There are moments when, during an interview with a Jordanian commentator, journalist, or academic, I have to make a real effort to restrain myself. I hear the harsh criticism of Israel, the demonstrations against us, the attempts to lay siege to the Israeli Embassy in Amman, the restrictions imposed on Israeli tourism, and the pressure on Jordanian citizens seeking to visit Israel. I also hear expressions of solidarity with the October 7 massacre and the hostility toward Israel and its symbols.
Sometimes I find myself wondering: Why are you doing this to us? After all, we supply you with water and gas, maintain security cooperation, and want the Hashemite Kingdom to remain stable. At times, I feel like telling them in Arabic, using the harsh expression “ya jahidun,” that they are ungrateful.
But then I remind myself that countries do not conduct foreign policy on the basis of gratitude. Even if Jordan does not like Israel, even if the Jordanian public is hostile toward it, and even if political relations repeatedly descend into crisis, Israel’s interests require maintaining an open relationship that allows dialogue to continue. Israel needs a stable, functioning Jordan, a relatively quiet eastern border, security cooperation, and a kingdom capable of exercising control over its territory. The alternative could be far more dangerous. This, in fact, is one of the keys to understanding Israeli foreign policy: the stability of a country that does not like Israel can be a clear Israeli interest.
This is neither love nor friendship, and not necessarily even trust. It is pragmatism. It emerged from Israel’s experience of learning that the Middle East is not a place where it can choose to maintain relations only with countries that are sympathetic to it. In other words, there is a strategic necessity to live with the neighbors we did not choose and, where possible, to build a system of shared interests with them that can prevent an even worse outcome.
Hostility or Chaos?
There is a deep paradox at the heart of Israel’s foreign and security policy. On the one hand, Israel maintains relations with some of its neighbors that can, at best, be described as a “cold peace.” The Egyptian public, like the Jordanian public, shows little sympathy for Israel. Political relations repeatedly plunge into crisis, while the Palestinian arena remains the scene of a profound political conflict. On the other hand, beneath the surface, an extensive system of security, intelligence, and economic coordination is in place.
Water flows from Israel to Jordan. Israeli natural gas flows to Egypt and Jordan. Israeli and Egyptian security agencies maintain communication channels. Israel has an interest in the stability of Jordan’s Hashemite regime, and security coordination with Palestinian security forces has also continued for years.
At first glance, this seems contradictory. In reality, it is one of the most consistent features of Israeli strategic thinking: the stability of a neighboring country can serve Israel’s interests even when relations with it are far from friendly. This approach emerged from a reality in which Israel learned, time and again, that the alternative to stable hostility could be far more dangerous chaos.
A State Born into Isolation
Israel was born into a hostile regional environment, surrounded by Arab states that refused to accept its existence. In its early years, it had no stable regional alliances, and it was unclear whether the countries around it would remain stable or attempt to change the situation by force.
Out of this reality emerged the understanding that security cannot be reduced to military power alone. It also requires creating strategic space, building ties with various actors in the region, and identifying shared interests even with countries that are not friendly.
The “Periphery Doctrine,” associated primarily with David Ben-Gurion and the strategic policy of Israel’s early years, embodied precisely this logic. Rather than resigning itself to isolation within a hostile Arab core, Israel sought to establish ties with countries and actors outside the circle of direct confrontation.
The logic was simple: if the entire region could not be made friendly toward Israel, it was at least possible to build a network of shared interests that would reduce Israel’s isolation and create partnerships in areas where both sides stood to benefit.
Over the years, the countries, threats, and alliances changed, but the principle remained. Israel learned that it could disagree with other countries on ideological and political questions while still cooperating on security, water, energy, and border issues.
An Internal Affair? Not Only
One of the earliest and clearest examples of this approach was Jordan in 1970. That year, a fierce confrontation erupted between the Hashemite regime and the Palestinian organizations operating in Jordan, led by the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO). Yasser Arafat and other Palestinian organizations had amassed considerable power, and their struggle with King Hussein escalated into an internal war.
From Israel’s perspective, this was not merely an internal Jordanian conflict. The prospect of the Hashemite regime collapsing and Jordan becoming a power base for armed Palestinian groups carried enormous strategic implications. Instead of a stable kingdom east of Israel, an unstable, armed Palestinian entity could emerge, engaged in direct confrontation with Israel along a long border.
At this point, President Richard Nixon conveyed a clear American message to Israel: it should prepare for the possibility of defending Jordan. The accompanying message was that Israeli and American interests coincided in this case, since both countries had an interest in preventing a hostile takeover of the kingdom. Golda Meir understood the significance of this message.
Israel was therefore prepared to make military preparations to deter Syrian intervention and help preserve the Hashemite regime. Not because the regime was close to Israel, but because the alternative appeared far more dangerous. In retrospect, Black September was therefore much more than an internal Jordanian event. It demonstrated a principle that would continue to shape Israel’s thinking: when a neighboring country loses its ability to control its territory, an internal crisis can spill across borders.
In 1970, Israel feared the collapse of Jordan and the rise of the PLO. In the years that followed, it learned that the same logic could also apply to Egypt, Sinai, and the Palestinian political arena.
The Peace with Jordan Did Not Invent Pragmatism
Secret ties between Israel and Jordan predated the 1994 peace treaty by decades. Declassified American documents show that secret contacts between King Hussein and Israel were already taking place in the 1960s.
This fact is important for understanding the phenomenon. The peace treaty did not create Israel’s pragmatic approach toward Jordan; it transformed it into an open, institutionalized system. The treaty established not only mutual recognition and diplomatic relations, but also security, border, and water arrangements, along with mechanisms designed to allow both sides to manage their relationship even during periods of tension.
In this sense, peace with Jordan is a classic example of “functional peace”: a relationship in which the parties are not necessarily close socially or ideologically, but have good reasons to preserve their ties.
Energy and Water as Shared Interests
Water may be the clearest expression of this relationship. In Israeli public discourse, people sometimes say that Israel “gives” water to Jordan. But the word “gives” misses the essence of the arrangement. Jordan suffers from chronic water scarcity. Israel has developed desalination capabilities, water infrastructure, and technologies that allow it to address shortages in a completely different way. This has created mutual dependence. Increasing water supplies to Jordan is not merely a humanitarian gesture. From Israel’s perspective, a stable, functioning Jordan is a strategic asset. A country facing a crisis of water, economy, and governance can quickly become a security problem.
In 2021, the water arrangement was expanded, with Israel agreeing to supply Jordan with approximately 100 million cubic meters of water annually, up from about 50 million cubic meters under the original arrangement (within the framework of the Oslo Accords). At the same time, significant energy ties developed between the two countries. Water, then, is not merely a resource. It is part of a broader system of interdependence in which security, economic, and environmental interests converge.
Egypt: From Enemy to Partner
A similar pattern can be found in relations between Israel and Egypt. The peace treaty signed in 1979 was an enormous strategic achievement for Israel. Egypt, the largest Arab country and the strongest in military terms, withdrew from the cycle of direct wars with Israel. But peace did not turn Egypt into a friendly country in the social sense. For decades, it remained a “cold peace.” Political relations were maintained, but Egyptian society did not undergo a parallel process of reconciliation and normalization.
Nevertheless, the security establishments of the two countries identified shared interests. The clearest example is Sinai. After 2011, Sinai became an arena for jihadist terrorism. It suddenly became clear that both Israel and Egypt had a clear interest in ensuring that the Egyptian military maintained control over the territory.
The peace treaty imposed limits on the size of Egyptian forces deployed in parts of Sinai. But as the threat changed, Israel agreed to adjustments that allowed Egypt to expand its military operations against terrorist organizations. An agreement originally designed to prevent war thus became a mechanism enabling the two countries to confront a new threat together.
The Palestinians Are Part of the Equation Too
The Palestinian case is more complex, but it illustrates the same mechanism particularly well. Israel and the Palestinian Authority do not enjoy peaceful relations. There is no permanent-status agreement between them, and the gaps between their positions on the core issues of the conflict are enormous. Nevertheless, a security coordination mechanism has developed over the years.
Its foundations were laid in the Oslo Accords, which established an institutional framework comprising committees, communication channels, and security coordination mechanisms. Even after the political process collapsed, part of the professional infrastructure survived. From Israel’s perspective, functioning Palestinian security forces are preferable to a security vacuum. From the Palestinian Authority’s perspective, security cooperation is part of its ability to maintain control over the territory and preserve its institutions.
This has created a paradoxical situation in which the two sides can disagree on almost every fundamental issue of the conflict while still cooperating to prevent chaos. This is not peace. It is the management of a hostile reality through mechanisms that serve the interests of both sides.
Peace on Paper
Here lies one of the most important explanations for the phenomenon of “cold peace.” When one country signs an agreement with another, this does not necessarily reflect a change in attitudes among their citizens. The Egyptian government may consider its relationship with Israel strategically important, while large segments of Egyptian society continue to oppose normalization. Jordan, too, has a gap between the state’s interests and the views of large segments of its society.
This gives rise to a complex triangle: the state needs the relationship, the public does not necessarily want it, and the government tries to maintain ties at a level that does not impose an unbearable political cost.
Much of the cooperation therefore takes place beneath the surface. This is not necessarily hypocrisy. Sometimes it is how regimes manage the tension between national interests and public opinion. It also helps explain why peace is not as visible on the streets as it is within the security establishments.
Strategies Used Around the World
This pattern is not unique to Israel. The United States, for example, cultivated security ties with Pakistan for decades, even as relations between the two countries experienced deep crises, disagreements, and mutual suspicion. Washington needed Pakistan primarily because of its strategic location, its proximity to Afghanistan, and its role in the struggle against the Soviet Union and terrorist organizations.
India and Bangladesh also offer an interesting example of relations between neighboring countries. The two countries disagree over borders, migration, water, and politics, yet maintain coordination and cooperation mechanisms because neither can afford an uncontrolled border. In both cases, as in Israel’s experience, practical interests can endure even when political relations are far from harmonious.
As part of Israel’s survival strategy, we have learned to view problems as realities that can be managed and lived with: water scarcity is a problem that can be managed; smuggling is a problem that can be thwarted; a border is a system that can be monitored; terrorism is a threat that can be investigated through intelligence and countered; disagreements over natural gas can be resolved through a deal, and so on.
This approach places considerable weight on the security establishment, intelligence services, and professional echelons. Its advantage is clear: it allows Israel to function even when a political solution is nowhere in sight.
But it also has a weakness. It can create a habit of managing the conflict rather than trying to change it. Israel may become accustomed to “quiet” instead of peace, coordination instead of trust, and emergency arrangements instead of long-term agreements.
The Abraham Accords: Beyond “Cold Peace”
The Abraham Accords opened up a different possibility. With countries such as the United Arab Emirates and Bahrain, more visible ties have developed in tourism, aviation, investment, business, technology, and civilian cooperation. This represents a significant shift in thinking. Instead of a system based primarily on security mechanisms and functional ties, there is now an attempt to create a broader public and social interest in the success of these relationships as well.
Yet even here, the Middle East makes it impossible to ignore the Palestinian issue entirely. Major security developments repeatedly bring the Palestinian arena back to the forefront, making it difficult for Arab countries to transform their relations with Israel into full, public normalization. The more significant development in recent years has been the recognition that Israel’s assets can be used not only to preserve stability, but also to build diplomatic leverage.
Water, gas, technology, intelligence, air defense, and infrastructure are not merely tools for cooperation. They can create deep mutual dependence. This calls for a subtle shift. There is no need to move from a policy of cooperation to one of threats. On the contrary, using resources too aggressively could undermine Israel’s own interests. But it is possible to move from a model of “we provide because it serves our interests” to one of institutionalized reciprocity. Water can be linked to environmental cooperation. Energy can become part of a broader regional system. Technology can be integrated into joint projects. Security coordination can be based on clear mutual commitments.
The goal is not to make these relationships romantic. It is to create a system in which both sides have something to lose if it falls apart.
The Iranian Threat Reinforces This Trend
In recent years, a new factor has entered the equation: Iran. The Iranian threat, through missiles, drones, proxies, and armed organizations, sometimes creates shared interests among countries that do not necessarily want to be seen as partners of Israel. Regional developments have demonstrated that Arab countries can find themselves operating within the same defense system or facing the same threat environment as Israel.
This is particularly significant in Jordan. The Hashemite Kingdom does not want to become an overt Israeli ally against Iran, but neither does it want its territory to become a corridor for weapons, drugs, or hostile actors. Once again, interests that do not stem from political affinity are brought together.
This principle has already extended beyond the Middle East. In recent years, Israeli technologies, products, and services have reached countries that do not maintain full diplomatic relations with Israel, sometimes directly and sometimes through international companies and partners. In fields such as water, agriculture, cybersecurity, communications, and defense technologies, technology creates relationships that do not necessarily require an embassy or a peace treaty.
In the 20th century, alliances were signed in ink; in the 21st century, they are written in code. They are built through data, infrastructure, knowledge, and technologies that are difficult to replace. When a country relies on an essential Israeli solution, a form of dependence emerges that gives the relationship weight even in the absence of political affinity. This may be the next stage in Israel’s strategic DNA: not merely identifying shared interests, but building systems in which those interests are embedded.
The Bottom Line
Israel does not need to turn all its neighbors into allies. The challenge is to build a regional environment in which countries have a genuine interest in preserving stability, cooperation, and ties with Israel. Water, energy, security, technology, and trade can turn these relationships into a system that is more difficult to dismantle.
Perhaps this leads to one of the most important insights of Israeli foreign policy: peace does not have to begin with friendship. Sometimes it begins with a colder, simpler recognition: we may not be friends, but we have an interest in keeping the system between us functioning. That may be the real story behind Israel’s relations with some of its neighbors.
Israel and Egypt are not “friends.” Israel and Jordan are not “friends.” Israel and the Palestinian Authority are certainly not “friends.” And yet, a system of shared interests, coordination, and mutual dependence exists between them. Peace is not always visible on the streets. Sometimes it exists in situation rooms, coordination mechanisms, water pipelines, gas facilities, border crossings, and phone calls between officers. This is an unseen peace. It is not necessarily based on trust; sometimes it rests on dependence, shared interests, or the recognition that the alternative is worse.
From the secret contacts with Hussein, through Black September, the peace treaties with Egypt and Jordan, water, gas, Sinai, and security coordination with the Palestinians, one pattern keeps recurring: over the years, Israel has learned to treat regional stability not as the result of good relations, but as a security requirement in its own right.
