The Israel–Lebanon agreement exposes two opposing strategies: defeating Iran’s proxies to restore sovereignty, or appeasing them while pressuring Israel.

The framework agreement signed in Washington between Israel and Lebanon is more than a bilateral security arrangement. It is a strategic test that reveals the choice facing governments that claim to seek regional stability: either roll back the Islamic Republic of Iran and its proxies, or accommodate them while pressing Israel for concessions.

Lebanon’s tragedy has not been a lack of international sympathy. It has been the absence of sovereignty. No state can be sovereign when an armed militia, financed and guided by a foreign power, controls territory and decides matters of war and peace. No government can restore national authority while a terrorist army stronger than its official forces drags the country into wars its citizens did not choose.

That is why Hezbollah’s rejection of the agreement is so revealing. Hezbollah does not oppose it because it weakens Lebanon. It opposes it because it weakens Hezbollah. The logic is simple: Israeli withdrawal must be linked to the removal of the threat that forced Israel into Lebanon in the first place. Withdrawal while Hezbollah remains armed on the border would not be peace. It would be a countdown to the next war.

The agreement exposes two competing doctrines.

The first says that pacifying the Middle East requires defeating, isolating, and containing the Islamic Republic and the militias it has armed across the region. In Lebanon, this means disarming Hezbollah. In Gaza, it means ending Hamas rule. In Yemen, it means stopping the Houthis from threatening shipping. More broadly, it means restoring the monopoly of force to sovereign states.

The second doctrine says the opposite. It assumes that Iran and its clients are permanent features of the region and must therefore be accommodated. It treats Tehran as indispensable, Qatar as a useful channel to Islamist movements, and Israel as the party most easily pressured. Diplomacy, in this view, means managing radical actors rather than defeating them.

That approach has failed wherever it has been tried. In Lebanon, it produced a Hezbollah state within the state. In Gaza, it turned aid and reconstruction into instruments of war for Hamas. In Yemen, it enabled Houthi attacks on global trade. It confused de-escalation with stability and temporary quiet with peace.

Governments now have to choose. They cannot support Lebanese sovereignty while tolerating Hezbollah’s arsenal. They cannot defend international law while accepting that Iranian-backed militias decide when sovereign states go to war. They cannot claim to support stability while asking Israel to make concessions to the forces that made stability impossible.

French President Emmanuel Macron has chosen the second path. His Middle East diplomacy increasingly rests on the belief that stability can be achieved by engaging or rehabilitating actors that helped destabilize the region. The reported preparations for a presidential visit to Damascus, together with France’s growing convergence with Qatar’s regional diplomacy, illustrate that choice.

France is entitled to pursue its own policy. But it should be honest about its meaning. Pressuring Israel while rehabilitating Damascus and moving closer to Doha is not realism. It is appeasement.

The Lebanon agreement points toward a different path. It says that sovereignty matters; that militias cannot hold states hostage; that Israel’s security requirements are not obstacles to peace but preconditions for peace; and that the Iranian project can be rolled back when democratic governments and sovereign Arab states act with clarity.

This lesson matters beyond the Middle East. Countries dependent on Middle Eastern energy, open sea lanes, and freedom of navigation have a direct stake in whether the region is stabilized by restoring sovereignty or destabilized further by rewarding armed proxies. For Japan and other responsible democracies, this touches energy security, maritime order, and the credibility of rules against coercion.

Diplomacy works only when anchored in reality. And the reality is that the Islamic Republic and its proxies have been the main engines of war, terrorism, and fragmentation in the Middle East.

The Lebanon agreement will not implement itself. Hezbollah will resist it. Iran will try to sabotage it. Some governments will try to dilute it in the name of de-escalation. Others will argue that Israel must move first, withdraw first, concede first, and trust that its enemies will moderate later.

That logic has already been tried. It produced rockets, tunnels, militias, and war.

The alternative is to restore sovereignty, disarm militias, isolate the Islamic Republic, and make peace possible by removing the forces that make peace impossible.

That is the choice facing the Middle East. It is also the choice facing every government that claims to support peace in the region.

Speech delivered in Monaco on April 29, 2026, during the celebration of the 78th anniversary of Israel’s independence organized by the Monaco-Israel Friendship Association

I would like to speak this evening about a war that is widely misunderstood—because it is viewed from too close a distance.

Since October 7, 2023, people have been commenting on events, analyzing operations, reacting to images. But they forget to ask the essential question: where does this war come from?

The answer is clear.

The primary source of violence and instability in the Middle East today is the Islamic Republic of Iran.

For more than forty years, this regime has pursued a structured project: to eliminate the State of Israel and to impose a regional domination based on a radical Shiite religious ideology.

To understand this project, one must take its ideological foundation seriously.

The doctrine of the Twelfth Imam—the Mahdi—is central.

According to this belief, his return will inaugurate an era of universal Islamic domination.

In this perspective, chaos is not an accident. It is seen as a catalyst.

And the elimination of Israel is conceived as a step toward that end.

This vision does not remain at the level of ideas. It translates into strategy.

Iran has built a network of militias and armed groups: Hezbollah in Lebanon, Shiite militias in Iraq, the Houthis in Yemen, Hamas and Islamic Jihad in Gaza.

It finances them, arms them, trains them, and coordinates them.

It is developing long-range ballistic missiles, drones, cyberattack capabilities, and pursuing a military nuclear program.

And in some cases, it exercises direct control over states. Lebanon is the most obvious example. In Iraq, this influence is deeply embedded in the security apparatus and in political life.

What Iran calls the “axis of resistance” is in reality an axis of aggression.

A system of encirclement that we in Israel call the “ring of fire.”

And this ring does not target Israel alone.

The Iranian regime is part of a broader vision, influenced in particular by the ideology of the Muslim Brotherhood: the idea that the disappearance of Israel would be a step toward a broader victory of political Islam over the West, including in its Christian dimension.

Israel is the immediate target. But it is also a frontline.

In this context, one must be very clear on a key legal point.

Israel’s military actions against Iran and its regional militias fall under the right of self-defense, as recognized by Article 51 of the United Nations Charter.

This right is not limited to responding to an ongoing invasion.

It applies in the face of a continuous, structured, cumulative threat.

State practice shows that a country does not have to wait to be struck in a decisive way when it is confronted with a persistent and organized threat.

Israel faces repeated attacks, military encirclement, and a declared intention of destruction.

Under these conditions, claiming that its actions would be illegal is legally false.

The question, therefore, is not whether Israel has the right to defend itself. It does.

The real question is whether democratic countries choose to recognize this reality—or to ignore it.

Western governments must decide: confront the Iranian threat—or attempt to appease it.

Supporting Israel and the United States does not mean agreeing with everything. It means recognizing the nature of the conflict and taking a stand on a matter of principle.

On this point, many European governments have failed.

Under the pressure of internal politics: migration, the importation of Middle Eastern conflicts into public debate, and electoral calculations.

But also under the effect of a systematic campaign to delegitimize Israel.

This campaign is largely financed by Qatar, amplified by social media, and aims to isolate Israel, to normalize hatred against it, and to deny its right to defend itself.

And it has direct consequences: by demonizing Israel, it legitimizes hatred of Jews and puts Jewish communities in Europe and in America at risk.

The facts are documented.

The Wall Street Journal revealed that the former prosecutor of the International Criminal Court, Karim Khan, had been activated and supported by Qatar in his actions targeting Israel.

At the same time, Qatar supported South Africa’s initiative before the International Court of Justice accusing Israel of genocide—even as the South African president supported Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, accused of war crimes and genocide in Sudan.

And today, it must be said plainly: Israel is accused—wrongly—of genocide.

This is a grave accusation. And it is a reversal of reality.

This extremely serious accusation is used as a political weapon.

Genocide is a crime defined precisely in international law. It requires the intent to destroy a group as such.

That intent does not exist on Israel’s side.

It does exist, however, explicitly on the side of Hamas, Hezbollah, and the Iranian regime, which openly call for Israel’s destruction.

Accusing Israel of genocide while it is fighting organizations that themselves claim genocidal intent is a reversal of reality.

And it is a deliberate reversal that forms part of a strategy of delegitimization.

This is exactly what Natan Sharansky described as the “three Ds.”

Delegitimization—denying Israel’s right to exist.
Demonization—portraying Israel as inherently criminal.
Double standards—judging Israel according to criteria not applied to any other state.

When these three elements are present, one is no longer in the realm of criticism. One is in the realm of defamation.

If one wishes to assess the conduct of a war seriously, one must look at the facts.

The work of John Spencer—former officer in the U.S. Army, director of the Urban Warfare Program at the Modern War Institute at West Point, and one of the most recognized experts in the world in this field—is particularly illuminating.

Spencer shows that in NATO operations against the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria, the ratios between combatants and civilians killed are comparable—and often less favorable—than those observed in Israel’s war against Hamas.

He notes that in intense urban warfare, a ratio of 1 combatant to 9 civilians can be considered, tragically, unavoidable.

According to his analyses, the ratios observed in Gaza are below that threshold.

And above all, he emphasizes that no Western army has faced a comparable situation: extreme density, systematic use of human shields, and a tunnel network extending hundreds of kilometers.

These elements do not make war less tragic. But they show that the accusations made against Israel ignore both the reality on the ground and the fact that this war is conducted within the framework of international law.

In this context, some Western analyses are mistaken.

A recent article in The Economist claims that Israel has abandoned its traditional doctrine of short, decisive wars, that it has become entangled in open-ended conflicts without a clear political outcome, and that it now depends on the United States to bring them to an end.

This reading is mistaken. It describes the symptoms, but it confuses symptoms with the cause. Israel did not choose long wars. It was forced into them.

It realized that its traditional doctrine—deterrence, early warning, and decisive victory—was no longer sufficient in the face of a messianic and genocidal regime prepared to sacrifice entire populations, including its own.

The question, therefore, is not whether Israel “prefers” long wars. The question is whether a democracy can still rely on deterrence against an adversary that turns chaos, militias, tunnels, missiles, and nuclear ambitions into instruments of a strategy of annihilation.

Israel has therefore decided to dismantle the architecture of the threat—the “ring of fire.”

This is a strategic necessity.

And it implies a long war.

A war that requires time, consistency, and solidarity.

Yet this solidarity is insufficient.

It is insufficient in certain Western capitals.

To say, as Catherine Vautrin, France’s Minister of the Armed Forces, recently did, that “France cannot accept either Hezbollah or the IDF” is outrageous. This statement reflects a profound moral confusion: the inability to distinguish between a terrorist organization and the army of a democratic state that defends itself within the framework of international law.

To place on the same level those who deliberately target civilians and those who seek to protect them is not a position of balance. It is an error of judgment.

Western solidarity is also largely absent at the United Nations.

The United Nations was founded by democracies. It is now dominated by autocracies.

Russia—which invaded Ukraine—and China—which challenges the international order and threatens Taiwan—hold veto power. They support Iran.

The Human Rights Council includes among its members regimes such as Iran, China, Cuba, and Eritrea.

Mass violators of human rights sit in a body meant to defend them—and lecture democracies.

Under these conditions, demanding a Security Council resolution to act against Iran makes no sense.

Faced with these challenges, Israel acts.

In the Western world, its main allies are Washington and Berlin.

In Asia, Israel’s two major partners are Tokyo and New Delhi.

India is a leading strategic partner.

Japan is evolving rapidly.

And it is in this context that I will have the honor of serving as Israel’s next ambassador to Japan.

Israel is also developing a strategy that challenges certain assumptions.

The “Global South” is not a homogeneous bloc. It is a fiction.

Israel demonstrates this by developing strategic partnerships with countries such as India and Argentina.

And by taking bold diplomatic initiatives, such as recognizing Somaliland.

The Abraham Accords, for their part, have demonstrated their solidity.

The alignment between Israel and the Gulf monarchies is holding.

Normalization with Saudi Arabia is a realistic prospect.

And this opens the way to concrete projects.

For example, a pipeline project linking the Gulf to the Mediterranean via Israel and Saudi Arabia, in order to reduce dependence on the Strait of Hormuz and limit the risks of energy blackmail.

Israel is also playing a growing role in critical minerals—essential for defense technologies, semiconductors, and the industries of the future.

And Israel is a key actor in the IMEC corridor—India–Middle East–Europe—designed as an alternative to China’s Belt and Road Initiative.

It is a strategic project, supported by the United States and its partners. And Israel occupies a central position within it.

Beyond these strategic considerations, allow me to take a step back before concluding.

In 1942, Stefan Zweig, an Austrian Jewish writer among the most famous of his time, took his own life in Brazil.

He had lost faith in the future.

He believed the world he had known would not survive.

Others before him saw the danger coming—but made a different choice.

Theodor Herzl, at the end of the nineteenth century, understood that Jews could not simply hope.

They had to act.

It was this choice—action rather than resignation—that made possible the rebirth of Israel.

And it is this choice that still obliges us today.

In Israel, we carry on our shoulders more than 3,500 years of history.

This implies a responsibility: to be worthy of that heritage.

Thirty-three years ago, I made aliyah—that is, I chose to leave my country of birth and settle in Israel to take part in building the Jewish state.

I did not know what the future would hold.

But I knew that this was where I had to be.

Today, I have the honor of serving my country—and soon as Israel’s ambassador to Japan.

It is a privilege.

But above all, it is a responsibility.

Because what we defend goes beyond our individual trajectories.

And what we defend goes beyond the Middle East.

What we defend is part of a broader confrontation between the United States and China, between two visions of the international order.

In this confrontation, Iran is not an isolated actor.

It is aligned with Russia and China, which support it politically, economically, and militarily.

Hence the importance of positions and principles.

Every state has a voice, regardless of its size.

And on matters of principle, it is courage and moral clarity that count.

Because at the end of the day, what is at stake is the defense of the free world.

Israel’s decision to resume land registration in Judea and Samaria is not annexation or a breach of international law, but a lawful administrative measure to restore equality, transparency, and order after years of Palestinian Authority violations ignored by the international community.

The international outcry that followed Israel’s recent decision to resume land registration procedures in Judea and Samaria is a case study in selective outrage. Foreign media outlets and diplomats rushed to label the decision a “gross violation of international law,” even as they ignored the facts on the ground and the legal reality of what Israel actually approved.

The decision in question is not a political move, a sovereignty declaration, or an annexation by stealth. It is an administrative measure in civil and property law, designed to restore transparency, equality, and legal order in a domain that has long been distorted by discrimination, secrecy, and systematic violations of binding agreements. The real question, therefore, is not why Israel acted now, but why the international community has tolerated years of unilateral and illegal actions by the Palestinian Authority without consequence.

For years, the Palestinian Authority has openly violated its commitments under the agreements governing Judea and Samaria, particularly in Area C. It is currently advancing illegal land registration procedures there, in direct breach of existing accords, while promoting a campaign of unilateral land seizure that undermines any possibility of orderly governance. No sovereign state would accept such conduct on territory whose status is subject to negotiation. Yet when Israel responds by enforcing order and legality, it is accused of provocation.

At the core of the controversy lies a legal distortion inherited from Jordanian rule. Under Jordanian law, land ownership and acquisition in Judea and Samaria were governed by discriminatory provisions that barred Jews and, in fact, anyone who was not Arab, including Americans and Europeans, from purchasing property. This regime was compounded by the confidentiality of land registries, which concealed ownership, enabled fraud, and entrenched ethnic exclusion. Israel’s decision corrects that distortion. It establishes equality in real estate acquisition, removes secrecy from the land registry, and enables transparent procedures to clarify ownership and resolve disputes. In any other country, abolishing a racially discriminatory legal framework would be praised as a step toward justice. In Israel’s case, it is condemned.

The hypocrisy becomes impossible to ignore when one considers the identity of Israel’s loudest accuser. The Palestinian Authority, which has led the diplomatic assault against the Cabinet’s decision, maintains the death penalty for Palestinians who sell land to Jews. This is not a rhetorical exaggeration; it is codified policy. Individuals have been imprisoned, tortured, and in some cases killed for engaging in what would be a routine private transaction anywhere else in the world. Yet the same international actors who accuse Israel of violating human rights remain silent in the face of a system that criminalizes land sales to Jews.

The decision also cannot be separated from the broader pattern of Palestinian Authority violations on the ground. These include systematic destruction of Jewish holy and archaeological sites, widespread illegal construction, environmental hazards such as waste dumping and water diversion, and the erasure of historical heritage. Much of this activity takes place in clear violation of existing agreements and, in a bitter irony, is often funded by the European Union, whose officials simultaneously profess unwavering commitment to those same agreements.

Claims that Israel’s decision alters sovereignty or endangers a “sensitive status quo” collapse under scrutiny. No change in territorial status has been declared, and no political boundary has been redrawn. What has been approved is a legal mechanism to bring order to land registration, prevent unilateral faits accomplis, and restore the rule of law. Land registration is not annexation; it is the foundation of lawful governance. Transparency protects rights. Ambiguity enables coercion.

Warnings from Brussels about risks to religious sites ring hollow when Jewish holy sites are being bulldozed, desecrated, torched, and erased, from Joshua’s Altar on Mount Ebal to repeated attacks on Joseph’s Tomb. These are documented facts, not theoretical concerns. The true threat to the status quo is not legal transparency, but systematic lawlessness rewarded by international silence.

What ultimately undermines international law is not Israel’s insistence on equality, transparency, and compliance with agreements. It is the refusal to hold the Palestinian Authority accountable while condemning Israel for responding to sustained violations. Agreements cannot bind only one side. Law cannot apply selectively. Equality cannot be delegitimized when it benefits Jews.

If restoring equality before the law and enforcing transparent land registration are branded violations, then the problem lies not with Israel, but with an international system that has lost the ability to distinguish between law and politics, equality and discrimination, enforcement and aggression.

Today (December 14, 2025), representatives of the Kabyle people are expected to proclaim the independence of Kabylia, a mountainous region in northern Algeria. Kabylia is home to around 3.5 million inhabitants, with its own language, culture, and historical identity. The declaration, taking place in Paris, will be largely symbolic: Kabylia does not control territory, and no major power has endorsed its claim.

Yet symbolism matters.

The Kabyle people are part of the Amazigh (Berber) civilization, indigenous to North Africa long before the Arab-Muslim conquests of the seventh century. Like the Jews, they possess a distinct language, collective memory, and continuous attachment to their ancestral land. And like the Jews, they have long struggled against Arab conquest and Muslim imperialism.

What makes Kabylia’s case stand out today is its method. The independence movement, led by the Movement for the Self-Determination of Kabylia (MAK) and its government-in-exile, explicitly rejects violence. It advances its claims through political organization, international law, and appeals to democratic norms, not through terrorism or armed struggle.

In a world where violence often attracts attention and legitimacy, this distinction should matter.

From a narrow diplomatic perspective, Israel has little to lose. Algeria is already among Israel’s most hostile adversaries and maintains no diplomatic relations with it. Silence brings Israel no benefit.

From a strategic standpoint, however, Kabylia fits within Israel’s historic periphery strategy: the idea that Israel should cultivate ties with non-Arab, non-Islamist peoples on the margins of the Middle East and North Africa who share an interest in pluralism, secular governance, and resistance to authoritarian Arab nationalism and political Islam. This logic once guided Israel’s engagement with Kurds, Maronites, and others. Kabylia belongs in that same category. Ignoring it out of reflexive caution reflects not realism, but strategic inertia.

There is also a political reality Israel should acknowledge. Ferhat Mehenni, the president of Kabylia’s government-in-exile, has repeatedly and publicly expressed support for Israel, including at moments when doing so carried real personal and political risk. Such clarity is rare in North Africa. Israel often laments the absence of voices in the region willing to defend its legitimacy openly. When such a voice exists, it should at least be recognized.

Kabylia also exposes a broader double-standard in international politics. The same international community that overwhelmingly supports Palestinian statehood despite the Palestinians’ weak historical case, lack of political cohesion, and longstanding use and glorification of terrorism, largely ignores the Kabyles. The contrast is stark. The Palestinians are rewarded diplomatically despite decades of violence. The Kabyles are sidelined despite pursuing their aspirations through peaceful, legal, and democratic means. Israel, more than most countries, understands how damaging this inversion of norms has been.

Israel’s response to Kabylia must take regional dynamics into account, particularly Morocco, with which Israel enjoys a special and growing relationship. Morocco does not officially support Kabylia’s independence, nor has it recognized any Kabyle political entity. Like most states, Rabat formally upholds the principle of territorial integrity.

At the same time, Morocco has deliberately raised the Kabyle issue in international forums as part of its rivalry with Algeria, especially in response to Algeria’s support for the Polisario Front in Western Sahara. By highlighting Kabylie, Morocco has sought to expose what it sees as Algeria’s double standards: supporting separatism abroad while suppressing it at home.

This position is best understood as strategic signaling, not endorsement. For Israel, that distinction matters. A carefully framed Israeli stance, grounded in principles, not recognition, would not contradict Morocco’s position and should be coordinated with Rabat, not avoided altogether.

Leadership does not require Israel to recognize Kabylia today. International stability and alliances matter. But leadership does require moral clarity.

The UN Security Council has now endorsed President Donald Trump’s 20-point plan for Gaza, granting international legitimacy to a cease-fire architecture designed in Washington. The resolution, adopted with 13 votes in favor and only Russia and China abstaining, authorizes an International Stabilization Force in Gaza and lays out a conditional roadmap toward Palestinian self-determination.

This is an unfamiliar diplomatic moment for Israel: The United Nations is not condemning Israel but rather backing a US-led plan that includes demilitarizing Hamas, reconstructing Gaza under international oversight, and preventing a return to the status quo ante. At first glance, this looks like a strategic win. But the fine print matters, and so does the regional context.

Russia and China did not veto the resolution. Instead, they abstained, warning against what they described as “complete control” over Gaza being placed under a US-dominated structure, with insufficient transparency and unclear UN oversight. Their message is clear: they will tolerate this arrangement for now, but they remain wary of Washington consolidating authority in the Middle East. Their abstention avoids alienating Arab partners while preserving leverage over future phases of the process.

For Israel, the demilitarization mandate is substantial. Since 2005, every attempt to improve life in Gaza has collapsed on the anvil of Hamas’s military buildup. The new International Stabilization Force is explicitly tasked with dismantling that threat, not merely containing it.
If this is done thoroughly, Israel’s southern border could finally gain durable security without indefinite IDF control over two million Gazans.

Yet embedded within the resolution is language that could eventually constrain Israel’s strategic freedom of action: a “pathway” toward Palestinian statehood is indeed conditional, but it is now anchored in a binding Security Council resolution. Israel has always insisted that territorial and political arrangements must follow rather than precede ironclad security guarantees. That conditionality must now be defended at every stage.

Israel will also need to guard against mission creep. The “Board of Peace” steering governance in Gaza with the US at the helm could evolve into a body claiming authority over key security prerogatives. Israel must ensure the ISF operates as a partner, not a replacement for Israeli defense planning.

The regional chessboard is shifting as well. On the eve of the resolution, Trump announced his intention to approve the sale of advanced F-35 stealth fighters to Saudi Arabia. If tied to normalization, this could reshape Middle Eastern security in ways Israel has dreamed of for decades. But if handed to Riyadh with no strategic quid pro quo, it risks eroding Israel’s qualitative military edge, the bedrock of its deterrence.

That is the real test ahead: ensuring the Gaza track and the Saudi track reinforce each other, rather than creating new vulnerabilities. Washington would like to see Israel accept a more formal political horizon for the Palestinians in exchange for deeper regional integration.

So what should Israel do?

First, make demilitarization non-negotiable and front-loaded. No reconstruction funds before every tunnel and every launcher is dismantled.

Second, insist on operational coordination with the ISF at all levels: intelligence, border control, and rules of engagement.

Third, tie any progress on the political track for Palestinians to explicit and verifiable benchmarks, not vague promises of “readiness.”

Finally, press the US to synchronize regional diplomacy: Israeli-Saudi normalization must not be delayed until the final stage. It should be the engine and not the reward of this new architecture.

The UNSC’s endorsement of the Trump plan constitutes a mixed blessing at best. Israel should be proactive to make sure that Resolution 2803 leads to a safer Gaza border and to a stronger regional coalition.