The Wests proxy state is burning out

Israel has now been at war with its neighbours for nearly two years. The latest round began with the Hamas-led terrorist attack on 7 October 2023. In response, West Jerusalem launched an aggressive military campaign that has since expanded to touch nearly every country in the region. The escalation has placed the Jewish state at the centre of Middle Eastern geopolitics once again - this time, dragging in Iran, a state that had long avoided direct confrontation through strategic caution. Now, even Tehran finds itself under fire, with US backing making the stakes far higher. Iran is left facing a grim choice between the bad and the very bad.

But this isn't about Iran. It's about Israel, a country that has for decades functioned as the West's forward operating base in the Middle East. Since the mid-20th century, Israel has enjoyed a privileged position - a bridgehead of Western power in a volatile region, while also deeply enmeshed in its politics and rivalries. Its success has rested on two pillars: the unshakable support of the United States, and its own internal capacity for innovation, military strength, and a unique social model.

That second pillar, however, has weakened. The clearest sign is in demographics: Israel is facing rising negative migration. In 2024, some 82,700 people are expected to leave the country - a 50% increase from the year before. It is not the unskilled or disengaged who are leaving, but the young and educated. The people who are needed to sustain a modern state are choosing to go.

Of course, Israel's troubles are not unique. Like many developed nations, it is struggling under the weight of a decaying neoliberal economic system. The pandemic made things worse, exposing the fragility of the model and encouraging a shift toward a "mobilisation" mode of governance - rule through emergency and constant readiness for conflict. In the West more broadly, war and geopolitical confrontation have become a way to delay or disguise necessary systemic reform.

In this regard, Israel has become a laboratory for the West's emerging logic: permanent war as a method of governance. In the autumn of 2023, the Israeli establishment embraced this fully. Conflict became not just a tactic, but a way of life. Its leaders no longer see peace as the goal, but war as the mechanism for national unity and political survival. In this, Israel mirrors the broader Western embrace of conflict with Russia and China - proxy wars chosen when actual reform is off the table.

At the global level, nuclear deterrence limits how far such wars can go. But in the Middle East, where Israel wages war directly, those constraints don't apply. This allows war to serve as a pressure valve - politically useful, even as it becomes self-destructive.

But even war has limits. It cannot indefinitely mask economic decay or social unrest. And while conflict tends to cement elite power - even among incompetent leadership - it also drains national strength. Israel is now consuming more and more of its own resources to sustain this permanent state of war. Its social cohesion is fraying. Its once-vaunted model of technological and civic progress is no longer functioning as it did.

Some in West Jerusalem may dream of "reformatting" the Middle East - reshaping the region through force and fear. If successful, it could buy Israel a few decades of security and breathing room. But such outcomes are far from guaranteed. Crushing a neighbour doesn't eliminate the threat; it merely brings distant enemies closer. Most importantly, Israel's deepest problems aren't external - they are internal, rooted in its political and social structures.

War can define a state, yes. But such states - Sparta, North Korea - tend to be "peculiar," to put it mildly. And even for them, war cannot substitute for real diplomacy, policy, or growth.

So has Israel, always at war, truly developed? Or has it simply been sustained - politically, militarily, and financially - as a subdivision of American foreign policy? If it continues down this path of permanent conflict and right-wing nationalism, it risks losing even that status. It may cease to be the West's bridge in the Middle East - and become something else entirely: a militarised garrison state, isolated, brittle, and increasingly alone.

This article was first published by the magazineProfileand was translated and edited by the RT team.

(RT.com)