Israel’s Two Right Wings

What is the meaning of this most recent election? What does it tell us about the underlying structures and issues of Israeli society and polity? What, in fact, were the central issues being contested?

The answer to the last question depends on your point of view. In fact, that question was itself one of the central subjects contested in the election. Netanyahu and his party, Likud, insist that this election followed the traditional mold – a contest between “left” and “right.” The “left” is cast as those open to some sort of peace agreement or political accommodation with the Palestinians, while the “right” insists on total control and incorporation of the West Bank and perhaps Gaza. This conception lies behind the catchy Hebrew slogan, “Either Right or Palestine.” This is the playing field where Netanyahu and Likud are most comfortable, and where they have won many elections in the past.

But on Election Day itself, another, more fundamental issue began to emerge – the nature of Israeli citizenship. In the early afternoon, Benjamin Netanyahu, his son Yair, and Likud began sending urgent messages urging supporters to vote because Arab citizens were turning out in large numbers. “Don’t give them the keys to the state,” read one Netanyahu message. As the day wore on, and especially after the polls closed and the results began to come in, delegitimizing attacks on the Arab vote by Likud spokespeople and media intensified. Arab voters were accused of fraud, falsifying election results, and “stealing the election.” (The police have said there is no basis for these allegations.)

Of course, these attacks had an immediate political goal – preventing the opposition Eisenkot bloc from forming a governing coalition with the active or passive support of the Arab parties, which together hold 19 Knesset seats. Yet the attacks flowed so naturally and effortlessly because they also reflect underlying Likud assumptions about the polity and citizenship. Ultimately, they provide an alternative way of framing this election.

The Likud-led government has been characterized in the press and political analysis as “hard right,” “extreme,” and the like. But these labels do not really capture its essence. At its core, this was an ethno-religious right-wing government. That is, it rejects universalistic criteria for governance and distinguishes between citizens and residents based on ethnic identity and religious affiliation. Because it emphasizes shared Jewish ethnicity, it understands belonging and loyalty in tribal, familial, and even personal terms. As in a family, if one meets the ethnic criteria, belonging is largely unconditional. As a result, historically marginalized groups, such as Mizrahim in Israel’s periphery, found a home in Likud. Similarly, loyalty, including political loyalty, is often couched in personal and familial terms – with Netanyahu characterized as “Abba” (father).

The Haredim fit well into this framework. It is less important to their membership in the bloc whether they actually serve in the military or otherwise contribute. Their strong ethno-religious identification makes them an essential part of the fabric of the Likud bloc. Charges that they are “anti-Zionist” because they do not identify with the modern, secular project of Jewish nationalism are beside the point. Above all, what Likud requires of its members and activists is strong group identification and a generally militant posture toward rival outgroups. Needless to say, this conception of citizenship tends to be exclusionary toward those who have the “wrong” ethnicity or religion.

Despite Netanyahu’s efforts, Lieberman, Bennett, and even Eisenkot cannot be described as leftists. Nevertheless, they do present an alternative to ethno-religious right-wing nationalism. Their critique of this nationalism, explicit and implicit, is broad and deep. They argue that its relaxation of professional and universalistic norms discourages accountability while encouraging cronyism, incompetence, failure, corruption, anarchy, and violence. Instead, these parties offered an alternative form of civil right-wing nationalism. This version respects the rule of law, professional norms, civic equality, and a more restrained public culture. They argue that true national resilience and security lie in adherence to these values, rather than in the mob behavior that ethno-religious nationalism can generate.

The civil approach clearly did not win. But it did not exactly lose either. The Netanyahu bloc’s 53 Knesset seats are not enough to form a government. This is where the law of unintended consequences kicked in. National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir’s discriminatory approach toward the Arab sector generated a backlash at the polls, and the Arab parties achieved a record 19 seats, potentially making them kingmakers in Israeli politics. Whereas Ben-Gvir’s policies were intended to limit the standing and participation of Arab citizens of Israel, their actual effect turned out to be the opposite.

Of the three scenarios analysts have outlined, one may be favorable to Netanyahu but bad for the state: another election. The other two, improbable as they may be, could nudge Israel in a more civil direction, either by forming a “unity” government with Netanyahu, Eisenkot, Bennett, and Lieberman, or by forming a minority government led by Eisenkot and his partners, with passive or active backing from the Arab parties.