Evil Is Not a Metaphor

“The problem with you Americans is that you don’t believe in evil.” This observation, voiced in The Last Jihad by Joel Rosenberg, carries genuine weight for anyone trying to understand the Middle East today. Rosenberg uses the thriller genre to illuminate the cultural logic, theological motivation, and strategic thinking of movements that the Western mind tends to misread. His core insight is not that evil is everywhere, but that certain ideologies embrace it with a coherence and conviction that the secular West finds almost literally unimaginable.

We saw this evil on October 7, 2023. The atrocities committed by Hamas against Israeli civilians—the deliberate murder of families in their homes, the abduction of children and elderly, the systematic brutality—were documented on video, many by the perpetrators themselves. Yet surveys in the months that followed found large numbers of Western college students either doubting the events occurred or defending their perpetrators. This is not primarily a failure of information; it is a failure of moral imagination. A worldview that has evacuated the category of genuine evil will struggle to recognize it even when it appears on camera.

As believers, we affirm that the physical world is not all there is. Behind geopolitical conflict, ancient hatreds, and the peculiar intensity of hostility toward the Jewish people and the State of Israel, Scripture invites us to see a spiritual dimension. That is the lens through which this essay is written.

The Seed of the Woman: A Biblical Framework

To understand what is happening in the Middle East today, we need to start at the beginning—literally. In Genesis 3, after the fall of Adam and Eve, God addresses the serpent with these words: “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring; he shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel” (Genesis 3:15 ESV). Theologians call this the protoevangelium—the first gospel—and it sets the narrative arc for all that follows in Scripture.

The passage introduces five participants: the serpent, the woman, the offspring of the serpent, the collective offspring of the woman, and a singular hero from among that offspring who will deliver the decisive blow against the serpent. As the biblical story unfolds, the genealogical focus narrows. Abraham is promised offspring as numerous as the stars, and that same word—“seed”—carries through to the covenant with Isaac, Jacob, and ultimately to the twelve sons of Jacob, whom God renames Israel. From this point forward, the Bible traces not one individual family line but the destiny of an entire nation. Jacob’s deathbed blessing over Judah adds precision: “The scepter shall not depart from Judah, nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet, until Shiloh comes” (Genesis 49:10 NASB). Within Israel, from the tribe of Judah, the ultimate Deliverer will emerge.

Christians across many traditions affirm that this promise finds its fulfillment in Yeshua (Jesus). The position this essay adopts is that God’s covenant purposes for the nation of Israel remain active and are historically on the path to greater fulfillment. The people of Israel are not merely a vehicle through whom Messiah came; they are participants in an ongoing covenant story. This reading is not universally shared among biblical Christians, but it is held by a great many and it provides a coherent explanation for the unique and relentless hostility the Jewish people have faced across centuries and continents.

Antisemitism itself is the reflection of an age-old conflict between the divine forces for good and those that flow from the father of lies and his army of fallen angels, which seek to destroy the Jewish people and the purposes of God in this world.

If we take seriously the spiritual warfare Scripture describes, then we should not be surprised that the people through whom God chose to work in redemptive history have faced disproportionate opposition. Antisemitism is one form of this Satanic opposition to God’s plans for a bright future for Israel, whom He promised to use to bless the nations of the world (Genesis 12:1–3). This opposition it is not merely political. This is why it is oftentimes called, “the oldest hatred.”

The Prophecy of Jerusalem and the Urgency of the Present

Yeshua himself made a striking statement about the conditions surrounding his return. In Matthew 23:39, he declared: “For I tell you, you will not see me again, until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’” This saying is a quotation from Psalm 118:26, and in its original context, those words are spoken by the inhabitants of Jerusalem welcoming the one who comes in the name of the LORD. Yeshua appears to be indicating that his return is connected to a moment when the Jewish people welcome their Messiah.

We affirm that God’s sovereignty governs the fulfillment of this prophecy. No human strategy can force or prevent what God has determined. But the passage does illuminate why, from a spiritual-warfare perspective, opposition to Israel’s existence carries such intensity. If Yeshua’s return is in some way connected to the spiritual readiness of the Jewish people, then those forces aligned against God’s purposes have every reason to prevent both. We are not claiming that every political dispute over Israel is spiritually motivated. We are saying that the category of spiritual opposition to God’s covenant with Israel is real, biblical, and helps to explain patterns that purely political analysis struggles to account for.

Iran, the Houthis, and the Theology of Destruction

Until 1979, Iran and Israel maintained a strategic partnership. Iranian Jews lived openly in Tehran. The two countries cooperated on intelligence, commerce, and regional security. Then came the Islamic Revolution, and within months of Ayatollah Khomeini’s return to Iran, the new Islamic Republic severed ties with Israel, began funding the PLO, and made the destruction of the Jewish state a cornerstone of its foreign policy. The shift was not primarily driven by territorial dispute, resource competition, or historical grievance. It was theological.

The Islamic Republic of Iran, and the proxy network it subsequently built—Hezbollah in Lebanon, Hamas in Gaza, the Houthis in Yemen, various militias in Iraq and Syria—is animated by a specific ideological vision: that the State of Israel is an illegitimate entity whose elimination is a religious obligation, and that this elimination is a necessary precondition for a particular vision of Islamic eschatology. Most Iranians have never met a Jewish person. The depth of hostility they have been taught to feel toward Israel has no ordinary political explanation. It has been cultivated from above, through religious institutions, state media, and a theological framework that explicitly calls for Israel’s destruction.

We do not say this to condemn the Iranian people, the vast majority of whom have shown remarkable courage in resisting their own government’s brutality, particularly in the protests following the murder of Mahsa Amini in 2022. The ordinary Iranian is not the enemy. The ideological regime that has weaponized Islam against the Jewish people—and against its own citizens—is something else. And behind that regime, as behind every human system that organizes itself around the destruction of Israel, we see the fingerprints of the serpent who has been working this strategy since Genesis 3.

The Western Failure of Moral Clarity

One of the most painful features of this conflict has been the response of significant portions of the Western world. European governments and many international bodies have consistently applied a standard for Israel’s conduct of war that is applied to no other democracy defending itself against a declared and vicious enemy. More United Nations (UN) resolutions have been passed against Israel than against any other nation on earth. Arms embargos have been threatened or implemented against Israel by countries that continue to arm regimes with far worse human rights records. This is not, at its root, a coherent political position. It is a moral incoherence that demands explanation.

Part of the explanation is the one Rosenberg identifies: the Western mind, shaped by decades of post-Enlightenment optimism and secular assumptions, genuinely struggles to believe in categorical evil. When Western leaders call for ceasefire with an adversary that has publicly and repeatedly declared its intention to destroy Israel entirely—not to negotiate borders, not to secure rights, but to eliminate the state and its people—they are reasoning from a framework that assumes good-faith negotiating partners exist on both sides. That assumption is sometimes correct. With ideological movements committed to genocide as a theological duty, it is catastrophically wrong.

This is not an argument against all ceasefire proposals or against humanitarian concern for Palestinian civilian life, which is genuine and weighty. Sincere Christians hold a range of views on the specific conduct of Israel’s military campaign and on the political future of Gaza. These are legitimate areas of disagreement. What is not a legitimate area of disagreement for those who take Scripture seriously is whether the existence and security of Israel should be embraced. And those who would deny Israel’s covenantal right to the land are doing spiritual harm, perhaps unwittingly.

The Ancient War Behind the Modern Conflict: Daniel, Michael, and the Prince of Persia

When we speak of a spiritual dimension to the conflict between Iran and Israel, we are not speaking in metaphor. Scripture gives us a remarkably concrete glimpse of what that dimension looks like—and it is found in one of the most striking passages in the Old Testament. In Daniel 10, the prophet has been fasting and praying for three weeks when an angelic messenger finally arrives to explain the delay. The explanation is extraordinary: “The prince of the kingdom of Persia withstood me twenty-one days, but Michael, one of the chief princes, came to help me, for I was left there with the kings of Persia” (Daniel 10:13 ESV). A few verses later the messenger adds: “But now I will return to fight against the prince of Persia; and when I go out, behold, the prince of Greece will come. But I will tell you what is inscribed in the book of truth: there is none who contends by my side against these except Michael, your prince” (Daniel 10:20–21 ESV).

This passage reveals that behind the rise and fall of earthly empires, and behind the geopolitical maneuvering of Persia and Greece, there are angelic and demonic powers contending for influence over nations. The “prince of Persia” and the “prince of Greece” are not human rulers; they are supernatural beings aligned against God’s purposes, using earthly empires as instruments. And standing against them, specifically as the angelic advocate for Israel, is Michael—described elsewhere in Scripture as “the great prince who has charge of your people” (Daniel 12:1).

The implications for our present moment are significant. The geographic entity that was ancient Persia is, with remarkable continuity, the nation we call Iran today. The Islamic Republic of Iran did not invent its enmity toward the Jewish people and the purposes of God; it inherited and intensified a spiritual hostility that Daniel’s vision tells us has been active since at least the sixth century before Christ. When the Ayatollah’s regime chants for the destruction of Israel, when it funds proxy armies on Israel’s northern and southern borders, and when it launches ballistic missiles at Israeli cities, it is acting—knowingly or not—as an instrument of the same principality that resisted God’s messenger in Daniel’s day. The conflict between Iran and Israel is not merely a modern geopolitical dispute. It has ancient roots, and those roots go deeper than politics or religion. They go all the way down into the unseen architecture of spiritual warfare.

Notice also the pattern Daniel reveals when one empire aligned against Israel is checked, another rises to take its place. Persia gives way to Greece. Throughout history we could trace this succession—Babylon, Persia, Greece, Rome, and the long line of nations and empires that have, in varying degrees, organized themselves around the suppression or destruction of the Jewish people. The particulars change, but the underlying spiritual dynamic does not. This is why the disproportionate hostility toward Israel that we observe in international institutions today should not surprise us. It is not a new phenomenon with a purely political explanation. It is the latest expression of a very old war.

Ephesians 6 and the Earthly Theater of a Heavenly War

Daniel 10 shows us the heavenly dimension of the battle. The New Testament shows us how ordinary believers participate in it. Paul’s famous passage in Ephesians 6:10–13 is worth reading in full while the prophet Daniel’s words are fresh in our minds: “Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore, take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm” (Ephesians 6:10–13 ESV).

The “rulers,” “authorities,” and “cosmic powers” Paul describes—the Greek words ἀἰραί and εἐουσίαι—are the same category of beings that Daniel encountered in his vision. These are not vague spiritual forces; they are organized, purposeful, and assigned to specific domains. Paul’s point is startling and important: when the principality over Persia resisted God’s messenger for twenty-one days, it was Daniel’s prayer and fasting that kept the heavenly engagement alive. The angelic messenger who finally arrives tells Daniel plainly that he came “because of your words” (Daniel 10:12). Daniel’s intercession on earth was directly connected to what was happening in the heavenly conflict above.

This is not a peripheral or speculative point. It is one of the clearest biblical affirmations that human prayer genuinely engages the heavenly realm—that what we do on earth in intercession has real effects in the unseen battle above. Paul’s “armor of God” passage moves seamlessly from describing the nature of the spiritual conflict (verse 12) to prescribing the believer’s engagement with it: truth, righteousness, the gospel of peace, faith, salvation, and “the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God” (Ephesians 6:17). The armor is not passive protection. The sword of the Spirit—Scripture itself, wielded in prayer and proclamation—is an offensive weapon in a war that is simultaneously fought in the heavens and on the earth.

What does this mean for how we respond to the Iran–Israel conflict? It means that those who pray for Israel, intercede for the Jewish people, and declare the promises of Scripture over that land are not simply engaged in a sentimental religious exercise. They are participating—in the way Daniel participated—in the very conflict that has been underway since the sixth century BC and before. The missiles launched from Iranian soil are a physical expression of a spiritual hostility. The prayers offered in churches, homes, and Messianic congregations around the world are a physical expression of a spiritual counter-offensive. We do not fight as those who are losing. Michael, the prince who stands for Israel, is on the field. And the God who sent him has already declared the outcome.

This framework also reframes how we think about the role of gospel proclamation in this conflict. The work of our Chosen People Ministries team in Israel is not merely running a religious program alongside a geopolitical crisis. They are engaged in the most strategically significant work possible: the proclamation of the gospel to Jewish people, calling them into relationship with their Messiah. Every Jewish person who comes to faith in Yeshua is a person whose eyes have been opened to the truth that the spiritual powers over this age have been trying to obscure. Evangelism is not a footnote to the conflict. In a very real biblical sense, it is the heart of it.

How Then Shall We Live?

If the framework above is correct, what does it ask of us? Several things, depending on where we live and what roles we occupy.

For those of us living in Israel, the call is threefold: 1) to defend our people and our land with the moral clarity and human dignity that Scripture demands; 2) to share the gospel with Jewish people who have often been told that Yeshua is not for them; and 3) to embody in daily life the hope and love that come from knowing the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. We live in a country where rockets have struck our ministry centers, and where our colleagues mourn friends and family members killed or taken hostage. The stakes are not abstract.

For those living in Western countries, we would encourage three things as well:

First, speak truthfully. When the narrative around you flattens the moral distinction between a democratic state defending itself and an ideological movement committed to genocide, say so clearly and without apology. Truth-telling in the face of social pressure is a form of moral courage that Scripture commends.

Second, advocate for your governments to maintain principled support for Israel’s right to exist and defend itself—while also demanding that this support be accompanied by the accountability and human standards that any democracy should uphold. These two commitments are not in tension; they reflect the same moral seriousness.

Third, pray. Pray for the Jewish people. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem in the fullest biblical sense: for the shalom of a city that one day will recognize and welcome its Messiah. Pray also for the people of Iran, Yemen, and Gaza who have been manipulated and deceived by leaders who use religion as a weapon.

Believe in Evil, Invest in Hope

In his book The Last Jihad, Rosenberg’s fictional leaders warn their Western counterparts that when Iran’s rulers threaten to wipe Israel off the map, they mean it. History has shown repeatedly that this kind of warning deserves to be taken seriously. The Holocaust was announced before it was implemented. The ideology of Hamas is written into its charter.

The 1988 Hamas Charter: Their Founding Document

Hamas’s charter states plainly: “Israel will exist and will continue to exist until Islam will obliterate it.” The 1988 charter defines the Palestinian struggle as being against the Jewish people, and calls for the eventual creation of an Islamic Palestinian state and the obliteration or dissolution of Israel.

The Hamas charter is not a relic or a diplomatic formality. It is a mission statement—written before the organization committed its first act of violence, never formally revoked, and acted upon with full brutality on October 7. This is precisely the point Rosenberg is making: when movements organized around the destruction of Israel say what they intend to do, the West’s failure to take them at their word is not sophistication. It is a naïve and moral failure that does not respect the views of those who are non-Western and do not uphold biblical values. And, in the biblical framework he is developing, it is also a failure to recognize the ancient spiritual hostility that Scripture has been describing since Daniel 10.

The chants of the Houthis include “Death to Israel” not as hyperbole but as mission statement. Yet recognizing evil does not necessarily lead to despair. For those of us who know the end of the story—who have read that the serpent’s head will be crushed, that Yeshua will return, and that the God of Israel keeps his promises—we have a settled confidence that no geopolitical crisis can shake. But that confidence is meant to energize engagement, not excuse withdrawal. We live in the light of what God has revealed. Let us bring that light to the darkness around us, with both the clarity to name what we are seeing and the love to reach those who have been deceived by the darkness.

The God who called Abraham, brought his descendants out of Egypt, and returned them to their land after Babylon and after the Shoah, is not finished with Israel. And He is not finished with the world He loves.

That is our ground. Let us stand on it.