How civilisational politics fuels today’s wars

After the end of the Cold War and the dissolution of the Soviet Union, the US — and, more broadly, the Western political science community, particularly the field of international relations — engaged in an intense debate over the future of the international order. Two influential interpretations quickly emerged. One was advanced by the Japanese-American political scientist Francis Fukuyama, who predicted the global triumph of liberal democracy. The other was represented by the American scholar Samuel P. Huntington, who argued that the post-Cold War world would instead be shaped by conflicts among civilisations.

Fukuyama’s famous “End of History” thesis, first advanced in a 1989 essay and later elaborated in The End of History and the Last Man, suggested that ideological competition had essentially been resolved with the collapse of communism. Drawing inspiration from Hegel’s philosophy of history, Fukuyama argued that liberal democracy represented the final stage of political evolution. While conflicts would persist, they would occur within a liberal international order rather than between fundamentally different political systems.

For much of the 1990s, global developments appeared to support this optimistic interpretation. Democratisation spread across Eastern Europe and Latin America, economic liberalisation accelerated across Asia, and international institutions such as the World Trade Organization expanded the infrastructure of globalisation. The Middle East also briefly appeared to move in this direction. In Israel, the Labor governments led by Yitzhak Rabin and Shimon Peres engaged in negotiations with the Palestinians. Under the mediation of then US President Bill Clinton, Israel and the Palestine Liberation Organization signed the Oslo Accords in 1993, establishing the two-state solution as the internationally accepted framework for resolving the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

Huntingtonian interpretations of religious and cultural conflict in the post-Cold War context have resonated with many neoconservative thinkers in the US, especially Jewish intellectuals. Yet even before Huntington formally articulated his “clash of civilisations” thesis, an alternative intellectual current had already begun to shape American strategic thinking. This current emerged from the circle often described as the “New York intellectuals”, stemming from the world of the immigrant Jews who gradually moved from left-wing politics towards anti-communism and eventually towards what became known as neoconservatism.

One of the most influential figures in this circle was the Jewish-American political thinker Irving Kristol, often described as the “godfather of neoconservatism”. Through journals and institutions such as the American Enterprise Institute, Kristol advocated a more assertive global role for the US and the defence of Western values against ideological adversaries. Another prominent member of this intellectual network was the Jewish-American writer Norman Podhoretz, longtime editor of the influential magazine Commentary. Under his leadership, Commentary evolved from a cultural journal into a major platform for neoconservative political thought. Podhoretz frequently emphasised the strategic alignment between the US and Israel and later argued that the post-Cold War world would involve a prolonged confrontation with radical forms of political Islam.

The British-born historian Bernard Lewis, who also came from a Jewish background, became one of the most influential scholars of the Middle East in American policy circles after moving to the US and teaching for decades at Princeton University. His writings on the historical relationship between Islamic societies and the West — especially his essay “The Roots of Muslim Rage” — helped popularise the idea that tensions between the two worlds were rooted in deep historical antagonisms. Similarly, another Jewish historian and commentator Daniel Pipes sought to institutionalise these debates and normalise the tensions via a historical, cultural and religious lens through organisations such as the Middle East Forum and the Campus Watch surveillance project, monitoring Middle East studies and intimidating scholars on Islam and Muslims in American universities.

These intellectual networks contributed to the strategic environment in which Huntington’s theory gained prominence. In his influential work The Clash of Civilisations and the Remaking of World Order, Huntington argued that the primary conflicts of the post-Cold War era would arise not from ideology but from cultural and civilisational differences. He divided the world into several major civilisations and identified “core states” that provided political and military leadership within each civilisational sphere. 

One of Huntington’s most controversial claims was that Islamic civilisation lacked a single “core state” capable of organising political authority across the Muslim world. In his view, this structural fragmentation contributed to instability across the Middle East. This lack of a “core state” has served as a temptation for Israeli rightists to reshape Middle Eastern geopolitics. Immediately after assassinating leftist Rabin, a group of Jewish strategists associated with neoconservative circles wrote a policy paper for the Israeli government  in 1996 entitled “A Clean Break: A New Strategy for Securing the Realm”. The document argued that Israel should abandon the Oslo peace framework and instead reshape the regional balance of power through a strategy of confronting and weakening hostile states, particularly Iraq and Syria. Several of its authors would go on to hold influential positions in the administration of US President George W. Bush.

These civilisational narratives often justify domestic majoritarianism and external expansionism, a neo-geopolitical pretext and tool for regional influence and dominance. “Core civilisation states” increasingly “restore” what they define as their own historical and cultural spheres. The most extreme case is the so-called promised lands that Israel has justified for its occupation, invasion and violation of international laws. It is no coincidence that Israel/Jewish selling of the clash of civilisations (especially between the Muslim Middle East and the Christian West) was followed by Israel’s aggressive construction of illegal settlements in the West Bank following the assassination of the former Prime Minister Rabin. Within this broader environment, Israel’s territorial ambitions after the Cold War can be understood as applying civilisational geopolitics to territorial expansions. 

The attacks of 11 September 2001, marked a turning point in the incorporation of civilisational conflict narratives into Western strategic thinking and policymaking. In the immediate aftermath, then President George W. Bush controversially referred to the “war on terror” as a “crusade”, invoking the historical memory of Christian holy wars against Muslims. Two years later, Bush viewed the invasion of Iraq as a “crusade” by “God’s chosen nation”, exactly echoing and materialising what Israel has advocated for decades after the Cold War. 

At the personal level, he believed that he was given a mission from God. He said, “God would tell me, ‘George go and fight these terrorists in Afghanistan.’ And I did. And then God would tell me, ‘George, go and end the tyranny in Iraq.’ And I did.”  The use of such religious rhetoric generated questions, criticism and reactions. In November 2001, White House press secretary Ari Fleischer was unable to clearly explain why Bush had used highly religious terms such as “crusade” and “Infinite Justice”, which caused concern and backlash in the Arab world. Criticism of these religiously framed expressions, particularly the code name of the US military campaign, led to a change in terminology: “Operation Infinite Justice” was renamed “Operation Enduring Freedom”. Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld clarified that the administration reconsidered the original name because, in the Islamic faith, such ultimate justice is understood to be the domain of God alone. 

The damage, however, had already begun to spread. For some Muslim militants, Bush’s rhetoric appeared to legitimise their resistance. As Osama bin Laden echoed, this was framed as a war of destiny between infidelity and Islam. Addressing the broader Islamic world, he declared that the crisis was immense and the calamity profound, describing it as a “Third World War” initiated by a Crusader-Zionist coalition against the Islamic nation. A similar response emerged following the toppling of the Saddam regime, when a shadowy militant organisation — ISIL or ISIS (the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant/Syria) — rapidly rose to prominence, plunging several of the countries identified in the 1996 Zionist policy paper “A Clean Break: A New Strategy for Securing the Realm” into prolonged instability and violence.

During the following decade, Israel’s strategic interests were further advanced under the Trump presidency through Israel’s networks surrounding him. One notable aspect was the continued mobilisation of Christianity within the White House in ways aligned with pro-Israel positions. Televangelist Paula Michelle White-Cain, from a broken family — who converted to Christianity in 1984 and later rose to prominence, reportedly after converting Trump to Christianity — became a significant figure in this context. 

She serves as an adviser to the White House Faith and Opportunity Initiative and as Trump’s spiritual adviser in 2017, and was ranked by Israeli sources among the top ten Christian Zionists. In 2025, she was appointed to lead the revamped White House Faith Office, further consolidating her influence at the intersection of religion and politics and reinforcing her role in shaping the religious framing of foreign policy in ways supportive of Israel’s geopolitical agenda. Another striking manifestation of this trend was Trump’s appointment of Mike Huckabee — a Christian Zionist and Baptist minister — as US ambassador to Israel. In this sense, a form of religiously oriented lobbying emerged that directly influenced the Republican presidency, as well as cabinet-level perspectives and foreign policy approaches towards Israel.

The second channel of influence on the White House operates through the well-documented lobbying mechanism of political donations. Contributions associated with pro-Israel donors to US lawmakers are widely recognised. During the Trump campaign, Israeli American billionaire Miriam Adelson contributed a substantial amount of financial support. In what appeared to be a clear policy response, the Trump administration recognised Jerusalem as Israel’s capital and relocated the US embassy there, while also recognising Israeli sovereignty over the Golan Heights. As political contributions from Israeli or Jewish donors increase, religious rhetoric in political discourse appears to intensify, with corresponding implications for US involvement and instability in the Middle East.

In addition to these spiritual and material forms of lobbying, Israel’s influence within the White House can also be observed through figures such as Jared Kushner, Trump’s son-in-law, and business associate Steve Witkoff, both of whom were directly involved in Middle East diplomacy, raising concerns among some US lawmakers about potential conflicts of interest. Finally, Trump’s senior adviser Stephen Miller played a significant role as ”Kapo” in shaping policy, particularly on immigration, at times aligning these US policies with Israel perspectives that were influenced by a Christian Zionist agenda and at odds with American multiculturalism.

From Christian Zionist spiritual mobilisation to Israeli political donations to Jewish policy advising, it appears logical to argue that the Trump administration engaged Iran through deceptive negotiations while ultimately resorting to military action, influenced by pro-Israel calculations. This Israel-guided approach imposed costs on the US across multiple fronts.

Militarily, the Trumps’ holy warriors got the apocalypse they have prayed for, causing a disaster to American power. Politically, Iranian strikes on US bases in the Persian Gulf exposed vulnerabilities in American regional security and challenged perceptions of Israeli deterrence. Geopolitically, the potential disruption or closure of the Strait of Hormuz strengthened Iran’s strategic leverage, making Iran Great Again. Globally, the perceived outcome of US actions in relation to Iran may accelerate debates about the limits of American power, prompting allies in other regions to reassess their relationships with the US.

As reflected in the religious and civilisational narratives articulated by George W. Bush and echoed by Osama bin Laden, a form of mutual reinforcement often emerges between those who advance such narratives and those who adopt them, even in contexts of hostility. Netanyahu’s divide-and-rule strategy, aimed at preventing the formation of a unified Palestinian state — at times through overt or covert tolerance of Hamas — combined with Hamas’s (Harakat al-Muqawama al-Islamiyah, or Islamic Resistance Movement) explicit use of Islamic symbolism for Palestine national independence movement, has contributed to the construction of a simplified “clash of civilisations” framework. This framing portrays Israel as representing Judaism and Hamas as representing Islam, thereby reinforcing a civilisational narrative that aligns with Israel’s broader strategic discourse since the 1990s.

It is no coincidence that during Trump’s first term, a broader framework for international relations — embodied in the so-called Abraham Accords — was promoted among the “Jewish” state of Israel and “Muslim” countries. This initiative sought, in part, to recast diplomatic relations in religious terms, potentially shifting emphasis away from international law and nation-state sovereignty towards religiously framed political alignments. Such developments can be interpreted as efforts to reshape the existing international order in ways that may accommodate or justify Israel’s occupation, settlement expansion, targeted killings, military strikes and territorial incursions.

Under prevailing interpretations of international law and the nation-state-based international system, many of these actions have been subject to significant legal sanction and moral criticism, including war crimes, apartheid, and even genocide, and have prompted calls for international accountability. In this context, religious framing may serve to reinterpret or legitimise such actions as part of a broader civilisational conflict, as reflected in certain political narratives, including Netanyahu’s references to violent biblical passages in contemporary discourse.

Unfortunately, some politicians and scholars in Muslim countries have, knowingly or unknowingly, adopted this civilisational narrative and attempted to address it through so-called inter-civilisational dialogues at various levels, often sponsored by political regimes. As Seyed Mohammad Khatami argued, the notion that clashes among cultures and civilisations would replace political and military confrontations, as part of humanity’s destiny, was further reinforced by the “End of History” thesis. This speech reverses the relationship between cause and effect.

It is well known that US and Israeli geopolitical and military pressure on Iran (not civilisational or religious difference) has, in part, prompted Iran to propose dialogue among civilisations. Now, Iran’s ongoing resistance to US and Israeli pressure and military actions does not signify a civilisational victory of (Shia) Islam over Judaism or Christianity. Rather, it reflects opposition to the so-called civilisational-state actions that lack authorisation from the United Nations Security Council (UNSC), approval from US Congress, or consultation with international allies.

The Middle East — especially Israel, the Arab states and Iran, as both originators and recipients — has been most affected by civilisational narratives in the post-“End of History” era. Other major powers outside the region have also, either explicitly or implicitly, adopted this ideological framework in shaping regional and global order at various levels. Given Israel’s political and intellectual influence on the US, the most influential country in this regard has been the US, particularly under Trump. Donald Trump’s slogan “Make America Great Again” (MAGA) reflected a narrative of restoring the historical power and cultural identity of the American nation, suggesting the influence of Israel-centred interpretations of international relations on US domestic politics and foreign policy. 

Similarly, other major powers and their policy advisers are not immune to civilisational discourse or its appeal. Russia, under Vladimir Putin, presents itself as the guardian of Orthodox civilisation. India, under Narendra Modi, emphasises the construction of a Hindu civilisational state. Turkey, under Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, frequently invokes the legacy of the Ottoman Empire. China, under Xi Jinping, frames national rejuvenation as the realisation of the “Chinese dream”. The ongoing tensions and conflicts today are largely associated with civilisational-state ambitions or projects, ranging from “Greater Israel” in the Middle East to “Greater Russia” in Eurasia.

The perceived end of the “End of History” and the gradual decline of globalisation around 2010 appeared to create a historical moment in which major powers increasingly acted not in accordance with international law, but in reference to religious and civilisational narratives. Russia was likely among the first major powers to assert such an approach, invoking historical claims to justify its actions in Ukraine. To date, Russia has incurred significant costs in terms of human resources, economic performance, military capacity, social stability, technological development and international reputation, contributing to a marked decline in its global standing.

Encouraged by decades of occupation and expansion, particularly since the late 1990s, Israel under Netanyahu likewise perceived a historic opportunity during the presidency of Donald Trump. With established family ties to Jewish networks, influence from Christian Zionist circles, and substantial Israeli/Jewish political donations, Trump was ultimately drawn into confrontation with Iran. The conduct of US policy — characterised by deception during diplomatic negotiations, military actions undertaken without authorisation from either the UNSC or the US Congress, targeted assassinations of Iranian officials and civilians (including schoolchildren), and the destruction of civilian infrastructure — has led to equating the current US government’s actions with those attributed to genocidal Israel.

More seriously, Iran has responded to long-range strikes with retaliatory attacks on nearby US bases and regional interests, effectively localising the conflict. By targeting US bases in Gulf countries and striking regional allies, Iran has positioned itself as a focal point of resistance in the Middle East, challenging what it portrays as US coercive pressure on behalf of Israel. The US-Israel effort to weaken or eliminate states perceived as obstacles to Israel’s expansionist agenda has faced significant setbacks. For the US in particular, setbacks in one region may trigger broader strategic repercussions, especially as Iran’s response illustrates how regional actors may counter external pressure through asymmetric means.

In the future, the US’s ability to restore its influence in the region will depend on how it recalibrates or reorients its relations with Israel, the Arab states and Iran based on international law, rather than on self-defined notions of civilisation and barbarism. For the Arab states of the Persian Gulf, the conflict has exposed a crucial reality: the regional security architecture of Middle Eastern Muslim countries, largely constructed by the US, is not functioning effectively. On the contrary, the US capacity to guarantee regional security has become increasingly uncertain, and its military presence may be perceived as a liability. Nor are the so-called Abraham Accords likely to bring lasting peace to the region if Israel acts outside the framework of international law and instead relies on religious or civilisational justifications. 

The history of modern Middle Eastern conflicts suggests that Israel has repeatedly violated international law in pursuit of expansionist objectives, through warfare, military interventions, invasion, occupation, destruction and even genocide, aimed at eliminating or undermining the sovereignty of neighbouring states. Iran, to a lesser extent, has projected its influence through ideological and geopolitical engagement across the region, most notably during its involvement in conflicts such as the Iran-Iraq War under Saddam Hussein. Similarly, Saudi Arabia, particularly through its promotion of Wahhabi religious doctrines, has extended its influence beyond its borders, further complicating already fragile and volatile state systems. Even smaller, wealthy Gulf monarchies have been deeply involved in building spheres of influence in Yemen, Syria, Libya, Sudan, Somalia and other countries through proxy militias.

It is noteworthy that, throughout Middle Eastern history, a tradition of deploying proxies — whether political or military — has persisted, dating back to institutions such as the Mamluks and the Janissaries. Today, Israel, Iran and Saudi Arabia each rely on their own forms of proxy networks, including the US (and, to some extent, the broader West), Shia militias and Wahhabi-aligned groups. Likewise, even smaller Gulf states have cultivated proxy networks beyond their own borders. These proxy practices have significantly undermined the sovereignty of other states in the region and beyond, rendering the Middle East a region characterised by pervasive proxy dynamics and weakened sovereignty.

All these proxy practices have backfired on multiple fronts: Wahhabism has seriously damaged Saudi Arabia’s image, reaching a peak in the aftermath of the September 11 events; the (Shia) Islamic Revolution and its proxy networks have drawn Iran into severe economic difficulties and diplomatic isolation; and even Israel, backed by the US through lobbying and claiming to possess the strongest military capability in the Middle East, has faced significant retaliation from Iran. For the external power, the US, which has acted in violation of nation-state sovereignty and international law, the consequences have included substantial economic losses, damage to its political and diplomatic reputation, and even instances of military humiliation. To build peace in the Middle East, all forms of proxy practices must be curtailed to sustain the region’s emerging nation-states. It is time for all these states to act in accordance with nation-state sovereignty and the international legal order grounded in it.

The ongoing mediation efforts led by Pakistan, with facilitation from Turkey, Egypt, China, and middle or major powers, suggest that a sustainable Middle Eastern security architecture must be rooted within the region rather than dependent on distant powers once perceived as protectors of a nation-state-centred world order, but now increasingly viewed as aligned with a religiously framed, Israel-centred Judeo-Christian narrative. Many regional countries (with the notable exception of Israel) appear inclined to pursue de-escalation and engagement with Iran, reflecting the perception that the conflict has been long shaped by Israel’s strategic planning and American proxy’s external intervention.

To pursue long-term peace and security in the region, two key issues must be addressed. The first concerns Israel and its continued occupation, expansion and military actions, often framed in religious terms. Countries in the region should consistently support Palestinian statehood and uphold the sovereignty of all nation-states, including Syria, Lebanon, Gulf Arab countries and Iran. The second issue concerns the US. 

Regional countries need to carefully manage and recalibrate their military relations with the US, particularly when American forces are perceived as aligning closely with Israeli interests, potentially conflating US and Israeli objectives with those of other states and increasing the risk of regional escalation. Historical examples — from the Mamluks and Janissaries to, more recently, modern US forces — suggest that proxy or externally aligned forces may not fully prioritise the security interests of the countries they serve. In developing a regional security framework, Middle Eastern states should strengthen their sovereignty, including by building national military capacity and promoting the development or regionalisation of defence industries.

To address long-term security challenges in the Middle East, an inclusive regional security arrangement should be developed and expanded, building on existing frameworks such as the Saudi-Pakistan mutual defence agreement, potential security cooperation between Turkey and Gulf countries, and the formation of a broader regional security union independent of the US and Israel, while also engaging with other external powers where appropriate. Given the precedent of the recent rapprochement between Saudi Arabia and Iran, actors that are perceived as less influenced by Israeli lobbyism may have greater credibility in facilitating peace in the region.

Alongside the development of a regionalised security arrangement, Middle Eastern countries should expand cooperation towards a nation-state-based regional organisation largely defined by geography — a trend evident in Europe (EU), Africa (AU), Southeast Asia (ASEAN), Central Asia (OTS) and the Americas (OAS). In contrast, East Asia, Eastern Europe and the Balkans, and the Middle East have yet to establish comparable regional organisations, where tensions and conflicts continue to rise.

Post–World War II civilisational institutions based on language or religion in the Middle East, such as the League of Arab States and the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation, have become increasingly disillusioned and ineffective, largely because their agendas are often disconnected from the concrete concerns of national sovereignty. 

To sustain a sovereign nation-based international order and legal framework, Middle Eastern countries — as well as others — should resist geopolitical approaches framed in religious or civilisational terms, such as the Abraham Accords, which may undermine the authority of the United Nations and its resolutions and, ultimately, erode the sovereignty of smaller states in the region. Instead, reforming the United Nations by strengthening rather than weakening it, together with the development of emerging regional organisations, is the only viable path to protecting the fragile international order today.

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