Israel can strike farther from its borders than it could before October 7. Yet Iran remains unresolved, Gaza has no settled political end-state, and a new Israeli doctrine of forward defence may create security problems of its own.
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| Israel enters 2026 with greater military reach and stronger defensive capabilities, yet unresolved threats from Iran, Gaza, Lebanon, and Syria continue to test its long-term security. |
By Munaeem Jamal
Originally published August 7, 2023. Substantially updated August 23, 2026.
I wrote this page before October 7. It reads differently now
I reopened this article in Karachi three years after I first published it. The old version, written on August 7, 2023, described Hezbollah on Israel's northern border and Iran's nuclear programme as major threats. It also treated Israel's technological superiority and military strength as important measures of its security.
Exactly two months later, Hamas attacked southern Israel on October 7, killing about 1,200 people and taking 251 hostages. The attack did more than start a devastating war in Gaza. It exposed a weakness that military rankings could not measure: a powerful state had failed to understand what an adversary immediately across its border intended to do.
The hostage chapter eventually moved toward closure. A ceasefire in October 2025 secured the release of the last living Israeli hostages, while Israel recovered the body of the final remaining hostage in January 2026. Yet the security question did not disappear with their return because the strategic conditions that produced October 7 never reduced themselves to the hostage crisis.
My reading of the evidence in August 2026 is therefore more cautious than the title of my original article allowed. Israel is militarily stronger in several important respects, but I am not convinced that Israelis now inhabit a safer strategic environment. The distinction between strength and security has become the central issue.
October 7 changed the meaning of Israeli military strength
Before October 7, Israeli policy often rested on a workable but dangerous assumption. Israel did not have to destroy every hostile organisation if intelligence and deterrence could keep the threat below an acceptable threshold. Hamas could govern Gaza, in this view, provided Israel could monitor it and punish serious violations.
October 7 demolished confidence in that formula. Surveillance technology could observe much of Gaza, while the Israeli military possessed overwhelming conventional superiority, but neither advantage prevented strategic surprise. I now see the intelligence failure as part of a larger conceptual failure: Israeli planners had capabilities that Hamas could see, yet they misread the intentions they could not.
Israel's political and military leadership has responded by pushing security outward. Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said in July that the Gaza security envelope now lies inside Gaza, while Israel's corresponding defensive space in the north lies inside Lebanon. He called the shift a move toward initiative and attack rather than containment.
The change sounds logical after October 7. If a threat cannot safely remain on the other side of a fence, move the defensive line farther away. The problem appears a few kilometres later, because every buffer zone outside Israel's recognised borders creates another space that Israeli forces must patrol, dominate from the air or prevent an adversary from re-entering.
Israel has a new security doctrine, but not everyone agrees that it is a strategy
I would hesitate to call Netanyahu's approach a settled national-security doctrine. On August 18, the Institute for National Security Studies published a sharp critique by former Knesset member Ofer Shelah, who argued that Israel has never possessed a national-security strategy in the full institutional sense: written, formally approved by the political leadership and made public. What Israel has today, he argues, is a security concept taking shape through military action and political rhetoric.
That distinction matters. A military can create buffer zones and conduct preventive strikes without answering the larger question of what political condition those operations are supposed to produce. INSS warns that a strategy built around permanent prevention could stretch the military while imposing costs on Israel's economy and social cohesion.
I find the disagreement more revealing than Netanyahu's declaration alone. Israel clearly changed how it uses military force after October 7, yet part of its own strategic community questions whether continuous forward defence can serve as national security rather than become permanent war. The argument is no longer about whether Israel should act before an enemy attacks; it is about how far prevention can expand before the method begins consuming the security it was designed to protect.
That tension also explains why crude military rankings now tell me almost nothing useful about Israel. A table can count aircraft or tanks. It cannot tell me how long a citizen army can sustain open-ended deployment beyond several borders.
Iran remains the strategic problem Israel has not settled
Iran now sits much closer to the centre of Israel's security calculations than it did when I wrote the original page. Israel and the United States launched major attacks against Iran in February 2026, and the confrontation continued through subsequent exchanges before a ceasefire in April. Israel struck Iran again in June after renewed missile fire, showing how quickly an apparently closed round could reopen.
The fighting demonstrated formidable Israeli reach, but I read the aftermath less triumphantly. Israel's Ministry of Defense approved another major acceleration of Arrow interceptor production in April, explicitly linking the expansion to ballistic threats from Iran and its proxies. An August test of the Arrow system showed that the defence establishment continues preparing for evolving regional threats rather than treating the Iranian missile problem as solved.
Israeli public opinion reflects that uncertainty. In an INSS survey conducted in June, 42 percent rated Israel's national-security situation bad or very bad, compared with only 20 percent who rated it good or very good. More strikingly, 68 percent expected Israel would need to renew hostilities against Iran within a year.
Those numbers cannot tell me who would win another military exchange. They tell me something more relevant to this article: much of the Israeli public does not interpret the existing military outcome as a permanent strategic settlement. A campaign can destroy infrastructure and still leave the underlying contest alive.
I have written separately about how Israeli intelligence penetrated Iranian systems and what those breaches reveal about institutional vulnerability inside Iran. Mossad Infiltration in Iran: How Sanctions Weakened Tehran's Security That intelligence advantage strengthens Israel, but intelligence superiority does not remove Iran's capacity to rebuild or retaliate.
Gaza and Lebanon reveal the cost of pushing the perimeter outward
Gaza demonstrates the difference between reducing a military threat and creating a political end-state. The October 2025 ceasefire ended the main phase of the two-year war, but it did not produce agreement over Hamas's disarmament or Israel's final withdrawal. By August 2026, Israel still controlled roughly two-thirds of Gaza, while negotiations remained stuck over the sequence in which Hamas should surrender weapons and Israeli forces should leave.
Washington has tried to move the process through an international stabilisation force and a new Palestinian administrative structure. The United States committed more than $206 million in August toward the proposed force, yet the political mechanism remains stalled because Israel and Hamas disagree over the conditions needed to advance it. Israeli attacks have also continued despite the ceasefire.
From a narrow military perspective, Israel has pushed the immediate Gaza threat farther from the communities attacked in 2023. I cannot turn that into a claim of durable security while the territory lacks an agreed political order capable of replacing repeated Israeli intervention. A buffer line may prevent infiltration today while leaving the state responsible for enforcing that line tomorrow.
Lebanon presents a related problem. Israel has linked withdrawal from parts of southern Lebanon to the disarmament of Hezbollah and other non-state armed groups, while Hezbollah rejects disarmament under continuing Israeli military presence. Even the mechanism for verifying Lebanese disarmament remains under dispute.
The Israeli public appears unconvinced that the northern problem has ended. In June, 81 percent of respondents in the INSS national-security survey said the existing situation did not provide adequate safety for residents of northern Israel. I find that figure more useful than any claim of battlefield victory, because citizens eventually judge security by whether returning home becomes ordinary again.
Syria has added Turkey to an already crowded security map
Syria has changed in a way that I could not have included in the August 2023 version. Bashar al-Assad's government fell in 2024, and Turkey expanded its influence with the new Syrian leadership. Israel, meanwhile, has tried to prevent military deployments or capabilities in Syria that it considers dangerous.
The collision became visible on August 18, 2026, when Israeli aircraft struck the Abu al-Duhur airbase in northwestern Syria. Israel said Syria stood close to violating an agreed security status quo by allowing Turkish troops to deploy there, while Turkey condemned the attack and did not confirm Israel's account. The strikes damaged the runway and storage facilities without reported casualties.
Two days after the strike, I wrote about the deeper Israel-Turkey contest developing around Syria. Israel’s Syria Strikes Are Testing Erdoğan’s Regional Ambition What concerns me is not an inevitable Israeli-Turkish war, because the evidence does not justify that claim; the danger lies in overlapping military red lines between two capable states operating around the same Syrian space.
The latest dispute has already tested coordination with Washington. U.S. envoy Tom Barrack said Israel had not warned the United States before the Abu al-Duhur strike and warned about escalation with Turkey, while Israeli Defence Minister Israel Katz disputed the account and said intelligence had reached U.S. authorities. That contradiction itself says something about the density of the new security environment.
Israel's internal resilience has become part of the battlefield calculation
National security does not stop at a country's frontier. The occupied West Bank has grown more unstable during 2026, and the United Nations warned this month that the territory had reached a "breaking point." By August 10, the UN had documented more than 1,430 incidents of settler violence during the year, while military operations and Palestinian attacks continued.
I include the West Bank because deterioration there consumes security resources even when it does not resemble conventional war. A weakening political order creates more points at which soldiers or police must intervene. Expansion of settlements and increasing settler violence add pressure to an environment already carrying the consequences of prolonged conflict.
Manpower creates another constraint. Fewer than one in ten eligible ultra-Orthodox men currently enlist in the Israeli military, according to an Associated Press review published in August, while the burden of repeated mobilisation has increased since October 7. The argument over Haredi service therefore no longer sits comfortably inside religion or coalition politics; prolonged forward defence turns it into a question about who supplies the soldiers needed to sustain the doctrine.
I do not place an internal dispute on the same scale as an Iranian ballistic missile. The comparison would be false. Yet a missile tests Israel's interceptor network for minutes, while a prolonged conflict tests whether the society financing that network can keep supplying soldiers year after year.
Israel is stronger. The security perimeter keeps moving
If I answer the question in the title today, I arrive at a less reassuring conclusion than I did in August 2023. Israel has demonstrated extraordinary military reach, and its missile-defence network continues to evolve after direct confrontation with Iran. Its forces also operate beyond the lines that Israeli planners once treated as the immediate defensive perimeter.
Military success has not produced a settled map. Iran remains capable of forcing another strategic confrontation, while Gaza still lacks an accepted political end-state. In Lebanon, the argument over Hezbollah's weapons and Israeli withdrawal turns the border into a conditional arrangement rather than a normal frontier.
Syria adds a different complication because Turkey is a state power rather than an armed proxy. Inside Israel, repeated mobilisation and the argument over military service place their own limits on how long an expansive doctrine can operate. I therefore no longer see national security as a simple balance between the strength of the IDF and the capabilities of Israel's enemies.
Reading my old article taught me something I missed in 2023. I had treated security as a catalogue of threats followed by a catalogue of Israeli capabilities, as though enough strength on one side of the ledger would answer the question.
October 7 destroyed that neat arithmetic. Israel can now strike much farther from its homes than it could before the attack, and its leaders increasingly believe that keeping danger away requires pushing the defensive perimeter outward. I am still left with the question that military power alone cannot answer: how far can that perimeter move before Israel has to defend the perimeter itself?

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