When an Error Is Treated With an Even Greater Error

Solving problems through other problems is a different kind of art; an art that does not require mastery as much as it requires the absence of it. Some crises are not solved. They are merely moved from one place to another, or given a new name and a different shape, while their roots remain unchanged. Worse still, some solutions do not merely relocate the problem; they give it wider space to grow.

A pattern has repeated itself in international politics for years: the belief that getting rid of the current problem is enough, while the more important question is left aside: what comes after it?

In Afghanistan, the long war fought by the United States and its allies ended, but the final result was the Taliban's return to power and its control of the country after two decades of fighting. The Taliban problem disappeared, and the internationally recognized "state" of Taliban appeared.

In Lebanon, the assassination of Hassan Nasrallah created security and political vacuums and shifts that led many to speak about the growing activity of other hardline currents and organizations in fragile environments, especially the city of Tripoli once again.

In Syria, the fall of the former regime was presented as the entrance to a different phase. But the scene ended with the rise of a leadership headed by Abu Muhammad al-Julani, recently known as Ahmad al-Sharaa, while the flags of ISIS and al-Nusra began appearing in every Syrian neighborhood. Thus, the conflict moved from confronting an adversary in order to end his extremism to giving him the very authority he had sought, along with international legitimacy.

In eastern Syria, al-Hol camp was regarded as a growing security threat because it contained thousands of people connected to ISIS and their families. When the camp itself became the problem, the proposed solution was to dismantle part of this human mass and redistribute it among different countries and societies. Here the same question appeared again: did the problem end, or did it leave its narrow place and become global?

Today, the same scene is repeated with Iran. Every round of pressure or confrontation that was supposed to weaken it has often ended with opposite results: its capabilities expanded, its regional presence was strengthened, or its security and military institutions became more cohesive. It is as if the attempt to contain the problem became part of the reasons for its growth.

These files may seem geographically and politically distant from one another, but one thread connects them: the belief that removing the existing danger is sufficient in itself, even if the alternative contains the seeds of a greater danger. In this way, crisis management often turns from an attempt to solve problems into a continuous process of producing new problems that are more complex than those that came before them.

What unites these events is not the similarity of the actors or the similarity of geography, but the similarity of the way of thinking that produced them.

Since the Taliban's return to power in Afghanistan, through the transformations witnessed in Syria, and up to the new balances in Lebanon and Palestine, a recurring pattern appears: an attempt to solve the crisis of organizations by granting them what they were originally seeking: power, influence, legitimacy, or freedom of movement.

This approach is often presented as realistic and practical. It is said that the alternative is more costly, and that the current settlement is less harmful than the continuation of conflict. But the problem is that this kind of thinking looks at the crisis from a very narrow angle. It seeks to close an urgent file, not to understand what will happen years afterward.

In this way, the problem shifts from a political crisis that can be negotiated into a new reality that is difficult to change. Before the Taliban came to power, the conflict revolved around who would govern Afghanistan. Today the question is different: how can this reality be changed without a new war?

The same issue repeats itself in other cases. When an organization, current, or movement becomes an existing authority, dealing with it becomes far more complicated than dealing with it when it was merely one political or military actor among many. Over time, networks of interests, institutions, agencies, supporters, and beneficiaries form around it. Changing it then turns from a political question into a full regional crisis.

This is why many of these files moved from a phase in which political solutions were possible to a phase in which any attempt at change carries the risk of an explosion wider than the original problem itself. Instead of solving the crisis, its cost and complexity were raised to a new level.

The paradox is that all of this is usually presented as success. But real success is not measured only by ending today's problem. It is measured by preventing the birth of a larger problem tomorrow. What happened in many of these files was exactly the opposite: the direct symptoms of the crisis were handled, while the deeper causes were left to grow and gain greater strength over time.

If al-Hol camp represents a ticking security bomb, then the question is not how to get rid of the camp, but what will happen after it is dismantled. If the fall of a political regime represents an urgent goal, then the question is not only who will leave power, but who will replace him. If containing an extremist organization is necessary, then the question is not how to stop it today, but whether the method used will make it stronger tomorrow.

The problem is not that these crises are difficult to solve. The problem is that many of the policies used to address them treat them as separate files, while in reality they are links in a single chain. Each time a short-term crisis is solved, a more complex and harder-to-contain reality is born from within it.

Thus, we find ourselves facing a recurring pattern: a problem is solved by giving its owners what they had sought from the beginning, and then, years later, the result turns into a problem larger than the one that was supposed to be solved.

Here the concept reaches its most sensitive point, which may be called, within some of these organizations, the "doctrine of empowerment."

According to this view, empowerment is not seen as a final goal, but as a means within a longer path. Reaching power or influence is not the end of the project; it is a phase that enables movement into a broader, more widespread, and more entrenched phase.

In this sense, what some see as "containment," "settlement," or a "practical solution" becomes part of an entirely different path in the eyes of these organizations: a path based on turning a temporary opportunity into a permanent base, and investing the new reality to expand presence rather than reduce it.

This is where the central problem in this type of crisis management becomes clear. When policies are built on the assumption that empowerment leads to moderation, while the other side sees empowerment as a step within a larger project, the natural result is a distortion in understanding the purpose of the decision itself.

What is considered, in the traditional political mind, the end of the conflict may be understood within the structure of these organizations as the beginning of a new phase.

From the position of observing these events, it is impossible to say with certainty that everything that happened was necessarily wrong. Some of the figures and regimes that were removed did indeed represent real problems. But the issue does not lie in removing these realities in themselves. It lies in the method followed in dealing with them.

Therefore, the real question is not why these organizations continue to appear, but why the same policies continue to grant them the same opportunities.

All the previous examples, from Afghanistan to Syria, and from al-Hol camp to the migration file, share one point: the belief that treating the current crisis is enough, without studying whether the method used will give the same project stronger tools to continue expanding later.

Perhaps for this reason, some events appear to be repeated mistakes, while the owners of those organizations may see them as accumulated achievements. What one side sees as a forced concession may be seen by the other side as an additional step toward a farther goal.

In the end, the most important question that should be asked may not be: how do we solve the current crisis? Rather: what will the world look like ten years after this solution?

History is full of crises that ended. But it is also full of solutions that created crises greater than themselves. And this is where the real story begins.

Zion Peace Union