Picture a quiet evening at Ben-Gurion International Airport. A plane lands, and down the steps comes a 71-year-old Israeli citizen. But this is no return from an exotic holiday. This man, recently back from a covert mission to Iran, had met with his Iranian handlers. His assignment: to penetrate Israeli society and gather intelligence on senior figures.
For a brief moment, his arrest by the Shin Bet security agency rattled the nation. But when his sentencing came down, 10 years in prison, no fine, the shock turned to a whisper. Moti Maman, convicted of grave espionage, is expected to serve only about three years due to mitigating circumstances. No real deterrent. It was as if a burglar caught red-handed had been sent home with a stern warning.
Iran's tactic: digital phishing at scale
Iran's Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps has discarded the slow, resource-heavy traditions of classical espionage: no more lengthy vetting, grueling training, or elaborate cover stories. Instead, they've embraced a model that's raw, direct, and disturbingly effective. Through aggressive mass campaigns on social media, thousands of Israelis are being approached. Messages like "Want to earn some easy cash?" now pepper the digital landscape. No serious screening or background checks, just a Telegram or email message offering money for a "simple task." Track a senior figure. Snap a photo of a base. Willing to try? You're in.
This is Iran's version of digital marketing applied to espionage: blanket targeting, no filters. And like any marketing effort, only a tiny fraction need to respond for the campaign to succeed. To Tehran, even a one percent success rate from a thousand messages is worth it. It's a chillingly rational approach: volume will eventually produce the quality they seek. And sadly, it works.
Iran treats its Israeli recruits not as valuable "assets," but as disposable tools. Their safety and fate are irrelevant. What matters is short-term gain. A Persian proverb captures it well: "The patient enemy triumphs over the hasty and sweaty." Iran isn't in a rush. It doesn't invest heavily in any one recruit. It casts a wide net, knowing that even a few successful catches are enough. The cost of "customer acquisition" is virtually zero, while the potential damage is immense. This isn't brilliant strategy, it's just relentless. Like a company that keeps advertising a faulty product, knowing someone will eventually buy.
Justice system lags behind
The Shin Bet does impressive work uncovering and thwarting these plots time and again. But once a case reaches the courtroom, the system falters. Weak evidence claims, outdated legal frameworks, and lenient sentencing all contribute to a breakdown in deterrence. Today's espionage doesn't involve trench coats and dead drops, it happens on Facebook, paid in dollars. Yet the legal response still treats it like a relic of another era.
World powers have tried mass recruitment strategies before, and failed spectacularly. During the Cold War, the US attempted to enlist civilians in Eastern Europe, especially Czechoslovakia, for propaganda and espionage. Nearly all were caught and publicly humiliated. The Soviet Union tried a similar approach in the 1950s in the US, with most agents captured by the FBI.
But Iran, unlike those states, has little to lose. As one old principle goes: "If even one in a thousand efforts succeeds, it's worth it." That's especially true when failures carry virtually no consequences for the recruiting state, and barely any for the recruited individuals.
The Shin Bet investigates, arrests, and prevents. But once the case enters the legal system, the same pattern unfolds: "evidentiary difficulties" and a gradual erosion of deterrence. Prosecutors rarely push for maximum penalties, and judges rely on outdated sentencing norms ill-suited to the diffuse, digital nature of modern espionage.
The recent case involving Iranian attempts to recruit young Israelis to target Defense Minister Israel Katz underscores a troubling shift. This wasn't just spying, it was an effort to threaten Israel's leadership. Iran is trying to rewrite the rules of engagement, to instill fear at the highest levels.
Time for a paradigm shift
The time has come for a radical change. Mandatory minimum sentences for espionage offenses, without room for leniency. Heavy financial penalties, multiples of the compensation received by the spy. Broad asset forfeitures, to ensure that espionage simply doesn't pay. And in extreme cases of betrayal, serious consideration should be given to revoking citizenship.
As in business, when the cost of failure is negligible, failure itself can start to look like a "smart risk." If spies are released quickly, without fines, stigma, or financial ruin, the message is clear: Go ahead and try. Worst case, you'll get a slap on the wrist and a short timeout.
