Israel, the United States, and the attack on Qatar

MADRID – The Israeli attack on members of the Hamas delegation in Qatar, gathered to discuss a ceasefire proposal, marks a political turning point that goes beyond the immediate framework of the war in Gaza. It was not a mere military act nor a routine operation: it was a calculated move with broader implications. It called into question the validity of diplomacy, exposed the vulnerability of America’s allies, and laid bare that the regional alliance system rests on subordination, not sovereignty.
This move fits into a wider pattern. During the so-called “12-day war,” when Washington and Tehran were holding preliminary contacts over a possible new nuclear agreement, the United States launched strikes on Iranian nuclear facilities while Israel carried out direct military operations on Iranian territory. The coincidence was no accident. What was supposed to be a process of political dialogue was accompanied—indeed conditioned—by the use of force. In both contexts—then Iran, now Qatar—the message was the same: diplomacy does not restrain military coercion; it unfolds under its shadow.
The most significant aspect of what happened in Doha was not the damage inflicted on Hamas but the signal sent to the entire region. Diplomacy, traditionally a protected space even in the harshest conflicts, has lost that condition. A process conceived to explore a ceasefire became the stage for political violence.
The symbolic impact is profound. Israel and, ultimately, the United States sent an unequivocal message: they do not recognize their counterparts on a plane of legitimacy. Negotiation, which should imply at least a minimal recognition of sovereign equality, is degraded into yet another risk. The negotiating table is no longer a guarantee of truce, but a place exposed to pressure or even elimination.
At a systemic level, this shift erodes the foundations of the international order. If talks provide neither protection nor clear incentives, violence reasserts itself as the central instrument, shrinking the space available for political mediation.
Qatar: An exposed ally
The fact that this attack took place in Qatar magnifies its meaning. Doha is not an enemy of Israel; it is, above all, a U.S. ally. It hosts the largest American airbase in West Asia, and its diplomacy has for years served as a channel of negotiation in regional conflicts.
The violation of its sovereignty in this context reveals something essential: the protection offered by alliance with the United States is, ultimately, insufficient. Qatar’s expectation of having a solid guarantor collapsed in the face of evidence that even a strategic partner can be targeted when Israel’s military agenda requires it.
For Qatar, this represents a blow to the foundations of its foreign policy, which had bet on mediation under the security of the American umbrella. For the rest of Washington’s Arab allies, the episode leaves a lesson difficult to ignore: the promised stability is nothing more than a conditional commitment, which can evaporate at the most delicate moment.
Washington’s role remains the subject of debate. Some argue that the Israeli attack occurred with its consent; others see it as a reflection of its inability to restrain Tel Aviv. But the political conclusion is the same.
If there was authorization, it means the United States explicitly supports a strategy that undermines the value of diplomacy. If, instead, it was a matter of lacking control, then something perhaps more troubling is confirmed: that the world’s leading power cannot impose discipline even on its closest ally. In both scenarios, the outcome is clear: alliance with Washington does not guarantee security or stability.
This outcome forces a reconsideration of the nature of the regional order. What was perceived as a network of strategic alliances appears, in practice, as a chain of protectorates vulnerable both to their adversaries and to Israeli autonomy, with the United States operating more as a manager of dependencies than as a true guarantor of sovereignty.
What happened in Doha exposes the real nature of America’s security system in the region. Qatar, Saudi Arabia, the Emirates, and Bahrain have all engaged for decades in normalization processes or military cooperation with the United States under the assumption that they were thus safeguarding their sovereignty. Yet experience shows that such alliances instead place those closest allies in a relationship of subordination.
The message to all of them is unequivocal: alliance with Washington does not curtail Israel’s freedom of action. The supposed security guarantee becomes, in reality, a reminder of vulnerability.
In recent years, several Arab states opted for a pragmatism that would allow them to navigate an uncertain environment. The idea was to reduce risks, attract investment, and reach a degree of stability through closer ties with the United States and gradual normalization with Israel.
The attack in Qatar calls that wager into question at its core. If a small but influential country, with solid ties to Washington and recognized diplomacy, can suffer an assault during a mediation process, no other ally can feel protected. The lesson is uncomfortable: Arab pragmatism does not ensure even minimal cover against the logic of force that dominates the region.
Iran: The logic of self-sufficiency
The contrast with Iran is instructive. During the “12-day war,” U.S. strikes on nuclear facilities and Israeli military operations occurred while Tehran maintained an open channel of dialogue with Washington. For the Islamic Republic, this only confirmed its decades-old diagnosis: security does not depend on third parties but on its own capacity for deterrence and resistance.
The conclusion it drew was not new, only reaffirmed: only with strategic autonomy can it endure in an environment where negotiations are accompanied by military attacks.
For America’s regional allies, by contrast, the lesson was abrupt and humiliating: neither normalization nor permanent alliances guarantee inviolability.
Whether in Tehran, Doha, or Gaza, the common denominator is the same: force prevails over diplomacy. Negotiation is not conceived as a limit on violence but as a space subordinated to it. Washington and Tel Aviv operate on the premise that balances are not built at the negotiating table but on the military ground.
This principle redefines the rules of the international system. Diplomacy, instead of functioning as a substitute for force, is conditioned by it. What is offered is not a framework of stability but the certainty that even the closest allies can be sacrificed before military priorities.
What Israel really wants
The Israeli attack on the Hamas delegation in Qatar cannot be understood as an accident nor as a circumstantial excess linked only to the war in Gaza. It is the confirmation of a broader and consistent pattern: diplomacy has ceased to be a safe space, and alliance with the United States—far from guaranteeing stability—has proven insufficient in the moments of greatest tension.
The implications for Washington’s allies are direct and hard to ignore. Their vulnerability manifests itself through recurring humiliation that shows their sovereignty is largely nominal. The international order taking shape around Washington and Tel Aviv does not rest on principles of balance or mutual legality but on the primacy of coercion and the capacity to impose the fates of others.
In this scenario, the region is deprived of any middle ground. There is no longer a neutral or pragmatic space that ensures protection. States face a binary choice: accept vassalage, with the political and strategic costs it entails, or turn to forms of resistance that allow them to preserve a minimum of autonomy in the face of an order incapable of offering real guarantees.
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