Standfirst
In moments of profound national testing, public opinion is not merely a reaction—it is a reflection of memory, experience, and strategic clarity. Israel’s sustained support for the ongoing campaign against Iran reveals less about appetite for conflict and more about a deeply internalized understanding: that survival, once again, is not theoretical but immediate.
There are moments in the life of a nation when the distance between debate and decision collapses. When questions that, in other societies, might linger in the realm of politics or ideology become, instead, matters of collective instinct.
Israel lives in that space more often than most.
And so, when I observe the remarkably high level of public support for the ongoing United States–Israel military campaign against Iran – despite sirens, disrupted routines, and the continuing barrage of rockets from Hezbollah – I find myself neither surprised nor unsettled. On the contrary, I recognize something deeply familiar, almost inevitable.
The Israeli public, quite simply, gets it.
This understanding has not emerged overnight. It is not the product of a single speech, a single government, or even a single war. It is the accumulated wisdom of history – lived, endured, and remembered. From the earliest days of the state, Israelis have known that the question is rarely whether they desire peace. Of course they do. The more pressing question has always been whether peace is, at that moment, available to them.
And when it is not, survival takes precedence.
What strikes me most, as I reflect on recent reports, is not merely the scale of public support – though figures in the range of 80 percent and above are indeed striking. It is the steadiness of that support. It has not wavered significantly despite weeks of disruption: sleepless nights punctuated by sirens, children at home as schools close, families navigating a rhythm shaped by uncertainty.
In many societies, such conditions would erode public backing for a military campaign. Fatigue would set in. Doubt would grow louder. Political divisions would sharpen.
In Israel, something different happens.
There is, first, a shared recognition of the nature of the threat. Iran is not perceived as a distant or abstract adversary. It is understood, across much of Israeli society, as a central architect of a network of hostility – funding, arming, and directing proxies that sit on Israel’s borders. The rockets from Hezbollah are not separate from Tehran; they are part of the same strategic equation.
This clarity matters.
When a population understands the stakes in existential terms – not rhetorically, but viscerally – it recalibrates its expectations. The question shifts from “Is this comfortable?” to “Is this necessary?” And once that shift occurs, endurance becomes not only possible, but purposeful.
Second, there is the question of trust – imperfect, contested, but present where it matters most. Reports suggest that a significant majority of Israelis, across political divides, believe that the campaign is being conducted with security interests at the forefront. This does not mean there are no criticisms, no disagreements, no anxieties about leadership. Israel is, after all, a vibrant and often fiercely argumentative democracy.
But in this domain – national survival – there is a remarkable convergence.
Even critics, it seems, understand the necessity of action.
Third, and perhaps most intriguingly, there is what some observers have described as the paradox of a “war in relative safety.” This is not to minimize the real human cost – lives lost, injuries sustained, the psychological toll of constant alerts. These are real, and they are deeply felt.
Yet, compared to the scale of the threat being addressed, many Israelis perceive that they are being shielded – by the extraordinary capabilities of the Israel Defense Forces, by the precision of the Air Force, and by the coordination with the United States.
Daily life, while disrupted, continues. Shops remain stocked. Public transport operates. Hospitals function. There is a sense – fragile but significant – that the state is holding.
And this, too, shapes public perception.
It allows Israelis to sustain support not because the war is easy, but because the burden, though real, is understood as proportionate to the necessity. It reinforces the belief that the country is not merely reacting, but acting strategically – shaping conditions that may, in time, reduce the frequency and intensity of such conflicts.
This is where the deeper theme begins to emerge: resilience and renewal.
Israel’s resilience is often spoken of in terms of endurance – its ability to absorb shocks, to continue functioning under pressure. But resilience, in the Israeli context, is also adaptive. It learns. It evolves. It incorporates lessons from one conflict into the next.
The current campaign reflects that evolution. It is not only about responding to immediate threats but about systematically degrading the infrastructure – military, logistical, ideological – that sustains those threats. Reports of targeted strikes against key figures, disruption of command structures, and the dismantling of capabilities point to a long-term logic.
This is not war for its own sake. It is war as a reluctant instrument of strategic necessity.
And within that necessity lies the possibility – however distant – of renewal.
Renewal does not arrive in the midst of sirens. It does not announce itself in the headlines of conflict. It is quieter, more gradual. It is found in the rebuilding of communities, in the strengthening of institutions, in the continued investment in innovation – even during times of war.
Indeed, one of the most remarkable aspects of Israeli society is precisely this: its refusal to suspend its future while defending its present.
Even now, amid a multifront conflict, Israel continues to think forward – to educate, to innovate, to build. This is not a contradiction. It is a strategy. It is, in many ways, the essence of innovating the future of Israel.
Because survival alone is not enough.
A nation must also ask: what kind of future are we securing?
The Israeli public, in its steady support for the current campaign, appears to understand this dual imperative. It is not cheering for war. It is acknowledging the absence of alternatives. It is supporting an effort that, in its view, seeks to create the conditions under which future generations might live with fewer sirens, fewer interruptions, fewer existential calculations.
This is why the support endures, even as the weeks stretch on.
It is also why I am not surprised.
There is, of course, an awareness that such support is not infinite. History suggests that prolonged conflicts test even the most resilient societies. Should casualties rise significantly, should the sense of safety erode, should external support falter—the calculus may shift.
Israelis are not indifferent to cost. They are acutely aware of it.
But they are equally aware of the cost of inaction.
And in that awareness lies the quiet, unspoken consensus that shapes public opinion today.
As I reflect on this moment, I find myself returning to a simple but profound observation: Israelis would prefer peace. They would prefer quiet nights, uninterrupted routines, the ordinary rhythms of life.
But they do not always have that choice.
And so, when faced with a reality in which the alternative to action is vulnerability—perhaps even destruction—they choose, collectively and consciously, to stand firm.
Not with triumphalism, but with clarity.
Not with despair, but with determination.
In that choice, I see not only resilience, but the seeds of renewal. A society that understands its challenges so deeply is also one that can, over time, transform them—building a future that is not defined solely by the threats it faces, but by the strength with which it responds.
And that, ultimately, is why the Israeli public gets it.
- James Ogunleye, PhD, is the founder and editor of RenewingIsrael.org.
- A similar version of this essay appears in Resilience & Renewal: The Future of Israel, available on Amazon.