Israeli elections: The driver may change, but the destination remains the same

Haider Al-Aila, Abu Al-Amir

Anyone who views the Israeli elections as a battle between the right and the left is mistaken. The so-called Israeli left, in the conventional political sense, has long ceased to be a viable electoral force. What is actually unfolding is a struggle within the Zionist camp itself: a hardline religious and nationalist right led by Benjamin Netanyahu and his allies, versus a secular and centrist right seeking to reshape the political landscape by ousting him.

Netanyahu, having mastered the art of managing the Israeli right over the years, understands that his real vulnerability lies not merely in a Likud defeat, but in the disintegration of the broader right-wing bloc. In Israel’s electoral system—which requires parties to cross a 3.25% electoral threshold to enter the Knesset and mandates a 61-seat majority to form a government—smaller right-wing factions falling below that cutoff could deprive his bloc of the seats needed to govern. Consequently, Netanyahu has spent recent weeks fighting to unify fringe parties and prevent the fragmentation of the right-wing vote.

Herein lies the central paradox of the election: while Netanyahu’s camp is far more ideologically defined than its rivals, it is also markedly more fragile. Though it unites nationalist, religious, and ultra-Orthodox factions, these groups remain deeply divided over issues such as military conscription, the balance between religion and state, judicial governance, and even Netanyahu’s personal political future.

Conversely, the opposing camp—where leadership has increasingly shifted toward Gadi Eisenkot amid the waning influence of Naftali Bennett and Yair Lapid—is not a cohesive ideological movement. Rather, it is a broad coalition united primarily by a singular goal: removing Netanyahu from power.

Eisenkot is attempting to appeal to the political center, the secular right, and voters eager to replace Netanyahu without abandoning the mainstream Zionist consensus on security issues and political settlements. Indeed, Eisenkot himself does not support the establishment of an independent Palestinian state in the foreseeable future.

This captures the core reality of today’s Israeli politics: voters heading to the polls are not choosing between two fundamentally opposed visions for the Palestinian issue, but between competing approaches to governing Israel in the wake of October 7.

Netanyahu’s message to the electorate is straightforward: security demands an uncompromising, unapologetic right wing. Eisenkot, however, offers a different critique: the problem lies not in Israel’s military capability, but in the leadership that mismanaged it and failed to prevent the October 7 attacks. For him, leadership must change to restore institutional trust and state integrity. Thus, accountability for the failures of October 7 has emerged as the defining battleground of the campaign against Netanyahu.

Yet Eisenkot’s bloc harbors its own internal contradictions. It is far from a unified political movement, operating instead as a loose, pragmatic alliance of figures who lack a shared long-term agenda. To maximize their numbers, several opposition parties have already begun coordinating surplus vote-sharing agreements to minimize wasted ballots.

This dynamic brings the “Arab dilemma” to the fore.

If neither Jewish-led bloc achieves a 61-seat majority, Arab Knesset members could hold the balance of power, either by joining a governing coalition or backing one from the outside. This is no trivial variable; higher turnout among Arab citizens could decisively alter seat distribution, particularly given that their participation in previous elections fell well below the national average.

The profound irony, however, is that while anti-Netanyahu forces urge Arab citizens to turn out and “save democracy,” large segments of the Zionist establishment still refuse to treat them as legitimate governing partners. Notably, Bennett—competing fiercely against Netanyahu—has explicitly demanded a coalition restricted exclusively to Zionist parties, despite having presided over a 2021 government that relied directly on an Arab party.

Consequently, should Eisenkot’s camp require Arab support to form a government, it may secure an electoral victory tainted by political hypocrisy: Netanyahu falls, yet Arab lawmakers (such as Mansour Abbas’s bloc) are once again reduced to numerical leverage rather than genuine partners in shaping state policy.

For Palestinians, it is vital not to succumb to the illusion that Netanyahu’s downfall equates to the demise of the Israeli right or the resurrection of an Israeli peace camp. The Palestinian question runs far deeper than the name of the Israeli prime minister.

Netanyahu may fall, Eisenkot may rise, Bennett may return, and a new cabinet may be formed with different faces. Yet the overarching current within Israeli society, particularly after October 7, remains thoroughly detached from any political solution that recognizes the Palestinian right to an independent state with Jerusalem as its capital.

The upcoming Israeli elections are not, at their core, a contest between right and left. They are a contest between one right-wing faction that seeks to continue down the current path under Netanyahu, and another that seeks to replace the driver while keeping the vehicle on the exact same road—differing only in speed and driving style.

This is precisely where the lesson lies for the Palestinians: they must not expect a miracle from the Israeli ballot box. Genuine transformation cannot be measured merely by who occupies the Prime Minister’s Office, but by whether Israeli society is willing to confront the deeper trajectory that led to October 7 and its aftermath.

The driver may change, and the style of driving may shift, but the defining question for Palestinians remains: Will the destination ever change?

This is what Palestinians must recognize clearly. Netanyahu is neither the entirety of the problem, nor is his departure the ultimate solution. Even his rivals, who march under the banner of change, operate within a political and social paradigm that has only grown more right-wing, entrenched, and hostile toward Palestinian rights.