Israel’s existential threat is its lack of social cohesion

Israeli social and political discourse has long viewed threats to the country’s physical existence and way of life as originating primarily from external sources. Iran, Hezbollah, the Palestinians, the new or old regime in Syria and, more recently, the Houthis in Yemen are all commonly identified as such dangers. More broadly, Israel sees itself as navigating, to a greater or lesser extent, a hostile international environment. The prevailing narrative, which is hardly a reflection of reality, is that Israel’s prosperity, advanced economy and powerful military have been achieved despite these threats and often in defiance of the international community.

The “us against the world” mentality can occasionally serve a purpose, but it also compromises Israel’s ability to develop a more nuanced understanding of threats, risks and opportunities. More importantly, it distracts attention from what may be the country’s most serious long-term challenge: a society that, by its very nature, has always been fragmented and is becoming increasingly so.

These deep social divisions constitute the true existential threat to Israel’s long-term survival because they undermine the difficult and ongoing process of nation- and state-building. Equally, they make it far more difficult to respond effectively and rationally to external threats.

At first glance, the challenges of nation-building in Israel are hardly surprising. A vast majority of the population has arrived from all corners of the world, many carrying the trauma of displacement, persecution or survival of the Holocaust. At the same time, the Palestinian citizens of Israel, who understandably do not subscribe to the Zionist ethos, must be treated as equal citizens — that is if the country would like to be truly democratic — all while being engaged in recurring conflicts and wars.

At best, the nation-building project remains unfinished; at worst, it has regressed during periods of crisis

Yossi Mekelberg

That this process has been only partially successful should come as no surprise, and it has left nation- and state-building in Israel as unfinished business. At best, the project remains unfinished; at worst, it has regressed during periods of crisis. When political leaders feed on divisions and convert them into political capital, society is pushed toward a breaking point. This may make the impending general election one of the most consequential in Israel’s history and carries the risk that both the process and its outcome could deepen social rifts that are becoming increasingly difficult to bridge.

Over the years, several distinct communities have emerged within Israel that share only a limited sense of common identity beneath the veneer of a unified society. Perhaps the most notable are the more than 720,000 Jewish settlers living beyond Israel’s internationally recognized borders in East Jerusalem and the West Bank, representing about 10 percent of the Jewish population.

Worse, certain extremist segments among them are carrying out violent attacks against their Palestinian neighbors with increasing frequency, operating with a sense of impunity as if they are above the law. They confiscate Palestinian land and establish settlements with or without formal government approval. In some cases, attacks have resulted in deaths, while accountability remains rare.

Within parts of the settlement movement, a culture has emerged that views itself as superior not only to Palestinians but also to much of Israeli society. The law is respected when convenient and disregarded when it is not. This is facilitated by political representatives in the Knesset and a government that provides protection and support.

The ultra-Orthodox community represents another significant social divide that has built a semiautonomous existence. Historically, many ultra-Orthodox Jews opposed Zionism on theological grounds while living in the diaspora, the Ottoman Empire or later Palestine. When the Zionist project materialized into the state of Israel, these ultra-Orthodox automatically became Israeli citizens but developed a unique arrangement: they benefit from the state’s resources and protections while maintaining minimal engagement with broader Israeli society.

At the same time, they have used their political influence to secure exemptions from some of the most fundamental civic obligations. They were allowed to establish an autonomous education system, paid for by the very taxpayers whose way of life they despise. With their education system, where yeshiva students are not required to study core subjects such as mathematics, science or foreign languages, their contribution to the economy is marginal.

Today, about 1.45 million ultra-Orthodox (Haredi) Jews live in Israel, accounting for 14.3 percent of the population. The vast majority do not serve in the military, despite court rulings requiring broader participation. Like the settlers, they are protected by coalition partners whose support is essential to Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s political survival.

Palestinian citizens are frequently viewed with suspicion and, at times, treated as a potential fifth column

Yossi Mekelberg

Recent attempts by the military to enforce court orders against draft evaders have triggered violent protests, attacks on soldiers and police officers, and the blocking of major roads. Earlier this month, dozens of ultra-Orthodox protesters attempted to storm the home of Supreme Court Deputy President Noam Sohlberg, himself an Orthodox Jew and a settler, in protest at the arrest of Haredim who had ignored military draft orders. Demonstrators vandalized the entrance to the building, smashed windows, damaged Sohlberg’s vehicle and left leaflets declaring: “Sohlberg, take your hands off Haredi Judaism.” This anomaly has become a major issue of contention in Israeli society.

Another major fault line is the status of Palestinian citizens of Israel, who constitute about one-fifth of the country’s population. Many live separately from the Jewish majority, experiencing discrimination that is sometimes embedded in law and at other times reinforced through social practices. They are frequently viewed with suspicion and, at times, treated as a potential fifth column. The 2018 Nation-State Basic Law reinforced perceptions of institutional inequality among many Palestinian citizens.

Perhaps the clearest indication that a significant portion of Israeli society does not fully accept Palestinian citizens as equal political partners is the long-standing reluctance to include Arab parties in governing coalitions. When an Arab party joined the Bennett-Lapid coalition government and proved to be a constructive and responsible partner, the backlash from parts of the political system was intense. The resulting political pressure contributed to the coalition’s collapse. Shamefully, both Naftali Bennett and Yair Lapid subsequently ruled out forming a similar coalition after future elections.

Like any society, Israel also experiences divisions based on income, geography, religiosity, ethnicity and the distinction between newer and more established communities. In the age of social media, these differences are often amplified and exaggerated. In Israel’s case, however, the cumulative effect of these divisions is unraveling the society.

Hundreds of thousands of Israelis, particularly among the more internationally mobile and educated segments of society, are choosing to leave the country in search of opportunities elsewhere. Others are retreating further into separate communal identities while openly challenging the authority of the state.

If these unsustainable trends are not reversed, the gradual erosion of Israeli social cohesion is likely to continue and may accelerate, while it is also impossible to separate this fragmentation from the corrosive effects of maintaining the occupation of millions of Palestinians under a different legal and political system. This is the momentous task Israeli voters should consider when they next cast their vote.

• Yossi Mekelberg is a professor of international relations and an associate fellow of the MENA Program at Chatham House. X: @YMekelberg