This book was originally completed in November 2022, at the time of the Israeli election and the formation of a new government. The Epilogue was added more than a year later, in March 2024. This addition was necessary since Israeli society has been experiencing two unanticipated major crises. First, the government’s planned ‘judicial reform’ divided society into two sharply antagonistic blocs that battled each other for many months. Second, the sudden October 2023 outbreak of the Hamas–Israel War in and around Gaza has already had profound results. The ‘judicial reform’ is presently dormant, while the Gaza War is intense and continuing. This therefore is an ‘interim epilogue’, an analysis of critical events whose outcomes are uncertain, and that will influence and mold society for years, if not decades, to come.

The epilogue’s purpose is twofold. First, it provides a selective review of events as they emerged during 2023 and early 2024. Second, it references the theoretical model of ‘alternate forms of Israeliness’ proposed in Chapter 7. How well does this formulation explain or help us to understand the unfolding events?

The Conflict over the Government’s Proposed Judicial Reform

The November 2022 election was the fifth in a period of four years. This itself was unprecedented and an indication of society’s internal divisions and fragility. The election brought to power Israel’s most far-Right groups, including the Likud, the leading party, plus the haredi religious parties, and a new party made up of religious nationalists (the West Bank ‘chardalim’) together with a second group (called ‘Jewish Power’) that is outspokenly racist and anti-Arab. Bezalel Smotrich is the leader of the first group, and Itamar Ben-Gvir the second. The two are the most controversial figures in the new government – Smotrich was appointed minister of finance and also given responsibility for ‘civilian issues’ on the West Bank, and Ben-Gvir, who years earlier was rejected by the army because of his far-Right political activities, became minister of national security (renamed by him from minister of police). It was, as its supporters liked to say, a government that finally was ‘Righter than Right’.

The Likud Party with Netanyahu as prime minister was the largest party in the new government. Although the division of Knesset members was a governing coalition of sixty-four with fifty-six in the opposition – thereby assuring what seemed to be a workable majority – the actual difference in votes was much closer, around 30,000 among some 4 million voters. The voting public, in other words, was nearly split down the middle. During the election campaign, Netanyahu and other Likud spokespersons emphasized tackling issues such as bringing down the cost of living and exorbitant housing costs, and providing personal security by strengthening the police and the army. However, shortly after taking office the prime minister and Yariv Lavin, the new minister of justice, announced that the immediate topic on the government’s agenda was ‘reforming the judicial system’. More particularly, Levin proposed that the composition and power of Israel’s Supreme Court be radically changed and weakened: The government would have the majority vote in selecting Supreme Court judges and the head of the Court, and the Court’s decisions could be overturned by a vote of sixty-one Knesset members, a tiny majority. Taken together, these and other planned changes amounted to the total weakening of the court system and would give almost unlimited power to the government. Levin had previously argued that the Court’s power to review and overturn Knesset decisions was undemocratic. (‘Why should twelve unelected judges have greater power than Knesset members who were elected by hundreds of thousands of voters?’) The new laws were brought to the Knesset Law and Justice Committee headed by Simcha Rothman, a close ally of Levin and a member of the Religious Zionist Party, and with his unflinching leadership, they were rapidly adopted despite the loud criticism of opposition party members.¹

The new laws immediately became the flashpoint between the government, the opposition parties, and large sections of the Israeli public. In brief, the changes that the government described as mere ‘judicial reform’ – and the opposition denounced as nothing less than an ‘attempted coup’ – were the major source of the emergent deep schism and lengthy conflict.

Why did the new Likud-led government give priority to changing the legal system? Although the Court had stringently used its authority to reject Knesset-approved laws, the question of the relative balance between government, Knesset, and the court – the complex issue of ‘checks and balances’ in a democracy – had been in dispute for some time.² Critics of the Court argued that its composition was overly homogeneous (‘they are all Ashkenazim from Jerusalem’s Rechavia neighborhood’), that most of the judges were graduates of the Hebrew University’s law school, and that they neither reflected nor understood the diverse Israeli society. (It was subsequently revealed that an Israeli think tank called Kohelet, sponsored by several American Jewish billionaires, had been preparing conservative legislation including the new ‘judicial reform’).³ Besides, having near absolute power was an attractive possibility, and the coalition’s Rightist majority could make it real.

In addition, it was widely thought that Prime Minister Netanyahu’s trial on charges of corruption and misuse of office was the real reason behind the proposed changes. Many believed that this was the proverbial ‘elephant in the room’, and while Netanyahu denied the claim, others thought that weakening the Court would provide ways for the prime minister to avoid a prison sentence. The whole rumpus, it was said, was caused by one man’s desperate wish to stay out of jail.

Despite the opposition protests, the new laws were quickly approved, initially by the committee and then by a first vote in the Knesset (three votes are required for a proposal to become law). However, the Israeli public and international negative reaction to the planned ‘judicial reforms’, plus the massive weekly protest demonstrations, were a strong and effective counterweight.

The critique and active opposition came from many places.⁴ Nearly all of Israel’s respected economists signed a letter warning the government that weakening the Supreme Court would have serious negative economic consequences – international investors would no longer put money into Israeli firms without a strong and independent court system. Even more, the managers of leading Israeli hi-tech companies threatened that they would leave the country and move elsewhere if the changes were made. Israel has become a successful hi-tech hub – the number of skilled workers employed in hi-tech companies has steadily increased, and nearly a quarter of government revenue comes from taxes paid by successful companies – and the rising standard of living of the Israeli middle class is dependent upon this key economic sector. The heads of all Israeli banks and major companies also warned that the planned changes would have drastic negative consequences. Nonetheless, despite the almost universal economic warnings, the government continued to deflect criticism and reject demands that the laws be shelved.

An even more serious opposition was initiated by groups of army reserve officers, who announced that they would not continue their volunteer reserve duty if the new laws were passed. Their number was not large – perhaps several thousand or less – but they came from key elite units such as pilots and navigators, special duty reconnaissance groups, the army’s computer and cyber specialists, reservists serving in tank brigades, and others. They were seasoned veterans who continued to report for reserve duty, but who now argued that they ‘would not volunteer under a dictatorship’. This was an especially controversial matter – the Israeli army has been glorified as a place above politics, and men in these elite units took special pride in serving into their thirties and forties. They were attacked in some of the media as traitors endangering the country’s safety and security, while others applauded their courage and urged them to continue.

Strong critique also came from international sources. The International Monetary Fund (IMF) and leading bond-rating agencies warned that if introduced, the changes would have drastic results: Israel would become like Hungary and Poland, who had autocratically weakened the courts and whose economies had suffered. The most decisive attack came from the American president. The Democratic Party, and President Biden in particular, had long been Israel’s major supporter, and over the years the US has granted many billions of dollars in military and other aid. But the president pointedly refused to invite Netanyahu to the White House, a traditional act following the election of a new Israeli prime minister, and said instead that ‘shared democratic values’ between the two countries were now threatened and Israel should put aside the proposed legislation.

None of these objections seemed to make much of a difference to Netanyahu, Levin, and the new government, who continued to deflect the criticism. What did make a difference, however, was the almost immediate wave of demonstrations that brought tens of thousands of Israelis onto the streets to protest their plans.

Protest demonstrations are not a new feature of Israeli life. For example, in an earlier era when there was a greater sense of social cohesion and trust, following the disastrous Yom Kippur War in 1973, a single soldier named Moti Ashkenazi sat outside Prime Minister Golda Meir’s office demanding that she take responsibility – and his protest was an important factor in her subsequent resignation. Later, in 1982, as a climax to the First Lebanese War, about 400,000 Israelis packed a square in Tel Aviv to protest the slaughter in Palestinian refugee camps – and soon thereafter Israel withdrew its army that had surrounded Beirut. In 2011, the ‘cottage cheese protest’ broke out, and mainly young Israelis camped out in Tel Aviv’s Rothschild Boulevard protesting the high cost of living. Prime Minister Netanyahu deftly diverted the issues by appointing a committee headed by an economist ‘to study the issues and make recommendations’ – and the demonstrations dissolved, and nothing changed.

This time it was different. There was neither trust nor consensus between the government and the opposition, and the far-Right government-planned changes were immediately understood to be a threat to democracy and a decisive move towards an autocratic (and perhaps theocratic) state. The media pronounced that this ‘was the deepest crisis in Israel’s seventy-five-year history’, and opponents agreed that it must be resisted and the judicial coup overturned.

Weekly demonstrations against the previous Netanyahu government were held in Jerusalem in 2021, and these relatively small activist groups soon moved to Tel Aviv and again pressed their opposition. Additional social media-linked groups joined them, and beginning in January 2023, protest marches filled the streets around Tel Aviv’s Kaplan Boulevard.⁵ They were soon joined by tens of thousands of others – mainly younger people, the majority secular with a smattering of religious Jews, middle- and upper-middle class Israelis from a variety of ethnic backgrounds, for most taking part in a demonstration for the first time and all coming together to protest the government’s plans. There was no overall central direction or political party leadership – the activists deliberately kept politicians away from the crowds of demonstrators. And, in a moment of pure genius, they adopted the Israeli flag as their emblem. During previous decades, the flag had become associated with the nationalistic Right – but now it became the symbol of the opposition. The on-the-ground and televised imagery of a sea of waving flags held by thousands of ordinary citizens – some with small children on their backs, others with elders in wheelchairs – was authentic and powerful. The crowds also had an anthem – a plaintiff song in the ‘SLI tradition’ called “I Do Not Have Another Country” sung by volunteer performers and their audience. The weekly Saturday night Tel Aviv demonstrations attracted well over 100,000 participants, and by February similar events were held in Jerusalem, Haifa, and dozens of other towns, and the numbers were more than doubled. The Jerusalem event was held next to the president’s residence, and it drew both secular and religious (but not haredi) crowds, and in Haifa a small number of Israeli Palestinians also joined. As an almost regular feature, activist groups marched to nearby major roadways and stopped Saturday night traffic, and the police who were present in large numbers used water cannons and charging horses to reopen the roads. Crowds closing the roads was more a symbol of defiance and resistance than of angry aggression, and the demonstration and marches were overwhelmingly peaceful. Nonetheless, Netanyahu and his supporters called the demonstrators ‘anarchists’ trying to bring down society and its elected government. Some on the Right argued that they had responsibly endured a trauma during the 2005 army-led removal of Israeli settlements near Gaza and the West Bank – and that it was now the Left’s turn to quietly accept the proposed legal reforms. They argued as well that they themselves, and not the marchers, were the ‘real Israeli patriots’ and that their ‘voice was not being heard’ – they were no less legitimate and important than the elitist pilots who threatened not to report for active duty or the Tel Aviv hi-tech youngsters who blocked traffic on the throughways.

By late March 2023, it seemed that the momentum was with the demonstrators and the opposition. The demonstrations were continuing and growing, the Israeli currency had weakened, there were deadly terror attacks in both the West Bank and Tel Aviv, and the polls showed that most Israelis opposed the government’s judicial reform or at least wanted it delayed and reconsidered. The government, and Netanyahu at its head, appeared inept and out of control, and racist-laced speeches by Smotrich also received widespread negative publicity. In response, the prime minister organized a series of expensive and controversial weekend visits to European capitals – Paris, Rome, Berlin, London – where he met briefly with foreign leaders, presumably to demonstrate his close relations with other heads of state. In another incident, he fired the minister of defense Yoav Gallant, and only later reinstated him after a huge wave of criticism that included Likud leaders and supporters. And perhaps most important: Polls showed that the Likud Party was losing public support and that only months after taking office it was in danger of becoming a minority party.⁶

It was in this changing context that an agreement was reached to delay further votes in the Knesset and try to find a compromise or a better set of procedures in the legal system. The Knesset was not in session during April, and instead it was agreed that teams representing the government and opposition would meet in the president’s residence and, under his authority, attempt to resolve the crisis. In the meantime, the weekly protest demonstrations went ahead, government supporters were organizing their own large demonstration near the Knesset, and Yom Ha’Zikaron, the day devoted to the memory of soldiers killed in battle, promised to be no longer a solemn, sacred event but rather to become entangled in the ongoing schism.

The issues at stake then focused on the courts. The Likud-dominated Knesset passed a controversial law barring the use of the legal concept of ‘proportional’ from the Supreme Court’s rulings. The law was phrased as a “Basic Law” that presumably could not be reviewed or rejected by the courts. In addition, the government passed a law restricting the power of the state attorney general to remove a prime minister because of his or her crimes or illegal behavior. Both laws were immediately challenged by opposition groups who petitioned the Court to reject them. This challenge set the stage for a fateful confrontation between the Knesset and the courts – if the Supreme Court were to overturn the laws, who would a citizen or group of citizens follow, the elected Knesset or the appointed Court Justices? The court heard legal arguments during the summer months and agreed to issue its decision in due course. The rulings were announced in late December 2023 and January 2024, and in both cases the Supreme Court overruled and rejected the Knesset laws by slim eight-to-seven and six-to-five margins. But by then what had earlier appeared to be fateful decisions were only momentarily noticed. Israel was suddenly at war with Hamas, the Palestinian Islamist group that ruled Gaza, Hizballah, a Lebanese Shiite group, had opened a second front along Israel’s northern border, and the ‘judicial reform’ was buried beneath widespread mutual death and destruction.

“Black Saturday” and the War in Gaza

October 7, 2023 began as a quiet late-summer day, the last day of the weeklong Jewish holiday of Succoth. It was a Sabbath morning, and all of Israel was still asleep or just awakening when, at about 6:30, the normal quiet was suddenly shattered by the sounds of blaring air-raid sirens as rounds of rockets were fired at scores of Israeli towns and villages. The rockets were fired from Gaza, the tiny, densely populated southern zone that bordered on Israel and Egypt, and they were fired by Hamas, the radical Islamic Palestinian armed force that controlled Gaza and claimed the destruction of Israel as its central goal. The latest Israel–Hamas war in Gaza had begun, a war that at the time of writing is far from over.⁷

The rocket barrage was mainly a cover for what was really happening. The Israeli army had built a costly miles-long metal barrier around Gaza to prevent Hamas from tunneling underground and sending its terror groups into Israel. The defenses were thought to be impregnable, but the well-organized and equipped Hamas battalions easily broke through the barriers and invaded Israel in large numbers. The Army was totally unprepared for what was quickly unfolding. Troops normally stationed around Gaza had been sent to the Palestinian West Bank that seemed more dangerous, and the “received wisdom” (ha’consepziah in everyday Hebrew) shared by both army generals, the heads of the security services, and the responsible political leadership, was that Hamas was not interested in or capable of mounting a major military conflict. There had been many prior warnings that they were preparing a large-scale attack, but the collected evidence was ignored or rejected by the responsible officials. It was another enormous Israeli intelligence failure – far more terrible and costly than the Israeli intelligence failures that marked the 1973 Yom Kippur War fifty years earlier. This time it was not a surprise attack by enemy armies, but an invasion into Israel itself and the slaughter of unarmed civilians and unprepared soldiers.⁸

A string of Israeli kibbutz villages, small towns, and army bases bordered the Gaza enclave, and organized groups of Hamas fighters dressed in dark uniforms and mounted on white pick-up trucks and motorcycles systematically entered and attacked each place. The Israeli resistance was sporadic and disorganized – in some places policemen, a few soldiers, and local defense groups fought back, but in many kibbutzim Hamas quickly overran the community and systematically destroyed homes and took civilians and soldiers as hostages. That was the overall plan: Kill Israelis, destroy their communities, take hostages to Gaza. Many kibbutz families sought protection by locking themselves into their home concrete air-raid shelters, but the Hamas soldiers set fire to the homes or killed the people with explosives. It was a savage, hugely destructive rampage, and infants, elderly grandparents, and entire families were killed or captured and taken into Gaza as hostages.

Another slaughter was meanwhile taking place at Kibbutz Re’im. A popular rave festival had begun the night before, and hundreds of young Israelis were dancing to the DJ’s electronic music when suddenly the sounds of rockets screaming overhead and the appearance of Hamas terrorists sent them rushing to escape by foot or car. Some managed to get away, but more than 350 youngsters were shot and killed, dozens were taken hostage, and some of the women were raped and then murdered (The Times of Israel, November 17, 2023). Those that survived wandered through fields for hours and sometimes days until they were found by soldiers or their families.

On that day, October 7, 2023 – labelled “Black Saturday” by the Israeli media – Hamas units had successfully invaded Israel and destroyed or severely damaged a series of Israeli communities and army bases; some 1,200 soldiers and civilians were killed and many more were wounded; and 240 Israeli soldiers and civilians were taken to Gaza as hostages.⁹ The Hamas marauders were followed by other minor Palestinian terror groups who also took hostages, and as the word spread a horde of young and older Gazans also breached the fences and began a campaign of pillage, murder, and rape. It was many hours before Israel army units arrived to retake military control, and days later Hamas fighters were still found in Israeli territory near Gaza. Nothing comparable had ever happened before – this was the worst disaster in Israel’s brief, conflict-laden history. This sudden unanticipated chain of events raised fear and doubt among many Israelis: Where was the Israeli army, the most trusted Israeli institution, while this killing rampage (some called it a ‘pogrom’) was taking place? Zionism and the Jewish State were created to protect Jews from violent anti-Semitism and the weakness of their diaspora minority status, and yet the nation’s borders were easily breached and a huge number of citizens killed. What had gone so terribly wrong, and what could be done to correct the awful situation?

The moment the war started was also the moment that the contentious issues regarding ‘judicial reform’ ended. The army pilots and other reservists who for months threatened ‘not to volunteer under a dictatorship’ immediately reported for active duty, and the minister of justice reluctantly agreed that the planned legal reform was shelved. Signs pronouncing ‘unity for victory’ began appearing everywhere, and the weekly antigovernment demonstrations were called off. Shock, fear, and chaos rippled through all segments of Israeli society. ‘How could this happen?’ was the immediate, dazed response as many Israelis feared that events and their own lives and futures were out of control. Daily rocket bombardment continued, aimed not only at places near Gaza but also at Tel Aviv and its adjoining towns, and Ben Gurion International Airport was closed, isolating Israel from the rest of the world. One response was to become personally secure by acquiring a weapon: If the army could no longer be trusted, then families needed to defend themselves, and almost overnight an estimated 200,000 Israelis applied to legally purchase and carry a gun. The response at the governmental level was confused and chaotic. Government ministers made contradictory statements, no effective policies or programs were proposed or implemented, and instead the local municipal governments and voluntary civil society groups filled the void. The best example is an internet-based group called “Brothers in Arms,” which was prominent in the antigovernment demonstrations, and which overnight turned its efforts to supplying food and other needed supplies to the damaged kibbutzim and army units.

The war between Israel and Hamas than began in full strength. Prime Minister Netanyahu and Defense Minister Gallant proclaimed that the war had three major objectives: first, to destroy Hamas’s military capabilities, second, to kill the Hamas political leadership, and third, to achieve the safe return of the hostages. The army ordered an immediate call-up of about 350,000 reservists, the air force began bombing Hamas tunnels and military installations, and the government ordered a blockade of food, fuel, and other basic necessities into Gaza. In a series of TV appearances Gallant and the army chief of staff warned that it would be a long war, taking months or perhaps a year, but in the end the objectives would be achieved. This war strategy was totally different from previous Israeli actions: In previous wars and military actions against Hamas, the political leadership had purposely chosen not to conquer Gaza since that would make Israel responsible for ruling over two million Palestinians crowded into a tiny, poor, underdeveloped zone. But the vicious carnage of the Hamas surprise attack, plus the image of a weak Israeli army and leadership, changed all of that. The stated objective was total Israeli victory at all costs, even though what ‘victory’ meant and what would follow was left open and unexplained.

In addition, as Israel was preparing to invade Gaza, a series of high-ranking army generals and others announced their personal responsibility for the October 7 debacle. They included the army chief of staff, the head of the Southern Command, the head of military intelligence, and the head of the Shin Bet secret services. Announcing responsibility meant that they would resign their positions once the war was over, even before a future high-level Committee of Inquiry would later determine personal responsibility. Conspicuously absent from the list of those responsible was Prime Minister Netanyahu, who repeatedly refused to admit his role in the disaster. It was an army intelligence failure, he claimed, not his fault, and his denial initiated an overt ‘blame game’ between the army leadership and the right-wing Netanyahu-led government. Constant bickering at the highest governing levels during an ongoing war had never happened before, and it presaged a likely return to deep division once the war ended.

As the army made final preparations to invade Gaza, destroy Hamas, and free the hostages, the US, and President Biden in particular, announced their unqualified support for Israel. Hamas had instigated the war, many Israeli civilians were brutally murdered, and, besides, Hamas was a terror organization that promoted Iranian interests and caused unrest throughout the Middle East. Defeating Hamas was in America’s vital interest, and the US Congress voted a fourteen billion dollar special appropriation to assist Israel in the war. US army planes began daily flights delivering needed munitions and armored vehicles, and in an unusually dramatic show of support, later in October President Biden flew to Israel where he met with Prime Minister Netanyahu and his cabinet and again voiced his support. In addition, Biden also began to publicly support the concept of a ‘two-state solution’ to the endless Israel–Palestine conflict. It was not enough to defeat Hamas, the conflict demanded resolution, and the way forward was to work towards establishing an independent Palestinian State in the West Bank and Gaza. Needless to say, this was ignored or outright objected to by Netanyahu and his far-Right government, but Biden maintained this major policy objective throughout the following months.

In mid-October Israel massed troops and tanks for the planned invasion. Gaza is a tiny strip of land, amounting to about 350 square miles with a population of more than two million people squeezed into several cities, numerous refugee camps and villages, and occasional agricultural fields. This is Gaza above ground – but there also is an underground Gaza carved out of long intricate tunnel networks and larger spaces where Hamas manufactured some of its weaponry and prepared to resist an anticipated war. The Israeli attack was planned to begin from the North, and before the troops advanced Israeli planes began an intensive bombing campaign. The underground tunnel networks where Hamas fighters were stationed deliberately ran through urban neighborhoods – hospitals, schools, mosques, and other public buildings were interconnected by the tunnels – so that bombing posed the risk of massive civilian casualties. And, in fact, the relentless bombing and subsequent street-by-street fighting led to mounting civilian deaths. Entire streets and neighborhoods were destroyed, dozens, hundreds, and later thousands of civilians were killed, and the Israeli army circulated pamphlets requesting that civilians leave northern Gaza and flee to nearby southern areas. A so-called ‘safe corridor’ was opened, and tens of thousands fled South to Gaza City and Khan Younis where for a brief time the bombing was less severe. These latter places became overly packed with helpless displaced families, and as the Israeli army began moving southward they were again caught in the midst of a hugely destructive urban battlefield. An estimated 65 percent of homes in northern Gaza were severely damaged or destroyed, and the Gaza Ministry of Health announced daily the growing number of Palestinian civilians killed. The dead were mainly helpless women and children, and as the war continued the numbers grew to 10,000, 15,000, and as many as 30,000. This included an unknown number of Hamas soldiers (in January 2024 the Israeli army estimated that 8,000 Hamas soldiers had been killed), but the main casualties were Palestinian civilians. The humanitarian crisis was immense – the lack of food reached starvation levels, safe drinking water was scarce and brackish, hospitals were overwhelmed by the wounded and lacked medicines, an improvised tent city provided barely minimum services for some of the displaced (there were no sanitation or water networks), and Gazans were overwhelmed by feelings of hopelessness, doom, and despair.¹⁰

As the war continued through November and December the colossal destruction led to mounting criticism of Israeli war policies and practices. Many Israelis saw retribution if not revenge for Hamas’s original slaughter and hostage taking – but the Arab world and many in Europe and the US saw a frightening illegitimate war in which Israel was destroying Gaza and killing thousands of innocent women and children. Support for Israel became much more controversial and limited, thousands marched to protest Israeli war policies in London, Paris, and Washington, DC, anti-Semitic incidents were reported in many places, and in some US college campuses Jewish students said that they felt unsafe during anti-Israel protests. President Biden was himself critical, and while siding with Israel at the UN Security Council, he also advised Netanyahu and the army to purposely limit civilian casualties. In January 2024 South Africa brought charges of ‘genocide’ against Israel to the International Court of Justice at The Hague. The tide of opinion seemed to have shifted – following October 7, 2023, Israel was seen to be the victim of a vicious attack that killed the innocent and took hostages, but by January 2024 the huge civilian damage in Gaza led to widespread criticism of Israel’s actions.

Although the major war centered on Gaza, Israel soon found itself fighting Iranian proxy groups along several fronts. In northern Israel the Lebanese-based Hizballah forces fired rockets across the border into nearby towns and villages, and Israel replied by shelling and air strikes aimed at Hizballah fighters and their tactical positions in Lebanese villages. There were daily encounters, but both sides seemed to abide by a mutual understanding to limit the violence short of a full-scale war. There was an immediate danger of civilian casualties, and on both sides residents near the border left their homes and fled to safer places. More particularly, the Israeli army required families to leave their homes close to the border and take up temporary residence in hotels located in safer areas. The same policy was introduced in the towns and villages near Gaza – the remaining residents were relocated to empty Tel Aviv housing estates and hotels in Eilat and the Dead Sea. More than 200,000 Israelis were forced to leave their homes and seek temporary shelter for an unknown future. A forced relocation project of this size had never happened, and it added to Israel’s growing sense of chaos and anxiety.

Two other violent zones were added to the deadly conflicts in the North and South. There were armed cells of Hamas supporters in the West Bank, and Israeli army units fought with them to contain terror attacks aimed at West Bank settlements and within Israel. In addition, Houti tribesmen in Yemen who were aligned with Iran began firing long-range cruise missiles across the Red Sea towards Eilat, and they also attacked ships thought to have Israeli ownership. Most of the attacks failed, but the US and some allied countries began bombing Houti military bases. There was a growing danger of a larger Middle East war, possibly even directly involving Iran, and the US, Egypt, and others sought to dampen the dangers and limit the warfare.

The safe return of the 240 Israeli hostages was a principal reason for Israel’s decision to invade Gaza. As the invasion proceeded Prime Minister Netanyahu and Defense Minister Gallant repeatedly pronounced that success in attacking Hamas was the way to free the hostages – overwhelming military pressure would lead Hamas to negotiate and free the hostages. Never before had so many Israeli citizens become prisoners of an enemy power, and the hostages’ families and friends quickly organized, demanding their immediate return. The hostages included months-old babies and elderly grandparents, women and men, soldiers and citizens of many countries including France, Great Britain, and the US, and the longer they were in Hamas underground tunnels the greater the likelihood that some would die or be killed. In November, negotiations began in Qatar between Israeli, US, Egyptian, and Hamas representatives towards an agreement that would free some of them. Following negotiation it was finally agreed that Hamas would release 105 hostages – 81 Israeli women and children, 23 captive Thai workers, and a Philippine citizen – and in return Israel would stop its war activities for several weeks, 240 female Palestinian prisoners held in Israeli jails would be released (a three-for-one swap), and hundreds of trucks with desperately needed food and fuel would be permitted to enter Gaza. The agreement was successfully carried out, the fighting temporarily stopped, but when the last group of hostages returned the war was immediately renewed.

Many hostages remained in Hamas control, and as the weeks and months passed their families and supporters became increasingly active, demanding their release. In the past, Israeli hostages were exchanged for Palestinians convicted of terror activities held in Israeli jails. (For example, in 2011 an Israeli soldier named Gilad Shalit who had been taken captive by Hamas was exchanged for 1,027 jailed Hamas members.) In Tel Aviv’s hostage-protest center the families and their supporters organized daily demonstrations, and some met with Netanyahu and Gallant to learn more about the government’s plans to gain their return. In December 2023 they organized a large protest march from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem demanding that the government act immediately. The repeated demonstrations began to gain wider public support, and it soon became clear that the government had divided opinions: Some of the leadership, including Netanyahu and Gallant, continued to press for continued military action that would ultimately free the hostages, while others believed that a major exchange of prisoners was required if the 131 remaining hostages were to be freed. They argued that military raids could not return the hostages alive – they were divided into groups somewhere in the tunnel complex and attempts to free them would only lead to their death. In over 120 days only three hostages were successfully rescued, and in another tragic mishap another three who escaped were mistakenly shot and killed by Israeli soldiers who thought they were Hamas operatives.

This dilemma brings us to consider some of the underlying social and political features of the ongoing war. Still overwhelmed by the fears and chaos resulting from the sudden crisis, less than a week after October 7 Benny Gantz’s National Union Party offered to join Netanyahu’s coalition government as a way to provide a more unified and experienced war effort. Netanyahu accepted what was seen to be a patriotic offer, and an agreement was reached in which five members of Gantz’s party joined the government as ‘ministers without portfolio’. More importantly, a small war cabinet including the prime minister, defense minister, and Gantz, plus his associate Gadi Eisenkot and Ron Derner, Netanyahu’s trusted advisor, were included as ‘observers’, and henceforth they were to make key strategic war decisions. Both Gantz and Eisenkot had served as army chief of staff, and their experienced presence in the war room was seen by many Israelis to be a positive and even calming development. Although this provided the prime minister with a wider government, Gantz and Eisenkot were entirely focused on the war, while Netanyahu was managing his right-wing coalition government. Thirty-seven ministers had been appointed – an astronomical and unheard-of number – as part of his effort to keep the haredim and Religious Zionist factions in the government, and huge budgetary allocations were made to haredi institutions and West Bank settlements. The yearly budgets of the universities and Israeli–Palestinian development projects were cut – they were not Likud supporters – while Ben Gvir was busy reorganizing the police and prison services to become even more rigid and anti-Arab, and some of Smotrich’s Religious Zionist Party colleagues dreamed of returning to Gaza and establishing new settlements there.

As time and the war wore on it appeared that Netanyahu and his government were losing public support. Polls taken in November and December indicated that in a new election the Likud would lose half its Knesset seats and become a minority party, and Gantz’s party would become the largest party able to form a new government. Nonetheless, Netanyahu adopted a strong ruling posture: He publicly differed with President Biden regarding a ‘two-state solution’, continued to claim that the war needed to continue in order to free the hostages, pointedly refused to explain how Gaza might be organized after Hamas was defeated, and both he and Gallant also refused to explain what was meant by an ‘Israeli victory’ in the Gaza War.

By early January 2024 the issue of returning the hostages had become prominent – and the prime minister seemed to prefer continuing the war rather than negotiating their return that would entail huge concessions demanded by Hamas. Moreover, and more damaging, he was accused of prolonging the war since he thereby remained in power and avoided prosecution from his endless ongoing corruption trial. The hostage question was crucial – it appeared that Israelis who favored continuing the war without a hostage deal were Netanyahu supporters, while those calling for negotiations releasing the hostages were his opponents. Indeed, the latter group also began organizing for new elections and a new government, and the ever-present signs saying “We Will Win Together” showed signs of cracking.

Reflections and Conclusions

The previous sections have presented an update, a selective review of the many linked events that took place during 2023 and early 2024. This has been an extraordinary tumultuous year in Israel’s seventy-five-year history. Societies rarely change their structure and character in brief yearlong moments, and yet the past year certainly has been a kind of watershed period. Widely held supposed truths have again proven to be unconvincing or wrong, and following October 7, a pall of apprehension, uncertainty, and fear has seized wide sections of the Israeli public. What conclusions, however provisional and tentative, can be drawn regarding this still-continuing flux of events? And, as a kind of subheading, how does the formulation of ‘alternate forms of being Israeli’, and of a secular plus traditional religious majority intertwined with large haredi and Israeli–Palestinian minorities help to understand the current condition of Israeli society?

The book’s subtitle emphasizing Israel as a ‘divided society’ continues to be an accurate formulation. This was especially true in the many months-long battle over the judicial reform – proponents of the government’s planned changes in the legal system coalesced on one side, just as opponents organized themselves into an effective counterforce on the other. This conflict sometimes bordered on violence, and yet confrontations between the two sides were mainly restrained (police behavior at the demonstrations was responsible for generally restrained instances of violence). This internal division and conflict seemed to have magically disappeared on October 7 – ‘Israel at war’ once again meant that yesterday’s sharp divisions were pushed aside or papered over. For example, the media featured stories of the common bonds and understandings between army reservists fighting together in Gaza – on the battlefield they were neither ‘Left’ nor ‘Right’, Ashkenazim or Mizrachim, but rather Israelis serving their country together.¹¹

However, while the signs on the highways and TV screens proclaimed ‘unity’ and ‘togetherness’, as the months passed the cracks and divisions started to reappear. They were wider and different than those formerly termed ‘tribal groups’ and also not strictly between the ‘Rightist government’ and ‘Leftist opposition’. Perhaps the best way to characterize the emergent sentiments and nascent groups is ‘Liberal and moderate Israelis’ on the one hand, and ‘Conservative and Jewish religious Israelis’ on the other. For example, the former gave priority to negotiating the hostages’ return, while the latter wanted to continue the war and destroy Hamas. This possible categorization is useful, although probably imprecise and overly static – the endless flux of rapidly changing events means that none of the usual formulations are fully adequate or accurate. Attitudes and moods change quickly, and one could be in favor of continuing the war and also demand Netanyahu’s resignation – or join demonstrations demanding the hostages’ return while also rejecting a two-state solution.

The viewpoints and allegiances of many Israelis might and did change, but some crucial facts were stubbornly unchanging. After more than four months of intensive air and ground warfare none of the Israeli government’s stated goals was achieved: Hamas’s armed force was decimated and diminished but not yet destroyed, nor was their enormous underground tunnel system destroyed; many Hamas middle- and higher-level military commanders were killed, while their key leaders were alive and actively functioning; and 131 Israeli hostages were still held captive somewhere in Gaza, although how many of them were alive was unknown. The Israeli army invasion had led to the destruction of huge sections of Gaza, and 30,000 or more Palestinian civilians had been killed in the air raids and ground warfare. The tide of world opinion had turned. The Israeli army’s destruction of large sections of Gaza, the continuing death of innocent civilians, and the spreading famine and medical crisis led to a condemnation of Israel that included many of its longtime supporters in Europe and the United States. Finally, Hamas’s bold military-political success increased its support among Palestinians in the West Bank and throughout the Arab world, and possibly beyond.

Turning next to the analytic framework of ‘alternate forms of being Israeli’, we proceed by first examining the range of behaviors among the secular Jewish majority. Throughout 2023, the extent of this segment’s political mobilization has been extraordinary. Participating in demonstrations became a regular feature of their everyday lives. These were political demonstrations – they brought into the streets people favoring or opposing government plans and decisions, but they were not necessarily tied to political parties. The crowds of demonstrators were drawn from all sides of the political party spectrum as well as many who were not politically aligned or party activists. This is a new and effective reality, and it is likely to continue.

Additionally, October 7’s sudden savage attack led many secular Israelis to reconsider or rethink their political beliefs and orientations. On the Left, some who had actively supported greater ties and reconciliation between Arabs and Jews now wondered whether this was ever possible. How could they trust Palestinians who had killed infants and murdered families, or those who although not taking part in the massacre understood and even approved it? Many among them were shocked, uncertain, and pessimistic regarding Israel’s present and future place in the Middle East. Among those on the Right, the October 7 events reinforced their belief that Arabs could not be trusted and that the idea of a reconciliation or a two-state solution was naïve and dangerous. According to this viewpoint, what had happened in October was a continuation of the ancient hatred against Jews, and the only proper response was to strengthen the army and smash Hamas and their Palestinian and other supporters.

These were among the immediate responses to the Gaza war. In the first weeks and months, and as the daily rocket attacks continued, many among the secular majority appeared to be entirely focused on the war (this was also true of the two minority segments). Schools, shops, theatres, and markets were closed, and the around-the-clock TV newscasts were mandatory viewing. But as the war continued, entering its third and fourth month, and rocket attacks were less frequent, the malls began to fill with shoppers, and restaurants that had closed reopened. Some remarked that they ‘felt guilty’ as they shopped while family members and friends were in the midst of a deadly war – and yet normalcy seemed to return. This did not apply to everyone, and especially not to the displaced families from places near to Gaza and others next to the northern border with Lebanon. They were in temporary makeshift quarters, and their lives were entirely turned upside down.

Serving in the army, and especially being part of elite fighting units, has been a cardinal virtue among secular Israelis. Many took pride in and looked forward to their yearly reserve training exercises that often continued for many years. As noted earlier, when the Gaza war broke out the reservists (miluimlikim in Hebrew) responded positively and quickly reported for duty. About 350,000 reservists were activated, and these seasoned veterans of earlier wars and skirmishes in Gaza and Lebanon were deeply involved in the fighting. As the war continued, and daily exchanges with Hizballah forces in the north also intensified, the army command announced that its present forces were not adequate for a lengthy two-front war. Consequently, some younger recruits were called up, the veteran reservists’ period of duty was extended, and, particularly important, two new sources were identified. Secular young women have been required to begin serving at eighteen, and over the years some have been assigned to important intelligence tasks and a small number volunteered to serve in combat groups. The army now proposed to include women in a wider range of what had been exclusively male combat units, including elite groups such as the Sayeret Matkal, the prestigious high-command reconnaissance group. This is not a small or negligible development – the move towards ‘gender equality’ in the army is likely to have long-term societal consequences.¹²

The second army-designated recruit reservoir is even more significant. The fast-growing haredi male population have automatically been exempted from army service, and the army command explicitly requested that haredi young men be required to serve – they were sorely needed in the gravest crisis in the nation’s history. As we know, the haredi automatic exemption has long been a major dispute between the haredi leadership and the secular majority. Resolving this basic inequality has been discussed for years but pushed aside, the Supreme Court ruled that haredi men must serve in some capacities, and the Court instructed the government that a new, more egalitarian conscription law must be enacted before April 1, 2024. Paradoxically, it appears that the Gaza war may be the catalyst provoking major changes – and major conflicts – within Israeli society.

How have the two large minority groups, haredim and Israeli Palestinians, responded to Israel’s deepest crisis? In what ways are they connected with the majority secular segment and the fateful 2023 events?

The haredi political parties are part of the present Rightist government, but unlike the other coalition partners they did not take an active part in the lengthy judicial reform conflict. They had their own critique of the Supreme Court (primarily about haredim serving in the army) and they took a neutral position – the wrenching battle regarding the Court was not ‘their issue’ and they chose to quietly stand aside. Their lack of involvement changed after October 7: The sudden attack against Jews was a terrible event and like all Israelis they too were shocked, deeply concerned, and frightened. Some interesting changes then began taking place. According to media reports, shortly after the war broke out several thousand young haredim sought to enlist in the army. The army authorities quickly announced that they would accept their volunteering and place them in service tasks. How many joined is unclear, but probably closer to several hundred. Nonetheless, the long-standing strained ties between haredim and the army – and secular Israeli society in general – may have begun to shift. The small number of haredim already serving in the army reported that they were no longer hounded and instead were praised by others who were interested in their experience.¹³ In addition, more sustained activities were undertaken by various haredi groups. To cite several examples: Haredi women were busily occupied in preparing kosher food for the soldiers, and Zaka, the haredi group dealing with death and burial, was enormously involved in identifying and burying the hundreds of Israelis who were slaughtered on October 7. Other than that, they prayed for Israel’s safety and victory in war. Their Knesset representatives were much more active and engaged – Prime Minister Netanyahu was intent upon retaining his coalition partners (and his own position) and consequently the haredi politicians succeeded in dramatically increasing government budgets for haredi schools and yeshivot. Once again, paradoxically, in the midst of war, a population segment that did not serve in the army was being economically rewarded.

The issues are even more complex. As emphasized earlier, the army command has concluded that many more soldiers are needed and that haredim must now be mobilized in significant numbers. This long-disputed position is widely supported by secular Israelis – indeed, the dramatic growth in haredi government support angered the secular majority and Netanyahu’s policy boomeranged against him. A political crisis may be fast approaching. Haredi rabbis have almost unanimously opposed army service since that would disorient their young male yeshiva students by separating them from haredi practices and involving them in the ‘moderna’, the blasphemous features of modern living. Depending upon how the political debate evolves, the rabbis might choose to leave the coalition and the government would fall. And, as seen from a different perspective, this set of complex issues may be the best example of why and how Israeli society may never be the same after October 7. To be sure, nothing is certain, but the approaching crisis might have long-lasting results.

The circumstances and responses of the large Israeli–Palestinian minority are, of course, considerably different. The Gaza population includes large numbers of refugees from the 1948 Nakba and their descendants. Many of them continued to maintain kinship ties with their Israeli families who worried about their safety as the war expanded. At first, the sheer ferocity and slaughter of October 7 angered them, and some Israeli Bedouin who lived in the area were murdered by the Hamas terrorists. In this sense they, as Israelis., identified with the Jewish majority and were shocked by the disastrous events (Haaretz, December 19, 2023). Later, however, and particularly as the bombing and shelling killed thousands of Palestinian women and children, they became more critical and outspoken. Some wrote messages of criticism on social media platforms, and several were questioned by the police or brought to court and received jail sentences. In other instances, Israeli Palestinians working for Jewish firms were made to feel unwanted or were even dismissed. There were a few demonstrations against Israeli army policies, and there too the police monitored the small crowds and made arrests. To summarize briefly, their complex position as ‘Israeli Palestinians’ was once again underscored.

On a very different level, when the war broke out the number of Israeli Palestinians killed in family feuds and gang violence fell to practically zero. The reasons for this are not clear, although it may be the result of greater police presence or a sense that the Gaza war crisis was not the proper time for taking revenge. Unfortunately, the murder rate later began climbing, and it continues to be an acute problem in many Israeli–Palestinian communities. It is not an ‘Arab problem’, but rather an unresolved ‘Israeli problem’ of major proportions (Haaretz, March 4, 2024).

This analysis, focused on ‘alternate forms of Israeliness’, underscores the complex ways in which Israel’s major population segments interact and affect one another. The time frame of a single year is obviously too limited to highlight broader trends and potential structural changes – but it offers a promising way to configurate the intense flow of events into a viable analytic framework.

Finally, where is this mutual crisis and destruction going, and how much longer will the Gaza war and other related violence continue? Is there an ‘end game’ and, if so, what is it likely to be, or is this just another in an unending and unresolvable chain of brutal clashes between Jews and Arabs over Palestine?

It is much too early to give anything like definitive answers. There are many possible outcomes or scenarios: The war may drag on for months and end in a stalemate; it may end with the massive exchange of Israeli hostages for jailed Hamas terrorists; it may end with the freeing of hostages, the dismantling of Hamas rule and the killing of Hamas leaders; it may pause for a few months and then begin again even more ferociously; it may spread into a full-scale Middle Eastern war involving Iran, Israel, the US, and others; it may end with an Israeli defeat and Israel becoming a pariah state. Any of these, or a combination of several, are possible. Once again, it is too early to know how things will unravel.

Two comments may, however, be offered. First, it should be recalled that several years after the hugely destructive Yom Kippur War, Egyptian President Anwar Sadat came to Israel to begin a discussion of peace and mutual recognition between Israel and Egypt, and soon thereafter Israel, Egypt, and Jordan signed recognition treaties and exchanged ambassadors. Egypt and Israel had suffered terrible losses in the war, but they both appeared to understand that peace between them was a better alternative then war. This does not mean that a ‘two-state solution’ between Israel and Palestine is likely or even possible – the issues are incredibly complicated, and it is difficult to imagine a settlement being agreed. But what it does mean is that sometimes even the most bitter and complicated disputes can be resolved.

Second, since the Gaza War began Israelis have been told that ‘things will never and should never be the same’ and that after the war a new generation of leaders must restructure major features of Israeli life. What this actually means is rarely explained, but the desire for change is palpable. In one possible scenario, at some time after the war when destruction ends a probable minority of Israelis will begin to question whether endless war with the Palestinians is inevitable – whether terrible wars and mutual terror must be fought every ten years, and children be born and raised well knowing that they will become soldiers and face death at an early age. Perhaps there ‘is a partner’ – perhaps there are other ways to settle old continuing disputes. And, accordingly, a minority of Palestinians will also ask the same questions and search for better answers. Hopefully, this is a scenario that might begin to succeed.