The G7’s recent statement on the Iran-Israel conflict—with its predictable calls for “de-escalation” and a Gaza ceasefire—reveals more than just diplomatic boilerplate. It exposes a fundamental crisis in Western strategic thinking that threatens our long-term security.
This reflexive appeal for calm, now echoed across the political spectrum from Emmanuel Macron to Tucker Carlson, has become less a policy than a psychological crutch, one that prioritizes the comfort of Western elites over the hard realities of global power dynamics.
Yet Israel’s remarkable military achievements in recent days, from dismantling Hamas to striking Iran’s nuclear infrastructure, should serve as a wake-up call: the age of risk-averse diplomacy is over.
The roots of the West’s de-escalation dogma lie in understandable wariness. The quagmires of Iraq and Afghanistan left deep scars on Western consciousness, fostering a generation of policymakers who see military action as inherently suspect. The nation building of the Bush years has been replaced by the neo-isolationism of the contemporary populists and the relativistic pacifism of global elites.
What may have begun as prudent skepticism has hardened into strategic paralysis. Consider the cognitive dissonance in current Western positions: Leaders who rightly cheer Ukraine’s strikes on Russian soil suddenly lose their nerve when Israel targets Iranian nuclear facilities. This inconsistency reveals de-escalation as less a coherent strategy than a therapeutic mantra for societies that would rather not confront unpleasant truths.
Israel’s response since October 7 demolishes the de-escalation orthodoxy. Faced with existential threats from Hamas, Hezbollah, and Iran, it has achieved in months what most analysts considered impossible—degrading terrorist infrastructure while avoiding regional conflagration. Most strikingly, Israel’s surgical strikes on Iran occurred after years of failed diplomacy and International Atomic Energy Agency warnings about Tehran’s nuclear progress.
The lesson is unambiguous: when democracies hesitate, autocrats advance. Iran’s nuclear program wasn’t halted by UN resolutions or EU mediation, but by precise military action that the “de-escalation” crowd would have reflexively condemned.
Canada’s approach epitomizes this strategic confusion. Sheltered by geography and U.S. protection, we’ve developed a foreign policy that mistakes platitudes for statecraft. Our officials speak of “balance” and “restraint” while avoiding moral clarity, as if calling for all sides to stand down somehow constitutes a position. This is what causes our new foreign affairs minister to issue statements characterizing Israel and Iran as essentially equal parties.
Prime Minister Carney’s commitment to NATO spending targets, while commendable, rings hollow when paired with such intellectual timidity. What value are advanced fighter jets if we lack the conviction to identify friends and adversaries? What’s the point if all circumstances and conflicts are equally worthy of our censure?
The de-escalation instinct reflects deeper Western malaise. Our societies, rich and risk-averse, struggle to comprehend nations that face immediate existential threats. Israel, by contrast, combines its security mindset with societal vitality—high birthrates, technological innovation, and civic resilience that put our own social stagnation to shame. One might even argue that there’s an interrelationship between the two. Israel’s vitality, its anti-decadence, is actually a reflection of its exposure to real threat.
This isn’t an argument for militarism. Prudent statesmanship requires proportionality and restraint. But true peace often demands the willingness to fight for it, a lesson we absorbed in 1939 but seem to have forgotten. The post-Cold War fantasy of perpetual stability through dialogue lies shattered in Ukraine’s trenches and Gaza’s rubble. Autocrats from Moscow to Tehran have weaponized Western aversion to conflict, using our fear of escalation as leverage.
The path forward requires three shifts. First, we must abandon the fiction that all conflicts demand “balanced” responses. Some regimes—Putin’s Russia, the Iranian theocracy—are not moral equals to their democratic adversaries. Second, Canada should study Israel’s security model not for replication, but for inspiration: how to combine military capability with strategic clarity. Finally, we must recognize that de-escalation cannot be the default position in a world where adversaries view concession as weakness.
The stakes extend beyond geopolitics. Israel’s example challenges Western societies mired in self-doubt and declining dynamism. Its ability to confront threats reflects the same cultural vitality that drives its economic and demographic resilience. As Canada debates its global role, we might ask: Do we want to be spectators to history, or shapers of it? The de-escalation dogma offers the comfort of passivity. But security—like freedom—requires the courage to choose sides.
Generative AI assisted in the production of this article.
