Why Israel Struck in Syria

This weekend’s Israeli strike on Syrian targets is being given lots of attention by Western media and other analysts. As was the case with the January election, the tendency is to make assumptions and use Western prisms to explain Israeli behavior and from there assume many things about possible American behavior. This is normal to some extent, and the lack of complete information and Israel’s (relative) silence on the matter do make it necessary to guess. But a better sense of the history and decision-making processes behind Israel’s actions would lead to a more accurate explanation of the strikes.

First and foremost, the Israeli strikes on Syria are about preventing Hezbollah from obtaining “game-changing” weapons. In the most recent attack, this meant stopping Fateh-110 surface-to-surface missiles sent by Iran. Israel’s ability to maintain a decisive qualitative edge in military technology, resources, and ability to control the timing of any fight over its enemies is its own red line. If the Syrian civil war endangers this ability, then Israel will become “involved,” but it will remain a limited and specific involvement.

To the extent that there are always messages inherent in the foreign and security policies of states, yes, this was a message to Iran that Israel takes its red lines seriously and will act to reinforce them. But Israel has a long standing security posture that is very aggressive, relies on prevention and carrying the fight to others’ territory, and requires limited actions and reprisals designed to avoid escalation (though that certainly has happened at times). The strikes on Syria are only part of this historical pattern.

That pattern was seriously debated among Israel leaders at the beginning of the state. David Ben-Gurion, the towering figure of early Israeli politics (though he was physically short in stature) represented the more militarist position, arguing that military attacks on enemy targets were simply important tools of statecraft and even necessary. Moshe Sharett, the professorial-looking counterpart to Ben-Gurion, argued for a policy of moderation, contending that even limited strikes would lead to escalation and condemn Israel to years of fighting and undermine prospects for peace.

Ben-Gurion did not just defeat Sharett in that debate, but he succeeded in inserting his preference for limited attacks and counter-attacks into Israel’s security doctrine. The aim, he argued, was to degrade the enemies’ ability to attack Israel and let them know Israel would act to defend itself. It was also, in the form of larger assaults (1956, 1967), about getting the jump on its enemies before they would be able to harm Israel. With a small territory and population, Jerusalem’s believed that Israel simply could not withstand an invasion or an extended war.

In the first years of Israel’s existence, this military doctrine was represented by limited on-the-ground incursions into neighboring states. Ariel Sharon’s Unit 101 was created in 1953 for this very purpose, to strike swiftly at military targets and then slip back into Israel. Unit 101’s horrific attack on the Palestinian village of Qibya, in the Jordanian-controlled West Bank, in which many civilians were killed, let to its disbandment and incorporation into other special forces units. (This is also demonstrates some of the problems with even limited military actions.) Later, air strikes supplemented this strategy.

The growing threat of non-conventional weapons and the advances on weapons technology, particularly missiles and air defenses, has prompted Israel to modify this security posture to include a variety of other tactics, including a more active presence in other countries and hitting supply and transit routes and targets. But these, too, are mostly updated version of older policies.

Even more necessary is to avoid the temptation to use the Israeli strikes as the basis for arguing for American military intervention in Syria, whether by imposing a no-fly zone, ground troops to secure Syria’s chemical weapons, or some other action. This was especially the buzz on Twitter Saturday night when word of the attack came out.

But Israel’s abilities, goals, and responsibilities are very different from America’s. Israel has the ability to conduct limited and concise attacks on specific targets, and to engage in a brief war; but it doesn’t have the capability—and it’s doubtful it has the popular or political will anymore—to sustain a drawn-out presence in a neighboring country. Its goal is to prevent weapons and technology from reaching its primary enemy in this specific arena, namely, Hezbollah (the Syrian military is no match for Israel). It doesn’t see itself as responsible for everything else, including interfering in the succession process being played out so violently, protecting civilians from the horrific atrocities being committed against them, and influencing the outcome of the civil war and, from there, the region. All this is reserved for later consideration or others to deal with. Jerusalem defines its responsibilities, rather, as its immediate security needs and the near-term future effects of its actions.

Washington’s abilities are much greater, its goals are much broader, and its responsibilities are much bigger. Comparing Israel to the US under these conditions isn’t helpful for understanding America’s actions thus far or its capabilities for doing more. Adam Elkus tweeted a series of important ways that Washington can learn from the Israeli experience, but it’s about thinking in specifics, rather than too-general policy ideas.

Any analysis, then, that assumes Israel was acting to send a message to Iran, or that the strikes demonstrated the foolishness of the American position on imposing a no fly zone or other form of military engagement are flawed because they ignore the bases for Israeli policy.

The Anti-Chemical Weapons Norm Is Not in Danger

The cruel violence of the Syrian regime should not have surprised anyone, nor should the fact that it continued to engage in it without concern for the ambiguous threats issues by the US and others. Regimes like Bashar al-Asad’s have nothing to gain and everything to lose by compromising and giving up some of their power.

Now that the regime may have used chemical weapons against the opposition, some analysts and advocates are calling it a “game changer,” arguing that American credibility is on the line, requiring the United States to intervene. And if it doesn’t intervene after the small-scale use of chemical weapons in Syria, Jonathan Tobin asks, how can we trust Washington’s promises to prevent Iran from acquiring a nuclear weapon?

Others have rightly pointed out the absurdity of calling for intervention now, after the regime has tortured and killed tens of thousands of Syrians with conventional weapons and methods. To this, Max Fisher responds that more is at stake now—namely, the norm against the use of chemical weapons in the international system.

But if we are going to think about what constitutes a “red line” that might trigger a more direct military intervention in Syria, I’m not sure that strengthening the anti-chemical weapons norm is a good enough reason: because the norm against the use of chemical weapons is not endangered of being undermined by what happens in Syria.

Since World War Two very few states have used chemical weapons. The US used them in Vietnam. Evidence suggests Egypt used some in the 1960s during its involvement in the Yemeni civil war, while Libya used some in a 1987 conflict with Chad. Iraq used it against the Iranians during the Iran-Iraq War, and also against the Kurds in 1988. Beyond this, there is little evidence that many states have considered using them in many circumstances.

The reason is because the norm against the use of chemical weapons is very strong. The Chemical Weapons Convention, with 188 member-states, is the most formal representation of this. But consider, too, what a norm is. It is a “standard of appropriate behavior for actors with a given identity,” which incorporates a logic of appropriateness—a sense that specific behaviors are required as some sort of baseline for states to participate in international political life. The overwhelming majority of states want to be recognized as “good citizens” of the world.

Customary practice, the norm of sovereignty, and the laws of war have all entrenched the use of violence under particular circumstances. In the case of conflict, good citizenship requires controlling levels of violence, and that means that violence must based primarily on the use of conventional weapons. Indeed, the evidence suggests states are increasingly moving to control “excess” violence toward this end.

When it comes to chemical weapons—or nuclear or biological weapons—the exceptions to the norm proves the rule. Even a cursory glance at those states that have used them indicates that their interest in violating the norm is specific to their conditions, leaders, and motivations. If the US doesn’t intervene immediately in Syria because of the use of chemical weapons, no state that wouldn’t already be thinking of it will look at Syria and believe that Washington doesn’t care about chemical weapons, and therefore decide to use them. What matters are the particular regime dynamics at play in a given place and time.

This isn’t an argument against intervention or against considering the need to maintain the norm as a reason for intervention. It’s to say that intervention is a big deal, and we need to be careful about why we might go in. And if we’re thinking about implications and comparisons, instead of focusing on the use of chemical weapons at this point in time, I think the lesson is rather very strongly about the need to deter mass killing near the beginning, before regimes come to believe they either have impunity to attack their own citizens or feel cornered enough to try anything.

One Sunni Imagination: The US-Shia Alliance

On a long drive in Jordan, a Jordanian of Palestinian descent – let’s call him Amr – shared his grand theory of Middle East politics. His perspective would make Vali Nasr proud because for Amr, the basic divide in the Middle East is the Sunni-Shia divide (though with an American-Zionist twist).

On a personal level, Amr, a pious Sunni, expressed only disgust for Shiites, deriding them as false Muslims. Yet Christians and Jews were okay.

In the region, he lamented the rise of Shiism and, in particular, the rise of Iran, the heart of the Shiite world. Iran, already in control of Iraq, is seeking control of other Arab states as well, such as Bahrain and Yemen.

The pivotal Sunni-Shia moment was the hanging of Saddam Hussein on December 30, 2006. Saddam was not hanged on just any day but rather at the start of Iraqi Sunnis celebrating Eid al-Adha (the Feast of the Sacrifice), a major Islamic holiday. In Amr’s eyes, this was done as an intentional slight to Sunnis and to demonstrate a marked shift of power in Iraq, from Saddam’s (Sunni) rule to the post-2003 (Shia) regime.

Saddam’s last words were especially important: “Down with the traitors, the Americans, the spies and the Persians.” Not only were his executioners merely agents of neighboring Shia Iran, but by pairing “Americans” and “Persians” he also asserted that Iran was acting in concert with the United States.

Yes, while it might sound odd to American ears, Amr argued in the course of the discussion that Iran was working with the United States. After all, the 2003 US invasion of Iraq handed the country to Iran.

An Iran-US-Hezbollah-Israel alliance against the Sunni world.

When Sunni Iraq had a nuclear program, Israel bombed it in 1981. The United States invaded in 2003 to end Iraq’s alleged nuclear pursuits. Yet with Shia Iran, Israel and the United States have taken no military action despite years of complaining about Iranian nuclear research.

The United States was perfectly willing to intervene militarily in Libya against Muammar Qaddafi, a Sunni. But despite intense pressure, Washington has held back on the question of intervening in Syria where the regime is dominated by Alawites, a Shia offshoot. Israel, too, seems to favor the maintenance of the Asad regime.

In Egypt, the United States abandoned a Sunni, President Hosni Mubarak, and has accepted the rule of Egypt’s Muslim Brotherhood. While one might think the Muslim Brotherhood is a Sunni organization, Amr sees it as under the control of Iran. That explains Iranian President Ahmadinejad’s visit to Egypt and the general warming of ties between Egypt and Iran after decades of tension. When Morsi and Shafiq were in the presidential run-off (2012), Washington and especially then US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, made sure that Shafiq lost.

In Lebanon, why has Israel not killed Hassan Nasrallah, Hezbollah’s leader? The Israeli Mossad can hit leaders all over the world but cannot find a leader right next door? The answer must be that Israel and Hezbollah are cooperating.

Amr’s story, interesting in its own right, reminds us that political theories need not be un-done by inconvenient facts. Perhaps because of our human tendency to fit information to our pre-existing worldview, contrary information gets ignored, manipulated, re-defined in a way that does not challenge our core approach. So the fact that Israel and Hezbollah fought a war in 2006; that Israel attacked a Syrian nuclear site in 2007; or that the vitriol between Iran and Israel/US is regular and heated matters little for Amr’s grand theory.

Somehow I think that even if Israel or the United States bombed Iranian nuclear facilities tomorrow, Amr would find a way of accounting for that seeming anomaly without altering his basic theory.

The story also helps make clear the difficulty for the United States in the region. In general today, the United States is excoriated both for what is seen as too much involvement (e.g. Iraq 2003+) or too little (e.g. Syria today). Washington has been so involved for so long that any action or non-action is interpreted in a nefarious manner. With stories like this one, I don’t imagine the challenge of U.S. foreign policy will change anytime soon.

The Resurgence of American Diplomacy in the Middle East

When President Barack Obama announced his trip to Israel, there was widespread speculation for the motivations. I thought it was a grab-bag of reasons, including for domestic political purposes, to connect (finally) with the Jewish-Israeli public, to improve personal relations with Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, and to talk about Iran and Syria.

On these grounds the visit has already been a success. But it seems the trip was about American regional diplomacy at least as much as it was about the American-Israeli relationship. This makes sense: In his second term Obama is looking to shape his legacy, and can now be more proactive—as opposed to reactive, as he was at the onset of the Arab Awakening—in foreign affairs without having to worry about re-election. It’s clear now that the point of the visit was to set the conditions for an improvement in the U.S. position in the region.

For some time analysts have been convinced that the U.S. is on its way out of the Middle East, retreating or simply impotent in the wake of the Arab Awakening. But this argument rests on a consideration of American hard power only, reads Obama’s hesitation in his first term into his second, and ignores Obama’s own modus operandi.

To understand Obama’s foreign policy we need to look at the preference he’s had for engaging with Republicans on domestic policy. Here he’s adopted a patient, low-key role. His habit has been to let other prominent individuals or groups engage in public battles over a given issue, and at some moment near the end move quietly in to offer suggestions—not orders or demands—to both sides of a dispute. In this way, he persuades them that butting heads has not worked, but that compromise will.

Obama’s trip to Israel was an exercise in in this type of American soft power. First, during his time in Israel, he charmed Netanyahu, a man with whom he previously had very tense personal relations. Having created space with its leaders, Obama then gave a stirring speech to Israeli students at the Jerusalem Convention Center. He highlighted the Jewish connection to the area, bore witness to the Jewish/Zionist struggles over time (including their contemporary security concerns), and called on them to act now in the name of Israeli Jewishness and democracy, and justice for Palestinians. These themes were echoed in a shorter speech at Yad Vashem. His visit to sites of memory and identity in Israel also validated Jewish-Israelis’ Zionism.

While critics argue that this is pandering or represent the usual ignoring of Palestinians, connecting with Israeli public opinion is important. No final agreement will be ratified in Israel unless politicians know enough Israelis (particularly Jewish Israelis) are on board with it. Given the skepticism of the Palestinians and the peace process more generally among that cohort, laying the groundwork isn’t just good politics, it’s essential.

Second, at the very end of his trip, Obama brought together Netanyahu and Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdoğan through a phone call that, for all intents and purposes, settled the most outstanding of their immediate disagreements (an Israeli apology for and compensation over the deaths of Turkish citizens killed during the attack on the Mavi Marmara in 2010).

It’s not clear that Obama promised either of the two anything specific, but what he did do was remind Netanyahu and Erdoğan that the region is at a critical moment, and that the two countries have common interests that trump these kinds of disputes. Like a mediator, he made sure that they knew all of their interests—including that of the United States—required coordination, even if it didn’t include full agreement on all issues.

Third, Obama appears to have convinced the Israelis that the Fatah-controlled Palestinian Authority in the West Bank really is their only partner for peace, particularly as Hamas’s regional stature continues to rise. To this end, the Administration has managed to unblock $500 million in aid to the PA, which Congress had previously frozen, at the same time that Jerusalem has decided to resume transfer of tax revenues to the PA, also frozen after Mahmoud Abbas asked the United Nations General Assembly to grant the Palestinians non-observer member state status.

Finally, Obama has publicly discussed bringing the Arab states more directly into the peace process. This will provide political cover for the PA to make unpopular decisions about concessions during talks. But tying the Arab states to the negotiations further isolates Iran, and also gives them a stake in the outcome.

The conventional wisdom is that the Israelis and Palestinians aren’t interested at this point in resolving their conflict, and that the Arab Awakening, Syria, and Iran are forcing the White House to wait on events more than seek to manage them. But Obama’s trip to the region has demonstrated that this isn’t true.

Certainly there is a long way to go before Israelis and Palestinians make peace, before Saudis and Israelis overcome decades of hostility, or even before Israelis and Turks return to full normalized relations. But even still, it’s clear that Obama is preparing a network to support Washington’s leadership vis-à-vis Iran and Syria, and to better respond to the Arab Awakening.

He’s done all this quietly, by lowering expectations beforehand, and by convincing Israelis, Palestinians, Turks, and Arabs that they share common goals. This is the essence of persuasion. Obama’s ability to project American hard power in the region might be fading, but that’s not the case with American soft power.

Defining the Arab State

Issandr el-Amrani has a very angry response to Aaron David Miller’s piece on the post-Arab Spring decline of the Arab state. Though el-Amrani raises a couple of important points, the piece seems as full of misperceptions that he accuses Miller of.

El-Amrani’s underlying point—that the Arab states are not simply “tribes with flags”—is a strong one, and I think Miller undermines his own argument by falling back on that assertion. But contrary to what el-Amrani seems to indicate, Miller wasn’t arguing that the state has collapsed everywhere in the Arab world, much less so in the Middle East (where he notes Israel, Turkey, and Iran have remained coherent and strong). El-Amrani uses the examples of the UAE, Libya, Saudi Arabia, and Egypt to prove his point. But apart from the fact that Miller explicitly put Saudi Arabia in the category of states “holding their own,” these examples underline Miller’s point that it’s about “basic coherence and governance.”

It’s not about feeling good about the Arab Spring, as el-Amrani dismisses Miller’s piece, but about questions of legitimacy and governance. That’s a legitimate concern to note, as different groups compete with each other, either violently or non-violently, to define the state and its basis for legitimacy, laws, and norms.

Indeed, Karl reMarks notes this in his own response to Miller, and which el-Amrani cites approvingly. He acknowledges that “the collapse of the state, in varying degrees in each of the three states [Egypt, Iraq, Syria], is an undisputable phenomenon.” reMarks’ critique is centered on the reasons for the failing nature of these states, and that’s certainly something to engage and debate.

Also contrary to what el-Amrani seems to assume, Miller wasn’t providing a normative take on the aftermath of the Arab Spring, but more like a logistical take. Will these Arab states remain functioning as central authorities, with institutions capable of asserting that authority across all of society?

I share el-Amrani’s yawn with the language Miller uses in his piece, which is—as with his other ones—filled with clichés. I suspect this is because Miller simply writes too much, and for a non-specialist audience. It seems the easiest thing to do. But that’s a different motivation than the implicit orientalism that el-Amrani hints at.

Finally, el-Amrani inserts his own cliché as much as he criticizes Miller for doing so. Referencing Miller’s take on the Hamas-Fatah split and the sectarian divisions in Iraq, el-Amrani faults Miller for ignoring the Israeli occupation and the American invasion. Obviously both are relevant, and I seriously doubt Miller isn’t aware of these as constraining factors. (In fact, he references colonial interference as a contributing factor.) But neither was relevant to his particular point, which is that Palestine and Iraq are simply unable to get their internal houses in order so as to provide good governance to their people. Explaining why certainly requires an account of the Israeli and American presence, but that wasn’t the point of Miller’s piece.  Moreover, Miller puts Palestine and Iraq in the category of “pre-Arab Spring” countries with governance problems.

The underlying problem seems to be that Miller and el-Amrani are approaching the issue from two different angles. Miller doesn’t claim that states don’t exist in the Arab world, or even that they will collapse entirely tomorrow. He admits that borders are well entrenched, and that efforts to redraw them have been few in number, and failed completely. Rather, Miller defines the state as “effective” and “possessing the capacity to protect the wellbeing of all of its citizens.” Surely, with the violence being visited upon the citizens by the governments and other citizens, this is an obvious and legitimate argument to make.

El-Amrani seems to assume that Miller is making the opposite argument. He contends that Miller confuses “the dysfunctions of Arab states with the absence of a state.” But that line of thinking doesn’t appear in Miller’s argument. Nowhere does he say there is the absence of a state; at best, only Lebanon is listed as a “non-state,” but Miller doesn’t connect this to the Arab Spring but its own long-standing internal divisions and problems.

Perhaps El-Amrani disagrees with Miller’s proposals for stabilizing the Arab states, which include strengthening national institutions and broadening their legitimacy. After all, if the Arab state is already doing fine, then it requires something else to fix the problems currently roiling them.

Miller’s assumptions of the weak foundation of the Arab states—something that’s been a perennial concern throughout the literature on the Arab state—should be engaged on their merits. Otherwise, serious policy solutions can’t be debated.

More Flawed than Normal?

The Israeli electoral and party systems have long been broken. Political parties were always breaking apart and merging—indeed, both Labor and Likud are themselves amalgamations of several factions, some of which have over time left the party and then returned to it. Up until the late 1990s it still functioned relatively well.

But this year’s election process seems more flawed than usual. Or maybe it’s because the process is more exposed than usual. Tzipi Livni, for instance, has been making political announcements on her Facebook page since she left Kadima. And there are a number of really good Israeli journalists tweeting from virtually every public meeting the parties have been holding.

First, the center/center-left is far more fragmented than ever before. It makes no electoral sense for there to be a Labor, a Tzipi Livni Party, a Yesh Atid, and a Kadima. It’s true that in the past there have been several parties clumped on a particular spot on the political spectrum. What’s different this time is that none of these parties show any sign of willingness to work closely with each other. Worse, they’ve all given indications that they’ll jump into a government with Bibi and Likud at the first opportunity.

Second, the sheer ego that’s been driving the electoral process is more staggering than normal. Individuals have been forming and leaving parties seemingly on a whim. Tzipi Livni didn’t want to play second fiddle to anybody else, so she formed a brand new party named after her. Yair Lapid didn’t want to be in second place either, so he, too, formed his own party.

Ehud Barak abandoned the party he specifically formed to enter government because he couldn’t handle the embarrassment of staying with it to the bitter end. Amir Peretz sulked because he was at number three in Labor and couldn’t get Shelly Yachimovich to give in to his demands, so he left the party he had once led and went to Livni.

Haim Amsalem was kicked out of Shas for dissenting from the party’s rabbinical line, and formed Am Shalem. Michael Ben Ari and Aryeh Eldad didn’t like the new leadership in National Union, so they left to form Strong Israel.

If the stakes for Israelis and Palestinians weren’t so high, this would make for a good drama—or comedy. (Michael Koplow appropriately compared Israeli politics to an HBO series.)

But weighty issues remain to be adequately dealt with. Hamas and Hezbollah are clearly much stronger than ever before; relations with Turkey and Egypt are persistently stagnant, with no sign of potential improvement any time soon; the Iranian nuclear question is coming to a head within the next six to 12 months; the Syrian endgame looks to be here; and the recognition of Palestine as a non-member state at the UN is raising new questions about political and legal maneuvers and putting renewed emphasis on Israeli policies toward the West Bank.

Israel is distracted from dealing with these issues because parties and politicians are busy fighting for what they see as their rightful share of the political pie. The saddest part of it all is that the outcome of the elections is unlikely to change things all that much. The right is likely to still get between 65 and 68 seats, or more (the most recent poll gives it 73 Knesset seats—though I should repeat that I’m not convinced “left” and “right” are necessarily helpful categories). Bibi will probably still be prime minister. And, as I said, most parties would join Bibi’s coalition if they could—except the Arab parties (which won’t be asked) and Meretz (which seems most likely to stand more on principle than any other party).

The silver lining is that the electoral lists are now set, by law. We’ll see less overt and public plotting and scheming…at least until January 23.

Yair Lapid Walks the Foreign Policy Tightrope

Yair Lapid, leader of the newly formed Yesh Atid, continues to stump for votes, but he’s lost control over where and how he does so. At first hailed as a centrist who would shift the discourse away from the conflict with the Palestinians and Iran and toward domestic issues, he’s been forced instead to the international arena, where he’s less likely to win.

Lapid has tried to narrow down his focus to issues related to inequality in Israeli society, particularly between an oligarchic class and others, and between the haredim and the rest. But as Dahlia Scheindlin put it, “It’s been hard to discern just what Lapid really stands for, other than his declaration that he represents a middle class.”

Indeed, his focus on that catch-all group, with only vague Romney-like proclamations about the need to improve conditions, means he’s essentially left most of the field of social-economic issues to Shelly Yachimovich and Labor, who have worked quickly to seize and control that ground.

This means Lapid cannot hold the left on these issues, which Israelis have been saying are very important to them. He will certainly get some votes from that quarter—he is a well-known figure who’s mostly said things that resonate with traditional leftwing voters. But he’s sharing that end of the spectrum with Labor and Meretz, both of whom are expected to win more seats than they currently have.

To garner more support, then, he’s moved to foreign policy. But he can’t be more hawkish than Likud and the other rightwing parties, though to make sure rightist voters don’t misunderstand him he’s snorted that he’s no “lefty.” Nor can he be as publicly dovish as Labor and Meretz have traditionally been: because Yachimovich has hardly mentioned the settlements or the Palestinians, he’d be focusing everyone’s attention on his own dovishness and then lose those centrists leaning right.

That means he needs to work the foreign policy center, and here he’s been doing an admirable job of balancing the nationalist vote and the dovish vote. His speech yesterday in the settlement of Ariel nicely captures his effort. (Aluf Benn goes further, writing that Lapid displayed “political courage” in his speech.)

He proclaimed the importance of and his intention to hold on to the main settlement blocs—that he gave his speech at Ariel University Center was a brilliant physical demonstration of this—and that Jerusalem wouldn’t be divided. He insisted there will be no Palestinian right of return, but that there is a partner for peace among the Palestinians. He was clear that there must be two states, and that he won’t sit in a government that won’t negotiate.

In the ultimate balancing act, he asserted that “The far left and the far right are advancing unchecked…the dangerous and distorted idea of a binational state,” arguing that only a genuine peace agreement would keep Israel Jewish.

On Iran, he said that Netanyahu “took a wrong turn” in the debate over the Iranian nuclear program. This implies criticism of Bibi’s belligerent and aggressive insistence on the issue, but Lapid was also clear that the military option couldn’t be taken off the table as a “last resort.”

It remains to be seen if Lapid can hold to the balancing act he’s developed. But the fact that he’s being forced onto issues rather than controlling his own messaging suggests he’s going to have considerable difficulty doing so. This, even as his rivals consolidate and assert themselves. We certainly shouldn’t count Lapid and Yesh Atid out, but if they don’t get a substantial amount of seats in January, enough to matter either in coalition bargaining or as a real opposition, like any “third party” in Israeli history, the chances of making it to the next election diminish considerably.

Cutting Off Its Nose to Spite Its Face

Given the Israeli government’s reaction to the Palestinian Authority’s plan to ask the UN for non-member observer state status, you’d think the PA was asking the General Assembly to resolve Israel out of existence. The government has threatened to “go crazy,” while the Prime Minister’s office apparently intends to show the Palestinians “what’s what.” The most extreme measures contemplated are building lots more settlements and halting transfers of tax revenue to the PA.

Put another way, Israel is being extremely short-sighted, and if it follows through with its threats, will put itself at great risk.

Mahmoud Abbas seems bent on pursuing this course while ignoring all the signals of lasting damage that could be done to the Palestinian government and the two-state solution. To be fair, virtually all of his options have been taken away from him: distracted by the American election, Iran, the Arab Awakening, and the rising power of Hamas, nobody is supporting the PA, leaving it to struggle alone against far more powerful forces. Although Abbas could do far, far more to convince Israel that he’s genuinely committed to peace negotiations, there’s no evidence that the government of Benjamin Netanyahu is interested and would take seriously any offers.

But still, Israel’s over-reaction is creating a situation in which it will be responsible for the collapse of the PA. It’s hard to see how this would benefit Israel. The West Bank will then be opened up to greater penetration by Hamas; the security cooperation between Israel and the PA, which has been successful at containing most violence and threats against Israelis, will end; the Salam Fayyad administration, which has been busy stabilizing the Palestinian economy—no small feat under contemporary conditions—and ensuring international support for a moderate government will disappear.

More settlements will also mean more settler violence against Palestinians and their property, which in turn will undermine the legitimacy and authority of the Israeli state.

It’s hard not to come to the conclusion that a third intifada is the likely outcome here, and moreover that Israel is simply not prepared for it or will be able to respond effectively. This is the conclusion reached by many Israel analysts and former military and intelligence officials; at best, serving officials argue, the current “quiet” in the West Bank is temporary. Nobody can say what form such an uprising would take, but coming while the nuclear issue with Iran is unresolved, the Syrian civil war rages, relations with Egypt continue to be marked by uncertainty, and the Sinai remains a source of danger, Israel cannot afford to direct soldiers and resources to the West Bank.

This is the moment for hard decisions in Israel, most of which go against long-standing assumptions and expectations. A broader policy framework needs to be constructed, one that incorporates policy toward Hamas/Gaza and the PA/West Bank. A firmer assertion of the state supremacy over domestic groups should complement this. And a more realistic assessment of the settlements is necessary.

The nature of governmental decision-making in Israel combined with the continual threats to the country hasn’t facilitated this kind of long-term thinking. The experience of surviving and prospering under all kinds of adverse conditions also engenders a kind of we-will-persevere-no-matter-what presumption.

These conditions are dangerous for the country’s future security, welfare, and stability. What will it take to get the country to take all this seriously?

A New Purpose for Turkish Foreign Policy?

For a short period of time, Turkey appeared to many to be a model for the rest of the Middle East. It’s “zero problems” foreign policy had warmed relations with its Arab and Iranian neighbors, the Kurdish opening was putting to rest concerns over its own democratic credentials, and its economy was growing fantastically.

I’ve argued before that the Turkish model was always over-stated and less applicable to the Arab states than assumed. And not surprisingly, Ankara has been struggling to find a coherent foreign policy framework since the collapse of strong relations with Israel, the Arab Awakening, and the renewed emphasis on Iran’s nuclear program.

Under these circumstances, any country would have a hard time constructing a clear regional strategy. It hasn’t helped that Turkey’s Prime Minister has been reactive rather than proactive. Growing concerns about the economy, the repression of Kurdish activists in conjunction with a more violent response to re-emerging PKK attacks, and the suppression of media criticism and other human rights violations have exacerbated these weaknesses.

Still, the continuing uncertainty of the Arab Awakening has provided Turkey with an opening to refocus its foreign policy, provided it can resist outsized rhetoric and adopt realistic policies that account for the difficulties of existing conditions. In particular, Turkey can play a leadership role in working to stabilize emergent systems and play a role in post-regime transitions.

The first instance was Turkey’s role in Libya. After some hesitation and uncertainty, Ankara worked quickly to establish good relations with the Transitional National Council and help shepherd it into power. It provided about $300 million in aid to the TNC at a crucial moment at its origins and worked to unfreeze around $3 billion in Libyan assets for the rebels to use. It also hosted a meeting of the Libya Contact Group, putting itself near the center of political and diplomatic efforts in the country.

Now in Syria it has been working to find an acceptable new government in preparation for the moment when the Asad regime is overthrown. In the spring it hosted the Friends of Syria, an international meeting convened to deal with the Syrian civil war. Most dramatically, Foreign Minister Ahmet Davutoğlu has now called for Syria’s Vice President, Farouk Sharaa, to lead a transitional government once Bashir Asad is gone.

Sharaa is no outsider, and his credibility is questionable. It’s also not clear that the Syrian opposition trusts or wants him (though there are now reports that it would consider him). But at least Turkey is working to take on a greater role in preparing for what comes next.

The Syrian opposition remains fragmented and many potential problems are obvious. And at the regional level it’s too early to call this a new trend in Turkish foreign policy. It’s also not clear how many more similar opportunities will be available.

But I think Ankara is finally doing what I’ve argued it needed to do a long time ago: work constructively within existing conditions to prepare for what comes after regimes are removed, and adopt a less aggressive leadership role while recognizing its limitations under existing conditions. It’s also a smart move because it compensates for Turkey’s reluctance to intervene more directly in the Syrian civil war, and for its less than sympathetic treatment of Syrian refugees. And the credibility Turkey creates with the new governments provides many post-Asad benefits, including economic, political, and security ones.

Turkey is starting to deal with its own political problems, particularly as the AKP prepares for some kind of leadership transition, and this could prove distracting to its foreign policy. But hopefully Turkey has learned from its past mistakes and will continue its regional efforts along a clearly laid out framework.

Turkey Won’t Be Invading Syria Any Time Soon

Yesterday’s Syrian shelling of the Turkish town of Akçakale, which killed five civilians, is certainly a cause for concern. On Twitter many were asking whether Turkey was about to commit military action in response. Close Turkey-watchers noted that Turkey’s military capabilities were more limited than presumed, that the logistical issues were very complicated, that political will and public support was lacking, and that there was no good reason—from Ankara’s perspective—to bog itself down in a drawn-out conflict and occupation in a country tearing itself apart through civil war. That Turkey has been trying to seal the border, including clamping down on Syrian refugee camps in the country, is further evidence of this.

A Turkish response was practically necessary, though, after the shooting down of its military planes and other provocations across the border. It came in the form of artillery shelling of Syrian targets.

But although the Turkish parliament has passed a resolution authorizing a one-year measure allowing the government to send the Turkish Armed Forces into “foreign countries” [i.e., not Syria specifically] if deemed necessary, and although Turkey asked NATO to convene an urgent meeting and demanded UN Security Council action, this is not the first step to an invasion or large-scale attack.

Michael Koplow effectively demonstrates why no-one—Turkey, NATO, or Syria—wants another, bigger war right now. Turkey, he continues, is simply stuck in a “lose-lose situation” regarding Syria—there are no good answers to the problems Syria poses for Turkey’s regional policy and its concern for Syrian civilians.

I would only add to his list that Turkey has many other concerns it is trying to balance out, including the simmering dispute with Israel, growing tensions with Iran, hints of domestic discontent with the ruling AKP government, possible internal competition between two of the AKP’s leaders (Abdullah Gül and Recep Tayyip Erdoğan), signs of emerging problems in the Turkish economy, the Arab Awakening, and an overall uncertainty about how to respond to regional changes and developments and reorient Turkish foreign policy.

A war with Syria, particularly one in which there is no clear objective, a real uncertainty as to the likely outcome, and no specific exit strategy, would throw all of these issues into further confusion and exacerbate the difficulties of constructing a new Middle East policy, one in which Turkey plays a leadership role that is respected by the new Arab governments.

Turkey’s shelling of Syria was a very flexible, limited, and safe military response that served as an indication of Turkish anger, capability, and willingness should it be pushed too far by Syria. The parliamentary resolution demonstrated political resolve. My guess is that Ankara is hoping this will be enough for quite a while.