We are down to crunch time. With Tuesday’s elections approaching, a significant portion of the Israeli electorate is still struggling with a fundamental question: Who deserves our vote?
But perhaps we should be asking a different question: How did we end up with essentially the same political leadership that brought us to October 7?
Think back to the days immediately following the greatest catastrophe in modern Israeli history. Amid the shock, grief, and anger, there was one sentiment that seemed to unite Israelis across the political spectrum: Enough.
We promised ourselves that things would change.
We spoke about a new generation of leadership emerging from the battlefield. Men and women who had dropped everything on October 7, left their families and businesses, and rushed to defend their country. People who demonstrated that leadership was not about political survival, television appearances, or accumulating power, but about responsibility, sacrifice, and service.
Political initiatives began forming around this very idea. Perhaps those who fought together in Gaza and Lebanon, despite their political and religious differences, could also govern together in Jerusalem.
They might disagree about judicial reform, religion and state, or economic policy. But they understood something our politicians seemed to have forgotten: You can disagree with someone without treating him as your enemy. You can disagree and still work together for the nation.
For a brief moment, it seemed that October 7 might produce a genuine political revolution.
So what happened? Somewhere along the way, the political establishment and much of the media convinced us that new leadership was too risky. That experience, even experience associated with catastrophic failure, was preferable to fresh faces and fresh ideas.
And so here we are, once again being asked to choose among the very people who helped shape the security and political systems that failed us.
Israel's leaders responsible for October 7 failure
Consider the four prominent figures seeking to lead Israel: Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, Gadi Eisenkot, Naftali Bennett, and Avigdor Liberman.
Netanyahu bears the greatest responsibility. He was prime minister on October 7. The bottom line is that the buck stops with him.
He deserves substantial credit for Israel’s military achievements since October 8. But those accomplishments cannot erase his responsibility for what happened the day before. He can argue that he relied on the intelligence community and the military establishment. That may be true. But leadership means accepting responsibility for the institutions under your command, especially when they fail catastrophically.
Yet Netanyahu’s challengers cannot simply present themselves as innocent bystanders. Eisenkot served as IDF chief of staff. Bennett and Liberman both served as defense ministers. Each occupied positions of enormous influence over Israel’s military preparedness, strategic priorities, and defense establishment.
True, they did not all hold office on October 7, and their individual responsibilities are certainly not identical. Nevertheless, each played a significant part of the system whose assumptions and shortcomings demand serious examination.
Remember what happened when reservists reported for duty after the massacre? Many discovered that their units lacked essential equipment: modern protective vests, helmets, tactical uniforms, drones, and other basic necessities.
Instead of receiving everything they needed from the military establishment, reservists and their families scrambled to raise money. Jewish communities abroad opened their wallets. Volunteers organized emergency shipments. Private citizens worked around the clock to equip soldiers heading into battle.
It was an extraordinary demonstration of Jewish solidarity. It was also an indictment of our military preparedness. How could a country that spends so much on defense find itself relying on private donations to equip soldiers going to war?
The shortages raised serious questions about procurement, budgeting, inventory management, and readiness. These questions cannot be directed only at the government in office on October 7 or the prime minister. They must also be directed at those who previously led the defense establishment who were derelict in their responsibility of making sure that our soldiers have the equipment and ammunition they need to fight our enemies.
Accountability cannot be selective. We cannot demand Netanyahu’s resignation because of October 7 while automatically exempting former defense ministers and chiefs of staff from scrutiny simply because they now oppose him.
If October 7 taught us anything, it should be that titles, experience, and impressive military résumés are not substitutes for accountability.
Fortunately, there are alternatives worth examining.
People of Israel, headed by Ofer Winter; Haredi Public, headed by Moti Leitner; and the Reservists-Economic Party, headed by Yoaz Hendel, represent attempts to bring different voices and approaches into Israeli politics.
These parties should be judged seriously, including on their policies, leadership, competence, and ability to govern. Newness alone is not a qualification, and voters must also consider whether smaller parties can cross the electoral threshold. But surely, we owe new political movements more than automatic dismissal.
We desperately need leaders whose first instinct is cooperation rather than confrontation, whose loyalty is to the country rather than their political careers, and who understand that national unity is not merely a slogan reserved for wartime.
The men and women who defended Israel after October 7 demonstrated extraordinary courage, initiative, and responsibility. Why should we assume that the people capable of leading soldiers under fire are incapable of helping lead the country? Why should we assume that new voices are incapable of solving the issues that the current political class continues to kick down the road?
October 7 was supposed to be a turning point in Israeli history. It should also have been a turning point in Israeli politics.
We cannot keep complaining about the same politicians, the same divisions, and the same failures, only to return them to power election after election.
If we truly meant what we said after October 7, then it is time to give a new generation of leaders a chance. In the immortal words of Hillel from Ethics of the Fathers 1:14: “If not now, when?”
Israel deserves more than another election between yesterday’s failures. It deserves a new beginning.
The writer is the managing partner of Dekel Capital Management, a resident of Beit Shemesh, and an avid Zionist who cares deeply about the future of the State of Israel and the Jewish people.