សង្គ្រាមគ្មានទីបញ្ចប់របស់អ៊ីស្រាអែល៖ អន្ទាក់ស្លាប់របស់ភូមិសាស្ត្រ

 Israel’s geography and regional threats condemn it to an unending cycle of conflict, where short-term triumphs give rise to long-term vulnerability and insecurity.

Israel’s ongoing war across multiple fronts in the Middle East is not simply the result of a leader’s personal beliefs or a reaction to a single attack. It is the product of hard realities that have shaped Israeli strategy since the state’s founding.

Israel’s size, geography, and hostile neighbors mean it cannot afford to sit back and allow threats to grow. Instead, it must act preemptively, projecting force outward to prevent enemies from building enough strength to endanger its survival. This is why Israel frames the current conflict not as a localized fight with Hamas in Gaza but as a “multi-front war” against a network of enemies stretching from Gaza and Lebanon to Syria, Iraq, Yemen, and Iran.

To understand Israel’s actions, one must look beyond day-to-day politics and consider the deeper logic of power and geography that drives them.

Israel’s situation is defined above all by its geography. It is a small country, narrow in width, with its population and economic centers crowded close to its borders. Major cities like Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, and Haifa lie within easy missile range of neighboring territories.

To the north, Hezbollah is entrenched in southern Lebanon with a vast arsenal of rockets that could overwhelm Israel’s defenses.

To the west, Gaza borders directly on Israel’s urban heartland.

Syria looms to the north from the heights of the Golan.

Iran, though farther away, maintains networks of armed groups throughout the region.

Taken together, these threats form a ring around Israel. From a strategic point of view, Israel cannot treat them as isolated dangers. If they were to act in coordination, they could severely weaken or even destroy the state. This is why Israel insists on describing them collectively as an “Iran-led axis.” By uniting them under one label, Israel justifies acting against each of them wherever they are, portraying every strike as part of a single existential struggle.

Religion plays a role in this picture, but not in the way it often appears. Prime Minister Netanyahu and members of the religious Zionist right speak of historic mission, divine promise, and even messianic destiny. This rhetoric adds passion and conviction, rallying domestic support and providing ideological justification for costly wars.

Yet beneath the religious language lies geography once again. Israel’s lack of strategic depth makes static defense impossible. Creating buffer zones and controlling key terrain are not matters of ideology but of survival. The religious narrative helps legitimize this constant state of outward pressure, but it is geography—not theology—that drives Israel into perpetual conflict.

The reliance on force over trust is another defining feature of Israel’s approach. In theory, alliances and peace treaties could provide security. In practice, Israel assumes that in an unstable region, goodwill cannot be trusted and agreements cannot be guaranteed.

States act according to their interests, and interests change. For this reason, Israel prefers to enforce compliance through deterrence—that is, through fear of its military reach—rather than through cooperation based on mutual benefit. Syria offers a clear example.

Even as the Syrian government is weakened by civil war and makes overtures toward Israel, Tel Aviv continues to bomb Syrian territory and maintain its occupation of Syrian land. From Israel’s perspective, no amount of conciliatory rhetoric can erase the fact that Syria controls strategically vital territory. The only way to ensure security, therefore, is to keep Syria destabilized and incapable of regaining strength.

The same logic explains Israel’s strike on Qatar. Qatar is a close partner of the United States, formally designated as a “Major Non-NATO Ally” and home to Al-Udeid Air Base, the headquarters of U.S. Central Command. Yet Israel still struck Qatari territory, targeting Hamas’s political leadership. This action served two purposes.

First, it told Hamas leaders that they could not find safety anywhere in the world.

Second, it warned other regional states, even those aligned with Washington, that American protection would not shield them if they crossed Israeli interests.

In blunt terms, Israel was saying that treaties and alliances mean nothing in the face of hard power; only compliance with Tel Aviv’s dictates can provide security.

Despite its aggressive posture, Israel has struggled to achieve lasting results.

It has inflicted heavy damage on Hamas in Gaza, yet the group remains active.

It has weakened Hezbollah but has not eliminated its missile capabilities.

Iran continues to support its proxy network while deepening ties with Russia and China.

The Houthis continue to back the Palestinian cause, despite their troubles.

None of Israel’s adversaries has been decisively neutralized. This reflects a deeper structural problem: geography and terrain give these groups resilience.

Gaza’s density makes it nearly impossible to pacify without extreme measures.

Lebanon’s mountains provide natural shelter for guerrilla forces.

Iran’s sheer size and remoteness make subjugation unrealistic.

Yemen’s rugged geography and the Houthis’ “control” of the Bab el-Mandeb give the group significant influence.

In each case, Israel can deliver tactical blows, but it cannot reshape the underlying conditions that allow resistance to survive.

The costs of this approach are mounting.

In the region, Israel risks destabilizing its peace treaties with Egypt and Jordan, both essential to its security.

At home, prolonged war strains resources, divides society, and tests the limits of national unity.

Internationally, the devastation in Gaza has eroded sympathy for Israel, shifting global opinion in ways that directly affect its strategic position.

Polls show declining support among Europeans and younger Americans, while recognition of Palestinian statehood has grown significantly. Nearly three-quarters of UN member states now recognize Palestine, and Western powers such as France, the UK, and Canada are considering doing the same.

This trend weakens Israel’s diplomatic backing and creates a growing counterweight to its military dominance. In practical terms, this means that while Israel may win battles, it is losing ground in the larger contest of legitimacy and international support.

The shift in Israel’s military doctrine since October 7 must be understood in this context.

For decades, Israel relied on the doctrine developed by its first Prime Minister, David Ben Gurion: short, decisive wars fought with overwhelming force, designed to end conflicts quickly before they drained the country’s limited resources or drew in outside powers.

That strategy worked against conventional armies, as in 1967 and 1973. But it no longer works against irregular forces embedded in urban areas, mountains, or networks supported by Iran.

Israel has therefore adopted a new approach: accepting prolonged wars, higher casualties, and indefinite campaigns of attrition.

On the surface, this seems like necessary adaptation. But it also reveals the risks of overextension.

Israel is a small state with limited population and resources.

Protracted wars drain its society and economy more severely than they do its adversaries, who are often willing to absorb higher losses and continue fighting.

By abandoning Ben Gurion’s doctrine, Israel may be setting itself on a path of wars it can neither win quickly nor sustain indefinitely.

Every move Israel makes has a

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