The US-Israeli diplomatic relationship has always been complex, oscillating between deep strategic alignment and periods of subtle tension.
However, the recent approach of US President Donald Trump towards Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has taken even seasoned observers by surprise. It is not merely the content of the actions that stands out, but also their timing and manner. There have been calculated surprises that seemingly leave Netanyahu politically isolated and strategically sidelined.
At first glance, the changes appear to be strategic recalibrations: a White House that is reassessing its footprint in the Middle East, diversifying its regional engagements, and signalling that America’s interests are no longer solely tethered to Tel Aviv. But beneath this diplomatic choreography lies another, more personal dimension, one rooted not in geopolitics, but in memory, resentment, and a leader’s emotional ledger.
Over the past few months, Trump has made a series of moves that have raised eyebrows in Israeli political circles and sent a subtle but sharp message to Netanyahu. The US Administration has denied Netanyahu carte blanche in Gaza, resumed backchannel dialogue with Iran, orchestrated a ceasefire with the Houthis in Yemen, and even publicly revealed the number of live Israeli captives in Gaza, all with little or no consultation with the Israeli government.
For Netanyahu, who once enjoyed almost unfiltered access to Trump’s inner circle, the message must be sobering. The hotline has gone cold. The usual gestures of camaraderie, press conferences, flattery, coordinated policy rollouts, are noticeably absent. During his most recent visit to Washington, Netanyahu was treated not as a cherished ally but as a political afterthought.
What’s behind this chilly diplomatic weather? Some analysts argue that it is simply a tactical shift. Trump’s foreign policy, even in his first term, was transactional and iconoclastic. His approach upended long-held assumptions about US alliances and global commitments. He views international relations less as a moral enterprise and more as a business deal. If aligning with Iran or securing a ceasefire in Yemen gets Washington a better return, so be it, even if it comes at the cost of Israeli (or the current Israeli government’s) preferences.
But the timing, tone, and nature of the recent decisions suggest that something more personal may be in play. The rift may go back to a key moment in January 2020 during the planning of the high-stakes operation to assassinate Iranian General Qassem Soleimani. Initially conceived as a joint US-Israel endeavour, the mission promised symbolic and strategic resonance. But according to accounts from those familiar with the operation, Netanyahu backed out at the eleventh hour, leaving Trump without an operational partner.
Trump did not back off and decided to satisfy his arrogance and proceeded alone.
For a president who prizes loyalty above all else, Netanyahu’s decision was not just a policy divergence; it was a betrayal. Trump proceeded with the strike regardless, but the sting of Netanyahu’s withdrawal appears to have left a scar.
In Trump’s world, betrayal carries a price, and it is often paid back not in kind words or warm welcomes but through quiet marginalisation and strategic cold-shouldering.
The recent diplomatic posture supports this interpretation. By reopening negotiations with Iran (Israel’s arch-nemesis) and bypassing Tel Aviv in Middle Eastern initiatives, Trump is signalling to the region that Washington’s centre of gravity may be shifting.
It is a powerful move, reinforcing Trump’s image as an unpredictable dealmaker who refuses to be bound by old alliances or loyalties. But it also speaks volumes about his disposition towards Netanyahu.
Gone are the photo-ops and effusive praise. In their place is a calculated distance, a deliberate cooling that suggests Trump has not forgotten the Soleimani episode. In fact, he may be using the full weight of American foreign policy to underscore the consequences of crossing him.
For Netanyahu, this poses a triple crisis. Domestically, he remains embattled, facing growing dissent and political fragmentation. Regionally, he finds his traditional ally pursuing policies that contradict Israel’s security doctrine. And personally, he is confronting the withering of a once-crucial friendship, one that was built on shared interests but undone by a single act of perceived disloyalty.
The broader implication for Israel is stark: American support is no longer a guaranteed constant. In an age when relationships are transactional and diplomacy is filtered through personal histories; the country must reassess how it navigates the shifting sands of US politics. The notion of a “special relationship” is being tested and replaced perhaps by a more conditional, performance-based alliance.
Some will welcome this evolution. A US that is less beholden to Israeli preferences may be freer to broker regional peace deals, hold both sides accountable, and re-engage with actors like Iran and Yemen. Others will see it as a dangerous unravelling, one that weakens Israel’s strategic deterrent and emboldens its adversaries.
But beyond these policy debates lies a human truth: global diplomacy is still governed by the egos, emotions, and memories of its participants. When a leader like Trump feels slighted, the ramifications are not confined to private anger. Instead, they reverberate through treaties, troop deployments, and televised statements.
In this sense, Trump’s recent behaviour towards Netanyahu is not just about policy. It’s about power. It’s a reminder that access is earned and maintained not just through strategic value, but through personal allegiance. And when that allegiance falters, even momentarily, the costs can be profound.
As the dust settles on this evolving chapter, Netanyahu and indeed all global leaders may find themselves reassessing the calculus of loyalty, because in Trump’s orbit, loyalty is more than a political currency. It is the very price of admission, at least for the four years to come.
The writer is a professor of international humanitarian law and former regional head of the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs for the MENA region.
* A version of this article appears in print in the 29 May, 2025 edition of Al-Ahram Weekly
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