Belgium’s Moral Crusade Against Israel Has a Price – Stop (H)arming Israel
There are moments when a government must stand firm. But there are also moments when it mainly poses as morally superior, while reality is more complex and dangerous than a press conference in Brussels. Belgium’s policy banning the export and transit of defence material to Israel increasingly falls into the second category. It is presented as principled, humane, and legally cautious. In reality, it risks turning into symbolic politics, selective outrage, and strategic self-harm. Belgium's moral crusade against Israel has a price, it is time to stop harming Israel instead to stop arming Israel.
Control over arms exports is necessary. No country should carelessly supply military equipment without oversight of end use, risks, and possible violations of international law. Especially in wartime, a democratic state governed by the rule of law must handle defence goods carefully. But there is a major difference between serious oversight and a politically motivated ban that hits one country exceptionally hard. Belgium increasingly seems to be crossing that line.
The ban fits into a broader political attitude in which Israel is no longer treated as a democratic ally facing an extraordinarily complex security problem, but as a suspect state that must be placed outside the moral community. That is dangerous. Israel is not just any actor in the Middle East. It is a democratic state in a region where it faces hostile regimes, militias, and terrorist organisations. For decades, the country has lived with rocket attacks, bombings, hostage-taking, border threats, and existential danger from organisations that openly pursue antisemitic and violent goals.
Anyone who forgets that turns foreign policy into a caricature. The war in Gaza has had terrible humanitarian consequences. Palestinian civilians have suffered enormously. That suffering deserves recognition. Criticism of Israeli military action is legitimate, sometimes even necessary. But criticism is different from structurally isolating Israel on defence matters, as if the country has no right to defend itself against enemies that do not recognise its existence.
Israel is on the front line in the fight against terrorism. That struggle is not taking place only in the Middle East, but also in Europe. Belgium knows this from its own experience, after the attacks in Zaventem and Brussels. Israel has an impressive track record in intelligence, counterterrorism, cybersecurity, and defence technology. Europe can benefit from that. It is therefore strange that Belgium is distancing itself from precisely this partner.
The Belgian government presents its policy as legal and technical. It speaks about licenses, end use, transit, dual-use goods, and international obligations. But behind that language lies a clear political choice: Israel is being singled out. The same zeal is not applied to other countries, often dictatorships, where human rights and international norms are under structural pressure. That is precisely why this policy feels selective.
Selectivity is fatal to credibility. A country that claims to act on moral principles must apply those principles broadly and consistently. When Belgium is strict toward Israel, but speaks more cautiously about states and movements that finance terrorism, oppress civilians, or cause regional instability, the impression arises that this is not about universal values, but about political fashion. Israel has become the ideal scapegoat in certain European circles: visible, democratic enough to be pressured, small enough to punish symbolically, and controversial enough to generate domestic applause.
That domestic applause seems important to politicians. Much of this policy does not appear designed to actually improve the situation in the Middle East, but to send a signal within Belgium: look how moral we are. But foreign policy is not moral theater. Its goal should be to promote security, law, and stability. A policy that feels good is not automatically good policy.
There is also an economic price. Belgium depends on trade, logistics, ports, technology, and international supply chains. Defence material is no longer limited to tanks, rifles, and ammunition. It often involves components, electronics, sensors, software, protection systems, communication technology, and goods that can be used for both civilian and military purposes. When the government imposes broad restrictions on export and transit, uncertainty arises for companies operating in complex international networks.
For logistics companies, predictability is essential. A port, airport, or transport company cannot function when every political shift creates the risk that flows of goods will suddenly be blocked. Today, Israel is the target. Tomorrow, another destination may become politically controversial. Companies and NATO partners, such as the United States, will wonder whether Belgium is still a reliable link. They may reroute shipments, postpone investments, or choose countries where the rules are clearer and less dependent on political pressure.
Belgium’s defence industry and technology sector are also affected. Defence cooperation is not only a matter of supplying, but also of learning. Israel is an important player in air defence, drones, cybersecurity, sensors, border security, emergency medical technology, and military innovation. A country that constantly lives under threat is forced to develop advanced security solutions. By reducing the relationship to suspicion and embargoes, Belgium cuts itself off from knowledge and cooperation that are becoming more important in an increasingly dangerous world.
The United States and Israel will take into account who their reliable partners are when it comes to defence exports and intelligence sharing. Suppose American defence companies want to produce weapons in Belgium and later supply them to Israel. Will Belgium block that? The result will not be that Israel does not receive those weapons. The consequence may be that Belgium loses investment, exports, and strategic relevance. In the worst case, Belgium itself may be left without defence capabilities it urgently needs now that Europe must rebuild its security.
That world is becoming more dangerous. Russia is waging war against Ukraine. Iran threatens Israel directly and indirectly and supports armed groups in the region. China is expanding its military power. Terrorist networks are not disappearing. Cyberattacks are increasing. Meanwhile, Europe says it wants to become more strategically autonomous. Yet at the same time, Belgium treats defence cooperation as suspicious as soon as Israel is involved. That is contradictory. You cannot advocate for a stronger security policy while politically contaminating a democratic security partner.
The Belgian government’s argument is that it does not want to contribute to possible violations of international law. That principle is understandable. A state governed by the rule of law should not supply goods when there is a clear risk that they will be used for war crimes. But that is exactly why a general political blockade is a blunt instrument. A better approach would be strict case-by-case assessment, clear end-use controls, no arms exports to dictatorships, and diplomatic pressure where necessary. That is mature policy. A broad ban that mainly targets one country is a political gesture.
Belgium is also reducing its own influence. Influence exists when you remain involved, can set conditions, conduct dialogue, and use cooperation as leverage. Those who remove themselves from the chain have less say. Israel will meet its defence needs elsewhere. The world does not stop because Belgium takes a moral position. Other countries will take over the role. The result is not less war, but less Belgian influence.
The policy also has a harmful social effect. It reinforces polarisation around Israel and the Palestinians. Anyone who defends Israel’s security is quickly portrayed as indifferent to Palestinian suffering. Anyone who stands up for Palestinian civilians is assumed to automatically support sanctions against Israel. That is a false contradiction. One can simultaneously recognise that Palestinian civilians deserve protection, that Hamas is a terrorist organisation, that Israel has the right to self-defence, and that military action must remain bound by legal limits.
Belgium should choose a different path: not uncritically pro-Israel, but fairer, more consistent, and more strategic. Strictly control defence exports, but do so case by case. Be critical of civilian casualties, but recognise Israel’s security reality. Speak about Palestinian rights, but also about the destructive role of Hamas and other armed groups. Use diplomacy to preserve influence, not embargoes to display moral purity. And be consistent: anyone who uses human rights as a standard must apply that standard everywhere.
No country deserves a blank check. But Israel also does not deserve exceptional treatment as a pariah. You criticise an ally when necessary, but you do not lightly cut it off in a region where enemies are waiting. Belgium should understand that security, law, and diplomacy do not have to stand in opposition to one another. The current export and transit ban pretends that they do.
When moral zeal defeats strategic judgment, foreign policy becomes a stage play. Belgium likes to cast itself in the role of principled peacemaker. But behind the applause lies an uncomfortable truth: this policy does not make Belgium more influential, safer, or more consistent. It mainly makes Belgium more self-righteous. And self-righteousness is a poor guide in a world that is becoming ever more dangerous.
Image credits: Resource Database via Unsplash
