Gabriel G. Tabarani*
On September 9, Israeli fighter jets struck a Hamas leadership meeting in Doha, Qatar. The attack, reportedly aimed at Khalil al-Hayyeh and other senior Hamas figures, marked more than just another tactical manoeuver in Israel’s grinding war against Hamas. It was, in essence, a strategic declaration: Israel has abandoned even the pretense of negotiation and embraced a doctrine of uncompromising destruction. But in doing so, it risks undermining the very goals it claims to be pursuing—freeing hostages, securing borders, and sustaining alliances.
The symbolic weight of targeting Hamas leaders on Qatari soil cannot be overstated. Qatar has long played a complicated role: host to Hamas leaders, financier of Gaza under tacit Israeli approval, and, most importantly, mediator in cease-fire talks. By striking in Doha, Israel sent a message not just to Hamas but to Qatar, Egypt, the United States, and the international community: diplomacy is off the table.
Yet the contradictions of Israel’s strategy are glaring. Hamas’s external leadership has played a diminishing role in military operations. Power lies with commanders in Gaza, who remain decentralized and resilient. Killing leaders abroad is unlikely to weaken Hamas on the ground. Instead, it sabotages diplomatic channels that might have secured the release of roughly 20 Israeli hostages still in Hamas custody. By undercutting mediation, Israel is moving further away from one of its most urgent objectives.
The Doha strike also reverberates far beyond Gaza. For the United States, the attack represents a diplomatic nightmare. Qatar is a major non-NATO ally, home to the Al-Udeid Air Base—the largest U.S. facility in the Middle East—and a linchpin of Washington’s regional strategy. The perception that Washington may have “greenlit” the strike, or at least failed to prevent it, weakens U.S. credibility. For Gulf allies relying on American guarantees, the message is chilling: the U.S. may tolerate attacks on your territory if they serve Israeli interests.
This erosion of trust comes at a delicate moment. Gulf States have already been diversifying their security partnerships, turning to China and Russia. The Doha strike will only accelerate that trend, particularly as leaders question whether Washington’s umbrella is as reliable as advertised. The fallout is not confined to Qatar. Turkey, a NATO member and close partner of Doha, is likely to view the strike as another provocation amid already rising tensions with Israel.
Inside Israel, the attack plays into domestic politics. Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, once seen as cautious in the use of force, has pivoted dramatically since the October 7 Hamas assault that left more than a thousand Israelis dead. His government, under pressure from the right, has defined total destruction of Hamas as the only acceptable outcome. For Netanyahu, demonstrating resolve—even in ways that imperil diplomacy—serves his core constituency. The message is clear: negotiations are futile, only force will deliver security.
But this vision collides with reality. Hamas remains deeply entrenched in Gaza, buoyed by a population that, despite immense suffering, sees the group as a symbol of resistance. Israel has also foreclosed alternatives by rejecting the Palestinian Authority’s return to Gaza. In practice, Hamas reasserts itself whenever Israeli troops pull back, prolonging the war indefinitely.
The humanitarian toll is staggering. More than 64,000 Palestinians have been killed since October 7, a third of them children, alongside nearly 2,000 Israelis. Whole neighborhoods in Gaza lie in ruins. Yet Israel’s military advances have not translated into decisive political gains. Instead, the war appears locked in a self-perpetuating cycle: Hamas survives, Israel escalates, and Gaza suffers.
The broader geopolitical fallout is corrosive. Israel’s strike on Qatar undermines U.S. efforts to expand the Abraham Accords and deepen normalization with the Arab world. Already, the United Arab Emirates—once a pioneer of regional integration—has warned that Israel’s creeping annexation of the West Bank represents a “red line.” The Doha attack, viewed as an affront to a fellow Gulf State, further dims prospects of reconciliation. Instead of isolating Hamas, Israel risks isolating itself.
The strike also reshapes the narrative around U.S. involvement. Washington insists it had no prior knowledge, but few in the region believe Israel would strike Doha without informing its closest ally. If the U.S. knew and stood aside, its silence undermines credibility. If it truly did not know, it raises unsettling questions about how much influence Washington retains over Israel. Either way, America’s standing suffers.
So where does this leave the conflict? For Hamas, options remain limited: sporadic attacks in Israel or symbolic hostage executions. Neither will shift the balance. For Israel, the military path promises only diminishing returns, as Gaza’s devastation fails to deliver security while deepening international isolation. For the United States, the challenge is existential: how to sustain a regional order when its own ally undermines diplomacy and alienates crucial partners.
In truth, Israel’s strike in Doha is less a tactical move than a strategic gamble—a gamble that force alone can erase Hamas, that diplomacy is irrelevant, and that U.S. support will remain unconditional. But history suggests otherwise. Assassination attempts abroad have often backfired, strengthening Hamas rather than weakening it. Hostage negotiations collapse when interlocutors are killed. And U.S. allies rarely forgive the perception that their sovereignty is expendable.
If Israel continues down this path, it risks turning its war against Hamas into a wider regional confrontation—one that could erode partnerships and deepen the spiral of violence. The tragedy is not only in the lives already lost but in the narrowing of alternatives. By closing the door to diplomacy, Israel is not bringing peace closer. It is pushing it further away.
This article was originally published in Arabic on the Asswak Al-Arab website
