A few weeks ago, Benjamin Netanyahu made a pre-election promise about the Jordan Valley, obtained by Israel during the Six-Day War. His statement, misreported as an intention to annex the territory—instead he spoke of applying Israeli sovereignty to parts of it—raised a predictable hue and cry. But, notes Gershon Hacohen, the statement was perfectly in keeping with the thinking of Israeli leaders from Levi Eshkol to Yitzḥak Rabin, and is rooted in the Jewish state’s strategic needs. Hacohen explains the flaws in the thinking that in 2000 led then-Prime Minister Ehud Barak to deviate from this position:

After the peace treaty with Jordan in 1994, and especially after the collapse of Saddam Hussein’s army in the Iraq war (2003), it has been increasingly argued that the threat of an eastern front has passed and controlling the Jordan Valley is no longer crucial to Israel’s security. Even [in 1994], this argument was divorced from a basic understanding of the phenomenon of war.

Since that time, in light of the lessons of the [second intifada], the “Arab Spring,” Hizballah’s enormous missile arsenal, and the strengthening of . . . Hamas, as well as Tehran’s growing expansionism—which [could give Iran the potential to] deploy Shiite militias in a new front along Israel’s main [north-south] artery (Highway 6)—the Jordan Valley’s status as a vital Israeli security interest has only increased.

Most [Israeli] advocates of a Palestinian state say it will be demilitarized and unable to threaten Israel’s security. During the Oslo years, the PLO feigned acceptance of demilitarization and signed a number of agreements to this specific effect, only to violate them flagrantly as the West Bank and Gaza were transformed into hothouses of terror. The failure of the UN forces in Lebanon . . . to prevent Hizballah from arming itself in the south of that country shows why proposals to deploy international forces in a similar role in the Jordan Valley cannot guarantee a true demilitarization. Thus the Jordan Valley, as a buffer zone controlled by the IDF, is an existential necessity when it comes to Israel’s security.

In addition to the security issue, the Jordan Valley in its full geographical scope can house millions of Israelis and provide a location for national infrastructure that cannot be compressed into the coastal plain. . . . In an era of peace, a developed infrastructure of roads [there] could once again turn the Land of Israel into a vital land bridge between Asia and Africa.

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.