Fragile Ceasefire: Trump Manages Wars from Afar while Netanyahu Faces Limits of Power

 

The ceasefire in Lebanon is no longer seen as an isolated event, but rather as a repeated version of the Gaza model: conditional calm, postponed withdrawal, and a conflict managed rather than resolved. In this context, Israeli analysts approach the scene with a comparison to the Gaza Strip, where the calm remains stuck under Israeli constraints and conditions, especially regarding the withdrawal from areas still under Israeli military control. This comparison does not stop at the borders of these arenas; it reveals a broader pattern that is repeating itself on multiple fronts.

The truces witnessed in Lebanon, Gaza, and Iran today are merely a new form of conflict management, rather than an end to it. Instead of stable political settlements, a series of fragile ceasefires, which rapidly erode, keeps the region in a state of postponed ignition, with no end to the war in sight.

In this context, the role of U.S. President Donald Trump stands out as a player who intervenes to temporarily close fronts more than he succeeds in producing lasting solutions. Less than a day after imposing a ceasefire in Lebanon, he announced that he had prevented Israel from continuing its bombing there, in a move that reflects a new pattern of direct U.S. intervention in managing Israeli military operations.

This intervention is not isolated. Trump, who presents himself as one who "ended wars," is amassing an increasingly imaginative record of "closed" conflicts, even if these closures are nothing more than a temporary freezing of hostilities. From the Gulf to Lebanon, passing through Gaza, the model seems to be the same: rapid political pressure, ceasefire, and then leaving the issues unresolved at their roots.

In Gaza specifically, Trump had previously allowed Israel to expand its military operations before the scene turned when Tel Aviv failed to achieve its announced central goal: the complete elimination of Hamas. At that point, Israel was pushed towards a partial settlement that resulted in a ceasefire and a prisoner exchange deal, which remains fragile to this day.

Today, the equation is repeating itself in Lebanon and Iran. Israel enters the war with maximum objectives, often defined by Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu: complete military resolution, or reshaping the security environment by force. But as complexities on the ground accumulate, it appears that these objectives gradually erode, revealing Washington's role as a "pressure release valve" for wars rather than as the engineer of definitive solutions.

In Lebanon, despite Israel’s significant military superiority regarding casualty balance, Hezbollah does not appear to be in a position of political defeat that would drive it to surrender. The party refuses to accept a permanent Israeli presence in the south and also rejects returning to the pre-escalation arrangements, making any future agreement inherently fragile and liable to explode at any moment.

The same situation is repeated in Gaza, where despite the severe blows received by Hamas, the movement is still capable of reestablishing its presence within Palestinian society, thus preventing the achievement of the "decisive victory" promised by Israeli leadership.

This contradiction between military strength and political outcome is at the heart of the current crisis. Israel achieves a clear battlefield superiority, but it does not translate into stable political settlements. The result is the continuation of a "frozen war" condition, where major operations cease, yet daily friction remains, reproducing the very reasons for the war itself.

In this vacuum, Trump operates as a mediator imposing the rhythm: he stops the war when it expands too much, and leaves it when it can be used as a pressure tool. However, this role, despite its tactical effectiveness, does not produce long-term stability but deepens the logic of crisis management instead of solving it.

On the Israeli domestic front, this equation mirrors as an escalating political crisis. Netanyahu finds himself facing an increasing gap between the political rhetoric that promises "absolute victory" and a reality that allows only for partial achievements. Here, the "military success" becomes a political burden that requires ongoing justification before the public.

Meanwhile, the Israeli military recognizes that whatever has been achieved on the ground may open the door to subsequent political arrangements, but at the same time does not guarantee the prevention of new cycles of fighting, as long as its forces remain within direct contact areas with Hezbollah in Lebanon or with Hamas in Gaza.

As for Iran, it remains the most complex link in this scene. Entering negotiations from a position of relative weakness, it simultaneously retains strategic pressure tools, from the Strait of Hormuz to networks of regional influence. Between the pressure of sanctions and promises of U.S. understandings, negotiations turn into a delicate balancing act that does not seem amenable to a quick resolution.

What is happening today is not an end to wars, but rather a reshaping of how they are managed. The ceasefire is no longer a moment of peace but a tool within the very structure of war: used to freeze it at times, and to restart it at other times. Instead of being an entry point for political settlements, it transforms into a mechanism for managing violence and postponing its next explosion. In this context, it does not seem that anyone possesses a project to end the conflict, as much as everyone possesses tools to sustain it—between military superiority that does not translate into stability, and political leaderships that raise the ceiling of objectives more than reality permits.