Is Trump Israel’s Slave?

The war between the United States and Iran was supposed to be another display of American power for Donald Trump. But a war that was expected to end quickly and decisively has instead turned into a prolonged and costly conflict. Under these circumstances, one question has become increasingly difficult to avoid: Was Trump truly the principal decision-maker behind the war, or did Israel manage to push the U.S. president down a path of its own choosing? Norman Finkelstein does not offer a simple answer. He neither denies Israel’s influence nor embraces conspiracy theories about Trump being “Israel’s slave.” In his view, the reality is more complicated: Israel may have influenced Trump’s decisions, but his own pride, ambitions, America’s interests, and the chaotic structure of decision-making inside the White House also played major roles in shaping the war.

The War That Was Supposed to Be a Victory

In Norman Finkelstein’s analysis, the first thing to understand about the U.S.-Iran war is that it was marked by a fundamental contradiction from the very beginning. On the one hand, the Trump administration presented the war as a decisive action aimed at protecting American interests and confronting the Iranian threat. On the other hand, the longer the war continued, the more apparent its military, economic, and political costs became.

By September 2026, the war had continued for more than six months, with no clear end in sight. Recent Reuters reports have pointed to mounting pressure on the United States, disruptions to energy routes, and rising fuel costs. Meanwhile, on September 16, Trump said he hoped the war was nearing its end.

This is precisely the point Finkelstein emphasizes in his analysis: a war that was supposed to demonstrate power may instead become a demonstration of the limits of power.

In his view, Trump now faces three major problems. First, a war whose necessity has not been clear to a large portion of the American public; second, rising economic costs; and third, the difficulty of achieving the objectives that were set for the war.

That last point is particularly important. If the goal of the war was not simply to inflict military damage, but also to change Iran’s behavior or even its political structure, then the prolonged conflict and the failure to achieve such an objective suggest that the initial calculations may have been excessively optimistic.

Finkelstein points to an important historical reality here: even governments staffed by highly experienced experts have repeatedly miscalculated when it comes to war.

The Iraq War is a classic example. Figures such as Donald Rumsfeld and Dick Cheney had years of political and governmental experience and surrounded themselves with people who had considerable expertise and experience in foreign policy. Yet they too believed that Iraq could be defeated relatively easily and that the war would end quickly.

Something similar happened in Vietnam. Many of the decision-makers of that era were among the most highly educated and politically experienced figures at the highest levels of government, yet they repeatedly misjudged the course of the war.

From Finkelstein’s perspective, then, the fact that Trump entered a war that has now become costly for the United States does not, by itself, prove that Israel forced him into it.

Politicians can make mistakes—even when they believe they are winning.

Israel: The Cause of the War or Part of the Equation?

But this is where the more difficult question begins.

If Trump could have anticipated that a war with Iran would be costly, why did he enter it?

At this point, Israel’s role cannot simply be ignored.

Tucker Carlson, in an analysis that Finkelstein addresses in the interview, makes a very direct argument: Israel pushed the United States toward war, and Trump entered the conflict because of that pressure, despite the argument that doing so ran against his own interests and those of his country. The possibility that Israel could have blackmailed Trump is also raised.

Finkelstein, however, draws a distinction between influence and control.

That distinction may be the most important part of his analysis.

Israel can pressure the United States to go to war with Iran. Netanyahu can persuade Trump that Iran is on the verge of collapse. Israeli officials can present a picture of an easy and rapid victory. But all of that is different from claiming that “Trump has no agency or will of his own.”

In effect, Finkelstein argues that if we describe Trump simply as “Israel’s slave,” we leave out one crucial factor: Trump himself.

Trump is not merely a figure who is acted upon by others. He is a politician with his own instincts, ambitions, and calculations. His strong desire to project power and establish a historical legacy, in Finkelstein’s view, helps explain a significant part of his behavior.

The issue, therefore, may not be that Netanyahu ordered Trump to go to war, but rather that Netanyahu succeeded in presenting a vision of a great victory that fit perfectly with Trump’s own pride and ambitions.

These are two fundamentally different explanations.

In the first version, Trump is a puppet moved by Israel.

In the second, Trump is an independent actor who may have been influenced by Israel, but ultimately made his decision based on a combination of interests, instincts, incomplete information, and personal ambitions.

Finkelstein’s analysis is closer to the second explanation.

The “Information Vacuum” Around Trump

One of the most interesting parts of Finkelstein’s argument concerns the decision-making structure inside the Trump administration.

He describes what could be called an “information vacuum.”

In his view, a president becomes particularly vulnerable to miscalculation when he is surrounded by people who, rather than genuinely challenging him, are primarily interested in confirming what he already wants to believe.

Finkelstein compares this situation with previous administrations. During Lyndon Johnson’s presidency, despite the disaster of the Vietnam War, the president worked with a group of highly educated and experienced advisers. Under George W. Bush, figures such as Rumsfeld and Cheney, along with a group of neoconservatives with long-standing foreign-policy experience, occupied key positions.

Finkelstein emphasizes that, regardless of what one thinks of these figures, they were not unintelligent or inexperienced people. Yet they still made catastrophic mistakes over Iraq.

This example matters to him because it demonstrates that we do not necessarily need a hidden conspiracy to explain a disastrous decision.

A president may receive bad information.

His advisers may be excessively optimistic.

Military leaders may underestimate the strength or resilience of their adversary.

And most importantly, a political leader may believe something simply because he wants it to be true.

In Trump’s case, Finkelstein believes this is directly connected to his personality.

If a president is told that the enemy is on the verge of collapse, that domestic opponents are ready to act, that intelligence networks are everywhere, and that just one more strike will be enough to bring the regime down, such a picture can be extremely tempting for a politician who is attracted to displays of power.

Especially if he is told that, should he succeed, history will remember him as the president who achieved a great victory.

This is where Israel can play an important role—not necessarily as Trump’s commander, but as an actor capable of providing him with information, narratives, and a particular vision of what the future might look like.

From “Israel’s Slave” to America’s Own Interests

One of Finkelstein’s important points is that even if we take Israel’s role seriously, American policy toward Iran cannot be attributed solely to Israel.

That policy has a much longer history.

Finkelstein points out that during the George W. Bush administration, Iran was already part of Washington’s broader vision for reshaping the Middle East. Following the Iraq War, Iran and Syria also became important elements in Washington’s strategic calculations.

Barack Obama took a different path and reached the nuclear agreement with Iran. Donald Trump later withdrew from the agreement, while the Biden administration was unable to restore it.

The structural hostility between Washington and Tehran, therefore, cannot simply be attributed to Benjamin Netanyahu.

Israel has its own interests and objectives.

The United States has its own interests and objectives.

The two overlap in many areas, but they are not necessarily identical.

And that is precisely what makes the concept of “Israel’s slave” overly simplistic.

If Trump truly had no independence, how can we explain the moments when he sought to halt hostilities or pursue negotiations?

In June, for example, a temporary ceasefire agreement was reached between the United States and Iran, and during that period Trump moved away from some of his earlier positions regarding the war’s military objectives.

In the months that followed, American diplomatic efforts to manage the regional conflict and pursue negotiations continued. In September, China also called on the United States and Iran to return to the framework of the June interim agreement and resume talks.

None of this, by itself, proves that Trump was independent of Israel—or that he was not. But it does demonstrate that the relationship cannot easily be reduced to a simple commander-and-subordinate dynamic.

Why Conspiracy Theories Are Not Enough

Perhaps one of the most important aspects of Finkelstein’s argument is his warning about the growing role of conspiracy theories.

He is particularly skeptical of arguments that place one hypothetical assumption on top of another until they eventually produce what appears to be a certain conclusion.

For example:

If Israel has engaged in blackmail operations;

if it possesses compromising information about Trump;

if Trump fears that such information could be exposed;

if that information is sufficiently damaging;

and if that pressure ultimately led to war with Iran;

then one could conclude that Israel controls Trump.

But the problem, as Finkelstein points out, is straightforward:

There are too many “ifs” in that chain.

Each individual assumption may be logically possible, but possibility is not the same thing as evidence.

Finkelstein takes a similar position regarding claims surrounding Epstein. The fact that Trump and Epstein had a social relationship in the past is well documented. But that fact alone cannot establish, without additional evidence, that Israel used information connected to Epstein to pressure Trump.

This analytical caution matters.

If the goal is to understand how power actually operates, we have to distinguish between what we know, what we do not know, and what we can merely imagine.

From Finkelstein’s perspective, this is precisely what some political analysis today has lost sight of.

Instead of examining history, documents, and material interests, everything can be reduced to a conspiratorial narrative.

And within such a narrative, Israel can become the ready-made answer to almost every question.

Finkelstein argues that this can actually undermine our understanding of Israel’s real influence.

Because demonstrating Israeli influence does not require unproven claims.

We can examine the relationship between Washington and Tel Aviv, American military assistance, U.S. diplomatic support, lobbying, strategic coordination, and the role of the Israeli government in shaping American policy in the region through documented evidence.

Real power does not need a myth.

The Final Question: Trump, Israel, or the Structure of Power?

Ultimately, perhaps the question “Is Trump Israel’s slave?” is not the most precise question to ask.

A more precise question would be:

How can the president of the United States, despite possessing extraordinary power, enter a war from which it becomes increasingly difficult to withdraw?

Finkelstein’s answer is multilayered.

Israel is part of the equation.

America’s strategic interests are part of the equation.

The long history of hostility between Washington and Tehran is part of the equation.

The decision-making structure of the Trump administration is part of the equation.

And at the center of all of them stands Trump himself—a figure deeply attracted to displays of power, personal grandeur, and the creation of a historical legacy.

Within this framework, Israel can neither be ignored nor made responsible for everything.

Trump may indeed have come under Israeli pressure at certain points. Netanyahu may have succeeded in presenting him with an overly optimistic assessment of the situation in Iran. Israel may have played an important role in shaping the initial decision to go to war.

But turning those possibilities into the claim that “Trump is Israel’s slave” would require additional evidence.

And this is precisely where Finkelstein’s analysis separates itself from conspiracy-driven interpretations.

Rather than portraying Trump as a puppet without agency, he sees him as a decision-maker who chose, calculated, made mistakes, and is now confronting the consequences of his own decisions.

In fact, this perspective can make the criticism of Trump more consequential.

If Trump is merely a puppet, responsibility for his decisions can easily be shifted onto someone else.

But if he is an independent actor who made decisions under the influence of pride, incomplete information, political interests, and external pressure, then political responsibility for those decisions still rests with him.

Perhaps that is why the phrase “Israel’s slave” is ultimately insufficient to describe the complex relationship between the United States and Israel.

Trump may have been influenced by Israel—but influence is not the same as control.

And the war with Iran may be less a story about a president acting under the command of a foreign government than a story about the collision of several powerful forces: America’s geopolitical interests, Israel’s objectives, flawed calculations, an ineffective decision-making structure, and a leader deeply invested in power and victory.

The war that was supposed to be a display of strength has now become a test of the limits of power. Reports on September 18 likewise pointed to the war’s continuation, growing economic pressure on the United States, disruptions to energy routes, and increasingly difficult diplomatic circumstances.

Under these conditions, perhaps the central question is no longer:

“Who controls Trump?”

Instead, we should ask:

Who is responsible for the decision Trump himself made to enter this war?

Finkelstein’s answer is clear: Israel must be part of the analysis, but Trump himself, America’s interests, and the history of Washington’s foreign policy cannot be removed from the picture.

Because if we truly want to understand this war, we have to move beyond slogans and examine the structure of power.

And that is where the question “Is Trump Israel’s slave?” becomes a larger question:

Did the president of the United States start a war that he can no longer easily control?