Despite its reputation for military prowess and technological sophistication, Israel’s strategic culture often reveals traces of an archaic worldview, one in which ancient myths overshadow sober military analysis. Among the most persistent symbolic narratives is the story of Judith and Holofernes, a tale celebrated during Hanukkah. It portrays the assassination of a mighty general by a pious woman as the singular cause of an enemy army’s collapse.
This myth, while rich in religious and cultural symbolism, appears to underpin a dangerously flawed assumption in Israeli military doctrine: that the elimination of a single enemy leader can precipitate the downfall of entire armies, movements, or regimes.
From Ancient Myth to Modern Strategy
In the Book of Judith, a text revered in Jewish tradition, a courageous and devout woman seduces the Assyrian general Holofernes, intoxicates him, and severs his head in his sleep. The loss of their commander plunges the Assyrian army into chaos and defeat.
This narrative has been etched into the collective psyche as a symbol of clever, divinely sanctioned resistance. Yet its legacy, as manifest in the persistent Israeli reliance on targeted assassinations, reveals a strategic superstition: that decapitation of leadership equals systemic collapse. The list of high-profile killings conducted by the Israeli Defense Forces and Mossad over the years — from Palestinian commanders to Iranian scientists — attests to a belief in the tactical efficacy of such strikes.
But modern warfare, especially asymmetrical warfare, rarely abides by the logic of ancient parables.
The Reality of War: Leaders Fall, Structures Adapt
The assumption that the death of a leader cripples the organization reflects an outdated, top-down understanding of enemy structures. Contemporary resistance movements, guerrilla networks, and insurgent groups often operate through decentralized, resilient command systems. Charismatic or experienced leaders are certainly important, but they are rarely irreplaceable.
In fact, the assassination of senior figures may often accelerate the rise of younger, more radical, more adaptive commanders, better attuned to evolving battlefields. What is intended as a blow to enemy morale can, paradoxically, fuel a cycle of innovation and escalation.
Consider the aftermath of the U.S. killing of Qassem Soleimani. Rather than crippling Iran’s regional influence, it ushered in a more horizontal and diffuse command structure, arguably harder to disrupt. Similarly, the repeated assassinations of Hamas and Islamic Jihad leaders have failed to diminish their operational effectiveness or popular support — if anything, they have deepened resolve and martyrdom narratives.
A Historical Irony: What If Hitler Had Killed Gamelin?
To grasp the fallacy of strategic decapitation, one need only consider a counterfactual from European history. At the onset of World War II, General Maurice Gamelin commanded the French forces. A relic of World War I, Gamelin clung to outdated doctrines and failed to anticipate the speed and innovation of Blitzkrieg tactics. His inertia played a direct role in France’s humiliating defeat in 1940.
Had Hitler assassinated Gamelin in 1939, he might have unwittingly spared France from catastrophe by allowing for the rise of a more competent and forward-thinking military leadership. In such a scenario, the intended disruption would have backfired entirely — eliminating incompetence rather than undermining resistance.
War Is Not a Fable: Strategy Beyond Symbols
What Israeli strategists must reckon with is this: war is no longer a theatre of individual destinies, but a domain of systems, networks, and adaptive organisms. The notion that removing a single node disables the entire structure may work in mythology or cyberwarfare — but not in the realm of people, ideology, and lived struggle.
Targeted assassinations may provide momentary tactical advantages or satisfy domestic political appetites, but they do not fundamentally alter the strategic equation. Wars are not won through theatrical gestures or symbolic vengeance; they are won — or lost — through long-term vision, adaptability, and political realism.
Conclusion: Myth is Not Strategy
Israel’s persistent belief in the transformational power of killing enemy leaders reveals the enduring grip of religious mythology on statecraft. The story of Judith may inspire faith and courage, but it should not be mistaken for a reliable doctrine of warfare. In the real world, movements outlive their founders, armies reorganize, and martyrdom breeds new recruits.
The modern battlefield demands not rituals of elimination, but a deeper understanding of resilience, renewal, and the limits of power. To conflate myth with strategy is to court illusion — and, eventually, defeat.
By Belgacem Merbah
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