The Inflection Point
The Hamas-led surprise attack on Israel of October 7, 2023, sent shockwaves through the Middle East. Beyond the immediate horror – over a thousand Israelis massacred and scores taken hostage – the aftermath of October 7th may have set in motion a far-reaching geopolitical and ideological shift.
In the 2 years since, events have cascaded in a way that suggests this date was a catalyst for reshaping the region. Israel and its Western allies responded with unprecedented resolve, treating the attack not as an isolated terror incident but as an inflection point – an opportunity (some would say pretext) to redraw both the map of power in the Middle East and the boundaries of acceptable Islamic political ideology.
The theory emerging is that October 7th was used to justify a broad offensive – military and intellectual – aimed at “taming” the more radical manifestations of political Islam and solidifying a new regional order.
War on ‘Radical Islam’
Israel’s immediate reaction to Hamas’s onslaught was all-out war in Gaza. Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s government framed the campaign in existential terms, often likening Hamas to the Islamic State group. Western leaders echoed this framing, effectively globalizing Israel’s fight. U.S. President Joe Biden, for instance, compared Hamas’s brutality to ISIS and pledged full support to Israel’s military campaign.
European governments also condemned Hamas unequivocally and gave Israel diplomatic cover in its retaliatory offensive. In Gaza, the result was devastating: Israeli firepower leveled whole neighborhoods and killed thousands as it hunted Hamas operatives. By January 2024, the core of Hamas’s military infrastructure was decimated or driven underground. Israeli forces moved methodically into Hamas’s strongholds – from the dense alleyways of Gaza City in the north to the tunnel networks in the south.
In essence, Israel signaled it would no longer tolerate Hamas’s rule at all, even if that meant reoccupying parts of Gaza. Defense officials openly spoke of long-term control: “The IDF will remain in any area that is conquered, and the entire Gazan population will be evacuated to areas in southern Gaza,” declared Israeli Defense Minister Yoav Gallant (later echoed by minister Israel Katz) as plans were approved for a new offensive.
This marked a stark shift from past incursions, indicating Israel’s intent to seize and hold territory in Gaza indefinitely to prevent any Hamas resurgence.
Signs of a broader campaign against Islamist forces soon emerged on multiple fronts:
- Gaza: Hamas’s governance was dismantled. Israel’s military seized control of key areas and created buffer zones, effectively shrinking the space in which Islamist militants could operate. By mid-2024, Gaza was carved up into security-controlled sectors patrolled by the Israel Defense Forces.
- Lebanon: Anticipating Hezbollah might join the fray, Israel took the fight north. Throughout 2024, skirmishes on the Israel-Lebanon border escalated into a wider conflict. Israeli strikes pounded Hezbollah rocket sites and strongholds in southern Lebanon. The outcome by late 2024 was the sidelining of Hezbollah: the Iran-backed militia suffered “devastating effects” from Israeli operations. Thousands of Hezbollah fighters were reportedly killed or incapacitated and most of its vast missile arsenal was destroyed. By November 2024, a ceasefire was reached on the Lebanon front – essentially on Israel’s terms – after Hezbollah had been bloodied into acquiescence.
- Syria: The war’s ripple effect reached Syria as well. Israel ramped up airstrikes against Iranian and Hezbollah targets there, and startlingly, the regime of Bashar al-Assad – long supported by Iran – collapsed in December 2024 amid renewed civil strife. Sensing a historic opening, Israel swiftly moved forces into the vacuum in southern Syria. Under the banner of security, Israeli troops crossed the decades-old 1974 ceasefire line and began establishing a buffer zone deep into Syrian territory. Satellite imagery revealed that between December 2024 and February 2025, Israel built at least six new military bases in the Golan demilitarized zone and even within Syria proper. Israeli officials were blunt about their intent – Defense Minister Israel Katz proclaimed that troops would remain stationed at Mount Hermon and this “security zone” “indefinitely”, dismissing any notion of a temporary presence. In parallel, the Israeli government announced it would double the settler population in the occupied Golan Heights, signaling a firm commitment to cementing control. What had been creeping annexation of the Golan over decades suddenly accelerated into a brazen extension of Israel’s reach, now extending into the water-rich province of Daraa in southern Syria under the guise of protecting local Druze communities.
- Iran: Perhaps the boldest development was the pressure brought directly against the Islamic Republic. With Hamas and Hezbollah weakened, Israel (likely with U.S. intelligence backing) struck Iranian targets more openly. In late October 2024, an air raid attributed to Israel reportedly knocked out Iran’s air-defense systems and temporarily crippled its ability to produce missiles. This was a clear message to Tehran that its era of sponsoring proxy militias with impunity was over. By early 2025, Iran’s vaunted “Axis of Resistance” – the network of militias and regimes aligned with it – was “in profound disarray”, as one analysis put it. The fall of Assad in Syria removed a key Iranian ally on Israel’s doorstep, while Hezbollah’s setback and Hamas’s eradication in Gaza left Iran with a greatly diminished ability to project influence west of its borders. The clerical regime in Tehran suddenly found itself at its weakest point in decades, facing not only military blows but growing internal dissent fueled by economic strain and the regime’s failure to aid its allies.
In all these fronts, there is a discernible pattern: a Western-backed effort to neutralize radical Islamic political power centers. The United States and European powers gave Israel near-blanket support in these campaigns, framing them as a continuation of the global war on terror – this time targeting the likes of Hamas and Hezbollah.
American officials stressed Israel’s right to self-defense and expedited shipments of advanced munitions. European leaders, while occasionally urging restraint, largely concurred that groups like Hamas and Hezbollah had to be dealt a decisive blow. In effect, October 7th provided the rationale for an ambitious project long whispered in strategic circles: to drastically weaken, if not uproot, the archipelago of Islamist militancy and anti-Western ideological influence in the Middle East. From Gaza to Beirut to Damascus and even Tehran, that project unfolded with remarkable coordination over the subsequent months.
Redrawing the Middle East
Geopolitically, the post-October 7 era has tilted in Israel’s favor in ways few imagined possible beforehand. Israel’s territory and sphere of influence are now visibly expanded under the banner of security. In Gaza, Israeli troops are entrenched in buffer zones in the north and perhaps along the Egyptian border in the south, ostensibly to prevent the smuggling of weapons.
While Israel insists it does not desire to reoccupy all of Gaza’s 2 million Palestinians, it has made clear that no armed Islamist force will be allowed to re-emerge there. Gaza’s administration is an open question – some envision a return of the Palestinian Authority or an international trusteeship – but what’s certain is that Israel holds the keys in a way it has not since it withdrew from the Strip in 2005.
Meanwhile in the north, Israel’s decades-old hold on the Golan Heights is now de facto expanding beyond the heights themselves. The chaos in Syria enabled what one might call a “creeping annexation” of parts of southern Syria. By early 2025, Israeli forces were conducting regular operations in Syrian villages adjacent to the Golan and setting up permanent infrastructure.
Checkpoints and patrol roads now cut through what used to be no-man’s land. Local Syrian communities (many of them Sunni Arab and Druze) find themselves suddenly living under the shadow of the Israeli army, their movements restricted by a new security regime. Israel has justified these moves by pointing to the vacuum left by Assad’s fall and the need to keep Iran-backed extremists at bay.
Yet the strategy aligns neatly with long-term ambitions: ensure Syria remains fragmented and weak, incapable of threatening Israel’s northern flank. In Israeli strategic thinking, a divided Syria composed of sectarian enclaves is far preferable to a resurgent, united Syrian state (even if led by a friendly government). The events of 2024–2025 have given Israel the perfect pretext to pursue that outcome openly.
From a regional balance-of-power perspective, Israel’s stature is now bolstered not just by its own actions but by the relative weakening of its foes. Hezbollah, which for decades served as a deterrent force against Israel (with its arsenal of Iranian-supplied rockets aimed at all Israeli territory), is now licking its wounds. The Lebanese Shiite militia finds itself constrained – its patron Iran is under pressure, its arsenal diminished, and its home base of Lebanon in deep economic-political crisis that makes another war undesirable to many Lebanese.
In Syria, the demise of a hostile regime and the disarray of jihadist groups have, at least temporarily, removed the threat of a Syrian front altogether. And in Gaza, Hamas – the Islamist movement that posed the most immediate militant threat – is shattered. The elimination of Hamas as a governing power in Gaza is particularly significant ideologically: it was the one Sunni Islamist movement that had achieved territorial control and popular legitimacy through elections (back in 2006) – serving as a symbol that political Islam could govern and fight Israel at the same time. Its downfall delivers a sobering message to other Islamist actors in the region.
Israel and the Sunni States
Even as the guns roared in Gaza and beyond, another quieter shift was happening in the diplomatic arena. Prior to October 7th, momentum was building for broader Arab-Israeli rapprochement – most prominently, negotiations for Saudi Arabia to recognize Israel were in the works, following the trail blazed by the Abraham Accords of 2020.
Hamas’s attack threatened to derail this trend; in the immediate aftermath, Arab governments faced overwhelming public pressure to distance themselves from Israel’s harsh response in Gaza. Indeed, the visibility of nascent ties with countries like the UAE, Bahrain, and Morocco diminished post-October 7 as images of Palestinian suffering filled the airwaves. Yet, tellingly, those new partnerships held firm at the official level. As one analysis noted, Israel’s new Arab partners remained committed to their strategic choice, even if quietly, despite popular backlash.
By late 2024, as the conflict’s dynamics turned in Israel’s favor, signs emerged that the normalization wave was not dead – merely paused. In November 2024, Morocco became the first Abraham Accords country to fully reinstate its ambassador and openly reaffirm ties with Israel (invoking the kingdom’s historic Jewish heritage as partial justification).
This move was a bellwether that the logic of the Abraham Accords was reasserting itself: for Sunni Arab regimes, aligning with Israel and the West still promises security and economic benefits that outweigh solidarity with the Palestinian cause. The UAE and Bahrain, which had never severed relations during the war, began to cautiously revive public cooperation with Israel once a degree of calm returned. Joint business forums, security dialogues, and technology exchanges that had gone temporarily quiet were restarted behind closed doors.
Egypt and Jordan, long-time peace partners with Israel, played roles mediating ceasefires and swaps – reinforcing their stake in regional stability and partnership with Israel.
It’s true that the Abraham Accords process took a hit – no new Arab state wanted to openly join in the midst of the Gaza war, and talk of a Saudi-Israeli breakthrough was shelved in late 2023. But now, with Hamas out of the equation and Iran’s influence receding, those grand bargains are back on the table.
In fact, the very outcome that Hamas sought to prevent by attacking Israel – a Saudi-Israeli rapprochement – may be more feasible in the aftermath. Riyadh has maintained a hard public line during the Gaza war, condemning Israel’s heavy-handed tactics. Yet behind the scenes, the strategic calculus of Saudi Arabia remains what it was: partnership with Israel (and by extension the U.S.) offers a strong counterweight to Iran and an opportunity for economic modernization (through foreign investment and technology) as envisaged by Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman.
Once the dust settles, the kingdom could quietly revive negotiations, especially if it can claim that its pressure helped secure some concession for the Palestinians (such as reconstruction aid or autonomy in Gaza). The question is not if Saudi Arabia will normalize with Israel, but when and how.
For the smaller Gulf states and other Muslim-majority countries that already took the leap, the events of the past year reinforced their choice. They saw that when war erupted, the U.S. and Western powers rallied unambiguously behind Israel – underscoring who their most reliable partner in the region is. It also validated their fears about Iran and extremist non-state actors: had Hamas’s attack succeeded in drawing the wider Muslim world into war with Israel, these states would have lost the stability that is so crucial to their own regimes.
Thus, they remain committed to cooperation with Israel as a cornerstone of a new Middle East. “Security cooperation is the correct choice,” one official involved in the Abraham Accords said, emphasizing that despite challenges, integrating with Israel unlocks opportunities that isolation and enmity never did. In short, the Sunni Arab establishment is closing ranks with Israel, marking a sharp divergence from the past eras when Arab unity was defined by opposition to the Zionist state.
The Palestinian cause, while not abandoned in rhetoric, is no longer the chief compass of these states’ policies. This marks a profound ideological shift: Arab leaders are effectively prioritizing state-centric interests (regime stability, economic growth, anti-Iran containment) over the transnational Islamic solidarity that groups like Hamas or the Muslim Brotherhood call for.
The Manufactured Narrative of Genocide
In the aftermath of the violence that has unfolded in Gaza, a troubling narrative has been pushed by several news outlets, particularly from Sunni-majority countries like those in the Gulf, Turkey, and certain leftist outlets. The repeated framing of the Israeli actions in Gaza as genocide has become a central narrative in both mainstream and alternative media.
This consistent emphasis on the genocide narrative—often sensationalized in headlines—has been more than just a reporting style; it’s part of a larger psychological operation, perhaps unwitting, to shape public opinion and geopolitical outcomes.
For over two years now, the phrase “genocide in Gaza” has been a constant refrain in headlines and broadcasts. Whether it’s through reports on the escalating death toll or depictions of mass destruction, the relentless media cycle has painted a grim picture of an entire population facing existential eradication. This portrayal, repeated daily across multiple media platforms, creates a powerful psychological effect on global audiences: Gaza becomes synonymous with death and annihilation, making the idea of relocation or removal from the territory appear as a tragic but inevitable outcome.
This is not merely about capturing the horror of the moment; it’s about embedding a specific solution in the minds of the international community. By hammering the genocide angle, these media outlets contribute to a narrative that Gazans—already portrayed as victims of an impending massacre—might as well be relocated, removed from Gaza, because there is no future for them in the land. The idea of them as the last vestiges of a doomed people becomes ingrained, subtly urging acceptance of their displacement as the only feasible solution.
This narrative can be seen in the diplomatic undercurrents that suggest a shift towards a “new Gaza” or even a “Gaza outside Gaza” concept—one that could involve significant international support for relocating Palestinians elsewhere in the region. In the face of repeated stories of genocide, the international community’s emotional connection to Gaza weakens, and the strategic value of Gazans remaining in the region grows more tenuous.
Thus, the narrative of genocide is not just a tool for galvanizing support for Palestinian rights or denouncing Israeli actions—it also serves a darker, more strategic purpose: to mentally and politically prepare the world for the idea that Gaza, and its people, may no longer remain where they have been for generations. By shaping public perception through this psychological operation, the media creates an environment where relocation is seen not only as acceptable but as an inevitable consequence of the tragedy.
Jolani: From Jihadist to “Respectable” Human
Perhaps the most striking illustration of Islam’s ideological reshaping is the curious case of Abu Mohammed al-Jolani in Syria. Al-Jolani was once infamous as a top commander of al-Qaeda’s Syrian franchise (the Nusra Front), a jihadist with American blood on his hands and a $10 million FBI bounty on his head.
If you had told any Western official a few years ago that this man would be seen as a potential partner – or even the leader of a post-Assad Syria – they’d have scoffed. Yet as Assad’s regime crumbled in late 2024, Jolani stepped forward into the void. His faction, rebranded as Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), had long controlled Idlib province; now HTS fighters marched into Damascus as part of the rebel coalition that toppled Assad. Jolani suddenly began a slick public relations campaign aimed at Western audiences.
Remarkably, mainstream media outlets lent him an ear. British and American press profiles painted Jolani in a new light: The Daily Telegraph dubbed him a “moderate jihadist,” and The Washington Post described him as a pragmatic, charismatic leader; CNN went so far as to portray him as a “blazer-wearing revolutionary” – literally showing him trading battlefield fatigues for a Western-style suit jacket. Rolling Stone magazine ran a feature praising his strategic acumen and willingness to renounce “global jihad” in favor of focusing on Syria’s future. The transformation in his image was stunning.
Of course, rebranding alone doesn’t change facts on the ground: Jolani’s group still enforces a hardline Islamist rule in areas it controls, and many of its fighters are former al-Qaeda or ISIS members. But the narrative shift was no accident – it mirrored a geopolitical one. With Assad (the “devil we knew”) gone, Western capitals faced the reality that an Islamist-leaning leader like Jolani was now a power broker in Syria. There were even reports of a “huge scramble” in Washington to remove HTS and Jolani from terrorism blacklists so that dialogue could open.
After investing so much in the downfall of Assad (an enemy of the West and Israel), the West found itself in an uncomfortable position: having to accept that Islamist fighters – once categorized indistinguishably as terrorists – might be the ones enforcing order in post-war Syria. Jolani astutely seized this moment, recasting himself as an enemy of ISIS and a defender of Syrian “diversity,” and offering assurances that religious minorities would be protected under his rule. Indeed, one UK article optimistically suggested he would build a new Syria respectful of minority rights.
Jolani’s case may well serve as a template for “taming” radical Islam: take a militant actor, induce them to localize their goals and moderate their image, and then integrate them into a new political order with tacit Western acceptance. It’s a playbook not unlike what happened with groups like the PLO decades ago – branded terrorists at one point, later accepted as negotiation partners once they renounced certain methods.
The difference here is the overt ideological makeover. Jolani literally changed his attire and discourse to signal a break with al-Qaeda’s transnational jihadism. The West, in turn, appears ready to forgive a lot (if not forget) in order to have a stabilizing Sunni force in Syria that is not Iran-aligned.
This is realpolitik meets religious reform: the strict Islamist ideology Jolani once espoused is being toned down for the sake of political legitimacy. And Western governments are effectively saying: If you stop calling for our death and instead focus on governing and providing stability, we can do business. It’s a pragmatic approach to dealing with political Islam – co-opt it and domesticate it, rather than fight it everywhere.
“Modernizing” Islam
The notion that Islam as a whole must “catch up” with modern norms has been a recurring theme in Western discourse, especially in the post-9/11 era. We have heard Western leaders and thinkers argue that the Muslim world needs a Reformation or Enlightenment of its own – a break from literalist, theocratic tendencies and an embrace of secular governance and liberal values.
French President Emmanuel Macron, for example, sparked controversy in 2020 when he declared that “Islam is a religion that is in crisis all over the world today,” underscoring his view that Islam needs an update to be compatible with French republican values. Former British Prime Minister Tony Blair was even more blunt, asserting that “many millions” of Muslims hold views “fundamentally incompatible with the modern world” – a stark phrasing that implied Islam must reform from within or be reformed from outside.
Such statements, while criticized as Islamophobic by some, reflected a common sentiment in Western policy circles: that Islamic societies must undergo ideological modernization to curb extremism and integrate into a globalized world order.
What we may be witnessing in the aftermath of October 7th is an attempt to force the issue of Islamic modernization through geopolitical means. Rather than waiting for a natural religious reformation, the events on the ground are engineering a new reality: Islamist groups that refuse to adapt (like Hamas or traditional Hezbollah) are being crushed or marginalized, while those willing to adapt (like a suit-wearing Jolani, or the UAE’s liberalizing leadership) are being elevated.
In Saudi Arabia, Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman has been implementing his own top-down version of reform – curbing the powers of religious police, allowing women to drive and cinemas to open, and promoting a nationalist identity over Islamist rhetoric. These changes have been warmly welcomed by Western leaders as signs that the birthplace of Islam is “moderating.”
In the UAE, a minister of tolerance talks about an Islam that embraces coexistence, and Abu Dhabi hosts interfaith summits. Even Egypt under President Abdel Fattah el-Sisi has called for a “renewal of Islamic discourse” to eliminate extremist interpretations (even as Sisi jails political Islamists en masse). In short, across the region the trend among governments friendly to the West is to reshape the face of Islam – to present a version palatable to 21st-century sensibilities and geopolitical alignments.
Western powers are actively encouraging this. The Abraham Accords themselves were as much about cultural and religious rapprochement as about diplomacy – the UAE, for instance, touts its construction of the Abrahamic Family House (a joint mosque-church-synagogue complex) as emblematic of a new, modern Islamic ethos of tolerance.
When Western officials meet their Gulf counterparts, they heap praise on Vision 2030 (Saudi) or Expo 2020 (UAE) – soft-power signals that these countries are moving “in the right direction” civilizationally. Meanwhile, voices in Western media continue to debate whether Islam can be “tamed” or reformed. There is recognition that heavy-handed outside pressure can backfire, but also a palpable impatience for change.
The aftermath of October 7th, with its brutal clarity, has arguably strengthened the hand of those in the West who argue that political Islam must be dealt with firmly. After seeing the worst attack on Israeli civilians in decades – done in the name of an extremist interpretation of Islam – even moderate Western observers might feel vindicated in demanding a tougher stance on Islamist movements. This hardening attitude dovetails with the actions on the ground: zero tolerance for groups like Hamas, fewer inhibitions about using force, and open support for Middle Eastern partners who crack down on Islamists (whether it’s Israel bombing Gaza or Egypt outlawing the Muslim Brotherhood).
A Tamed Islam or a New Transformation?
All these threads lead to a profound question: Is this the moment that Islam’s political influence is being decisively tamed and reshaped to fit into a Western-approved world order? The post-October 7 landscape suggests to some that yes, the dominoes are finally falling. An Israeli-Sunni alliance now implicitly stands against Shia revolutionary Iran and against Sunni jihadist radicalism alike.
Militant Islamist movements are at their nadir: their territories lost, leaders killed or in hiding, their narrative of unbroken “resistance” in tatters. Secular or moderate regimes hold the upper hand across the region, from Rabat to Riyadh. One could argue that the Islamic world is undergoing an enforced aggiornamento – a bringing up to date – in its geopolitical alignment and perhaps in religious interpretation as well.
The old romantic notion of an “Islamic Ummah” united against Western imperialism appears more fractured than ever when Arab states prefer doing business with Israel. Perhaps future historians will indeed mark 2023–2025 as the turning point when political Islam as a mobilizing force was dealt a blow from which it never fully recovered.
And yet, history has a way of surprising us. Efforts to forcibly reshape ideologies often produce unintended consequences. The suppression of one form of Islamic extremism can give rise to another in mutated form – we saw this when Al-Qaeda was largely crushed only to see ISIS emerge from the ashes, even more virulent and bloodthirsty. If Hamas and Hezbollah are neutralized, it doesn’t automatically erase the grievances or aspirations that gave them life.
The Palestinian quest for dignity and statehood, for example, may not vanish with Hamas’s tunnels. If peaceful avenues toward justice are not found, new movements could take up the mantle – perhaps less overtly religious, or conversely even more hardline and desperate. Likewise, Iran’s regional project may be down but the Islamic Republic has weathered storms before; it could double down on nuclear ambitions as its other tools are blunted.
Within the Muslim world, the sight of Arab rulers cozying up to Israel while Palestinians suffer may yet galvanize a backlash from below – Islamism has always drawn energy from the narrative of corrupt regimes betraying the faith. That dynamic is still very much alive, even if leaderless at the moment.
So, is Islam being tamed, or is it transforming? It might be both. The political expression of Islam is being constrained by force right now, but it could reappear in new, unpredictable guises. Perhaps we will see more “Jolanis” – former radicals reinventing themselves as local strongmen with Islamic flavor, acceptable to the global community. Or perhaps a grassroots reformist Islamic movement will emerge that truly embraces modern values without Western imposition, undermining extremists’ appeal.
On the other hand, continued external pressure could also foster a sense of humiliation and lead to a revival of radicalism years down the line, as a form of pushback. The ideological struggle within Islam – between reformists and reactionaries, between global jihadists and national pragmatists – is far from over. Western leaders often speak as if Islam’s evolution is a one-way trajectory toward liberal moderation, but reality is cyclical and complex.
What is clear is that October 7, 2023, and its aftermath have triggered a new chapter. The Middle East’s geopolitical chessboard has been reset in significant ways, largely to the detriment of Islamist movements that once shaped the region’s conflicts. The coming years will test whether this new order can solidify into a lasting peace and genuine modernization, or whether it will provoke a counter-reaction. Is this the final crusade that subdues political Islam, allowing the region to move on to a post-Islamist era? Or will the very act of trying to “tame” Islam’s role in politics unleash new forces that we have yet to comprehend?