Israel's PR problem is completely overrated.

The Jewish state's relations in the Middle East matter far more than Western opinions and political persuasions.

photo: David Trinks/Unsplash

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For decades, an entire industry has grown around the idea that Israel has a public relations problem.

The argument goes like this: If only Israel could explain itself better — if only it could communicate its values, its history, and its moral dilemmas more effectively — the world would understand.

This idea even has a name: hasbara, derived from the Hebrew word for explanation.

But the truth is far less comforting. Hasbara is not a strategy. It is an emotional response, an industry of well-intentioned people who want others to love and appreciate Israel as much as they do. And that desire, while understandable, rests on a fundamental misunderstanding of history.

Much of the world’s hostility toward and uncertainty about Israel did not begin with Israel. It did not begin after the State of Israel’s creation in 1948. It did not begin after the 1967 Six-Day War, when Israel started becoming a regional superpower following years of fragility. And it did not begin with any particular government policy or military operation. The distrust and hatred directed toward the Jewish state are part of a much older pattern — one that existed for centuries before a modern Jewish state existed at all.

For two thousand years, Jews were accused of manipulating governments, poisoning wells, controlling money, betraying nations, corrupting society, and secretly running the world. Those myths did not disappear when Israel was created; they simply updated themselves. In previous eras, the accusation was that Jews controlled banks. Today the accusation is that Israel controls Washington, D.C. The language changes; the pattern does not.

If hostility toward Israel were truly about policy disagreements, then those disagreements would fluctuate with policy. Instead, the outrage remains constant. Israel withdraws from Gaza and is condemned. Israel responds to terrorism and is condemned. Israel proposes negotiations and is condemned. Israel accepts ceasefires and is condemned.

When the reaction is always the same, the explanation is not policy, but something much deeper. This is why the idea that Israel can solve its global reputation through better messaging is ultimately misguided. Nations are not judged only by their actions; they are judged by the myths people want to believe about them. And when those myths are rooted in centuries-old prejudice, no communications campaign can erase them.

The sooner Israel accepts this reality, the healthier its strategic thinking will become.

Israel does not need to be liked. Israel needs to be feared and respected.

History shows that the world rarely rewards nations for being liked. It rewards them for being strong, capable, and indispensable. The international system does not run on sentiment; it runs on power, interests, and deterrence. The countries that survive are the ones that make their survival non-negotiable. That is not cruelty; it is realism.

But this realism should extend beyond the battlefield to the diplomatic arena as well. Israel should stop measuring its success by the applause it receives in distant capitals and instead measure it by the stability and relationships it builds in its own region.

Israel lives in the Middle East, not on Instagram or in the halls of some “woke” Western institution. Its long-term stability will ultimately depend far more on its neighbors than on editorial boards in Europe or protest movements on American campuses.

The real strategic horizon for Israel is the Middle East itself, and that horizon is already shifting.

In recent years, Israel has quietly built relationships with countries across the region — some openly, others discreetly — based not on ideology but on shared interests: technology, security cooperation, intelligence, water, energy, and trade. These relationships are grounded in reality rather than rhetoric, because countries in the region understand something the West often forgets: Israel is not going anywhere. It is a permanent, powerful, technologically advanced state with one of the most capable militaries in the world. That reality commands respect.

If a future American administration decided to reduce or even end military support for Israel — perhaps under pressure from a more ideological or “progressive” political environment — the strategic vacuum would not remain empty for long. Regional actors like the United Arab Emirates, who already collaborate with Israel, would have powerful incentives to deepen those ties.

Countries across the Middle East understand the Israel that actually exists: a technologically advanced security partner, a hub of innovation, an investment opportunity, and a reliable ally against common threats. They judge Israel by its real-world capabilities, not by the political libels circulating in parts of the West. And, perhaps most importantly, they don’t want to get on Israel’s bad side, especially after watching the Israelis eliminate the heads of Hamas, Hezbollah, and the Islamic Republic of Iran during the last two and a half years.

When politicians such as California Governor Gavin Newsom, who hopes to be the next U.S. president in 2028, repeat libels like calling Israel an “apartheid state,” they are participating in a Western ideological debate that often bears little resemblance to the real-world calculations being made in the Middle East.

Governments in the region are not interested in propaganda; they are interested in stability, intelligence cooperation, military deterrence, water technology, agriculture, cybersecurity, and economic growth. They value the real Israel — the one that builds desalination plants, shares intelligence, develops missile defense systems, and pioneers breakthrough technologies. That is the Israel they work with and will continue deepening ties with.

Meanwhile, the Western conversation about Israel increasingly drifts into performative politics and moral theater. Universities debate boycotts. Activists chant slogans. Media outlets compete for outrage-driven headlines. But if Israelis find themselves unwelcome in certain Western institutions, that is not necessarily Israel’s loss. It will be the West’s.

Israelis are among the world’s most entrepreneurial, scientifically productive, and technologically innovative populations. Israeli companies pioneer breakthroughs in cybersecurity, artificial intelligence, medicine, agriculture, water technology, and defense systems. When Israeli researchers are pushed out of academic collaborations, when Israeli entrepreneurs are discouraged from global networks, when Israeli innovators are excluded from conferences or institutions, the damage is not confined to Israel; it is a real, lingering loss for the institutions that exclude them.

And if media outlets choose to disparage Israel for cheap clicks and advertising revenue, that says far more about the incentives of modern media than it does about Israel itself. The solution is not to beg for fair coverage; it is to withdraw attention. Clicks are currency. Eyeballs are power. If audiences reward media outlets that distort reality for profit, those distortions will continue. But if audiences stop rewarding them, the incentives change. Media consumers have more power than they often realize.

And while critics may declare that Israel is “isolated,” the global economy tells a very different story: Money talks. Year after year, foreign investment flowing into Israel sets new records. Venture capital pours into Israeli startups. Global corporations open research and development centers in Tel Aviv, Haifa, and Jerusalem. Israeli technology is exported across the world at increasing scale.

The modern global economy is ruthlessly pragmatic. Investors do not pour billions of dollars into countries they believe are collapsing or irrelevant; they invest where they see talent, innovation, and opportunity — and Israel has all three.

This economic reality also provides Israel with strategic leverage. If the day ever came when a major Western country seriously reconsidered its relationship with Israel, that relationship would not unravel in one direction alone. Israel possesses immense strategic assets: intelligence capabilities, military technology, cybersecurity expertise, energy resources, and a world-leading innovation ecosystem.

Partnerships with Israel are mutually beneficial. Any government that chose to weaken those partnerships would not simply be punishing Israel; it would also be weakening its own access to some of the most valuable capabilities in the modern world. Israel is not a small, helpless state pleading for protection; it is a regional power.

None of this means that Israel should ignore the Jewish world beyond its borders. Support from Jewish communities and Jews in the diaspora has always mattered to Israel and its future. The connection between Israel and Jewish communities abroad is not merely political; it is civilizational. Families span continents. Cultural, religious, and educational ties run deep.

Israelis want that connection. They value it. And ideally, that relationship should flow in both directions: diaspora Jews supporting Israel, and Israel strengthening Jewish life around the world.

But strategic clarity requires recognizing a basic hierarchy of priorities. Diaspora support is meaningful, emotional, and culturally important. Regional relationships, however, are existential. The countries that surround Israel — the states whose militaries, economies, and security interests intersect with it every day — ultimately matter more to Israel’s long-term stability than debates taking place thousands of miles away. That is simply the reality of geography.

And perhaps the most misunderstood aspect of Israeli society is how deeply Israelis themselves understand this. Despite the endless commentary about Israel’s global reputation, most Israelis do not spend their days worrying about what the world thinks about them. That is not arrogance; it is confidence.

Israeli identity is unusually strong by modern Western standards. The country is built on a shared civilizational story — a language revived, a homeland rebuilt, a people reassembled from exile, and a society that has fought repeatedly for its survival. That history creates a kind of internal grounding that many Western societies have gradually lost. In much of the West today, identity itself has become contested and fragile. People debate their own legitimacy. Cultural confidence has eroded. Historical narratives are constantly dismantled and rewritten.

Israel, by contrast, possesses a remarkably clear sense of who it is: the homeland of the Jewish People, a democracy in a volatile region, a society built by immigrants who turned scarcity into innovation. And it is a nation that survived when survival itself seemed improbable.

Because of that identity, Israelis do not need universal approval; they need security, prosperity, and strong alliances where interests align — especially within their own region. Everything else is secondary.

Much of the world may debate Israel endlessly. Commentators may criticize it, protest it, or attempt to isolate it. But history suggests a different trajectory: Nations that are resilient, innovative, and strategically indispensable rarely disappear from the global system. They adapt, they endure, and they build their future not on the approval of distant observers, but on the strength of their own society and the reality of their region.

For Israel, that future will not be determined by who applauds it abroad; it will be determined by the power it builds at home and the relationships it cultivates among the people who live closest to it on the map.

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