The Bennett–Lapid Alliance and the Attempt to Reshape the Camp

Elections in Israel are not an event that begins on polling day, but rather a moment when preceding transformations intensify. In this sense, it can be said that the 2026 elections effectively began on April 27, with the announcement of the alliance between Naftali Bennett and Yair Lapid. This alliance was not a result of natural convergence, but rather a product of political pressure imposed by the balance of power within the camp itself. In Israeli discourse, this alliance is presented as a step to rebuild the “change camp” that ended Benjamin Netanyahu’s rule in 2021. But a deeper reading reveals that what is happening is not so much a change as it is a reorganization within the same framework. The competition is not between two contradictory projects, but within a single Zionist vision with multiple management styles. Within this framework, the slogans raised by the right, from “Greater Israel” to “Complete Israel,” are distributed not as real differences but as different expressions of the same ideological structure. Therefore, the gap between the Likud and its opponents appears smaller than what election battles suggest. This explains the absence of a fundamental disagreement regarding the Palestinians. Whether the discourse is more confrontational or more pragmatic, the constants remain the same: expanding settlements, consolidating security control, and managing the conflict instead of resolving it. Even in the most intense moments, there is no real discussion about ending the occupation, but rather about how to manage it with the least political cost. In this context, the Bennett–Lapid alliance does not seem to be an exception to the rule as much as it is an embodiment of it. Bennett, who comes from the religious Zionist current, and who previously served as the Director-General of the Yesha Council (Council of West Bank Settlements) and enjoys support within settlement circles, has never hidden his rejection of the establishment of a Palestinian state, nor his call for the annexation of large parts of the West Bank. This ideological dimension does not contradict his partnership with Lapid, who in the 2013 elections chose to launch his political program from a college in the Ariel settlement, but rather reflects an intersection in the essence of the political vision despite the difference in rhetoric. Ultimately, this alliance is not based on sharp contradictions as much as it is based on managing internal differences, while keeping the Palestinian issue outside of fundamental discussion, or freezing it within the limits of minimal divergence. Even the 2021 experience, which is being invoked today as a model, did not constitute a real exception. It is true that it witnessed the notable precedent of Mansour Abbas joining, but this partnership remained conditional and temporary. Today, Bennett is keen to send a contrary message, emphasizing that he will not rely on Arab parties in any future coalition. In this sense, the alliance does not reproduce the “change” experience, but rather readjusts it within more restrictive limits. What drove the two parties to this alliance was not vision, but necessity. Opinion polls showed the erosion of Lapid’s position, against the rise of Likud, and the emergence of Gadi Eizenkot as a potential player within the camp. At this point, the alliance was no longer an option, but a tool to prevent further decline. But this step does not mean unifying the camp as much as it reveals its fragility. In addition to this alliance, Avigdor Lieberman is moving as an independent force targeting the same base, especially the secular right. In the background, attempts are emerging to recycle figures who have left the Likud fold, such as Moshe Kahlon and Gilad Erdan, within a new right-wing framework. This movement does not reflect genuine pluralism, but rather competition within the same political space. Instead of expanding the party map, it is being divided among players seeking to redistribute the same votes. This is what makes the impact of the Bennett–Lapid alliance limited: it may rearrange the camp, but it does not change its rules. War, siege, and settlement have become part of the “new normal” that no longer needs justification. Eizenkot’s decision remains a crucial factor in determining the direction of the battle. His joining could give the alliance broader security cover, while his remaining outside could deepen the fragmentation. But whatever his decision, it will not change the nature of the scene as much as it will redistribute its centers. Ultimately, the real battle in the 2026 elections is not between right and left, but over the “spirit of the right” and who has the legitimacy to represent it. While the Bennett–Lapid alliance tries to present a hybrid formula for governance, other right-wing figures emerge to compete for the same electoral base. This competition may give the alliance temporary momentum, but it reveals its fundamental dilemma. In Israel today, no one leaves the right; it is only redefined. How can Bennett maintain his right-wing image among settlers while moving in Lapid’s orbit? And how can a camp claiming change do so without affecting the core of the conflict?