Last month, Benjamin Netanyahu announced his choice of Yossi Cohen—the sitting national-security adviser and a former deputy chief of the Mossad—as that organization’s new head. It was in many ways a natural choice. However, writes Haviv Rettig Gur, the way Cohen came to the position, and the fanfare around the unprecedentedly public announcement of his appointment, must be seen as products of Israeli party politics, the current state of Israeli public opinion, and the prime minister’s consequent effort to reshape the executive branch:

The Mossad has long served as a kind of subterranean foreign service, taking on diplomatic work too sensitive to risk handing to the official (and by reputation, leaky) diplomatic corps. . . . With many of Israel’s diplomatic relationships heavily focused on national-security concerns, the Mossad’s channels to foreign governments and espionage services often carry the lion’s share of the most important, urgent, and sensitive communications produced by the highest echelons of government.

Under Netanyahu, this role is growing. The Mossad is effectively replacing the Foreign Ministry as a policy-planning and diplomatic agency—at least for those relationships or issues that matter most: the Iranian nuclear portfolio, the relationship with the highest echelons in Washington and major European capitals, and coordination with Arab governments.

The reason goes beyond the simple fact that the Mossad is one of the few agencies of government that—again, at least by reputation—can keep a secret. The Mossad’s larger advantage for Netanyahu is that it lies deep within the purview of the Prime Minister’s Office, and operates under his authority alone.

In Israel’s party-list coalition system, where the foreign minister is almost necessarily a direct political competitor to the prime minister either from within the ruling party or as head of [another party within the coalition], and thus has a fundamental political interest in clashing with the prime minister, the Mossad constitutes a tantalizing second option: a direct, quiet means for conducting foreign policy without the chaos and gamesmanship introduced by coalition politics.

If Iran succeeds in obtaining nuclear weapons, the war in Gaza, let alone the protests on college campuses, will seem like a minor complication. Jonathan Schachter fears that this danger could be much more imminent than decisionmakers in Jerusalem and Washington believe. In his view, Israel seems to be repeating the mistake that allowed it to be taken by surprise on Simchat Torah of 2023 and Yom Kippur of 1973: putting too much faith in an intelligence concept that could be wrong.

Israel and the United States apparently believe that despite Iran’s well-documented progress in developing capabilities necessary for producing and delivering nuclear weapons, as well as its extensive and ongoing record of violating its international nuclear obligations, there is no acute crisis because building a bomb would take time, would be observable, and could be stopped by force. Taken together, these assumptions and their moderating impact on Israeli and American policy form a new Iran concept reminiscent of its 1973 namesake and of the systemic failures that preceded the October 7 massacre.

Meanwhile, most of the restrictions put in place by the 2015 nuclear deal will expire by the end of next year, rendering the question of Iran’s adherence moot. And the forces that could be taking action aren’t:

The European Union regularly issues boilerplate press releases asserting its members’ “grave concern.” American decisionmakers and spokespeople have created the unmistakable impression that their reservations about the use of force are stronger than their commitment to use force to prevent an Iranian atomic bomb. At the same time, the U.S. refuses to enforce its own sanctions comprehensively: Iranian oil exports (especially to China) and foreign-currency reserves have ballooned since January 2021, when the Biden administration took office.

Israel’s response has also been sluggish and ambiguous. Despite its oft-stated policy of never allowing a nuclear Iran, Israel’s words and deeds have sent mixed messages to allies and adversaries—perhaps inadvertently reinforcing the prevailing sense in Washington and elsewhere that Iran’s nuclear efforts do not present an exigent crisis.