political blocs. Boycotts. Candidates refusing to work with one another. Ego battles. And all of it wrapped in grand declarations about “the future of the country.” What future? Whose future?
While politicians argue over possible coalitions, Israel is still confronting serious security threats on several fronts. Gaza is still burning, Lebanon and Syria are deeply unstable, and Iran continues to loom over the region. The IDF is under strain, soldiers are exhausted and families are living with constant uncertainty.
And now we are entering the high holiday season while the country remains on alert, with the sense that our problems have not been solved. They are simply piling up.
This is exactly when I would expect the political system to recognize that Israel cannot carry on as usual. Yet the power struggle still seems to take precedence over the country’s needs. Political boycotts matter more than compromise, and coalition calculations matter more than the far more urgent question of how to put Israel back on track.
Let me say this as clearly as I can: Israel cannot afford another leadership consumed by its own political battles while the country pays the price.
We are approaching October 7. Three years have passed since the devastating disaster that struck Israel. Three years in which bereaved families have been asking the same questions: What happened, who knew, who warned, who ignored the warnings, who made the decisions and who still refuses to provide answers. Three years in which Israel has still not established a state inquiry commission. Three years.
How can we talk about the country’s future while refusing to fully investigate its most immediate past? How can politicians ask the public to believe that this time will be different when the worst failure in Israel’s history has still not been subjected to a full, independent investigation?
How can they promise security without examining why Roni and the other lookout soldiers were left alone in the operations room? How can they promise that the next disaster will not happen when we have not fully established how the last one happened?
Perhaps that is exactly what this election should be about. Not who will boycott whom. Not who will sit with whom. Not who will manage to assemble a coalition. The question should be who is willing to look the public in the eye and say: I will do everything necessary to make sure this country learns the truth.
Instead, we continue as though we can simply move on. Another school year has begun with an education system still struggling to give our children what they need. Hundreds of doctors have left the country. And we continue arguing about almost everything except the question of how to put Israel back on track.
Then the High Holidays arrive. People wish one another Shana Tova, a good new year, and Chag Sameach, a happy holiday. And I find myself asking: What exactly are we celebrating? A new year without answers? A holiday while families are still living with loss? A better future while we continue to avoid learning from the past?
I am not writing this to extinguish hope. Quite the opposite. I am writing because I want us to have something more meaningful than slogans or campaign promises: real hope, grounded in truth and accountability, and strong enough to move us forward without asking us to forget what happened.
I am Roni’s father, and I refuse to accept that Israel can simply carry on as though nothing happened. I refuse to accept that the worst failure in the country’s history will become just another chapter in a history book without the truth being fully investigated, without those responsible being called to account and without the lessons being implemented. I refuse to accept that those asking us to trust in the future can continue avoiding the questions of the past.
That is why I continue to fight for a state commission of inquiry. Not out of revenge, and not to assign blame in advance, but to establish the truth: what happened, why it happened, who was responsible and how Israel can prevent another such disaster.
A country that does not investigate its failures cannot truly learn from them. And a country that does not learn puts all of our futures at risk.
 
So before the election, before the holidays and before October 7, I ask everyone seeking to lead this country to stop for a moment. Stop the boycotts. Stop settling scores. Stop fighting over political power and start talking about the country. 
Talk about its security. Its education. Its health system. Its economy. Its society. Talk about our shared responsibility to make sure the next disaster is not simply a matter of time.
Israel does not need another election campaign that divides us into camps. It needs leadership capable of bringing us together around the most basic responsibility of all: protecting our lives.
If there is one thing I ask for as the new year approaches, it is not another promise of a good year. I ask for a year of truth. A year of responsibility. A year in which Israel stops being afraid of the hardest questions and finally begins searching for the answers.
Because without truth, there can be no repair.
And without repair, there can be no future.
And Roni? Roni does not need any more promises. Roni needs her country to understand why it was not there for her. And Roni needs her country to make sure it never happens again.
This is not politics.
It is our responsibility.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>b1xlkh600fx</id> 
            <title>How Germany’s AfD is making far-right ideas mainstream</title> 
            <description>Opinion: AfD is not the Nazi Party and modern Germany is not Weimar, but history shows how radical movements can enter the mainstream by shifting the boundaries of acceptable political speech</description>
            <author>Oded Heilbronner</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/09/07/H1Q8RghOfg/H1Q8RghOfg_0_0_2026_1140_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/b1xlkh600fx</link>
            <pubDate>Tue, 08 Sep 2026 21:55:43 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>The sweeping victory of the far-right Alternative for Germany, or AfD, in the eastern state of Saxony-Anhalt earlier this week reflects a broader Western trend. Populist far-right movements are gaining strength across Europe, and in Israel as well.
One of the clearest signs is the gradual movement of ideas once confined to the political fringes into the mainstream. The important question is not only why this is happening, but how democratic societies can recognize the process before it becomes entrenched.
 
History can help, not because it repeats itself mechanically, but because similar political patterns can emerge under very different circumstances.
Far-right movements sometimes declare openly that they want to dismantle democratic institutions. Often, however, they do not. They present themselves as democratic, constitutional and respectable political forces, as victims of elites and the media, and as the authentic representatives of the "real people." Gradually, they begin to undermine the legitimacy of their opponents and of democratic institutions themselves.
Anyone seeking to understand how this works can learn from the history of the Nazi Party between 1928 and 1932, precisely during the period when it was still forced to operate inside a democratic system and exploit that system for its own purposes.
The Nazis did not campaign by simply announcing that they wanted a dictatorship. They adapted their message to different audiences, used acceptable political language and portrayed themselves as the movement that could rescue Germany from disaster.
The comparison with today’s AfD sits at the center of an increasingly heated debate. AfD is not the Nazi Party, and present-day Germany is not the Weimar Republic. Precisely because the two are not identical, however, it is worth asking what patterns do resemble one another.
Among them are the construction of an "internal enemy," the claim that one party alone represents a nation betrayed by its elites, attacks on political establishments, and the portrayal of democratic institutions as corrupt or no longer representative of the people.
The German case offers another lesson: far-right radicalization does not stop simply because it learns how to appear respectable.
Over the years, AfD has become more radical and, at the same time, more normalized. Moderate voices within the party were pushed aside while figures from its harder wing, including Björn Höcke and ideologue Götz Kubitschek, gained influence.
The strategy has been to move the boundaries of acceptable discourse gradually. Rather than say everything at once, radical movements establish linguistic and political footholds, allow the public to become accustomed to them, and then push further.
When Höcke described Berlin’s Holocaust Memorial as a "monument of shame," he was testing the limits of what could be said about Germany’s culture of remembrance.
Extremism does not need to disappear in order to become normal. It can remain extremist while increasingly being treated as a legitimate political position.
Democratic society itself also plays a role in that process.
In Germany, AfD’s radicalization occurred alongside a broader normalization of increasingly aggressive rhetoric about immigration and Muslims. The migration crisis of 2016 and terrorist attacks were used to direct collective blame toward the Muslim minority.
At times, mainstream democratic parties adopted some of the far right’s themes and arguments in an attempt to compete for its voters. That may have helped them recover some support, but it also contributed to moving far-right issues and language closer to the center of public debate.
A century ago, newspapers and Hitler’s public appearances helped accelerate the normalization of extremist discourse. Social media now makes the process vastly faster.
An extreme statement can trigger outrage, which quickly becomes a debate about freedom of speech, followed by attacks on those criticizing the original statement. Soon, the original statement itself is almost forgotten.
The outrage machinery does not have to persuade everyone. It only has to repeatedly determine what the public is talking about.
Höcke also demonstrates another method of normalization.
On the podcast Ungeskriptet, or "Unscripted," he spoke for hours about his private life, bicycle rides, walks through German forests and family life. His far-right ideas were woven into that ordinary conversation.
That is an effective way to normalize radical politics: not always presenting it as ideology, but integrating it into discussions about family, nature, identity and everyday life.
In Israel, the question of what happens when the far right reaches government or gains substantial political power is still not asked seriously enough.
How will democratic parties respond? What will state institutions do? How will the media react? And what will citizens accept?
These are not theoretical questions.
History shows that democracies do not necessarily collapse at the moment an extremist party announces that it wants to destroy them. The more dangerous process may begin when that party succeeds in presenting itself as an ordinary and legitimate part of the political system.
The lesson from history, then, is not that Israel is Weimar Germany, or that AfD is the Nazi Party.
It is simpler, and more troubling.
Democracy should fear not only the extremist who says extreme things, but the moment when everyone has become accustomed to hearing them.
The most important historical question is therefore no longer how far the far right wants to go, but how far democratic society is prepared to allow it to go.
Oded Heilbronner is a historian and cultural researcher, a professor in the History and Philosophy Unit at Shenkar College, and also teaches at Reichman University and the Hebrew University of Jerusalem</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>skynycpuzx</id> 
            <title>The firewall of the soul</title> 
            <description>Opinion: A malicious link became an unexpected Rosh Hashanah lesson: Other people’s words can hurt us, but strengthening our relationship with God and ourselves can change how we respond</description>
            <author>Rabbi Leo Dee</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2016/10/09/7313994/7313994_0_136_1300_732_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/skynycpuzx</link>
            <pubDate>Tue, 08 Sep 2026 17:26:26 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>A few weeks ago, I received a text message saying that a parcel was waiting for me. It looked completely genuine. The courier's logo was familiar, the wording was professional, and all I had to do was click on a link to arrange delivery. So I clicked. Big mistake!
Within minutes, my phone was compromised. For the next few days, I was locked out of essential apps and spent hours trying to restore them. The message itself hadn't damaged my phone. The damage only began at the moment I clicked the link and unknowingly invited malicious software into my device.
 
Everything happens for a reason, so I thought, “Perhaps this event is teaching me something about my feelings about people that “make” me question myself?” Those who are more learned than me, those who are more financially successful than me, those who have more reason to be proud of their contribution to this ongoing war.
Then I questioned myself further: “Is it possible that other people are gaining control over my emotions because I am “clicking" on what they say or do?” Just as malware cannot infect my phone without my permission, could it be that other people are determining how I feel because I have allowed my interpretation of their words or actions to enter my heart.
When someone wrongly criticizes me, my whole day is ruined. When someone ignores me, I feel rejected. If someone is more successful than me, I become jealous. I tell myself that they "made" me feel angry, rejected or inadequate, and for that I start to dislike them. But was it really them?
What if, like the virus and the phone, no one can force insecurity, resentment or anger into my heart? Other people's words and actions are only the message. The damage only begins when I "click" on them; when I accept their wrongful criticism as defining me, or allow their actions to determine how I feel. They only wound me because I have let them through my personal firewall.
This analogy has changed how I think about relationships.
I used to believe that the secret to better relationships lies in changing the other person. If only my child were more considerate, my colleague more respectful, my neighbor more thoughtful, my life would be easier.
Our Sages observed, "Kol haposel, bemumo posel"—"One who disqualifies another does so with his own blemish" (Kiddushin 70a). In other words, the faults we see most readily in others often reveal our own wounds and insecurities. The quality of my relationship with other people depends first on the quality of my relationship with myself.
When I feel secure, I do not need constant approval. I am less threatened by criticism. I do not need to tear others down to build myself up. I am less likely to feel diminished by another person's success. But that raises a deeper question: “Where does genuine self-worth come from?" 
If my identity depends on my career, my wealth, my appearance, or what others think of me, then I will always be vulnerable. My emotional firewall will always have cracks.
Real security comes from knowing that my true value comes from Hashem. I am not valuable because I am successful. I am valuable because I was created b'tzelem Elokim - in the image of God. I am a spark of Divine light, a fragment of the Infinite.
 
That is why Rosh Hashanah kicks off with us repairing our relationship with, and acknowledging, the King of Kings. And why it also kicks off ten days of working on our relationships with others.
When we repair our relationship with Hashem, we can begin to repair our relationship with ourselves. And when we repair our relationship with ourselves, our relationship with everyone else begins to change as well.
As we approach another election in Israel, we can already hear familiar voices insisting that all our problems are caused by the people on the other side. But Rosh Hashanah asks us to begin somewhere else.
Instead of asking "How can I change “them”?" it asks "How can I change myself?"
The person who truly changes the world is rarely the loudest critic. More often, it is the person who has the courage to first transform themselves.
May this Rosh Hashanah strengthen the firewall of our souls. May we spend a little less time criticizing others and a little more time introspecting. By repairing our relationship with Hashem, may we repair our relationship with ourselves, and in doing so, heal our relationships with one another. Shanah Tovah!
Rabbi Leo Dee is an educator living in Efrat, whose wife, Lucy, and daughters Maia and Rina, were murdered by terrorists in April 2023. His latest books - “The Seven Facets of Healing” and “The Business Case for Israel” - are both available to order from Amazon and in Israel from Bookpod. </full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>hyt00duhufg</id> 
            <title>Germany’s absurd domino effect</title> 
            <description>Opinion: Germans looking for answers to the country’s mounting problems are instead getting governments unable to reach agreement on the issues most critical to German society</description>
            <author>Zeev Avrahami, Berlin</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/09/07/ByzK7ghdMg/ByzK7ghdMg_0_0_2900_1633_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/hyt00duhufg</link>
            <pubDate>Tue, 08 Sep 2026 02:50:00 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>A little more than 11 years ago, Angela Merkel, then Germany’s all-powerful chancellor, wanted her Obama moment. Instead of the “Yes, we can” slogan used by the president who led the Western world alongside her, Merkel chose a similar phrase: “Wir schaffen das” — “We can do this” — she said of the challenge of absorbing more than a million refugees, most of them young men fleeing wars in Muslim countries.
For the German public, this culture of welcome marked a high point in Germany’s effort at historical redemption. The record had flipped. From the nation responsible for the greatest manifestation of evil in history, Germany had become a standard-bearer for human rights.
 
Except it turned out Germany could not do it, and the challenge became a crisis. Whichever way you look at Germany today, the writing on the wall is enormous: “Caution: deadlock. Closed for repairs.” There is a housing crisis, a collapsing economy, an enormous energy crisis, a security crisis to the east that includes relentless hybrid attacks by Russian intelligence, a crisis with America, Volkswagen — the “people’s car” — laying off tens of thousands of workers and closing factories, a trade crisis with China, Trump and his whims, Germany’s sense of being orphaned by Mother America, a NATO crisis and trains — another source of German national pride — that never arrive on time. And that is only a partial list. Even the German national soccer team has become just another team.
It is neither possible nor fair to blame the refugees for all these crises. They are blamed mainly for matters involving Germans’ sense of personal security, particularly among Jews. Germany and every European country need immigrants. The continent faces a birthrate crisis and its countries need workers.
There were two problems with the refugees who arrived in 2015. The first was that the war in Ukraine in 2022 brought hundreds of thousands more refugees to Germany, giving residents an opportunity to compare Muslim-Arab immigration that often lived alongside German culture with European-Christian immigration that sought to enter mainstream life as quickly as possible.
The second, and more fundamental, problem was how the decision to accept the refugees was made and carried out. In the eyes of many Germans, the political, cultural, academic and legal elites of Berlin, Hamburg, Munich and Frankfurt imposed a new reality on them. Nobody asked them.
That crisis brought Alternative for Germany, or AfD, back to life. The party was originally born against the backdrop of the economic crisis. The refugee challenge went on to shape its agenda: a fascist party with fascist ideas, hostile to immigrants, pro-Russian, in favor of breaking away from the European Union, with antisemitic overtones and an effort to diminish the place of Holocaust remembrance in German history.
The party’s popularity has created an absurd domino effect.
Because AfD is regarded as a threat to the German Constitution, accused of undermining the foundations of democracy and monitored by Germany’s domestic intelligence service, every other party is doing everything possible to keep it out of the political game.
That means the Social Democrats, the Greens and the conservatives — parties that have almost nothing in common — form governments around a single objective: excluding AfD.
Germans looking for answers to all their troubles and problems are left with governments unable to agree on the issues most critical to German society. Many voters have grown tired of the traditional parties and are turning to AfD’s promises.
In the last federal election, AfD doubled its strength, became the second-largest party and the leading opposition force. It now leads the polls with 28% support, eight percentage points ahead of the conservatives in second place.
Where Germany was in 2016 and where it is today
Yesterday’s results in the state of Saxony-Anhalt represent another escalation. Nearly 44% of eligible voters in the state cast their ballots for AfD. Some 250,000 first-time voters chose AfD. The party has a future.
At its current numbers, AfD could join forces with Sahra Wagenknecht’s party, another pro-Russian movement with fascist overtones, and form a government.
The elites in Berlin, Hamburg, Munich and Frankfurt have been demanding for some time that AfD be banned. But that is a typically German treatment: lift the rug and sweep the dirt under the sofa. Germany needs a thorough Passover cleaning.
It wants to eliminate the symbol. But AfD’s content and substance remain. Unfortunately for the elites, they cannot revoke the voting rights of 30% of the country’s citizens.
Nor can one claim that 44% of Saxony-Anhalt’s residents are Nazis, far-right extremists or antisemites. There is such a hard core, but it is negligible compared with the majority of AfD voters who are simply fed up, feel neglected and believe nobody listens to them. They are willing to accept AfD’s empty promises because at least the party appears to care about what they have to say.
It is worth remembering where Germany stood in 2016 and where it stands today. That gap explains AfD’s popularity. Back then, Germany had conquered Europe without a single tank. It was still intoxicated by its fourth World Cup championship, powered by enormous economic strength and brimming with self-confidence. It led the camp fighting for human rights and against the climate crisis. This was the new Germany, the one that even persuaded thousands of Israelis to forgive it and move there.
Germany today is economically battered and politically paralyzed. From a country devoted to pacifism, it has become one of the world’s leaders in the arms race and is openly declaring its ambition, once again, to build the strongest military in Europe.
The leftist-Islamist alliance has made its public space dangerous for Jews and even Germany’s attachment to Israel and concern for its continued existence are now in question.
 
AfD offers, well, an alternative. It offers an immensely charismatic figure in Ulrich Siegmund, a TikTok star who gives everyone he speaks with the feeling that he cares about them.
There should be no mistake: AfD is a dangerous party — dangerous to democracy, the law, public order, Jews, the judiciary and democratic institutions. An AfD government would give the party access to classified information and, combined with its sympathetic line toward the Kremlin, that would create an especially toxic cocktail. Given Germany’s history, it is almost unbelievable that a party like this could achieve success on such a scale.
But AfD is succeeding mainly because the other side currently offers no alternative at all. AfD has not moved an inch over the past decade. Its principles are the same principles, its words are the same words and its platform is the same platform. It has not moved. Germany and most of its citizens have — in two opposite directions.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>by30vajozg</id> 
            <title>The ‘Israeli Brexit’ risk: why the next election could reshape Israel’s ties with Europe</title> 
            <description>Opinion: Beyond security, the economy and domestic divisions, the coming vote could determine whether Israel rebuilds its relationship with Europe or continues down a path of political, economic and scientific estrangement</description>
            <author>Avi Kalo</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2015/05/12/6045403/6045403_290_0_707_398_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/by30vajozg</link>
            <pubDate>Mon, 07 Sep 2026 09:17:19 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>Israeli elections tend to revolve around security, the economy, the cost of living, religion and state, and the country’s democratic character. But the coming election is likely to carry another dramatic significance.
For decades, Israel has enjoyed a unique relationship with Europe. The European Union is our largest trading partner, a major source of investment and a key partner in research and development. Israeli companies, academic institutions and high-tech industries have benefited from access to European research and science programs, markets and networks that helped establish Israel as an innovation powerhouse.
 
In recent years, however, there has been a growing sense in Europe that the relationship has reached a turning point. The war in Gaza and its consequences have left a deep mark on European public opinion.
Some of the criticism of Israel stems from longstanding hostile attitudes, some of which have been given new framing since October 7. Some is connected to social, demographic and political changes, alongside the rise of antisemitism in Europe.
At the same time, substantive criticism is also coming from figures known precisely for their support of Israel, focusing on the prolonged war and the humanitarian situation in the Gaza Strip. Israeli policy in the West Bank is also drawing growing criticism. The expansion of illegal outposts, the rise in Jewish terrorism and the debate surrounding sensitive areas such as E1, east of Jerusalem, are viewed in many European capitals as part of a broader trend.
For many in Brussels, Berlin and Paris, the debate is no longer about a single incident. It is about whether Israel remains committed to the political principles on which its relationship with Europe has rested for decades.
Accordingly, even some of Israel’s closest friends, such as Germany and Italy, are voicing sharper criticism than in the past, while Britain has been among those leading calls for tougher measures against us. At the same time, pro-Israel forces remain active across Europe and continue to prevent the formation of a uniformly harsh line toward Israel.
This is where the meaning of an “Israeli Brexit” lies.
Israel is not a member of the European Union and therefore cannot leave it. But as a metaphor, it describes a possible process of gradual estrangement: less political trust, less willingness for commercial and scientific cooperation, and more diplomatic friction along the Jerusalem-Brussels axis.
Just as Brexit inflicted enormous damage on ordinary British citizens, while the United Kingdom continues to struggle with its consequences and is now trying, almost desperately, to rebuild its ties with the European Union, the same could happen to Israel’s public and private sectors, and to Mrs. Cohen from Hadera as well.
A deterioration in relations with Europe could cause serious damage to foreign investment in Israel, GDP per capita, research and trade, as well as to Israel’s economic, security and international standing, in ways that could make it extremely difficult to turn the clock back.
The election for the 26th Knesset is therefore not only a choice between leaders, identities and ideologies. It could also become a decision by Israeli voters about Israel’s place in the West in general and in Europe in particular.
A vote in this election is also a choice between an “Israeli Brexit,” with all the negative consequences that could come with it, and an effort to rebuild relations of trust and cooperation with one of the world’s most important centers of power, economic strength and knowledge, while preserving Israel’s standing, values and enlightened outlook among its friends in the West.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>rkccgroozx</id> 
            <title>The October 7 failure was strategic, military and tactical, but it was not betrayal</title> 
            <description>Analysis: Three years after the Hamas attack, Israel still lacks an agreed account of what went wrong; the failure was built across the political, senior military and tactical levels, while the absence of a state commission of inquiry leaves conspiracy theories room to flourish</description>
            <author>Guy Hazut</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/08/04/HJGYPhuyUMl/HJGYPhuyUMl_138_163_1022_575_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/rkccgroozx</link>
            <pubDate>Mon, 07 Sep 2026 09:06:52 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>Three years after October 7, Israel is still struggling to answer the simplest and hardest question of all: How did this happen to us? In the absence of a state commission of inquiry capable of producing an agreed factual account, the unanswered questions have become fertile ground for theories about betrayal from within and claims that information was deliberately concealed from the political leadership. But no conspiracy is needed to understand the disaster. What is required is an unflinching look at the strategic, systemic and tactical failures that accumulated over years, until they all collapsed together in a single morning.
 
Success has many fathers; failure, as the saying goes, is an orphan. But the October 7 disaster is not an orphan when it comes to responsibility. It was the result of a series of failures that developed simultaneously on three levels: the strategic-political level, the senior military-command level and the tactical level on the ground in the Gaza Division.
The scale of the failure, the depth of the collapse, Hamas’ ability to surprise and overwhelm the IDF’s defensive system in southern Israel, and the many questions that have remained unanswered ever since have created fertile ground for conspiracy theories. Chief among them is the claim that senior security officials knew about the attack, concealed the information and deliberately refrained from preventing it. Alongside it is the claim that the military and Shin Bet excluded the prime minister and did not bother to update him during the night before the attack.
When the public has no agreed answers, it begins searching for others. And as long as no state commission of inquiry is established to present the public with a complete, authoritative factual picture, such theories will continue to gain strength. This is not merely an argument about the past. When a large segment of the public stops believing state institutions and the security establishment and begins to believe that senior officials conspired against it, the cohesion on which Israeli society depends is damaged.
Next month will mark three years since the Hamas attack on October 7 and the largest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust. Despite all the time that has passed, the Israeli public still has no complete, agreed answer to one question: How the hell did this happen to us?
Like many others, Giora Eiland tries to grapple with that question in his excellent recently published book. He opens it by quoting Avigdor Kahalani: “There are three things beyond my understanding: the human body, the universe and October 7.” That sentence captures the feeling of many Israelis.
How did Hamas, a terrorist organization in Gaza, manage to surprise and overpower the strongest military in the Middle East for hours? How, 50 years after the Yom Kippur War, did it manage to execute a deception plan and surprise Israel’s intelligence and early-warning systems? Where was the IDF during the hours in which residents of southern Israel were being massacred and abducted? And what was done, and above all what was not done, with the warning signs that appeared during the night before the attack?
As more time passes since that black Saturday, and certainly as the political system enters an election period, those question marks are not disappearing. On the contrary, they are becoming weapons in the battle over responsibility for the disaster.
When unanswered questions become fertile ground for conspiracy
According to a recently published survey, around 40% of Israelis believe some version of the “betrayal from within” theory, the claim that senior security officials knew about the attack and refrained from stopping it in order to bring down the right-wing government. That figure should trouble every Israeli, regardless of political position.
Human beings find it difficult to live with uncertainty for long. We want clear explanations, causes and responsibility. In other words, we want exclamation marks instead of question marks. But when, nearly three years after the event, no agreed state body has presented the public with the complete picture, a vacuum is created. And in that vacuum, alternative versions, rumors and conspiracy theories flourish.
When political and other actors who have an interest in promoting a particular interpretation of events are added to the mix, it is hardly surprising that such theories gain traction. You cannot fight a conspiracy theory with a counter-conspiracy theory. The way to confront it is through facts, by explaining how the system actually works and determining the role each level played in the failure.
What actually warrants waking a leader in the middle of the night?
Alongside the betrayal theory, another claim has recently gained prominence, particularly among figures in the political leadership: During the night of October 6, the heads of the security establishment received unusual intelligence from Gaza but chose not to wake or update the prime minister. There is no question that determining who knew what, when they knew it and why they did not act differently requires a thorough investigation. But to examine that claim, one first has to understand how a military and security system operates in real time.
Throughout my years as a senior commander, I would make one very simple point clear to my people in our initial conversations: what they should wake me up for in the middle of the night. When my subordinates chose not to wake me and it later became clear that they had made the wrong call, I did not limit my criticism to them. I also examined myself. Had I clearly defined what I wanted to know and when?
A commander cannot expect his subordinates to read his mind. If particular intelligence or an operational event requires immediate notification in his view, he has to establish that expectation in advance.
Nights in which unusual intelligence emerged and late-night consultations were held were not exceptional in the IDF and the security establishment during the years before October 7. I personally know of dozens of such cases. Unusual intelligence emerges in a particular command. The commanding general asks to bring the chief of staff into a consultation. The head of the Operations Directorate and the head of Military Intelligence will generally join, and sometimes other senior officers as well, such as the Air Force commander or head of the Planning Directorate. A consultation takes place, and at its conclusion the chief of staff decides how to proceed and issues instructions. That is precisely the role of the senior military command.
 
If a prime minister believes that he should be updated in real time about every such event, including during the night, he must make that clear to the military leadership. This principle has nothing to do with one particular prime minister. It is a basic management principle governing the relationship between the political and military levels.
For years, there was no established procedure requiring the prime minister to participate in every nighttime operational or intelligence consultation. There is logic to that. The prime minister’s central responsibility is to manage national security at the strategic level, not to replace the chief of staff, regional commanders or division commanders in making operational and tactical decisions.
None of this absolves anyone of responsibility for what happened that night. Quite the opposite. A commission of inquiry must determine exactly what information each person possessed, how it was analyzed, what decisions were made and why. But the mere fact that a nighttime consultation took place without the prime minister does not, in itself, prove that he was deliberately excluded, and it certainly does not prove betrayal.
Anatomy of a collapse: strategic, military and tactical failure
Managing war is among the most complex human endeavors. The theoretical knowledge surrounding warfare has accumulated over thousands of years, but the greatest difficulty is not simply knowing that knowledge. It is applying it under pressure, uncertainty, danger and incomplete information. There is a reason it is called the “art of war.”
That art operates simultaneously on three levels: the strategic level, where the political leadership defines the overarching objectives and directive; the operational level, where senior military commanders translate those objectives into a plan of action; and the tactical level, where forces on the ground determine how that plan will be implemented. One reason the October 7 failure was so severe is that it did not occur at only one level. It developed at all three, and at the decisive moment all three collapsed together.
The strategic-political failure: For years, the Israeli government pursued a policy aimed at deepening the division between the Gaza Strip and the West Bank. In 2018, when the Palestinian Authority stopped paying salaries to employees in Gaza and Hamas found itself under pressure, Israel faced demands to prevent further deterioration and escalation. Fearing escalation, Israel turned to Qatar and allowed money to flow into the Strip. The policy was intended to stabilize the situation in the short term. In practice, it also helped sustain Hamas rule and its military buildup for war against Israel.
At the same time, substantial offensive military capabilities were developing for more than a decade in both Gaza and Lebanon. Hezbollah and Hamas built large commando forces designed to shift within hours from routine operations to attacks against communities in northern and southern Israel. This reality contradicted fundamental principles of Israel’s security doctrine, yet the political leadership refrained from directing the senior military command to launch a preemptive war to remove the threat.
The systemic-military failure: The senior military command operated for years within that policy but did not challenge it to the degree required. Contrary to military doctrine, a significant part of the defensive deployment along Israel’s southern and northern borders relied on relatively limited forces and on the assumption that intelligence would identify a change in enemy intentions and provide sufficient warning.
Put simply, instead of building a defense capable of holding even if intelligence was wrong, the system became deeply dependent on warning. That was a systemic vulnerability. When the assumption about Hamas’ intentions collapsed and intelligence failed to provide the necessary warning, it became clear that the defensive system itself had not been built to withstand Hamas’ offensive capabilities on its own.
The tactical failure: The tactical level, the forces of the Gaza Division responsible for protecting the border communities, was also captive to the same conception. The forces did not believe Hamas was capable of, or intended to carry out, an attack on the scale that ultimately took place. They relied on the same assessment of Hamas’ intentions accepted by the levels above them. But even when an intelligence assessment is wrong, a military force must be prepared for the possibility that the enemy will surprise it.
On October 7, deep failures were exposed in the operational culture, readiness and alertness of some forces. At the decisive moment, systems that were supposed to defend the border and its communities were not sufficiently prepared for their mission.
Hamas identified the distortion at all three levels. This is evident from the “Jericho Wall” document, Hamas’ operational plan, and from enemy documents captured during the war. When the strategic, operational and tactical levels all acted in ways fundamentally contrary to what was required of them, everything collapsed like a house of cards at 6:29 a.m.
This was a military failure, not betrayal
October 7 was first and foremost a military failure. Even under a mistaken political and strategic conception, the IDF, through the Gaza Division, the Air Force and Military Intelligence, was obligated to fulfill its most basic purpose and defend the residents of the border communities. But there is still an enormous gulf between catastrophic professional failure and accusing the heads of the security establishment of betrayal.
Anyone deeply familiar with the flow of intelligence inside Israel’s security establishment knows that the person with the most complete picture of what is happening in Gaza is the Gaza Division intelligence officer, just as the Galilee Division intelligence officer is the leading expert on Lebanon. Intelligence from all the relevant agencies, including Unit 8200, Shin Bet and Mossad, flows to his desk.
On October 7, the Gaza Division intelligence officer was an officer who came from the religious Zionist community and was also the son of one of the prime minister’s closest security advisers. That intelligence officer, the IDF’s leading expert on the Gaza arena, shared the assessment of the Southern Command intelligence officer that night: the warning signs did not warrant excessive alarm and did not indicate an anomaly requiring preparations for war.
Had that officer thought differently that night, no one in the security establishment could have, or would have tried to, “silence” him. Quite the opposite. Everyone would have understood that if the senior expert on the arena was alarmed, the entire system needed to be alarmed.
The problem that night was not that someone knew with certainty and concealed it. The far more serious problem was that an entire system saw the signs but interpreted them through a conception that had become too deeply embedded at every level.
So how the hell did this happen to us?
October 7 may remain an event that many Israelis will struggle for years to comprehend. That is the nature of a failure on this scale. The gap between the power of the State of Israel and what happened during those hours is so enormous that it can sometimes seem easier to believe somebody wanted it to happen than to accept that large, professional and experienced systems can fail so completely.
But military history shows that they can. The collapse of the Maginot Line and the Atlantic Wall during World War II, Pearl Harbor, the conception that led to Israel’s collapse at the outset of the Yom Kippur War, and 9/11 are only some of the examples. No betrayal is required to explain October 7.
There is more than enough already: a flawed political conception, a policy that was not adjusted in time, intelligence that misread the enemy, excessive dependence on early warning, defensive systems that did not match the threat, inadequate readiness, and failures in command and response.
 
These are difficult explanations. In some ways, they are even harder than a conspiracy theory because they force us to recognize that the failure was not the act of one person or a secret group. It was the product of an entire system.
But responsibility must be based on facts. As long as no state commission of inquiry is established to examine the political leadership, the IDF, the intelligence community and the decision-making process, and to present the public with a single, authoritative and comprehensive factual account, a vacuum will remain.
And inside that vacuum, conspiracy theories will continue to flourish.

Brig. Gen. (res.) Guy Hazut is a senior researcher at the Institute for National Security Studies and former head of the IDF’s operational learning system</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>s1ay23sdml</id> 
            <title>Middle East is watching Israel’s election to see if it still has the strength to deter Iran</title> 
            <description>Analysis: Arab capitals are watching Israel’s election for more than political change, weighing whether the next government can preserve military deterrence, confront Iran and its proxies, and keep the Abraham Accords anchored in Israeli strength</description>
            <author>Amine Ayoub</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2013/01/22/4415532/4415532_3_106_998_562_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/s1ay23sdml</link>
            <pubDate>Mon, 07 Sep 2026 07:35:40 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>When Israeli citizens cast their votes on October 27, 2026, they will participate in a unique constitutional milestone. For the first time since 1988, an Israeli parliament has completed a full statutory four-year mandate without undergoing premature dissolution. Yet this national election is also the first legislative vote conducted in the aftermath of the October 7, 2023 assault and the prolonged multi-front conflict that subsequently expanded across Gaza, the West Bank, Lebanon, and Iran. Inside the domestic political campaign, debate focuses intensely on internal governance, judicial reform legacies, economic burdens on military reservists, and the complex parliamentary arithmetic needed to secure a sixty-one seat majority. 
Outside Israel, across the intelligence headquarters of Riyadh, Abu Dhabi, Cairo, and Manama, the election is evaluated through a completely different lens. For Middle Eastern state managers, October 27 is an audit of a core strategic variable: whether the next leadership in Jerusalem retains the military deterrence, strategic clarity, and political willingness to project decisive force across a turbulent regional environment.
 
A dominant view in Western and Gulf analysis contends that expanding normalization requires Israel to offer diplomatic flexibility, tactical restraint, and tangible political progress toward Palestinian statehood. This argument reflects genuine structural constraints. Cumulative Israeli policy choices since October 2023, including intensive military operations in Gaza, expanded West Bank settlement footprints, and an unyielding unilateral posture, have independently raised the domestic political cost of public alignment for signatories in Abu Dhabi, Manama, and Rabat. Official statements from Riyadh confirm that formal Saudi normalization remains firmly tied to an irreversible pathway toward a Palestinian state. Furthermore, critics note that unconstrained Israeli military dominance can itself generate secondary escalation risks, creating regional unpredictability, threatening ambitious economic modernization initiatives like Saudi Vision 2030, and periodically disturbing critical commercial maritime trade corridors, vital regional airspaces, strategic energy infrastructure, and vital commercial shipping lanes across the broader Middle Eastern security environment.
While these factors represent real binding constraints, treating them as the primary driver of regional alignment misreads the fundamental mechanics of Middle Eastern regime survival. Rebutting this counter-argument requires recognizing how pragmatic Arab states evaluate threat priorities. Arab monarchies construct their strategies on state preservation, not ideological solidarity or public approval. They operate in a high-risk neighborhood threatened by Iranian ballistic missile proliferation, drone swarms, and armed proxy networks. While Israeli military dominance creates periodic friction, a hesitant or weak Israel represents an immeasurably greater existential threat to Gulf regimes. The 2020 normalization was grounded in a cold assessment of mutual interest: as Western security commitments shifted, regional states sought an unshakeable, technologically superior military power capable of balancing aggressive adversaries in Tehran.
This structural reality aligns with the core insights of Ze'ev Jabotinsky's Iron Wall doctrine. Jabotinsky argued that durable agreement is never reached with a vulnerable entity seeking acceptance; it is negotiated only when regional actors conclude that an entity possesses an insurmountable military reality. In contemporary terms, formidable Israeli military power is a necessary, foundational prerequisite for regional integration. While hard power alone may not automatically overcome every diplomatic barrier or Palestinian issue constraint, its absence renders any alliance worthless. A strong Israel that generates diplomatic friction remains a valuable security asset to Gulf capitals; a weak Israel that offers concessions while projecting military hesitation becomes strategic deadweight. When Israel demonstrates resolve, it lowers the strategic risk for Arab rulers to maintain quiet security cooperation. Conversely, visible operational hesitation raises the cost of alignment, forcing pragmatic regional leaders to hedge their long-term positions by seeking tactical de-escalation with Tehran or deepening strategic ties with global rivals in Beijing and Moscow.
As the intense political campaign for the twenty-sixth Knesset enters its crucial final phase, regional security services across the Middle East are closely monitoring three potential post-election scenarios. Each distinct outcome presents a different strategic trajectory for the future of the Abraham Accords and the broader regional security architecture.
Scenario One: Absolute Deterrence and Strategic Capability. In this outcome, the government formed after October 27 establishes a resolute, security-first posture. It prioritizes the relentless degradation of hostile proxy networks, enforces strict perimeters along its borders, and advances defense capabilities independently. Adopting this hard-power posture involves secondary trade-offs. Unyielding military dominance and ongoing West Bank friction generate escalation risks, commercial shipping friction, and domestic public pressure on Arab partners, preventing an instant, frictionless expansion of public diplomatic ties or rapid Saudi normalization breakthroughs. However, this approach successfully preserves the vital non-negotiable security floor of the Accords. Behind closed doors, Gulf intelligence services maintain deep operational coordination, joint air defense integration advances consistently, and Saudi Arabia continues to view Israel as an essential security counterweight against Iranian regional ambitions until broader diplomatic conditions permit formal, public expansion across the broader Middle Eastern regional theater.
Scenario Two: Strategic Hesitation and Diplomatic Appeasement. The second scenario involves a government that attempts to buy regional goodwill through operational restraint, unilateral pauses, and diplomatic concessions intended to satisfy foreign critics. While this approach might draw temporary praise in Western diplomatic forums, it produces destabilizing effects in the Middle East. Within regional security culture, operational restraint in the face of active threats is consistently interpreted as eroded resolve. If an Israeli administration demonstrates that it can be maneuvered into compromising its defense posture, Arab security managers will question its dependability during a crisis. If Jerusalem hesitates to defend its own perimeters with total conviction, neighboring capitals will not rely on Israeli power to safeguard regional stability. Under this scenario, existing Abraham Accords partners will scale back public diplomatic engagement, reduce joint security initiatives, and relegate relations to quiet channels, while prospective normalization efforts freeze completely across the board.
Scenario Three: Political Paralysis and Strategic Drift. The third scenario represents an inconclusive election outcome that plunges Israel into another period of parliamentary deadlock and coalition instability. In a rapidly shifting environment where regional security threats evolve continuously, political paralysis in Jerusalem creates a dangerous vacuum. Regional regimes managing immediate threat environments cannot suspend their security planning while Israeli political factions conduct prolonged internal negotiations over coalition positions. If Israel appears trapped in domestic deadlock and unable to project consistent regional power, Arab capitals will execute a bypass strategy. Washington and Gulf states will advance bilateral defense arrangements that circumvent Jerusalem, while regional states expand tactical diplomatic dialogue with Tehran to manage their crucial security exposure. Israel will find itself increasingly sidelined, watching passively as the future security architecture of the Middle East is constructed without its direct participation.
The central lesson of the post-October 7 landscape is that perceived weakness is a primary catalyst for regional instability and geopolitical hedging. The pragmatic regional actors shaping the Middle East evaluate the upcoming election through a realistic, capability-driven lens. They are not focused on internal political debates regarding parliamentary committee assignments, nor are they seeking an Israeli government that seeks approval at the expense of military deterrence. They require a definitive answer to a fundamental question: does the future leadership in Jerusalem possess the strategic resolve to project power, neutralize existential threats without hesitation, and maintain the Israel Defense Forces as a reliable regional anchor?
 
If Israeli voters elect a government committed to unyielding national resolve and military capability on October 27, Israel's strategic value across the Middle East will remain intact. Under such conditions, the Abraham Accords can navigate current diplomatic headwinds, preserve essential underlying security cooperation, and eventually expand into a durable regional framework. However, if the election yields strategic hesitation, domestic drift, or an inclination toward appeasement, Israel will discover that in the unforgiving theater of the Middle East, those who project weakness do not earn peace or respect. They invite aggression, encourage regional hedging, and suffer long-term strategic isolation. The choice facing the Israeli electorate on October 27 will decide whether Israel remains an indispensable regional power or forfeits its strategic position to the relentless pressures of a volatile neighborhood.

Amine Ayoub, a fellow at the Middle East Forum, is a policy analyst and writer based in Morocco. Follow him on X: @amineayoubx</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>sjgdsgsogg</id> 
            <title>The danger of normalizing Palestinian population transfer</title> 
            <description>Opinion: Since the October 7 massacre, Israelis' attitude toward the idea of ​​transfer has changed dramatically; in the shadow of the trauma, the idea has moved to the center of the discourse and is embodied in the agenda of right-wing parties</description>
            <author>Dr. Michael Milshtein</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/06/20/r1n00bRQfMe/r1n00bRQfMe_0_313_3000_1688_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/sjgdsgsogg</link>
            <pubDate>Sun, 06 Sep 2026 18:47:26 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>The debate over transfer has existed within the Zionist movement from its inception. Senior figures in the movement gave considerable thought to the possibility of relocating the Arab population from the Land of Israel, usually through economic incentives or agreements with countries near and far. 
Gaza, identified with the refugee problem, always occupied a central place in the discussion, particularly after Israel took control of it in 1967, when numerous — and unsuccessful — projects were advanced to thin out or empty the enclave of its residents.
 
The secret of Zionism’s strength was always its ability to advance a bold, groundbreaking vision while at the same time acting soberly, identifying limitations and potential pitfalls and, accordingly, showing flexibility and changing policies and goals. This was reflected in the idea of transfer. As it became clear over the years that the chances of implementing it were slim, that efforts to do so would exact a heavy diplomatic price and that it was difficult to persuade Palestinians to uproot themselves “voluntarily,” the idea was pushed to the margins of public discourse. It never disappeared, but it was generally regarded as delusional and even reprehensible, and identified with extremist movements.
Attitudes toward transfer have changed dramatically since the October 7 massacre. In the shadow of the painful trauma, the idea has gradually moved into the mainstream and is now embodied in the agendas of right-wing parties: Netanyahu continues to cling to Trump’s vision of a Mediterranean Riviera, even though Trump himself abandoned the issue long ago, Katz established a migration directorate whose activities remain unclear and the parties to Likud’s right define “voluntary migration” as a central objective.
The debate over transfer reflects the changes in Israeli society since October 7. First and foremost, it is evidence of complex, sober thinking being replaced by fantasies. All this is taking place under the guise of a false image of “correcting the failed thinking that preceded October 7,” which is attributed to “other people.” It is accompanied by contempt for criticism, particularly warnings about the loss of international legitimacy, a concern that once stood at the heart of statesmen’s calculations.
U.S. Ambassador to Israel Mike Huckabee, an unequivocal supporter of Israel in general and the right-wing camp in particular, held up a difficult mirror when he said last night that Jewish terrorism is running rampant in the West Bank and that there is no plan to forcibly remove people from Gaza. The rest of the world is far harsher in its criticism, both regarding what is happening in the West Bank and the evolution of the transfer debate.
The transfer discourse also reflects a radicalization of Israel’s values. The criminal October 7 massacre, accompanied by aspirations to destroy Israel that have not disappeared, justified the severe blows inflicted on the Palestinians during the war. They can be compared with other peoples that suffered brutal attacks and retaliated against their enemies, such as the Soviet Union in Nazi Germany or the Americans in Japan.
 
But even the lust for revenge is supposed to have limits and logic. It cannot serve as a collective compass or as justification for every type of action at all times, nor can it replace a realistic analysis of the geopolitical map in the region and the world and the formulation of a strategic objective rooted in reality.
Transfer from Gaza, like swallowing up the West Bank, largely embodies the “religionization” of strategic discourse in Israel. These are faith-based, sectoral objectives wrapped in a misleading cosmetic veneer of “strategy,” designed for the broader public, which is less receptive to songs of praise about the need to destroy Amalek and the Philistines - as was recently sung before Netanyahu in Sderot; discrimination against non-Jews in the spirit of the Bible - including Arab citizens such as Yoseph Haddad; silence in the face of severe violence against Palestinians and the burning of mosques in the West Bank; and enthusiasm for building the Temple — aspirations imposed on the public as a whole and presented as “national goals belonging to all of us and for all of us.”
The normalization of transfer is reflected in the casual discussions taking place with proponents of the idea in the media, without confronting them with difficult questions about how the vision would be implemented, its ethical and moral dimensions and the consequences of attempting to carry it out. The media must not “go along” with the effort to normalize it, but instead must cast doubt and raise pointed questions, as it failed to do before October 7, while also avoiding the creation of a forced “symmetry” on the issue.
Throughout history, peoples led by detached fantasies and messianic ideologies have collapsed, and Jews know this well, particularly from the destruction of the Second Temple. The Palestinians initiated the October 7 massacre, see themselves as victims of the war, are not engaging in soul-searching and many of them reject Israel’s right to exist.
Had Israel been a global empire in ancient times, perhaps it could have taken drastic measures. But it is a country that aspires to be part of the family of nations in the 21st century, whose power is not unlimited, which cannot function as an autarkic economy or as a new Sparta, or geographically and demographically engineer the region. It has also been proven that it cannot annihilate its enemies, as the leadership promises its citizens.
A sober Israel is not one addicted to force, acting to realize dangerous illusions and believing in its ability to wage an eternal war. It is one that knows how to strike when necessary but also how to advance arrangements, and recognizes that there are no perfect scenarios or magic solutions.
Normalizing transfer, let alone promoting ways to implement it, will damage — and is already damaging — Israel’s legitimacy in the world and its image as a measured state. It appears that most of its citizens neither recognize this nor understand the consequences, foremost among them growing pressure, punishment and isolation.
This sharpens the realization that, since October 7, Israel may have dealt severe blows to its enemies, but it is suffering from the disintegration of its internal consensus, a radicalization of the values and language of public discourse that once prevailed and devastating damage to its international legitimacy — pillars of its existence that are no less important than military power, and perhaps even more so.
Dr. Michael Milshtein is a senior researcher at the Moshe Dayan Center at Tel Aviv University.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>byiua5qufl</id> 
            <title>Netanyahu’s real election test isn’t when he woke up on Oct. 7, but his record in power</title> 
            <description>Opinion: As parties race to finalize their slates, Netanyahu faces judgment over his years in power, while Eisenkot, Lapid and Lieberman enter the campaign from sharply different positions</description>
            <author>Shimon Shiffer</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/09/03/SkFL3hUOzl/SkFL3hUOzl_0_0_3000_1689_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/byiua5qufl</link>
            <pubDate>Sun, 06 Sep 2026 11:08:44 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>Tomorrow afternoon, the first representatives of Israel’s political parties will arrive at the Central Elections Committee to submit their candidate lists for the 26th Knesset. Until the filing period closes Tuesday at 10 p.m., we will hear about mergers, last-minute recruits and those pushed off the slates, who will soon be watching events in the Knesset on television instead of taking part in them.
But amid all the maneuvering over names and positions, the most interesting story is Benjamin Netanyahu. Look at what has happened to him. He heads the ruling party. His campaign managers like to describe him as being “in a league of his own.” Yet he has been unable to recruit even one prominent, respected figure capable of bringing new voters to Likud and helping obscure the depths into which this government has taken us over the past four years.
 
Mr. Netanyahu, your election problem is not what time you were awakened on October 7. It is the years in which you were prime minister. That is what Israelis will be asked to judge when they enter the voting booth.
What about the other contenders?
Gadi Eisenkot arrives prepared for the task of repairing what has happened here. There is something highly symbolic in Shirel Hagag of Ofakim joining him. Hagag’s sister Eli and her family were wounded when terrorists set fire to their home on October 7. He knows firsthand the price paid for the way this country has been governed.
Yair Lapid presents a very different picture. Behind the pleasant exterior lies a remarkably ruthless streak. He severed his relationship with Ehud Olmert in one sharp move, and now he is removing people who stood beside him while he built Yesh Atid. My prediction: Lapid, too, is approaching the end of his political road.
 
Gilad Erdan and the other figures who briefly challenged us by announcing plans to form political parties remind me of something from childhood. We used to blow through a plastic ring into a mixture of water and a dishwashing liquid called “Ama,” then chase the bubbles that appeared. Within less than a minute, they burst. The same thing happened to Erdan, who announced Friday that he would not run. An “Ama” party.
Avigdor Lieberman is another matter. Anyone still hesitating over whether to vote for him should watch Omri Assenheim’s interview with him. He is the most experienced of the contenders and the person most deserving of a seat at every major decision-making table.
Gideon Sa’ar convinced me once
Gideon Sa’ar once persuaded me not to vote for Netanyahu, and I voted for Sa’ar. So I smiled when I heard him now explain that Eisenkot lacks experience and is therefore unfit to serve as prime minister.
 
Gideon, you convinced me, but you did it earlier. I will continue to be angry over the poison machine that tried to destroy you, politically and personally.
A message about exclusion
Avi Gil, wise and sharp as ever, spent decades as one of Shimon Peres’ closest aides. He recently wrote to me:
“I’ve had enough. I will not sit under someone tainted, under someone who won’t enlist, under someone who didn’t wake anyone, under someone who didn’t wake up, under someone who never decided anything in any arena, under someone with an ego and under someone unwilling to kiss my ass.”
A message for Yoaz Hendel and for every list that promises to exclude Israel’s Arab citizens from the basic right not only to vote, but to participate in government.
Listen to other voices
The poet Else Lasker-Schüler arrived in Jerusalem in 1937 and lived here in dire poverty. Today she is regarded as one of Germany’s national poets. Nathan Zach translated a fragment of one of her poems:
“Sometimes a single person is an entire people, yet every person is a world and has a kingdom of heaven, if only he nurtures the nobility growing within him. God above does not ask that blood be spilled in His name. Whoever kills his fellow man has killed the God within him.”
Our country is strewn with violence. Listen to other voices. Perhaps we will awaken to a different world.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>h1y6d8qdzg</id> 
            <title>When the brotherhood of warriors is replaced by ideological tests of submission | Opinion</title> 
            <description>C, a paramedic in the reserves: 'The whole world takes a cue from the soldiers who refused to go on a mission because there was a woman in the namir; I want you to remember Agam Naim, who fell in Gaza while trying to save a life, and the religious friends on her team who still admire her.</description>
            <author>Chen Artzi Sror</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/09/03/yk14887319/yk14887319_1_55_945_532_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/h1y6d8qdzg</link>
            <pubDate>Sun, 06 Sep 2026 06:22:01 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>In the WhatsApp group “Reservists for Paramedics Only,” dozens of job postings are sent every week. Three years into the war, the IDF is struggling to fill manpower gaps and is scraping together medical teams wherever it can. 
Male and female paramedics are attached to every maneuvering force: in Gaza and Lebanon, in the West Bank and on special operations. Their purpose is singular — to save lives. But in an Israel where gestures and symbols often outweigh reality, soldiers who refuse to go on an operational mission because a female paramedic is present become martyrs, receive applause from rabbis and journalists and even find government ministers rushing to whitewash the mutiny.
Last week, 16 soldiers from the Rotem Battalion of the Givati Brigade were disciplined after refusing to board an armored vehicle, arguing that prolonged time with a woman in an enclosed space violated modesty rules and Jewish law. Their commanders brought in the Givati Brigade rabbi, who ruled explicitly that there was no halachic prohibition for an operational need and ordered them to board the vehicle, but they maintained their refusal. The mission was canceled, the soldiers were sent to military prison and the public uproar wrote itself.
 
If 15 years ago the battles over mixed-gender service were largely exhausted by religious soldiers refusing to listen to a female soldier sing, today the picture is far more complex. The proportion of female combat soldiers and women in key military roles has risen dramatically — partly because of the social struggle to open positions to women, and above all because of a significant manpower shortage that capable female soldiers knew how to fill. 
The struggles within Israeli society have also intensified many times over — polarization has reached a peak and the political power of the hard-line religious-Zionist camp within Religious Zionism and the country’s leadership has grown.
In Israel, every social struggle over the character of the state is immediately translated into the ranks of the people’s army — and that is also true when it comes to the place of women. The case of the female paramedic in the Namir armored personnel carrier invites reflection on two levels: the real challenge within the combat ranks and the struggle over the character of Israel, with the IDF serving as just another piece on the chessboard.
A test case
Female paramedics are an interesting test case because this is not a new role. The paramedic course is a difficult and selective program lasting one year and two months, and its makeup is half men and half women. The women sign under a “same law for women as for men” framework — meaning they must serve three years of regular service. The military paramedic profession was established in the late 1990s.
During the Second Lebanon War, the integration of women into the role was still in its infancy, and they were deployed mainly in routine security battalions, airborne evacuation units such as 669 or rear medical posts along the border. But the war also saw a historic precedent: the first female combat doctor operating beyond enemy lines. Lt. Dr. Marina Kaminsky, battalion physician of the 52nd Battalion in the 401st Armored Brigade, entered deep into southern Lebanon, operated under fire and provided lifesaving medical treatment to dozens of soldiers. She was awarded a Central Command commander’s citation and was the only woman to receive a citation in that war. During Operation Protective Edge, dozens of IDF female paramedics entered the Gaza Strip for the first time alongside combat forces.
“I grew up in Religious Zionism, and from the time I was born I was taught that defending the country is the most important thing there is,” says C., 24, a reserve paramedic. “I was in the religious Scouts battalion named after Bnaya Sarel, who was killed in Protective Edge, and my dream was to follow in his path.”
C. served in the regular army with Givati’s Shaked Battalion and today is doing her post-army backpacking trip in installments, between one reserve call-up and the next. “I finished training just before October 7. We didn’t even have time for a ceremony. I spent most of my service in Gaza, and the moment I was discharged I received a reserve order.
“The campaign against female combat soldiers, and female paramedics in particular, hits me in the most personal place because I know this community. These are my friends and my family. I grew up in a sector that taught me to contribute as much as I could — and now the representatives of that sector are turning their backs on me and my friends.”
C. is an impressive young woman, the kind often described as the salt of the earth. This October she will return to Israel for another round of reserve duty. Throughout the conversation she is careful to avoid inflammatory language or accusations. It is important to her to describe the difficult conditions of service as they really are, and she emphasizes the critical gap between the camaraderie among soldiers in the field and the political exploitation of rare, isolated incidents.
“In our battalion too, there are platoons of hesder yeshiva students who come for a shortened eight-month service. During the fighting there were countless difficult, uncomfortable and miserable moments. It has nothing to do with religious faith. No female soldier longs to hold in her urine for hours in order to do it discreetly, dreams of going days without a shower or wants to sleep head-to-foot inside a Namir with smelly soldiers. Being a combat soldier is not easy and it is not for everyone, but we do it because we understand the importance of the mission.
“That is also what I experienced with religious soldiers in both regular service and the reserves. They became my friends and they understood my importance within the team.
“Every paramedic has a medic assigned to them. They are a treatment team that is never separated. The medic assigned to me was a hesder yeshiva student from Otniel and he was married. On paper, that sounds like a recipe for an explosion and a protest, but in the field none of that happened. I knew exactly what his boundaries were and he knew what mine were. At first, whenever you arrive in a new platoon there is always a degree of suspicion, but part of being professional is building trust. I have no idea whether he would have preferred a man beside him, but in practical terms it does not matter — he is the person I trust most in the world. And I think that is mutual.”
In the real world, in public and professional spaces, Haredim mix, meet and change. Only in the military do we insist on building greenhouses of separation for them 
There is a moment in the conversation when C.’s voice breaks. It comes when she mentions her friend Agam Naim, the paramedic who was killed in Gaza while trying to save lives and the only female combat soldier killed during the ground maneuver.
“Agam came from Kibbutz Mishmarot. You cannot get more secular than that. And they put her with hardcore hesder yeshiva students, guys who had barely spoken more than a few words to a woman in their lives. At first it was not easy, but because she was so professional and considerate and they were professional and considerate, a special bond formed there.
“I replaced her after she was killed, and I discovered that those soldiers simply adored her. They truly felt a sense of unit pride that she was one of them and always talked about how much they trusted her and how there was no one who compared to her. While the news is full of stories about soldiers who refuse to spend two hours in a Namir with a female paramedic and everyone cashes in on it, I want you to remember Agam and her religious friends.”
Shai Fisher, 24, from Kfar Yuval, describes a similar reality.
“I started as a paramedic in the 401st Armored Brigade and then in the Givati Reconnaissance Unit. During the war I was the only woman — the entire battalion aid station was made up of men: doctors and medics who were combat soldiers. I was in Balata, Hebron and Gaza. On October 7, I was called up to Kissufim while my family was being evacuated from Kfar Yuval.
“No soldier beside me is doing me a favor. I am not anyone’s problem, and the truth is I never felt that way either. I served with religious soldiers, hesder yeshiva students and Druze soldiers — we always knew how to accommodate one another. Everyone understands that this is a difficult situation and that you have to understand the other person’s needs.
“All my experiences with the religious community during the war were wonderful. I am a direct person, and when I see someone wearing a kippah I will always ask what his boundaries are so I know how to conduct myself. God forbid they turn this into religious soldiers versus female paramedics, because that is not the reality. In the end, ideology blurs reality: In reality there are not enough paramedics. In reality it is not new for female paramedics to enter enemy territory. In reality my grandmother and my uncle were killed by a Kornet missile fired at their home. While I was sitting shiva, I was called up again for another round because the shortage is that severe.”
All the complexity evaporates at once
So in the field, everyone — religious and secular — tries to be considerate. They learn the boundaries, bite their lips in unpleasant extreme situations and undoubtedly make mistakes too. But in the political arena? There, all this complexity evaporates at once. The hard-line religious-Zionist campaign seeks to portray the integration of female combat soldiers as a progressive whim imposed on the military, while operational reality proves that it is a desperate, lifesaving necessity.
The absurdity is that those leading the most separatist and aggressive line come precisely from hard-line hesder yeshivas — the very institutions that do not lift a finger to expand the ranks of combat soldiers. Hesder soldiers serve on a shortened track, and their rabbinical leadership has aligned itself with Haredi politicians who watered down an equal conscription law. When soldiers from the Beit She’an and Mitzpe Ramon yeshivas refused an order — despite the brigade rabbi’s explicit ruling — they did so knowing full well that they would receive political and rabbinical backing. It is a show of political muscle disguised as religious devotion.
 
The refusal incident in the Namir could have remained a narrow disciplinary matter, but in the current climate it serves as an X-ray of alarming deeper processes: hubris born of an unholy alliance between governmental power and sectoral purism.
Surrender to the most extreme denominator is also what produced promises to Haredim who enlist that are completely detached from reality. Only in the IDF can a soldier in the Hasmonean Brigade be promised hermetic sterility — a promise that he will leave service exactly as he entered it and will never be forced to look at a woman in uniform. In the real world, in public and professional spaces, Haredim mix, meet and change. Only in the military do we insist on building greenhouses of separation for them.
The civic-national idea — the one that asks for consideration and mutual accommodation but firmly refuses to turn the IDF into a federation of tribes — is being trampled under short-term solutions that are destructive for the future. When the camaraderie of soldiers inside the armored vehicle is replaced by ideological tests of submission, it is not only the female paramedic who is left outside. The very idea of the people’s army begins to crack.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>hyq5gncofx</id> 
            <title>How a UN racism conference became a turning point for the new antisemitism</title> 
            <description>Opinion: Twenty-five years after Durban, the writer recalls how a UN conference meant to combat racism became a platform for attacks on Israel and Jews, helping blur the line between antisemitism and anti-Zionism for years to come</description>
            <author>Dina Porat</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2021/01/05/HJJGHuWAP/HJJGHuWAP_0_213_2048_1153_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/hyq5gncofx</link>
            <pubDate>Sun, 06 Sep 2026 03:36:30 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>This week, 25 years ago, a massive conference convened by the United Nations got underway to fight racism in Europe and North America in the wake of waves of immigration to those regions. About 16,000 participants came to Durban, South Africa, which was chosen as a symbolic location after the country’s liberation from apartheid rule. 
Preparations for the conference lasted about two years, and four preparatory conferences were held beforehand. A preparatory conference in Tehran represented Asia — Israel was not allowed to participate, and the final document included extremely harsh language against it.
Even so, we came to Durban, a small Foreign Ministry delegation, hoping the conference would fulfill at least some of its goals and hold a serious discussion about the burning problem confronting many countries — racism. But within just a day or two, the conference had turned into a violent and blatant campaign of vilification against Israel and the Jewish people. 
 
As if out of nowhere, copies of “The Protocols of the Elders of Zion” appeared, along with shirts declaring that Hitler had failed to finish the job and that it was a shame, and demonstrations where signs called for the death of Jews wherever they were. The hatred was so overt that the security personnel protecting us forbade us even from approaching the marchers.
On the morning of the third day, I approached the senior Belgian official responsible for the diplomatic delegations and asked him how a conference into which such budgets and preparations had been invested could veer off course so quickly and turn into such a campaign of vilification, as though the 162 countries and thousands of representatives who had come from around the world had nothing more important to address. 
He put a hand on my shoulder and said quietly and candidly: Representatives of countries that suffered under colonial rule want to discuss a different kind of racism, that of the past rather than the present — in their eyes, the white man is responsible for that suffering, and the role of the conference is to pay and compensate for it. Do you know, he asked, what Portugal would have to pay Brazil, Spain to most of the countries of Latin America, and — here he paused and took a breath — what Belgium would have to pay Congo? Belgium, as is known, plundered Congo’s treasures while imposing a brutal and violent occupation regime. We would all go bankrupt within a week, he said, and therefore the solution was to give in to the demand of the Arab countries — there were then 54 countries in the Muslim union — which had arrived prepared in advance, with budgets, propaganda material and crowds of demonstrators drawn from local Muslims, to divert the conference into an attack on Israel.
The discussions and battles at U.N. conferences revolve mainly around the draft — the document the conference agrees upon, which is later submitted for approval by the annual General Assembly. We therefore tried to continue resisting attempts to formulate the draft in a way that would harm Israel and the Jewish people, such as writing the word Holocaust — HOLOCAUST — with a lowercase h and an s at the end, meaning there had been many holocausts and there was nothing unique about the one that happened specifically to the Jews, or an attempt to establish in the draft that Palestinian refugees are entitled to refugee status for generations.
But the wave of hatred and attacks continued, and when representatives of Jewish nongovernmental organizations were expelled from the hall to screams of “Go, Jews, Go,” and veiled women burst into a press conference we were trying to hold, shrieking and throwing whatever objects came to hand, the U.S. and Israeli delegations got up and left the conference.
A conference like that had long-term consequences: It ushered in the era of the “new antisemitism,” characterized by more violence, more street activity, a greater presence of Islamists in antisemitic activity and a blurring of the line between antisemitism and anti-Zionism. The situation required a definition of antisemitism so that it could be fought, and one was formulated in 2005 and adopted for the first time by an international body. 
The United Nations, as though to make amends for the Durban failure, declared an International Holocaust Remembrance Day. But that very same year, Iran formally decided to deny the Holocaust, and the boycott movement, BDS, was founded and began its activity.
Expressions of antisemitism continue to multiply. Anti-Zionism is expressed more and more in antisemitic tones and imagery. Muslim money, especially from Qatar, funds the activity. Social and cultural trends fan the flames in academia as well. Political alliances view antisemitism and anti-Zionism as an anti-American strategy. All of this began at the conference that opened 25 years ago. Two days later, on Sept. 11, 2021, came the attack on the Twin Towers and the Pentagon.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>synnaq00ogg</id> 
            <title>Ceasefire deals without guarantees: Israel’s strategic challenge</title> 
            <description>Opinion: The Gaza, Iran and Lebanon deals halted fighting but left key issues unresolved, with vague commitments and weak enforcement mechanisms raising questions about Israel’s strategic position and the durability of the agreements</description>
            <author>Doron Hadar</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/06/26/HyKNULnfze/HyKNULnfze_0_249_3000_1689_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/synnaq00ogg</link>
            <pubDate>Fri, 04 Sep 2026 14:49:28 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>In recent days, we have witnessed the unraveling of the framework agreements drawn up by the United States on the various fronts: the 20-point agreement on Gaza, led by Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner, the 14-point agreement on Iran, led by JD Vance, and the 14-point agreement on Lebanon, led by Marco Rubio.
All three share a clear common denominator: They are framework agreements or memorandums of understanding, wrapped in gold packaging bearing the White House's embossed logo. Beneath the wrapping, however, lie vague language, partial commitments and, above all, a lack of effective mechanisms for dealing with violations. There is almost no discussion of what happens when one side simply fails to fulfill its commitments, or what price it will pay for doing so.
 
By the measure of results, the "axis of evil" — the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, Hezbollah and Hamas — achieved its immediate objective: halting the large-scale use of force by Israel and the United States. In return, however, the price paid by these organizations was only partial. They were hit but survived, made limited commitments and gained time.
Iran is perhaps the clearest example. The Iranians agreed to the memorandum of understanding advanced by JD Vance because they received what they needed at that moment: a ceasefire and an agreement to open the Strait of Hormuz — an agreement that in practice lasted only a few days. No agreement was reached on the nuclear issue, they refused to discuss ballistic missiles and the same was true regarding the funding and arming of proxy organizations.
In practice, Tehran bought its most valuable resource: time. Time to survive, reorganize and recover from the blows it had suffered. In return, its main commitment was to enter into 60 days of negotiations, a period that passed without a continuous and effective process developing on the core issues.
The most successful of the agreements
The 20-point Gaza agreement is, ostensibly, the most successful of the agreements. Israel received all 20 living hostages and the remains of 28 hostages — an enormous and important achievement in its own right. But here, too, the full balance of concessions must be examined: Israel released about 1,900 prisoners, including 250 of the most serious offenders, out of about 270 who were being held in prison on the eve of the deal.
Hamas also achieved significant gains. The intensive fighting stopped, most of the prisoners it had demanded be released even before Oct. 7 were freed and it did not agree to reveal its leadership or disarm. Its agreement to eventually transfer civilian rule to other Palestinian actors is not new; it has made similar statements in the past.
The picture in Lebanon is similar. The agreement was negotiated with the Lebanese state and Hezbollah, while Israel finds itself largely in the position of an observer to the implementation process. The agreement received considerable attention, at times almost as if it were the first step toward a peace deal. Some had already imagined the day when Israelis would eat hummus in Beirut.
But on the ground, the picture is far more modest. The intensive fighting has stopped, but implementation of the agreement's provisions still appears far removed from reality.
Perhaps some of the problem begins with the name. If these agreements had been called what they really are — ceasefire agreements — they might have been less glamorous and less suited to White House ceremonies, but far more accurate. Above all, it would have provided a clearer understanding of Israel's strategic position in the region.
Deep-seated failures
It is customary to think that an agreement collapses primarily because of its content, because of the gap between the written text and what each side thought had been agreed. Often that is indeed the case. But in all three current cases, deeper failures run through the process, involving the way the negotiations themselves were structured and managed.
First, who is on the other side of the table? Is this really the right party, with the authority, power and mandate to fulfill the commitments?
Second, who is the mediator? Is the mediator effective, credible and transparent? Is it capable of applying pressure to both sides and, above all, does it have the ability to enforce the agreement once the cameras are gone?
Third, what is the right negotiating tactic? Is it right to conduct intensive negotiations until a comprehensive agreement is reached on the core issues, or is it enough to settle for a partial and general memorandum of understanding that leaves the difficult disputes for the next stage?
Above all these questions is the issue of leverage. What is the right level of pressure to apply? Is there a credible alternative to having no agreement? Does the other side believe that the price of blowing up the negotiations will be higher than the price of violating the agreement?
 
There are also deeper questions: Can money replace strategic interests? Can identity be bought, or ideology sold? What matters more — the appearance of an achievement or its substance? And what place do long-term alliances have when the desire to reach a quick "deal" becomes an end in itself?
Donald Trump, who published his book "The Art of the Deal" in 1987, has long been seen as a believer in hardball negotiations: maximum pressure, the use of psychological leverage, setting grandiose goals and creating the impression that the other side faces a choice from which there is no escape.
But now he himself finds himself in a strategic bind.
To get out of it, a change in approach will be required — not only in the wording of the agreements but in the definition of their objectives. The aspirations to replace the regime in Iran, completely remove Hezbollah from Lebanon or exile Hamas from Gaza may sound good in headlines, but they cannot on their own serve as the basis for a viable policy.
Israel will have to formulate frameworks based first and foremost on clear, measurable and enforceable security principles. The United States will have to incorporate Israel's demands into the agreements themselves rather than settle for general declarations about the "day after."
And Trump, if he ultimately wants to reduce U.S. involvement in the Middle East and withdraw his forces from the region, will have to understand that the way to do so does not run through another glitzy signing ceremony. It runs through agreements that have substance.
Lt. Col. (res.) Doron Hadar is a former commander of the IDF DF Crisis Management &amp; Negotiation Units</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>hybhnavogg</id> 
            <title>How stable oil flows could leave Israel trapped in a war with Iran</title> 
            <description>Opinion: As oil flows through the Strait of Hormuz normalize, the US faces less pressure to end its war with Iran, risking a prolonged conflict that could leave Israel trapped in a war of attrition</description>
            <author>Amine Ayoub</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/06/30/BypW00i11mfg/BypW00i11mfg_1_0_1672_941_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/hybhnavogg</link>
            <pubDate>Fri, 04 Sep 2026 08:03:34 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>On September 3, 2026, American Vice President JD Vance delivered what financial markets took as a reassuring speech Maritime oil transit through the Strait of Hormuz, he announced, had returned to pre-war baseline levels, with approximately 15 million barrels of crude flowing daily despite regional hostility. Global supply chains absorbed the shock of Iranian drone attacks, crude futures stabilized and high oil prices crashing Western economies were averted. Simultaneously, reports confirmed that Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth had officially extended force deployments for military operations against Iran through 2027.
To market analysts, this combination represented a triumph of calibrated superpower management. The United States contained a Persian Gulf conflict without triggering a global energy collapse. But seen from Israel, this outcome represents a dangerous strategic trap. The stabilization of global oil prices is not a victory for Israel; it is a catastrophic success. Price normalization deprives the United States and its allies of any urgent imperative to force a decisive conclusion against Iran. With energy markets quieted and Western voters unbothered at the fuel pump, the American administration can comfortably settle into an open-ended war of attrition. For global commodities traders, this is business as usual. For Israel, managed containment is a slow, systemic bleed.
 
The illusion of a controlled conflict is the result of deliberate political messaging in the United States. In late August and early September 2026, a public rift over actual human costs laid bare the official narrative dilemma. During a national television interview, Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick characterized the conflict with Iran as a mere economic strangulation operation, claiming no Americans had been killed in direct action. Hours later, President Donald Trump clarified on social media, confirming that 18 American service members had died since the onset of major hostilities.
This messaging confusion stems from administrative renamings inside the Department of Defense. Combat operations under Operation Epic Fury, launched jointly by the United States and Israel on February 28, 2026, were declared concluded by Secretary of State Marco Rubio and Defense Secretary Hegseth on May 5. The campaign was quietly rebranded as Project Freedom and grouped under generic overseas operations in the region. When four American personnel were killed in July across Jordan and Iraq, casualty classifications were categorized under peripheral force protection mandates rather than direct combat. This bureaucratic recategorization allows the United States to reframe a major regional war as a routine maritime security patrol, creating a facade of manageable containment for a domestic electorate facing upcoming congressional elections.
When hostilities erupted across the Persian Gulf, initial military models predicted an immediate global shock. The Strait of Hormuz carries roughly twenty percent of global petroleum and traditional defense doctrine held that any sustained attempt by Iran to disrupt this maritime chokepoint would force Western powers into delivering a rapid military blow to reopen sea lanes. That assumption proved wrong. Financial markets and logistics networks did not collapse; they adapted.
This adaptability creates a dangerous double-edged sword. When oil prices spike wildly, Western politicians face immediate political crisis. Gasoline lines and runaway inflation force the American administration and European prime ministers to seek swift military resolutions or aggressive diplomatic interventions. But when markets adapt, urgency vanishes.
The crisis loses its political sting in the United States. Iranian aggression against international shipping has been transformed from an existential threat to the global economy into a routine cost of doing business. As long as global tankers keep moving, American leadership loses motivation to deal a definitive, regime-ending blow to Iran.
 
This market resilience coincides with growing strategic friction inside the American national security establishment. The preference of the United States for an open-ended, low-simmer posture ahead of national elections has come into direct conflict with long-term global force commitments. Senior military commanders across European and Indo-Pacific theaters have raised sustained institutional concerns regarding global force posture degradation. Sustaining a forward deployment of over 50,000 American personnel, two carrier strike groups, multiple guided-missile destroyers and land-based fighter wings in the Middle East through 2027 exerts immense strain on global defense readiness.
The primary operational bottleneck is ammunition expenditure. High-rate consumption of advanced naval interceptors alongside Patriot air defense missiles severely depletes stockpiles earmarked for potential high-end conflict in East Asia. Naval ship maintenance schedules are accumulating backlogs across major shipyards, forcing extended deployments that strain hull life and crew readiness. Rather than confronting Iran with decisive military leverage, the current posture of the United States consumes high-tier strategic assets to maintain an open-ended defensive shield over Gulf sea lanes.
To be sure, Iran is far from immune to structural economic stress. The country operates under severe domestic vulnerabilities, including hyperinflation exceeding 40 percent, dramatic devaluation of the national currency, chronic electrical grid brownouts and underlying risk of public unrest driven by an economically suffocated population. Ongoing regional operations require constant financial capital at a time when Iranian domestic infrastructure is deteriorating rapidly.
However, a critical analytical distinction exists between economic hardship and political vulnerability. Over four decades of international isolation, Iran has perfected the mechanics of authoritarian survival. The ruling security apparatus maintains a monopoly on violence and controls gray-market financial networks. The regime excels at externalizing economic pain directly onto its civilian population while prioritizing resource allocation for its defense apparatus and proxy network.
By contrast, democratic societies like Israel operate under entirely different structural dynamics. The highly integrated, technology-driven economy of Israel absorbs war friction through transparent political systems, active public consensus and market sentiment. High-intensity reserve mobilizations withdraw skilled labor from key productive sectors, municipal budgets strain under civil defense requirements and continuous air defense expenditures accumulate daily.
While the authoritarian structure of Iran allows it to absorb domestic economic decay over extended horizons, the democratic social contract of Israel requires strategic clarity and temporal boundaries. A slow, grinding conflict of attrition plays directly to the structural strengths of an autocratic regime willing to impoverish its people to sustain its ideological objectives.
If Israel is to avoid being trapped in an indefinite war of attrition, it must replace its rejection of containment with a clear operational framework presented directly to the United States. Israeli strategy must center on three clear operational demands to force a rapid war-ending outcome. First, the United States and Israel must establish formal red lines triggering immediate retaliatory strikes against core regime infrastructure if Iran or its proxies maintain sustained fire against Israeli territory or commercial shipping.
Second, military operations must target critical economic engines funding Iranian power projection, specifically the primary crude export facilities at Kharg Island and subterranean nuclear enrichment infrastructure at Natanz and Fordow. While striking Kharg Island would trigger a sharp, temporary global oil price surge, Israeli strategic posture must explicitly accept this short-term market shock as a necessary tradeoff to sever the revenue stream of Iran and break the paralysis of Western containment. Third, military force must compel Iran into war-ending negotiations on Western and Israeli terms, enforcing total proxy disarmament along Israeli borders and verifiable dismantlement of missile production.
The normalization of oil flows through the Strait of Hormuz may look like a victory on global commodity markets, but for Israel, it is a warning. Israel cannot allow Western energy market resilience to dictate the timeline of a war impacting national survival. Israeli leadership must compel its allies to choose between decisive strategic resolution and an endless war of attrition.
Amine Ayoub, a fellow at the Middle East Forum, is a policy analyst and writer based in Morocco. Follow him on X: @amineayoubx</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>ryxlzhddmg</id> 
            <title>Trump knows how to pressure Iran, but not how to end it</title> 
            <description>Analysis: The tactical logic is clear, but tactics are no substitute for strategy; the question is not only how Trump plans to manage the next two months, but where he wants that pressure to lead</description>
            <author>Eldad Shavit</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/09/03/Hk2VA00LOGx/Hk2VA00LOGx_0_0_850_479_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/ryxlzhddmg</link>
            <pubDate>Fri, 04 Sep 2026 06:04:54 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>The renewed round of strikes between the United States and Iran is sharpening the central contradiction in President Donald Trump’s policy. The United States has a clear military advantage, the blockade and sanctions are weighing heavily on Iran’s economy and the administration has shown it is prepared to use force again to prevent Tehran from rebuilding its capabilities in the Strait of Hormuz.
But the greater the pressure becomes, the more fundamental the question grows: What exactly does Trump want Iran to do for that pressure to stop?
 
The strikes in recent days focused on systems Iran had tried to rebuild in the Hormuz area. Iran responded by firing at U.S. targets in the region, and Trump threatened further strikes. At the same time, he stressed that the renewed campaign was not expected to last long.
It would therefore not necessarily be accurate to describe the U.S. approach as a zigzag or the result of confusion in the White House. On the contrary, in the short term, there is fairly clear logic behind it. Administration officials have said they want to minimize the risk of escalation until the midterm elections in early November, while increasing economic pressure and allowing the military to replenish munitions depleted during the campaign. After the elections, the scope of military operations could also be reassessed. Trump denies that the elections are dictating his decisions, but it is clear that the political and economic cost of the war has become a significant consideration.
In other words, the administration has a concept for how to manage the coming weeks: prevent Iran from regaining control of Hormuz, respond militarily when necessary, continue targeting its sources of revenue, especially oil exports, while doing as much as possible to avoid a return to a broader war. The pressure is indeed substantial: Iranian oil exports, according to estimates published this week, have fallen from about 2 million barrels a day to roughly 240,000.
The tactical logic, then, is clear. But tactical logic is no substitute for strategy. The question is not only how Trump wants to manage the next two months, but where he wants that pressure to lead. And even if the administration is seeking to avoid escalation, there is no guarantee it will be able to control developments on the ground. A major attack on U.S. forces, shipping or countries in the region could force Trump to respond with significant force, even if he does not want to return to a broader war.
The problem is especially apparent after the administration effectively took the June memorandum of understanding off the table. Trump has already declared that the MOU is “over,” and the administration has shown no willingness to return to the terms set out in it. The prospect of an immediate resumption of talks also appears remote: Just last week, Trump said the United States was not holding talks with Iran, as Washington shifted its focus to the economic campaign.
A return to the June MOU?
It is understandable why Trump does not want to return to the June MOU. From his perspective, Iran violated the understandings, conditions on the ground have changed and the United States has since accumulated additional leverage. From his point of view, there is no reason to offer Tehran the same deal again. But that is precisely where the problem begins: Washington is clearly saying what is no longer acceptable to it, but it is not saying with the same clarity what would be.
And this is not merely a problem for those trying to interpret Trump’s policy from the outside. It also makes matters more difficult for decision-makers in Tehran. Iran knows very well what will happen if it continues to resist: The blockade will continue, sanctions will intensify, efforts to rebuild military capabilities will be attacked and it could suffer additional blows. What is far less clear is what will happen if it decides to compromise, and above all, what Iran would receive in return. As long as there are no clear answers, the administration is not offering Iran a new deal. In practice, the message to Tehran is: Keep paying the price until you are ready to compromise — and only then will it become clear on what terms and in exchange for what.
That ambiguity makes things especially difficult for those in Tehran who may favor an agreement. Iranian President Masoud Pezeshkian continues to signal a willingness to return to a diplomatic track, and the economic pressure is undoubtedly strengthening arguments in favor of compromise. But it is difficult to persuade the Iranian leadership to accept painful concessions when it does not know whether they will be sufficient or what it will receive in return. From the regime’s perspective, the risk is not only appearing to surrender to the United States, but making significant concessions without knowing whether they will actually bring the confrontation to an end.
This is also where the risk in the current policy lies. Trump apparently believes continued pressure will eventually cause Iran to blink. He may be right. Iran is in a difficult position, its capabilities have been eroded and the economic cost continues to mount. But pressure, however effective, cannot by itself substitute for a political objective. For it to become leverage in negotiations, the adversary must understand not only the price of refusing, but also what it must do and what it will receive if it agrees.
 
Israel, too, needs to understand this. The tougher U.S. approach does not prove that Trump has adopted the goal of achieving a complete defeat of Iran. He continues to signal that he does not want a prolonged war and hopes the pressure will ultimately allow him to reach an agreement from a stronger position. But for that hope to become a strategy, the administration will have to do something it has so far avoided: spell out what the agreement it wants would look like.
Trump, then, currently has a fairly clear concept for how to apply pressure and manage the coming weeks. What he still lacks is a clear path to an endgame. And as long as Iran does not know exactly what is required of it and what it will receive in return, Washington is not only making it harder for Tehran to meet its demands; it may leave Iran with the conclusion that the only alternative being offered is surrender.
Col. (res.) Eldad Shavit is a senior researcher in the U.S. program at the Institute for National Security Studies (INSS), a former head of the Mossad’s Research Division and a former assistant for assessment to the head of the IDF Military Intelligence Research Division.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>hjms9bdofl</id> 
            <title>Building a wider circle of support around Israel’s teachers</title> 
            <description>Opinion: Israel must recruit and retain more teachers, but targeted classroom support can also give students more individual attention, more opportunities to practice English and greater confidence to speak</description>
            <author>Meir Holtz</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/09/03/HytJjZwOGe/HytJjZwOGe_1_70_2048_1153_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/hjms9bdofl</link>
            <pubDate>Fri, 04 Sep 2026 05:43:48 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>As the new school year gets underway, students in classrooms across Israel know the answer but hesitate to raise their hands when the question is asked in English. Their difficulty may not be vocabulary or grammar. Often, it is confidence: the confidence to speak, make a mistake, try again and discover that another language can become their own.
We tend to discuss English as another school subject, measured through grades, matriculation units and examinations. That view is often not enough. In Israel today, English proficiency is closely tied to access: to higher education, scientific research, technology, international business and an increasingly global employment market.
 
An English gap can therefore become an opportunity gap.
The State Comptroller has documented significant differences in English achievement between students from different socioeconomic backgrounds and sectors of Israeli society. The report also found that most candidates for higher education who had completed four- or five-unit English matriculation still did not reach the exemption level in English placement examinations. At the same time, Israel continues to face both a quantitative and qualitative shortage of English teachers.
This challenge exists within a wider staffing crisis. As of the end of July, Israel’s education system was reportedly short 3,000 teachers and an additional 200 kindergarten teachers. The shortages are concentrated in particular subjects and regions, but their effects are felt far beyond unfilled positions. They can mean larger classes, less individual attention and educators being asked to teach outside their areas of expertise.
There is no shortcut around the need to recruit, train and retain excellent Israeli teachers. The work led by the Ministry of Education to strengthen the profession must remain at the center of any serious education policy.
At the same time, effective education is inherently collaborative. This is especially true in language learning, where conversation practice, small-group work and individual attention can complement formal classroom instruction. That principle lies at the heart of Masa Israel Teaching Fellows (MITF), a partnership between Masa Israel Journey, the Prime Minister's Office (PMO), the Ministry of Education and The Jewish Agency for Israel (JAFI). By working alongside local educators under professional guidance, fellows help expand the learning opportunities available to students while reinforcing the work already taking place in Israeli classrooms.
MITF puts this collaborative approach into practice by keeping the qualified teacher at the center while adding targeted support shaped by the needs of each school. With clearly defined roles, professional supervision and close coordination with local educators, fellows can broaden the reach of classroom instruction while preserving the expertise and continuity that teachers provide.
As the 2026–27 academic year gets underway, a new cohort of dozens of English-speaking college graduates from the United States, Canada, the United Kingdom, Australia and South Africa has begun working alongside Israeli teachers for up to 25 hours each week. Additional fellows are expected to join during the second semester. Together, they will serve in communities including Jerusalem, Bat Yam, Rishon LeZion, Netanya and Beit She’an.
They are not substitutes for certified Israeli educators, and their contribution should never be presented that way. Their value lies in expanding what becomes possible around the teacher: dividing students into smaller groups, providing more opportunities for conversation and allowing children to receive attention that is difficult to provide in a full classroom.
This is particularly important in language education. Digital tools can translate a sentence instantly, and artificial intelligence can generate an English essay in seconds. But technology cannot replace the process through which a child learns to express an idea aloud, sees that someone understands and gains the courage to continue.
Language is learned through use. It requires conversation, patience, correction and repetition. Above all, it requires another person with the time to listen.
Programs of this kind must be implemented carefully. Fellows need preparation, professional guidance and clear coordination with school leadership and local teaching staff. Their impact should be evaluated according to educational goals rather than good intentions alone. When those conditions are met, additional adults in the learning environment can strengthen both students and the teachers responsible for them.
This approach should inform a broader national discussion. Israel’s teacher shortage will not be solved by one recruitment campaign or one fellowship. Alongside the essential work of expanding the teaching profession, we should build stronger support systems around educators and make more strategic use of people who can contribute specific skills under their direction.
 
The question is not simply how to place an adult in every classroom. It is how to give every teacher the professional support required to teach well, and every student a genuine chance to succeed.
The English gap cannot be closed through grammar exercises, technology or matriculation targets alone. It will close when more students are given regular opportunities to speak, practice and be heard.
With the school year now underway, the first cohort of Masa Israel Teaching Fellows has become part of that effort, with dozens more expected to join during the second semester. The most meaningful measure of their success will not be how many English words they teach, but how many students who began the year afraid to use those words find the confidence to speak.
Meir Holtz is the CEO of Masa Israel Journey, founded by the Government of Israel and The Jewish Agency for Israel.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>hj7izjvuzx</id> 
            <title>I opposed Israelis from abroad returning to vote in elections. This time I'm coming</title> 
            <description>Opinion: The Jewish state should be a source of security for world Jewry, not something Jews feel they have to apologize for being associated with; And that is exactly why I can no longer use living in New York as an excuse to stand aside</description>
            <author>Judy Shalom Nir-Mozes</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2024/08/27/SkpkW11oj0/SkpkW11oj0_42_0_893_503_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/hj7izjvuzx</link>
            <pubDate>Thu, 03 Sep 2026 16:28:50 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>For all the years I lived in Israel, I opposed the idea that Israelis living abroad should be able to vote from where they reside, as American citizens can. It was a principled position of mine long before I could have imagined that one day I myself would live in New York.
I thought there was something unfair about a person who chose to build a life outside Israel being able to sit in New York, London or Paris and influence decisions whose price would be paid by people living in Israel. Because in Israel, the cost of a political decision is not limited to taxes, housing prices or the quality of public services.
 
Sometimes the price is life and death. I have lived in New York for only three years. I spent most of my life in Israel. All my children served in the IDF. My children, my siblings, my nieces and nephews and my friends are in Israel. Israel is not a distant place to me that I observe from the outside.
And yet, since moving to New York, the question that accompanied me all those years has taken on a personal meaning: Who am I, living in New York now, to decide whether your child will be sent to Gaza?
About a month ago, I was in Israel and met a friend who lost her son in the last war. Her second son was wounded in Gaza and, after months of rehabilitation, managed to return to his life.
'You have to come'
She asked me a simple question: “Are you coming to vote?” I told her I wasn’t sure. I explained what I have believed for years. I said I wasn’t sure people living abroad should make life-and-death decisions for those who live in Israel. After all, after the election I will return to New York. You will remain.
If there was anyone in the world I would have expected to agree with me, it was her. A woman who buried one son and whose second son was wounded in Gaza.
But she told me the exact opposite. “You have to come.” That conversation has not left me.
 
Not because she instantly changed a position I had held for years. Even today, I am not convinced that an Israeli who left the country 20 or 30 years ago should be able to determine from afar the future of those who live there.
But she made me understand that this time the dilemma is different. Because in my view, this is not a normal election.
In almost every election campaign, we are told that these are “the most fateful elections in the history of the country.” The phrase has been worn down to the point that it has almost lost its meaning. But this time, I feel we are facing a question of existence.
Not because the State of Israel will disappear from the map tomorrow morning. But because the question on the table is what kind of Israel will exist here in 10 or 20 years — and whether it will still be the country our children and grandchildren want to call home.
How long can we accept a reality in which another family receives word that its son has been killed, another soldier is wounded and another young generation is sent again and again to war? But when I look at Israel today, I am also worried about what is happening far from the battlefield.
About the rising crime and violence in parts of Israeli society and the sense among citizens that the state is failing to provide them with the most basic security. About public discourse that has become violent and extreme.
A society that loses the ability to distinguish between a political rival and an enemy, between criticism and hatred, begins to dismantle itself from within. And I am worried about the education system.
A country cannot survive over time on its military alone
A country that took pride in its scientists, doctors, engineers, entrepreneurs and universities cannot ignore an education system in which students struggle to meet even the average of developed countries in key subjects, and where the gap between children whom life has given an opportunity and those it has not is so deep.
A country cannot survive over time on its military alone. It needs good schools. A functioning police force. A justice system its citizens believe in. An economy that gives young people hope. Leadership that understands that the state exists for its citizens, not the other way around. And above all, it needs to give our children a reason to stay.
My greatest fear is not who will be prime minister after the next election, but whether in 10 years our children and grandchildren will see Israel as the place where they want to build their lives, or as a place they love but feel they must leave in order to build a future for themselves.
 
And there is another reason why this time I cannot say from New York: It is no longer my concern. The State of Israel was never only the concern of Israelis. Its very existence changed the condition of every Jew in the world. For generations, Jews knew that when the place they lived in stopped wanting them, they would not necessarily have anywhere to go. Israel changed that equation.
It is the place a Jew is supposed to know exists for him even if he never needs it. But that connection works in the other direction as well.
I live in New York and see how deeply what happens in Israel enters the lives of Jews here. Antisemitism in the United States is no longer something that can be dismissed as a memory from a previous generation. It is present in the streets, on campuses and in public discourse.
And it must be said honestly: Antisemitism is the responsibility of antisemites, not of Israel. No action by an Israeli government makes hatred of Jews legitimate.
But it is also impossible to ignore that Israel and Diaspora Jews are connected to one another. When Israel is at the center of an international storm, Jews outside Israel feel it clearly.
The Jewish state should be a source of security for Jews around the world, not something Jews feel they have to apologize for being connected to. And that is exactly why I can no longer use New York as an excuse to stand on the sidelines.
 
Three years in New York do not erase an entire life in Israel. They do not erase my children’s military service. They do not erase children, siblings, nieces and nephews and friends. And they do not erase responsibility. I still believe that someone who lives abroad must speak about Israel with humility. I do not want to sit in New York and explain to a mother in Israel what price she should be willing to pay. I do not want to decide from afar whether her child will be sent to war. And that is why I am not asking for a ballot box in New York. I am getting on a plane.
I think again about my friend. About a woman who buried one son and whose second son returned wounded from Gaza.
If anyone had the right to tell me, “You live in New York now, leave the decision to us,” it was her. But she did not say that. She said: “Come.”</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>sjps68logg</id> 
            <title>Jordan has had enough of Netanyahu, and is waiting for Israel’s election</title> 
            <description>Opinion: Jordan’s peace with Israel has frozen under Netanyahu, but security ties still endure; officials in Amman are now waiting for Israel’s election, hoping a change of government could reopen the palace doors and revive a relationship left in deep freeze</description>
            <author>Smadar Perry</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2021/04/03/Hycch7UBu/Hycch7UBu_0_21_594_335_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/sjps68logg</link>
            <pubDate>Thu, 03 Sep 2026 05:42:24 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>This was already the third Iranian missile and drone attack on Aqaba. On Monday night, Jordanian security officials rushed to send alerts to residents’ phones, urging them to take shelter in bomb shelters, of which there are none, or in underground parking areas beneath residential buildings, of which there are few, or simply to “find a safe place.”
Some of the 2,500 workers and hotel employees who cross the border into Israel every morning and return to Jordan in the evening were given permission to stay overnight in Eilat until the end of the week.
 
King Abdullah II and his eldest son Hussein, the crown prince, remained silent this time. They heard Iranian claims that “dozens of American military personnel” had been killed or wounded. Statements from Washington and Amman told a different story: 10 missiles were shot down over the Tinten training base in Aqaba, while another three were intercepted without causing damage.
Notice how none of Jordan’s neighboring countries, Iraq, Syria or Lebanon, has come to its aid. In the Gulf states that continue to absorb Iranian attacks, Kuwait and Bahrain are preoccupied with their own problems. Saudi Arabia is keeping its distance, while the United Arab Emirates is waiting for the moment when mediation between Jordan and Israel can begin.
Senior military officers are not only monitoring Iranian activity but also speaking with their counterparts in Jordan. There are no embassies, no economic or commercial relations and fierce hostility on the Jordanian street, but security cooperation and consultations have managed to survive.
From conversations with decision-makers in Amman, I hear one clear, irritated and unequivocal message: Jordan continues to receive vital quantities of Israeli water for drinking and agriculture, almost as though that water is meant to compensate for Israel’s conscience over a relationship that failed with its “little sister”
One recent example of the strained relationship was Israel’s persistent refusal to allow the Jordanian helicopter intended to carry the new Arab League secretary-general, Nabil Fahmy, to a meeting with Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas at the Muqata presidential compound in Ramallah. The secretary-general returned to Cairo angry and humiliated.
King Abdullah is dealing with economic crises. He is gritting his teeth and waiting for the results of Israel’s election. If Netanyahu remains in office, the peace agreement will sink at least one more level, with no diplomats, no cooperation and no visits.
At the same time, profiles of Gadi Eisenkot, Naftali Bennett, Avigdor Lieberman, Yair Golan and Yoav Segalovich are already circulating in the kingdom. Mansour Abbas, meanwhile, is well known in Jordan. If there is a change of government in Israel, then, as they say, anything is possible.
In that case, a very senior figure close to King Abdullah told me, the round of consultation visits to the royal palace would begin again. If peace with Egypt is known as a cold peace, the relationship with Jordan can now be described as frozen.
Politically, however, it remains open to surprises, with American-Emirati mediation and after Israel’s election.
If you like, it is a kind of peace that is so close, yet still far away.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>hy6x31lozg</id> 
            <title>America is $40 trillion in debt — and that’s not even the problem</title> 
            <description>Opinion: Rising yields are making America’s vast debt increasingly expensive to service, but an AI-driven productivity boom could accelerate growth, boost tax revenue and ease the burden</description>
            <author>Daniel Leitner</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2021/11/02/SJcvw00A8K/SJcvw00A8K_0_166_3000_1689_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/hy6x31lozg</link>
            <pubDate>Wed, 02 Sep 2026 21:41:27 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>In recent weeks, investors have once again been confronted with a familiar pattern: yields on long-term U.S. government bonds are rising, while equity markets are becoming increasingly sensitive to every move in rates.
The conventional explanation is straightforward: when interest rates rise, discount rates rise with them, putting downward pressure on equity valuations. Mathematically, that is correct, but it tells only part of the story. The underlying relationship is simpler: money has a price, and when that price changes, the entire capital market has to adjust.
 
U.S. federal debt has recently surpassed the $40 trillion mark. It is a staggering figure, one that naturally generates headlines and raises concerns. But the absolute size of the debt is not necessarily what investors should fear most.
In fact, focusing solely on the headline number can be misleading. Not because the debt is not real, but because there is no plausible scenario in which the U.S. government would be required to repay $40 trillion all at once. Sovereign governments do not manage their debt the way a household pays down a mortgage. They continuously refinance it.
When a $1 billion U.S. Treasury bond matures, the Treasury typically issues new debt and uses the proceeds to repay the maturing obligation. The more important question, therefore, is not simply how much the U.S. owes, but how much it costs to service that debt.
Consider a simple example. Suppose $1 billion of debt carrying a 2% interest rate matures and is refinanced at 5%. The principal has not changed, but the annual interest expense rises from $20 million to $50 million. Now apply that dynamic across trillions of dollars of debt being refinanced year after year.
And refinancing is only part of the equation.
The U.S. is not merely rolling over existing debt; it is also issuing new debt to finance persistent fiscal deficits. In fiscal year 2025, the federal government collected approximately $5.2 trillion in revenue and spent roughly $7 trillion. The gap - close to $1.8 trillion - had to be financed through additional borrowing.
This brings us to the figure that matters most: interest payments as a share of government revenues.
Net interest payments by the U.S. government are already approaching $1 trillion a year. Against revenues of just over $5 trillion, nearly one dollar out of every five collected by the federal government is now being directed toward interest payments.
 
As long as the economy and government revenues grow at a pace that allows the debt burden to be serviced comfortably, even a very large debt load can remain sustainable. The problem begins when the cost of servicing that debt rises faster than government revenues.
At that point, an increasing share of government income is consumed by interest payments on past borrowing. The fiscal deficit widens, more debt must be issued to finance it, and the government becomes increasingly sensitive to the level of interest rates.
This is the cycle that is beginning to concern the bond market.
Still, it is important to keep these concerns in perspective.
The United States remains the world’s largest and most powerful economy. It is home to many of the world’s largest and most innovative companies and remains a global leader in technology, artificial intelligence, semiconductors and biotechnology. The U.S. dollar is the world’s primary reserve currency, while the Treasury market remains the deepest and most liquid government bond market in the world.
So the real issue is not whether the United States can meet its debt obligations. It is whether the cost of doing so will continue to rise - and what that higher cost will mean for the broader economy and financial markets.
As investors demand higher yields, the cost of financing the U.S. government rises - both on newly issued debt and on existing debt that needs to be refinanced. But the consequences extend far beyond the Treasury market. Corporate financing becomes more expensive, the relative attractiveness of different asset classes changes, discount rates rise, and equity valuations have to adjust to the new environment.
At the same time, not every rise in yields should necessarily be viewed as negative.
If yields rise because the economy is stronger, growth is accelerating and corporate earnings are expanding, equity markets can absorb higher interest rates. The concern becomes more significant when yields rise because of persistent inflation, widening fiscal deficits or a growing supply of government debt - without a corresponding improvement in economic growth.
 
And this is precisely where there is also reason for optimism.
The solution to America’s growing debt burden does not necessarily have to come solely from spending cuts or higher taxes. It can also come from the other side of the equation: stronger economic growth and higher productivity.
Hundreds of billions of dollars are currently being invested in semiconductors, data centers, software and artificial intelligence infrastructure. If these investments translate into genuine productivity gains - allowing workers to produce more, companies to generate greater output from the same resources, and the economy to grow faster - the impact could extend far beyond the profits of technology companies.
Higher productivity can lift GDP, wages and corporate profits. It can broaden the tax base and increase government revenues. And the United States has an extraordinary advantage in this respect: many of the companies leading the AI revolution are American, as is a significant share of the capital, research and innovation driving it.
There is an interesting irony here.
At the very moment markets are becoming increasingly concerned about the rising cost of U.S. debt, a technological revolution is taking place that could significantly increase the economy’s capacity to carry that debt.
The key question, therefore, is not whether the United States will one day repay $40 trillion.
The real question is what happens to the relationship between the cost of that debt and the economy’s ability to support it.
And if the AI revolution delivers the productivity leap many expect, the answer could ultimately prove considerably more optimistic than today’s bond-market fears suggest.
The above reflects the personal opinion of the author only, is provided for general informational purposes, and does not constitute investment advice, investment marketing or a recommendation to take any action with respect to securities or financial assets.
The writer is the CEO of Tamir Fishman Mutual Funds</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>r1659ogugg</id> 
            <title>Why closing one fashion site made so many Israelis angry? When did Shabbat become the enemy?</title> 
            <description>Opinion: Shabbat observance has become a culture-war battleground, from outrage over a fashion site closing for a day to kosher restaurants facing backlash and Tel Aviv residents fighting plans for a ritual bath. What happened to mutual respect?</description>
            <author>Shoshana Chen</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2025/04/07/rJ11nnZQbA1e/rJ11nnZQbA1e_0_0_2016_1344_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/r1659ogugg</link>
            <pubDate>Wed, 02 Sep 2026 19:56:37 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>Anyone in Israel who considers themselves a serious electronics enthusiast knows that a trip to New York is not complete without visiting B&amp;H. The 53-year-old Manhattan electronics giant is owned by members of the Satmar Hasidic community, many of whom also work there. It sells plenty of products Satmar Hasidim themselves would never use, including televisions and unrestricted smartphones.
And, heaven forbid, it closes on Shabbat. It also closes during the intermediate days of Sukkot and Passover, including its hugely popular website.
 
Even New York Mayor Zohran Mamdani has apparently resisted the temptation to attack it online. Had he done so, one suspects the backlash would have been enough to make anyone reconsider.
Yet here in our small country, the question of Shabbat has somehow become cause for uproar.
The relaunched Adika fashion website, built around clothing inspired by singer Odeya Azoulay, stopped sales last Shabbat at the singer’s request as she moves toward greater religious observance. And judging by the reaction, countless customers apparently spent the day staring helplessly into wardrobes devoid of clothes, with absolutely nothing to wear. Help!
The hysteria is spreading. Democracy is invoked as the supreme principle, and Shabbat is cast aside. But it is not only Shabbat. A restaurant owner who decides to make a struggling business kosher in hopes of attracting more customers, after years in which the industry has been battered by war, can now expect public condemnation. How dare they?
In my admittedly outdated understanding, someone who keeps kosher cannot eat in a non-kosher restaurant. I had not realized that the reverse had somehow become true as well.
 
In Tel Aviv, where I grew up, my family lived near the secular parents of a very prominent Israeli public figure who were themselves pioneers who came from observant homes. On Shabbat nights, they would sometimes send their young children to our house so they could experience a Shabbat meal. It mattered to them that the children knew where they came from. We all survived, with mutual respect.
In today’s Tel Aviv, some female residents are fighting the construction of a mikveh, a ritual bath that is an essential religious service for observant Jewish families, as though every woman entering one might emerge determined to drag secular girls into the water with her.
Have we lost our minds? 
Women throughout Jewish history risked their lives to immerse in freezing water. Jews accepted poverty rather than violate Shabbat. I do not doubt that similar stories can be found somewhere in the family histories of some of those now horrified that Adika dared shut its website for a day.
Perhaps they have missed something else as well. Shabbat, historically one of Judaism’s extraordinary gifts to the world, has become fashionable again. Look at the number of Israeli Facebook groups devoted to Shabbat observance that have grown since October 7. Look at returned hostages and their relatives who have begun keeping Shabbat.
 
About 1 million Israelis took part in events connected to the global Shabbat initiative last November, out of some 3 million participants across 150 countries. The project began modestly in South Africa and has since expanded dramatically.
Charlie Kirk, who was not Jewish, also praised the idea of Shabbat and practiced what he called a technological Sabbath: disconnecting from devices and reconnecting with family. In the final months before his murder, he even wrote a book praising the practice.
What would today’s culture warriors make of Israel’s national poet Haim Nahman Bialik, who wrote of going out to welcome Sabbath Queen? For some Israelis, it now seems that shopping and spending money specifically on Shabbat have somehow become symbols of democracy and Jewish identity, while the extraordinary institution of Shabbat itself is mocked and pushed aside.
Jewish tradition famously teaches that more than Israel kept Shabbat, Shabbat kept Israel. But apparently we no longer need keeping. We need croissants, coffee and fashion, preferably on Shabbat.
What comes next? A public reprimand for returned hostage Omer Shem Tov? A boycott of the moving book he published because he, who was secular before his captivity, said this week that he now puts on tefillin, keeps kosher and tries, yes, tries, to observe Shabbat?
How many of those mourning the newly relaunched Adika site’s Shabbat closure have ever experienced the beauty of Shabbat for themselves? Perhaps before denouncing it, they should try it at least once: the experience Jewish tradition calls Oneg, a delight. Without shopping.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>syf3ysbuzl</id> 
            <title>Xi in Cairo: How China’s yuan push could help Iran evade sanctions</title> 
            <description>Opinion: Xi Jinping’s Cairo visit highlights Beijing’s expansion of yuan settlement infrastructure along the Suez Canal, creating new sanctions-evasion risks for Iran and raising direct concerns for Israeli security</description>
            <author>Amine Ayoub</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/09/02/rJgLarHOfe/rJgLarHOfe_0_0_1672_941_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/syf3ysbuzl</link>
            <pubDate>Wed, 02 Sep 2026 10:21:59 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>When Chinese President Xi Jinping touches down in Cairo for his first state visit to Egypt in a decade, Washington cannot afford to view the summit as routine diplomatic theater.
Beyond public declarations celebrating seventy years of bilateral relations and Global South cooperation, Beijing is quietly advancing a strategic initiative to erode United States financial leverage across the Middle East.
 
At the center of this push is the deliberate expansion of Chinese-backed, non-dollar settlement infrastructure within Egypt. While promoted as standard commercial diversification, this non-SWIFT financial framework creates durable, opaque pathways that can be exploited to shield Iranian trade from American secondary sanctions, undermine Israeli national security and reward an Egyptian government that routinely prioritizes regime survival over its core strategic commitments to the West.
Beijing's economic engagement in North Africa focuses on building financial channels capable of operating independently of the United States dollar and Western banking oversight.
In June 2026, the People's Bank of China and the Central Bank of Egypt extended their bilateral currency swap agreement, expanding its total value from 18 billion to 30 billion yuan, equivalent to roughly 4.4 billion dollars.
This monetary expansion follows key structural agreements signed in July 2025, when Egyptian and Chinese central bank officials oversaw memoranda of understanding involving Suez Canal Bank, China-Africa TEDA Investment Company and CIPS Company Limited, the operator of China's Cross-Border Interbank Payment System.
Designed to promote yuan-denominated settlement within the China-Egypt Suez Economic and Trade Cooperation Zone, these mechanisms establish a parallel clearing architecture along the Suez Canal, embedding non-dollar financial tools into Egyptian banking.
While these non-dollar settlement networks are presented as tools for legitimate commercial trade, their technical structure creates systemic financial opacity.
By conducting cross-border clearing in local currencies and routing transactions through CIPS rather than SWIFT, these channels bypass the traditional correspondent banking networks monitored by Western regulators.
This architectural design inherently heightens the risk of sanctions evasion by creating non-transparent financial nodes that hostile actors can utilize.
Positioned at the juncture of African, Middle Eastern and European commerce, Egypt is becoming a high-risk transit hub where non-dollar liquidity can be leveraged to obfuscate illicit trade flows involving regional adversaries.
The reality of this vulnerability is not hypothetical; it is already documented in recent enforcement actions by United States authorities.
On August 28, 2026, the Financial Crimes Enforcement Network proposed a Section 311 special measure targeting the United Arab Emirates branches of Egypt's state-owned Banque Misr.
 
FinCEN identified 103 potential Iranian shadow-banking front companies that processed approximately 1.8 billion dollars through these branches between January 2024 and June 2026, including 520 million dollars over the most recent twelve-month period.
This documented flow of Iranian illicit funds through a premier Egyptian state financial institution illustrates how regional actors exploit banking vulnerabilities to maintain access to international commerce and dollar clearing through indirect channels.
It confirms that Egyptian financial architecture is actively being utilized as a conduit for shadow-banking operations that directly undermine American secondary sanctions enforcement.
Under President Abdel Fattah el-Sisi, Egypt continues to receive approximately 1.3 billion dollars annually in United States Foreign Military Financing.
Yet, facing severe fiscal stress and heavy external debt burdens, Cairo has consistently engaged in dual-track behavior to maintain regime liquidity.
This pattern of dual loyalty is particularly alarming given the ongoing crisis along the Red Sea and Suez corridor, where maritime security and Israeli defense face persistent threats.
For months, Iranian-backed Houthi insurgents in Yemen have launched drones and anti-ship ballistic missiles at commercial vessels, forcing major shipping lines to bypass the Bab el-Mandeb Strait and imposing an effective blockade on Israel's southern port of Eilat.
Throughout this maritime crisis, China's behavior has reflected pure realpolitik.
While Western and Israeli-linked merchant vessels remain under constant attack, Chinese-flagged and Chinese-owned ships have enjoyed a documented pattern of safer passage and individual clearances through Houthi-controlled waters.
Beijing has exploited this differential treatment to secure commercial advantages for its own state fleet while leaving international shipping exposed to hostile strikes along this vital global maritime transit choke point.
If allowed to consolidate, the expansion of non-dollar settlement mechanisms in Egypt will cause lasting damage to American power and regional stability.
An emerging framework that enables non-SWIFT, yuan-denominated clearing along the Suez Canal offers Tehran a critical structural buffer against Western economic pressure.
By creating insulated financial channels, this network heightens the risk that Iranian state entities can continue generating revenue to finance regional proxy forces, including Hamas, Hezbollah and the Houthis.
Furthermore, deeper Chinese financial and logistical entrenchment along the Suez Canal weakens Washington's capacity to enforce sanctions regimes, erodes Western influence over vital maritime choke points and directly compromises Israel's peripheral security environment.
The long-term convergence of Chinese capital, Egyptian cooperation and Iranian trade networks threatens to reshape regional Middle Eastern stability.
Washington must confront the reality that unconditional military assistance to Cairo has failed to secure strict alignment with Western national security priorities.
The United States response must be immediate, targeted and uncompromising.
First, Congress should freeze Egypt's Foreign Military Financing until Cairo subjects its banking sector to comprehensive independent audits and dismantles non-transparent, non-dollar clearing mechanisms that pose sanctions-evasion risks linked to Beijing and Tehran.
American military aid must be explicitly conditioned on absolute compliance with international financial sanctions and full operational transparency in Cairo's central banking operations.
American taxpayer dollars must not subsidize a foreign government that permits its financial sector to be used for illicit financial evasion schemes.
Second, the United States Treasury Department must aggressively deploy secondary sanctions against any Egyptian financial institution, state enterprise or government official found to be facilitating Iranian shadow-banking transactions or enabling illicit settlement schemes.
Cairo must be forced to make a definitive choice between maintaining access to the United States financial system and permitting non-transparent financial collaboration with foreign adversaries.
 
Access to Western financial markets and dollar clearing is a privilege reserved for responsible security partners, not an entitlement for regimes that play both sides.
By establishing strict enforcement penalties, Washington can effectively deter regional financial institutions from participating in shadow networks that undermine international sanctions and destabilize regional strategic stability.
Third, the United States must strengthen its core strategic commitment in the Middle East by deepening military, naval and intelligence integration with Israel.
Washington and Jerusalem should expand joint maritime interdiction operations in the Red Sea and conduct decisive kinetic strikes against Houthi launch infrastructure, weapons depots and Iranian supply vessels in the Bab el-Mandeb.
Freedom of navigation is a non-negotiable requirement for global trade and Western security. It cannot be surrendered to Iranian maritime terrorism or Chinese economic opportunism.
By pairing aggressive financial enforcement against Cairo with unyielding military power in the Red Sea, Washington can effectively reassert its strategic leadership.
Xi Jinping's state visit to Cairo marks a decisive moment for Western policy in the Middle East.
The battle for regional stability is being waged not only in maritime straits, but within central bank vaults, clearinghouses and trade zones along the Suez Canal.
The United States must act with hard power, strategic clarity and uncompromising economic coercion.
Failure to enforce accountability today will leave America weaker, Israel more exposed and an empowered autocratic axis better positioned along the world's most vital economic corridor.

Amine Ayoub, a fellow at the Middle East Forum, is a policy analyst and writer based in Morocco. Follow him on X: @amineayoubx</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>bytxlbsufg</id> 
            <title>This is the truth that Netanyahu is trying to forget</title> 
            <description>Opinion: The prime minister’s focus on whether he was awakened on October 7 obscures years of policy that strengthened Hamas, ignored repeated warnings and treated the group as deterred, helping create the conditions that preceded the massacre</description>
            <author>Avi Issacharoff</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/09/01/yk14886028/yk14886028_4_0_498_280_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/bytxlbsufg</link>
            <pubDate>Wed, 02 Sep 2026 05:26:39 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>On Saturday, Oct. 7, 2023, at 3:55 a.m., a representative of the Prime Minister’s Office received a phone call updating him on the unusual signs the security establishment had detected up to that point in the Gaza Strip, including the SIM cards. That representative decided not to wake his superior, who later that morning would wake the prime minister at 6:29 a.m. 
In other words, Netanyahu’s office knew about the developments but decided not to wake the prime minister. It is convenient for Netanyahu now to claim, “They didn’t wake me,” because indeed, they did not wake him. But contrary to the ugly insinuations by his wife, Sara, his office knew very well about the developments.
It is of course convenient for Netanyahu to focus the discussion on the night of October 7 and on the question of whether he was or was not awakened. He can claim, as he said in an interview on Channel 14, that “if they had woken me, everything would have looked different.” But not only would nothing have changed had they woken him, after they did wake him, Netanyahu did nothing that changed even slightly the catastrophe unfolding in the south or the major delay in the arrival of forces.
 
Netanyahu’s remarks focus on that night because he is trying forcefully to conceal everything that happened between Israel and Hamas beforehand, in the weeks, months and years that preceded it. 
Netanyahu is the father of the very conception that cultivated Hamas as the governing authority in Gaza, that saw it as deterred and that held that if we transferred money to it, that would keep it deterred. This is the conception that said again and again that Hamas was restrained and preferable to the Palestinian Authority.
And therefore, Netanyahu and his people were the ones who pushed with all their might to transfer cash in suitcases to Hamas, institutionalize direct and indirect communication with it, turn Qatar into a kind of landlord in Gaza and, even when they knew that Qatari money was going directly to the military wing, preferred to continue funneling $360 million a year into its coffers, an enormous sum in Gaza terms. Netanyahu employed three advisers who were paid by the main sponsor of Hamas and the Muslim Brotherhood, Qatar, and even after he learned about it he continued to employ at least one of them.
The brazenness of Netanyahu and his wife knows no bounds. This is the man who refused time and again Shin Bet demands to assassinate Sinwar and strike senior figures in the organization. Even on Oct. 1, 2023, during a Cabinet discussion, Ronen Bar told those present that “Sinwar feels strong and needs to be confronted” and that an operational plan should be prepared to eliminate senior figures. On August 21 as well, Ronen Bar, the same man Netanyahu’s admirers so love to hate, recommended to the prime minister that Sinwar be targeted and warned that Israeli deterrence in the Strip was eroding.
 
Ronen Bar’s predecessors, Nadav Argaman and Yoram Cohen, also recommended a “decapitation operation,” but Netanyahu refused, delayed, evaded and settled for decisions devoid of substance or meaning.
Netanyahu, he and no one else, instructed the military and the Shin Bet that the main directive regarding Gaza for the 2023 High Holiday period was quiet. There were indeed logical reasons for that, including prioritizing other arenas, but the truth about October 7 is difficult and terrible for Netanyahu. He is the father of the conception that led to the massacre, and he is the one who wanted Hamas in power in Gaza rather than another Palestinian alternative.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>sy00hgueogl</id> 
            <title>Ada Yonath gave Israel more than a Nobel Prize: she taught a generation to dream</title> 
            <description>Opinion: The Nobel laureate who decoded the ribosome became an unlikely cultural icon, bringing science into classrooms and showing young Israelis, especially girls, what curiosity and persistence could achieve</description>
            <author>Shai Friedman</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/08/31/SkimomQOfl/SkimomQOfl_752_246_1882_1059_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/sy00hgueogl</link>
            <pubDate>Tue, 01 Sep 2026 16:30:11 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>When Prof. Ada Yonath won the Nobel Prize, I was in third grade. Perhaps I saw a news report about it at the time. I no longer remember. What I certainly did not understand was the scale of the achievement.
I did not know what it meant to decipher the structure of the ribosome. I did not even know what a ribosome was.
 
And yet something about Yonath lodged itself in my consciousness, and probably in that of an entire generation.
By the time I reached middle school, she had already become a figure in her own right, a symbol of intelligence. “How should I know, am I Ada Yonath?” people would sometimes say, as her name became a kind of Israeli shorthand for genius, much like Einstein.
In high school biology, we learned about the structure of the ribosome and about Yonath’s work. A year after I graduated, my school named its laboratory after her.
In that sense, Yonath occupied a particularly unusual place in Israeli science. Alongside her extraordinary scientific achievements, and without seeming to seek it, she became a popular icon.
Not an icon in the cheapened sense of the word. Quite the opposite.
She was the kind of figure who made science accessible to young people, and especially to young women. Her discovery was fundamental to understanding how cells work, yet at the same time brilliantly complex. She became someone students encountered early in their first attempts to understand the living world.
Yonath understood the value of that role.
She used the influence she had gained to promote science in Israel whenever she could, while never abandoning her own research at the Weizmann Institute of Science and continuing to run her laboratory long after the conventional retirement age.
But she hardly needed to lecture about the importance of women entering science, or about the need to challenge the boundaries of human knowledge.
She demonstrated both simply by being herself, through the sharpness of her thinking, her persistence and her unmistakable warmth.
Having grown up with that public image of Yonath, I was surprised when I interviewed her for the first time to discover how modest and meticulous she was.
Even after countless interviews, she was careful not to comment on anything that strayed even slightly beyond her expertise or beyond what she knew with certainty.
At the same time, she was curious. She asked questions about what it was like for young people to study science in high school and university. And above all, despite being a senior professor and Nobel laureate, she remained strikingly human.
If decoding the structure of the ribosome was Yonath’s contribution to humanity, then her contribution to Israeli society was no less profound: she gave people permission to dream.
It hardly needs explaining why Yonath embodied a certain version of the Zionist dream. From a childhood of limited means in Jerusalem to the Nobel ceremony in Stockholm, her life demonstrated it step by step.
Looking back, however, what strikes me most is how unusual it was for someone from the distant world of academic science to enter the consciousness of children and teenagers so completely.
Her scientific willingness to take risks and pursue research despite criticism became something broader: an invitation to dare.
But it was not merely an invitation. Yonath was proof that daring could work, and a reminder of what Israeli society might aspire to be.
On another occasion, I asked her what advice she would give someone choosing a field of study. She agreed to offer only one piece of advice.
It may capture Yonath, and what she leaves behind for future generations in Israel, better than anything else:
“Follow your curiosity.”</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    

        <item>
            <id>b1ymysqugx</id> 
            <title>Segalovitz’s Ra’am move tests a new model for Jewish-Arab politics</title> 
            <description>Opinion: The former police deputy commissioner’s alliance with Mansour Abbas could broaden Ra’am’s appeal, challenge post-Oct. 7 distrust and offer a rare model of political partnership without erasing ideological differences</description>
            <author>Dr. Michael Milshtein</author>
            <image>https://ynet-pic1.yit.co.il/picserver6/crop_images/2026/08/31/rygrNxSQ00Ml/rygrNxSQ00Ml_0_18_1280_721_0_small.jpg</image>
            <link>https://www.ynetnews.com/opinions-analysis/article/b1ymysqugx</link>
            <pubDate>Tue, 01 Sep 2026 04:37:32 +03:00</pubDate>
            <full-text>Yoav Segalovitz’s move to join Ra’am marks a dramatic precedent in Israeli politics. There have been, and still are, political alliances between Arabs and Jews, but these have generally taken the form of parties built around a shared ideology — particularly the communist movement that served as the political “womb” from which Hadash emerged — or symbolic representation of Arabs in Zionist parties and Jews in anti-Zionist Arab parties such as Balad, usually in low-ranking positions with little chance of winning a Knesset seat.
Segalovitz’s case is fundamentally different. He is an avowed Zionist with an extensive security and law enforcement background — credentials that have traditionally been viewed with reservations in Arab society — who is being placed in a realistic, potentially winning position on the slate of a party closely affiliated with the Islamic Movement.
 
Bringing Segalovitz into Ra’am, the United Arab List, represents another step in party leader Mansour Abbas’ effort to break longstanding political conventions. Most notably, Abbas led Ra’am into a governing coalition and has stressed the need to recognize that Israel is a Jewish state, in contrast with the Joint List’s demand that it become a “state of all its citizens.”
This is another stage in the political “experiment” Abbas has been leading — one that has produced successes but also severe setbacks, foremost among them the collapse of the governing coalition in which Ra’am participated.
Abbas’ bold approach enjoys broad support within Ra’am. At the party’s general conference last week, delegates unanimously authorized him to place candidates in high positions on its electoral slate, with everyone understanding that Segalovitz was the candidate in question.
Ra’am sees the move as an important step in its effort to broaden and diversify its base of support, opening the party to all sectors of Arab society, including Christians and Druze, while advancing a partnership with Jewish Israelis — all without sacrificing its original character.
Meanwhile, Segalovitz’s inclusion is likely to provide ammunition to Abbas’ critics within Arab society, who accuse him of becoming increasingly “Zionist.” Recently, some have escalated their rhetoric further, openly accusing him of “betrayal.”
Segalovitz’s move is no less audacious than Abbas’. His agreement with Ra’am stipulates that he is not a member of the party and is not bound by its constitution, and that he will have freedom to vote according to his own views on issues involving national security and religion and state.
But at a time when Ra’am faces an intense campaign of delegitimization — particularly over the possibility that a future government could rely on its votes to form a coalition — such a move will inevitably draw fierce criticism.
That argument is being made by all the parties in the current governing coalition, but also by many leaders of the anti-Netanyahu bloc who themselves served alongside Abbas in the coalition that governed until the end of 2022.
The fact that Segalovitz is a retired police deputy commissioner who recorded significant achievements as deputy public security minister in the previous government, particularly in efforts to combat crime and violence in Arab communities — work that earned him considerable goodwill there — will not shield him from harsh criticism from Jewish Israelis.
Meanwhile, he is likely to encounter suspicion from parts of the Arab public at a time of profound alienation from the state.
Despite fierce attacks on Abbas alleging that he “represents the Muslim Brotherhood” and is advancing “malicious schemes through deception,” many Jewish Israelis were impressed by his political courage before the Hamas-led Oct. 7, 2023, attack and continue to be impressed today, finding his approach sincere.
In the last election, Abbas attracted several thousand Jewish votes. Ra’am now harbors cautious hopes that adding Segalovitz will strengthen the party’s legitimacy among Jewish voters and perhaps even deliver an electoral boost beyond the four to five Knesset seats it is projected to win in most polls. Such support would probably come from voters who might otherwise have backed the Democrats or the Joint List.
On the eve of a fateful election, as Israeli political discourse is increasingly characterized by systematically branding political opponents as “enemies” and is saturated with hostility, division and sweeping boycotts, Segalovitz’s inclusion on the Ra’am slate is a breath of fresh air — and perhaps even a modest source of hope.
It is a display of leadership that could challenge the dominance of suspicion and hatred that has taken root since Oct. 7. It offers the possibility of a partnership that does not require either side to surrender its identity or demand that the other change. Instead, it emphasizes common ground and presents a clear-eyed model of tolerant coexistence.
Dr. Michael Milshtein is a senior researcher at the Moshe Dayan Center for Middle Eastern and African Studies at Tel Aviv University.</full-text>
            <genre>message</genre>
        </item>
    
        </channel>
        </rss>
    