The Opposition Must Be Prepared to Form a Coalition with Arab Parties After 2026
Coalitions in parliamentary systems are formed on political ideology and parliamentary majorities—not on ethnic exclusion.
As Israel approaches the 2026 elections, a familiar anxiety returns to the center of political debate: whether it is legitimate—politically, legally, or morally—to form a governing coalition with Arab parties. The question is often framed as provocative or destabilizing, as if such cooperation represents a departure from Israel’s foundational principles. In reality, the opposite is true. A coalition that includes Arab parties is not only permissible; it is fully consistent with Israeli law, faithful to democratic norms, and necessary for the stability and democratic integrity of Israel’s political system.
Israel is a parliamentary democracy. Governments are formed by coalitions that command a majority in the Knesset. Coalition legitimacy derives from parliamentary arithmetic and from negotiated political programs, not from ethnic, religious, or communal identity. Israeli coalitions have always been constructed along ideological lines: right, left, and center; religious and secular; security-oriented, social-economic, or liberal-democratic. Parties with divergent worldviews bargain, compromise, and agree on governing platforms. There is no constitutional principle, no Basic Law, and no statutory provision that excludes Arab parties from this process. Arab citizens vote, are elected, legislate laws, serve on parliamentary committees, and formally pledge allegiance to the State of Israel and to faithfully discharge their mandate in the Knesset, as required by law under Basic Law: The Knesset and the formal Knesset oath of office. To argue that their representatives may participate in elections but must never participate in governance is not a legal argument; it is a political preference presented as constitutional necessity.
This understanding is anchored not only in institutional practice but in Israel’s founding document itself. Israel’s Declaration of Independence explicitly defines the state as both Jewish and democratic and commits it to “complete equality of social and political rights to all its inhabitants irrespective of religion, race or sex”. While not binding law, that commitment has long functioned as a central normative reference in Israeli constitutional interpretation and democratic self-understanding.
The constitutional principle of equality has also been affirmed in Supreme Court jurisprudence. In Ka’adan v. Israel Lands Administration (2000), the Court held that the state may not discriminate against Arab citizens in the allocation of public resources, grounding equality in human dignity and democratic citizenship. Although the case concerned land allocation, its broader reasoning articulated a general constitutional norm: the state may not treat Arab citizens as second-class participants in public life. A political system that allows Arab citizens to vote while treating their parties as categorically illegitimate coalition partners sits uneasily with that principle.
Democracy, however, is not exhausted by formal legality. It requires that political participation be meaningful rather than merely symbolic. Nearly one-fifth of Israel’s citizens are Arab. A system that structurally excludes their representatives from governing coalitions—regardless of ideological compatibility—empties democratic equality of substance while preserving its outward form. In recent years, Arab political leadership has increasingly emphasized pragmatic civic engagement, parliamentary participation, and negotiation over policy outcomes within the existing constitutional framework. This development does not eliminate deep disagreements, but it reflects the ordinary functioning of democratic politics in a divided society.
The moral and civic question is therefore more complex, and more precise, than is sometimes acknowledged. Many Arab political actors openly define themselves as Palestinian, advocate for the establishment of a Palestinian state, and advance positions regarding Palestinian refugees that conflict with long-standing Israeli government policy and, in some cases, with dominant Zionist consensus positions. These positions can reasonably raise concerns about political tension and, in moments of violent conflict—including periods of armed conflict involving Gaza—about loyalty and collective responsibility. These concerns are not frivolous and should not be dismissed.
Yet democratic systems are not built on ideological uniformity or on the assumption of consensus in times of conflict. They are built to manage deep disagreement through institutional constraints. In Israel, participation in governance is conditioned on adherence to the law, acceptance of coalition agreements, collective cabinet responsibility, and continuous oversight by the Knesset and the courts. Loyalty in a democratic system is not measured by ideological conformity or by the suppression of dissenting national narratives; it is measured by conduct within constitutional and institutional bounds. Parties or actors who violate the law, support violence, or breach coalition discipline may be sanctioned, excluded, or prosecuted under existing legal frameworks. Preemptive, identity-based exclusion substitutes suspicion for accountability and risks weakening democratic legitimacy rather than safeguarding it.
Recent political experience reinforces this institutional logic. Arab-party participation in the Bennett–Lapid government demonstrated in practice that inclusion is neither unprecedented nor inherently destabilizing. That government functioned within Israel’s constitutional framework, passed budgets, and addressed civic priorities through negotiated coalition agreements. Whatever one’s assessment of its policies or longevity, its existence underscored a simple point: participation in governance is a political choice grounded in ideology and programmatic negotiation, not an automatic threat to state security or democratic order.
Fairness reinforces the same conclusion. Coalition participation is the primary mechanism through which voters translate ballots into policy. For decades, Arab citizens were permitted representation but denied meaningful influence over governance. The predictable consequences were underinvestment, alienation, and political marginalization. Experience has shown that inclusion can produce tangible outcomes—budgetary engagement, infrastructure investment, and more effective attention to civic challenges such as crime and public safety. These outcomes are not concessions; they are the ordinary products of political responsibility within a coalition system.
This is ultimately a question of democratic resilience. Israel faces serious challenges—external security threats, internal polarization, economic inequality, and institutional strain. Long-term stability does not arise from exclusion but from integration within the political system. A coalition that includes Arab parties on the basis of shared or overlapping policy goals signals confidence rather than fragility. It affirms that Israeli democracy is strong enough to distinguish ideology from identity and disagreement from disloyalty.
Within this context, cooperation with figures such as Mansour Abbas should be understood not as an anomaly or a moral endorsement, but as a test of democratic seriousness. Engagement with the state, acceptance of parliamentary norms, and willingness to govern within coalition constraints are not threats to Israel’s Jewish or democratic character. They are evidence that the commitments articulated in 1948 are being treated as living principles rather than selectively invoked slogans.
As argued more fully in a recent Times of Israel blog post, “This Is How Democracies Fall — and Israel Is Near the Brink,” democratic erosion rarely occurs through a single dramatic rupture. More often, it unfolds through the normalization of exclusion and the quiet abandonment of equal political participation as a governing principle. As the 2026 elections approach, the responsibility to safeguard Israel’s democratic system increasingly rests with the opposition: whether it is prepared to move beyond reflexive exclusion and to contemplate coalition politics grounded in law, ideology, and responsibility rather than identity.
That responsibility now calls on the opposition parties to do more than debate principles from the sidelines: after the 2026 elections, they must be prepared to form a governing coalition—on ideological and programmatic grounds—with all legitimate parliamentary actors, including Arab parties, in order to preserve Israel’s democratic system.
