God, Guns and Gaza

Just a week ago, Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu agreed to a 60-day ceasefire, shortly after his meeting with the President of the United States at the White House. The timing of this agreement is deeply ironic, as it coincides with Netanyahu facing corruption charges, with a court decision still pending. Many presume he will either end up behind bars or strike a political settlement- one that may conveniently offer the Israeli military a much-needed respite after months of costly offensives against Palestinians. At the same time, international pressure on Israel is mounting. Global leaders and organisations, including the European Union, are considering sanctions against Tel Aviv for its conduct in Gaza. The reasons for the ceasefire are apparent: it serves a political purpose rather than signalling a genuine commitment to peace. As such, it is unlikely to last.

Moreover, neither Israel nor the United States appears willing to retreat until two key objectives are achieved: the establishment of complete Israeli control over Palestinian territory and the elimination of the perceived threat posed by Hamas. In this context, a familiar and unsettling question resurfaces: why does the United States, despite its repeated affirmations of human rights and democratic values, continue to offer unwavering support to Israel, regardless of the mounting civilian toll?

From a Pakistani perspective, solidarity with the Palestinian cause is rooted not only in religion but also in the legacy of British anti-colonial resistance and a deep sense of humanitarian empathy. Viewed through this lens, the U.S.-Israel alliance appears to be driven less by democratic ideals and more by a potent combination of divine allegiance, political influence, and strategic ambition. America’s unwavering support for Israel is not merely the outcome of post-war realpolitik. It is the result of a complex convergence of historical guilt, the influence of powerful lobbying groups, and evangelical Christian theology that regards Israel not simply as a sovereign state, but as the fulfilment of Biblical prophecy. Although often portrayed in the language of shared values and mutual interests, the origins of this relationship run far deeper.

Israel and Christianity are deeply intertwined through theology, prophecy, and historical narrative. For many Christians, especially evangelicals, Protestant Christians who emphasise the authority of the Bible, Israel is seen as the land where Biblical history unfolded and where the Second Coming of Christ is destined to occur. The Old Testament, which is sacred to both Jews and Christians, speaks of God’s covenant with the Israelites. The New Testament places the life and crucifixion of Jesus in Jerusalem. This sacred geography elevates Israel from a geopolitical entity to a symbol of divine promise within Christian belief.

Many evangelical Christians view the modern state of Israel as a prophetic sign necessary for the end-times scenario described in the Book of Revelation. Consequently, support for Israel becomes more than a political stance; it transforms into a spiritual obligation. This fusion of faith and foreign policy continues to shape American decision-making today. According to a Pew Research Centre study, over 70 per cent of white evangelicals believe that God gave the land of Israel to the Jewish people. For them, supporting Israel is not simply about diplomacy or alliance; rather, it is the fulfilment of divine will. Within this theological worldview, modern Israel is not merely a sovereign state; it is the gateway to the return of Christ. Palestinians, in this framework, are either irrelevant or viewed as obstacles to a divine script.

It is no surprise, then, that evangelical organisations like Christians United for Israel (CUFI) command the loyalty of millions and lobby more aggressively than many state-backed groups. Founded by Pastor John Hagee, CUFI now has over ten million members. Its political activism and fundraising have made it as central to Israel’s support base in the United States as the more widely known American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC). AIPAC, for its part, continues to funnel millions of dollars into U.S. presidential campaigns, securing bipartisan loyalty that often comes at the cost of Palestinian lives.

This religious-political nexus was particularly visible during the Trump presidency, when the United States moved its embassy from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem in 2018. Evangelicals hailed the decision as a prophetic milestone. President Trump, despite his many political and moral contradictions, became a hero to Christian Zionists almost overnight. He delivered on policies they had long prayed for, including slashing aid to UNRWA, cutting funding to Palestinian hospitals, and legitimising illegal settlements across the West Bank. For a nation that often criticises the role of religion in politics, especially in Muslim-majority countries, American foreign policy toward Israel remains curiously saturated with theology and prophecy. The irony is not that they deny it, but that they disguise it in the language of democracy.

AIPAC has long ensured that criticism of Israel remains politically dangerous in Washington. Members of Congress, regardless of party, understand the risks of challenging the pro-Israel lobby: loss of funding, media attacks, and well-financed primary challengers. Although U.S. politicians frequently decry foreign influence in their domestic politics, they have made a striking exception for Israel. Even the mildest expressions of dissent are met with accusations of anti-Semitism or betrayal of democratic values. It is within this protected space that Israel continues its occupation and military actions, repeatedly shielded by American vetoes at the United Nations Security Council.

So, we are left with a chilling paradox: a secular superpower whose foreign policy is guided not by international law, not by human rights, but by ancient scripture and modern lobbying. When theology masquerades as diplomacy, and divine prophecy dictates drone policy, what hope remains for justice? And how many more graves will it take before we admit that in this war, God is not neutral, because man has written Him into the battle plan? When will faith stop pulling the trigger?

Danish Bhutto
The writer is an author, researcher and columnist based in Lahore. He can be reached at anishalee017@gmail.com


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