Israel in a Changing Order: Scenarios, Risks, and Possible Outcomes

1. Israel as a laboratory of the twenty-first century

Viewing Israel solely as a case in the Middle East overlooks its broader significance. In the small strip of land between the Mediterranean and the Jordan River, many of the tensions shaping the modern international system are condensed as if in a pressure chamber: the relationship between military power and political legitimacy, the clash between national sovereignty and universal rights, the competition among geopolitical blocs, and the divide between globalized elites and polarized societies.

Israel is simultaneously an advanced techno-military power and a deeply divided society; a key ally of the United States and a lightning rod for hostility in the Global South; a democracy for some of its residents and a regime of domination over millions of Palestinians deprived of political rights. Within this web of forces lies the reason why Israel goes beyond being just a “regional dossier”: it becomes a mirror of the West’s contradictions and a testing ground for emerging forms of world order.

Over the past decades, Israel has built its external security and internal prosperity on four main pillars: local military dominance, selective integration into advanced economies, a strategic alliance with Washington, and the deliberate fragmentation of the regional order. The war in Gaza and the ongoing hegemonic shift are testing this structure. On one hand, Israel’s military dominance remains strong; on the other hand, the political, economic, and legal limitations on using force have changed significantly.

The Israeli case is not just a stage for an unresolved national dispute; it also serves as a measure of the health of the liberal order established after 1945. The ability – or inability – of Western powers to restrain an ally so deeply integrated into their security system reveals much about their true influence, beyond words. Similarly, the reactions of the Global South to the war in Gaza – from product boycotts to votes in international organizations – demonstrate how much the hierarchies of the past are now being challenged, even though no fully developed alternative order has yet emerged.

In this way, Israel acts as both a laboratory and a litmus test: what happens there predicts, amplifies, and reveals patterns that appear elsewhere in a more muted form. To analyze it is to observe, on a smaller scale, the tension between a collapsing order and an international system that has yet to find a new balance.

2. The transition of American hegemony and Israel’s place in it

Since the Six-Day War in 1967, Israel has relied heavily on its close relationship with the United States for its national strategy. Washington provided weapons, diplomatic support, and strategic coordination; in return, it gained a reliable ally in a region vital for energy supplies, shipping routes, and later, for containing the Soviet Union, revolutionary Iran, and jihadist groups. For decades, the power gap between the United States and the rest of the world kept this alliance mostly unchallenged.

Today, however, American dominance is shifting. The United States still leads in military and technological power, but it must allocate resources and attention across multiple battlegrounds: the Indo-Pacific, Eastern Europe, the Middle East, and the ongoing technological and industrial rivalry with China. Its ability to unilaterally set the rules has decreased; prioritization has become much more crucial.

The war in Gaza has highlighted this tension clearly. On one side, the United States remains Israel’s key supporter: providing military supplies, diplomatic protection, and deterrence against Iran and its allies. On the other side, the reputational costs of this support – especially among younger people, minorities, and in the Global South – are growing quickly. For more and more Americans, unconditional support for Israel is no longer a given but a matter of political debate.

Israel finds itself in a tricky position. It remains a key asset for Washington, but it risks becoming a liability if it repeatedly drags the United States into crises that hurt its global standing and divert resources from the race with China. As America’s internal divisions deepen, the Israeli-Palestinian issue becomes a battleground among factions – liberals, progressives, neoconservatives, and the new nationalist right – rather than a matter of bipartisan consensus.

For Israel, the shift in American hegemony raises several strategic questions: How much can it continue to depend on Washington’s protection? How far will it need to modify its military and territorial strategies to meet the evolving expectations of a pressured ally? And what might happen if, during a severe domestic crisis or international retreat, the U.S. decided to significantly reduce its political and financial support for Israel?

None of these questions has a clear answer for now. But they do sketch out the edges of a world where the “American umbrella” is no longer a fixed structure, but something that must be reasserted politically with each new crisis.

3. Israel in a Fragmented Middle East: Regional Powers, Non-State Actors, and Paradoxical Convergences

Meanwhile, the regional situation where Israel operates has shifted significantly. We are no longer in an era of largely unified national blocs — Nasser’s Egypt, Ba’athist Syria, Saddam’s Iraq — confronting a pro-Western front. Today’s Middle East is a mosaic of fragile states, assertive regional powers, and non-state actors with military power, territorial control, and ideological legitimacy.

Alongside Israel, we see Turkey, Iran, Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, Qatar, and Egypt, each with its own power ambitions. Turkey swings between cooperation, competition, and latent conflict with Israel, shifting from neo-Ottoman aspirations to pragmatic calculations; Iran relies on a network of militias — Hezbollah, Hamas, Islamic Jihad, Shiite militias in Iraq, and the Houthis in Yemen — to project influence and weaken its enemies; the Gulf monarchies alternate between normalization with Israel, intra-Arab rivalry, and confrontation with Tehran. Lebanon remains stuck because of Hezbollah’s presence and government paralysis; Syria is a destroyed land, occupied by foreign powers; Iraq exists under fragile sovereignty, influenced by militias and foreign interference.

In this scenario, Israel no longer faces only states but also hybrid actors that challenge traditional categories of international law and deterrence: militias with missile arsenals, transnational networks of fighters, and politico-religious organizations that enjoy social legitimacy across broad segments of the population. The line separating conventional war, insurgency, terrorism, and organized crime blurs; the classic sequence “war between states – peace between states” no longer suffices to describe the situation.

For years, Israel benefited from this fragmentation: the weakness of Arab coalitions, rivalry among Arab states, the collapse of Syria and Iraq, and many regimes’ reliance on U.S. protection, as well as Egypt and Jordan, and from the Iranian threat, which lowered the risk of large-scale conventional wars. At the same time, however, it led to more scenarios of low-intensity conflict that are hard to attribute and therefore difficult to deter: rocket attacks, sabotage, cyber operations, and actions by militias supported by third parties.

In this context, the old strategy of “breaking the neighbors” and exploiting their divisions becomes increasingly problematic. In the short term, it hampers the formation of unified state fronts against Israel; in the medium and long term, it contributes to a region filled with armed groups, accumulated grievances, and radicalization processes that will eventually lead to new threats.

Israel’s position is therefore doubly paradoxical: it benefits from regional fragmentation — which makes hostile state coalitions harder to form — but at the same time is one of the actors that suffers most from an environment characterized by networked wars, transnational militias, and ongoing low-intensity conflicts. Israeli security can no longer rely solely on superiority over regular armies; it must contend with a fluid ecosystem where territorial control, perception management, and competition for ideological legitimacy are just as important as traditional military strength. In such a Middle East, security is no longer a static condition but a dynamic balance that must be continuously maintained.

4. The Palestinian Question After Gaza: From Local Conflict to Global Paradigm

If Part I showed how the Gaza war is the peak of a long series of conflicts, operations, and failed “peace processes,” the post-Gaza phase introduces a new scenario: the Palestinian question is no longer seen just as a local or regional conflict but as a global paradigm.

For an expanding segment of global public opinion — especially among young people, the left, anti-racist movements, and critical sectors of the Global South — Palestinians are seen as a people subjected to occupation and systemic inequality. Focus has shifted from only war or terrorism to concerns about daily life under occupation: movement restrictions, daily checks, and unequal access to resources and rights. Images of destroyed neighborhoods, bombed hospitals, mass displacement, and dead children are viewed through a political language that includes terms like “settler colonialism”, “apartheid”, “systemic violence”, and even “genocide.”

This transformation has two main effects. First, the Palestinian issue is no longer just a regional concern handled by diplomats and security agencies but a global symbol influencing debates in legislatures, social movements, universities, the media, and diaspora communities. Second, it becomes a battleground for polarization between those emphasizing Israel’s right to defend itself, even at the cost of significant “collateral damage,” and others viewing the Gaza war as evidence of the hypocrisy of an international system that promotes universal values but applies norms selectively and unevenly.

For Israel, this shift presents a challenge that is fundamentally different from those in the past. It is no longer just about “winning the war on image” or managing media perception; it involves facing the risk that the Palestinian issue becomes, for many, a symbol of the broader legitimacy crisis of the liberal international order. Its alliances with the United States and much of Europe still provide Israel with significant diplomatic and military flexibility, but they are no longer sufficient to counteract the cumulative effects of protests, boycott campaigns, legal initiatives, and shifting public opinion worldwide.

Paradoxically, Israel’s military strength and its ability to resist diplomatic pressure may, in the long run, have the opposite effect: transforming Israel, in the eyes of many, from a “small, besieged democracy” into the very example of a power seen as colonial, supported by states that preach universalist values but apply them selectively. In this sense, the post-Gaza phase will not be determined solely by the situation on the ground between Israelis and Palestinians, but also by the more subtle yet vital terrain of global perceptions and the legitimacy of using force in the twenty-first century.

5. International Norms, the Laws of War, and the Crisis of Western Legitimacy

The conduct of the war in Gaza and the reactions of Western capitals have highlighted a question that runs through the entire system: What, exactly, are international norms on the use of force and the laws of war for if the very states that built the liberal order cannot — or will not — apply them when a strategic ally is involved? For decades, Western rhetoric has promised a “rules-based order,” in which even the strongest would accept limits on their sovereignty in the name of a more stable and just framework.

Over the last several decades, that promise has gradually been undermined: selective humanitarian interventions, preventive wars, regime change operations, double standards in applying international law, and the instrumental use of investigative commissions and tribunals have all contributed to the perception that international law is not a neutral set of rules but a language applied differently depending on the power of the actors involved. The Gaza war clearly reflects this trend: while violations of norms by certain adversaries (for example, Russia in Ukraine) are met with strong condemnation, sanctions, and punitive measures, Israel’s conduct is criticized rhetorically but continues to enjoy almost unconditional political and military support, limited only to generic calls for “proportionality” and civilian protection.

On one hand, this process increases pressure on Israel and its allies. Mass protests, campus campaigns, cases before the International Court of Justice and the International Criminal Court, and debates over arms embargoes and divestment all demonstrate that part of the political, academic, and social world no longer accepts the gap between declared principles and actual practice. On the other hand, however, a more cynical view is gaining ground: for many, international law and the norms of war seem increasingly like a cover for unequal power relations, enforced strictly when the rival is targeted and downplayed when the ally is involved.

In this complicated situation, Israel plays a dual role. On one hand, it serves as a recurring example for those criticizing the hypocrisy of the liberal order: How can a system that claims to protect human rights universally tolerate such widespread destruction without effective controls and sanctions? On the other hand, it acts as a test case for those who, while acknowledging flaws in the current system, still see international law — however imperfect — as the only alternative to reverting to raw power politics. If it’s already tough to sanction an openly hostile adversary, how can the international community act consistently when there is no declared enemy but rather a central Western ally?

Regardless of the answer, one thing is clear: the legitimacy crisis surrounding Israel doesn’t only concern Israel and the United States; it challenges the entire normative framework that supports the liberal order’s claim to universality. As the gap between declared principles and selective practices becomes more evident, it becomes increasingly difficult to argue that international norms represent a shared standard rather than the reflection of shifting power dynamics.

6. Three Trajectories for Israel in the World System

By synthesizing insights from Parts I and II, along with the analysis in this third section — the shift of American hegemony, regional fragmentation, the globalization of the Palestinian issue, and the legitimacy crisis of the liberal order — we can broadly outline three potential pathways for Israel within the global system. These are not predictions or precise forecasts but conceptual frameworks that clarify the range of possible outcomes.

First trajectory: identity crystallization and controlled semi-isolation.

In this scenario, Israel deliberately chooses to accept increasing international isolation to maintain, without major concessions, the current structure of its territorial control and national identity as defined today by its dominant bloc. The primary goal is to hold onto control over the entire area between the Mediterranean and the Jordan River, prevent any significant Palestinian sovereignty, and reinforce a system of structural inequality between Jewish citizens and the Palestinian population. Tensions with parts of the international community are seen as an unavoidable cost; the relationship with the United States is maintained, even if it results in recurring diplomatic and reputational crises. The outcome is an Israel that is becoming militarily stronger but more isolated within its own narrative, heavily reliant on American support, and gradually drifting into a form of controlled semi-isolation from much of the international system.

Second trajectory: negotiated readjustment.

In this scenario, Israel, faced with combined pressures from domestic issues (social and political divisions, economic costs of war, dissent within parts of the elite), shifts in the American context (generational changes, new strategic priorities), and judicial and international pressures (cases at the ICC and ICJ, restrictions on arms exports, damage to its image), chooses a gradual approach. Without abandoning its alliance with Washington or its military dominance, it agrees to adjust certain policies toward the Palestinians and the region, creating space for more meaningful forms of Palestinian sovereignty or hybrid models of political coexistence. Under this plan, Israel aims to maintain its role as a regional power and key U.S. ally while reentering a more credible legal and political framework, thereby reducing the reputational damage of its security decisions.

Third trajectory: permanent crisis management.

This scenario is the closest to current inertia: Israel opts for neither full identity closure nor deep political reform but instead navigates, crisis after crisis, a coexistence of occupation, low-intensity conflict, intermittent negotiations, and sporadic regional normalization. Military operations alternate with fragile ceasefires; “economic peace” initiatives attempt to offset, without resolving, structural inequalities; international pressure is managed through tactical adjustments and limited concessions. The country avoids major strategic decisions, relying on its military advantage and the resilience of its alliance with the United States, but this comes at the cost of an open-ended conflict and the gradual erosion of its international legitimacy.

These three trajectories are not mutually exclusive: elements of each can coexist and combine at different stages. Identity crystallization may be accompanied by episodes of partial readjustment; ongoing crisis management can suddenly shift into semi-isolation or into intensified negotiations. What remains constant is the core issue: Israel’s ability — or inability — to redefine its national project in relation to the Palestinians, the regional system, and the global normative order.

7. General Conclusion: Survival, Hybris, and the Limits of Force

This entire essay centers on a paradox: Israel considers itself both perpetually threatened and a regional power capable of achieving its strategic goals. On one hand, memories of the Shoah, the wars of 1948 and 1973, terrorism, and hostility from neighboring countries create a persistent sense of existential insecurity; on the other hand, recent decades show a country that has managed to control its demographics within its occupied territories, effectively expand its borders, keep its neighbors divided in a manageable way, and strengthen an alliance with the United States.

This perception of vulnerability has resulted in notable outcomes: it has spurred extraordinary social mobilization, rapid technological progress, a highly effective military, and a strong ability to exploit weaknesses in the regional system. However, it has also caused significant drawbacks. It has made accepting self-imposed limits on the use of force very difficult, encouraged the reliance on military strength, and repeatedly obstructed political solutions to the Palestinian conflict and its internal divisions.

Parts I and II showed how, in pursuing its four main goals — demographic control, strategic depth, fragmentation of neighboring states, and a structural alliance with the United States — Israel has built a system based on a fragile balance between security and domination, between democracy for some and structural inequality for others. Part III highlighted how this system now faces a drastically changed environment: the decline of American hegemony, a fragmented regional order, the globalization of the Palestinian issue, and the legitimacy crisis of the liberal order. The framework that guided Israeli actions for decades — between war and peace, power and legitimacy, security and rights — no longer functions as it once did.

The endpoint remains largely uncertain. None of the trajectories described — whether it’s identity crystallization and controlled semi-isolation, negotiated readjustment, or ongoing crisis management — are fixed. All depend on political choices, shifting domestic dynamics, the evolving relationship with the United States, the capacity of Arab and Palestinian societies to reorganize, and the unfolding of the international order in transition. The only certainty is that the ongoing combination of persistent occupation, recurring war, deep internal polarization, and external dependence cannot be sustained forever without increasing costs, both for Israel and its surrounding environment.

It is precisely in this space — between external and internal forces, power and vulnerability, survival and hybris — that the future of the Jewish state will be shaped. The key question is not only whether Israel can maintain its military dominance but also whether it can redefine its internal consensus and its role in the world in a way that consistently allows for the existence of another people with similar rights to rootedness, autonomy, and recognition. Only when Palestinians are no longer viewed solely as a security threat and are recognized as a political entity — and only if the international order around Israel can uphold its own norms without double standards — will it be possible to envision a future beyond endlessly managing a continuous crisis.