The Decade That Led to October 7 · Liberty Politics Discussion

The Decade That Led to October 7

History is rarely changed by a single morning. Catastrophic events usually begin years earlier, through a long sequence of decisions, assumptions, institutional habits, and strategic misconceptions that remain largely invisible until they collapse all at once. According to the arguments presented by critics of Israel's security establishment, the disaster of October 7 was not simply an intelligence failure or an operational surprise. It was the culmination of a strategic doctrine that had been developing for nearly a decade.

Public debate has focused primarily on the hours before Hamas launched its attack. Questions have centered on who failed to issue warnings, who delayed military responses, and who was responsible on that specific day. Yet these questions, important as they are, do not address the deeper issue. The more fundamental question is how Israel reached a point where such an attack became possible in the first place.

The argument presented by many military critics is that the roots of the failure lie in the years following Operation Protective Edge in 2014. During that period, Hamas fundamentally changed its military doctrine. Instead of concentrating on isolated kidnappings or limited cross-border raids, it gradually developed plans for a large-scale assault designed to overwhelm the Gaza Division, penetrate multiple Israeli communities simultaneously, massacre civilians, seize hostages, and temporarily seize control of Israeli territory.

According to publicly reported information released after the war began, Israeli intelligence possessed documents describing versions of these operational concepts years before October 7. The issue, therefore, is not merely whether intelligence existed, but why that intelligence failed to fundamentally reshape Israeli strategic thinking.

Critics argue that by this stage Israel's senior military leadership had embraced a strategic concept built upon several interconnected assumptions. Hamas was believed to be deterred. It was believed to be primarily interested in economic stability rather than war. It was believed to lack the capability to conduct a large-scale invasion. Finally, it was believed that if such a capability ever emerged, Israeli intelligence would identify it well in advance.

Once these assumptions became institutionalized, they influenced almost every major strategic decision. If Hamas was deterred, there was little reason to maintain large armored formations. If large-scale war was considered unlikely, reserve forces could be reduced, standing forces could be cut, and military resources could be redirected elsewhere. If intelligence was expected to provide sufficient warning, permanent defensive preparations could safely become lighter.

Critics argue that each of these assumptions ultimately proved false.

Alongside these strategic assessments came significant changes in the structure of the Israel Defense Forces. Armored brigades were reduced, reserve formations were downsized, career positions were eliminated, mandatory service was shortened, and force planning increasingly reflected the belief that future conflicts would depend more upon precision technology than large ground maneuver forces.

From a budgetary perspective these reforms appeared efficient. From a strategic perspective, critics now argue they produced dangerous long-term consequences. Military capability cannot simply be recreated overnight. Tanks can be purchased, but experienced officers, trained reserve units, command structures, and combat formations require many years to build. Once dismantled, they cannot instantly reappear when war begins.

The consequences became visible after October 7. Israel suddenly found itself confronting simultaneous threats in both Gaza and Lebanon. Critics argue that the shortage of available maneuver forces limited Israel's ability to conduct large-scale offensive operations on multiple fronts simultaneously, forcing political and military leaders to prioritize one theater while postponing decisive action in another.

Another central criticism concerns Israel's strategic allocation of attention during the years preceding the war. Considerable military effort was invested in what became known as the "Campaign Between the Wars," designed primarily to prevent Iranian military entrenchment across the region. Few dispute the importance of that campaign. The criticism instead argues that while enormous intellectual, operational, and intelligence resources were devoted to distant threats, Hamas quietly expanded its capabilities directly across Israel's southern border.

Even the sophisticated border barrier surrounding Gaza became, according to this critique, part of the larger conceptual failure. Every professional military understands that obstacles delay attackers; they do not stop determined assaults by themselves. A defensive barrier can only succeed when integrated into a complete defensive system consisting of intelligence, surveillance, rapid reaction forces, contingency planning, artillery, close air support, and continuous operational readiness. Without these complementary elements, even the most advanced engineering project eventually becomes vulnerable.

Yet critics argue that these operational failures reflected an even deeper institutional transformation.

According to this view, the senior leadership of the Israel Defense Forces gradually shifted its attention away from the exclusive pursuit of military excellence and increasingly embraced broader social and ideological agendas. Rather than concentrating almost exclusively on combat readiness, force development, doctrine, operational planning, and preparation for major war, increasing attention was devoted to diversity initiatives, gender integration, LGBTQ inclusion policies, and other social issues that critics argue fall outside the core mission of a military organization.

The criticism is not directed at female soldiers or LGBTQ service members themselves, nor does it argue that such individuals should be excluded from military service. Rather, the argument focuses on institutional priorities. Critics contend that while these social issues may have legitimate importance within a democratic society, they should never compete with the military's primary responsibility: preparing to fight and win wars.

According to this perspective, the problem emerges when senior commanders increasingly view themselves not only as military professionals but also as participants in broader political, cultural, or ideological debates. Critics argue that as this cultural transformation accelerated, professional military questions gradually lost their central place. Discussions about combat readiness, reserve capacity, operational doctrine, armored maneuver, force structure, logistics, and preparation for large-scale conventional warfare were increasingly overshadowed by issues unrelated to battlefield effectiveness.

Some critics go even further, arguing that parts of Israel's senior military leadership adopted a distinctly progressive worldview that influenced institutional priorities and shaped organizational culture. Whether or not one accepts this characterization, it reflects a growing belief among these critics that the military leadership became increasingly disconnected from its singular professional mission: preparing Israel for the next war.

Institutional culture plays a decisive role in every military organization. Healthy armed forces actively encourage internal debate, challenge prevailing assumptions, and reward officers willing to question accepted doctrine. Organizations that lose this culture gradually become vulnerable to groupthink, where dissenting voices are marginalized and existing assumptions become increasingly difficult to challenge.

Critics argue that this is precisely what occurred. Officers who questioned force reductions, challenged prevailing intelligence assessments, or warned against overconfidence frequently found themselves isolated within an increasingly centralized decision-making system. Whether every individual criticism proved correct is ultimately less important than whether the institution remained capable of seriously examining opposing professional opinions.

Responsibility for such a failure cannot be assigned to one individual alone. Political leaders establish national strategy and approve budgets, but they necessarily rely upon the professional assessments presented by military and intelligence leadership. Senior military commanders build the force and develop operational doctrine, yet they also operate within political frameworks established by elected governments. Intelligence organizations produce strategic assessments, but they too are vulnerable to institutional assumptions and cognitive bias.

When every level of leadership shares the same conceptual framework, strategic failure becomes systemic rather than individual.

For that reason, critics argue that any serious national investigation must examine not merely the operational failures of October 7 itself, but the entire decade that preceded it. It must ask why warning signs failed to produce strategic change. It must examine how force-building decisions were made, why dissenting professional opinions carried so little influence, how organizational culture evolved, and whether broader institutional priorities gradually displaced the military's fundamental mission.

History demonstrates that nations rarely collapse because they lack intelligence or military resources. They fail when institutions become convinced that their assumptions are beyond question. They fail when success breeds complacency, when professional skepticism disappears, and when organizations lose the ability to challenge their own conclusions.

The greatest lesson of October 7 may therefore extend far beyond one battle, one commander, or one government. According to this line of criticism, the true challenge facing Israel is whether it can rebuild a military culture that places combat effectiveness above every other institutional objective, encourages rigorous professional debate, continuously reexamines its strategic assumptions, and remembers that the primary purpose of every army is not to reflect society's political debates but to defend the nation and win its wars.

Adam Feder

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The Decade That Led to October 7