Netanyahu May Be Ahead, but Israel Has Not Chosen a Government
Benjamin Netanyahu has reason to claim a political victory, but not yet a governing mandate. As Israel’s election results took shape on October 28, his bloc emerged ahead of its rivals, yet remained short of the 61 seats required for a majority in the 120-member Knesset. The latest count put his bloc at 53 seats, the opposition led by Gadi Eisenkot at 48, and Arab parties at 19. The figures were still provisional, with special ballots awaiting counting.
That gap between electoral strength and governing capacity is the central story of this election. Netanyahu may command the largest political bloc, but the arithmetic does not give him a majority. Nor does it automatically hand power to his opponents. The opposition and Arab parties together could muster 67 seats on paper, yet that combination is not a functioning coalition merely because the numbers add up.
The distinction matters because parliamentary democracy is not simply a contest to determine which leader finishes first. It is also a process through which parties must turn competing mandates into a government capable of surviving votes of confidence, passing budgets and making consequential decisions. Israel has produced a result that leaves this second task unresolved.
The immediate question, therefore, is not simply whether Netanyahu has lost or won. It is whether any political camp can bridge the distance between its electoral position and the compromises required to govern. That question reaches beyond Netanyahu himself, exposing the structural difficulties of Israel’s fragmented party system and the limits of an opposition united principally by its desire to replace him.
The Arithmetic of Power
Israel’s electoral system makes coalition-building indispensable. A party can win more seats than any rival and still lack the parliamentary support necessary to govern. Netanyahu’s bloc, at 53 seats in the latest reported count, would need eight more to reach the majority threshold. Eisenkot’s bloc, with 48, would need 13. The 19 seats projected for Arab parties could theoretically give an alternative coalition sufficient numbers, but a parliamentary majority exists politically only when its members are prepared to cooperate.
This is where the election becomes more revealing than a conventional contest between government and opposition. Netanyahu’s advantage is real, but limited. His bloc has demonstrated a substantial electoral base without establishing that it can assemble a majority. His opponents, meanwhile, face the inverse problem, they may possess the numbers to construct an alternative, but they have yet to demonstrate that they can agree on the terms.
The distinction reflects a basic feature of coalition politics. Parties negotiate not only over who becomes prime minister, but also over cabinet portfolios, legislation, budgets and policy commitments. Smaller parties can consequently exercise influence disproportionate to their size, especially when a handful of seats determines whether a government can survive. The more divided the parliament, the greater the bargaining power of parties capable of withholding support.
Nor should the 67-seat arithmetic be mistaken for evidence that most Israeli voters endorsed a common opposition programme. Voters supported different parties with different priorities. Combining their seats is a useful calculation, not proof of a shared mandate.
The unresolved result also leaves room for several institutional outcomes, including a coalition led by Netanyahu, an alternative government, a broader unity arrangement or, if negotiations fail, another election. The president’s role in consulting parliamentary factions and entrusting a candidate with forming a government will matter, but the largest bloc does not automatically receive an exclusive right to govern. The real test, then, is whether electoral arithmetic can be converted into a workable political agreement.
An Opposition United by Netanyahu May Still Be Divided by Everything Else
The opposition’s central weakness is not necessarily a lack of seats. It is the difficulty of turning opposition to one leader into agreement on an alternative government. Gadi Eisenkot, Naftali Bennett, Avigdor Liberman and Yair Golan operate within a broad political camp whose members do not share identical views on security, religion, national identity or the future relationship between state institutions and ultra-Orthodox communities.
Their differences become especially consequential when campaign promises collide with the arithmetic of coalition formation. A party may oppose Netanyahu’s leadership while remaining unwilling to join a government that depends on Arab parties. Another may be prepared to cooperate with those parties on particular votes without accepting them as full coalition partners. Still others may demand policy concessions that their prospective allies cannot comfortably accept.
Such tensions illustrate the limits of what political scientists call negative partisanship: the capacity to unite around opposition to a common adversary without establishing a positive programme for governing together. Rejecting the incumbent can be an effective electoral strategy. It is a less reliable foundation for a durable administration.
The Arab parties make this dilemma impossible to ignore. Their projected 19 seats represent a substantial parliamentary presence and, potentially, the difference between a government and a deadlock. Yet their numerical significance does not guarantee that other parties will accept their support. Netanyahu has opposed a government dependent on Arab parties, while important figures in the opposition have also drawn limits around such cooperation.
This creates a fundamental tension in representative democracy. Arab citizens participate in elections and elect legislators, but the ability of their representatives to influence government formation remains contested. The issue is not that every party must accept every possible coalition partner. Parties have legitimate policy differences, particularly over national security. Rather, the question is whether political exclusion becomes so entrenched that a substantial share of parliamentary representation is effectively discounted before negotiations even begin.
The Arab parties themselves should not be treated as a single, ideologically uniform bloc. The Joint List and Ra’am have distinct political identities and strategic calculations. Their willingness to support an alternative government, whether from within a cabinet or through parliamentary votes, cannot simply be assumed. Nor can 19 seats be treated as a ready-made coalition agreement.
Still, the implications are considerable. If opposition leaders refuse cooperation with Arab parties while also rejecting a government led by Netanyahu, they may leave themselves with no viable route to a majority. Their choices are not cost-free. Cooperation could provoke resistance among their own voters; refusing it could prolong the political deadlock they promised to end.
In that sense, the election has exposed a problem larger than Netanyahu’s political survival. It has revealed how the boundaries of legitimate coalition-building can become as consequential as the distribution of votes itself.
The Stakes Extend Beyond Who Becomes Prime Minister
The consequences of this impasse are not confined to parliamentary manoeuvring. Israel faces difficult decisions over military service, the distribution of security burdens, relations between Jewish and Arab citizens, and the management of regional threats. These issues demand political decisions that can command sufficient support to survive the pressures of governing.
The dispute over exemptions from military service for ultra-Orthodox yeshiva students is one example. Shas and United Torah Judaism have made legislation on the issue a significant condition of their political support, while opposition figures have advocated ending broad exemptions. A government assembled through fragile compromises may struggle to reconcile the competing demands of religious parties, secular voters and a military under sustained operational pressure.
Foreign policy presents a different but equally important challenge. Netanyahu has emphasised military achievements and the need to continue confronting Iran, while his opponents have argued for political change and a different approach to national leadership. Yet neither a strong security posture nor a promise of political renewal can substitute for a parliamentary majority. Governments need legislative support, budgetary approval and political legitimacy to sustain their decisions.
This does not mean that a prolonged coalition negotiation would automatically paralyse the Israeli state. Netanyahu remains caretaker prime minister, and government institutions continue to function. Nor does a fragmented parliament necessarily prevent decisive action. The more precise concern is that a government dependent on narrow, unstable bargains may face greater difficulty sustaining controversial policies or making concessions that its coalition partners oppose.
The election therefore poses a test of political capacity as much as electoral legitimacy. Can Israel’s parties negotiate across ideological boundaries when the alternative is continued uncertainty? Can an opposition that has campaigned for change agree on the compromises necessary to exercise power? And can Arab representatives translate their electoral strength into meaningful parliamentary influence, even if they remain outside the cabinet?
There is no guarantee that the answers will favour Netanyahu’s opponents. A failed alternative could leave him in office, despite his bloc’s inability to secure a majority on its own. Conversely, a successful coalition agreement could produce a new government without requiring the opposition to win the largest number of seats.
That is the paradox at the heart of Israel’s election. Netanyahu may be ahead, but the contest has not yet established who can govern. The decisive measure will not be which leader claims victory first, or which bloc appears strongest in a provisional count. It will be whether the parties can transform electoral representation into a workable majority, capable of making decisions and accepting responsibility for their consequences. Israel’s parliamentary democracy now faces a question that arithmetic alone cannot answer. The country has counted its votes, but its political leaders must still determine what those votes make possible.
