The Zionist project relies on the successful and continued use of force: Thriving settlement in Israel is not possible without Israel having greater military power than the Arab countries surrounding it. The growing economy, thriving liberal culture and leisure, vibrant civil society, developed world of yeshivot, and more, persist only because we are more powerful than our enemies in battle.

This is a trivial and obvious statement, generally forgotten during regular times, that is only appreciated anew during times of war. In both cases, however, this reality is not pleasant. Many shy away from associating Zionism and the use of force; it is a sentiment which shapes public discourse and ultimately damages public policy.

There are many factors contributing to the general recoil from the use of extensive military force over an extended period: First, there is the intolerable price of war; in war, soldiers are killed, the family of the bereaved expands, people pay a price of body and mind, and general welfare suffers from difficult economic circumstances. Wars create suffering, agony, pain, and misery.

Second, the use of force is seen as the antithesis of liberalism and does not fit in with a rights discourse, or with our Western sensitivities. Liberalism places rationalism at its center, as opposed to: Power, free markets, spoils, cooperation for common benefits, conflict, concrete interests, and national pride or glory.

Third, the use of force is seen as going against a certain Platonic ideal of Judaism; This ideal emphasizes the “morality of the prophets,” and at its center is the aspiration to be a “light unto the nations,” and to advance “Tikkun Olam”: Global repair. This ideal seeks to highlight Jewish uniqueness in the realms of culture and ethics, rather than in the battlefield.

Fourth, the use of force is seen as neither a just nor effective way to shape the best political reality. According to this line of thought, wars only serve to groom the next generation of revenge seekers: Violence begets violence, not peace. Wars deter stable diplomatic arrangements; they do not bring them closer.

Fifth, there is a lack of hope. Those who criticize the repeated use of military force do not believe in the possibility of a clear victory (“You Cannot Defeat an Idea”) and shudder at the idea that we be a “modern Sparta”; “Will the sword consume us forever?” Who has not encountered this question – asked by those who desire a new, calmer Middle East?

In the end, there is a concern that violence directed outwards will necessarily be accompanied by violence directed inwards. Power, according to this line of thought, corrupts.

These reasons for recoiling from the use of military force, as understandable and justifiable as they may be, bring about disastrous results: They are blind to the basic facts of the human condition and to the Middle Eastern context in which we live.

First, wars are the consistent rule of history, not the exception to the rule. As historians Will and Ariel Durant note: “War is one of the constant factors in history, and it has not been reduced by civilization or democracy. In the 3,421 years of recorded history, there were only 268 years without war. […] Peace is an unstable balance, that can only be maintained by a recognition of superiority or by creating a balance of powers.”[1]

Second, the hesitation to use force invites aggression in the international sphere. Weak nations are destined to perish before stronger nations that are willing to use their capacities for evil. A current example of this is Israel’s hesitation in the face of Hamas’s and Hezbollah’s building of power until it was forced to attack in worse conditions – only after the surprise attack against it.

Third, effective and calculated use of military force can create new diplomatic opportunities that would not develop without it. A current example: The destruction of Hamas’s and Hezbollah’s operational capacities can further positive diplomatic developments. The likelihood of good relations with the Palestinians has grown, not diminished, as a result of the destruction of Hamas and its leaders. The likelihood of a Lebanon free of poisonous Iranian proxies grew, as opposed to diminish, as a result of the hits that Hezbollah has suffered. What is most important, on both fronts, is that time be given for the military operation to achieve its goals.

Finally, the best qualities of civilization, including those of liberalism, rely on the willingness and the ability to stand against the enemies of culture, and to repel them when needed. Since Zionism depends on superiority in power, it would be foolish to reject power – regardless of the conditions. Zionism is a force for good in the Middle East and the world; therefore, the power that supports it is also good.

Realism in the field of international relations is not only the most correct approach towards understanding our chaotic world order; it is also the most moral of all alternatives. Rejecting power plays into the hands of aggressors; ignoring the importance of power ultimately leads to more difficult and drawn out conflicts; recognizing that a free world order, and especially the existence of a free Jewish state, relies on the willingness to use military force for an extended period could help prevent future wars. One of Niccolo Machiavelli’s principal propositions for the prince who desires to maintain his state is not to dedicate his time “to any craft other than war, its rules and teachings,” for the main reason that a prince loses his state is by “neglecting this craft.”[2] We do not need to fully adopt this advice in order to recognize its truth: What was true for princes in the 16^th century is no less true for democracies today, in the 21^st.

Main photo via Wikimedia Commons

[1] Will and Ariel Durant, The Lessons of History, Simon and Schuster 1968.

[2] Niccolo Machiavelli, The Prince.