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On the Illusion of Power and the Disregard for Essence

  • Writer: Ayala Shalev
    Ayala Shalev
  • 12 hours ago
  • 5 min read

Updated: 47 minutes ago

All eyes are glued to the screens. The ritual is familiar, almost choreographed. An announcement of Khamenei’s "elimination", a strike on an Iranian target that sounds significant, or a military spokesperson reminding us yet again of the long arm of the IDF. Immediately, the generals unfold their maps, the pundits boast of our invincible strength, and the public, for the most part, celebrates. Even Pnina Rosenblum has already released a song.


The entire discourse is emotional, local, and perpetually self-justifying. "Aren’t you happy about this?" "This will finally bring us quiet!" "We’re going to save the Iranian people!" And so it goes. But after so many decades of bloody cycles, and especially after these last three years, this discourse has become so shallow and pathetic that it feels like an insult to one’s intelligence. It is a conversation that ignores all context, dismisses everything history has taught us, and reduces our existence here to a zero-sum game of fleeting emotions. It is as if we’re watching a soccer match rather than our own lives, while all the real, essential questions are pushed out of the frame.


The truth is that whether the assassination of an enemy leader is a cause for joy or not, is simply irrelevant. Above all, it is a distraction. What truly matters is not how we feel when an enemy disappears, but the broader consequences of such an action – what it does to our existential, and yes, our ethical foundation.


No one speaks of this. In our emotional public sphere, there is no mention of the fact that by adopting targeted assassination as a primary, legitimate tool of warfare, we aren't just removing a piece from the board; we are cementing a dangerous "boomerang of force." If we decide that killing a leader we dislike is legitimate because he is the "bad guy" in our eyes, we are effectively dismantling the moral and legal protections meant to safeguard any and all leaders, rendering them legitimate targets as well. Instead of upholding international "rule of law" as a red line or a defensive wall – however flawed it may be – we are helping to tear it down. Those who breach the dam of sovereignty and statehood in favor of targeted killings cannot be surprised when those norms return to haunt them. This isn't about being "bleeding hearts"; it’s a basic principle of conduct that every child in kindergarten understands: you cannot claim that what is permitted to you is forbidden to others.


What problem did this solve?


Essentially, Israeli policy over the last few decades has become a hostage to "tactics." We manage every incident on the ground, respond to every threat, and intercept every missile or drone – but we refuse to lift our gaze to the horizon. This isn't to say we shouldn't respond to threats; thank God for every intercepted missile that fails to hit a person. But I want to look beyond the immediate event. In practice, we have grown accustomed to thinking that violence is not a last resort, but our one and only mode of operation. We have narrowed our arsenal of responses to violence alone: against regional states; against Palestinians in Gaza, the West Bank, East Jerusalem, and within Israel; against protesters who don't align with the regime; against those who express independent opinions online; in our prisons...


Viewing violence as a universal solution is cowardly, foolish, and temporary. We are acting like the classroom bully whom no one likes, who fails to build real relationships, who always needs to stay alert, and who, eventually, will always fall. Just as during the horrific offensive in Gaza, now with Iran, no one seriously asks what this violence seeks to achieve, and more importantly, how. Yes, we hear talk of "regime change" because the leader was a dictator, but coming from those responsible for the destruction of Gaza, this rings hollow. The fundamental question remains: what is the plan for the day after, and how do we get there?


We must remember – as terrible as it sounds – that going to war, bombing, and assassinating is "easy," especially when you, the "leader", do not pay the price. Ultimately, it requires money, vast sums of it, to develop physical tools of destruction and social tools of "education" to create a consensus around our lowest, most primal common denominators. For years we have been heading into battle, and nothing truly changes, not in substance, only in body count.


And what about sitting down to talk? Creating arrangements? Recognizing that others also have rights, needs, and a right to exist? That requires real courage. It requires the ability to hold complexity, to set aside national ego, and to invest the same massive resources we spend on "how to get rid of them" into building the mechanism of "how to live with them." Where is that part? Today’s Israel is neck-deep in "managing" the conflict on its various levels, trying to erase anyone who doesn't fall in line. The logic seems to be: "if we only use enough force, millions of people will simply vanish into thin air." But this is not a policy; it is a denial of reality that exacts a massive toll on us. Like that classroom bully, it cannot last forever. Its very existence paves the way for a painful downfall from which we may not be able to recover.


What is required is a fundamental shift – in will, in intent, in thought, and in perception – to forge a different path. As long as we are only busy fighting, we are merely treading water at best, building a future of "living by the sword," just as the Prime Minister once promised, as if there were no other choice. But there is a choice. We must remember that. We have simply never tried it; we always dismiss it in advance.


and this?


When we lift our eyes from the tactics, we see, time and again, that every assassination and every act of aggression is not a finish line, but the starting point of a new, more violent story. Every child growing up in the West Bank, the Jordan Valley, or Gaza, under indiscriminate destruction, dispossession, and the denial of basic rights will not grow up to be "deterred"; they will grow up "hateful" or "enraged." A policy of violence does not clear the ground; it sows the seeds of the next calamity. It sanctifies the present at the expense of the future, abandoning values of democracy and justice for the sake of a fleeting, illusory quiet.


The time has come to stop obsessing over "who was eliminated" and start asking "who will lead us away from this perpetual violence?" Stop thinking "that’s just life" and start wondering "how do we want to live?" Stop surrendering to "it is what it is" and choose those who ask "how do we make a change?"


We must stop being bystanders to endless military punditry and begin to understand that the situation we have lived in for years is a leadership choice, not an act of fate. Only after we have exhausted every process of settlement, of agreements and accords, of creating a future of hope for all who live here, of – yes, I’ll say it – peace; only then, after dedicating resources, effort, time, and thought, can we perhaps begin to speak of aggression and violence, and even then, only when there is a clear political objective behind it.


Real security will not come from the next interception or the elimination of this or that leader. It will come from our ability to create a reality that is good for everyone, not just for us at the expense of others. It is time to invest in peace with the same creativity, determination, and budgets that we invest in war. Because ultimately, if we do not learn to manage our reality through alliances, agreements, and pacts, the power we rely on so heavily may be the very thing that buries us. Or, in the words of the Book of Proverbs: "For riches are not forever."

Ayala Shalev is the editor of That's About Us.


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