When the First Intifada erupted in December 1987, Israel initially treated it as a wave of public disorder that could be suppressed through military force. Defense Minister Yitzhak Rabin adopted a forceful policy, subsequently associated with the controversial phrase “break their bones.”
Yet Rabin, IDF Chief of Staff Dan Shomron, and the senior security establishment gradually recognized that Israel was confronting a broad popular uprising rather than a series of localized disturbances. The military could reduce the violence and temporarily restore order, but it could not eliminate the political, national, and social roots of the uprising. A political response would therefore be required alongside military action.
This was an important development in Israel’s national security thinking. It strengthened the valid recognition that military power has limitations and that not every political challenge can be resolved on the battlefield.
Over time, however, this insight expanded far beyond its original context. Israel’s political and security establishments increasingly settled for managing conflicts, preserving temporary deterrence, reducing friction, and obtaining periods of calm—instead of pursuing a decisive outcome when circumstances made one both possible and necessary.
There is nothing inherently wrong with restraint. A responsible government must consider political, legal, economic, and international constraints, as well as the risks to soldiers and civilians. Not every enemy can be destroyed, and not every confrontation can end in absolute victory. Yet calculated restraint is not the same as abandoning in advance the aspiration to prevail.
Decisive victory does not necessarily mean the enemy’s complete destruction. It means creating a reality in which the enemy loses the ability to continue fighting in the same way, cannot quickly rebuild the capacity to threaten Israel again, and is compelled to confront fundamentally different strategic circumstances. A military decision cannot replace a political settlement, but without a sufficiently decisive military outcome, any settlement may rest on fragile foundations.
In the decades preceding October 7, Israel increasingly assumed that time was on its side. Its growing military, technological, and economic superiority would persuade its enemies that war was futile. They could be deterred rather than defeated, while a combination of threats, economic incentives, and limited military responses would preserve prolonged periods of relative calm.
This approach reached its most dangerous expression in Israel’s policy toward Hamas. Israel permitted the transfer of Qatari funds into Gaza and granted economic concessions, believing that improved living conditions and the responsibilities of territorial rule would give Hamas a strong interest in avoiding escalation.
At the same time, Israel tolerated violence along the border, incendiary balloons, and periodic rounds of rocket fire. It responded, sometimes forcefully, but generally refrained from taking action intended to transform the strategic reality in Gaza. Each temporary period of calm was interpreted as proof that deterrence had been restored.
The catastrophe of October 7, 2023 exposed the failure of this assumption. Hamas used the years of relative calm not merely to govern Gaza, but to build its military strength, prepare an extensive combat infrastructure, and plan a murderous assault. What Israel understood as mutual restraint was treated by Hamas as an opportunity to prepare for the next war.
The IDF has since achieved significant operational successes and severely damaged Hamas, Hezbollah, and important Iranian capabilities. Nevertheless, Israel has not always succeeded in converting military achievements into clear strategic and political outcomes. More troubling is the impression that the very concept of decisive victory has almost disappeared from Israel’s national security discourse or is dismissed as an outdated idea.
It is against this background that Brigadier General (res.) Ofer Winter’s entry into political life assumes particular importance. Winter represents a command ethos centered on initiative, offensive action, operational ingenuity, and the pursuit of victory.
He recalls Moshe Dayan’s description of the commanders Israel required: “It is better to struggle with spirited horses when the problem is how to rein them in than to prod and spur oxen that refuse to move.”
Winter appears to belong to the first category. Throughout his military career, he developed a reputation as a commander who did not merely react to events but sought to shape them. His outlook does not rest on containing the enemy indefinitely or repeatedly pushing it back for limited periods. It emphasizes bringing the enemy to a point at which its defeat is clear and unmistakable.
In this respect, Winter also resembles Rafael Eitan—Raful—whose military outlook placed victory at the center of the army’s purpose and rejected convoluted doctrines that could obscure the commander’s fundamental responsibility.
During Israel’s early decades, decisive victory stood at the heart of its military doctrine. Given its small territory, lack of strategic depth, and vulnerable population, Israel understood that it could not sustain a prolonged defensive war. It had to transfer the fighting rapidly into enemy territory and deprive its adversary of either the ability or the will to continue.
The nature of Israel’s enemies has since changed. Conventional wars against regular armies have largely given way to prolonged confrontations with terrorist and guerrilla organizations, supported by regional powers. But this transformation does not eliminate the need for decisive victory. It requires Israel to redefine what decisive victory means against Hamas, Hezbollah, and Iran, and to develop the military and political instruments necessary to achieve it.
Winter’s entry into politics could therefore make an important contribution to deliberations around the cabinet table. Israel needs senior political figures willing to demand bold military plans, question the culture of containment and postponement, and challenge the automatic assertion that victory is impossible.
His significance lies not only in the specific policies he may advocate, but also in the military ethos he may introduce into political decision-making: initiative rather than passivity, shaping events rather than responding to them, and treating victory as an operational objective rather than an embarrassing or unrealistic slogan.
Yet this approach requires an equally important qualification. In a democratic state, the military executes policy; it does not determine it. The elected political leadership must define the objectives of war, weigh the full range of national interests, and bear responsibility for the consequences. At times, it should encourage military daring; at other times, it must restrain it.
Israel needs “spirited horses,” but it also needs political leaders who know where those horses should go, when they should be reined in, and what political reality should follow a military victory. Operational aggressiveness without a clearly defined political objective can produce impressive battlefield achievements without lasting strategic success.
Winter must also recognize the limitations of his experience. Military expertise, personal courage, and command ability do not automatically confer a deep understanding of constitutional law, economics, education, healthcare, or social policy. There is no shame in acknowledging that these fields require further study. Such humility would strengthen rather than weaken his public credibility.
Winter’s most valuable initial contribution would be to restore the concepts of initiative, daring, victory, and decisive action to the center of Israel’s political and security discourse. If he can translate his military experience into a responsible political doctrine, accept the unequivocal authority of the elected civilian leadership, and surround himself with experts in fields beyond his experience, his entry into politics could prove highly significant.
After October 7, Israel cannot return to a policy of purchasing illusory calm and repeatedly postponing decisive action. Restraint will sometimes remain essential, and military force must never become an end in itself. But neither negotiations nor economic concessions can substitute for eliminating an intolerable threat.
If Ofer Winter helps restore this balance to Israeli strategic thinking, his entry into politics will be more than a personal development. It may help reshape Israel’s military doctrine and its understanding of what is required to defend the country in the years ahead.
