When Israel comes under fire, international airlines suspend flights to Tel Aviv within hours—driven by rising risk, insurance costs, and airspace uncertainty. In the current 2026 war, following U.S.–Israeli strikes on Iran and the reported killing of brutal dictator Ali Khamenei, that pattern repeated immediately: foreign carriers halted their flights and left Israel. However, El Al did not—and that difference is strategic.

For a country shaped by geographic isolation and constant security pressure, connectivity is not a convenience; it is a requirement. Thus, El Al unequivocally ensures that Israel remains physically linked to the outside world precisely when that linkage is most likely to collapse. The question now is not theoretical but immediate: in the middle of this war, will El Al once again bring back Israelis stranded abroad? Historically, the answer has been yes—and decisively so.

The pattern has repeated across every major crisis. During the 1991 Gulf War, the Second Intifada, after October 7, during the 2025 Israel–Iran confrontation, and now again in 2026, foreign carriers exited almost instantly because commercial logic dictated withdrawal. As capacity disappeared, El Al did not simply maintain operations—it expanded them.

Under normal conditions, foreign airlines provide roughly 60 to 70 percent of inbound capacity. When they withdraw, that capacity does not decline gradually—it vanishes. El Al, which typically holds 25 to 35 percent of the market, scales up to carry between 44 and 70 percent of passenger traffic during wartime peaks, while taking over 38 of 53 key international routes. Therefore, this is not a market adjustment; it is a rapid strategic substitution.

After the October 7, 2023, genocidal attack, more than 300,000 reservists were mobilized, many of whom needed to return from abroad on short notice. El Al responded with near-continuous long-haul rotations, effectively becoming a bridge for force mobilization. In 2025, Israel’s main airport handled 18.5 million passengers, of which approximately 6.9 million flew with El Al—anchoring national movement under active conflict conditions.

At the same time, the airline sustained outbound evacuation flows while preserving inbound access. Tens of thousands of foreign nationals and dual citizens were able to leave, even as critical personnel and travelers continued to arrive. This dual function—moving people out while keeping the country open—is not a commercial feature; it is a strategic capability. Ergo, in the current 2026 escalation, that same dual-track mission is already reemerging.

Nonetheless, this approach is not new. In 1991, during Operation Solomon, El Al secretly airlifted more than 14,000 Ethiopian Jews in just 36 hours, including a single flight carrying 1,088 passengers. These missions were not driven by market demand but by national necessity—and that same logic governs El Al today as Israelis once again look for a way home amid war.

Even so, what makes this sustainable is not only policy, but capability. El Al is the only commercial airline equipped with onboard missile defense systems, including infrared countermeasures designed to defeat heat-seeking threats. On the other hand, its crews are trained to operate in high-risk environments, and its flight planning integrates security alongside commercial considerations. In a threat environment where Hezbollah, Hamas, and Iranian-aligned actors possess missile and drone capabilities, this is not an advantage—it is what makes operations possible.

Meanwhile, the economic dimension reinforces the strategic one. In 2024, El Al generated approximately $3.4 billion in revenue, and in 2025 it yielded 3.47 billion dollars, with net profits of about $545 million—roughly 0.6 to 0.7 percent of Israel’s GDP.

More importantly, aviation underpins sectors far beyond the airline itself. Tourism alone accounts for roughly 3 to 5 percent of Israel’s GDP and, in 2025, rebounded to 1.34 million visitors—a 38 percent increase enabled by restored connectivity. Without that gateway, disruption would be immediate and measured in billions.

In parallel, comparative cases clarify the stakes. Ukraine’s aviation sector shut down after 2022. Russia’s Aeroflot continues to operate, but under sanctions and restricted access. Iran Air reflects what long-term isolation looks like. Israel, by contrast, remains connected under sustained threat—and that continuity rests on El Al.

By all indications, that is why state support must be understood in strategic, not commercial, terms. In my opinion, El Al is not designed for efficiency in stable conditions; it is built for resilience in unstable ones. With a fleet of roughly 47 aircraft serving nearly 50 destinations, and wartime load factors exceeding 90 percent, it is structured to absorb shocks and expand precisely when others pull back.

Across successive crises, El Al does not simply move passengers—it preserves Israel’s ability to function under pressure. Without it, reliance on foreign carriers would translate into immediate vulnerability across military, economic, and social domains.

In that sense, El Al is not just an airline—it is a mechanism of national continuity. And in modern conflict, connectivity is what prevents coercion because a state that cannot be isolated cannot be strategically constrained.

And in a war where enemies seek to encircle and isolate the State of Israel, El Al’s continued flights are not transportation but proof that the strategy has already failed.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)