Election night in Israel has become something of a ritual. Even before the final polling stations close, television studios prepare their dramatic announcements, party activists gather at campaign headquarters, commentators rehearse explanations of victory and defeat, and the public is invited to choose not only a political party but also a version of reality. Within minutes of the exit polls appearing on screen, statistical estimates are treated as political verdicts. Yet in a democracy, it is not the exit poll that decides the result. It is the votes cast by citizens.
That familiar ritual returned with Israel’s election on Tuesday, 27 October 2026. While ballots were still being counted, several figures in the camp seeking to replace Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu were already speaking as though the outcome had been settled. There were smiles at party headquarters, confident speeches, and an unmistakable expectation of a change of government. As the count progressed, however, the danger of declaring victory prematurely became increasingly apparent. The first projections had offered an impression of certainty that the actual ballots did not support.
To understand why, one must first understand Israel’s electoral system. Israel is a parliamentary democracy in which citizens do not directly elect their prime minister. Instead, they vote for party lists competing for the 120 seats in the Knesset, the Israeli parliament. The entire country constitutes a single electoral constituency, and seats are distributed proportionately among lists that cross the electoral threshold of 3.25 per cent. After the election, the president consults representatives of the parliamentary factions and asks the member of the Knesset whom he considers most capable of forming a government to undertake that task. A durable government normally requires the support of a majority of the chamber, meaning 61 of its 120 members.
This system gives a remarkably broad range of communities, beliefs, and traditions a parliamentary voice. It also makes complicated coalition negotiations an almost permanent feature of Israeli politics. The party with the most seats does not automatically govern. Nor does the bloc that appears ahead in an exit poll necessarily have a viable path to power. The distinction between a numerical advantage and the ability to govern is among the simplest truths of Israeli politics, yet it is one of the first to be forgotten on election night.
Even the choice of election day carries a distinctively Israeli cultural association. The ordinary timetable prescribed by Israel’s Basic Law places Knesset elections on a Tuesday in the Hebrew month of Cheshvan, although early elections and exceptional circumstances have produced other dates. Tuesday also has a popular symbolic significance. In the biblical account of Creation, the words “and God saw that it was good” appear twice in connection with the third day. Hence the familiar Jewish expression “twice as good,” often associated with Tuesday. Unfortunately, not even that auspicious symbolism can produce an election result acceptable to everyone.
The political landscape is no less complex than the electoral system. On one side stands the camp supporting Netanyahu, led by Likud and joined by its ultra-Orthodox and religious nationalist partners, including Shas, United Torah Judaism, Otzma Yehudit, and Religious Zionism. This is a bloc with a committed electoral base, but it is far from ideologically uniform. Its constituent parties differ on security, economic policy, religion and state, the powers of public institutions and national priorities. On the other side are parties seeking to replace Netanyahu, including Gadi Eisenkot’s Yashar, Naftali Bennett’s B’Yachad, Yisrael Beytenu, and the Democrats. They are frequently grouped under the label “change bloc” and sometimes rather loosely described as the “left.” That description is misleading. Some of these parties have unmistakably right-wing positions. What unites them most clearly is their opposition to Netanyahu remaining in office.
It is important to acknowledge that many of the men and women in the change bloc are decent people with substantial public or security experience and a genuine desire to serve their country. Their professional records cannot simply be dismissed, and neither should the varied opinions of right-wing voters be reduced to a single caricature. Opposition parties have also proposed policies on security, the economy and governance. Nevertheless, a basic political weakness remains visible. When the strongest common message is “Anyone but Bibi”, constructing a positive, persuasive, and coherent vision for the day after becomes a far more difficult undertaking.
A promise of change is not, by itself, a programme of government. Dislike of an incumbent is not a national security doctrine. Israelis deserve to know the proposed economic priorities, how decisions concerning Iran and the wider region would be made, what policies would be pursued towards Hamas and Hezbollah, and how an incoming government would address the cost of living, social divisions, and the loss of confidence in public institutions. There is nothing inherently wrong with one party advocating a tougher security line, another concentrating on institutional reform, and a third emphasising social change. But without a clearly negotiated common course, the promise to replace the prime minister can begin to sound like a headline in search of substance.
At the centre of this entire debate stands Benjamin Netanyahu. His conduct is open to criticism, and on several matters serious criticism is warranted. Many Israelis, including some who previously voted for Likud, are exhausted by the constant political confrontation, disputes involving state institutions, divisive rhetoric, and the perception that personal considerations and political survival too often overshadow the national interest. The catastrophe of 7 October 2023 and the continuing argument over the responsibility of Israel’s leadership demand an honest reckoning. They cannot be erased by an accomplished speech or an electoral victory. Extensive experience does not confer immunity from scrutiny, and long tenure does not remove the obligation to answer difficult questions.
Yet another reality is equally difficult to ignore. No leader in the camp seeking Netanyahu’s replacement has accumulated a comparable number of years at the highest level of Israeli politics, with the same sustained exposure to complex diplomatic negotiations and the centres of international power. Some of his challengers have themselves served as prime minister or held some of the country’s most senior security positions. Their experience is substantial. Still, professional competence, integrity, and leadership potential are not identical to the accumulated experience of governing, negotiating, and making decisions at the summit of political power over decades. Those who want Netanyahu to leave office must address that difference rather than assume a campaign slogan will make it disappear.
Gadi Eisenkot, the leader of Yashar and a former chief of staff of the Israel Defense Forces, is, in my view, a man of integrity and decency who deserves respect. His family has paid an almost unbearable personal price in the war that followed the 7 October attacks. His son, Gal Meir Eisenkot, was killed in December 2023. His nephew, Maor Cohen Eisenkot, was killed the following day, and another nephew, Yogev Pazy, was killed in November 2024. Such loss commands profound respect, including from those who disagree with Eisenkot politically. Yet personal integrity, military experience, and courage, however admirable, do not in themselves provide the experience required to manage a government, build coalitions, or direct the foreign relations of a country confronting challenges of extraordinary complexity. This is a challenge Eisenkot and the wider change bloc must confront.
There is also a demographic dimension that should not be overlooked. Relatively high birth rates among ultra-Orthodox and religious communities, substantial sections of which have consistently supported parties associated with the right, may over time expand that camp’s electoral base. I regard this as a potentially important long-term demographic advantage for the right, one that its opponents would be unwise to ignore. It does not predetermine election outcomes: political loyalties evolve, generations change, and voting patterns are never immutable. But any movement aspiring to replace a government must think beyond opposition to a single leader and take account of the changing composition of Israeli society.
None of this means Netanyahu is irreplaceable. No leader in a democracy should be. The argument is more straightforward: a credible alternative must be developed, tested, and explained to the electorate. It must demonstrate the ability to lead, assemble a capable team, offer a coherent diplomatic and security outlook, and take decisions even when their costs are severe. Netanyahu remains the principal reference point for the entire political system, including for his opponents. That says something about his political longevity, but it also reflects the difficulty his rivals have faced in presenting a sufficiently clear alternative.
Then came the exit polls. On election night, Kan 11, Channel 12, and Channel 13 initially projected around 50 seats for the parties supporting Netanyahu and gave a modest advantage to the parties seeking to replace him. Channel 14, a broadcaster identified with the right, produced a strikingly different projection, allocating 60 seats to Netanyahu’s bloc. The i24NEWS exit poll also offered a more favourable picture for the right, projecting 55 seats. The gulf between these estimates was far too large to dismiss as a trivial statistical discrepancy. It raised questions about different sampling methods, turnout assumptions and the limits of the models being used. Those questions deserve careful examination once all the votes have been counted.
At 9.20 am Israeli time on 28 October, with 66.2 percent of ballot boxes counted, the official interim figures indicated 56 seats for Netanyahu’s bloc, 48 for the change bloc, and 16 for the Arab parties. This was a snapshot, not a final result. Votes cast in special envelopes, including those of soldiers, had yet to be fully incorporated, and the numbers could still change. Nevertheless, the interim picture was a reminder of how premature the initial celebrations had been. It would also be premature to declare Channel 14 the only broadcaster to have come close to the result. At that stage, the figures were numerically close to i24NEWS’s projection as well. Proper assessment of polling accuracy must await the final count and examine both individual parties and the overall balance between blocs.
The underlying problem is not merely statistical. It is what happens when political leaders and sections of the media construct an entire narrative around a figure that is not yet an election result. An exit poll is a useful instrument; it is not a certificate of victory. Leaders who proclaim that the people have delivered their verdict while hundreds of thousands of ballots have still to be reflected in the count risk undermining the confidence they claim to inspire. In an already divided society, even a genuine victory calls for restraint. An unconfirmed one calls for considerably more.
During this election I also encountered an intriguing account concerning some longstanding right-wing voters. The claim was that they deliberately placed a ballot bearing a different party’s name in the exit poll box from the one they had cast in the actual election, in an attempt to confuse pollsters and create false optimism in the opposing camp. I have no evidence establishing how widespread such behaviour may be, nor can it responsibly be offered as an explanation for the differences between the exit polls. If it happens at all, however, it is a useful reminder that the quality of an exit poll depends in part on the candour of those who choose to participate.
It is equally important to remember that exit poll figures are published only after polling stations close. They cannot therefore discourage people from voting in an election that has already ended. At most, misleading answers could influence the mood in the hours after the vote. A serious explanation of polling discrepancies must examine participation rates, sample composition, modelling errors and actual turnout, rather than relying on convenient stories after the event.
The political drama now moves from the television studio to the difficult arithmetic of coalition formation. On the figures available at the time of writing, Netanyahu’s camp has an advantage in seats over the change bloc, but remains short of the 61 needed for a parliamentary majority. Netanyahu also has the benefit of familiarity with the machinery of government and longstanding relationships with potential coalition partners. It is conceivable that negotiations could explore the inclusion of parties or individual political figures from the change camp in a broader coalition or national unity arrangement. Yet leading members of that camp have expressly ruled out serving in a government led by him. Crossing the dividing line between the blocs is therefore a possibility to be examined, not an outcome that can already be treated as likely or inevitable.
The change bloc faces obstacles of its own. On the emerging distribution of seats, securing a workable majority without some form of participation, outside support or abstention by at least some Arab parties appears exceedingly difficult. There are explicit objections to such an arrangement within the change bloc itself. There is also a significant dispute over Hamas. Eisenkot has stated that potential coalition partners must recognise Hamas as a terrorist organisation that should be destroyed. Accuracy matters here: Mansour Abbas and Ra’am condemned the attacks of 7 October and the killing of civilians, but Abbas has declined to make an explicit commitment to the destruction of Hamas. Condemning the massacres and agreeing on a political or military policy towards the organisation are not the same thing. An attempt to assemble a coalition while setting aside these differences, especially after commitments made to voters, could provoke significant public resistance and create serious tensions among partners from the outset. Even if a parliamentary formula can be found to swear in a government, that does not guarantee its ability to pass a budget, take difficult decisions or survive for long.
And what happens if neither camp can form a government? Another election is a lawful constitutional possibility, but it would come at a considerable price. It could mean another national holiday, another expensive campaign, further months of caretaker government, and more delays in decisions affecting defence, economic policy, and essential public services. An estimate published by the Israeli financial newspaper Calcalist ahead of this election placed the combined cost to the economy and the state budget at approximately NIS 3.7 billion. A further round of voting would not necessarily produce a materially different parliamentary picture. It could simply extend the political deadlock that voters hoped to end. The responsibility now resting on Israel’s political leaders is not to repeat declarations of victory or permanent boycotts. It is to determine, seriously and responsibly, which agreements can be reached without abandoning fundamental principles or leading the country into another prolonged political crisis.
Ultimately, electoral success cannot justify widening the rift within society. Israel cannot afford to turn every election into a contest over which citizens are good and which are bad. Right-wing, centrist, and left-wing voters, as well as Arab citizens, all belong to the society any government is obliged to serve. Political disagreement does not strip the opposing side of its legitimacy. The challenges of national security, economic resilience, effective administration, and a fairer sharing of civic responsibilities will remain after election day, regardless of who serves as prime minister.
The day after the election will test Israel’s leaders less by their ability to command an enthusiastic audience and more by their capacity to form a functioning government, make difficult decisions, and restore public trust. If Netanyahu secures the support needed to govern, he must recognise that an electoral mandate does not entitle him to ignore the other half of the country. If the camp seeking to replace him finds a path to power, it must demonstrate that the promise of change rests on a serious conception of the state rather than merely an alliance against one individual.
Until the last ballot is counted, everyone would do well to turn down the victory music. The numbers may yet shift, agreements may be reached and unravel, and the coalition picture remains unsettled. But one lesson is already clear: winning an election in a television studio can take a single minute. Governing Israel requires considerably more.