Administrations Change, but the Consequences of Misjudging an Enemy Endures
President Trump claims that Prime Minister Netanyahu supports the proposed nuclear agreement with Iran. “Bibi is OK with it,” he said. “Why is it good for Bibi? Iran cannot have a nuclear weapon under any circumstance.”
That is reassuring, so long as Donald Trump is the one enforcing the agreement.
The real question is not what happens in 2026. The real question is what happens in 2028, 2032, or beyond, when a new sheriff arrives in Washington who may not share Trump’s determination to prevent Iran from acquiring a nuclear weapon. Agreements do not enforce themselves. Treaties, memoranda, and diplomatic assurances are only as durable as the leaders willing to uphold them. Administrations change. Priorities shift. Political winds reverse direction.
We Jews have seen this movie before.
Recall the biblical account of Joseph. Sold into slavery by his brothers, falsely imprisoned, and ultimately elevated by Pharaoh, Joseph became the second most powerful man in Egypt. Entrusted with Pharaoh’s signet ring and vast authority over the kingdom’s affairs, Joseph’s wisdom saved Egypt from catastrophe. Through careful planning and extraordinary foresight, he guided the nation through seven years of famine and transformed Egypt into the dominant power of the ancient world.
For a time, the Children of Israel prospered. They lived under the protection of a ruler who appreciated Joseph’s contributions and understood the value of his alliance.
Then history took a familiar turn.
The Book of Exodus records one of the most chilling political observations ever written:
“Now there arose a new king over Egypt, who knew not Joseph.”
The verse does not mean Pharaoh suffered from historical amnesia. He knew exactly who Joseph was. What changed was not his memory, but his interests. He chose not to recognize the debt Egypt owed Joseph. He no longer valued the alliance, respected the past, or honored the commitments of his predecessor. What had once been gratitude became indifference. What had once been partnership became suspicion. What had once been protection became persecution.
The result was slavery.
The lesson is as relevant today as it was three thousand years ago: political gratitude has the shelf life of milk.
Today, an American president may pledge unwavering opposition to a nuclear Iran. Tomorrow, another president may conclude that enforcement is too costly, confrontation too risky, or accommodation too convenient. One administration may impose crippling consequences for violations. The next may look the other way. What one leader builds, another can dismantle with the stroke of a pen.
That is why Israel can never base its survival solely on the promises of foreign leaders, no matter how sincere, supportive, or friendly they may be. Friends come and go. Governments rise and fall. Election results alter national priorities overnight. Israel’s security must rest first and foremost on Israel’s ability to defend itself, by itself.
That is why many Israelis view long-term agreements with Iran through a different lens than Washington does. They are not evaluating the deal based solely on who occupies the White House today. They are asking a far more important question:
Who will be sitting there tomorrow?
History teaches that today’s ally can become tomorrow’s indifferent observer. Today’s guarantees can become tomorrow’s forgotten commitments. Today’s “never” can become tomorrow’s “maybe.”
In the Middle East, where survival often depends on remembering lessons others prefer to forget, there is one truth that remains constant: interests change, leaders change, administrations change, but the consequences of misjudging a determined enemy endure forever.
