The Volatility Paradox

Conventional wisdom holds that Benjamin Netanyahu should feel most comfortable when Republicans occupy the White House and most constrained when Democrats do. For decades, observers have assumed that the Israeli right enjoys a natural affinity with Republican administrations, while Democratic presidents represent a more difficult and demanding interlocutor.

Yet this familiar narrative obscures a deeper paradox. Netanyahu has often appeared more willing to challenge Barack Obama and Joe Biden publicly than he has been Donald Trump. The reason lies not in ideological proximity but in differing conceptions of power, loyalty, and predictability.

The paradox is simple: a predictable critic may be easier to manage than an unpredictable friend.

Throughout his political career, Netanyahu has demonstrated a remarkable ability to navigate relationships with American presidents. He has often disagreed sharply with Democratic administrations over settlements, Iran, Palestinian statehood, and the conduct of military operations. These disagreements were frequently public and occasionally acrimonious.

The most striking example occurred in March 2015, when Netanyahu bypassed the Obama administration and accepted an invitation from Republican Speaker of the House John Boehner to address a joint session of Congress without prior consultation with the White House. The speech constituted an extraordinary breach of diplomatic protocol. Traditionally, foreign leaders coordinate such visits with the sitting administration, especially when addressing Congress on matters central to American foreign policy. Netanyahu’s decision was widely perceived as a direct challenge to President Barack Obama and an unprecedented intervention in a contentious domestic policy debate.

The purpose of the speech was to mobilise congressional and public opposition to the emerging Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA), the nuclear agreement being negotiated between Iran and the P5+1 powers. Obama viewed the agreement as the cornerstone of his Middle East strategy. His administration argued that the JCPOA would significantly restrict Iran’s nuclear program, subject it to intrusive international inspections, and substantially lengthen the time required for Tehran to develop a nuclear weapon. For Obama, diplomacy offered the best available mechanism for preventing nuclear proliferation while avoiding another costly military conflict in the Middle East.

Netanyahu saw the agreement very differently. He believed that the JCPOA would not eliminate Iran’s nuclear ambitions but merely postpone them. In his speech, he warned that the proposed deal would leave Iran with substantial nuclear infrastructure intact, provide sanctions relief worth billions of dollars, and ultimately pave the way for Iran to become a threshold nuclear power. He described the agreement as “a very bad deal” and argued that it threatened not only Israel’s security but also regional and international stability.

The episode revealed Netanyahu’s confidence that, despite the public confrontation, the strategic foundations of the U.S.-Israel relationship would remain intact. Military aid, intelligence cooperation, diplomatic coordination, and broader security commitments continued despite the dispute. Netanyahu calculated that he could challenge Obama’s signature foreign-policy initiative without jeopardising the alliance itself because he understood the depth of institutional support for Israel within the American political system.

Similarly, during Joe Biden’s presidency, Netanyahu repeatedly resisted American pressure regarding settlement expansion, judicial reform, humanitarian access to Gaza, and postwar planning. At various moments, tensions between Jerusalem and Washington became highly visible.

One major source of friction concerned settlement policy in the West Bank. The Biden administration consistently reaffirmed its support for a two-state solution and repeatedly criticised Israeli settlement expansion. Senior American officials warned that continued settlement growth undermined the prospects for a negotiated peace and complicated efforts to stabilise relations with the Palestinians and key Arab partners. Nevertheless, Netanyahu’s coalition, heavily dependent on nationalist and religious parties committed to expanding the settlement enterprise, continued to advance policies that Washington opposed.

A second point of contention emerged in 2023 over the government’s proposed judicial overhaul. Biden administration officials expressed growing concern that the reforms would weaken judicial independence and erode institutional checks and balances. President Biden publicly urged compromise and consensus, warning that democratic resilience depended upon strong institutions and broad public legitimacy. Yet Netanyahu continued to advance the reforms despite unprecedented domestic protests and mounting international criticism.

The most serious disagreements arose following the Hamas attacks of October 7, 2023, and the ensuing war in Gaza. While the Biden administration provided Israel with extensive military, diplomatic, and intelligence support, it simultaneously sought to influence the conduct of military operations. American officials repeatedly urged Israel to facilitate greater humanitarian access, increase the flow of essential supplies, and minimise civilian casualties. Washington also expressed concern about major military operations in densely populated urban areas, particularly Rafah. Netanyahu frequently resisted these pressures, arguing that defeating Hamas required operational freedom and sustained military pressure.

The disagreements extended beyond the battlefield to the question of Gaza’s future. The Biden administration advocated a comprehensive postwar framework linking reconstruction, regional diplomacy, and eventual Palestinian self-governance. Netanyahu rejected many of these proposals, especially those involving a significant role for the Palestinian Authority or discussions of Palestinian statehood.

Yet despite these disputes, the strategic alliance remained remarkably robust. The United States continued to provide military assistance, diplomatic backing, intelligence cooperation, and support in international forums. Netanyahu understood that while Biden strongly disagreed with many Israeli policies, America’s institutional commitment to Israel’s security remained intact.

Donald Trump presents a fundamentally different challenge.

Trump’s support for Israel during his first term was unprecedented in several respects. His administration recognised Jerusalem as Israel’s capital, relocated the U.S. embassy, recognised Israeli sovereignty over the Golan Heights, withdrew from the Iran nuclear agreement, and brokered the Abraham Accords. Many Israelis viewed these measures as evidence of an exceptionally pro-Israel presidency.

Yet Trump’s approach to foreign policy differs profoundly from that of traditional Republican and Democratic administrations alike. He does not primarily view alliances as enduring strategic commitments rooted in shared values, institutional relationships, or long-term geopolitical objectives. Rather, he tends to approach international affairs through a highly personal and transactional lens.

This difference has become particularly important in the context of Iran. For years, Netanyahu argued that Iran represented the central strategic threat to Israel and the region. Trump largely embraced that assessment and adopted a far more confrontational posture toward Tehran than his predecessors. Yet confrontation with Iran carries risks that extend far beyond Israel’s immediate security concerns. Any sustained conflict threatens regional stability, global energy markets, international shipping routes, and broader American interests.

Trump’s political instincts favour decisive victories, dramatic announcements, and visible achievements. He has consistently expressed scepticism toward prolonged foreign entanglements and costly military commitments. To the extent that tensions with Iran create the prospect of an open-ended confrontation, they place him in a strategic position that conflicts with his broader political preferences.

This is precisely where uncertainty enters the equation. Under Obama or Biden, Netanyahu could reasonably anticipate the likely boundaries of disagreement. Under Trump, those boundaries are less clear. A policy strongly supported today may be reconsidered tomorrow. Personal relationships may influence strategic decisions. Longstanding assumptions may suddenly cease to apply.

For Netanyahu, this creates a different kind of risk. The challenge is not that Trump is less supportive of Israel than Democratic presidents. On many issues, the opposite has been true. The challenge is that Trump’s decision-making is considerably less predictable.

A predictable opponent allows for calculated risk. An unpredictable ally does not.

Netanyahu understands that the greatest danger in international politics is not necessarily hostility. Hostility can often be anticipated and managed. The greater danger is volatility. When the rules of engagement become unclear, even strong alliances become more difficult to navigate.

This is the volatility paradox at the heart of contemporary U.S.-Israel relations. Netanyahu may disagree more frequently with Democratic presidents, but he generally knows where they stand. Trump, by contrast, may offer greater support while simultaneously introducing greater uncertainty.

Ultimately, the Netanyahu endgame is defined by risk minimisation for personal and political survival. And in the theatre of global politics, a predictable adversary is always safer than an unstable, transactional friend. Netanyahu could stretch the rope with the Democrats because he knew they valued the rope itself. With Trump, Netanyahu keeps his hands steady, fearing the moment the rope finally snaps.