Two fronts, one fortnight, and a pattern that Brussels has yet to call by its name.
Over the past two weeks, Israeli forces have struck southern Lebanon in what became the deadliest attacks there since June’s ceasefire, killing eleven people, three of them children, and then bombed Syria’s Abu al-Duhur airbase near the Turkish border.
Treated separately, each episode reads as a bounded response to a bounded provocation. Read together, they describe something closer to a standing doctrine: that no neighbouring state may reconstitute military capacity, or host anyone else’s, without Israeli consent.
That doctrine may or may not be defensible. What is not defensible, for a European institution with interests in this region, is Brussels’ failure to say so, one way or the other.
Lebanon’s Deadliest Week Since the Truce
On 14 and 15 August, Israeli air strikes on Ansar and Deir ez-Zahrani, in Lebanon’s Nabatieh district, killed at least eleven people and wounded nineteen, Al Jazeera reported, among them three children in an attack that Lebanon’s parliament speaker, Nabih Berri, called a “massacre” and described as amounting to a war of extermination against the south. Bloomberg reported it was the deadliest single day since the two sides agreed a ceasefire at the start of June, coming a day after the Israel Defense Forces said they had killed a senior Hezbollah commander, Abu Hassan Alaa, in the south.
Ground forces followed: Israeli vehicles pushed into the Ali al-Taher area on 17 August, beyond the zone Israel already held, with troops reportedly told to prepare for several days of combat, Antiwar.com reported. Israel frames each strike as enforcement of a truce that Hezbollah, by its own account, never signed. Hezbollah calls the campaign occupation under another name, and has urged Beirut to abandon what it terms “humiliating” direct talks brokered by Washington.
Abu al-Duhur: A Runway Near Aleppo
Three days after the Nabatieh strikes, on the night of 17 to 18 August, Israeli jets hit the Abu al-Duhur airbase in Syria’s Idlib province with eight strikes on its runway and storage facilities, Al Jazeera reported. There were no casualties, and Israel did not immediately claim responsibility.
When Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s office did, hours later, its statement named the actual target: not Hezbollah, not Iran, but Turkey. Damascus had been “on the verge of breaching” an unwritten security understanding by permitting Turkish troops to deploy at the base, the statement said, warning that Israel would not tolerate threats to its security. Turkey denied any troops were present, and Syria’s foreign minister told Axios that he had told Israeli officials as much before the strike, according to Axios, which reported that Israel struck regardless.
A Third Strike, and a Dispute Between Allies
Four days later, on Saturday 22 August, Israel struck a third time. A drone hit a civilian vehicle near Beit Jinn, in the Damascus countryside; Syria said a civilian was wounded, while Israel’s military said it had targeted an operative in the final stages of planning an attack on its forces, Al Jazeera reported.
In a televised interview the same day, Tom Barrack, the US ambassador to Turkey and special envoy to Syria, went further than his own earlier statement, floating one of two unconfirmed theories, which he stressed was not an intelligence-based conclusion, that the Abu al-Duhur strike had been “a very aggressive, but maybe well-received, pre-election concept” aimed at baiting Turkey ahead of Israel’s October elections. He added that Israel had given Washington no advance warning of that strike. Israel’s defence minister, Israel Katz, publicly rejected Barrack’s account, saying it contained “inaccuracies and positions that contradict those of the U.S.,” and said Israel had warned Syria before striking and acted only after those warnings were ignored. Four days on, Washington and Jerusalem cannot agree on what happened at Abu al-Duhur, let alone why, which complicates any claim that a single doctrine fully explains it.
The Case Israel Makes
Set out on its own terms, Israel’s position carries an internal logic that deserves stating plainly before it is contested. Since Bashar al-Assad’s fall in December 2024, Israel has run a sustained campaign against Syria’s residual military infrastructure, on the premise that a weak, contested Syrian state poses less risk than a rearmed one, whoever does the rearming.
The Alma Research and Education Center, which tracks these strikes closely, notes the Abu al-Duhur strike follows the same pattern as an April 2025 Israeli strike on Syria’s T4 airbase, also aimed at blocking Turkish military capabilities from taking hold there. On Lebanon, Israel’s case is that Hezbollah’s continued rearmament, ceasefire or not, constitutes an ongoing violation entitling Israel to pre-emptive and retaliatory strikes under a right of self-defence that few European governments would deny it in principle. Both arguments rest on a genuine premise: Hezbollah has not disarmed, and Turkish-Syrian military cooperation is, in fact, deepening.
One Doctrine, Not Two Incidents
But the two campaigns share more than a shared author. On the strength of Israel’s own stated rationale for the Syria strike, the absence of the deconfliction mechanism Washington says is needed, and the T4 precedent Alma documents, each treats a neighbouring state’s ordinary sovereign choices, whom to ally with, whom to let train its army, what weapons to hold, as conditional on Israeli consent, revocable at will, and enforceable by strikes that sit outside any framework of prior authorisation, United Nations mandate, or bilateral treaty.
Barrack, the US special envoy for Syria, called the Abu al-Duhur strike “an unnecessary escalation that does not advance regional stability” and said it “underscores the need for a deconfliction mechanism involving Israel, Syria and Turkiye,” an admission that no such mechanism yet exists for a country supposedly transitioning out of civil war under American patronage.
On Lebanon, EU foreign policy chief Kaja Kallas went further than Washington had gone on Syria, calling Israel’s operation “heavy-handed” and warning it “risks drawing Lebanon and its people into a war that is not theirs.” That Kallas spoke at all, and that no statement addressing the Syria strike appears on the EEAS’s own record, is itself part of the pattern this piece is describing.
A joint statement condemning the Abu al-Duhur strike, released by Turkey’s foreign ministry, described the strikes as a “flagrant violation of the sovereignty, territorial integrity and political unity” of Syria, and was co-signed by twelve foreign ministries: Turkey’s own, plus Algeria, Indonesia, Jordan, Lebanon, Malaysia, Mauritania, Pakistan, Palestine, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, and Somalia. Not one European Union member state signed it.
The Silence With a Name
This is not an argument for false symmetry between two very different governments and two very different wars. It is an argument that Brussels’ posture toward its southeastern periphery has become reactive on the file where a senior EU foreign-policy voice has spoken most forcefully, Lebanon, and passive on the file where none has, Syria, despite having invested, since Assad’s fall, in a reconstruction relationship it now appears to have no instrument to protect.
An airbase dispute involving a NATO ally is the kind of regional dispute the European Union has spent decades building institutions to mediate. Instead, the file was left to an American ambassador to Turkey who also serves as special envoy to Syria, an arrangement that places substantial responsibility in one office and leaves no European seat at the table where the deconfliction mechanism Barrack himself called for might get designed.
None of this requires Brussels to adjudicate whether Israel’s strikes were proportionate, a judgment this page is not positioned to make on the public record available.
It requires Brussels to decide whether it has a Syria policy distinct from its Lebanon policy, distinct from its Gaza policy, and to state it before the next runway is cratered rather than after. The doctrine forming across two fronts is not, at this point, a mystery. The absence forming in Brussels is the part still unaccounted for.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Azfar Bukhari is a senior analyst specialising in geopolitics, public diplomacy, migration, international trade, and investment. He is the Vice President (External Relations & Diplomacy) and a regular contributor to The European Post.


