Two years after the October 7 massacre, Israel stands at a political crossroads. The fighting is currently at a halt, but the future remains unclear. US envoys and senior officials fly in and out, probing who exactly governs and what direction the country is headed. The hostages who survived are home – a major national relief – but questions about accountability, recovery, and leadership persist.
Public opinion offers one clear signal: most Israelis supported ending the war to secure the hostages’ release. A recent survey found that 76 percent of Israelis favor the ceasefire agreement that ended the war in Gaza, compared with only 11 percent opposed and 13 percent undecided. Among Jewish Israelis, support stands at 73 percent, while an overwhelming 88 percent of Arab citizens back the deal. Notably, a majority of coalition voters – 57 percent – also support the agreement, alongside 91 percent among opposition voters. This rare consensus cuts across political and demographic lines.
With the Gaza war’s second anniversary behind it, Israel is already shifting into campaign mode. Elections are expected as early as June 2026, several months before the official deadline. For Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, earlier is better: he would prefer to ride the momentum of the ceasefire, return of the hostages, and military victories against Iran and its regional proxies. He also hopes to showcase diplomatic breakthroughs – potential new signatories of the Abraham Accords – while keeping any reckoning for October 7 safely distant.
When the Knesset reconvened in mid-October, lawmakers faced a packed agenda. The most urgent items are familiar: the conscription bill for ultra-Orthodox men, the wartime budget, renewed debates over annexation, and legislation aimed at curbing the independence of Israel’s judiciary. Beyond these, little meaningful legislation is expected; the coalition simply lacks the votes.
The two ultra-Orthodox parties, Shas and United Torah Judaism (UTJ), have withdrawn most of their active participation in the coalition – leaving Netanyahu with a minority government. Every vote now carries existential weight, and the winter session is likely to be dominated by political bargaining rather than lawmaking.
Prime Minister Netanyahu’s strategy hinges on balancing three forces pulling in different directions: (1) The ultra-Orthodox parties demand permanent exemptions from military service, while the (2) Religious Zionist bloc views this as a historic opportunity to entrench Israeli sovereignty across the West Bank, officially annex the territory, and bury the idea of Palestinian statehood. (3) At the same time, Netanyahu must navigate the Trump Administration’s increasingly assertive stance and its efforts to redraw regional alignments.
Washington prefers a quiet front in Gaza, gradual regional normalization, and no unilateral annexation – as emphasized just last week during US Vice President J.D. Vance’s visit and in statements made subsequently by President Trump. Each decision – on the budget, draft law, and settlement expansion – reverberates across this triangle of competing pressures. For now, Netanyahu’s goal is to maintain a fragile equilibrium until the timing is right for elections.
The Religious Zionist bloc has emerged as the driving force behind what is no longer “creeping” but accelerated annexation policy. With the Finance, National Security, and Settlements portfolios under their control, as well as MK Bezalel Smotrich’s ministerial position in Defense, Religious Zionist ministers have reshaped West Bank governance and land allocation.
Since October 7, the pace of annexation policy has accelerated: unprecedented settlement expansion, a record number of outposts legalized, and the Palestinian Authority’s influence deliberately weakened. Yet Netanyahu recently drew a temporary line. The prime minister instructed his coalition chair “not to advance proposals regarding the application of sovereignty in Judea and Samaria until further notice.” Meanwhile, Education Minister Yoav Kisch stated during a Knesset debate: “I deeply believe in sovereignty, but it is not achieved through opposition initiatives. We are building it every day on the ground.”
As Minister Kisch stated, de facto annexation proceeds: construction budgets rise, land designations expand, and administrative powers shift from military to civilian hands. Even without a formal declaration, the outcome of these policies could make annexation a fait accompli.
The upcoming Israeli election will be a contest between five broad camps:
The Hostage Families Forum and the bereaved relatives’ movement have played a central role in shaping Israel’s national conscience. Their call for accountability – most notably through demands for a state commission of inquiry into the failures of October 7 – has stirred broad public empathy. When the Knesset panel rejected their proposal, the families accused the government of “burying the truth.”
Together with the pro-democracy protest movement, which managed to block Netanyahu’s judicial overhaul for now, these networks have shown an exceptional ability to mobilize Israelis who feel unrepresented in the current Knesset. They have also elevated a new generation of civic leaders whose empathy and moral clarity resonate beyond partisan lines. Yet as their influence has grown, so has the backlash. In recent months, right-wing media and coalition figures have sought to discredit the Hostage Families Forum’s leaders, accusing them of “weakening the army” and “dividing the nation.” Commentators in pro-government outlets blame the pre-war protest organizers for undermining unity before October 7, and the hostage movement for doing so after – a rhetorical inversion that shifts blame from those in power to those demanding accountability.
What began as a movement of compassion and solidarity is being recast as a threat to national strength. The Hostage Families Forum has become both the symbol of Israel’s conscience and the target of efforts to silence it. The challenge moving forward is whether it translates into winning elections, influencing legislative agendas, and shifting public opinion.
Netanyahu’s corruption trials continue, but their political relevance has largely faded. What once threatened his rule has become background noise, overshadowed by the war and a coordinated campaign to weaken the judiciary itself.
In recent months, ministers and coalition figures have intensified their attacks on Israel’s legal institutions – not only questioning the courts’ authority but attempting to rewrite it. Justice Minister Yariv Levin and his allies now argue that any commission of inquiry into the October 7 failures should be appointed not by the Supreme Court, as required by law, but by “someone everyone trusts” – meaning, the government. Others on the right, such as MK Amichai Eliyahu, have called for the High Court itself to be investigated, accusing it of “tying the army’s hands.”
In this context, the trial no longer matters as a constraint; it serves as a symbol. The judiciary itself has become the target, not the venue, of accountability. The outcome of this struggle will determine not only Netanyahu’s personal fate but the balance of power between Israel’s elected government and its independent institutions.
Two years after October 7, Israel is not at peace but at a pause. The guns are mostly silent, though ceasefire violations abound. And Israel sounds with unfinished business – a fragile coalition, an impending draft crisis, and a society still reckoning with postwar trauma. The coming election will determine not only the future of Israeli leadership but also whether accountability, pluralism, and restraint can regain footing after years of fear and fragmentation. Meanwhile, the country sorely lacks a meaningful political vision, and its very identity is at stake.