A mixed bag. That is the best way to understand the way the war with Iran ended in a tenuous ceasefire on Wednesday.
It cannot yet be defined as a victory, as Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu wants Israelis to believe. But it is also not the colossal failure that Yair Lapid and Naftali Bennett have tried to portray.
The reason many Israelis are struggling to process this outcome is because they now find themselves in a reality they are not used to – one that has taken shape over the last two and a half years of war.
Part of the problem is that politicians deceived the public into believing that everything could be achieved quickly and decisively through military force alone.
In Gaza, for example, we were promised “total victory” and that military pressure alone would destroy Hamas. Instead, after more than two and a half years, Hamas still controls 50% of Gaza and has not disarmed.
In Lebanon, we were told in November 2024 that Hezbollah had been dealt a devastating blow and that Israel had fundamentally changed the equation in the North. Yet now, Israel is again deep inside a Lebanese quagmire.
Then came the 12 Day War with Iran in June, when Israelis were told that the nuclear program had been obliterated and that Israel had achieved a “victory for generations.” And yet eight months later, together with America, we launched a new war against Iran – one that would carry on for more than five weeks.
No total victory. No victory for generations. No permanent strategic transformation.
What we have instead is something more familiar to anyone who understands how wars are actually supposed to end: impressive military achievements on the battlefield, unprecedented degradation of the enemy’s capabilities, and then the handoff to diplomats to see whether those gains can be translated into an arrangement that preserves them.
Managing expectations in war
And that is the crux of the problem: expectation management.
For too long, Israelis were sold on the wrong expectation. Not because the military achievements were not real. They were. But because they were marketed as final and absolute.
The problem is that this is never how war works, especially not in the Middle East and certainly not against an enemy like Iran. Military action can buy time and weaken, disrupt, and delay. But it does not, on its own, produce the victory.
And that is why, when we look at this war and ask what exactly was achieved, there is not yet a clear answer.
At the most basic level, what Israel and the United States accomplished was extraordinary. In a historic joint military campaign, the two allies inflicted serious damage on Iran’s military and nuclear infrastructure.
Missile stockpiles were hit. Production sites were struck. Launchers were destroyed. Naval assets were targeted. Air defenses were degraded. Scientists and commanders were eliminated.
FOR A regime that had spent decades building a powerful ring of fire around Israel and the Gulf, this was no small blow.
But as impressive as the military campaign was – and it was impressive – the real question is what comes next. Because if there is one lesson Israelis should have learned over the last two and a half years, it is that wars are not judged only by what is destroyed on the battlefield.
They are judged by what is built, secured, or prevented afterward. They are judged by whether the diplomatic and strategic outcome locks in the military gains and prevents the enemy from simply rebuilding.
And that is why the next two weeks matter so much.
Will the military achievements now be translated into political success? Will Iran be forced to surrender its roughly 460 kg. of highly enriched uranium?
Will there be real, verifiable limits on future missile development and production? Will the Strait of Hormuz be opened in a way that weakens one of Iran’s most powerful tools of coercion?
Then there is the question that hovered over this war from the very beginning: regime change. That did not happen.
But maybe it was never realistic to expect it to happen from the air. If change is going to come to Iran, it will have to come from within. It will have to come from the Iranian people themselves.
Those are the questions that will determine whether this war was merely a military success – not small at all – or something more enduring.
So is this the moment to celebrate victory? No. But it is also not the moment to declare failure, as some politicians have been quick to do.
What this is, first and foremost, is a moment to wait, to watch, and to let diplomacy play out. Only when these talks either succeed or fail will we know whether this war was just a remarkable military success or something more durable that can genuinely be called a victory.
There is, however, another point that is important to keep in mind – what we saw over the last five and a half weeks was, in many ways, the full implementation of the most important lesson of October 7.
Before that day, Israel knew that Hamas and Hezbollah had amassed massive arsenals and built extensive military infrastructure. It knew about the rockets, the tunnels, the launchers, the anti-tank missiles, the fighters, and the command structures.
But Israel was trapped in a containment strategy focused on one central question: intent. That the enemy had weapons, we knew.
The question was whether they intended to use them. Did Hamas want war or did it prefer quiet? Was Hezbollah deterred or preparing to attack?
In trying to assess intentions, Israel ended up deterring itself. It allowed the enemy’s capabilities to grow, but so long as they were not being used, everything was considered okay.
That was the disaster of October 7.
AFTER THE 12 Day War in June, when it became clear that Iran had accelerated missile production and was nearing a nuclear threshold, Israel decided not to get pulled back into the old trap.
It did not want to wait until Iran had fully restored its missile arsenal and accumulated enough military-grade uranium and then be forced to debate whether Tehran intended to use those capabilities or not. It acted first to deny the capabilities themselves.
That is important. It shows that Israel has learned from October 7 and revamped its defense doctrine. It is no longer willing to tolerate threats on its borders simply because the enemy has not yet pulled the trigger.
But this lesson comes with a painful implication. It means that what happened over the last five and a half weeks may not be exceptional. It may be the model for the future.
Because as long as this regime remains in Tehran, it will rebuild. It will develop newer missiles. It will seek to reconstitute its nuclear program.
And any future supreme leader will draw the most obvious lesson from this war: had Iran possessed a nuclear weapon, this war likely would never have happened. That means the regime’s incentive to continue pursuing one has only grown stronger.
Which means Israel’s job – ideally in partnership with the United States and other allies – will be to stop it again.
Will that happen in eight months? In 12? In 16? No one knows. But that possibility is precisely why honesty matters. It is why leaders need to speak to be transparent with the public and set realistic expectations.
They need to explain what has been achieved, and they need to explain just as clearly what has not. They need to say that military success is real and important, but that it is not permanent and that deterrence today does not guarantee quiet tomorrow.
This is not easy to hear. It is not the kind of message politicians like to deliver and does not fit neatly into campaign slogans or speeches. But it is the truth.
And I suspect that most Israelis, after everything they have lived through over the last two and a half years, already understand it. They may not want to say it out loud and may still long for the old promises of quick wars, but deep down, they know the reality has changed.
War is no longer a fleeting moment for this generation of Israelis. It is a recurring condition of life in this country. That is the reality.
What will help is clarity and honesty. And what will help most is understanding that this war, like the ones before it, should not be judged by slogans but by results – not just on the battlefield, but in the weeks and months that follow.
The writer is a co-founder of the MEAD policy forum, a senior fellow at JPPI, and a former editor-in-chief of The Jerusalem Post. His latest book is While Israel Slept.