The news arrives with the grim predictability of a Greek tragedy: Benjamin Netanyahu and Donald Trump, two men who treat statecraft as a blend of reality television and Machiavellian farce, are hurtling the Middle East towards a state of permanent crisis. As the bombs fall and the bodies pile up, British diplomacy—ever the well-meaning but impotent chorus—wrings its hands and calls for a ceasefire. One must admire the sheer consistency of our foreign office: always arriving at the scene of the fire with a teacup and a suggestion that everyone ‘calm down’.
Let us be clear: the current escalation is not a spasm of violence; it is a deliberate policy. Netanyahu, facing corruption trials at home and a restless electorate, has long understood that external chaos is the best solvent for internal accountability. Trump, meanwhile, operates on the principle that the world is a zero-sum game where strength is measured in explosions rather than diplomacy. Together, they have created a feedback loop of provocation and retaliation that makes the Thirty Years’ War look like a minor scuffle.
The permacrisis is not a bug but a feature. For Netanyahu, a state of endless conflict justifies the occupation, the settlements, the erosion of democratic norms. It allows him to position himself as the indispensable guardian of Israel’s security, even as he leaves the nation more isolated than ever. For Trump, the chaos serves a different purpose: it destabilises the region in a way that benefits his allies in the Gulf, arms manufacturers, and his own craving for a legacy as a strongman. The suffering of Palestinians, Israelis, and indeed the entire region is merely the backdrop for their vanity projects.
What then of the British role? Our diplomats have been busy, crafting careful statements, urging restraint, and reminding everyone of the ‘two-state solution’ as if it were a forgotten recipe in a drawer. But the truth is that the UK has been a marginal player in Middle East affairs since the Suez Crisis. Our influence today is limited to a few thousand expats, a couple of aid programmes, and a permanent seat on the UN Security Council that we use mostly to nod along with Washington. The suggestion that British diplomacy can steer these titans of ego towards peace is akin to a village vicar trying to mediate between two feuding crime lords.
Yet we must ask: what is the alternative? The permacrisis will not burn itself out. It will metastasise. The current conflict is already spilling into Lebanon, Syria, and Yemen. The Houthis, emboldened by Iranian support, are using the chaos to expand their own influence. ISIS, too, is stirring in the shadows. The region is becoming a zone of perpetual warfare, a great power playground where local lives are the currency of geopolitical games.
The only way out is a radical rethinking of what the West, and particularly the US, wants from the Middle East. As long as the primary goal is the security of Israel and the containment of Iran, the cycle will continue. We need a new framework: one that prioritises human security, economic development, and the rule of law over the whims of strongmen. This means cutting off arms sales to parties that violate international law, imposing real sanctions on settlement expansion, and treating the Palestinian question as a matter of basic justice rather than a bargaining chip.
But do not hold your breath. The architecture of the modern Middle East was built on colonial maps, oil contracts, and spheres of influence. It will not be dismantled by a few well-worded cables from the Foreign Office. So we will continue to witness the tragedy: Netanyahu and Trump, dancing on the edge of the abyss, while British diplomats offer them a cup of tea and a gentle reproach. The spectacle is as dispiriting as it is predictable. And the region, as always, pays the price.
