From covert to overt: Netanyahu's Doha strike is telling
His emerging strategy shows a willingness to gamble on high-profile assassinations, even at the expense of diplomatic blowback, regional stability, and fragile negotiations
Jack GUEZ / AFP
A portrait of Israel's Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu hangs during an anti-government protest calling for action to secure the release of Israeli hostages in Tel Aviv on March 29, 2025.
From covert to overt: Netanyahu's Doha strike is telling
In 1997, a younger Benjamin Netanyahu ordered the assassination of the newly appointed head of Hamas’s political bureau in exile, Khaled Meshaal. Mossad agents were sent to Amman to carry out the operation, using a potent poison that could kill through simple skin contact.
The operation went awry. The seemingly minor mishap that was used to deliver the poison—involving a shaken can of soda—was noticed by one of Meshaal’s bodyguards, and the two Mossad agents were detained by Jordanian Police.
The incident created a serious diplomatic crisis: Jordan had signed a peace treaty with Israel just three years earlier, and made clear its territory was to be a “red line” where Israeli assassinations would be off limits. The Jordanian King was furious and only agreed to defuse the crisis (and release the Mossad agents) against significant Israeli compromises, including the release of Hamas’s founder and spiritual leader, Sheikh Ahmed Yassin, and the transfer of the antidote for the poison.
The 1997 botched assassination bears some resemblance to the Israeli strike against Qatar this week, which sought to decapitate the movement. Both operations were meant to be retaliation for a Hamas attack—the 1997 attempt coming two months after a suicide bombing in Jerusalem, while this year’s attack came just moments after Hamas officially claimed responsibility for a shooting attack inside a bus in the same city.
In both cases—nearly three decades apart—Netanyahu chose to disregard the diplomatic fallout of the operation. The 1997 attempt threatened to undermine fragile ties with Jordan, while this year’s strike in Doha provoked an outcry among Gulf leaders—including in two countries of particular importance to Israel: the UAE (one of only two states to have normalised relations with Israel) and Saudi Arabia, which Israel has long regarded as “next in line” despite Riyadh’s evident reluctance.
Where the 1997 botched attack in Amman was covert, the 2025 attack in Qatar was overt, signalling its effort to weaken Hamas and warn states that shelter it
Far from covert
This year's attack in Doha stands, however, in stark contrast with the 1997 attempt and other less "overt" Israeli operations of the same kind, including the killing of the co-founder of Hamas's military wing in Dubai in 2010, carried out by a team of covert Mossad operatives.
In Doha, Israel used fighter jets to deliver 10 missiles, rocking the Qatari capital and even killing a member of the country's security forces. This raises the question of whether the modus operandi was a message in itself—a warning to future countries that may consider hosting Hamas that wherever the group goes, war follows. This message further hits a nerve in the Gulf, as countries of the region have sought to distance themselves from the conflicts of the wider Middle East.
The strike also cast a long shadow on the future of negotiations to secure a Gaza ceasefire/hostage-release deal, with some families of hostages expressing dismay and fear that the strike was effectively a death sentence for their loved ones.
Reports in Israel have claimed that multiple figures within the Israeli apparatus, including the head of Mossad, opposed the timing of the attack, which was sure to derail a renewed US push for a diplomatic resolution to the war. One narrative justifying the attack claims that the Hamas officials present at the meeting in Doha were in fact "hardliners" who were opposed to a deal.
For his part, Netanyahu claimed the attack could help end the war and bring the hostages home. The same claim that the assassination targeted a "roadblock" to a deal was given by outlets and analysts close to Netanyahu when Ismail Haniyeh was killed. Netanyahu himself made claims that the killing of Hamas chief Yahya Sinwar would also help secure the release of the hostages—yet here we are nearly a year after the death of the mastermind of the October 7 attack.
Supporters of the hostages hold placards during a demonstration calling for their release outside the Ministry of Defence in Tel Aviv on October 17, 2024.
Hardened stance
The strike appears to be in line with the toughening of the Israeli position. Israel has recently shifted its negotiating stance: While it was previously looking to secure a temporary ceasefire that could potentially be turned into a long-term one, it has recently shifted to demand a permanent end to the war that would also include the demilitarisation of Hamas—something that the Israeli PM could portray as what he calls a "total victory".
The problem is that this is a tall order—even nearly two years into the conflict. Hamas has always prioritised its military wing over its political one. And given that Hamas has been seeking to return to its roots as an insurgent group rather than as a political power, Netanyahu has looked for ways to pile pressure on the group, including by threatening a large operation to fully take over Gaza City.
However, by the time the airstrike was launched, those threats had yet to deliver results. While Hamas may have been willing to consider an agreement, demilitarisation was still a red line.
Not only that, but the Israeli army leadership has been dragging its feet, understanding the risks of a large-scale operation that may not lead to the deal Netanyahu wants, but will surely lead to some form of "mission creep", higher casualty rates in the military, and a growing insurgency.
A damaged building following an Israeli attack on Hamas leaders, in Doha, Qatar, September 9, 2025.
Willingness to gamble
As a result, Netanyahu may have sought to press on using other means—namely, a more direct strike against the Hamas leadership, to underscore that the only way the group can stay alive is to negotiate. It's also clear that Netanyahu knew the risks, both when it came to the possibility that the strike would delay any agreement, endangering the hostages, as well as the international blowback.
Ultimately, the Doha strike underscores both the continuity and the escalation of Netanyahu's approach to Hamas: a willingness to gamble on high-profile assassinations even at the expense of diplomatic relationships, regional stability, and fragile negotiations.
Where the 1997 botched attempt in Amman was covert and constrained, the 2025 attack in Qatar was overt and forceful, signalling not just an effort to weaken Hamas but to send a message to states that shelter it. The lack of clarity on the results of the strike adds to the uncertainty, but the costs are already apparent—hostage families fear for their loved ones, Israel's allies express alarm, and the prospects for a ceasefire grow dimmer.