Israel's Election: Between Hope and Despair

2 days ago

5 min read

Nirit Eylon- Hatikvah President

On Saturday night, I stood among 100,000 people in Hostages Square in Tel Aviv. We had come together with one clear demand: a genuine, independent State Commission of Inquiry into October 7. An inquiry that will provide answers, establish accountability and begin restoring trust in Israel's institutions.

Families who had lost everything stood on stage, asking for something so fundamental to any democracy: the truth.

One moment will stay with me forever. Rabbi Elhanan Danino, whose son Ori was murdered in Hamas captivity, spoke about the weekly Torah portion, Lech Lecha. And 100,000 people responded together, chanting "Lech, Lech, Lech, Lech" - go, go, go, go.

I looked around at the enormous crowd, at friends and fellow activists who had come from around the world, people who have spent years fighting for the hostages and for Israel's future.

For the first time in a long time, I felt something powerful: hope.

Three days later, that hope followed me to the ballot box.

I had flown from Melbourne specifically to vote, alongside a large group of Israelis who had made the same journey.

I stood in line for over an hour. When I finally entered the polling room, one of the election officials noticed my Tisat Chiluf (Flight for Change) T-shirt.

"You're one of those people we should salute," she told me.

I laughed and said there was no need to salute me, but yes, I had come from Melbourne, and many others had travelled with me.

The reaction was emotional. Everyone in the room smiled, thanked me and seemed genuinely moved. I walked out with tears in my eyes.

More than 100,000 Israelis living abroad had travelled home to vote. Across the country, civil society organisations, volunteers and activists had invested extraordinary energy in this election. Voter turnout reportedly reached 77.7%, the highest since 1988.

After years of war, grief, protests and political division, people were determined to make their voices heard.

Then came election night.

The first exit polls showed Netanyahu's bloc with around 50 seats and the parties opposing him, including the Arab parties, with approximately 70.

I went to sleep believing that change was finally coming.

By morning, everything felt different.

Netanyahu's bloc had climbed to 57 seats. The optimism of the previous evening had turned into disbelief, anxiety and a profound sense of disappointment.

And I could feel it everywhere. In conversations with friends, in messages, in the silence of people who had given everything they could to this election.

But as counting continued, the numbers shifted again. By Wednesday evening, Netanyahu's bloc stood at 53 seats, Eisenkot's bloc at 48, and the Arab parties at 19, with the double-envelope votes still outstanding.

And here is what troubles me most: the story being told does not fully reflect what happened.

Television coverage has emphasised Netanyahu's achievement in securing 26 seats for Likud, despite the party losing seats compared with the previous election. But the much bigger story is being overlooked: Netanyahu's coalition has fallen from 64 seats in the previous election to just 53 now. That is a loss of 11 seats, leaving him eight seats short of the 61 required to form a government.

At the same time, the Arab parties are repeatedly presented as a separate bloc, making Eisenkot's 48 seats appear smaller than Netanyahu's 53. Yet together, the parties outside Netanyahu's bloc hold 67 seats.

The distinction matters. Netanyahu's bloc has lost its parliamentary majority, but the way the results are presented risks leaving the public with a very different impression. And for people who have invested so much hope and energy in this election, that framing only deepens the sense of disappointment and despair.

The disappointment among the Change bloc is real. Many had hoped for a much larger majority, one that would allow a new government to be formed without relying on Arab parties. Instead, they face a political reality that is far more complicated than they had imagined.

And that disappointment is turning into something I find deeply worrying: despair.

After years of demonstrations, endless volunteering, heartbreak and exhaustion, after people travelled from every corner of the world to vote, there is a growing fear that even all of this was not enough.

I hear people questioning whether they can continue fighting, whether Israel can change, whether there is still a future here for their children.

This is what frightens me most. Not just the political uncertainty, but the possibility that people will stop believing they can make a difference.

And yet, there is another extraordinary story in these election results.

Arab citizens of Israel came out to vote in unprecedented numbers, with their parties projected to win 19 seats.

For me, this is one of the most significant developments of the election.

Arab citizens are approximately 20% of Israel's population. They are part of every aspect of Israeli life, our hospitals, universities, businesses and communities. Yet their participation in government remains deeply contested.

Without some form of cooperation with Arab representatives, Eisenkot's bloc cannot reach a parliamentary majority.

I understand why this is difficult for some voters and political leaders. There are real ideological differences, and Oct 7th has built fear and mistrust. But I also believe this election presents an opportunity to reconsider what genuine equality and shared citizenship mean in a Jewish and democratic state.

For Hatikvah, with our commitment to pluralism and the principles of Israel's Declaration of Independence, that conversation matters enormously.

So where do we go from here?

I keep thinking about the contrast between Saturday night, when 100,000 people stood together demanding accountability, and the despair I feel around me today.

I believe this is a moment when political leadership matters more than ever.

Eisenkot, Bennett, Lieberman, Lapid and Golan have a responsibility to speak clearly to the public, explain what the results mean, acknowledge the challenges and set out a credible path forward.

There is no straightforward coalition solution. But there is also no reason to treat the current uncertainty as the end of the democratic struggle.

For me, any future government must be built on three fundamental commitments: reversing the judicial overhaul, establishing equal responsibility for military or civilian national service, and creating a genuine State Commission of Inquiry into October 7.

These are not simply political bargaining chips. They are essential to rebuilding trust in Israel's institutions and its future.

I don't know what government will emerge from these results. Perhaps there will be difficult negotiations, uncomfortable compromises or even another election.

But I cannot accept that the extraordinary energy, commitment and love for this country that I witnessed over the past few days should end in resignation.

I think about the people in Hostages Square. About the election official who thanked me for coming home. About the volunteers who have barely slept for weeks, and the thousands of Israelis who travelled across the world because they still believe their voices matter.

We cannot allow their hope to turn into surrender.

Israel is at a crossroads. Its future will depend not only on the decisions made by politicians, but also on whether its citizens continue to believe that they have a role in shaping it.

I came from Melbourne to vote because I believe they do.

And despite everything that has happened over these extraordinary few days, I still do.