Shalom all,
Israel enters the final days before its October 27 election with an extraordinary contradiction. After three years of war, regional confrontation and national trauma, Israelis are being asked to make a political decision about the country’s future while many of the questions that ought to define that future remain unresolved. Who is responsible for October 7? What does victory in Gaza mean? How should Israel deal with Iran and Hezbollah? Can the country remain both Jewish and democratic while its Jewish and Arab citizens become increasingly estranged?
And, perhaps most immediately, can any political leader assemble a government capable of governing?
The election is therefore not simply a contest between Benjamin Netanyahu and his opponents. It is a referendum on responsibility, security, the character of the State of Israel and the political system that Israelis want to emerge from the wreckage of the past three years.
The political map is unusually fluid. Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and his Likud party continue to campaign on the familiar combination of national security, a strong Jewish-national identity and the argument that Israel needs experienced leadership in an exceptionally dangerous region. Netanyahu insists that his government has demonstrated Israel’s ability to confront Hamas, Hezbollah and Iran and that Israel must not gamble with its survival. This week he specifically rejected speculation that he intends to launch another preemptive attack on Iran before the election, while warning that Israel would respond forcefully to any Iranian or proxy attack.
His opponents, however, argue that the central issue is precisely Netanyahu’s record of leadership. They point to October 7, the absence of a state commission of inquiry, the continuing political influence of the ultra-Orthodox parties and the growing power of the far right. For them, the election is an opportunity to replace what they describe as a government of division with a government of “repair and reconstruction.”
The principal challenger is former IDF Chief of Staff Gadi Eisenkot and his Yashar (“Direct”) party. Eisenkot has emerged as the strongest individual challenger in many polls, presenting himself as a security-minded alternative who can restore public trust without abandoning Israel’s military strength. His message is deliberately not one of a traditional Israeli “peace camp.” Indeed, most of the principal opposition leaders remain firmly within the Zionist security consensus and do not advocate the immediate creation of a Palestinian state. Their argument is rather that Israel can be equally determined about its security while changing the way the country is governed and the way it conducts itself internationally.
Naftali Bennett’s B’Yachad (“Together”) party represents another important strand of the opposition: economically reformist, security-minded and generally right of centre, but opposed to the present political arrangement. Bennett has emphasized reducing the cost of living, breaking monopolies, streamlining government and expanding military service. His party also supports civil marriage and changes to the existing arrangements with the ultra-Orthodox. Bennett has made three particularly significant demands for any future government: a state commission of inquiry into October 7, universal military enlistment and a constitution for Israel.
Avigdor Liberman’s Yisrael Beiteinu (“Israel Our Home”) party occupies a distinctly hawkish and secular position. He supports, among other things, a strong national-security posture and universal military service, but is deeply hostile to the political power of the ultra-Orthodox parties. His refusal to support a government dependent upon the Arab parties is particularly significant because it could make the arithmetic of a post-election coalition much more difficult.
Yair Golan’s Democrats party represent the clearest ideological break with the Netanyahu government. The party places democracy, judicial independence, separation of religion and state, civil marriage and institutional accountability at the centre of its programme. It opposes annexation of Judea and Samaria (what is referred to as “the West Bank” [of the Jordan River]), supports a more diplomatic approach to the “Palestinian” issue and, significantly, is the only major opposition party openly prepared to contemplate the participation of an Arab party in a governing coalition.
Yair Lapid’s Yesh Atid (“There is a Future”) party remains a centrist, secular and liberal alternative, while also opposing Netanyahu’s return to power. Together, Eisenkot, Bennett, Lapid, Golan and Liberman have publicly pledged to cooperate in an effort to establish what they call a Zionist, statesmanlike government devoted to “repair and reconstruction.” They have promised not to attack one another during the campaign and to establish joint working groups on such issues as ultra-Orthodox enlistment and the creation of a state commission of inquiry into October 7. This promise had a short life, as Liberman took a stand against Eisenkot. The attack followed Liberman’s declaration Thursday that if the opposition fails to obtain a majority vote, he would not support a minority government that would allow the Likud to become a coalition partner, even temporarily, but without Netanyahu – an option floated by Eisenkot.
Yet there is an even greater weakness in this apparent unity: they have not agreed who should actually lead the country.
That may become the election’s central problem. Israel’s proportional electoral system means that winning the largest number of seats does not automatically make a party’s leader prime minister. A government requires the support of at least 61 of the 120 members of the Knesset. Current polling suggests that neither the Netanyahu camp nor the opposition has a guaranteed path to that number. Israel could therefore emerge from October 27 with a clear electoral winner but without a clear government.
Another potentially important player is former IDF Brigadier General Ofer Winter and his new Amcha Yisrael (“Your People, Israel”) party. Winter, a highly decorated combat commander and former commander of the Givati Brigade and Fire Formation, has positioned Amcha Yisrael as a broad, national movement rather than a sectoral religious party. The slate combines a strongly security-oriented outlook with an attempt to appeal beyond the religious-Zionist constituency, most notably through the inclusion of Arab-Israeli public figure Yoseph Haddad in the number-two position. Winter has called for a broad right-wing government and has taken a particularly hard line on Gaza, including support for what he describes as voluntary emigration of Gazans.
The party’s immediate challenge, however, is crossing the electoral threshold. Its entry into the Knesset could materially affect the coalition arithmetic on the right. If it does cross the threshold, Amcha Yisrael could potentially become a natural partner in a Netanyahu-led government, although Winter’s insistence on his own political red lines could make coalition negotiations less straightforward than simply assuming that his seats would automatically join the Likud bloc. At the same time, the campaign surrounding Haddad illustrates the increasingly personal and sometimes vicious nature of this election. He is a journalist and activist who advocates for Israel on social media and international speaking tours. He served as a Commander of the elite Golani Brigade of the IDF and was seriously injured during a fierce battle during the Second Lebanon War in 2006. Haddad has been subjected to attacks and attempts to undermine his reputation precisely because of his prominent position on the Amcha Yisrael list and his role as an Arab-Israeli advocate for Israel. Whatever one’s political view of Haddad or Winter, the effort to discredit Haddad raises a broader question: is Israel prepared to recognize an Arab-Israeli patriot as a legitimate participant in a predominantly Jewish political movement, or will political opponents attempt to turn his identity itself into a weapon? That question gives Amcha Yisrael an importance disproportionate to its current polling numbers.
And this brings us to the most uncomfortable question in this election: the Arab vote.
Arab citizens constitute roughly one-fifth of Israel’s population, and the Arab parties could hold the balance of power in a closely divided Knesset. Mansour Abbas’s Ra’am (an acronym for “Reshima Aravit Meuhedet” – “United Arab List”) is particularly important. Abbas has condemned the October 7 attack, has concentrated heavily on crime and socioeconomic issues affecting Arab communities and has previously demonstrated that an Arab party can participate pragmatically in an Israeli governing coalition. Yet Netanyahu and virtually all of his principal opposition rivals have said they will not include an Arab-led party in a coalition.
This creates an extraordinary political paradox. The Arab parties may be sufficiently strong to determine who can form a government, while the principal Jewish parties insist that they will not permit them actually to be part of that government. That position may be politically understandable in the aftermath of October 7 and amid continuing security concerns. The issue is made more sensitive by what happened earlier in the campaign. The Central Elections Committee voted to disqualify Ra’am and the Joint List from participating in the election, but the Supreme Court subsequently overturned those disqualifications. The episode exposed just how politically charged the electoral process has become. The argument is no longer merely about policies; it is increasingly about who is regarded as legitimately entitled to participate in Israel’s democracy.
There is another problem. Israel is attempting to conduct a national election while still living under extraordinary security conditions. Authorities are preparing polling stations for possible missile attacks, sirens and other emergencies, including plans involving shelters and potentially extended voting hours. Postponing an election would itself require an extraordinary parliamentary threshold. At the same time, Israeli security officials are preparing for possible attacks and foreign interference directed at the electoral process.
The security situation remains inseparable from the politics. Gaza is no longer experiencing the same level of fighting that characterized the height of the war, but the conflict is not simply over. The implementation of the American-sponsored Gaza framework remains incomplete, with the disarmament of Hamas, Israeli withdrawal and reconstruction unresolved. The West Bank remains volatile, with continuing settler violence and Palestinian attacks adding another layer of insecurity. Hezbollah remains a threat in Lebanon, while Iran and its regional proxies remain the strategic threat most capable of transforming Israel’s political debate overnight. Interestingly, the players in this scenario are expecting surprise attacks from other players and are preparing accordingly. May it be that we are never again surprised by any action or intention of our enemies.
Indeed, Netanyahu’s opponents have accused him of potentially seeking an “October surprise” – a dramatic military action before the election that could transform the political environment. Netanyahu has denied that he wants a pre-election attack on Iran. The very fact that such speculation has become part of the election campaign illustrates how deeply security and politics have become intertwined.
Perhaps nowhere is this intertwining more evident than in the extraordinary legal battle now unfolding between Netanyahu and his former security establishment.
Former Shin Bet chief Ronen Bar filed a NIS 3 million defamation lawsuit against Netanyahu this week. Bar alleges that Netanyahu has attempted to rewrite the history of October 7 by shifting responsibility for the security failures onto the Shin Bet and its leadership. The lawsuit details warnings that Bar says were conveyed to Netanyahu’s office before the attack and alleges that the prime minister disregarded or failed to act upon them. Netanyahu rejects those allegations and has argued that Bar himself could have contacted him directly.
The lawsuit is significant not merely because of the money involved. It is effectively a courtroom extension of the national argument over October 7: who knew what, when did they know it, who warned whom, and who ultimately bears responsibility?
Netanyahu remains the only senior political figure from the pre-October 7 leadership who remains prime minister. He has resisted establishing a state commission of inquiry, arguing that the traditional mechanism would not command public confidence. His opponents see that refusal as an attempt to avoid personal accountability. The Bar lawsuit therefore arrives at precisely the moment when Israelis are being asked to decide whether the political leadership that presided over the greatest security catastrophe in the country’s history should be entrusted with another term.
This election is consequently about much more than Netanyahu’s political survival.
It is about whether Israelis believe that security is best protected by continuity or by change; whether military strength can coexist with institutional restraint; whether a Jewish state can maintain a genuinely democratic political system when almost 20 percent of its citizens are viewed by much of the political establishment as unacceptable coalition partners; whether the ultra-Orthodox can continue to receive exemptions from military service while the burden of prolonged warfare falls disproportionately upon others; and whether Israel can restore relations with allies without compromising its security.
The opposition has an opportunity, but it also faces a warning. It is relatively easy to campaign against Netanyahu. It is considerably harder to construct a coherent government from parties that range from the secular right through the centre to the Zionist left. The differences over Arab participation, religion and state, the Palestinians, the judiciary and the premiership itself are not cosmetic differences. They could destroy an opposition coalition before it begins.
Netanyahu, meanwhile, faces his own paradox. His political strength has always rested on the proposition that when Israelis are afraid, they turn to him. Yet the defining question of this election is whether October 7 permanently reversed that equation. For some Israelis, the attack proves that only a leader with Netanyahu’s experience and determination can protect the country. For others, it proves the opposite: that the man who was in charge when the catastrophe occurred should not be the man entrusted to prevent the next one.
The answer will be delivered on October 27. But even then, Israel may not immediately know what the answer means. If neither bloc reaches 61 seats, the Arab parties could become kingmakers. If the major Jewish parties refuse to cooperate with them, Israel could face another prolonged period of coalition negotiations – or another election. If a government is eventually formed, it will inherit a country still carrying the physical and psychological scars of October 7, a fragile situation in Gaza, an unresolved confrontation with Iran and Hezbollah, deepening Jewish-Arab tensions, a bitter dispute over judicial and governmental authority, and a public increasingly impatient for accountability.
Israel therefore approaches this election not simply as a country choosing a government, but as a country asking itself what kind of country it wants to be after October 7.
The most important ballot may not be the one that determines who wins the most seats. It may be the one that determines whether Israel can once again translate an election victory into a government capable of governing – and whether that government can restore the one commodity that neither military power nor political rhetoric can manufacture: public trust.
Do not trust in princes, in mortal man, in whom there is no salvation. His spirit departs, he returns to the earth; In that very day his thoughts perish. How blessed is he whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the LORD his God. (Psalm 146:3-5)
Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. (Proverbs 3:5)
Have a great week. Bless, be blessed and be a blessing.
Marvin
