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.

Haider Al-Aila, Gaza

Calling the Israeli military the “most moral army in the world” is a claim thoroughly shattered by the facts on the ground and the atrocities committed against the Palestinian people. What morality can an army claim when it massacres civilians, collapses homes on top of families, loots private property, and desecrates the dead—all while its leadership projects an air of moral supremacy to the world?

Morality is not measured by slogans or military technology; it is defined by how force is applied and the degree of respect shown for human life and dignity. From this perspective, Israel’s devastating war on Gaza reveals systematic, criminal practices that cannot be justified under any pretext of security or self-defense.

When killing becomes a display of power

Among the most harrowing dimensions of this war is the relentless bombardment that turns inhabited homes into mass graves, with utter disregard for women, children, and the elderly. In the densely populated Gaza Strip, widespread strikes have decimated entire neighborhoods, burying thousands of families beneath the rubble.

Equally horrifying are the reports of mass graves uncovered near Al-Shifa Hospital in Gaza City and Nasser Hospital in Khan Younis. These sites revealed the bodies of women and the elderly, some bearing signs of execution, binding, and stripped of clothing. Eyewitnesses documented similar mass graves near the Indonesian Hospital in northern Gaza. The United Nations has rightfully demanded independent, transparent investigations to establish accountability for these apparent war crimes.

The sanctity of the dead is a fundamental human right. Any violation of this principle demands rigorous investigation and prosecution—free from diplomatic cover or denial.

A single target as a pretext to level entire blocks

I do not speak here merely from reports; I speak as a firsthand witness in Gaza. I have watched entire residential blocks—housing vulnerable families—flattened under the pretext of targeting a single individual. Time and again, the Israeli military has tracked a target via reconnaissance drones, waited until he entered a crowded residential building, and then brought the entire structure down. In doing so, they have wiped out dozens of civilians who had absolutely no connection to the individual being pursued.

This reality raises a damning question: If an army possesses the surveillance technology to track a target with surgical precision, why wait to destroy the building while innocent civilians are inside? What crime did these families commit to pay with their lives?

Deliberately subjecting civilians to catastrophic harm without taking the legally required precautions cannot be excused by the presence of a target. It is a direct violation of International Humanitarian Law and constitutes unlawful collective punishment. These are not abstract statistics or fleeting screen images to me; they are the lived realities of families wiped out in an instant.

Looting at gunpoint

The degradation extends beyond killing and physical destruction. Human rights organizations and a 2024 UN Commission of Inquiry have documented widespread instances of Israeli soldiers looting Palestinian homes—stealing cash, gold, jewelry, and electronics.

Compounding the crime, soldiers have frequently posted videos on social media mocking the victims, showing off stolen goods, and celebrating the destruction of civilian property. Pillaging the belongings of displaced or deceased civilians is not military heroism; it is a war crime and an assault on human dignity.

The racism that precedes the bullet

These actions cannot be separated from a dehumanizing, racist discourse that treats Palestinians as subhuman and undeserving of life. When national supremacy is normalized and Palestinian lives are deemed worthless, military atrocities become the inevitable outcome. In the eyes of an indoctrinated soldier, a dehumanized population becomes an open target for slaughter, torture, and humiliation.

This is not a condemnation of Jewish people, who are not a monolith; rather, it is an indictment of the racist Zionist ideology, the brutal policies of the occupation, and all who enable or justify these crimes.

When killing becomes a hunting game

Among the most chilling accounts are videos and testimonies of snipers targeting young Palestinians as if hunting prey. Soldiers have been filmed stalking victims from fortified positions, then cheering and celebrating as their bullets hit their mark.

Killing here ceases to be an act of war; it becomes sport. What moral decay allows human death to become a source of entertainment? It strips the victim of their humanity, reducing someone with dreams, a future, and a family to mere target practice.

Technology without morality

The Israeli military boasts advanced surveillance, artificial intelligence, and precision weaponry. Yet technological superiority does not confer moral superiority, nor does it grant an army a blank check to use disproportionate force.

International Humanitarian Law mandates distinction, proportionality, and precaution. Technology merely amplifies the capacity for violence; it does not legitimize mass slaughter, nor does it grant immunity from accountability.

Internal dissent: “I can no longer bear the silence”

Cracks in the narrative have also emerged from within. A widely circulated account attributed to Israeli reserve Major Avdar Shailovsky, titled “I Can No Longer Bear the Silence” (published by the Jerusalem News Agency), recounts his refusal to remain silent about the horrors he witnessed in Gaza.

The account details the deliberate targeting of civilian gatherings, aid distribution points, and the sniping of women and children, alongside systemic mockery of Palestinian suffering. Shailovsky expressed profound remorse for his complicity and called for a rejection of the racist indoctrination driving the military. While such voices of conscience exist within Israeli society, they remain a marginalized minority against a prevailing culture of right-wing extremism that condones the occupation and the erasure of Palestinian rights.

What morality remains?

The rhetoric driving this war was made clear early on when former Israeli Defense Minister Yoav Gallant referred to Palestinians as “human animals.” Such language laid the ideological groundwork for the atrocities that followed.

Public relations campaigns cannot erase the reality on the ground in Gaza. Neither military power nor foreign diplomatic protection can hide the mass graves or silence the voices of the victims.

In Gaza, I have seen multistory towers turned into tombs and human beings reduced to collateral damage by an army that views their existence as worthless. How can there be any talk of moral superiority when the dead lie trapped under concrete, emergency responders are barred from reaching them, and a nation’s suffering is trivialized?

Gaza has not only shattered the myth of the “most moral army in the world”—it has placed the conscience of the entire international community on trial.

In its shortest, leanest, and simplest definition, foreign policy is the management of all manner of relations entered into with other countries. Foreign policy is a costly undertaking. It demands extensive knowledge, skill, experience, and leadership. For the price of failure is heavy, in every respect. A country’s reputation, influence, and deterrence, as well as its human resources, finances, and borders, are all directly affected by the success or failure of its foreign policy.

The program researching the costs of war at Brown University in the US (see https://costsofwar.watson.brown.edu/paper/overview) determined in its research that post-9/11 US attacks and invasions imposed an economic burden of $8 trillion and caused the direct or indirect deaths of more than 4.5 million people. The report also noted that, alongside the financial burden of these attacks and invasions, they displaced millions of people and exacerbated global environmental pollution.

Today, to understand the decline in US imperialism’s capacity for hegemony and its ecological dominance, one must first understand the burden borne by the US economy. For the US is no longer a country that accounts for more than half of global output, as it did in the aftermath of World War II. Its share of total production stands at around 20%. The social, class, and cultural fault lines within the country, as well as the divide between rich and poor, run exceptionally deep. The combined debt of the public sector, private corporations, and households has approached $200 trillion. The total debt of the federal government has exceeded $40 trillion (see: https://www.usdebtclock.org/world-debt-clock.html).

What does the US prioritize when lending?

The 3 largest creditors to the US, according to June 2026 data, are Japan ($1.117 trillion), the United Kingdom ($940 billion), and China ($633 billion). Israel is the country receiving the greatest amount of US economic and military aid in the Middle East, followed by Egypt. Ukraine, too, has received substantial economic and military aid, funds, and loans from the US. One must also not forget that the US lends money to its allies, including Ukraine, so that they will purchase US goods, weapons, and aircraft. The US dictates how they may use this debt. What is more, it has been doing this for years. During World War II, it lent substantial sums to its allies. Britain, for instance, was only able to pay off this debt in 2006; and Britain, alongside Israel, is one of the two strategic allies of the US. Rather than lending directly to countries undergoing economic crises, the US extends credit through the IMF and the World Bank. When lending, the US takes into account not only its economic priorities but also its strategic and geopolitical ones.

As an imperialist power, the US concerns itself with the entire world. It strives to remain effective and influential on a global scale. Yet just as the power of the US itself has waned, its allies no longer possess their former strength either, especially the Europeans. The European Union, an imperialist project, is not a global actor. There is no such cohesion, no such harmony within the European Union. Nor does it have such an objective. Furthermore, the European Union possesses neither the power, nor the will, nor the courage for this. Germany, the leader of the European Union, seeks merely to exert influence in its immediate neighbourhood: the Balkans, the Baltics, the Black Sea, and the Caucasus; that is all. And the extent to which it succeeds even in this remains open to debate. Moreover, there is not a single country in the world that desires or expects the European Union to step forward, take initiative, and project power globally in distant lands.

The methods used by imperialism

When reflecting on the relationship between imperialism and foreign policy, one should remember that the tools and methods employed by imperialism have evolved. In the 19th century, for example, imperialism resorted to cruder, more brutal, and more barbaric methods. Later, while continuing to turn to military methods and brute force, it systematically deployed economic and financial instruments, cultural hegemony, and sophisticated instruments and methods of governance, utilizing them with far greater frequency.

One of the lessons history teaches is this: every empire, every great power that grows too vast, expands too far, and stretches itself too thin also hastens its own demise. This condition is natural. It is inevitable. This holds true for the Roman Empire, just as it does for the Ottoman Empire, which ruled over immense territories stretching from the Caucasus to the gates of Vienna, and from the Arabian Peninsula to North Africa. For governance and rule become increasingly difficult. For the financial burden mounts. For the bureaucracy grows cumbersome. For centrifugal tendencies come to the fore, competition among local powers far from the centre sharpens, and tensions between provincial power bases escalate. For difficulties arise in implementing necessary administrative and military reforms and in taking the required steps.

In summary, when the predicament of the US is evaluated in the light of this iron law of history, the decline in US power becomes all the clearer.