Why principled partnerships matter more than performative diplomacy
It is good to know which side of one’s bread is buttered. The older I get, the less cynical that phrase sounds and the more accurate it becomes. In a Europe currently gripped by moral theatrics, diplomatic hedging, and fashionable outrage over Israel, a few countries have quietly chosen something far less glamorous—but far more consequential: strategic clarity.
Greece is one of them.
At a moment when much of Europe engages Israel with a long pole—issuing condemnations, suspending cooperation, or offering lectures from the comfort of distance—Athens has done something refreshingly unfashionable. It has acted in its own long-term national interest, and in doing so, deepened a friendship with Israel that is yielding tangible dividends.
I find this reassuring. Not because Israel needs validation from Europe—it has long learned to survive without applause—but because genuine partnerships, built on shared threats, shared values, and shared capabilities, still matter in a world increasingly addicted to symbolism over substance.
The recent trilateral summit between Israel, Greece, and Cyprus should be understood in this light. It was not merely another diplomatic photo opportunity. It was the visible expression of a relationship that has been maturing quietly and deliberately for more than a decade. What we are witnessing is not sudden alignment, but the culmination of converging strategic realities in a volatile Eastern Mediterranean.
For Greece, the calculus is straightforward. Turkey’s expanding military posture, its assertive maritime doctrine, and its increasingly erratic regional behaviour are not abstract concerns debated in policy seminars. They are lived realities across the Aegean and beyond. Deterrence, in this context, is not optional; it is existential.
Israel understands this instinctively. We too live in a neighbourhood where wishful thinking is a luxury and preparedness is a necessity. This is where the relationship becomes more than rhetorical. Israel does not merely offer solidarity; it offers capability.
Greek defence modernisation today is difficult to imagine without Israeli technology. From advanced drone systems and precision artillery to air and missile defence architectures informed by Israel’s layered approach, Athens has found in Israel a partner forged in operational reality rather than theoretical doctrine. Israeli defence firms are not exporting catalogue products; they are embedding hard-earned battlefield knowledge into Greece’s security architecture.
This is what real partnership looks like.
It also explains why discussions around deeper coordination—whether in rapid-response frameworks or joint contingency planning—carry weight even before they fully materialise. Coordination itself is a signal. It communicates that deterrence is collective and that aggression will not be cost-free.
Predictably, not everyone welcomes this alignment.
Turkey, observing this partnership solidify, has made its displeasure known. Commentators warn of encirclement and accuse Israel of destabilisation. The irony is difficult to miss. Ankara’s own actions—militarisation, maritime brinkmanship, inflammatory rhetoric—are precisely what pushed Greece and Cyprus to seek deeper cooperation with Israel in the first place.
Cause, meet effect.
What strikes me most, however, is the contrast between Greece’s clarity and the hypocrisy of some of Israel’s louder European critics. The same governments that denounce Israel in international forums quietly rely on Israeli intelligence, Israeli cyber expertise, Israeli innovation, and Israeli deterrence models. They benefit from Israeli stability while scolding Israeli self-defence. Greece, to its credit, has chosen honesty over duplicity.
This is not blind allegiance. Athens does not agree with Israel on everything, nor should it. But friendship is not about uniformity of opinion; it is about reliability when it counts. Under pressure, Greece has resisted the performative pile-on. Instead, it has doubled down on cooperation—across defence, energy, innovation, tourism, and emergency response.
Energy cooperation tells a particularly instructive story. While grand pipeline visions have faded, quieter and more practical initiatives—electricity interconnectors, grid integration, regional energy resilience—continue to bind Israel to Europe through Greece and Cyprus. These projects may lack drama, but they are the infrastructure of long-term stability.
Even on Gaza, Greece has demonstrated a maturity absent in much of Europe. Rather than indulging in maximalist slogans, Athens has signalled a willingness to contribute constructively to the “day after,” potentially through engineering or logistical support within an agreed international framework. For Israel, the question is not only who helps rebuild, but how and under what mandate. Trust, here, is earned slowly—and Greece understands that.
For Israel, Greece offers something invaluable: strategic depth without moral posturing. For Greece, Israel offers something equally vital: proven resilience, cutting-edge defence innovation, and a partner that understands what it means to live under constant threat.
This is where the broader theme emerges.
Israel’s story in recent years has been one of resilience and renewal. We absorb blows, mourn our losses, and then rebuild—stronger, smarter, and more determined. We innovate not because it is fashionable, but because survival demands it. That same instinct now shapes Israel’s regional partnerships. We are not retreating into isolation; we are refining our alliances.
Greece has recognised this—and chosen wisely.
While others issue statements, Greece studies systems. While others posture, Greece prepares. That is not cynicism. It is statecraft.
The quiet truth Europe often avoids is this: the future belongs to countries that align values with capabilities. Israel is not merely a country defending itself; it is a country innovating the future of security, energy, and resilience under pressure. Those who engage with that reality gain far more than those who boycott it.
In time, today’s moral grandstanders may rediscover pragmatism. They usually do. When they do, Israel will still be here—building, innovating, defending. Greece will be there too, better prepared and better positioned because it chose partnership over pretence.
Friendship, after all, is not measured in press releases.
It is measured in trust, capability, and the courage to stand together when it is easier not to.
Greece understood that. And Israel will not forget it.
- James Ogunleye, PhD, is the founder and editor of RenewingIsrael.org.