In recent years, Israel has expanded its economic and diplomatic ties with various countries in Asia, Africa, and Latin America—links that could conceivably offset potential damage from an increasingly hostile Europe and a less-than-wholly-supportive U.S. Has Jerusalem, then, deliberately shaped business ties in support of its diplomatic initiatives? Yitzhak Klein and Elisheva Berenbaum argue that in fact the distribution of Israel’s foreign trade has remained relatively static:

That Israel is making efforts to create closer economic relations with new partners is indisputable. But creating such opportunities is not the same thing as manipulating trade relations to reduce exposure to potentially problematic trading partners while increasing trade with diplomatically more congenial ones. . . .

Israel’s economic performance over the past decade and a half has been a solid if not a stellar success, better than most developed economies’ records. This success is one of Israel’s most important diplomatic assets: Israel’s economy is stable, growing, and features brilliant technical achievements based on its comparative advantage—a highly educated and innovative workforce. Israel is a major beneficiary of the open global economy, and its trade is determined by domestic demand and production, not by the government picking winners, whether for economic or diplomatic purposes.

The actions of other governments may, of course, force Israel to change this pattern. So far, however, the lack of Israeli diplomacy’s influence on its trade has made a quieter, more consistent, and more substantial contribution to the country’s success than any diplomatic photo opportunity.

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.