With the support of 67 of the 120 members of the Knesset, it was a no-brainer for Israeli President Isaac Herzog to task Gadi Eisenkot, the leader of the Yashar Party, with forming a government following the results of last month’s general election. On the face of it, with this level of backing, compared with the 46 members who supported Netanyahu, the task should be straightforward. But it is not. This is Israeli politics, where nothing is quite what it seems.
While it is tempting to blame the politicians — and they certainly must shoulder much of the responsibility — voters have also dealt them a difficult hand in this poker-like exercise of coalition-building. In this process, numbers matter. Yashar won 21 seats, which means it needs almost twice that number of seats from other parties to form a majority government.
This might sound pessimistic, but not necessarily so. The 67 members of the Knesset who supported Eisenkot during their consultations with Herzog may appear united around one objective: getting rid of Netanyahu and removing him from politics for good. Ending the destructive influence of a leader may seem essential, but it is not, in itself, a sufficient basis for forming a government with a common purpose, a coherent agenda, and the cohesion needed to remain in power for a full term. Nevertheless, the rejection of Netanyahu, even if not explicitly articulated, reflects a desire to take the country in a very different direction from the past four years, both in its domestic character and its relations with the rest of the world.
As always in Israel, the hard work does not end when the election campaign concludes; it resumes the day after election day, when results become clear. One of Eisenkot’s major challenges is that the so-called “change bloc” he was expected to lead is far from monolithic or ideologically united. Disagreements have already emerged on two fronts: tactically, over which parties to approach to secure the additional members of the Knesset needed to form a government, since Eisenkot’s bloc commands only 48 seats in the Knesset; and strategically, over the policy concessions it is prepared to make to potential coalition partners from outside the bloc. Compounding Eisenkot’s difficulties, Avigdor Lieberman, Yair Lapid, and Naftali Bennett — the leaders of the other parties making up this bloc — made pre-election promises that they may now have to break.
The opportunity is there, but will require political courage
Yossi Mekelberg
Pre-election pledges matter, and should look beyond collecting votes to reflect courageous leadership. Now they present the change bloc with some conundrums.
Refusing to serve in a government with Netanyahu or the ultra-nationalists is understandable and requires little elaboration. In both substance and style, they represent political positions fundamentally incompatible with those of the change bloc. Differentiating themselves from these forces was essential, otherwise meaningful change would be limited. With other parties, however, the approach should be different; provided there is sufficient agreement on policies, the distribution of ministries, and the terms of coalition cooperation should remain open to negotiation.
Following the election, Eisenkot set out four criteria for joining the government: recognition of Israel as a Jewish, democratic, liberal, and egalitarian state; commitment to the values of the Declaration of Independence; mandatory military, national or civilian service for all Israeli citizens; and recognition of Hamas as a terrorist organization, together with an acknowledgement of the obligation to destroy its military and governing capabilities in the Gaza Strip.
These principles leave sufficient room for maneuver with both the ultra-Orthodox parties and, at the very least, with Mansour Abbas’ Ra’am among the Arab parties. There is a genuine dispute with the ultra-Orthodox over the obligation of their young men to undertake military or civilian service, and over ensuring that exemptions and financial support are reserved for a relatively small number of genuinely exceptional religious scholars, rather than being extended as a privilege to tens of thousands, as is currently the case. But a formula to resolve this dispute should be possible.
The same applies to the blanket exclusion of Arab parties from sharing power with Jewish parties, as most of the change bloc leaders declared before the election. Such a position was morally and politically wrong before the election; now, with the two parties representing Palestinian citizens having won 19 seats, it is even harder to justify. Bringing at least some of them into government would make a relatively stable coalition a genuine possibility while strengthening Israeli democracy through greater political inclusion.
While Yair Golan and the Democrats appear willing to pursue agreements with parties outside their bloc, provided all sides demonstrate pragmatism in negotiations, the others have been either dogmatic or vague. Eisenkot, although not in favor of including Arab parties directly in the government, is at least prepared, for the time being, to present the Knesset with a minority government supported by them and possibly by one of the two ultra-Orthodox parties. For Eisenkot, a former military chief of staff who lost his son and two nephews in the war in Gaza, the question of sharing the burden of military service is both deeply personal and a matter of principle. It is also a practical necessity, given the army’s urgent need for additional soldiers.
Lieberman was very clear before election day, although extremely unrealistic, that he would not sit in the same coalition as Netanyahu, the Arab parties or the ultra-Orthodox. Yet he appears considerably more accommodating toward the latter. Netanyahu, once one of his closest political allies, is now his sworn enemy, with no prospect of reconciliation. Lieberman’s attitude toward Arab citizens has long reflected a far-right populist ideological position.
At the same time, his opposition to the ultra-Orthodox has been largely opportunistic, given that his electoral base consists primarily of secular voters who immigrated from the Soviet Union in the 1990s. His insistence on bringing both ultra-Orthodox parties into the government represents a major U-turn. The move has a certain logic, since it could guarantee the 61 members of the Knesset needed for a majority. But it also says much about the flexibility of his moral compass. Alternatively, it may reflect an ambition to undermine Eisenkot, in the hope that, should the political stars align, Lieberman himself might end up in the prime minister’s seat.
What is beyond dispute is that Israel has a rare opportunity to rid itself of what may well be the worst government and prime minister in the country’s history, and to begin rebuilding a more inclusive political and social system. Such a transformation requires cooperation among those committed to constructive politics, working for the benefit of all citizens, without exception. It could also represent an important step toward reducing tensions with the Palestinians, Israel’s immediate neighbors, and the wider region. The opportunity is there, but it will require political courage, pragmatism, and a willingness to put the country’s interests above narrow personal and party considerations.
Whoever derails this opportunity will be judged by history — and not kindly.
Yossi Mekelberg is a professor of international relations and an associate fellow of the MENA Program at Chatham House.
X: @YMekelberg
