The Dangerous Calculus: Is Israel Killing the People Who Could Actually End Its Wars?

There’s a profoundly unsettling pattern emerging from the shadows of the Middle East, a grim calculus that suggests a dangerous cycle is at play. We're talking about a strategy of targeted eliminations, often attributed to Israel, which seems to consistently remove individuals who, ironically, might have been the very people capable of de-escalating conflicts or brokering future peace deals. It's a strategy that makes you pause and wonder: are these actions truly serving their intended purpose, or are they inadvertently setting the stage for even deeper, more intractable struggles?

Consider the somber scene in Tehran this past March 18, 2026. A joint funeral, mourning significant losses: Ali Larijani, Iran's former nuclear negotiator and a truly influential political figure, alongside Major General Gholam Soleimani of the Basij, and a heartbreaking eighty-four sailors from the frigate IRIS Dena. The assertion, coming from someone as well-placed as Sir John Sawers, Britain's former foreign intelligence chief, is chillingly clear: Larijani, a man described by Western diplomats as "tough but pragmatic," was deliberately killed by Israel. His death, following closely on the heels of the assassination of Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei earlier in the war, leaves an undeniable void – a void where pragmatic dialogue might once have thrived.

But this isn't a new phenomenon, is it? History offers a stark reminder. Back in September 1948, Count Folke Bernadotte, the UN mediator for Palestine, was assassinated in Jerusalem by the Zionist underground group Lehi. Their leaders, let's remember, included future Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Shamir. More recently, in November 2020, Mohsen Fakhrizadeh, a pivotal figure in Iran's nuclear program, met a similar fate near Tehran, an act widely, almost universally, attributed to Israel. These aren't isolated incidents; they sketch a consistent, if troubling, picture.

Fast forward to more immediate memory, to the searing summer of 2024. Ismail Haniyeh, the head of Hamas’s political bureau and a key negotiator in the Gaza ceasefire talks, was assassinated by Israel in July. This happened while diplomacy was actively underway, a fact that resonates deeply. His successor? Yahya Sinwar, generally perceived as a far more hardline figure. Weeks later, Hassan Nasrallah, the formidable leader who built Hezbollah into the potent force it is today (after his predecessor, Abbas al-Musawi, was killed by Israel in 1992), was also eliminated by Israel. One might argue that such removals are intended to decapitate enemy leadership, to weaken their resolve. Yet, the crucial question remains: what kind of leadership replaces them, and does it truly serve Israel’s long-term security interests?

The tragic irony here is palpable. By systematically targeting and eliminating figures who, despite their adversarial roles, were known for their pragmatism or their capacity for negotiation, Israel might be inadvertently foreclosing avenues for de-escalation. The intent to sideline diplomacy, though inferred rather than proven, seems a plausible, even an inevitable, outcome of such actions. When a "tough but pragmatic" voice like Larijani is silenced, who steps into the void? Often, it seems, it's someone with fewer qualms about continued confrontation, someone less inclined towards the nuanced dance of diplomacy.

Indeed, the returns of removing a leader are inherently uncertain. While the immediate goal might be disruption, the long-term consequence can often be the rise of a successor who is more resilient, more extreme, or simply more committed to perpetual conflict. We've seen it with Nasrallah rising after al-Musawi, and now with Sinwar following Haniyeh. So, how does this strategy truly end? By eliminating the very individuals who could potentially bring wars to a close through negotiation, through tough but necessary dialogue, Israel risks perpetuating the cycles of violence it seeks to end. It's a profoundly complex and, one might argue, a dangerously shortsighted approach to peace.