A Government of Betrayal Is Not Legitimate

I have many reservations about the way the protest is being conducted. There are many things being done within its framework that I believe weaken it and are morally problematic. Some of them will be detailed later. Nevertheless, I have no doubt that I am part of it and part of any resistance movement against the treacherous reign of terror. Defeating them is a necessary—though not sufficient—condition for any hope for the future.

The messages are too confused. The central message that all other messages should currently align with is: “A government of betrayal is illegitimate,” and its corollary: it must be resisted on every level. There is, for example, a contradiction between calling out “He who abandoned must restore”—an appeal to the nonexistent conscience of the head of the snake, which implicitly acknowledges his authority—and the claim that this is a government of betrayal that has no legitimacy.

There isn’t a week that goes by without me attending at least one protest for the return of the hostages—because they should be here. Because my heart bursts with terror when I imagine them there. Because hostages who returned said that seeing the large demonstrations gave them hope. Because, de facto, the return of the hostages is tied to a ceasefire that would stop Israel’s aggression in Gaza. Because this is the resistance movement that has gained the most traction here.

But the direction needs to change. If any of us still had doubts about the loyalties of this government, “Qatargate” has put an exclamation mark on them. The violation of the ceasefire agreement this week, which led former hostages—who know what it’s like there—to post farewell messages to their brothers still left behind, put an exclamation mark on the question of the government’s willingness to make a deal. Images of hostages returning and recounting how government actions harmed them in captivity put an exclamation mark on the leadership’s lack of desire. The monsters in power have already cashed in on the “hostage return” narrative.

The message of the protest for the return of the hostages must always be connected to the central message: “The reign of terror is killing the hostages."

When the main calls in the protest against the legitimacy of the government are pleas to the government, we are in enormous trouble.

The same goes for the calls to end the war, although this is a very different case. While the protest for the return of the hostages is perhaps the leading force in the general opposition to the government today, opposition to the war, and specifically to Israeli aggression in Gaza and the territories, is at the extreme margins of the protest. This is a shocking situation. Horrifying. The reign of terror removed its masks long ago. It is clear that its ambitions are ethnic cleansing and settlement in Gaza, and that piles of bodies of Gazans, including babies and children, pave the way for it. This has nothing to do with security. That is, it has the opposite effect. That is, at this time, it is only connected to the wet fantasy of the Third Temple.

And yet, even within the protest, it is frightening to say a word about the enormous war crimes Israel is committing in Gaza. Even the calls from the more left-wing side are very cautious. It’s terrifying. The police, who are highly sensitive to such calls and signs, are frightening, as are the reactions from within—those who somehow manage to reconcile a call for democracy while continuing the massacre of innocents carried out by a government that collaborates with the enemy.

This is a total eclipse of reason. The calls to end the war and the recognition that Israel is committing war crimes must be part of the protest—loud and clear. And even here, at this moment, through the lens of the government’s illegitimacy.

The entirely justified call by the protest leaders to shut down the economy, to engage in civil disobedience, must be accompanied by the same level of determination in calling for refusal to serve in the war of the messianists. If from the protest stages people say that this is an illegitimate government, how can they remain silent about the option of refusal, effectively legitimizing the practice of killing and dying for it? This is an illogical, incoherent narrative. In the Defense Forces, one must serve and engage in activities that promote defense. Not in actions that undermine security and constitute crimes of staggering proportions. The messianists are carrying out pogroms, setting the West Bank on fire with the backing of soldiers. Will this increase security? Come on. Let’s remember: those holding the reins are helping fund the enemy. Let’s remember again: those holding the reins are helping fund the enemy. Again. And again.

Except for psychopaths, everyone has a moral boundary. Every reservist receiving a draft order should close their eyes and ask themselves: What is my limit? What has to happen for me to say No? Even those who argue the genocidal claim that there are no innocent people in Gaza—does their limit not exist before they leave their wife and children to serve those who sustain Hamas?

Overthrowing the government is a necessary but insufficient condition. The protest against the mechanisms of occupation and for a political solution must continue and intensify even when a new government is formed. Right now, its face must be that of focusing the struggle on this specific government. A call to refuse to serve it. Because it is Kahanist, and its goals are Kahanist. Does this weaken the overall moral call to end the occupation? Theoretically, maybe. In practice—if this call becomes central to the protest, its impact on future governments will be enormous. A new government that prides itself on democracy will find it much harder to repeat the actions of previous governments once these actions have finally been labeled and recognized (a recognition that has been sorely lacking until now) as nothing less than “Kahanist.” So many new ideas and insights are shaping public consciousness from within the protest field. This is, among other things, an opportunity that must not be missed.

Some people cannot participate in the protest. The wounded in hospitals cannot go out to demonstrate. Single mothers of young children cannot go out to demonstrate. And many more. The following words are not for those who truly cannot. But for those whose hearts are with the struggle, who can, even a little, and do nothing—what is going through your mind? What the hell is going through your mind? That you are “not the protest type”? The two elderly women, over 80 years old, who explained to me yesterday that the smell of skunk water came from them—are they more of the “protest type” than you? Their grandchildren, still half-dazed from the trip of a Purim party?

At the same hours when tens of thousands arrived in stormy, rain-soaked Jerusalem for days on end, physically blocking fascism, a Tel Aviv book launch was taking place. Also, an intimate guitar performance in some Jerusalem pub. They excitedly invited me to these events in saccharine social media posts. Tell me, are you trying to sabotage the protest? Is Ben Gvir paying you? What’s going on with you? Because of you, these elderly women are getting sprayed with skunk water. It’s your fault. This is a numbers game. If you show up, they won’t get sprayed.

You invest so much in your children. You’re good parents. But aren’t you fighting for their future? Are you abandoning them to a life ruled by religious extremists? That is—if they even get to live. Which is far from certain. Maybe they’ll spend a significant portion of their lives in prison. your children. Let’s say because they loved someone the regime did not approve of.

With trepidation and reverence, I tell my workplace that I’m taking sudden leave because my conscience tells me this is what I must do right now. I explain that it’s also for the future of the workplace itself, which will likely cease to exist in the theocracy that’s about to take hold any moment now. They accept it. But only a few say, “Why are you even explaining? Of course. We’re all with you out there in the streets. This is the last moment.” How is it that I have to be apologetic? How lonely, abandoned, and strange this feels.

And the portrayal of avoidance as ideological pragmatism. “Protests don’t help.” Listen, no protester in history ever truly believed they would step into the street, and the power-hungry dictator would say, “Oh. Noli and Shabi went out to protest, so I will step down.” The processes are always more indirect. But they are real. And we have more than enough evidence that public pressure can at least slow down fascist processes. So enough with this. At this critical moment in history—really, just enough already.

This week, people are heading back to Jerusalem. Imagine you’re Supreme Court justices, and no matter what you think of them, imagine you have to decide whether the blitz of firings against the investigators of the betrayal case and the gatekeepers of democracy is legal or not. Imagine you are making this decision in a situation where the entire nation is attending book launches and watching reality TV, versus a situation where a million people are out in the streets shouting—about the abandonment of hostages, about war crimes, about the looting of public funds, about the collapse of personal security—and their cries merge into a single voice: “Traitor government! Traitor government! Traitor government!"

If, in your imagination, you sense even the faintest difference in how that would feel—then at least for this week, don’t normalize it. Later, there will be no protesting anymore. Not even when they take your children. Not even when they imprison your colleagues. Not even when that pub with the intimate performances is turned into a synagogue. For heaven’s sake.