On October 1, 2024, the balance of power in the Middle East shifted. For the first time in decades, Iran launched a direct and massive missile assault on Israel. Roughly 200 ballistic missiles thundered across the region, most intercepted by Israel’s formidable Iron Dome and David’s Sling systems. But a few slipped through, striking critical military and intelligence targets, including the Negev Desert’s Nevatim Airbase and reportedly damaging the Mossad headquarters in Tel Aviv.
The strike was unprecedented—not only in scale but in the symbolism it carried. Iran’s Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei called it a “measured response” to the assassinations of Hamas leader Ismail Haniyeh and Hezbollah’s secretary-general Sayyed Hasan Nasrallah, killings widely attributed to Israeli intelligence services, along with Israel’s sweeping ground campaign in Lebanon. It marked a turning point—one that would test Israel’s deterrence posture and force its leaders to weigh a dramatic escalation: a potential military strike on Iran’s nuclear infrastructure.
Behind the scenes, a complex, high-stakes debate was unfolding.
From the first moments after the October 1 attack, Israel’s security establishment was thrust into war mode. Emergency meetings were convened in Tel Aviv. Defense Minister Yoav Gallant, a former general and hardliner, pushed aggressively for a retaliatory strike that would leave no doubt about Israeli resolve. He found strong support in IDF Chief of Staff Herzi Halevi, who argued that Iran’s direct assault constituted a strategic threshold being crossed.
For years, Israel had prepared for the possibility of hitting Iran’s nuclear program. Detailed plans had been drawn up, flight routes calculated, refueling logistics tested. Yet, internal divisions had always prevented action. But now, said one Israeli military source quoted in Haaretz, “the logic of restraint had collapsed.”
Initially hesitant, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu began to shift. Having long opposed Iran’s nuclear ambitions, Netanyahu now appeared ready to act. By late October, he was reportedly aligned with Gallant and Halevi, greenlighting attacks on Iranian air defenses in a series of precision strikes across Tehran, Khuzestan, and Ilam provinces on October 26. These targeted Iran’s S-300 systems, long viewed as key shields protecting its nuclear facilities.
But that wasn’t the limit of what was being considered.
At several security cabinet meetings, officials examined more ambitious options—including strikes on the underground Fordow and Natanz nuclear enrichment sites. Mossad Director David Barnea, while supportive of a strong military response, urged caution and underscored the importance of U.S. backing.
“Operational success is not just about firepower,” Barnea reportedly told the cabinet. “It’s about international legitimacy and long-term consequences.”
Not everyone in Israel’s leadership supported escalation. Benny Gantz and Gadi Eisenkot, former generals and key figures in Netanyahu’s emergency unity government during the 2023 Lebanon conflict, had resigned from the coalition by mid-2024. Still, their voices carried weight.
Gantz publicly warned that an Israeli strike on Iran’s nuclear program could trigger regional war.
“We have to ask: What comes after the airstrikes? What is the plan if Hezbollah launches a second front? What if the Houthis attack Red Sea shipping?” Gantz said in a televised statement.
Their concerns weren’t unfounded. Israeli military intelligence had assessed that while Iran’s conventional military was under pressure, its capacity for asymmetric warfare—via proxies like Hezbollah, militias in Iraq, and the Houthis in Yemen—remained significant.
A war with Iran wouldn’t be a single strike. It would be a prolonged, multidimensional conflict. That weighed heavily on parts of Israel’s political establishment.
A critical variable in Israel’s calculations has always been the United States. And while Israel possesses formidable air power and intelligence capabilities, it has historically relied on American support—both militarily and diplomatically—for operations of this magnitude.
That support, however, was not guaranteed.
In the weeks after the Iranian missile attack, the Biden administration—had it still been in office—might have counseled restraint, much like the Obama White House had during past Israeli discussions about Iran. But this was now the second Trump administration, following his re-election in November 2024.
Inside the Trump White House, the mood was fractured.
According to reporting by The New York Times, CENTCOM Commander General Michael Kurilla and National Security Adviser Michael Waltz were open to limited U.S. involvement in an Israeli operation. Trump’s Defense Secretary, retired General Keith Kellogg, was also reportedly in favor of “restoring deterrence through strength.”
But President Trump ultimately chose diplomacy. In a now-famous statement to reporters outside the White House, Trump said, “I think Iran has a chance to have a great country and to live happily without death. That’s my first option. If there’s a second option, I think it would be very bad for Iran.”
Despite previously withdrawing from the JCPOA in 2018 and championing “maximum pressure” on Iran, Trump now appeared eager to craft a new deal—what aides called “JCPOA 2.0.” He directed State Department officials to initiate backchannel talks with Tehran.
Trump’s stance frustrated Israeli officials, who viewed the existing nuclear deal as fatally flawed and any new agreement as a delay tactic that allowed Iran to keep advancing its program. Netanyahu, in response, made it clear: any future deal must resemble the 2003 Libyan model, in which U.S. forces physically dismantled nuclear infrastructure.
Despite the airstrikes on October 26, Israel refrained from attacking Iran’s nuclear facilities. The reasons were strategic—and pragmatic.
First, Israel had improved its ability to penetrate Iran’s S-300 defenses, thanks in part to cyber operations and aerial reconnaissance. But full destruction of underground sites like Fordow would require sustained bombing—possibly over days—not just a one-time strike.
Second, Iranian retaliation could be devastating. While Tehran might not match Israel’s precision, it could unleash a wave of proxy attacks—from Hezbollah rockets in the north to cyberattacks on Israeli infrastructure. The risk of escalation spiraling out of control loomed large.
Third, Israel still hoped that U.S. involvement—or at least approval—could be secured. Without that, a solo operation risked international backlash and uncertain military results.
Instead, Israeli leadership opted for a limited counterstrike that focused on degrading Iran’s missile and air defense infrastructure, preserving options for future action without forcing immediate escalation.
Intelligence estimates suggest that Iran continues to enrich uranium well beyond the limits set by the JCPOA. As of late 2024, Iran reportedly possessed enough highly enriched uranium to produce several nuclear bombs, though weaponization—a complex process involving miniaturization and delivery systems—could take another 1–2 years.
Yet Iran maintains that its program is peaceful. It insists that its missile barrage was defensive and proportional to Israeli aggression in Lebanon and the targeted killings of its regional allies.
Tehran, for its part, has been evasive but firm. It has kept inspectors from certain facilities, stalled on data-sharing, and refused to cooperate fully with the IAEA. Still, Iranian officials claim they are open to renewed negotiations—so long as sanctions are lifted and their sovereignty respected.
This stance creates a difficult paradox for both Israel and the United States. The more Tehran pushes the boundaries of enrichment, the more urgent a response becomes. But the closer either country comes to acting militarily, the more they risk triggering a full-blown regional war.
As of April 2025, the situation remains precarious. Israel has made clear that if nuclear negotiations fail, it reserves the right to act unilaterally. Officials have hinted that new intelligence could tip the balance, especially if Iran moves toward weaponization.
The U.S. remains split. While Trump continues to push for a revised deal, hardliners in his cabinet—and many in Congress—believe Tehran is simply buying time. Senate hearings in March 2025 reflected this division, with several GOP senators urging military options to remain “on the table.”
Meanwhile, a third round of nuclear talks is scheduled for later this month in Vienna. But few expect a breakthrough.
Inside Israel, the debate over whether to strike continues. Netanyahu, ever the strategist, seems to be playing a long game—keeping Iran guessing, the United States engaged, and Israeli options open. But if diplomacy fails and Tehran crosses a nuclear red line, the strike that was postponed in October 2024 may yet become inevitable.
