Only three Israeli governments in the country’s 77-year history have completed a full four-year term: Golda Meir’s (1969–1974), Menachem Begin’s (1977–1981), and Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s fourth government (2015–2020).
That’s it.
That historical reality hangs heavy over Netanyahu’s current coalition – the 37th government – which, despite the colossal failure of October 7, has already outlasted about 75% of its predecessors. Astonishingly, it has endured longer than most.
Now, though, it’s facing its most serious crisis yet. And the issue threatening to bring it down is one that has dogged Israeli politics for decades: the conscription of haredi (ultra-Orthodox) men into the army.
For years, there were two constants in Israeli politics: coalition crises are often overblown, and efforts to conscript the haredim never bear fruit. This week, both assumptions were being tested.
At the core of the drama is a yawning gap between what haredi rabbinical and political leaders want, and what the rest of the country is increasingly demanding. The former want things to remain as they are, and are pushing for legislation that would once again exempt tens of thousands of yeshiva students from IDF service. The latter – worn down by 600 days of war, repeated reserve duty, and a deepening manpower crisis – is saying: enough.
For the haredi leadership – both political and rabbinic – it’s as if October 7 never happened. As if hundreds of thousands of reservists haven’t put their lives on hold. As if the frustration and anger of the non-haredi public over unequal burden-sharing simply do not exist.
But they do. Very much so.
October 7 changed the country in fundamental ways. One is in how it views its security doctrine – and what it takes to keep Israel safe.
If, before October 7, the assumption was that passive deterrence alone could keep genocidal enemies at bay, there is now a realization that isn’t enough. That explains Israel’s more muscular responses to threats on all fronts: in Gaza, where the IDF continues to dismantle Hamas’s military infrastructure; in Lebanon, where the army operates against Hezbollah despite a ceasefire; and in Syria, where two rockets fired at the Golan this week led to widespread IDF retaliation.
Another shift is how the country views its army – and what kind of army it needs. October 7 shattered the notion that Israel could rely on a small, smart army, heavily dependent on technological wizardry.
Sophisticated systems are vital, but they’re not enough. Also required are large numbers of ground troops – widely deployed: in Gaza, across Judea and Samaria, along the Lebanese and Syrian borders (even, now, in Syria itself), on the Golan Heights, in the Jordan Valley, and along the Egyptian border.
The model of a lean, hi-tech army – once the pride of defense planners – no longer suffices. Hi-tech warfare has its place, but so do massed ground forces. And Israel simply doesn’t have enough of them.
So where will they come from? The dream that aliyah from the West would fill the ranks remains largely that – a dream. Meanwhile, there’s a large pool of healthy, military-aged men not being tapped. And that pool is in Bnei Brak, not Brooklyn.
For decades, the political system kicked this can down the road. October 7 ended that game. There’s growing recognition that the old formula no longer works – and the anger over the inequality is not going away.
That anger will almost certainly manifest at the ballot box. By law, elections must be held by October 2026. But they may come sooner if the haredi parties follow through on threats to leave the government if legislation to their liking on the conscription issue is not passed. Either way, the next election will revolve around two defining issues: the failures of October 7 and haredi conscription.
The numbers make clear what’s at stake. More than 80,000 haredi men are currently exempt from service. Meanwhile, the IDF says it needs 10,000 more soldiers in the short term to meet operational demands.
Last June, the High Court ruled that the long-standing exemptions for yeshiva students had no legal basis – setting the stage for this moment. Since then, the government has been under pressure to pass new legislation restoring the exemptions, or face widespread conscription orders. That clock has now run out.
On Tuesday, a last-ditch meeting was held between haredi leaders and Likud MK Yuli Edelstein, chairman of the Knesset Foreign Affairs and Defense Committee, in search of a compromise. It failed. Bills have already been introduced to dissolve the Knesset, though Netanyahu is meeting with the key actors in this drama to try to avert that outcome.
Edelstein – now a central figure in the crisis – is refusing to back down from two core demands: individual sanctions on draft dodgers, and high recruitment quotas for haredim. Anything less, he argues, would be a farce.
“A law without effective personal sanctions... is not conscription – it’s evasion,” he said this week. “I have opposed this all along.”
For this, Edelstein has come under fire not only from the haredi parties, but also from within Likud. Some accuse him of taking a hard line for political gain during a national crisis. Rumors are swirling that Netanyahu may fire him. However, Edelstein insists that the law emerging from his committee will not be a fig leaf – it will be a genuine solution addressing the country’s long-term security needs.
The haredi parties, meanwhile, are out of patience and threatening to bolt if a bill to their liking isn’t passed.
Ironically, if they do bring down the government, it would be a government that has given them more power and influence than nearly any in history – a “dream” coalition. Why blow it up?
Because they’ve climbed so high up a tree that the only way to get down and save face is chopping the tree down completely.
Promises made, lines drawn
Promises were made. Redlines drawn. And now, any compromise might be seen by their base as betrayal.
Since Rosh Hashanah, haredi leaders have been threatening to walk if legislation isn’t passed. First the deadline was Rosh Hashanah. Then Hanukkah. Then the budget in March. Then Shavuot. Each deadline came and went – no bill, no walkout.
That pattern erodes their credibility – not just with the general public, which increasingly sees these threats as empty, but also within their own community.
And that community is growing anxious. Benefits are being cut. Sanctions are being enforced. Travel restrictions are being discussed. If haredi politicians can’t deliver results, they risk losing not just leverage in the coalition – but their own public’s trust.
MEANWHILE, THE political map is beginning to stir ahead of potential elections. Most notably: former prime minister Naftali Bennett’s return. With the exception of pro-Netanyahu Channel 14, all polls show that if Bennett runs, he wins – and emerges as the largest party.
That said, Bennett has historically polled about 50% higher than he performs at the ballot box, so the numbers must be treated cautiously. Still, his return and the entry of other new (or new-old) players would shake up the electoral map.
Others are positioning themselves as well. Former national security adviser Giora Eiland, now a regular media commentator, has hinted he may join Avigdor Liberman’s Yisrael Beytenu Party. A new wave of figures – reservists, bereaved parents, and former hostages – may also enter the field, offering a different kind of political capital: one built on personal experience, not slogans.
The ideological landscape is also revealing. A Midgam poll this week of 1,000 Jewish Israelis found 66% identify with the Right or Center-Right. Just 14% identify with the Left or Center-Left. The rest see themselves as centrists. This has clear implications for party strategy heading into elections – whenever they come.
One party defying expectations – at least until recently – was The Democrats, the Labor-Meretz merger led by Yair Golan. Despite Meretz failing to enter the Knesset last time and Labor winning just four seats, Golan had been polling in the double digits. That was until May 20, when he said Israel kills babies “as a hobby.” Since then, he’s slipped several seats in the polls.
That comment may cost him more than votes – it could cost him coalition options. If Bennett wins and tries to form a government without a Netanyahu-led Likud (if the prime minister does not lead the party, all kinds of coalition possibilities emerge), Otzma Yehudit, or the Religious Zionist Party, he’ll face a choice: Golan, who maligned soldiers, or the haredim, who refuse to serve. Neither option will be popular.
Elections – or even the smell of elections – always bring the promise of change. But they also bring complications. This time will be no different – whether the vote is this fall, next summer, or October 2026.