Deadlock In Israel

The Israeli Knesset has emerged hung after the October 27 election, with Netanyahu’s ruling right-wing and religious bloc reduced from 64 to 53 seats, well short of the 61 required for a majority. The opposition, led by former army chief Gadi Eisenkot, secured 48 seats, while the two Arab-led parties together won a record 19 seats after Arab voter turnout rose to nearly 80 percent. On paper, the anti-Netanyahu camp commands 67 seats. In reality, it remains divided over whether it can accept Arab support to form a government. President Isaac Herzog has given Eisenkot the first opportunity to form an administration, but political arithmetic cannot overcome entrenched prejudice. The irony is difficult to miss. Arab parties, routinely marginalised in Israeli politics, have emerged as kingmakers. Ra’am, which broke political ground by joining a governing coalition in 2021, is prepared to participate in an Eisenkot-led government in return for investment in Arab communities, improved housing and action against organised crime. The Joint List has offered outside support to a minority government. Yet opposition among Jewish voters to any governing arrangement dependent on Arab parties remains strong. This exposes the contradiction in a democracy that claims equality while denying a substantial section of its citizens an equal political role. Netanyahu has exploited this sentiment by portraying any government dependent on Arab votes as a threat to Israel. His determination to retain power is also inseparable from his personal political predicament. His corruption trial, after 98 hearings, has reached closing arguments. A conviction on bribery charges could lead to imprisonment and a seven-year disqualification from political office. Remaining prime minister provides him with political leverage and protection. His hostility towards Arab parties and refusal to contemplate an arrangement without his far-right allies are therefore driven not merely by ideology but also by the need to secure his political survival. However, replacing Netanyahu with Eisenkot should not be mistaken for a breakthrough on the Palestinian question. Eisenkot is hardly a liberal alternative. He opposes Palestinian statehood and has pledged to end Hamas rule in Gaza within 18 months, whether through the US-backed ceasefire framework or renewed military operations. His differences with Netanyahu concern the conduct and management of the war rather than its fundamental objectives. His opposition to restoring Jewish settlements in Gaza and willingness to address settler violence are significant distinctions, but they do not amount to a new vision for peace. For Palestinians, the prospect offers little reassurance. Israeli forces continue to control roughly two-thirds of Gaza, reconstruction remains negligible and at least 1,600 Palestinians have reportedly been killed since the ceasefire began. Military control without legitimate Palestinian governance, occupation without a political settlement and continued deprivation without reconstruction will only deepen resentment and prepare the ground for another cycle of violence. Israel may be approaching the end of the Netanyahu era, but it is nowhere near abandoning the politics that have made peace increasingly elusive. The choice appears to be between prolonged war under a leader whose political survival depends on remaining in office and continued military confrontation under a successor who believes it can be managed more effectively. That is a change of leadership, not a change of vision. Netanyahu may lose power, but unless Israel confronts its occupation, exclusionary politics and refusal to recognise Palestinian political rights, peace will remain as distant as ever.