Can Gadi Eisenkot oust Netanyahu? Inside the Knesset coalition dilemma

In December 1973, barely two months after the Yom Kippur War, Israelis went to the polls with their confidence in the country’s political and military establishment badly shaken. The combined Egyptian and Syrian offensive had exposed serious failures in Israeli intelligence and military preparedness. Israel eventually turned the tide, aided by extensive American military resupply. Yet the election produced no immediate change of government. Golda Meir’s Labour-led Alignment remained the largest political force, winning 51 seats despite the failures surrounding the war. The opposition Likud, led by Menachem Begin, won 39, its strongest showing until then. Meir resigned in April 1974 amid mounting public pressure, but it was another four years before Begin ended Labour’s uninterrupted dominance of Israeli politics. The election exposed the vulnerability of an incumbent long before delivering his replacement.

Israel’s October 27 election has produced a similarly complicated verdict, three years after the Hamas attacks of October 7 and the war that followed. Benjamin Netanyahu’s Likud emerged as the largest party with 27 seats, but his right-religious bloc secured only 53 in the 120-member Knesset, eight short of a majority. The four-party Jewish opposition bloc led by former army chief Gadi Eisenkot won 48, while Arab-led parties secured a record 19. Neither side has a clear path to government.

The result has weakened Netanyahu without ending his political career. It could mark the beginning of the end, but his opponents have yet to turn public dissatisfaction with his government into a viable governing alternative. Three fault lines will shape what follows: the growing electoral weight of Arab citizens and the reluctance to accept their parties as governing partners; the increasingly contentious exemption of ultra-Orthodox men from military service; and a political centre of gravity that continues to move rightwards, irrespective of who occupies the prime minister’s office.

Netanyahu’s resilience, the opposition’s dilemma

Netanyahu entered the election carrying formidable political baggage: public anger over his refusal to accept full responsibility for October 7, opposition to his judicial overhaul and resentment over exemptions from military service for ultra-Orthodox men. Exit polls suggested a closely contested election, with neither major camp assured of a majority.

Rather than defend his record, Netanyahu shifted attention to the dangers Israel would face under his opponents. Security remained the organising principle of his campaign. He also portrayed dependence on Arab political parties as a threat to Israel’s national interests, seeking to turn parliamentary arithmetic into a choice between national security and a hostile political takeover. He redirected the debate towards Iran’s nuclear ambitions and the prospect of a Palestinian state in the West Bank. Whatever the failures of October 7, his argument was that the threats posed by Israel’s adversaries remained greater still.

The final results vindicated part of this strategy. While Likud won 27 seats, Eisenkot’s Yashar finished with 21. Netanyahu avoided the collapse many had anticipated, even as his coalition lost its majority. “For many supporters, Netanyahu is the leader who conducted the military campaigns against Hamas, Hezbollah and Iran. Many right-wing voters perceive these campaigns as significant military achievements, reinforcing Netanyahu’s image as a strong leader capable of confronting Israel’s enemies,” says Liran Harsgor, who teaches political science at the University of Haifa. “Security remains central to right-wing voters’ political identity and voting priorities, and to their continued support for Netanyahu.”

Eisenkot’s failure to secure a decisive victory cannot be attributed to Netanyahu’s campaign alone. His party was part of a broader opposition bloc that brought together right-wingers, centrists, secular nationalists and politicians on the left. They were united principally by their opposition to Netanyahu but divided over religion and state, conscription, the Palestinian question and the role of Arab parties. The arrangement proved more effective as an electoral protest than as a blueprint for government. Former prime minister Naftali Bennett and former defence minister Avigdor Lieberman maintained their own political identities and ambitions, complicating the effort to present a single, unmistakable alternative.

The opposition’s most consequential weakness is its reluctance to embrace Arab support. In a closely divided parliament, the Jewish opposition parties cannot assemble 61 seats on their own. Netanyahu has sought to make cooperation with Arab-led parties politically toxic, portraying such an arrangement as a threat to Israel’s security and identity.

Eisenkot has not entirely ruled out Arab support, but his insistence on a stable Zionist government, together with conditions concerning Israel’s Jewish and democratic character and the defeat of Hamas, makes formal cooperation difficult. Rather than directly challenge Netanyahu’s portrayal of Arab participation as illegitimate, much of the opposition continues to operate within the political boundaries he has helped establish. “This is more about strategic cowardice, and somewhat ideological. At this point it is really racism,” Dahlia Scheindlin, political analyst and senior columnist with Haaretz newspaper told THE WEEK. “The racism has manifested itself in an unwillingness to fulfil equal citizenship for Arab citizens of Israel from the start.”

The four Jewish opposition leaders met on November 3 and agreed to begin coalition negotiations and coordinate their parliamentary strategy. But they offered no clear indication of how they intended to form a government without Arab support. The political problem remains unresolved: they want to replace Netanyahu but have yet to agree on the parliamentary means of doing so.

The Arab vote holds the balance

The mobilisation of Arab voters was one of the defining developments of the election. Palestinian citizens of Israel account for approximately one-fifth of the population and have historically voted at rates below the national average. Turnout in Arab and Druze localities was estimated at approximately 77 per cent this time, compared with 53.2 per cent in 2022. The surge was particularly striking in southern Bedouin communities, where participation approached 80 per cent.

The mobilisation reflected accumulated anger over the policies of Netanyahu’s coalition and its far-right allies, notably National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir and Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich. Voters were concerned about demolitions of Bedouin homes, the failure to curb gun crime and ensure effective policing in Arab localities, and the withdrawal of socio-economic funding secured when Ra’am, a key Arab party, joined the Naftali Bennett-Yair Lapid government in 2021. The outcome was a record 19 seats for Arab-led parties, divided between two formations.

Ra’am, or the United Arab List, led by Mansour Abbas, has retained its pragmatic, civil-rights-oriented approach, prioritising tangible improvements in housing, municipal development, public services and the fight against violent crime. Its participation in the 2021 government remains an important precedent. It demonstrated that an Arab party could enter a governing coalition and negotiate concrete benefits for its constituents without first resolving every ideological dispute between Jewish and Arab Israelis.

Another Arab coalition, the Joint List, comprising Hadash, Ta’al and Balad, has taken a less accommodating approach to coalition participation. It has been more willing to consider supporting a minority government from outside than to join a coalition on terms that it regards as unacceptable.

With 19 seats, Arab parties hold the balance of power between the two principal political camps. They could provide the parliamentary support necessary to replace Netanyahu, but the terms of that arrangement remain uncertain. Ra’am has indicated its willingness to join a government, while the Joint List has signalled a preference for external support. The distinction matters: the combined 67 seats of the Jewish opposition and Arab parties do not automatically translate into a 67-member governing coalition.

“The exceptionally high Arab turnout reflects dissatisfaction with the government, demands for political representation and growing concern about discrimination and public safety,” says Harsgor. “Security means different things to different communities: while Jewish right-wing voters focus on regional military threats, Arab citizens are increasingly concerned about violent crime and the dramatic surge in murders. The Arab parties’ increased representation has fundamentally changed coalition arithmetic, potentially making their support essential to replacing Netanyahu.” But parliamentary indispensability has not translated into political legitimacy. The Jewish opposition parties face the prospect of a backlash if they depend on Arab lawmakers to form a government. Eisenkot must therefore negotiate across a longstanding political divide or risk paralysis and another election. The votes that could help him enter government could also become a political liability. This is the central paradox of Arab participation in Israeli politics: its support is increasingly indispensable, but its parties are still not widely accepted as legitimate governing partners.

The conscription fault line

The dispute over ultra-Orthodox exemptions exposes another deep division in Israeli society: the unequal distribution of civic obligations. For decades, many ultra-Orthodox men have been exempted from compulsory military service to pursue full-time religious study. The arrangement survived through political bargaining, with ultra-Orthodox parties securing exemptions and state support for religious institutions in return for parliamentary support.

The October 7 attacks and the prolonged war intensified resentment. Reservists, some required to serve 200 days or more in a year, faced repeated deployments, while attempts by the outgoing government to legislate protections for draft-eligible yeshiva students widened the divide. The Supreme Court had already ruled in 2024 that there was no legal basis for a blanket exemption for ultra-Orthodox students. The question of whether the state should continue subsidising religious study while other families bear the burden of military service became a central electoral issue.

Eisenkot capitalised on the discontent, making an end to broad Haredi exemptions a central pledge. On election night, he reiterated his commitment to a “Zionist government committed to military conscription”. The issue also exposed tensions within Netanyahu’s alliance. A breakaway list, the Haredi Public party, attempted to exploit dissatisfaction within the community but failed to cross the 3.25 per cent electoral threshold.

The established parties, United Torah Judaism (UTJ) and Shas, retained considerable leverage with a combined 13 seats, making their support important to Netanyahu. Yet the opposition’s commitment to universal military or national service makes an agreement with them equally difficult for Eisenkot. The draft dispute therefore constrains both camps. Netanyahu needs his religious allies but faces pressure to dilute their privileges. Eisenkot could try to draw them away, but the concessions required would undermine one of his principal electoral commitments.

A rightward shift beyond Netanyahu

Beneath the contest over personalities lies a broader political transformation. October 7 shattered confidence in the state’s ability to prevent catastrophe, while continuing threats from Hamas, Hezbollah and Iran reinforced the conviction that deterrence must take precedence over compromise. The space for a diplomatic alternative to the conflict with the Palestinians has narrowed considerably.

This shift extends beyond Netanyahu. Eisenkot and Bennett also favour hawkish security policies and reject Palestinian statehood. Their criticism centres on leadership, accountability and political alliances rather than a fundamental reconsideration of Israel’s security doctrine. The contest is increasingly about who can best defend Israel, not whether its prevailing approach to the region needs to change.

Demography reinforces some of these trends. The growing weight of religious and ultra-Orthodox communities strengthens parties that combine social conservatism with nationalist politics. The decline of the peace camp and the weakening of parties advocating territorial compromise suggest that a change of prime minister would not necessarily alter the country’s direction. Replacing Netanyahu would not, by itself, reverse Israel’s political transformation.

Routes out of deadlock

The election has left both camps searching for a combination of parties willing to cross their red lines. Three possibilities stand out.

The first is an opposition government dependent on Arab support. But this would require Eisenkot to persuade his Jewish partners to accept an arrangement that Netanyahu has spent years portraying as illegitimate. It would also require agreement on the terms of Arab participation and the government’s approach to Gaza and national security. This is the clearest parliamentary route to replacing Netanyahu, but not necessarily the easiest politically.

The second is a broader unity arrangement involving Likud and some of the centrist and right-wing opposition parties could avoid dependence on Arab support. It would, however, require major concessions. Eisenkot has campaigned against Netanyahu and held him responsible for the failures surrounding October 7, while Bennett and Lieberman have their own disagreements with the prime minister and his religious allies. Another possibility is to draw Shas or UTJ away from Netanyahu, but the conscription dispute makes this difficult for Eisenkot.

The third is prolonged deadlock followed by another election. If no government emerges after consultations, the Knesset can be dissolved and fresh elections held. Netanyahu would remain caretaker prime minister in the meantime. A new election, potentially in early 2027, however, might reproduce much the same arithmetic unless the opposition resolves its differences over Arab representation and conscription.

“Netanyahu has built a constituency that is almost unshakeably loyal to him,” says Scheindlin. “The opposition was hoping to peel enough of them away, but that did not work. Probably the only thing that would change this is his exit from the political scene. His supporters would then be forced to decide whether they really remain committed to what that bloc stands for or whether they see alternatives in other parties.”