No One Left to Veto

A Polish lawmaker held up an Israeli flag defaced with a Nazi symbol inside parliament. Not online. Not anonymous. Inside the chamber. It was Holocaust Remembrance Day. At Auschwitz, survivors were marching.

The same day, Italy moved.

Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni, one of Israel's most reliable defenders in Europe and a political ally of Donald Trump, announced the suspension of Italy's defence cooperation agreement with Israel. She cited Israeli warning shots fired at Italian UN peacekeepers in Lebanon. Israel's foreign ministry dismissed the move as inconsequential, calling the agreement a memorandum 'that never contained any substantive content.' The response is now a reflex. When Germany halted arms exports, Israel called it manageable. When Spain and Ireland recognised Palestine, Israel called it symbolic. When 142 countries voted at the UN General Assembly for Palestinian statehood, Israel dismissed the count. When 15 Western-oriented states that had once abstained on or opposed such resolutions voted in favour, Israel said nothing had changed.

Everything has changed.

The diplomatic architecture that once insulated Israel from accountability is dismantling piece by piece. The EU-Israel Association Agreement, which governs trade between Israel and its largest economic partner, faces unprecedented scrutiny. Of the 193 UN member states, 145 now recognise Palestinian statehood. Five European countries withdrew from Eurovision rather than share a stage with Israel. Netanyahu has responded to each development by calling for Israel to become a self-reliant 'super-Sparta.' The posture holds only if the isolation is temporary.

The evidence now suggests it is structural.

But the deeper exposure is in Washington, and the Iran war has made it visible in a way no previous episode managed.

A Pew Research Center survey conducted in late March found that 60% of Americans hold an unfavourable view of Israel, up nearly 20 points since 2022. The 'very unfavourable' figure has almost tripled over the same period. Among Americans under 50, majorities in both parties now rate Israel negatively. Among Republicans under 45, 61% say they would prefer a candidate who reduces support for Israel. That number, inside the party of Trump, is not a protest figure. It is a signal.

Only 24% of Americans believe the decision to strike Iran has been worth it. A Reuters/Ipsos poll from March found 43% in outright opposition. The CIA director reportedly described Netanyahu's pitch to Trump for regime change in Tehran as 'farcical'. Secretary of State Marco Rubio was more colourful. General Dan Caine, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, summarised the dynamic plainly: 'They know they need us, and that's why they're hard-selling.' Trump sided with Netanyahu anyway.

That is the real consequence of the Iran gamble, and it stretches far beyond Trump. The war has demonstrated, for any American politician paying attention, that Israeli objectives and American interests are not the same thing. It has shown what it costs domestically to commit to a war that most Americans see as a war of choice, not necessity. The next president who considers standing unconditionally beside Israel in a military confrontation will calculate that cost. And the one after that.

No future president will make the same offer Trump made.

Israel has answered every rebuke with contempt and every warning with dismissal. It is running out of things to dismiss. The room is turning. And there is no one left to turn it back.