Surveying the entire history of the Jewish state’s relations with the Soviet Union and then Russia from 1948 to the present, Micky Aharonson investigates some of its many paradoxes. Most recently and notably, these include the two countries’ close military contacts and maintenance of at least a façade of friendship despite the fact that their strategic interests in Syria are diametrically opposed. Also, there is Moscow’s persistently expressed opposition to Sunni Muslim terrorist groups coupled with its diplomatic recognition of Hamas’s Sunni terrorist regime in Gaza:

Russian policy on the Palestinian issue and relations with the various Palestinian organizations are directly related to its interests in the Middle East and its desire to achieve the status of a superpower that mediates in regional negotiations. In recent years, Russia has . . . proposed an international conference in Moscow to solve the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with the participation of all the involved parties. . . .

Russia was [also] the first country to recognize the Hamas government in Gaza and received Hamas representatives for an official visit to Moscow. . . . The Russians have continued over the years to maintain open dialogue with Hamas. According to the Russians, their goal is to [integrate Hamas into the peace process] and to [garner its] support for the PLO and an Arab peace initiative. . . . In contrast to the [U.S. and even the EU], it did not . . . define [Hamas] as a terror organization. . . . This attitude is not the result of any particular sympathy for the organization but rather the Russian fear of a change in leadership by external intervention. The Russians are consistent in adopting [this] line . . . out of fear that such events will become legitimate in other [countries as well], including Russia itself.

Hamas, however, is not the main obstacle to Russo-Israeli concord:

Russia has an economic and even strategic interest in selling advanced weaponry and nuclear capability to countries that constitute a direct threat to Israel, while Israel has an economic and strategic interest in the sale of advanced weaponry to countries that are militarily and strategically sensitive from Russia’s viewpoint. [I]n the Second Lebanon War, for example, Hizballah made use of weapons provided by Russia to Syria, including Kornet and Metis missiles, which managed to damage even the latest model of Israel’s Merkava tank. . . . [T]he media later reported that Russia had provided intelligence to Hizballah during the war and that the Russian communication station on the Syrian border conveyed information to Hizballah forces. Since those events, Israel has continued to warn Russia—at dozens of meetings and at all diplomatic levels—of the “leakage” of weapons that had been shipped to Syria or Russian weapons that make their way from Iran into the hands of Hizballah. . . .

Russia for its part is highly sensitive to the sale of military knowhow and advanced weapons by Israel to former Soviet countries with which Russia has [poor] relations. Georgia is a prime example. In 2008, during the war between Russia and Georgia, Russia accused Israel of supporting Georgia by supplying it with arms. . . .

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.