Earlier this week, the last living American hostage, Edan Alexander, was released from Hamas captivity.
This development was significant not only because it marked a rare positive moment in an otherwise bleak and stagnant landscape since Israel broke the ceasefire and hostage deal in March.
Since then, the only "advancements" have been intensified ground operations, the continued blockade of food and aid into Gaza by Israel, and an overwhelming sense of helplessness shared by both Israelis and Palestinians, equally frustrated by their leadership and powerless under rising authoritarianism.
Alexander’s release stood out for another reason: it was achieved without Israeli involvement. The negotiation was carried out directly between the U.S. and Hamas, bypassing Israel entirely, a dramatic departure from longstanding U.S. policy, which has historically avoided direct talks with the group. This alone signals a seismic shift.
The symbolism here cuts to the core of Zionist ideology and the founding promise of Israel. The State of Israel was meant to be a sanctuary for Jews, a shield against persecution when no one else would stand with us, not only to offer refuge, but to ensure that Jewish lives could be defended by Jews, in a sovereign state.
Yet, Alexander’s release revealed a painful irony: it was not the Jewish state that saved him, but his American passport. An American serving in the IDF who risked his life for the Jewish state was ultimately rescued not by that state, but by the one he was born into. That fact should give both Israelis and diaspora Jews pause.
Israel’s promise to its citizens is not merely the basic protection expected from any nation, it is existential, foundational. It is its raison d’être. And yet, in this moment, that promise rang hollow.
Meanwhile, this development unfolded against the backdrop of Donald Trump’s visit to the Middle East, notably skipping Israel, and instead focusing on Gulf states. True to form, Trump was unpredictable: accepting a private jet from Qatar, pledging to lift sanctions on Syria, and denouncing past U.S. foreign policy "interventionalists" and "neocons" while in Saudi Arabia, thereby distancing himself even from previous Republican administrations.
The pro-Israel right found itself in disarray. Many assumed Trump would continue to cater to Netanyahu’s government and his extremist coalition partners. But Trump’s message was clear: he doesn’t care about Israel, nor, for that matter, about the Gulf. Trump cares about Trump.
The progressive left, however, was also confounded. For years, the left has criticized U.S. interventions designed to impose American-style democracy abroad, often causing long-term instability. Now, Trump’s snub of Israel, including Netanyahu’s humiliating trip to Washington last month with nothing to show for it, seemed like the bold disengagement many hoped Biden would pursue before this war spiralled into mass death, destruction, and starvation.
But this is no cause for celebration. Trump’s foreign policy is not grounded in values. Not in justice, peace, or human rights. His isolationist pivot does not stem from concern for Palestinians or democratic integrity; it stems from a disdain for the liberal world order and an embrace of transactional politics, where loyalty goes to the highest bidder.
This isn’t principled non-intervention, it’s the resurrection of imperialism, of "might makes right," of alliances with strongmen and autocrats. His past flirtations with annexing Greenland and Canada have not been abandoned or sidelined, but the opposite - he is showing us exactly how little he cares about borders, international law, and self-determination, now in both word and deed.
In Trump’s world order, preference is not given to those with whom there are shared values but rather, to the highest bidder. And in that world, Israeli leadership, long accustomed to special treatment, may find itself dangerously outmatched.
The pro-Israel right must rethink what it means to be a true "friend of Israel." If they have the ear of Netanyahu and his allies more than those of us who have long argued that being a "friend of Israel" does not mean blind loyalty, they must now use that influence and confront the reality: blind loyalty has not protected Israel. It has isolated it and imperilled its future.
Progressives, too, must tread carefully. Applauding Trump’s moves simply because they undermine Netanyahu is short-sighted. These shifts also undermine democratic norms, multilateralism, and the international order that supports self-determination - not just for Israelis, but for Palestinians as well.
As some look to Trump’s unpredictability as a potential shortcut to ending the war in Gaza, they must not lose sight of the broader picture. The occupied West Bank is literally and figuratively on fire. The IDF and settlers act with impunity. U.S. sanctions on violent settlers have been revoked, emboldening an already aggressive movement.
At the same time, the Palestinian Authority is increasingly marginalized. Even as Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas appeared via video at a joint Israeli-Palestinian peace rally, committing to non-violence and a two-state solution between the river and the sea, U.S. negotiations are being held with Hamas - a move that weakens the PA further and signals a return to the dangerous "status quo" that helped lead to October 7.
Now, with the U.S. reshuffling its alliances, the stakes are rising, not just for Palestinians, but for Israel’s long-term security as well.
If there is a lesson in all of this, it is that isolation, whether self-imposed or externally reinforced, is not a strategy, it's a warning. Am levadad yishkon - a nation that dwells alone - was never meant to be aspirational.
In today’s world of volatile alliances and transactional politics, Israel’s refusal to adapt, reflect, or engage meaningfully is not resilience. It is recklessness. The hubris that led to October 7 is not a closed chapter, it is a trajectory. And without course correction, it points toward something far more catastrophic.
This is not just a political failure. It is a failure of Zionism itself. A Jewish state that cannot safeguard its citizens, that alienates allies, that abandons democratic principles and moral clarity, is not fulfilling its founding promise; it is betraying it.
The critique of the Netanyahu government is no longer the domain of dissenters or diaspora activists. It is the most urgent existential reckoning the state has faced. To defend Israel, one must now challenge the very government that claims to act in its name.