For international observers accustomed to Western political dynamics, the terms “left” and “right” can create significant confusion when applied to Israel’s political landscape. In North America and Europe, ideological camps are predominantly defined by debates surrounding tax policy, labor rights, welfare spending, civil liberties, and the overall role of government. While these socioeconomic questions certainly exist within Israel, they are not the primary forces that organize its political parties or mobilize its voters.
Instead, the defining fault lines in Israeli politics have long revolved around questions of land, security, the Palestinians, and the existential definition of the state. The central debate focuses on how to reconcile Israel's identity as a Jewish homeland with its democratic institutions, alongside the unresolved status of settlements in the occupied territories. Consequently, economic platforms often cross ideological boundaries, allowing a politician who champions heavy state spending to sit comfortably on the nationalist right, while social liberals may firmly align with hardline security agendas.
This dynamic marks a substantial shift from the early decades of the state, when economic and institutional models played a much larger role in dividing the electorate. In that era, the Israeli left was synonymous with Labor Zionism, which directed state-building through collectivist mechanisms such as the Histadrut labor federation, the kibbutz agricultural movement, and a planned economy. The right, drawing its ideological lineage from the Revisionist Zionist tradition and later coalescing around the Likud party, arose as a direct challenge to Labor’s hegemony, emphasizing historic Jewish claims to the land alongside more market-oriented policies.
The structural pivot toward territorial questions accelerated drastically following the 1967 war and the signing of the Oslo Accords in the 1990s. During this period, the left came to be defined by its advocacy for territorial compromise and negotiated separation from the Palestinians, arguing that dividing the land was essential to preserve an Israel that is both Jewish and democratic. In contrast, the right positioned itself in staunch opposition to Palestinian statehood, maintaining that territorial concessions and military withdrawals would inevitably endanger national security while aggressively backing the expansion of settlements.
The political viability of the traditional left suffered a severe blow during the second Intifada in the early 2000s. The widespread violence of that period convinced large swaths of the Jewish electorate that the Oslo framework had collapsed and that territorial concessions would not deliver peace. This skepticism hardened further following the unilateral Israeli withdrawal from the Gaza Strip in 2005, which was quickly followed by Hamas taking control of the enclave and ensuing rounds of military escalation.
The devastating attacks of October 7, 2023, did not originate this rightward trajectory, but they significantly accelerated a consensus that had been building for two decades. The trauma of the assault pushed national security, defense readiness, and the preservation of Jewish sovereignty to the absolute forefront of political discourse, marginalizing traditional peace-oriented rhetoric even further among the broader public.
Today, identifying as right-wing in Israel primarily denotes an uncompromising approach to Palestinian national claims and territorial sovereignty. This faction overwhelmingly rejects sovereign Palestinian statehood, offering at most severely restricted municipal self-governance. Furthermore, Israeli settlements across the occupied West Bank are no longer viewed by this camp as temporary bargaining chips for future diplomacy, but rather as permanent security assets and essential fulfillments of national and religious heritage.
Despite its traditional market rhetoric, the contemporary Israeli right does not conform to strict Western fiscal conservatism. Under Likud, right-wing coalitions routinely maintain substantial government spending, housing subsidies, public sector employment, and financial transfers to satisfy key political constituencies and coalition partners. The unifying pillar of the right remains its shared vision of sovereignty, state security, and Jewish identity, rather than an insistence on free-market doctrine.
Likud continues to serve as the dominant force of this nationalist bloc, maintaining a broad tent that appeals to secular nationalists, traditionalists, and religious voters alike. However, the broader right wing has increasingly been influenced by parties positioned further to its flank, such as Religious Zionism and Otzma Yehudit. For these factions, settlement activity is not merely a tactical security measure but a sacred religious duty, effectively ruling out any possibility of territorial compromise on ideological grounds.
These hardline factions have also spearheaded aggressive challenges against state institutions, including the Supreme Court, the attorney general, and senior echelons of the defense establishment. Proponents of these efforts contend that non-elected legal and security elites obstruct the will of the elected right-wing parliamentary majority. The contentious battle over judicial reform that gripped the country before October 7 stemmed directly from this friction, resurfacing periodically as part of broader disputes over state identity and institutional checks and balances.
Meanwhile, the Zionist center and the remnants of the Zionist left, including the Democrats party led by Yair Golan, operate in an increasingly constrained political space. These factions still champion democratic safeguards, defend the independence of the judiciary and civil service, and view permanent military rule over Palestinians as a fundamental danger to the state. Prominent figures from this sphere, such as former military chiefs Benny Gantz and Gadi Eisenkot, advocate for cautious diplomatic separation rather than permanent annexation.
Yet even among centrist and center-left leaders, the language of the traditional peace camp has largely vanished, replaced by an emphasis on strong military defense and security pragmatism. Across modern Israeli politics, the divide between the right and the center is rarely about whether military power should be deployed. Rather, the essential disagreement lies in the ultimate objective of that military strength, the degree to which democratic oversight must be preserved, and whether a viable political resolution with the Palestinians should remain an open possibility for future generations.
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