In addition to one or two thousand Iranian troops in Syria, Tehran also has at under its command some 100,000 Syrian militiamen and 20,000-25,000 fighters from Lebanon, Iraq, Afghanistan, and Pakistan. The Islamic Republic has also successfully completed a land bridge running from its borders, through Iraq and Syria, to Lebanon; it now plans to build air, naval, and land bases in Syrian territory. Thus far, Israel has effectively used airstrikes and artillery fire to enforce its red lines in Syria, but, argues Michael Herzog, the ayatollahs may soon become bolder about striking back:

For Israel, the risk of escalation in Syria has remained low so long as the war raged and the relevant actors were heavily enough involved that they could not afford to open another front with Israel. . . . But such risk of escalation is likely to increase as the war nears an end, de-escalation and political solutions dictate the agenda, an emboldened Syrian regime regains control over most of the country, and Iran entrenches itself more deeply in the area. In such a context, Israeli preventive measures are likely to incur bold responses from the Iran-Syria camp, and possibly Russian pressure for Israeli restraint so as to avoid escalation and the undermining of a Russian-led political process.

Indeed, earlier in 2017, the Syrian regime began responding to perceived Israeli strikes by firing in the direction of Israeli planes. While not endangering the planes, these actions signaled growing boldness and a greater inclination to respond, prompting an Israeli decision to retaliate to any such firing, with the aim of definitively protecting its freedom of operation, including against the introduction and use of sophisticated air-defense capabilities—another Israeli red line. . . .

One [can reasonably] assume that Iran and Syria are now seeking ways to create counter-deterrence vis-à-vis Israel, which in turn could add fuel to the sizzling fire. . . . [A]s the risks of friction with Iran grow in Syria, Israel will have to assess more carefully the delicate balance of deterrence in order to avert both a major military escalation [and Russia turning against the Jewish state]—both highly undesired outcomes from Israel’s standpoint. A growing challenge to Israel’s stated red lines will call for a more conscientious definition of what constitutes a real, not rhetorical, red line whose violation would justify action even at the risk of major military escalation [with Iran and its proxies] or tension with Russia. If Israel feels a certain Iranian move is likely to develop into an intolerable challenge in a future confrontation with Iran and Hizballah, it would likely take action and risk confrontation now, on better terms, rather than later. . . .

Ultimately, [however], countering Iranian plans in Syria would be much easier and more effective if Israel’s deterrent actions fit within a broader, proactive U.S. strategy to block Iran in the region, rather than Israel shouldering most of the burden alone.

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.