The Shin Bet shuffle, and what Netanyahu’s reversal really tells us

There is a certain elegance to the trick of Netanyahu’s cancelling a firing just before the court can weigh in on whether the firing was actually illegal. A lesser politician might have blinked earlier, or not at all; but Benjamin Netanyahu, a man who has made a career out of threading needles, has again found the seam between legal humiliation and political survival.

On its face, Tuesday’s cabinet vote rescinding the dismissal of Shin Bet chief Ronen Bar is an olive branch to the judiciary and a nod to institutional continuity—but, reading more closely, it is also a confession—perhaps not of guilt, but of a game that has certainly gone a step too far.

The government’s formal explanation is that Bar’s resignation, set for June 15, rendered the issue moot—but that’s only one way to describe it. Another would be that a High Court ruling on the legality of his firing may have permanently constrained the prime minister’s ability to interfere with Israel’s domestic security apparatus. This is especially important given that this decision comes at a time when that apparatus is investigating people close to him.

Neither Bar’s defiance of Netanyahu on key issues nor the Shin Bet’s investigations into the prime minister’s inner circle will be addressed now – or, at least, that’s the hope of Netanyahu’s legal team. In cancelling the decision to fire Bar and instead replacing it with a voluntary resignation, the government seeks to make the case utterly irrelevant. The court could still weigh in, perhaps barring Netanyahu from appointing Bar’s successor while investigations are ongoing – but it may decline to comment substantively on the deeper issues at stake. This, for the government, is the entire point.

That such a dramatic reversal happened so swiftly, too, is striking. Just weeks ago, Netanyahu declared that he had lost any sense of confidence in Bar. Now, in the face of a looming judicial confrontation, he appears to have rediscovered the value of continuity. Netanyahu didn’t change because he changed his mind; he changed because the court was about to act.

This, though, isn’t only about Ronen Bar; it’s about the firewall between political authority and professional independence. This firewall, as it happens, has been tested repeatedly, and it sends a sobering message: that security officials may serve at the pleasure of the prime minister, and that resisting improper pressure could potentially cost them their jobs.

The Shin Bet, however, is no ordinary agency, and thus the implications go further. It is the country’s primary bulwark against internal threats, operating with secrecy and autonomy. To undermine its leadership in the middle of a war – and amid investigations into the prime minister’s close aids – is, therefore, not merely risky; it’s actively corrosive to public trust.

The Movement for Quality Government in Israel, which filed the petitions, has called the reversal a ‘cynical and transparent trick.’ And they’re not wrong: what has been avoided here is not solely a constitutional ruling – although this itself is under no circumstances to be seen as a mere matter – but accountability itself.

Whether the High Court will allow that avoidance remains to be seen. Some legal scholars expect it to cancel the petitions and move on, and yet others argue that it may still issue a ruling on the conditions under which a prime minister can appoint a Shin Bet chief – particularly if the agency is currently investigating the prime minister’s own advisers.

Even if the court declines to act, the damage is done. A precedent has been set: no matter how irregular a dismissal is, it can simply be walked back at the eleventh hour to avoid scrutiny. And that security chiefs may be expected not solely to protect the state but to avoid embarrassing the political leadership for legitimate reasons.

This, unsurprisingly, is not the first time Netanyahu has pushed the system to its limits, nor is it the first time he has backed down before a full-blown crisis, but institutions do not endure on such a pattern – provoke, retreat, repeat – alone. They depend on norms; on unwritten understandings about what is acceptable and what is not. Those understandings are fraying.

The irony is that the reversal took place on the eve of Remembrance Day and Independence Day. Bar may soon be gone, but the precedent and the question it raises will remain. Who will lead the Shin Bet next? And will they be chosen for their loyalty, or their independence? That, more than any legal technicality, is what should be our main cause of concern.