The View from Under the Bus
A few weeks ago, many Israelis were feeling rather pleased with themselves.
Iran had taken a pounding. The United States and Israel appeared to be operating in lockstep. President Trump was speaking the language Israelis like to hear: strength, deterrence, consequences and partnership.
The message seemed straightforward.
Iran had overplayed its hand.
The West had finally rediscovered its backbone.
Israel and America were standing shoulder to shoulder.
Then came the deal.
Now, before anyone writes to explain that diplomacy is complicated, I know diplomacy is complicated. If it were simple, we would have replaced diplomats with WhatsApp groups years ago.
Nevertheless, many Israelis are currently staring at the latest developments and wondering whether they have somehow missed a chapter.
The story appeared to begin with “We are defeating Iran together.”
It seems to have ended with “Let’s negotiate with Iran.”
The transition was so abrupt that a significant portion of the Israeli public is still experiencing diplomatic whiplash.
According to Reuters, the interim agreement between Washington and Tehran includes sanctions relief, access to frozen funds and a framework for further negotiations, while the United States argues that the arrangement prevents Iran from obtaining nuclear weapons and opens the door to broader regional stability.
To Israelis who have spent decades being told that Iran is an existential threat, this feels a little like discovering that after helping your neighbour catch a burglar, he has invited the burglar in for coffee to discuss future security arrangements.
The concern is not merely emotional.
Israeli officials have openly expressed anxiety that the agreement could strengthen Iran economically while allowing it to recover from a conflict that many Israelis believed was intended to weaken it for the long term. Reuters reports that concern within Israel extends from government officials to ordinary citizens who fear the deal may leave Iran stronger than expected once the dust settles.
What makes the situation particularly disorientating is that President Trump has not merely signed a deal.
He has repeatedly criticized Israeli actions that he believes endangered the negotiations. He reportedly pressed Israel to halt military action, warned Prime Minister Netanyahu against escalating the conflict and has become increasingly vocal about his desire to end the fighting.
This has left Israelis confronting an uncomfortable truth.
American interests and Israeli interests overlap.
They are not identical.
They have never been identical.
Israel’s objective has largely been to neutralize Iran as a long-term strategic threat.
America’s objective appears increasingly focused on ending the war, reopening shipping routes, stabilizing oil markets and preventing a broader regional conflict.
Those goals are not necessarily contradictory.
They are simply not the same.
The problem is that Israelis are uniquely sensitive to this distinction.
History has given us trust issues.
That is perhaps the most Jewish sentence ever written.
For two thousand years, Jews have repeatedly discovered that being somebody’s ally and being somebody’s priority are entirely different things.
We remember the promises.
We remember the guarantees.
We remember the moments when the international community assured us that everything would be fine right up until it wasn’t.
As a result, Israelis have developed a national reflex that can best be summarized as: “Thank you for your support. We will nevertheless continue checking the exits.”
This does not mean Trump has “thrown Israel under the bus.”
That phrase may be emotionally satisfying, but it assumes facts not yet in evidence.
If the agreement genuinely constrains Iran’s nuclear ambitions, limits its missile program, restrains Hezbollah and prevents a wider war, then Trump will argue that he achieved exactly what he set out to achieve.
If, however, Iran uses sanctions relief, investment and diplomatic breathing room to rebuild its economy, strengthen its proxies and resume its old behavior, then history may judge the agreement rather differently. Critics inside both Israel and the United States are already making precisely that argument.
At the moment, nobody knows which version of the future we are living in.
What we do know is that many Israelis suddenly feel less like partners and more like passengers.
We helped push the bus uphill.
We helped pay for the fuel.
We were assured we were sitting in the front seat.
Then we looked up and discovered we were having a surprisingly intimate view of the undercarriage.
Perhaps that assessment is unfair.
Perhaps six months from now, this agreement will look brilliant.
Perhaps six months from now, it will look catastrophic.
The Middle East has a remarkable ability to make fools of prophets, analysts and journalists alike.
For now, Israelis are left with a question that is as old as Zionism itself:
If the people driving the bus suddenly decide to change direction, are we passengers, partners or pedestrians?
The answer matters.
Because Jewish history suggests that whenever we become too comfortable riding on somebody else’s bus, we eventually discover why we built our own.
