When the fanfare dies down, unlike the beautiful lyrics of Naomi Shemer's song, love songs will not bloom here. Not because an election year tends to push unity and romance to the sidelines, but because of the complex and intertwined challenges facing Israel both domestically and internationally.
The disgraceful heckling of Netanyahu's name in front of Trump administration officials, caught off guard and visibly uncomfortable, is a telling indicator of the domestic climate. The joyful return of the hostages, while heartening, is unlikely to usher in an Israeli internal unity so crucial for confronting external threats. The fact that this is an election year will only further exacerbate polarization. Among us lives a radical minority that has never wavered from its overarching goal: to delegitimize the sitting government, and especially its leader, at any cost.
This is not merely harsh criticism of specific policies. This is a sweeping, absolute campaign of delegitimization that recognizes no limits or rules of engagement. The same people who invoke "statehood" as their guiding principle wield the term in vain, draining it of all substance. Other slogans, like "brothers in arms," are similarly emptied of meaning. To them, the government is illegitimate by its very nature. They are fundamentalists who frame the internal struggle in stark, binary terms: good versus evil, children of light versus children of darkness, messianics versus liberals, dictators versus democrats.
Make no mistake: this is not some fringe minority with no sway. Many of its members, or at least its most influential voices, are entrenched in the country's key power centers. They enjoy near-automatic backing from the bulk of Israel's mainstream media and benefit from protest funding on a scale never before seen here. However small this group may be, the toxic atmosphere it fosters has seeped into broader opposition circles to varying degrees.
Polls reflect this trend: figures like Yair Golan, who openly use radical delegitimizing rhetoric, are gaining traction. In contrast, opposition figures who maintain a more measured, statesmanlike tone – like Benny Gantz – are losing ground.
On the regional front, the Arab and Muslim countries participating in the Sharm el-Sheikh summit harbor deep hostility toward Israel. Public discourse in many of these countries is riddled with antisemitism, in varying degrees and forms. For them, the Gaza Strip is meant to serve as a perpetual source of provocation and harm to Israel – a pressure point to challenge Israel diplomatically and militarily. These states are already looking for ways to justify expected violations of the complicated ceasefire agreement.
France and Spain, also present at the summit, symbolize the broader international dynamic – a toxic blend of two persistent patterns observed throughout the war: the soft bigotry of low expectations for Palestinians, and the antisemitism of impossibly high expectations for Israel.
The Palestinians are consistently afforded understanding, indulgence and tolerance for every violation of any agreement. Israel, by contrast, is always expected to uphold rigid rules of conduct and adhere to international laws of war that no other country on Earth is required to follow. Yes, that too is antisemitism. Imposing unique standards on Israel – and on no other state – aligns precisely with the definition of modern antisemitism. But who cares? During the war, we saw campaign after campaign against Israel – from "war crimes" to "genocide" to "starvation." There is always a new blood libel to invent when it comes to Israel.
In the months ahead, Israel will mark 70 years since the brutal murder of Ro'i Rothberg, of Kibbutz Nahal Oz. The eulogy delivered by Moshe Dayan should remain etched in the minds of today's decision-makers:
"Beyond the border furrow, a sea of hatred and revenge boils, awaiting the day when our calm dulls our vigilance; the day we heed the envoys of hostile hypocrisy urging us to lay down our arms... Let us not shrink from recognizing the hatred that accompanies and fills the lives of hundreds of thousands of Arabs, who sit in wait for the moment their hands can reach our blood... This is our life's choice – to be ready and armed, strong and unyielding, or to let our sword slip from our grasp – and perish."
