NOURNEWS: The war was expected to unite Israel. Instead, as the country heads toward another election, it has laid bare the depth of the regime’s political divisions. For years, Netanyahu has sought to portray himself as the only leader capable of managing Israel’s security threats. Today, however, he finds himself in a markedly different position: his political standing has eroded, while rivals from both the security establishment and the nationalist right are steadily drawing support away from his traditional base.
The latest electoral polling reflects this reality. According to Channel 13’s most recent survey, Likud leads with 22 seats, while Gadi Eisenkot’s newly formed Yashar party and Naftali Bennett’s Beyahad party each secure 21 seats. A single-seat gap separating the three leading parties illustrates an extraordinarily competitive race with no clear frontrunner. A separate Channel 12 poll even placed Eisenkot ahead of Likud, with 23 seats compared to Likud’s 22.
The central issue, however, is not which party ranks first, but rather the Israeli political system’s inability to produce a stable governing majority. In the Channel 12 poll, Netanyahu’s governing bloc secured only 52 seats, while opposition parties collectively reached 59—leaving neither camp anywhere near the 61-seat threshold required to form a government. Even when opposition parties approach a parliamentary majority, their fragmentation among Eisenkot, Bennett, and several smaller parties makes the formation of a cohesive coalition exceedingly difficult. Israel increasingly faces a political reality in which winning an election does not necessarily translate into the ability to govern.
Meanwhile, 64 percent of respondents in the Channel 13 poll rated Netanyahu’s performance negatively. This figure highlights the growing gap between Likud’s electoral resilience and Netanyahu’s personal popularity. While Likud may remain Israel’s largest party, Netanyahu is no longer viewed by many voters as the country’s most credible leader. The emergence of former Israel Defense Forces Chief of Staff Gadi Eisenkot as a serious contender for the premiership also suggests that Israeli society has not abandoned its preference for a hardline security policy; rather, it is searching for a different leader to implement it.
Against this backdrop, the conflict in the Persian Gulf has become a double-edged sword. In the short term, war can create a national security atmosphere that strengthens the incumbent government. Yet the longer the conflict continues, the greater its economic, military, and social costs become, inevitably shifting domestic attention toward a fundamental question: what tangible achievements has the war actually produced? Netanyahu now faces growing pressure to explain precisely what the war is intended to accomplish and how its conclusion should ultimately be defined.
It is in this context that Vice President J.D. Vance’s recent remarks assume particular significance. In a media interview, Vance claimed that certain elements within the Israeli government had sought to influence American public opinion in an effort to prevent a shift in Washington’s policy toward Iran. He had previously warned Israeli critics against attempting to obstruct the Trump administration’s evolving approach. Regardless of the fate of the Islamabad understanding—which both sides now describe as effectively terminated—these comments suggest that disagreements between Washington and Tel Aviv extend well beyond any single agreement. They instead reflect a broader strategic dispute over who should determine the future course of the crisis: who decides whether the war continues, ends, or changes direction?
Netanyahu therefore finds himself caught between two conflicting pressures. To preserve his domestic coalition, he must maintain a hardline posture toward Iran. Yet sustaining a prolonged military campaign requires continued American political and strategic backing. The more dependent Israel becomes on U.S. support, the greater the likelihood of disagreements over both the objectives and the timeline of the war. This paradox has the potential to transform an external conflict into a full-fledged domestic political crisis.
If the war drags on, the government’s political costs will continue to mount. If it ends without achieving its stated maximal objectives, Netanyahu will be forced to defend its outcome. And if a new diplomatic track emerges, the Israeli right may interpret it as a retreat. Consequently, a war that was expected to reinforce Netanyahu’s political position could instead become one of his greatest political liabilities.
From this perspective, Israel’s next election is about far more than the 120 seats of the Knesset. It may determine whether Netanyahu can still convert national security crises into political capital, or whether war, deteriorating relations with the United States, and growing public dissatisfaction will ultimately converge, making him the principal political casualty of the current crisis. Israel now stands on the threshold of an election whose outcome may not bring an end to political instability, but rather usher the country into a new and potentially even more volatile phase of political uncertainty.