In the past few decades, Israel has undergone a diplomatic revolution, in part by using its newfound status as an engine of technological innovation, reversing many years of isolation and hostility. These achievements can in many ways be chalked up to what political scientists call “soft power.” But Israel has always known that soft power can supplement, but not replace, the state’s capacity to defend itself from terrorism and military aggression, and to project its own deterrent force. The rest of the world is again learning to appreciate the irreplaceable necessities of “hard power.” Rich Lowry writes:

After the Russian invasion of Ukraine, Volodymyr Zelensky had bucketfuls of soft power. He was the most admired man in the world. He spoke at the United Nations, to Congress and other national legislative bodies, and even at the Grammys. What did that get him? It helped solidify the good will of Western countries, which was essential. He constantly tried to leverage that sentiment, though, for the hardheaded priority of more weapons.

Zelensky could still be admired in death, or in a Russian prison, or as an exile. Yet, if he wanted to continue to be admired as the leader of an independent country, he needed sheer firepower. Ukraine’s cause hasn’t gotten any more just or inspiring over the last couple of months; it’s gotten better armed.

The United States is a marvel of soft power, binding allies to us, attracting people all over the world who want to come here, and reaching the most far-flung places in the world. What we’ve been able to provide Ukraine that has been most telling, though, hasn’t been diplomatic or moral support, rather a system that can put a rocket directly on a target up to 50 miles away.

That’s been the game changer, as better military technology has always been, from long bows to arquebuses, from muskets to fighter jets. There is simply no substitute for hard power.

Addressing a recent meeting of the Palestine Liberation Organization’s Central Committee, Mahmoud Abbas criticized Hamas more sharply than he has previously (at least in public), calling them “sons of dogs.” The eighty-nine-year-old Palestinian Authority president urged the terrorist group to “stop the war of extermination in Gaza” and “hand over the American hostages.” The editors of the New York Sun comment:

Mr. Abbas has long been at odds with Hamas, which violently ousted his Fatah party from Gaza in 2007. The tone of today’s outburst, though, is new. Comparing rivals to canines, which Arabs consider dirty, is startling. Its motivation, though, was unrelated to the plight of the 59 remaining hostages, including 23 living ones. Instead, it was an attempt to use an opportune moment for reviving Abbas’s receding clout.

[W]hile Hamas’s popularity among Palestinians soared after its orgy of killing on October 7, 2023, it is now sinking. The terrorists are hoarding Gaza aid caches that Israel declines to replenish. As the war drags on, anti-Hamas protests rage across the Strip. Polls show that Hamas’s previously elevated support among West Bank Arabs is also down. Striking the iron while it’s hot, Abbas apparently longs to retake center stage. Can he?

Diminishing support for Hamas is yet to match the contempt Arabs feel toward Abbas himself. Hamas considers him irrelevant for what it calls “the resistance.”

[Meanwhile], Abbas is yet to condemn Hamas’s October 7 massacre. His recent announcement of ending alms for terror is a ruse.

Abbas, it’s worth noting, hasn’t saved all his epithets for Hamas. He also twice said of the Americans, “may their fathers be cursed.” Of course, after a long career of anti-Semitic incitement, Abbas can’t be expected to have a moral awakening. Nor is there much incentive for him to fake one. But, like the protests in Gaza, Abbas’s recent diatribe is a sign that Hamas is perceived as weak and that its stock is sinking.