This is supposed to be the most fateful election in Israel’s history—a vote on whether the country continues down the path of illiberalism, insularity, and aggressive military policies that Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has pursued over the past four years or whether it will return to its more liberal values and mend ties with a world that is increasingly shunning it.
Yet, for all that is at stake, the legislative election on Oct. 27 may not issue a clear decision on the country’s future. Even this late in the campaign, the polls show neither of the two major blocs winning outright. Netanyahu and his religious and far-right allies would capture no more than 49 seats, according to the latest polls. The gaggle of opposition parties united mainly in their desire to remove the prime minister from power would win no more than 54, far from the 61 needed for a parliamentary majority. The rest of the mandates would go mostly to two Arab-led parties, which could theoretically provide the anti-Netanyahu bloc with the margin it needs to govern, except that several members of that bloc have ruled out including these Arab-led parties in a future government.
This is supposed to be the most fateful election in Israel’s history—a vote on whether the country continues down the path of illiberalism, insularity, and aggressive military policies that Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has pursued over the past four years or whether it will return to its more liberal values and mend ties with a world that is increasingly shunning it.
Yet, for all that is at stake, the legislative election on Oct. 27 may not issue a clear decision on the country’s future. Even this late in the campaign, the polls show neither of the two major blocs winning outright. Netanyahu and his religious and far-right allies would capture no more than 49 seats, according to the latest polls. The gaggle of opposition parties united mainly in their desire to remove the prime minister from power would win no more than 54, far from the 61 needed for a parliamentary majority. The rest of the mandates would go mostly to two Arab-led parties, which could theoretically provide the anti-Netanyahu bloc with the margin it needs to govern, except that several members of that bloc have ruled out including these Arab-led parties in a future government.
Israeli polls don’t have a good record of predicting outcomes, for a number of reasons. Right-wing voters tend to distrust pollsters and don’t cooperate with them, so it is likely the surveys are underestimating Netanyahu’s strength. A big turnout by one side or the other, or by Arab voters, could change the final tallies. Most importantly, polls show two tiny parties hovering near the minimum number of votes needed to enter the Israeli parliament, or Knesset. A few thousand votes one way or another would determine whether they pass the threshold and could profoundly affect the outcome.
However, in the polls’ favor, the results have been largely consistent over time. While there has been a lot of shifting between parties inside the two big blocs, it seems that voters long ago made up their minds regarding the main issues. Even the recent flood tide of bad news for Netanyahu—repeated revelations of how he ignored warnings of an imminent Hamas attack before Oct. 7, 2023, and the abortive Flydubai hijacking that revealed government security shortfalls—has failed to move the needle. (U.S. President Donald Trump endorsed Netanyahu as a “Great Warrior Prime Minister” over the weekend, but that too appears to be already accounted for.)
Netanyahu, anticipating a possible defeat, may yet resort to extreme tactics to remain in office—including starting a war sometime before Oct. 27 or creating chaos at the polls when the voting gets underway. He might also challenge the veracity of the results if his side loses.
That an Israeli leader would be willing to risk a war to postpone the election may seem implausible, but Netanyahu is more determined than the typical politician to cling to power, if for no other reason than to avoid a criminal conviction. Netanyahu reportedly urged Trump to resume attacks on Iran before the election (though his office denies he did so), and he recently offered to join the Saudi campaign against the Houthis. A war would not necessarily be that electorally risky because the Israeli public remains on edge over security threats. It wouldn’t be difficult for the prime minister to convince voters that he had no choice but to launch an attack. The opposition would likely be cowed into supporting a Knesset vote to delay the election.
Interfering in the elections process would be less costly in terms of human lives and material damage, but it would involve administrating a strike at the heart of the democratic system. One avenue for interference is violence and harassment at polling places. A cadre of right-wing activists have developed the chops for street warfare by regularly harassing anti-government protesters and public figures. Far-right National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir has shown no compunction about using the police for political ends, which could result in their looking aside at assaults and other illegal activity. Another avenue would be to challenge the results after they come out, a task that will be made easier if the election is a close one.
Assuming none of the above occurs, what kind of government might emerge from the election?
If neither camp emerges with a majority, President Isaac Herzog has signaled his preference for a “national unity” government—a broad coalition that would include both allies and opponents to Netanyahu. This would spare the country another round of back-to-back elections, as happened in 2019-21. Though Herzog’s role is in most ways ceremonial, he chooses who gets the mandate to form the next government after elections—meaning he has some sway. But given how divided the electorate is and how poisonous politics has become, Herzog is unlikely to get his wish.
If Gadi Eisenkot, the standard-bearer of the anti-Netanyahu bloc, were to invite one or both of the Arab-led parties into the next government, he would enjoy a clear parliamentary majority. But that is unlikely to happen. Both the United Arab List and the Ra’am party have indicated a readiness to support a government of the anti-Netanyahu bloc. And a precedent was established in 2021, when Naftali Bennett formed a government with Ra’am’s support. But a lot has happened since then, not the least the trauma of Oct. 7 and Netanyahu’s unrelenting campaign to brand Israel’s Arab minority as traitorous. Among opposition leaders, only Yair Golan, the head of the Democrats Party, has said he would welcome them.
Instead, Eisenkot says that if the anti-Netanyahu bloc comes up short of 61 Knesset seats, he will form a minority government, presumably with one or both Arab-led parties providing a parliamentary safety net. Without a parliamentary majority, Eisenkot cannot count on staying in power for very long, but even a few months or a year would be enough time to effect important political change. A 100-day program would likely include a reversal of Netanyahu’s judicial overhaul legislation, which threatened to undermine democratic norms in Israel; the formation of a state commission of inquiry into the failings that led to the Oct. 7 attack; and a law barring people under criminal indictment from holding the post of prime minister—effectively ending Netanyahu’s political career.
While an Eisenkot government is unlikely to fully reverse Netanyahu’s aggressive military posture, it would crack down on settler violence in the West Bank and remove at least some of the 150 or so settler outposts established under Netanyahu since 2023. Eisenkot would be more accommodating to Trump’s plans for Gaza reconstruction and to reaching agreements with Lebanon and Syria. Israel’s plummeting international standing would improve, although probably not to the level it enjoyed before the war in Gaza.
In contrast to Netanyahu, Eisenkot can be expected to try to calm Israel’s turbulent political waters rather than riling them up in order to divide and rule as Netanyahu has done. But the sad fact is that politics in Israel, as in most democracies, has become so polarized and bitter that the task may be beyond Eisenkot’s abilities.
An Eisenkot government would face strong resistance from at least two constituencies. One is the extremist settlers, who would likely continue their anti-Palestinian violence even without government backing. They are too ideologically driven to see an election loss for their side as a reason to hold back and lick their wounds, and they have the support of many of the Israeli soldiers on the ground responsible for policing them. The other is the ultra-Orthodox, or Haredim, who are determined to fight any attempt to draft their young men into the army. Haredi street violence has not let up during the election; if anything, their anger has only grown as the army arrests draft-dodgers. With their political parties out of the government, their leaders will have no reason to hold back.
In parliament, Netanyahu will give an Eisenkot government no rest either. Assuming he stays on as Likud party leader (a distinct possibility given the paucity of contenders for the job), Netanyahu will no doubt launch the kind of scorched-earth policy he conducted when he was briefly out of power in 2021-22—delegitimizing the government and targeting potential coalition defectors. If anything, Israeli politics has gotten nastier in the past four years, so for Netanyahu even fewer holds are barred.
This scenario—a minority government led by Eisenkot and hobbled by significant challenges—is probably the most likely one. But there’s also a very real possibility that even a minority government would be out of Eisenkot’s reach and that Israel would have to call another election. Strangely enough, the interregnum could provide a window of opportunity for the anti-Netanyahu bloc. Netanyahu would remain prime minister but as the head of a caretaker government whose powers are severely constrained. In this interim period, the Knesset would be entitled to pass legislation, which means the anti-Netanyahu bloc (including the Arab-led parties) could use its majority to roll back some of the most problematic laws passed under the previous government as well as pass new legislation.
For the anti-Netanyahu bloc and for the country, this would be the second-best outcome—though a very distant second-best. Israel would be left in political limbo, divided and directionless at a time when it faces fateful choices about the shape of society and its growing international isolation—and as it contends with ongoing national security threats.