Two’s a crowd: the strategy of forward defence in the Middle East

Arming proxies and launching pre-emptive strikes was Iran’s ‘forward strategy’ model since the devastating Iran-Iraq War of 1980-88. Then, from October 2023, Israel copied it. A recipe for disaster?

Protesters wave Iranian and Hezbollah flags during a rally at Beirut airport on February 15, 2025. Iran's strategy of using militias is now in tatters.
AFP
Protesters wave Iranian and Hezbollah flags during a rally at Beirut airport on February 15, 2025. Iran's strategy of using militias is now in tatters.

Two’s a crowd: the strategy of forward defence in the Middle East

The Middle East is in a state of suspended animation, neither plunged into total war nor buoyed by enduring peace. Within this uneasy equilibrium, all await the next moves by the protagonists—the United States, Israel, and Iran—as the dust settles on the 12-Day War of June 2025, in which they all took part. Also waiting are Syria and Lebanon, where Iran’s fading footprint could presage a more viable future.

What makes the current period especially dangerous is the collision of Israel’s and Iran’s 'forward defence' strategies, each rooted in the belief that projecting power beyond their borders is essential to securing the homeland. The success or otherwise of these strategies is critical not only for the future of Israel and Iran, but also for the trajectory of the broader Middle East.

For decades, the region had been sustained by a fragile (and often false) sense of stability. Prior to the 7 October 2023 attacks on Israel by Hamas, Iran and Israel shared an interest in avoiding direct conflict, which lent a modicum of stability to the region. But equally, neither was interested in diplomacy and peace-making, as exemplified by Iran’s eliminationist rhetoric aimed at Israel, and by Israel’s resistance to any American diplomatic initiative with Iran, whether that be through Donald Trump or Barack Obama.

Asymmetric deterrence

This ‘no war, no peace’ reality between Iran and Israel was supported by two very different foreign policy models prior to 7 October 2023. Iran’s forward defence model was designed to defend the homeland by projecting power into the broader region through a dynamic network of militias, like Hamas, Hezbollah, the Hashd al-Shabi in Iraq, and the Houthis in Yemen. Over time, as more of the region fell into civil war, Iran’s defensive strategy morphed into offensive policies, juxtaposed against Israel’s 40-year-old foreign policy model of deterrence based on a qualitative military advantage.

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Over time, Iran's strategy became increasingly offensive, whereas Israel's was largely one of deterrence.

Prior to 7 October, there was an asymmetric edifice of deterrence, consisting of a mosaic of strategic calculations. Israel’s own version of ‘forward defence’ was in evidence as far back as 1956 in the Suez War against Egypt, then again in wars in 1967 and 1982. With its borders more secure after the peace treaty with Egypt, Israel relied more on conventional deterrence.

Iranian strategic thinkers, by contrast, having internalised the trauma of the 1980-88 Iran-Iraq War, developed the doctrine of forward defence. To avoid fighting wars on its own territory, it would cultivate strategic depth abroad using a network of militias. Iran’s Quds Force, led by General Qassem Soleimani (killed by the US in 2020), wove Iran into the political, military, social and religious fabric of Syria, Iraq, and Lebanon. In contrast to Israel’s more static model, Iran’s was dynamic and changing, incorporating both defensive and offensive goals.

For decades, the region was sustained by a fragile (and often false) sense of stability, Iran and Israel sharing an interest in avoiding direct conflict

The genius of Iran's militia network was that it posed challenges to Israel while avoiding direct conflict and, at the same time, giving Iran plausible deniability. Iran portrayed this as a defensive necessity, and as a means of supporting the Palestinians. For years, this formula provided both pressure and protection: Iran could escalate tensions indirectly through its proxies without provoking full-scale direct retaliation from Israel. In other words, it embodied a modicum of strategic ambiguity.

Collapse of Ambiguity

The unsteady equilibrium between Iran and Israel quickly unravelled after 7 October. Suddenly, "no war, no peace" became "no peace". With this Iran, lost its earlier benefit of strategic ambiguity of avoiding peace but also avoiding outright war. When Hezbollah and the Houthis began firing at Israel from Lebanon and Yemen respectively, Iran's open rhetorical support for their actions marked a watershed moment, in that it led Israel to drop its 40-year-old 'deterrence and containment' strategy for its original 'forward defence' posture.

This (old but) new model involved seeing Israel's own security as dependent on regional power projection and pre-emptive action. From this came its attacks on Hamas, Hezbollah, the Houthis, and Syria, resulting in the deaths of tens of thousands of Palestinians in Gaza, and thousands more in Lebanon, Yemen, and Syria combined. Yet more was to follow. In 2024, Israel and Iran traded direct military strikes not once but twice, having avoided doing so for decades. In 2025, Israel launched punishing military attacks on Iran.

Atta Kenare/AFP
An Iranian man holds a portrait of Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei as people celebrate a ceasefire between Iran and Israel at Enghlab Square in the capital Tehran on June 24, 2025.

Suddenly, Israel's forward defence model was being accompanied by comments from Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu about "changing the face of the Middle East". The effects on Iran and its strategy were stunning. Tehran's network of militias quickly became liabilities. Instead of creating strategic depth that protected the homeland, Iran's support for the militias was bringing destruction to its door, with Israel now operating over Iranian territory.

Strategic role reversal

What has emerged is an increasingly dangerous convergence of two competing 'forward defence' doctrines. In June 2025, Israel attacked Iran's military and nuclear infrastructure over 12 days (aka 'the 12-Day War'), with US support. In doing so, it sought to pre-empt threats through active power projection rather than a more static containment. However, there is now the temptation to overreach, to seek not just deterrence but transformation. Forward defence, when practiced by both sides, magnifies the risks of entanglement, miscalculation, and escalation.

The result is a strategic role reversal. Iran, once having accrued a region-wide network of influence, has been forced into a defensive crouch. Although its capacity to project power has been degraded, the acknowledged importance of forward defence remains strong, seared in the fires of the Iran-Iraq war of the 1980s, and more recently, in the fires of June 2025.

AP
A billboard displaying photos of senior Iranian leaders and scientists killed in Israeli strikes, Tehran, June 13, 2025.

But Iran is now reactive, rather than proactive. It is having to adapt to a world in which it no longer has the influence it once did. It will likely try to reassert itself regionally in new ways. The danger is that it tries to resurrect its militia alliance, to recover what was lost. Even if it does, it is unlikely to regain the deterrence it had before. Talk today is of Iran making a dash for a nuclear weapon—what some call 'Plan B'.

Regional implications

This strategic shift returns the Middle East to a Hobbesian logic. An English political philosopher writing in the 17th century, Thomas Hobbes considered (in his most famous book, Leviathan) what life would be like without government, a condition he called the 'state of nature'. With no culture, no industry, no imports and no knowledge, he felt there would soon be "war of all against all," leaving man to live "in continual fear, and danger of violent death". In short, life would be "solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short".

This is now a Hobbesian Middle East—one of fear, mistrust, and self-help. While the region has always lacked effective frameworks for de-escalation, most recent conflict has been indirect, waged via proxies in failed states like Syria, Lebanon, Iraq and Yemen. Now it is more direct and open. Furthermore, both Iran and Israel are operating in a security-first paradigm, where military calculations eclipse diplomatic possibilities.

English political philosopher Thomas Hobbes said without government, life would be "solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short". This is now a Hobbesian Middle East

The costs of direct confrontation between two regional powers are immense. Iran's forward defence strategy has drained its economy and alienated its population, while Israel's forward defence could erode its democracy, cost it allies, and invite retaliation, even motivating Iran to pursue a nuclear weapon.

Diplomacy as necessity

The implications of a collision of forward defence strategies goes beyond just a risk of renewed military escalation; it also risks the region's future. Forward defence, whether achieved through proxies or pre-emptive action, is dangerous and ultimately unsustainable without a political horizon.

Getty Images
An Iranian navy warship during a military exercise in the Gulf, near the strategic Strait of Hormuz in southern Iran.

The Middle East now faces a stark choice: spiral deeper into direct conflict between two capable military powers, or invest meaningfully in diplomacy and a regional security architecture. The region has long relied on third-party mediation. Ownership of a peace process by regional powers is long overdue. The Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) states, Turkey, Egypt, and even Iraq have roles to play, as do multilateral institutions such as the United Nations.

The Middle East is economically interdependent and facing demographic pressures. It needs a new strategic paradigm that goes beyond forward defence. With strategic ambiguity now dead, Iran must explore diplomatic avenues not merely to offset Israeli power projection but to recalibrate in a changing Middle East, while Israel must consider whether long-term security is better served through military or diplomatic means.

Having supported Israel's strategic shift, Washington must now reinvest in diplomacy (if willing and able). Quiet backchannels, robust negotiations over the nuclear file, and support for regional security frameworks can create space for de-escalation. American mediation hinges on its ability to speak hard truths to Israel and Iran.

A strategic compact

Israel vs Iran is not just a battle of militaries but of doctrines. Iran's forward defence, born from the trauma of the Iran-Iraq war in the 1980s, now needs urgent review after the degradation of its militias, direct attacks by Israel and the US, and Israel's return to a forward defence model after four decades. Likewise, Israel's forward defence—also born of deep insecurity and threat—is now powered by a mix of threat and opportunity to shape the region.

Neither Israeli nor Iranian foreign defence can deliver durable security; both risk perpetuating a cycle of retaliation, entrenchment, and miscalculation. When both sides embrace forward defence, the result is not balance but a high-risk formula for continuous escalation and regional instability.

A more sustainable regional order will require a new strategic compact: one that blends security with diplomacy, deterrence with incentives, and national interest with regional cooperation. The challenge is immense, but the alternatives—continued suspended animation or catastrophic escalation—are far worse.

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