Thursday, September 24, 2026

Israel’s three-headed spy machine

Mossad commands the mythology, but Israel’s shadow wars rely on three competing agencies that fuse espionage, occupation, and military force.  

The Israeli security establishment did not emerge as the orderly machine it later claimed to be. Much like the army itself, it was assembled through rivalry, improvisation, and a struggle over who would control the new state’s intelligence arms. Only in the early 1950s did something resembling a settled institutional structure begin to take shape.

Under Israel’s founder and first prime minister, David Ben Gurion, authority was divided among the premier’s office, the foreign minister, the army chief of staff, and several influential ambassadors. Each fought to extend his control over the agencies taking shape around them.

In “Gideon’s Spies: The Secret History of the Mossad,” Gordon Thomas describes the first dispute. One camp wanted to concentrate on economic and political intelligence, another on the military power of Israel’s enemies, while others pressed for operations against former Nazis and fascists.

Thomas writes that Ben Gurion summoned the intelligence chiefs to his office on 2 March 1951 and informed them that foreign intelligence collection would be assigned to a new body, Mossad LeTeum, or the Institute for Coordination. 

Israel’s official Mossad history dates the institute’s initial establishment to 13 December 1949, under Reuven Shiloah. The March 1951 meeting marked its reorganization under the prime minister’s office rather than its original creation.

A security state born divided

Mossad was initially tied to the Foreign Ministry and staffed by senior officers representing the other intelligence bodies: Shin Bet, or Shabak, responsible for internal security; Aman, or military intelligence; air force intelligence; and naval intelligence. Some of these branches were later merged, while others disappeared or were absorbed into the larger structure.

Thomas writes that Ben Gurion told the intelligence chiefs to give Mossad their “shopping list.” Where the agency obtained the “goods,” and what it paid for them, was none of their business.

By the early 1950s, Israel’s intelligence system had settled around three main services. Aman became the military intelligence arm supplying the army with information and national assessments. Shin Bet assumed responsibility for domestic intelligence, counterespionage, and what Israel defines as counterterrorism. Mossad took charge of covert activity and intelligence collection beyond the state’s borders.

Ronen Bergman writes in “Rise and Kill First” that these agencies occupied Israel’s “shadow world” from the outset. They were closely connected but institutionally separate, and all ultimately answered to the prime minister.

Parliamentary and legal oversight mechanisms do exist, including the Knesset’s intelligence subcommittee, but their reach has long been constrained by secrecy, compartmentalization, and direct executive control. Mossad’s operations in particular remain largely hidden from public scrutiny, while Shin Bet’s formal legal footing came only with the 2002 General Security Service Law.

Bergman notes that Israel departed from the model adopted by many other states, where intelligence gathering and covert operations remained institutionally separate. From the outset, operational units were embedded within Israel’s intelligence apparatus, with Mossad and Aman exercising direct control over their respective covert-action arms.

The aim was to turn intelligence into action without the delays imposed by a conventional chain of command. Other states might collect information in peacetime to prepare for a future war. Israel built services expected to run continuous operations behind enemy lines, often in the belief that covert violence could postpone a larger confrontation.

Mossad’s long arm abroad

Mossad is responsible for foreign intelligence and covert activity outside territories under direct Israeli control. Even when Shin Bet wants to meet one of its sources in Europe or Asia, the encounter ordinarily falls under Mossad’s jurisdiction. 

If Shin Bet seeks to recruit somebody abroad for later deployment in occupied Palestinian territory, Mossad can handle the overseas recruitment before transferring the source back to Shin Bet.

Its work covers intelligence collection and the disruption of operations directed against Israel or Israeli interests. Its special missions abroad can include sabotage, abduction, infiltration, and assassination. 

Israeli prime ministers approve the most sensitive operations, while Mossad gathers the intelligence needed to execute them. It also works with Aman on assessments of foreign states and armed organizations operating outside Israel.

The boundaries are not always clean. Israel’s attack on a Hamas leadership meeting in Doha on 9 September 2025 was announced as a joint military and Shin Bet operation, despite taking place on foreign soil. 

Some Israeli observers explained Shin Bet’s role by pointing to its standing responsibility for Palestinian organizations. Others saw a political attempt to keep Mossad at a distance, particularly because its director had participated in negotiations conducted through Qatar.

After the 1973 war, the Agranat Commission criticized Israel’s dependence on Aman’s assessments and recommended greater analytical pluralism. Mossad was among the bodies expected to develop an independent research capacity, reducing the danger that one military interpretation would dominate the entire system. Israel’s small pool of experienced researchers, however, repeatedly frustrated attempts to build a fully fledged civilian counterpart to Aman.

When Mossad’s legend began to crack

Mossad’s golden age began to fade after the January 2010 assassination of Hamas commander Mahmoud al-Mabhouh in Dubai. The killing succeeded, but Dubai’s surveillance network exposed the suspected hit team, its disguises, travel routes, and use of fraudulently obtained foreign passports. The operation damaged Mossad’s relations with several western states and punctured the mythology of an invisible service that left no trace.

Operations attributed to Mossad continued in Tunisia, Malaysia, and Iran, but Aman’s technological branches increasingly moved to the center of Israel’s security campaigns. Unit 8200 dominates signals collection and analysis, Unit 9900 handles visual and geospatial intelligence, and Unit 504 runs human sources for the military.

That rise did not spare Aman from responsibility for the failure preceding Operation Al-Aqsa Flood. Unit 8200 had gathered indications of Hamas preparations but failed to overturn the assumptions guiding the political and military leadership.

A previous decision had also left the unit without an operational presence near Gaza on 7 October 2023. Israel’s two-decade fixation on technological collection had produced an enormous volume of data while weakening the human and analytical judgment required to interpret it.

Even so, Mossad continues to dominate Israeli accounts of espionage. Its old operations offer agents under false identities, compromised sources, forged documents, intricate planning, and official denials. Military assassinations based on Aman’s intelligence carry less mystery. They are more visibly the work of aircraft, surveillance systems, target banks, and command rooms.

In practice, the two services frequently converge. The assassination of Hezbollah secretary-general Hassan Nasrallah in Beirut on 27 September 2024 was the product of years of intelligence penetration and military surveillance. 

Some Israeli assessments have attributed the killing of Hezbollah field commander Wissam al-Tawil in Khirbet Selm to Aman, but the evidence released publicly does not settle which service led the operation.

Mossad’s reputation received a major boost from the mass detonation of pagers and two-way radios across Lebanon on 17 and 18 September 2024. The devices killed civilians as well as Hezbollah personnel and wounded thousands. 

Mossad chief David Barnea later presented the operation as a turning point in the war, with revelations that the agency had established front companies and manipulated the communications supply chain.

The attack displayed precisely the sort of long-term infiltration on which Mossad’s reputation was built. It also showed why the division between intelligence gathering and operational violence is so difficult to locate inside Israel’s security establishment.

Mossad carried less immediate blame than Shin Bet and Aman for Operation Al-Aqsa Flood because Gaza fell primarily within their areas of responsibility. It did not escape criticism. The agency was expected to penetrate Hamas’s external leadership, while its defenders argued that plans for the Hamas-led operation had been concealed even from members of the political bureau abroad.

Shin Bet polices the occupation

Shin Bet is Israel’s designated internal security service. Alongside police investigators, it gathers information, interrogates suspects, pursues counterespionage cases, and monitors citizens who are outside the military chain of command.

Its mandate includes preventing attacks originating in Israel and the occupied Palestinian territories, blocking foreign intelligence activity inside the state, and protecting senior officials and state institutions. These functions place Shin Bet at the center of the machinery used to police Palestinians under occupation.

As Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) operations intensified between 1968 and 1970, Shin Bet underwent a major expansion. It received larger budgets and recruited more personnel, while Arabic speakers were transferred from Aman’s Unit 504, which specialized in handling Arab informants. From then on, suppressing the Palestinian resistance became the agency’s primary mission.

Gaza proved its most difficult arena. The territory is among the most densely populated places in the world, and its social networks made penetration difficult despite decades of occupation, surveillance, detention, and coercive recruitment. Shin Bet could not build its intelligence picture alone.

Ariel Sharon, who took command of the Israeli army’s Southern Command in 1969 and later became prime minister, deployed additional forces to Gaza in support of Shin Bet. The division of labor established during that period remains in place. Shin Bet recruits informants and conducts interrogations, while the army provides the firepower, surveillance systems, and personnel needed to act on its intelligence.

Shin Bet remains responsible for what Israel classifies as counterterrorism intelligence in the occupied West Bank and Gaza. It works with Aman on assessments of Palestinian organizations, political developments, and the likely consequences of Israeli measures. It also takes the lead on internal security assessments concerning Palestinian citizens of Israel and Jewish Israelis.

Arrests, movement permits, medical access, family pressure, and the threat of exposure can all become tools for recruitment. This makes Shin Bet’s human networks inseparable from the wider system of military rule under which they operate.

Aman: The intelligence army within an army

Aman is the Israeli army’s Military Intelligence Directorate. Its power rests partly on the breadth of responsibilities it accumulated through practice rather than a single law that clearly defines its limits. Critics have repeatedly questioned the scale of its remit, but Israel has no equivalent civilian body capable of replacing its research, collection, targeting, and operational functions.

The directorate collects military intelligence on targets beyond Israel’s borders and conducts intelligence campaigns abroad. It provides national-level warnings, identifies threats, assesses enemy capabilities and intentions, and prepares recommendations for the senior political and military leadership.

Aman also coordinates intelligence among the army’s land, air, and naval branches. It builds and updates target banks, supports joint operations, interrogates prisoners of war, and helps prepare war plans and emergency mobilization schemes. Its assessments can therefore shape both the definition of a threat and the force used against it.

Other intelligence bodies inside the military do not formally belong to Aman, including those attached to the air force, ground forces, and navy. They nevertheless share information and work alongside it. Each gathers intelligence for its branch commander, helping to develop forces and activate them when required.

The army’s four regional commands – Northern, Central, Southern, and Home Front – maintain their own intelligence departments. Aman supplies them with collection resources and guidance, while each prepares an assessment for its regional commander. These departments are institutionally separate from Aman’s central research bodies, although they feed into the wider collection effort.

At General Staff assessment sessions, a regional commander can present an interpretation that differs from Aman’s. In theory, this creates competing readings of developments in neighboring states and in the occupied West Bank and Gaza. In practice, the authority of Aman’s national assessment has often crowded out dissent, the very weakness exposed by the 1973 war and again before Operation Al-Aqsa Flood.

Unit 504 and the return of the human source

Unit 504 is Aman’s principal human intelligence arm. It recruits and runs agents deep inside enemy territory, giving the military access that satellites, intercepted communications, and visual surveillance cannot provide. A source close to a decision-making circle can reveal intentions, internal arguments, morale, and patterns of thought that no sensor can reliably capture.

The unit’s renewed prominence reflects the limits of Israel’s technological model. A Channel 12 report published in February 2026 said Unit 504 had undergone sweeping structural and operational changes since Operation Al-Aqsa Flood. Its personnel had doubled to include hundreds of agent handlers, combat personnel, and prisoner interrogators, while its field missions had expanded.

For the first time in the unit’s history, a female special-operations officer completed the full training program and qualified as an agent handler. The report said further female combat personnel were due to join after completing their training, serving in units responsible for protecting handlers during sensitive missions, including cross-border operations and meetings with human sources.

Aman will continue to depend heavily on Units 8200 and 9900, along with automated surveillance, artificial intelligence (AI), and the vast machinery used to generate targets. The expansion of Unit 504 reflects a lesson driven home by the Al-Aqsa Flood failure. Israel’s intelligence services had amassed enormous quantities of data but failed to understand what their adversary intended to do.

Israel’s three principal services remain divided by geography, institutional culture, and competition for access to the prime minister. Their mandates overlap whenever an operation crosses a border, moves from collection to assassination, or links Palestinian resistance to a wider regional front. 

Behind the separate names stands one security architecture, tying clandestine reach abroad to the occupation’s informant networks and the army’s capacity for force.

Syria's $200bn dream meets an economy in retreat

Damascus can sell a future of investment and regional revival from conference stages. The harder task is turning political power into institutions that can generate wealth, protect incomes, and restore a battered social contract. 

Syria may dream of a $200 billion economy, reclaiming its regional economic standing, and feeding 75 million people – or even 100 million with modern agricultural technology.

Self-appointed Syrian President Ahmad al-Sharaa (a former Al-Qaeda chief known as Abu Mohammad al-Julani) made all three claims at the Arab Media Summit in Dubai days ago. Ambition becomes dangerous, however, when it displaces economic reality, and publicity is used to obscure an increasingly harsh living reality.

Economies are measured by their capacity to produce wealth, provide work, protect incomes, and sustain essential services, rather than by the promises announced from summit platforms.

Across Syria, that divide is widening. Official rhetoric points toward recovery while households confront rising prices, eroding purchasing power, and services that remain weak or unaffordable. The gap raises questions about public policy, political credibility, and the ability of the authorities in Damascus to move from managing one emergency after another toward building effective state institutions.

Poverty has the last word

The scale of the crisis is laid bare in data from the Syrian Center for Policy Research. In May 2026, a reference household needed 3.437 million old Syrian pounds a month – around $254 – simply to remain above the extreme poverty line. 

The lower poverty threshold stood at 5.407 million pounds ($400), while the upper threshold reached 7.464 million ($552). The burden also differed considerably by governorate, ranging from 4.742 million pounds ($351) in Damascus to 2.176 million ($162) in Suwayda.

The same data shows that in April, the salary of a university-educated government employee covered only 33.3 percent of the reference household's extreme poverty line. A salary does not necessarily represent a family's entire income. 

Even so, the comparison exposes how far wages have fallen behind the cost of survival. For households without savings or reliable secondary income, every increase in the price of food or energy cuts directly into social stability.

These figures also expose the weakness of economic arguments built around national aggregates. A future rise in gross domestic product would mean little to families whose wages remain detached from the cost of basic goods. 

Growth becomes socially meaningful only when it creates work, strengthens household income, and restores access to services. Until then, the distance between the promised recovery and lived conditions will continue to expand.

Fuel shock spreads through the market

On 13 September, the Energy Ministry raised the diesel price from 125 to 175 new Syrian pounds per liter – an increase of 40 percent. The price of 95-octane gasoline rose to 195 pounds and 90-octane to 185. Officials blamed soaring international procurement costs and a major overhaul at the Baniyas Refinery, which has forced greater reliance on imports.

Higher fuel prices raise the cost of transport, agriculture, irrigation, manufacturing, generators, heating, and distribution, feeding quickly into food prices, fares, and service charges. Farmers and factory owners unable to absorb the increase or pass it on to consumers with little purchasing power may be forced to cut production.

Before the latest increase, Energy Minister Mohammad al-Bashir said the country was producing around 100,000 barrels per day (bpd) against requirements of up to 350,000. At a parliamentary hearing on 20 September, he put normal output closer to 140,000 barrels, saying it had dropped to 98,000 during road blockades, while average demand stood near 300,000 and could reach 325,000 to 350,000 in winter. The explanation accounts for some of the shifting figures, but also shows how difficult it is to assess policy when basic energy data emerge piecemeal.

That leaves Damascus facing a costly import dependence while lacking the fiscal means to shield households and productive sectors. Calling the rise temporary offers little comfort to a family with no reserves, a farmer unable to finance the next season, or a small workshop already surviving on a narrow margin.

Nor does the pressure stop when global prices ease. Transport operators and traders rarely reverse increases at the same speed with which they imposed them, while producers forced to reduce output may need months to recover. A supposedly temporary fuel shock can therefore become embedded in food prices, rents, and informal service charges long after the original justification has weakened.

Paying more for darkness

Electricity shows what happens when price reform runs ahead of service quality and purchasing power. The Syrian Center for Policy Research recorded annual increases of 48.9 percent for electricity, gas, and fuel in May 2026, while the broader housing, water, electricity, gas, and fuel category rose by 58.5 percent.

The official bill captures only part of the burden. Power cuts force households and businesses to buy generator fuel, pay for repairs, and absorb lost working hours. In industry and agriculture, unstable supply damages equipment, raises unit costs, and weakens competitiveness. Syrian manufacturers have already warned that higher electricity tariffs are landing on a sector already constrained by expensive fuel, scarce inputs, and weak domestic demand.

The case for higher tariffs rests on figures the government has yet to make public, including the true cost of generation, losses across the grid, the scale of subsidies, and the hours of electricity actually delivered. Raising bills while supply remains poor merely shifts the sector’s failures onto households already struggling to survive.

Syrians often pay once for state electricity and again for generators, batteries, or solar systems. Businesses fold the same costs into their prices, leaving households and small producers to carry an electricity bill that extends across the entire economy.

Investment by announcement

Reconstruction will require foreign capital, technology, and expertise, but investment cannot be measured by press releases or the headline value of agreements. What counts is the capital actually deployed, the jobs created, the domestic value retained, and the share of the returns that reaches the Syrian state.

Since western sanctions were eased, Damascus has unveiled a succession of prospective deals while pressing ahead with sweeping market reforms. Many remain memoranda of understanding rather than binding contracts. 

Until their terms are disclosed, there is no way to know whether they will rebuild Syria’s productive base or enrich politically connected intermediaries through privatization and long-term resource concessions.

Ports, real estate, and extractive projects may bring revenue without reviving domestic production. The greater test is whether foreign capital creates skilled employment, supports Syrian suppliers, and helps rebuild infrastructure. Otherwise, the country may exchange its present isolation for a new form of dependence.

A market built for insiders

Damascus is presenting the market as the answer to Syria’s economic collapse. Yet markets do not operate outside the state. They depend on courts that enforce contracts, regulators able to restrain monopolies, and public institutions that prevent essential services from becoming privileges reserved for those who can afford them.

None of those safeguards can be built overnight. Removing subsidies and freeing prices before genuine competition exists gives dominant traders and politically connected firms greater power over the market. 

Meanwhile, wages remain suppressed, and public services continue to deteriorate, leaving ordinary Syrians exposed to prices they cannot afford.

Economic liberalization may alter the state’s role, though it cannot absolve the authorities of responsibility for healthcare, education, infrastructure, and protection for vulnerable households. Withdrawal under these conditions would leave the market to those who already control contracts, capital, and political access.

Firefighting the backlash

A Syrian economist who spoke to The Cradle on condition of anonymity says the crisis extends beyond economic indicators to the relationship between the authorities and society. International and regional support may have given Damascus a temporary surplus of power, but control and foreign sponsorship cannot sustain legitimacy while living conditions continue to deteriorate.

The fuel protests revealed how much anger had already accumulated. On 13 September alone, the Armed Conflict Location and Event Data Project (ACLED) recorded 36 demonstrations linked to the price increase. Protesters blocked roads and halted oil tankers across several regions, forcing the government to offer cheaper diesel for heating, agriculture, industry, and selected service sectors.

The economist calls this a “firefighting” response, with concessions offered only after anger spills onto the streets. Subsidized diesel may ease the immediate pressure, though it does little to address wages that no longer cover basic needs or the continued collapse of electricity and public services.

When reality catches up

The promises made in Dubai bear little resemblance to the economy Syrians encounter each day. The government is asking a population already pushed into poverty to finance its reforms through higher prices, even as it withholds the figures needed to judge those policies and fails to improve the services people are paying more to receive.

Damascus has treated the crisis largely as a revenue problem, extracting more from households whose incomes have already collapsed. Foreign backing may shield the authorities from immediate political pressure, but it cannot prevent declining living standards from feeding public anger across the country.

Any credible recovery must begin with an admission of how far the economy has fallen. Forecasts are being presented as accomplishments, while agreements whose terms remain hidden are advertised as investments. For Syrians struggling to cover food and energy costs, such promises have little connection to daily life.

The $200 billion economy exists for now in speeches delivered at international summits. The economy Syrians know is one of depleted wages, struggling factories, and steadily rising living costs. No amount of publicity can close that gap.