Our Neighbors Don’t Have to Love Us

The report was only a few lines long, but it landed with unusual force. According to recent disclosures, an unidentified Arab country that had been making peace overtures toward Israel was allegedly planning to use any agreement merely as a temporary expedient until conditions were ripe for confrontation, upon which it would attack. No names were released. Yet in a region where diplomatic possibilities are limited and carefully scrutinized, speculation was inevitable. Most people figured that the culprit was Saudi Arabia, but that misses the point. More important than the identity of the state is the lesson hidden within the report itself.

Many observers immediately noted the resemblance to the Treaty of Hudaybiyyah, signed by the Prophet Muhammad with the Quraysh tribe in 628 CE. The treaty was originally intended to suspend hostilities and create stability. Over time, however, it became embedded in the political vocabulary of the Middle East as an example of a temporary agreement entered into from a position of weakness and abandoned when circumstances changed. Whether one views that interpretation as historical reality or later political mythology, the concept has influenced generations of leaders and strategists. The idea that peace agreements can serve tactical rather than permanent purposes is hardly unique to the Middle East. It is as old as diplomacy itself.

What is perhaps more intriguing than the report's contents is the decision to release it. Israeli intelligence services generally guard sensitive information jealously. If no country was identified, why disclose the information at all? I suggest that the report was not primarily about the state in question. It was directed at the Israeli on the street. Intelligence assessments often serve as warnings, and this warning may have been aimed less at exposing a particular actor than at reminding Israelis of a fundamental truth: intentions matter, but capabilities matter more.

Since its founding in 1948, Israel has sought something entirely reasonable. We have wanted to be accepted by our neighbors. We have repeatedly extended our hand in peace, signed agreements, withdrawn from territory, and taken calculated risks in pursuit of coexistence. This aspiration is not a weakness. It is one of Israel's greatest strengths. A nation that values life naturally seeks peace.

The challenge begins when hope overwhelms prudence. Again and again, Israeli leaders convinced themselves that economic incentives, international legitimacy, and mutual prosperity could transform deeply rooted conflicts. Sometimes they were right. Peace with Egypt has endured for nearly half a century. The Abraham Accords opened doors that once seemed permanently closed. But not every adversary evaluates incentives through the same lens.

The catastrophe of October 7 shattered a series of assumptions that had become deeply embedded within Israeli strategic thinking. We convinced ourselves that prosperity would moderate hostility. We assumed that economic development would create common interests stronger than ideological commitments. We came to believe that if we offered enough opportunity, enough technology, and enough stability, our enemies would eventually seek the same future we sought. We committed the cardinal error of foisting our values on people whose values were vastly different than ours. In retrospect, we were behaving as though we lived in Scandinavia, surrounded by Denmark and Finland, rather than in the Middle East, a region with its own history, culture, and realpolitik.

Niccolò Machiavelli famously observed that it is safer for a ruler to be feared than loved. Modern democratic societies understandably recoil from such language. Americans and Israelis alike prefer partnerships built on trust and shared values. Yet Machiavelli’s insight survives because it reflects a reality of international relations. In the Middle East, nations are respected first for their strength and only then for their goodwill. Good intentions unsupported by credible power invite challenges. Power exercised wisely deters them.

Israel is no longer a fragile state struggling for survival. It is a regional military superpower, a technological powerhouse, and a central player in global affairs. The lesson of the recent report is not that peace is impossible. On the contrary, peace remains both desirable and achievable. The lesson is that durable peace is secured not by wishes but by strength. Our neighbors do not have to love us. They do not even have to like us. They simply need to understand that agreements with Israel must be permanent because violating them carries unacceptable consequences. In the Middle East, respect is a necessary prerequisite for peace. The surest way to preserve peace is to ensure that respect never fades.

Good things,

Ari Sacher