Those plans have to be on the table.
In the earliest days of a new American presidency, the ancient contest between rival visions of security and survival reasserted itself across the Middle East. Israel's top military commander, Lt. Gen. Aviv Kochavi, publicly ordered his forces to prepare offensive options against Iran while warning Washington that reviving the 2015 nuclear accord — on any terms — would be a strategic mistake. The moment captured something enduring about the architecture of regional power: that diplomacy between great actors is never conducted in isolation, but always under the shadow of those who feel their existence depends on its outcome.
- Israel's military chief took the rare step of publicly announcing new offensive war plans against Iran, a signal designed as much for Washington as for Tehran.
- Both Israel and Iran are racing to shape President Biden's nuclear policy before it hardens, each warning that time and opportunity are running out.
- Iran has been raising the pressure through uranium enrichment closer to weapons-grade levels and the seizure of a South Korean tanker, while the U.S. has deployed bombers, a carrier, and a nuclear submarine to the region.
- Israel insists any new deal must go further than 2015 — eliminating sunset clauses, addressing missile programs, and curbing Iran's regional proxies — or it will be worse than no deal at all.
- The region sits at a volatile intersection of military buildup and diplomatic urgency, with Iranian missiles already in range of Israel and American installations throughout the Gulf.
In the opening days of the Biden presidency, Israel's military establishment moved decisively to shape American nuclear policy. Lt. Gen. Aviv Kochavi, the Israeli Chief of Staff, delivered a stark public warning: any return to the 2015 Iran nuclear agreement — even a strengthened version — would be strategically and operationally unsound. More significantly, he announced that he had ordered the military to develop new offensive plans against Iran over the coming year, making clear that Israel was preparing for the possibility of unilateral action if political leaders chose to act.
The timing was deliberate. Biden had already signaled his intention to revive the deal that the Trump administration abandoned in 2018, and both Israel and Iran were competing to influence that decision. Israeli security planners had never accepted the original agreement, arguing it lacked sufficient safeguards and contained sunset provisions that would eventually free Iran to resume nuclear activities unchecked. Kochavi framed the stakes in existential terms, warning that a nuclear Iran would trigger a cascade of proliferation across the region.
Yet Israel also saw an opening. Years of Trump-era sanctions had weakened Iran's economy and constrained its program, and Israeli officials argued this leverage should be used to demand a far stronger deal — one that addressed missiles, sunset clauses, and Iran's support for hostile regional proxies.
Iran, meanwhile, was sending its own signals. Hours before Kochavi spoke, Tehran urged Biden to rejoin the accord and warned the diplomatic window would not stay open indefinitely. The military posturing on both sides had already intensified: Iran had seized a South Korean tanker and enriched uranium to near-weapons-grade levels; the U.S. had deployed B-52 bombers, the USS Nimitz, and a nuclear submarine to the region; and Iran had responded with cruise missile tests in the Gulf of Oman. With Iranian missiles capable of reaching targets 2,000 kilometers away, the region had become a volatile intersection of military preparation and diplomatic brinkmanship — all converging on a new administration still finding its footing.
In the opening days of the Biden presidency, Israel's military establishment moved to shape American nuclear policy through a combination of public warning and operational readiness. On Tuesday, Lt. Gen. Aviv Kochavi, the Israeli Chief of Staff, delivered a stark message: any return to the 2015 Iran nuclear agreement—even one with tougher terms—would be strategically and operationally unsound. More significantly, he announced that he had ordered the Israeli military to develop new offensive operational plans against Iran over the coming year, positioning the armed forces to act independently if political leadership decided to strike.
The timing was deliberate. Both Israel and Iran were competing for influence over President Biden's imminent decision on how to handle the Iranian nuclear program. Biden had already signaled his intention to revive the deal that the Trump administration had abandoned in 2018. For Israel, this represented an unacceptable direction. The 2015 agreement, which had lifted economic sanctions on Iran in exchange for restrictions on its nuclear program, had never sat well with Israeli security planners. They argued it lacked sufficient safeguards and contained sunset provisions that would eventually allow Iran to resume nuclear activities without constraint. Kochavi framed the stakes in existential terms: allowing Iran to proceed with nuclear development would create an unacceptable threat and trigger a cascade of nuclear proliferation across the Middle East.
What made Kochavi's statement particularly significant was not just the rhetoric but the operational directive embedded within it. He was explicit about having instructed the military to prepare "a number of operational plans in addition to the existing ones." These plans, he said, would be developed and refined throughout the year. While he acknowledged that political leaders would make the final decision about whether to execute them, he was clear that the military needed to have viable options ready. The message was unmistakable: Israel was preparing for the possibility of unilateral military action.
Israeli officials, including Kochavi, argued that Iran's negotiating position had weakened considerably since 2015. Years of Trump-era sanctions had degraded Iran's economy and constrained its nuclear program. From this perspective, any new agreement should go further than the original deal—eliminating the sunset clauses, addressing Iran's long-range missile capabilities, and constraining its military support for groups hostile to Israel throughout the region. The window for a stronger deal, they suggested, was now open.
But Iran was sending its own message. Just hours before Kochavi spoke, Iran's Cabinet spokesman Ali Rabiei urged Biden to rejoin the nuclear accord, warning that the diplomatic opportunity would not remain available indefinitely. The statement reflected Tehran's own sense of urgency and its desire to lock in sanctions relief before the political calculus shifted further. Meanwhile, the military posturing on both sides was escalating. In the final weeks of the Trump administration, Iran had seized a South Korean oil tanker and begun enriching uranium to levels closer to weapons-grade purity. The United States responded by deploying B-52 bombers, the USS Nimitz aircraft carrier, and a nuclear submarine to the region. Iran countered with increased military exercises, including cruise missile tests in the Gulf of Oman. With Iranian missiles capable of reaching targets up to 2,000 kilometers away—well within range of Israel and American military installations—the region had become a tinderbox of competing military preparations and diplomatic brinkmanship.
Citas Notables
A return to the deal, even with improvements, is bad operationally and strategically, and would create an unacceptable threat leading to nuclear proliferation across the region.— Lt. Gen. Aviv Kochavi, Israeli Chief of Staff
The window of opportunity will not be open for long.— Ali Rabiei, Iran's Cabinet spokesman
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why would Kochavi announce these preparations publicly rather than keep them quiet?
Because the announcement itself is part of the pressure campaign. He's signaling to Biden that Israel has options and won't simply accept whatever deal emerges. It's a way of saying: negotiate with us, or we'll act alone.
But doesn't that risk pushing Biden away, making him feel pressured?
Possibly. But from Israel's perspective, the alternative—a nuclear deal they see as inadequate—is worse than the diplomatic friction. They're betting that Biden will take their security concerns seriously.
What about Iran's warning that the window won't stay open long?
That's Iran trying to create urgency in the opposite direction. They're saying to Biden: if you want a deal, move fast, because we won't wait forever and we have other options too.
Other options meaning what?
Continuing to enrich uranium, deepening ties with other powers, accelerating their military capabilities. It's a mirror image of what Israel is doing—preparing alternatives if diplomacy fails.
So both sides are essentially saying the same thing?
Exactly. Both are telling Biden: negotiate with us on our terms, or we'll pursue our own path. The military preparations are the credible threat behind those words.