The One Thing to Remember About Ceasefires

As for the next bout? Israel will be ready, as always, long before its adversaries realize the game has changed yet again. But what about the rest of us?

Israeli soldiers on duty (photo: IDF/X)

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A ceasefire, by definition, is a cessation of hostilities.

It is not a peace agreement by any stretch of the imagination.

A ceasefire is the battlefield equivalent of a timeout, not an endgame. The rockets stop rocketing, the borders quiet, but the tensions simmer unabated, waiting for the next spark.

This is particularly true for Israel, whose adversaries — Hamas, Hezbollah and their patron, the Islamic Republic of Iran — do not in any way, shape, or form view these pauses as opportunities for reconciliation. Instead, these groups use ceasefires as tactical breathing spaces, times to rearm, regroup, and refine their strategies for the next confrontation.

Israel, however, is not merely marking time during these pauses. It is also preparing, innovating, and recalibrating. The Israel Defense Forces (IDF) has turned readiness into an art form. Its history demonstrates an extraordinary ability to anticipate, adapt, and ultimately prevail, even against foes whose hostility is unyielding. This readiness is not a byproduct of happenstance, but the result of a doctrine forged by necessity and honed by vigilance.

Of course, October 7th was probably the biggest gaffe in Israeli history and one of the most consequential in modern Jewish records. There is a trove to learn and analyze about everything that led to October 7th, on both Israel and its enemies’ sides, and no individual, ministry, or department should be spared the width and depth of such dissections.

At the same time, Israel has proven since October 7th — as if anyone with a working brain had a doubt — that Hamas, Hezbollah, and their chief sponsor Iran are not inherently formidable adversaries. They are house-of-cards entities teetering on the illusion of strength. Their power lies not in their capacity for genuine military superiority, but in their knack for exploiting chaos, spreading terror, and orchestrating asymmetrical warfare that plays more to optics than to actual endurance.

October 7th revealed a chink in Israel’s otherwise impenetrable armor — a stark reminder that even the most fortified can stumble. Yet, the events since have shown that when the tide turns, as it inevitably does, Israel is the ocean. Its military, economic, and societal resilience far outstrip the brittle scaffolding upon which its adversaries build their fleeting moments of perceived victory.

Hamas operates from the shadows, Hezbollah huffs from its bunkers, and Iran gesticulates grandly from afar. Yet all three, for all their bluster, are unified by a grim reality: Their success hinges on Israel’s missteps, not their own brilliance. And as October 7th transitions from shock to a galvanizing memory, Israel has demonstrated it learns, recalibrates, and responds with an efficacy these adversaries can only dream of.

In essence, they are not adversaries but nuisances — dangerous, yes, but ephemeral. They are the wolves who fancy themselves lions, only to find that the jungle belongs, and will always belong, to Israel.

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Ceasefires are inevitable. Even the most conniving aggressors need to take a step back — not out of benevolence, but because every pyromaniac occasionally needs to catch their breath, restock their matches, and double-check if the fire insurance is still valid.

For groups like Hamas and Hezbollah, ceasefires are less about laying down arms and more about laying the groundwork for their next misadventure. Their bravado may demand endless resistance, but reality — logistical shortages, crumbling infrastructure, and the occasional hostile drone overhead — has a way of imposing its limits.

Israel, for its part, sees ceasefires not as an end to conflict but as a change in tempo. It uses these moments not to bask in illusions of peace but to prepare for the next act in a drama that, unfortunately, remains cyclical. Both sides may pause, but only one emerges stronger for it — less a truce than an interlude in an opera that Israel, ever the conductor, intends to conclude on its terms.

So, while aggressors regroup, rest assured: Israel’s quiet is never complacency. It is calculation. And when the music resumes, the score will favor the Jewish state. You can be sure that Israel’s security and defense establishments will be ready for the next bout against any adversary which dares to pick a fight it can never win against the Jewish state.

All we have to do is look at the ingenious pager and walkie-talkie attack back in September which significantly injured at least 3,000 of Hezbollah’s operatives — a reminder that Israel fights wars not just with weapons but with wits. Of course, this plan of action was years in the works.

While commentators were warning Israel about the devastating blows that Hezbollah could land on Israeli territory, and on the terror group’s missile arsenal and tunnel networks, the Israelis were covertly perfecting the art of turning Hezbollah’s own infrastructure into a liability.

While analysts sketched doomsday scenarios of Hezbollah raining rockets down on the Jewish state, the Israelis were patiently sowing chaos into Hezbollah’s very core, undermining its operational coherence in ways that even the most paranoid warlord could not foresee.

As for the next bout? Israel will be ready, as always, long before its adversaries realize the game has changed yet again.

But what about the rest of us? I am talking about Jews, Zionists, and supporters of Israel and the Jewish People. What have we learned during the last 14 months, and what will we do differently in between now and the next war, so that we are not caught with our collective pants down again?

First, we have learned that unwavering faith in Israel’s military brilliance is not enough. Confidence is no substitute for vigilance, and pride should never morph into complacency. Supporting Israel means more than sharing hashtags or waving flags when things go awry; it means investing in the long game: strengthening Jewish unity, educating the next generation about what is truly at stake, and ensuring our communities have the tools to counter the propaganda wars that rage alongside the military ones.

Second, we have seen that silence, whether born of fear or indifference, is its own betrayal. The months leading to war are littered with warning signs — rhetorical escalations, strategic alliances, media campaigns painting Israel as the aggressor — all of which demand a proactive response from us, not just from Israel’s government. If we wait until rockets fall to find our voice, then we have already lost the battle of narratives.

And finally, we have learned that the fight is not just over borders or missiles — it is over identity. The enemies of Israel and the Jewish People attack not just with weapons but with stories that twist history and erode solidarity. The question we must answer now is this: Will we allow them to define us as occupiers, colonizers, ethnic cleansers, genociders, or worse? Or will we assert, boldly and unapologetically, the truth of who we are — a people with a 3,000-year-old legacy of resilience, faith, and justice?

Between now and the next war, our task is clear: to prepare not just Israel’s borders but our hearts and minds. To ensure that when the next conflict comes, we are not bystanders cheering from the sidelines but active participants in defending a story far greater than ourselves. Because if there is one thing the last 14 months have taught us, it is that the battle for Israel’s survival is not fought only in the Middle East; it is fought wherever Jews and their supporters choose to stand and make themselves heard.

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Many politicians, pundits, and amateur geopolitical analysts will have their hot take on the Israel-Hezbollah ceasefire that went into effect during the night between Tuesday and Wednesday. Some will cheer it on, others will see it as a trap for Israel.

I, personally, am not very concerned about Israel.

Israel knows what to do to take care of itself. It always has. From the moment of the country’s improbable birth in 1948, surrounded by enemies predicting its swift demise, to its near-miraculous recovery in wars that seemed destined to crush it, Israel has been a master of survival, strategy, and adaptation.

A ceasefire? It is just one flat curveball in a game that the Israelis have played pretty damn well for decades.

So my concern is not for Israel. It is for the rest of us —Jews, Zionists, and supporters of Israel scattered across the globe, who too often treat Israeli resilience as if it were some inexhaustible resource, a perpetual motion machine of survival that operates independent of our own efforts.

While Israel recalibrates and strengthens during these pauses, are we doing the same? Or are we simply scrolling through headlines, tweeting support, and waiting for the next siren to wail before springing into action?

The truth is, every ceasefire is a mirror, reflecting not just the conflict itself but also our own readiness.

Have we fortified our communities against the rising tide of antisemitism that often masquerades as “anti-Zionism”? Have we built alliances strong enough to weather the propaganda wars that rage in tandem with the battles on the ground? Have we taught our children the difference between moral clarity and moral confusion, so they are prepared to stand firm when the world inevitably pressures them to take sides?

And, have we done our part — however small — to stop playing the stupid games of identity politics and irrelevant social justice causes that make all feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and instead invest more in strengthening the Jewish People?

Israel will be fine. It is made up of a proud, determined, unshakeable people who always find a way, whether through ingenuity, sheer willpower, or the grace of whatever divine providence you choose to believe in. But the rest of us? We cannot afford to ride the coattails of Israel’s preparedness. We cannot afford to be the cheering section for a team that we are not actively helping.

Ceasefires are not just intermissions in war; they are opportunities for us to prepare for the next chapter. Because make no mistake, there will be a next chapter. And when it arrives, the challenge is whether we, Israel’s allies, will emerge wiser and more united — or will we merely wait for the next crisis to remember why we care.

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