When a Nation Loses the World

Some figures are too stark to wave away. According to the 2026 Democracy Perception Index, one of the world’s largest surveys of global opinion, compiled by Nira Data together with the Alliance of Democracies Foundation, Israel received a net perception score of minus 24, placing it below Afghanistan, North Korea, Iran, and every other country surveyed. Whether or not one accepts the world’s verdict, Israel’s reputation abroad has never been lower.

That matters because reputation is no longer merely about prestige. It shapes diplomacy, investment, academic cooperation, tourism, and the willingness of allies to stand together in times of crisis. Countries burdened by deeply negative public images face greater resistance, weaker political support, and increasing difficulty persuading others to cooperate. The Democracy Perception Index measures something that has become a strategic asset in its own right: how ordinary people around the world perceive nations.

Israel was not always viewed this way.

For decades it drew on a deep reservoir of goodwill across the democratic world. It was admired as the story of a people rebuilding their homeland after the Holocaust, as a vibrant democracy carrying extraordinary security burdens, and as the “Start-Up Nation,” where scientific excellence, technological innovation, and entrepreneurial ambition became defining national strengths. Governments that criticized particular Israeli policies nevertheless distinguished between disagreement over those policies and the legitimacy of the state itself. Israel was respected even when it was contested.

That reputation rested on more than military strength or diplomatic support. It also rested on human capital: leading universities, scientific research, and an entrepreneurial culture. Yet that foundation is showing signs of strain. Recent OECD data analyzed by The Economist place Israeli tertiary students near the bottom of participating countries in literacy and numeracy, with particularly weak performance in mathematics. A country’s reputation and the quality of its education may seem like separate stories, yet both reflect the strength of its institutions. Together, they point to a gradual erosion of Israel’s national resilience.

That world no longer exists.

Israel had every right, indeed every obligation, to defend its citizens after Hamas carried out the October 7 massacre. Yet modern wars are fought not only on the battlefield but also through diplomacy, multilateral institutions, media coverage, and public opinion. As the war in Gaza continued, images of destruction and humanitarian crisis dominated news coverage around the world. Those images reshaped how hundreds of millions of people viewed Israel. Governments that initially expressed solidarity gradually became more critical. Demonstrations spread across Europe and Latin America. Over time, international attention shifted from the atrocities Hamas had committed to the humanitarian consequences of Israel’s military campaign.

It would be comforting to dismiss this as merely a failure of public diplomacy, a war lost in the editing room rather than on the ground. It was not. The scale and duration of the campaign, not merely its presentation abroad, are part of what the world is judging.

The next temptation is to explain the decline solely through the resurgence of antisemitism. Hatred of Jews has indeed risen sharply since October 7, particularly across Europe and North America. But antisemitism cannot fully explain Israel’s collapse in international esteem.

When opinion deteriorates not only among Israel’s traditional critics but also among many of its closest friends, prejudice alone cannot account for the trend. Blaming antisemitism may provide emotional comfort, but it postpones the harder work of honest self-examination. Nations, like individuals, sometimes have to confront uncomfortable truths before they can change course.

The Netanyahu government bears considerable responsibility for accelerating this decline.

Israeli foreign policy has become reactive rather than strategic. Longstanding partnerships have been strained instead of strengthened. Domestic political considerations have repeatedly outweighed the national interest, while the government has offered no credible vision for resolving the conflict with the Palestinians. Even sympathetic allies struggle to understand where Israeli policy is heading.

It is one more unwanted record set under Benjamin Netanyahu. History may remember this government not only for the wars it fought, but also for the standing Israel lost while fighting them. After years of political polarization, constitutional turmoil, deteriorating relations with democratic partners, growing concerns about educational performance, and increasing isolation, the country now faces perhaps its gravest strategic challenge: the erosion of the two assets that long underpinned its success, international legitimacy and human capital.

Can this trend be reversed?

Perhaps. But no one should underestimate what that will require.

Public diplomacy matters. Israel has faced biased reporting, double standards, and deliberate disinformation that deserve to be challenged. Yet public diplomacy cannot substitute for policy. No communications campaign, however sophisticated, can bridge the gap between what a government says and what the world believes it sees. It succeeds only when it reinforces credible policy.

Restoring Israel’s standing will require far more than better public diplomacy.

It will require leaders willing to rebuild trust with democratic allies, restore diplomacy as a central pillar of national security, articulate a credible political horizon, and renew investment in education, science, and research. Above all, it will require honest engagement with the Palestinian question.

For many Israelis, the idea of a Palestinian state has become inseparable from fears for national security since October 7. Those concerns are genuine and deserve respect. Any future arrangement must guarantee Israel’s security and prevent the emergence of another terrorist entity along its borders. Yet postponing a political settlement indefinitely carries profound strategic costs. The absence of a credible political horizon has itself become one of the principal drivers of Israel’s growing isolation. Working toward the eventual establishment of a demilitarized Palestinian state under robust regional and international security guarantees would not make Israel universally admired overnight. Nor would it eliminate antisemitism or silence every critic.

It would, however, change the conversation. It would demonstrate that Israel remains committed to a negotiated future rather than perpetual conflict, strengthen moderate partners across the Middle East, improve relations with Europe and beyond, and make it easier for friendly governments to defend cooperation before their own publics.

One conclusion is already difficult to escape. Reclaiming Israel’s standing will require far more than image management. It will demand political courage, diplomatic imagination, stronger institutions, renewed educational excellence, and a willingness to confront difficult realities rather than explain them away. A nation’s good name is not handed down by fate. It is built through choices. If Israel hopes once again to become a country that others admire, trust, and seek as a partner, it must change not only how it speaks to the world, but also the choices through which the world judges it.