We Do Not Need a Commission of Inquiry That Becomes a Cemetery for the Truth

The government can establish a “broad” commission and promise the truth-then grant it a mandate designed to deflect responsibility. Another commission, more months, thousands of pages, and in the end: zero accountability. If we truly want a genuine commission of inquiry, the first step is to ensure that those being investigated are not the ones holding the pen.

One can argue endlessly about whether the commission should be “state,” “national,” “governmental,” “public,” “independent,” or “balanced.” Entire panels can be convened, commentators reciting by heart the names of retired judges and the relevant clauses of the law. But this entire debate-as things stand-misses the only question that truly matters: who writes the terms of reference.

Because a commission of inquiry is not merely about its composition; first and foremost, it is about its mandate. That single page determines what may be asked, what is off-limits, the time frame, what counts as “relevant,” who will be summoned and who will be excluded. And here we must abandon comforting illusions: a government that fears a real investigation will not establish a real one. At best, it will create a replica-a façade. A commission that allows it to tell the public, “Look, we investigated,” while simultaneously burying the inquiry beneath layers of time, authorities, exceptions, subtopics, and definitions.

So let us say this plainly: the current government does not want to investigate. Not itself, not its methods, not its policies, not the long years that led to October 7, not the chain of decisions, and not the politics that turned catastrophe into a mechanism of survival. It wants to emerge unscathed-or at least as blurred as possible. And if it is forced to establish a commission, it will make sure the lens points elsewhere. Anywhere but at itself-even if that requires going back to biblical times and blaming Abraham for purchasing the Cave of Machpelah from Ephron the Hittite for four hundred shekels of silver.

The law, for those who cling to it like a concrete wall, is clear: a state commission of inquiry is established by a government decision; afterward, the President of the Supreme Court appoints the chair and the members. But the government defines the subject of the inquiry and the scope of the mandate-in other words, the terms of reference and the boundaries of what may be examined.

The implication is obvious: even if a respected judge chairs the commission, even if the panel is as “statesmanlike” as one could imagine-if the mandate cuts out the years, the policies, the decisions, and the political-ideological connections, we will get a commission that investigates mainly what is convenient to investigate. It may address failures-mostly of others-but not the system. It will discuss events, but not policy. It will catalog malfunctions, but not responsibility.

We have seen this movie before. I have written here about the Shamgar Commission into the assassination of Yitzhak Rabin-a painful example of how one can establish a state commission of inquiry and still leave the heart of the story outside its mandate. Its task was defined explicitly around the sequence of events and the performance of the bodies responsible for the prime minister’s security. In other words: security. Procedures. An operational chain of failures. Not everything that prepared the ground.

And here we arrive at the great absurdity of 2025: the government is trying to convince us that it is “seeking the truth,” while constructing a model that allows it either to investigate itself under full control, or to engineer a commission that looks statesmanlike on the outside and is constrained at its core. This is precisely the logic behind “we’ll establish something very broad”: decades, hundreds of topics, thousands of pages, endless clauses-so that, in practice, there will be no single conclusion that can be translated into personal and governmental accountability in real time. A commission as a cemetery for the truth. And we already have enough graves.

The hostages? Their families? The wounded in body and soul? The dead? In this discourse, they sometimes appear as symbols, as a ceremonial opening, as “shared pain.” But as drivers of decision-making, they are repeatedly crushed beneath the supreme imperative: political survival. This is not an emotional claim; it is a recurring pattern of action at every junction. And for anyone seeking proof that even when a commission is established nothing necessarily happens, look to the state commission of inquiry into the Meron disaster. There, too, warning letters were issued and severe findings were cited in various publications. And yet, in the Israeli reality, the distance between “conclusions” and “accountability” can span years-if it ever closes. The report’s protagonists are still with us, moving forward with their lives, while the dead turn in their graves.

So what is the point of arguing now over the commission’s brand-“state” or “governmental”? It is a convenient debate for the government because it focuses on packaging. The public argues over the sign on the door, while behind it thick markers are already circling which rooms will remain locked.

The problem is not only who appoints the judges. The problem is that a government that does not want to be investigated will use all its power to avoid a real investigation. We can dispense with the theater: there is no reason and no logic for a government suspected of the greatest historical failure in the country’s history to set the boundaries of its own inquiry. That is an inherent conflict of interest. Even if done “with good intentions.” Even if loyalty to the state is sworn. The structure itself is rotten.

From this follows a clear conclusion: our task is not to demand that this government establish such a commission, but to ensure that a different government establishes it.

In the meantime, we should stop getting excited about discussions of “balance” and “representation” when the real question is who holds the pen. And we should understand that we do not want this government to establish the commission-because we already know its people, its tricks, its lies.

The debate is not legal; it is moral and simple: are we prepared to allow those who are meant to be investigated to determine who will investigate, what will be investigated, and how. If the answer is no, we must stop being tempted by interim solutions and insist on elections. On a new government. And on a commission of inquiry that is not a tool for survival, but a genuine means of uncovering the truth we all need in order to prevent the next disaster.