Is the turmoil good or bad for Israel?

Israel and its neighbours

Mar 17th 2005 JERUSALEM
From The Economist print edition

The Jewish state surveys its position in a changing region with a mixture of nervous uncertainty and cautious hope

TO HEAR some of its bitkhonistim (security types) talk, you might think that Israel, ever wary, was now in greater danger than ever. Though its neighbours have neither the strength nor the stomach for a fight these days, there are new threats of all kinds. The Palestinians' intifada has spawned a ruthless breed of militants, Hizbullah harries Israel from its south Lebanon encampments—army officers eagerly point out the Party of God's pale yellow flags fluttering a stone's throw from the border fence, pictured above—and the prospect of being nuked by Iran seems to loom ever larger.

Yet, says Shai Feldman, until recently head of Israel's Jaffee Centre for Strategic Studies and now at Brandeis University in the United States, “regionally, Israel is in a much better situation than it's ever been.” Its one-time foes are weaker militarily and economically, and it remains, for now, the region's only nuclear-armed state. Russia, despite a recent arms deal with Syria, is still more Israel's friend than the Arabs'—the reverse of the Soviet stance. Iraq, post-Saddam, no longer growls at Israel. And though America has recently made warning noises about Israeli settlement-building in the West Bank, it seems unlikely to apply serious pressure at least until after Israel leaves the Gaza strip, later this year.

Above all, there is, if not yet a peace process with the Palestinians, at least a thaw. And that has historically always made other Arab states warm to Israel, partly because doing so scores them points with the United States. Egypt, in particular, cold-shouldered Ariel Sharon early in his prime ministership. But, frustrated with Yasser Arafat in his last two years as Palestinian leader, and frightened by the bombing at the Red Sea resort of Taba last October, Egypt is grabbing the chance “to be the handmaid of peace, and show its position in the Arab world,” says Shlomo Avineri, an Israeli political scientist.

It hosted the first summit between Mr Sharon and the Palestinian president, Mahmoud Abbas, last month. This week it held more truce talks between the Palestinian Authority and militant factions. In December it signed an agreement with Israel to create joint “qualified industrial zones”, which will enjoy free-trade terms with the United States, and is expected to sign a deal to sell gas to Israel. It will beef up its presence on the Gaza-Egypt border after Israel pulls out of Gaza later this year, and it promises to crack down on arms smugglers. To Hosni Mubarak, now aiming for his fifth presidential term, armed Islamists are nearly as much of a worry in Gaza as they are on home turf.

What unnerves Israel most is not the risks it knows but those it cannot predict. What next after Syria's withdrawal from Lebanon, hastened by protests there against the killing of Rafik Hariri, the former prime minister? It is unlikely much to change Israel's relations with Syria, whose timid peace overtures over the past year or so, to curry favour with the United States, have been rebuffed: Israel is in no hurry to return to talks about giving back the Golan Heights, which it occupied in 1967. And though Syria is now under more international pressure than ever, Israel will not want to deal with two peace processes at once.

Hizbullah, though, is another matter. In one Israeli view, since it enjoys Syria's backing, the departure of its sponsor will surely weaken it. In the other, apparently espoused by Israel's national security adviser, Giora Eiland, Hizbullah enjoys strong support of its own, as shown by recent demonstrations in Beirut (balanced by equally massive anti-Syrian ones). Forget mere potshots across the border fence: released from Syria's thumb, Hizbullah might take more power democratically—a Lebanon-as-Iran scenario.

Hopes of taming the extremists?

Yet even that may not be such a bad thing, for few Lebanese these days want trouble with Israel. “The more Hizbullah becomes part of the Lebanese political scene,” argues Mr Feldman, “the more the pressure will be not to continue the fight against Israel, but the opposite.” The party this week cautiously welcomed a suggestion from George Bush that it do just that.

Some Israelis apply a similar logic to Hamas, the main Islamist Palestinian party, which, like Hizbullah, built a solid base of support both for its militancy and its local welfare projects. With Palestinians tired of the intifada, Hamas's expected success in local elections this year could also push it towards more moderation.

That the bitkhonistim differ on these and other questions—such as how much to trust the Egyptians and which concessions to make to Mr Abbas—is a measure of the changing situation they face. The one thing they do agree on is that Iran is an existential threat: it could have nuclear weapons within three years, says Ephraim Kam, an Iran specialist at the Jaffee Centre. Though the chance of their being used is very small, the mere idea dents Israel's once boundless self-confidence.

So what to do? Diplomacy to halt Iran's nuclear plans has had little success. Last week America switched from stick to carrot, hinting at possible WTO membership. All agree that attacking Iran's facilities, as Israel did with an Iraqi reactor in 1981, would be far harder this time: they are better protected, more dispersed. But it is still plain that, if it becomes clear that Iran is producing nuclear fuel independently, then the final resort of an Israeli pre-emptive strike cannot be ruled out.

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