The Failure of Politics and the Rise of a New Statecraft

As we find ourselves facing a moment of decision, a historical juncture where a nation must fundamentally reexamine its path forward. The horrors of October 7th shattered illusions, exposing the rot in the country’s political leadership, the deep fractures in its society, and the fatal flaws in its security doctrine. While leaders clung to failed paradigms of “conflict management,” peddled hollow nationalism, and pursued narrow political gains, young soldiers fought and died in the mud. Now, the nation stands at a crossroads: one path leads to more temporary fixes and managed decline, the other to the difficult but necessary choices that could secure its survival. The era of comfortable lies is over.

The attacks destroyed more than just our sense of safety—they revealed how shallow our national debate had become. For years, we let ideological divides turn into tribal hatred while kicking security decisions down the road with temporary fixes. The rockets didn’t care if you were secular or religious, a Tel Aviv liberal or a West Bank settler. When the sirens wailed, we all ran to the same shelters. But from this disaster, something unexpected is rising. The reservists who dropped everything to fight, the soldiers who saw firsthand how years of political cowardice left Hamas’ tunnels untouched—they’re done with the old games. While politicians squabble over petty rivalries, these veterans are building bridges across Israel’s divides: tech founders working with working-class towns, religious Zionists teaming up with secular Tel Avivians. They get what the politicians don’t—we either unite or we fall apart.

Yet our leaders keep making things worse. The far left still obsesses over settlers as if they’re the root of every problem. The far right treats all Arabs as threats—even those who serve beside us in uniform. The ultra-Orthodox leadership acts like their draft exemptions aren’t putting us all at risk. And at the center? A political class that thinks “compromise” means choosing between bad ideas rather than finding real solutions. This isn’t just another crisis—it’s a reckoning. The next generation of leaders is already here, forged in the fires of October 7th. The question is whether Israel’s broken system will let them lead before it’s too late.

Governing with Justice, Not Sales Pitches

The most dangerous illusion is that we can return to the pre-October 7th “normal”—the failed policy of economic bribes to Hamas, periodic military operations, and willful blindness toward Gaza. That approach got thousands killed. Any leader peddling “temporary solutions” or “conflict management” today isn’t just wrong—they’re dangerous. Israel doesn’t need politicians who treat governance like a marketing campaign; it needs leaders who understand that justice means decisive action, not empty promises. The era of managing the conflict is over. Now we must end it.

Uniting the Tribes—Inside Israel and Beyond

Our survival depends on whether we can bridge the divides we’ve allowed to fester for too long. The rockets didn’t discriminate between left and right, religious and secular—and neither can our future. A nation that sends its children to fight together cannot remain a house divided at home. This means national service for all, real integration of the ultra-Orthodox into society, and economic policies that make Jewish-Arab cooperation unavoidable. Beyond our borders, we must strengthen ties with global Jewry and build regional alliances based on mutual respect—not Western-pleasing fantasies, but hard-nosed partnerships with Arab states who understand strength.

Fighting to Win, Not Just to Endure

In the Middle East, stability doesn’t come from the absence of conflict, but from the presence of overwhelming force. Our enemies don’t measure costs like Western armies do—civilian casualties are a feature of their strategy, not a bug. That’s why “mowing the grass” in Gaza failed: you can’t deter those who celebrate death. Hamas’ destruction must be total and irreversible. But military victory alone isn’t enough. We must also change the human equation—investing in Palestinian education and development to create alternatives to extremism, while ensuring our own society emerges stronger, more united, and prepared to lead. The choice is clear: remain victims of our divisions, or become victors through our unity and resolve.

The next Israel will be built by those who understand that half-measures lead to whole disasters. The question is whether we’ll learn this lesson before it’s too late.

The 2026 elections will be Israel’s final opportunity to course-correct—not with the same political games that brought us to this brink, but with leaders forged in the fires of this war. Not backroom dealmakers, but those who stood on the front lines, who saw the cost of our failures firsthand. The reservists who saved us on October 7th are watching. This time, they won’t just cast votes—they will claim their place in shaping our future. And the old guard, with their tired slogans and hollow promises, won’t know what hit them.

The Zionist project has always demanded two things: intellectual honesty about our challenges, and moral clarity about our obligations. We must reconcile our ideals with hard realities—not with wishful thinking, but with the sober understanding that survival requires both strength and wisdom. We owe this to those who fell defending us—not just to mourn them, but to build a nation worthy of their sacrifice.

History offers a glimmer of hope. Israel’s greatest leaders—from Ben-Gurion’s pragmatism in accepting partition, to Begin’s bold peace with Egypt only 4 years after 1973 Yom Kipur war, to Rabin’s calculated risks—understood that statesmanship means distinguishing between what is desirable, what is possible, and what is essential. Today, we face that same test.

Ben-Gurion once said, “In Israel, in order to be a realist, you must believe in miracles.” But the miracle we need now is not divine—it is human. It is the wisdom to recognize that our security does not rest on weapons alone, but on the unity we forge between us. On the justice we demand from our leaders. On the resolve to fight not just for survival, but for victory.

The ballot box in 2026 will decide whether we’ve truly learned the lessons of October 7th. There are no more second chances. We have no other choice.