In January 2023 hundreds of thousand Israelis took to the streets in an unprecedented wave of demonstrations against the government’s reform plan depicted as a threat to democracy. The government, a coalition between the Likud, Ultra-Orthodox and the extreme religious-right parties, one hitherto excluded from coalitions, introduced a legislation package that would, according to its opponents, undermine Israel’s democratic institutions, in particular the Supreme Court, and open the way for authoritarianism. The protestors, who took to the streets in the name of liberal democracy, compared the developments in Israel to those in Hungary and Poland, argued that the government plan would not only undermine Israel’s [already limited] democracy but also threaten civil rights, freedom and gender equality. Not only the threat of authoritarianism but also the potential transformation into a theocracy evoked the protests. Coalition agreements and proposed laws, advocated by the religious parties, would, once legislated, it was argued, undermine secular, LGBTQ+, and women’s rights. The protest involved not only large-scale demonstrations for months, but also roadblocks, economic boycotts, appeals to international leaders and media, and even declarations of army reservists they would not report to duty if the proposed legislation would be completed as planned.

Right-wing populism, that in its Israeli version combines populist tropes with religion and nationalism, combined with other radical right parties to form a tight and determined coalition set to transform Israel’s political system into what was described by the government’s opposition as an authoritarian (and theocratic) threat. Notwithstanding the governments’ intentions we argue, using the Israeli case study, that the “slide” from right-wing populism to authoritarianism is not inevitable. First, right-wing populism positions itself as anti-liberal rather than anti-democratic. Consequently, second, it has to contend with a potential opposition, a large one undermining its claim to speak “for the people.” And third, when anti-liberal stance relies also on religious discourse it not only evokes liberal opposition but also divisions among populists regarding religious authority. These three reasons make authoritarianism a possibility but not an obligatory telos.

It is impossible to predict whether authoritarianism was curbed, even more so in light of the war in Gaza after Hamas attack in October 2023. Rather, our purpose is more modest, to highlight the inconsistencies within right-wing populism that enable opposition and potentially prevent authoritarianism based on the experience from Israel. Accordingly, we ask, first, looking beyond instrumental benefits, what explains the formation of a coalition between different expressions of radical right and religious fundamentalism? Second, how the anti-liberal and anti-democratic trends and commitment to religious ideas and identities combine and contrast in the government’s plan? And third, how have the anti-liberal and anti-democratic threat of Israeli right-wing populism enabled the opposition?

Right-Wing Populism

Populism is described as an ideology that loosely combines several recurring topics, anti-elitism and anti-intellectualism, virtue assigned to “people” depicted as pure, democracy regarded as the expression of popular sovereignty and, consequently, rejection of liberal democracy (Taggart, 2000; Mudde, 2007). Pappas (2019) and Müller (2017) consider populism the antithesis of liberal democracy as populists’ understanding of democracy as the expression of the will of a homogeneous people is opposed to the liberal democratic emphasis on pluralism, individual and minority rights and separation of powers, and fear from the tyranny of majority. Populism, according to some scholars (Müller, 2017, Norris and Inglehart 2019) can lead to authoritarianism and autocratization.

Authoritarianism is defined as a system with limited pluralism, suppression of anti-regime activities and extension of the power of the executive (Linz, 1964). It is a system whose practices are aimed to sabotage accountability to people (‘the forum’) over whom the authoritarian political actor exerts control (Glasius, 2018). Autocratization can be understood as “a process of regime change … that makes the exercise of political power more arbitrary and repressive and that restricts the space for public contestation and political participation in the process of government selection,” (Casssani & Tomini 2018). Since authoritarianism and autocracy are defined as opposition to liberal democracy’s main characteristics (pluralism, accountability, separation of powers and checks and balances), considering populism as anti-liberalism makes it almost synonymous with authoritarianism and autocracy. This view, however, ignores the contribution of populist movements to the expansion of democracy’s boundaries (for example, the constitutional reform in Argentina by Peronism that provided women with voting rights).[1]

Thus, we propose a more complex conceptualization of populism. We combine elements of Mudde’s ideational definition (Mudde, 2007), Jansen’s view of populism as a form of mobilization (Jansen, 2011), and Laclau’s contributions on populism as built on the construction of a chain of equivalences and the role of hegemony (Laclau, 2005).  Thus, we propose to understand populism as social movements that mobilize supporters by building chains of equivalences based on the specific sociology of each political community, opposes the people as against the elites, in order to promote alternative hegemonic projects (and consolidate them when in power). The term ‘people’ has several meanings, it could main the nation, about the common people (the plebs) set against the elites, and also the Volk, an ethno-cultural unified entity (Hermet, 2001: 52). The ways in which those meanings are formed and used allow to distinguish between inclusive and exclusionary populism. The former stresses the people as the plebs and becomes an instrument for the inclusion of previously excluded social groups, thus broadening the boundaries of belonging. The latter becomes an instrument for the exclusion of certain social groups (minorities, immigrants), thus threatening pluralism. Differently from Mudde we consider populism as a set of social movements and not as an ideology, differently from Laclau, we do consider that the characteristics of the different social groups frame which chains of equivalences are possible or probable in a specific political community, and differently from Jansen, we consider that populist mobilization can be exclusionary, and not only inclusionary.

Currently, when liberal democracy is still perceived to hold a hegemonic status, populism is usually anti-liberal. Opposing the hegemonic status of liberal democracy, and the embedded fear of the masses that characterizes liberal thought, institutions and practices, populism promotes an illiberal conceptualization of democracy that aims to accomplish the democratic promise of self-government (Canovan, 1999). For the populist view the anti-majoritarianism that characterizes the liberal fear of the “tyranny of the majority” is in fact no more than the way in which the elites protect their power from the people’s will and true interests.

Though illiberal, populism is not necessarily anti-democratic as its opponents often suggest. Rather, inclusionary populism is a demand for participation of excluded groups that can broaden democratic boundaries. Exclusionary populism, conversely, embodies more clearly the authoritarian and autocratic dangers represented by the populist understanding of democracy. It separates the people (in-group) perceived as an ethnically or culturally homogeneous group from those excluded (the out-group) and depicts those who support inclusion as disloyal. This populist tendency to consider the people as homogeneous and the synecdoche that transforms the part (supporters of the populist movement) into the whole (the people), open the way for an authoritarian drift. However, at the same time, and central to our argument here, the populist’ claim to legitimacy based on representing “the people” underscores homogeneity and consensus (of the in-group) and can be made void when challenged by contradictions and a significant opposition from “within” that makes the synecdoche null.

Religion can be one example that can both unite “the people” and underscore tensions and contradictions. Religion remained a powerful force across the world, even in countries and societies where processes of secularization seemed to undermine it. Recent accounts of secularization argue the concept must be refined and studied according to its different analytical distinctions and in different parts of the world (Dobbleare, 1999; Norris & Inglehart, 2004). New accounts separate analytically between the decline of religion in general and that of religious authority and between the institutional aspect and the individual religious beliefs and practices and suggest that secularization is largely about the decline of religious authority (Chaves, 1994). Yet, religion can still maintain power over private and public life, by means of institutions, social movements or political parties (Haynes, 2016). More importantly, religion’s influence over national identity, sentiments and boundaries often demonstrates the limits of secularization.

The persistence of religion can be attributed, among other things, to its connection to nationalism. While the two can be in competition over authority and loyalty religion can also be understood as contributing to the origins and development of nationalism (Brubaker, 2012). The “intertwining” between them involves the coincidence of religious and national boundaries. Accordingly, the nation can be imagined as composed of all and only those who belong to a particular religion. Alternatively, religion does not define the boundaries of the nation, but supplies “myths, metaphors and symbols that are central to the discursive or iconic representation of the nation” (Brubaker, 2012). Thus, ideas of “chosen people” and religious motifs and symbols, can provide the ‘basic cultural and ideological building blocks for nationalists’ (Smith, 2003: 254–55). Finally, nationalism and religious belief have much in common in their conception of purity, boundaries, and order. The affinity can underscore competition for authority between religion and the state but also provide a common ground of understanding and a mutual interest in protecting boundaries and punishing deviant or disloyal behavior (Ben-Porat, 2013).

Religion, therefore, can play a significant role for populism, providing means to define the boundaries of belonging, and providing ideological content (Cohen & Arato, 2018). Religious themes are frequently employed, even by non-religious leaders, to define boundaries and to enhance us-them differentiations. Religion is useful to “fill” the empty signifier people, providing a positive ground for a common identity, not limited to be anti-elite or anti-immigrants (Cohen & Arato, 2018: 102). Accordingly, religion offers a “convincing moral claim to trigger the self-righteous indignation necessary to construct, define and mobilize the authentic ‘good’ people against the alien other” (Ibid). Religion can also be used instrumentally, without true religious content, as a proxy for ethnic identities (Gans, 1994). However, ethnic identities can re-activate latent religious contents linked to the ethnic identity. Thus, the popular appeal of religious motives used by populist leaders is more than the “manipulation of the masses.”

Religion, however, can also be divisive when populist leaders, parties and followers have different perceptions of religion and different commitments toward religious laws and authority. This division is especially important when the debate on religion involves questions of policy, rights and personal freedoms. For some, religion serves as an instrument to define the boundaries that separate the in-group from others. Their commitment to religion is limited and they can remain tolerant or liberal within the in-group. For others, religion carries greater significance and, accordingly, they demand to apply its rules over society and state. Thus, populists can be united regarding the maintenance of religiously demarcated boundaries but divided over questions, within the in-group, on LGBTQ rights, women equality, commitment to family values and religious authority over public life. Once again, if religion-driven policies are divisive, they undermine the populists’ claims to represent “the people.

 From all the above, we can draw five preliminary arguments to be discussed in the Israeli case below. First, since the core populist themes can be considered as a “thin” ideology, populism can forge and accommodate partnerships with various ideologies based upon shared understandings of “people,” “others,” and “elites.” Second, national and religious identities provide populists with the materials to delineate boundaries. Third, these alignments are based on an exclusionary understanding of democracy that holds the rights of the in-group above others, popular vote over minority and individual rights, and elected representatives over institutions that limit their powers. The last two points are argued not against democracy, but against the liberal limitations on democracy understood as the practice of a sovereign people, even though they carry with them the dangers of slipping into authoritarianism. But fourth, the threat to liberal rights can evoke an opposition that undermines populists’ claim for representing the will of the people. And fifth, while religion can help populists in delineating boundaries and seemingly corresponds with illiberal attributes, it can also motivate opposition, and create divides within, over questions of religious authority and individual rights.

Israel: Religion, Nation and Democracy

Israel has been struggling since its inception to balance its dual commitments for a “Jewish and Democratic State.” Essentially, this struggle involves questions about the role of religion in public life, inclusion/exclusion of minorities and subordinate social groups and the boundaries of citizenship. Israel’s regime has been described as a “non-liberal democracy,” a type of regime where “principles of equality and harmony are predominant among those who belong to a certain group and aspire to its common goals” and “participation is more a privilege than a right and is therefore reserved for those who act in the collective interest” (Ben-Dor et al., 2003). The non-liberal democracy translates into a hierarchical citizenship regime with differential measures of inclusion and distribution, negatively effecting Israeli Palestinians and other non-Jewish minorities, such as migrant workers (Shafir & Peled, 2002; Yiftachel, 2006). Also, Israel’s democracy is often measured within the pre-1967 borders, without accounting for its control of Palestinians in the occupied territories, deprived of civic and political rights (Ariely, 2023).

The question whether Israel should be regarded as an ethnic democracy (Smooha, 1997) or an “ethnocracy” (Yiftachel, 2006) is beyond the scope of this paper. The “non-liberal” regime, however, is not a static entity. Rather, different groups since the 1990’s have struggled to broaden the boundaries of democracy and liberalize the regime, with different levels of success. Arab citizens, to take one example, were able as individuals to take advantage of new opportunities and mobilize economically and socially.

Religious authority is part of Israel’s non-liberal characteristics and as a result also a source of contention. The Zionist movement established itself as a secular national movement led by Jews who adopted modern ideas of nationalism and rebelled against the dominance of religious orthodoxy. Judaism, a religion, was to be replaced by Jewishness, a modern, cultural identity. Secular Zionism included a historical sense of belonging to the Jewish people, translated to a proactive nationalist approach of territorial sovereignty. Religion, however, continued to play an important role for the nationalist movement, delineating its boundaries, providing it with symbols and underscoring territorial claims. It was essential for the definition of “people” and its boundaries (Ben-Porat & Filc, 2020). As they themselves would acknowledge, secular Zionists were not able to overcome this ambivalence toward religion (Ben-Porat, 2013) underscoring political arrangements (see also: Raz-Krakotzkin, 2000; Ben-Porat, 2000).

Informal and formal agreements that became known as the “status quo” did not resolve all issues of conflict but created some flexible guidelines that acted as a starting point for negotiations and enabled pragmatic solutions (Cohen & Susser, 2000: 19). The agreements, among other things, provided religious orthodoxy with authority over marriage and divorce and instituted different regulations and religious restrictions over public life—for example, limiting commerce on the Sabbath, the day of rest—and deferred ultra-Orthodox men (and all religious women) from military service (Ben-Porat, 2013). The stability of the status quo in the first three decades could also be attributed to the support of the majority of nonreligious Israelis that continued to relate to codes, values, symbols, and a collective memory that could hardly be separated from Jewish religion (Kimmerling, 2004: 354). The gap between religious groups and a large proportion of the secular population was narrowed not only by common symbols but also by the widespread loyalty to the idea of a “Jewish state” and the instrumentality of religion for maintaining boundaries. Thus, national sentiments, a general desire to avoid conflict that would divide Jewish society, and the concrete political interests of political parties de-politicized religion.

Secularization accelerated in the 1980’s with economic and political changes that turned Israel into a consumerist society and challenged the status quo. Consumption and new leisure patterns were often incompatible with the religious restrictions of the status quo. In addition, the large immigration from the former Soviet Union between 1989 and 2000, though not homogeneous, was largely secular. Immigrants, in many cases, were entitled to citizenship based on Jewish ancestry but were not recognized as Jewish by the religious establishment. Thus, economic and demographic changes contributed to the erosion of religious authority, but only to a limited extent (Ben-Porat, 2012). Secularization was manifested in everyday life through individual choices and behaviors. This included consumption as well as life choices and identities regarding marriage and sexual orientation. Secularization did not transform the “nonliberal” character of Israeli democracy and its principal aspects: the priority of security over democratic values, the aspiration for consensus, and the exclusion of minorities (Ben-Porat & Feniger, 2009; Ben-Dor et al., 2003). Secularization, however, provided Jewish Israelis with more consumer choices, religious freedom, gender equality, and LGBTQ rights—freedoms that many Jewish Israelis embraced without identifying with liberal ideologies.

Alongside, and in counter to secularization, religion not only remained significant but also expanded in different paths. Ultra-Orthodox parties, that in early years of statehood rejected Zionism and held an instrumental attitude towards the state, gained power and demanded to maintain or expand religious authority. The rise of Shas, an ultra-Orthodox party representing Sephardic Jews (originating from Muslim countries), added another force to ultra-Orthodoxy. Another significant force was religious Zionism which, following the war of 1967, combined religion, politics, and territorial expansion, leading the settlement project in the territories captured in the war. Finally, many Jewish Israelis maintain a traditional identity, partaking in some aspects of secularization (e.g., shopping on the Sabbath), suspicious of others, and largely sympathetic to religion and religious institutions.

Religiosity and secularism in Israel overlap with other identities. Politically, religious and traditional Jews tend to hold more hawkish views about the Israeli- Palestinian conflict than secular Jews. Ethnically, most Israeli Jews who define themselves “secular” are descendants of immigrants from Europe (Ashkenazim) and described as “elites” while the descendants of Jews from Muslim countries (Mizrahim) tend to describe themselves as traditional or religious. Finally, secularism is more popular among the upper and upper-middle classes. These schisms have also played out in the latest clash, which we elaborate upon in the rest of this paper. On one side, populist politics, combining religion and nationalism, were determined to offset what they perceived as the liberalization of state and society. On the other side were non-religious (and some religious liberal) Israelis who perceived themselves as defending Israel’s liberal democracy.

The Rise of Israeli Populism

Two parties of the 2022 governing coalition, the Likud and Shas, can be described as populist (in different ways) and the backbone of Israel’s rising populism. The Likud, Israel’s dominant political party since the 1970’s adopted under Menahem Begin’s leadership an inclusionary populist approach since the 1950s (Filc, 2006). In line with populist parties in general, Likud conceived politics as the opposition between the virtuous people and the elites and held an organic vision of the (Jewish) people as homogeneous (based on the coalescence between nation and religion). Anti-elitism was against the institutions on which the Labor movement based its hegemony in pre and early statehood, mainly the Histadrut (the General Trade Union) and the kibbutz movement, both central to the marginalization of Mizrahim (Jews that immigrated from Arab countries). These immigrants often relegated to the periphery, and who suffered different forms of discrimination, found a political home in the Likud. The idea of Jewishness as a family was used to symbolically include Mizrahim into the common “we,” and through their participation and support for Likud, Mizrahim became a collective subject (Filc, 2006). The Likud did not adopt a similar stance towards Arab citizens, but when in power (since 1977) did not increase their exclusion.

Populism took a different turn in recent years, as the Likud under Benjamin Netanyahu, transformed into a right-wing, anti-liberal party adopting an exclusionary version of populism. Netanyahu was elected as Likud’s chairperson following the party’s defeat in the 1992 elections. Initially, he led the transformation of the party into a neo-conservative one, akin to developments in the United States. Under his leadership the party adopted two main fundamentals of neo-conservative ideology: the idea that foreign policy must be solely built on power (military, economic and political), and radical economic neoliberalism. The disastrous results in the 2006 elections, the worst for Herut/Likud since the early 1950s, brought Netanyahu to abandon neo-conservatism and lead the transformation of the Likud into an exclusionary populist party, a trend that became essentially evident since arriving to power in 2009 (Ben Porat, 2005; Ben Porat & Yuval, 2007, Avigur-Eshel & Filc, 2021). The transition was completed, as according to the Global Party Survey the Likud party received the maximum score both for populism and populist values (Norris, 2020). Populism, on one axis, separated Jews from non-Jews, and on the other axis, depicted the people against the elites.

Likud’s adoption of exclusionary populism, using religion as a marker of boundaries, separates the (Jewish) people depicted as an ethnically or culturally homogeneous group from those excluded - migrant workers, asylum seekers, non-Jewish citizens (primarily, Palestinian) – who by their mere presence undermine the aspired homogeneity of the (Jewish) nation-state that needs to be defended. Arab citizens are the major target of exclusionary populism. On the one hand, Netanyahu’s 2019 government adopted an ambitious economic plan for investment in Arab towns and villages, among other things in response to an OECD report that pointed to inequalities that prevent Arab citizens from integrating in the labor market. But, on the other hand, it also promoted legislation to secure Jewish dominance and discredited Arab citizen’s political struggles for equality or even their right to participate. In 2015 election day, when polls suggested he is behind, Netanyahu released a video urging his supporters to go out and vote because “Arabs are flowing to vote, in buses paid by leftist NGOs” (Netanyahu, 2015). In 2019, attempting to prevent the establishment of a centrist government with the support of the United Arab List, the party that represented the majority of Arab citizens, Netanyahu claimed that the Arab members of parliament “want to destroy the country,” and “Teheran, Ramallah, and Gaza will celebrate” the establishment of such a government (Ynet, 2019). Likud members continuously attacked the government for the inclusion of an Arab party in the coalition, arguing that the government does not represent the (Jewish) people.

Asylum seekers and migrant laborers, many of them Africans, were another target of populism. They were depicted a threat to the Jewish character of the state, and he demand for their expulsion became part of an on-going demographic “battle” to ensure a Jewish majority. Minister Miri Regev, then a member of parliament, called Sudanese refugees ‘a cancer in the body of our nation’ (Jerusalem Post, 16.7.2013). The fact that asylum seekers resided in poor neighborhoods, added also a class dimension to the debate. Supreme Court Judges that prevented deportations, and civil society organizations providing aid to asylum seekers, were described by populist politicians as detached elites, more concerned with the welfare of strangers than of their own kin. In some instances, the support for asylum seekers was claimed to be part of a deliberate plan to undermine the Jewish identity of the state, transforming the state from “Jewish” to a state “of all citizens” (https://news.walla.co.il/item/3131951).

Exclusionary populism also separates “people” from “elites.” The latter, described as liberals, namely in favor of rights to non-Jews, and hitherto disloyal to the nation. This adds another angle to Israeli populism, its being “security-driven,” namely elites depicted as undermining national security (Levi & Agmon, 2021). Elites were targeted by populists, among other things due to their (alleged or real) support of Arab citizens and asylum seekers. The courts, academia, the media and civil society organizations associated with elites were all blamed for undermining the coherence of the nation-state. Politics, accordingly, is conceived as a struggle between good Jewish Israelis faithful to the “true” common interests of the Jewish People and the allegedly disloyal elites. Anti-elitism is aimed not at economic elites but as the cultural and judicial elites antithetical to the “true” people. As Minister of Culture, Miri Regev, a central Likud leader, attacked artists and writers who opposed her populist cultural policies, denouncing “the hypocrisy of the self-styled intellectual elite” (Regev, 2015). Similarly, Miki Zohar, another senior party member, described the media as controlled by elites: “the media go hand in hand with those political forces who oppose me and everyone who dares to confront the old elites in the name of Prime Minister Netanyahu” (Zohar, 2020).

Likud’s view of democracy is a majoritarian one, in which democracy is the unmediated expression of the people’s will. Building on a synecdoche, they argue that their parliamentary majority is in fact the “people.” This illiberal conceptualization of democracy opposes liberal anti-majoritarian practices such as judiciary review and the independence of the judiciary, associated with the elites. In this view, the executive delegated by the Parliament and government, elected by the majority, expresses the people’s will. Consequently, elected officials should have the sole responsible for determining policies and professional civil servants or the Court should not interfere. Some years ago, Yariv Levin, then the Knesset’s Chair and later Minister of Justice in the 37th government, provided in an interview a prelude to the reform he would lead: “The role of the court… is not to replace the Knesset, the government or the people. Even if the name is Supreme Court, the judges are not superior people, their values are not superior to those of the common people. This way of thinking is anti-democratic and dangerous” (Levin, 2019).

Religion for the Likud and its supporters is often part of a tradition and culture that unites and provides content for the idea of the “people.” It is also a marker of boundaries, setting apart not only Jews from non-Jews but also a moral hierarchy between the traditional people, loyal and united, and the detached, secular and alienated elites. This approach, however, also sets them apart from the Orthodox and Ultra-Orthodox Jews for which religion is a restrictive code of behavior. Accordingly, this version of populism can be more tolerant towards homosexuality (Amir Ohana, one of Likud’s senior members, is openly gay) and less supportive of religious restrictive legislation.   

For Likud’s populism, religion was largely instrumental, demarcating boundaries between Jews and non-Jews and between “elites” and the “people.” For the Shas party, conversely, religion was doctrinal and more demanding in terms of personal and collective behavior. Shas, a central member of the current coalition, developed a different populist approach. Shas, that emerged in 1984, is an ultra-Orthodox party. It distinguished itself from the Ashkenazi (Jews from a European descent) ultra-orthodox party, Agudat Israel. The party’s constituency includes an ultra-orthodox core but also lower class Mizrahim, often with a traditionalist approach towards religion, from the periphery (Peled, 1998). After years of subordination and discrimination by the Ashkenazi ultra-Orthodoxy, Shas set on an independent course with a commitment to improve the material conditions of its followers and to “Restore the Crown (the Torah) to its Ancient Glory.” The latter aims to a greater role for religion in the public sphere but is also an ethnic matter, designed to raise the status and stature of Mizrahi identity and culture in Israel (Yadgar, 2003). The assertive claim for the inclusion of Sephardic Jews (preferring the term over Mizrahim) with a strict exclusionary position towards non-Jews is what defines Shas’ religious populism, based on an orthodox interpretation of Judaism.

Shas’ version of populism is built around three Manichean oppositions between “us and them” —Sephardic religious versus secular Jews, Mizrahim versus Ashkenazim, and Jews versus non-Jews[2] (Filc & Ben-Porat, 2023). These oppositions translate into a perception in which “good [Jewish] people” must defend themselves against threats posed by liberal elites and non-Jews. Liberal (secular) elites are perceived as undermining the (religious) Jewish character of the state. Non-Jews (Arab citizens or non-Jewish immigrants) pose a danger of assimilation and a threat to desired religious/national purity (Leon, 2014). Jewish religious and national belonging, for Shas, are one and the same, as national existence relies upon religion. Shas’ adopts a profound anti-liberal stance, as religion is perceived as an inseparable part of the public sphere. Accordingly, it is expected that state institutions would be subordinated to religious mores and authority. Shas is also anti-elitist, like many populist parties, their anti-elitism directed both towards ultra-orthodox Ashkenazim for their continued discrimination of Mizrahi students and scholars, and towards the secular Ashkenazi elite (associated with Labor Party) for the exclusion and marginalization of Mizrahim

Jewish religious values rather than (secular) Israeli values or attitudes, according to Shas, must be the gateway to inclusion in Israeli society (Peled, ibid). Accordingly, religion is, first, the ground for claims for inclusion that rather than pioneering or military service the labor hegemony used is “stressing a message of Jewish unity rooted in religious values” (Kopelowitz, 2001). But, second, religious boundaries also delineate a nativist and exclusionary conceptualization of the people. Moreover, as mentioned above, Shas is also anti-liberal. It is an ultra-orthodox religious party in which religious leaders enjoy overarching authority, adheres to strict religious observance, does not include women representatives and strongly opposes LGBTQ+ rights.

Populism, as argued above, can be expected when societies face questions of inclusion and exclusion and boundaries are contested. Particular characteristics that facilitate the emergence of populist movements combine with a global context in which populism has become a major force worldwide. In Israel, several overlapping conflicts over the inclusion/exclusion of subordinate social groups (Mizrahim, Israel’s Arab citizens, Ultra-orthodox Jews, asylum seekers and migrant workers) explain, first, how the very defnition of people became a contested ground for citizenship and political identity; second, how religion became significant in delineating boundaries; and third, a ground for contestation between religious and non-religious. And, fourth the emergence of populist parties that share some ideas but differ on others. We now move to examine these developments in light of the attempted judicial overhaul.

Reform or Overhaul?

On December 29th, 2022, a new coalition government was formed in Israel. Previously, coalitions led by the Likud were moderated by a centrist party, the current one was different. It included the Likud, the largest party under the leadership of Benjamin Netanyahu, the two ultra-orthodox religious parties, Shas and Yahadut Hatora (formerly, Agudat Israel, representing the Ashkenazi ultra-Orthodox), the religious right party and “Jewish Power,” an extreme right-wing party hitherto excluded from coalitions. The new government, thus, represented a coalition between Likud’s exclusionary populism, religious ultra-orthodoxy, radical conservatism and clerical fascism. While the term radical conservatism could be considered an oxymoron, it represents an influential current within Israeli society, combining extreme nationalism, radical neo-liberalism, and extreme cultural conservatism.

Sociologically, it is linked mainly to religious Zionism and the settler movement in the Occupied Palestinian Territories. This ideological current has representatives in both Likud and the Religious Zionist party and has developed strong civil society institutions founded and funded by American conservatives, such as the Tikvah Fund and Kohelet Institute. Radical conservatism is authoritarian in its conceptions of social relations, whether gender, class or ethnic relationships. It also holds an aggressive and hostile approach to leftist and liberal movements and values (Steady, 2022). The attitude of Israeli conservatives to the legal field and the relationships between the judiciary and the other branches of government was significantly influenced by American conservatives (Reznik, forthcoming).

We use the term “clerical fascism” to the movements that promote the idea of national regeneration through its total fusion with the “true” religion. Originally it indicated the combination between Catholicism and Italian fascism but has been expanded to describe an orthodox conservative approach to religion (Christianity, Islam or Judaism) combined with extreme nationalism, racism, and the glorification of bare power (Eastwell, 2003, Pollard 2007, Kubatova & Kubatova, 2021). As Roger Griffin argued, in the clerical form of fascism “the vision of a cleansing national revolution is expressed and rationalized in a seemingly homogenized, unified [religious] discourse,” (Griffin, 2013: 8). For clerical fascists, the nation’s rebirth means that the nation’s obligations towards God will be met, religion and nation will form a harmonious symbiosis (Bijman, 2009). Jewish Power, a very influential party within the governmental coalition, presents most, if not all, of the elements that characterize clerical fascism. The party, established by former disciples of Meir Kahana, an extreme right-wing politician, holds the idea that the Jewish people originated in a divine pact with God, that the values of the Jewish state should be “those of the Jewish morals, its regime will be Jewish democracy protecting the interests of the Jewish values and rejecting any and all universal values,” and that occidental democracy represents an existential threat to the Jewish state.

On January 4th 2023, a week after the establishment of the new government, Yariv Levin, the new Minister of Justice, announced the first main project of the coalition, a set of legislation aimed to “modify” the relationship between the Judiciary on the one side, and the legislative and executive branches on the other.[3] The plan would provide the government with more power and threatened, according to the opposition, to push Israel further away from its already limited form of liberal democracy. What the government described as a “reform” was quickly depicted by the opposition as a “judicial overhaul” and an authoritarian takeover attempt. The government partners, while united by the desire to curb the power of the judicial system, had different aims and aspirations.

For the populists within Likud the reform represented the implementation of the populist view of democracy as the unlimited expression of the popular will, as well as the way to achieve concrete political interests. In the January 2023 press conference announcing the reforms, Minister of Justice Yariv Levin said: “The intervention [of the Supreme Court] in the decisions of government and Knesset… are the cause of the loss of governance and damage democracy.” He added: “We vote, we chose, but once and again the Justices, who have been not elected by the people, are the ones who decide.” 

In February 2023, a couple of weeks after the first demonstration following Levin’s press conference, Prime Minister Netanyahu wrote in his Facebook wall: “In the last elections, three months ago, millions of Israelis went to vote. Their vote decided, it deposited in my hands, and in the hands of the members of my government, with the support of Parliament, the mandate to rule. We were elected in order to lead our program, in line with the will of the majority.” Two weeks after, on February 20th, he wrote: “The leaders of the protest speak in the name of democracy, but in fact they destroy democracy. The time has come that they learn what democracy means. In democracy the people vote in elections, and their representatives vote in Parliament. Period.”

In the same line, in March 2023, following a demonstration supporting the reform (amidst ongoing massive protests against the reform) Levin declared: “Tonight, masses of Israeli citizens whose voices have not been heard, and whose beliefs were not taken into account for decades by a judiciary system blind to their needs, that despised them, that was closed before them, stood tall. I am here today to make their voices heard, to make sure that from today their voices will be heard in the judiciary system, the academy, the media, and in institutions that exclude them and do not take into account the great majority of the Israeli people.” Both Levin’s statements and Netanyahu’s posts reveal a majoritarian conception of democracy, and an anti-elitist discourse in line with the exclusionary populist conceptualization.

Finally, the fact that Netanyahu was under trial for corruption charges pitted its supporters against the judicial system they claimed biased and unfair. Thus, it was the “will of the people” that elected Netanyahu, against the judicial elites that seek to remove him from power. The proposed laws that would limit judiciary review or give parliament the last say concerning the legitimacy of the laws, are reflective of Likud’s populism and the argument that the judiciary is part of the elites and in unaccountable to the will of the people. In the same vein, the demand to provide the government with a majority in the committee that appoints judges and justices is based on the claim that representatives of the people, rather than a body in which the legal profession has the majority, should have the main influence on the formation of the judicial branch.[4]

For radical conservatives and clerical fascists, the juridical overhaul was another step in strengthening Jewish supremacy, and the settlement project in the OPT. It was a first step in their struggle against liberal democracy in particular, but also representing a particular disdain of the Supreme Court for allegedly interfering with the settlement project. The court’s acceptance of Palestinians right to contest land confiscations for settlements, to take one example, had made it a target of criticism and the reason for demands to curb its authority.

The two Ultra-orthodox parties, Yaadut Hatora[5] and Shas share with the other coalition members an anti-liberal worldview, but also represent particular interests of the voters.[6] Thus, their support for the plan to curtail juridical review arises from their demand to formalize their exemption from military service and concern that the Supreme Court will annule such legislation based on the argument that it was not in line with the liberal principle of equality before the law. In an interview given in April 2023, Yitzhak Goldknopf, Minister of Housing and leader of Yahadut Hatora said: “The reform is not part of our party’s platform. The question of who will be judged or the question of the ground of reasonableness are not part of our agenda. We are interested in the override clause…If there will not be an override clause to protect the recruitment law (the law that exempts ultraorthodox from serving in the army), the government will fall,” (https://www.israelhayom.co.il/news/politics/article/13911587). These parties also view with disdain previous Supreme Court decisions that provided rights for LGBTQ+, promoted gender equality, opened opportunities for marriage not conformed by religious orthodoxy and other rulings perceived as liberal and against their vision of a Jewish state. For the ultra-orthodox, the planned juridical overhaul will allow for legislation that strengthens religious authority and pushes back what they perceive as the secularization of state and society.

Despite the differences between the different political-ideological trends within the governing coalition, the coalition members are united in their commitment to Jewish supremacy, to the Jewish character of the state and to anti-liberalism. Accordingly, they agreed to push forward the package of juridical reforms, which in different ways fitted their conceptions and interests. This common ground, underscoring the judicial reform, increased the potential for an authoritarian drift.

Resistance

The governmental coalition argued that the legislation promoted representativeness and was an expression of democracy, building on a synecdoche by which the part (64 MKs out of 120) is the people as a whole. Wide opposition, however, attempted to challenge the claim. On Saturday, January 7, 2023, three days after Minister Levin’s press conference, two demonstrations against the reform were organized. The first one, convened by the movement Standing Together, focused on the extreme right-wing character of the government. The second was called by the Movement for the Quality of Government (an NGO committed to fight state corruption). It included political figures such as former Minister of Defense Moshe Yaalon and former Prime Minister Ehud Barak, as well as organizations that emerged several years ago, in what came to be known as the “Balfour Protest.”[7] This second current became the dominant one. The organizations that led the protest in Balfour now focused on curbing the new judicial reform described as an authoritarian threat. Since January 2023, protests have taken place every Saturday night in all of Israel’s main cities and at different crossroads.

From a sociological point of view, the leaders of the protest and many of the protesters in the streets were middle and upper-middle class Jews, secular, and with college education. Protest and support were stronger in the central cities – mainly Tel Aviv and its surroundings - than in the geographical periphery. For the protestors, many of them hitherto not involved in politics, the government announced plan was a clear and immediate threat. Power granted to the government, and especially to the ultraorthodox and extreme-right, threatened to roll back many liberal achievements – among them gender and LGBTQ equality - and to undermine Israeli (already limited) democracy. Protestors were fighting not only against a threat to democracy but also against what was perceived as an illiberal threat to their rights and freedoms. In many demonstrations a display of women in crimson robes and white caps, dressed as characters from the TV series “The Handmaid’s Tale,” based on Margaret Atwood’s dystopian novel, displayed the fears the government evoked among non-religious Israelis.

In line with the sociological profile of the protesters, the protest has drawn leverage from particular centers of power. Military reservists, among them air force pilots and other elite units, who saw themselves as gatekeepers of liberal democracy, threatened to discontinue their service if the judicial overhaul would not stop (Ziv, 2025). Another source of leverage was the business community, especially the hi-tech and financial sectors, concerned about the potential negative economic consequences of the legislation. Businesspeople feared the reform would chase away investors and negatively influence Israel’s credit rating. In a neo-liberal globalized and financialized world, the reforms could be interpreted as a threat to the market economic rationale, among other things undermining the independence of the central bank.

The protest movement evolved and grew, involving more and more citizens and organizations. The protesters carried national flags, presenting themselves as true patriots contesting the government’s claim that the reform represented the will of the people. The protest was careful to position itself within the Jewish consensus, a position that enabled it to recruit the support of groups not identified with the liberal camp or hitherto not politically involved. At the same time however, the position seemed to alienate Arab citizens who were largely absent from the protest. Military service, considered a display of good citizenship in Israel, has played a major part in the protest. Many of the leaders stressed their service and contribution and emphasized the government’s plan to legalize the exemption of ultra-orthodox from military service. Also, the threat of activists to discontinue their reserve service if the government will not halt its plan (we will not serve a non-democratic regime) was a significant demonstration of disagreement and the perceived illegitimacy of the reform.

Differences and tensions also emerged within the coalition. When the press disclosed that the coalition agreements included passing a law allowing businesses to refuse services based on religious convictions (allowing, among other things, discrimination of the LGBTQ+ communities), Likud prominent figures declared that that point of the coalition agreements would never be implemented. Similarly, the proposed legislation regarding the exemption of ultraorthodox from military service causes discomfort among other members of the coalition. Overall, the Likud supporters' more traditional and moderate perception of religiosity, and somewhat liberal position towards the Jewish ingroup, is in tension with its coalition partners' views, aspirations, and demands.

The antagonistic and uncompromising attempt to promote the reform, and the opposition, emptied the coalition synechodcal claim that their 64 mandates majority represented the will of the people. In fact, according to the public polls, a majority of the Israelis opposed the reform. While the support for the reform was limited from the beginning, its popularity decreased as the clash between government and protesters deepened. Two different polls held in January 2023 showed that 43-44% opposed the reform as a whole, while only 19% to 39% supported it (https://www.globes.co.il/news/article.aspx?did=1001437161). In July 2023, opposition to the reform reached 56%, and almost half of Likud voters answered that they supported halting the reform in order to protect “national unity” (https://www.idi.org.il/galleries/50224). Moreover, polls also showed that if elections took place in July 2023, the parties making the governmental coalition would fall from 64 to 52 mandates out of 120.

The governmental coalition, as we explained above, comprised an alliance between radical right populism, clerical fascism, radical conservatism and ultra-orthodox religious parties. Albeit significant differences between them, the alliance was made possible because the partners shared a commitment to Jewish supremacy, an exclusionary definition of the people conflating demos with ethnos (defined by religious boundaries), anti-liberalism, and a commitment to the colonial project in the Occupied Palestinian Territories (OPT). Accordingly, the judicial overhaul was a manifestation of the members’ political agendas, undermining liberal institutional arrangements like juridical review, and by that securing both Jewish supremacy and the settlement project in the OPT.

The coalition alliance was first and foremost anti-liberal, but members’ perceptions of democracy, and the judicial overhaul plan, also hinted its autocratization potential. However, alongside common interests, members also had different perceptions that slowed the authoritarian drift. For some, religion was instrumental for boundary-making and exclusion of non-Jews, but religious authority over everyday life was to be limited. In contrast, for the other, anti-liberal partners, since sovereignty resided in God’s earthly representatives, religious authority should be strengthened, among other reasons, to protect family values and morality. Religion is an important variable in explaining ongoing support for the reform, as showed by an IDI poll, the highest support for the reform and the lowest support for a compromise between coalition and opposition is found among ultra-Orthodox and nationalist religious Jews (circa 70% and 50% respectively) (IDI, 2023). At the same time religion was also a highly divisive issue. For those protesting the reform, the concern over the expansion of religious authority was central. But, even for many not identified with the protest, the demands of religious partners for conservative policies, allocation of funds for religious institutions or exemptions from military service were unpopular.

The aggressive, one-sided and provocative character of the reform process strengthened concerns among many that democracy was in danger. The autocratic and theocratic threats fueled the opposition to the reform. Week after week hundreds of thousands marched against the reforms. As the protest evolved, public opinion showed that the government’s popularity was decreasing. By July 2023 only 25 percent of the Jewish citizens supported the reform, with half of Likud voters preferring that it would be stopped (IDI, 2023). This picture eroded one of the most basic ideas of the populist creed, that of the homogeneous people. Not only general public opinion (polls also showed that if elections would take place in July 2023 the coalition would only receive 53 mandates) (BHH, 2023), but also half of Likud voters declared they preferred “the unity of the people” over the reform (Maariv, 2023), voiding the coalition’s leaders claim that they represented “the people.” Those tensions begun to penetrate Likud, with figures such as MK David Bitan and Head of the Local Government Council Haim Bibas openly criticizing the reforms and press reports informing that several Likud MK would not support further legislation steps (Ynet, 2023).

The War in Gaza

The war in Gaza, following the Hamas attack on October 2023, has heightened the divide and tensions described above. Populism, now highly securitized and more divisive, but also divided. The government, under immense pressure after the October attack, firstly reacted in a “traditional” populist way, blaming the elites. Netanyahu and his ministers attempted to deflect the demands to take responsibility and resign, by shifting the blame to the military and the secret service, as well as to the protests against the judicial overhaul. The failure to detect the attack was attributed to the negligence or incompetence of the security elite and their failure to alert the Prime Minister of the imminent threat. The protests, also led by elites, it was argued, undermined Israel from within and signaled to Hamas that Israel was vulnerable, motivating the attack.

Israel’s invasion of Gaza has turned into a protracted war that, when this paper was written, has not ended. The war has heightened the divisions among Israelis. The government attempted to deflect responsibility to the October 7 events and to present the expansion and continuation of the war, until complete victory is achieved, as necessary. Opinion polls, however, demonstrated that the majority of Israelis hold the government responsible for the war and supports ending the war so as to bring back the hostages. Thus, it is difficult for the government to make believe the claim that it represents the will of the people.

Moreover, the war, also created a rift within the coalition over the military draft of ultra-Orthodox men. Since statehood, ultra-Orthodox men devoted to religious studies were exempted from mandatory military service. Since the 1970’s these exemptions have turned into a political controversy and were challenged by appeals to the High Court of Justice. The long war, the large numbers of military casualties and the burden on reserve soldiers have sharpened the debate. The opposition was quick to point that the government that prolongs the war rests also on constituencies that do not share the burden. But a rift emerged also within the coalition and its supporters. On the one hand, the ultra-Orthodox parties demanded to protect the status of young people engaged in religious studies and maintain the exemption. But, on the other hand, Likud supporters demand that ultra-Orthodox young males be drafted, facing Likud with a contradiction between the will of their supporters and the will of their coalition partners.

Conclusions

The recent attempt for judicial overhaul in Israel, led by a right-wing and religious populist government exemplifies the potential threat for authoritarianism the combination of religion and populism posits. The Israeli case presented here suggests some lessons in order to better understand the relationship between populism, religion and processes of authoritarianism, and also the possible limitations on an authoritarian drift. First, while neither religion nor populism are intrinsically authoritarian, when they combine within exclusionary populism, they facilitate the synecdochal operation that grounds the authoritarian derive. If the populist exclusionary leader pertains to represent the people as a whole, his decisions are described as an expression of the will of the whole political community, are backed by (often instrumentalized) religious morality and therefore cannot be questioned. Any challenge to the leader’s decisions is considered as adversary to the people, and as immoral, justifying thus authoritarian measures taken against the opposition and alternative voices.

Second, however, religion and populism, while coalescing on the definition of boundaries, may conflict over the role of religion. For exclusionary populist parties (like Likud), religion is instrumentalized to define boundaries and therefore may allow liberal attitudes and policy compromises within the in-group, widening popular support. Conversely, for the coalition’s religious partners, religion is about moral authority, limiting their willingness to compromise. The tensions between the instrumental and the doctrinal approach to religion not only create divisions within radical right coalitions but also breed public opposition. Thus, the combined anti-liberal and anti-democratic threats are likely to evoke antagonist responses and facilitate the strengthening of opposition. These tensions, as the Israeli case demonstrates, undermine the claim that the party or coalition in government represents the people as a whole, motivate and expand opposition and, consequently, limit the authoritarian threat. The tension over the draft of ultra-Orthodox men, described above, is a clear example of how intra-coalition tensions between the instrumental and doctrinal approaches to religion open the way for broad opposition and hamper the authoritarian drive.

The analysis of the Israeli case, thus, allows for more generalizable conclusions concerning the relationship between populism and authoritarianism. While a strong corpus of literature considers the authoritarian drive as intrinsic to populism in government, we propose a more cautious approach. First, in accord with our conceptualization of populism, we argue that the analysis should consider the differences between inclusionary and exclusionary populism. Second, in political systems with coalition governments, the intra-coalition tensions may hinder the authoritarian drive and play a role in the emergence of a strong opposition. Third, the interplay between populism and religion, while apparently strengthening the authoritarian drift by both reinforcing the boundaries between “us” and “them” and portraying the opposition as immoral, may also hinder or even prevent authoritarianism due to the tensions between the instrumental use of religion and the doctrinal approach, which is committed to religion as a strict way of life.

Concerning the war in Gaza, even though it is far too early to evaluate its influence on Israeli society, it is possible to provide some reflections on the way the war influenced the drive to authoritarianism. On the one hand, as elsewhere, war strengthens authoritarian dreams and nationalist sentiments, dissenting voices are silenced and de-legitimized and opposition is undermined. Reservists, who previously threatened to discontinue their military service if the juridical reform would continue, rushed to arms immediately after the deadly Hamas attack. The government, having expanded the war in Gaza and caused tens of thousands of innocent deaths and massive destruction, is under pressure from its extreme-right factions, refuses to offer any political alternative, and remains adamant about continuing the war “until total victory.”

The government has used the war as an excuse to persecute voices criticizing it. Arab citizens have been especially targeted, sometimes even fired from their jobs, for expressions that the government considered as “supporting the enemy.” The government stopped advertisement in the newspaper “Haaretz” in retaliation to its critical stance. Public demands for an investigating committee on the October 7 events and their antecedents were rejected by the government, which placed responsibility on the military and blamed the anti-legislation protests for weakening Israel’s deterrence. However, there was no “rallying to the flag” in support of the government following October 7. On the contrary, criticism of Netanyahu and his government is consistent, with a steady two thirds of the Israelis supporting a hostage deal with Hamas that would also end the war, holding Netanyahu responsible for the October 7 disaster. While smaller than before the war, massive protests continued, focusing on demands to end the war and bring back the hostages. It is difficult to forecast what will prevail. On the one hand, the declining support and continued protests make it nearly impossible for the government to claim that it represents the people, thus hampering authoritarianism. On the other hand, paradoxically, the loss of public support stimulates the authoritarian temptation.

Footnotes

[1] In the same vein, there is also potential anti-democratic threats within liberalism, such as technocracy or neo-liberalism. 

[2] While non-Jews, on the whole, are attacked since they do not belong to the people, Shas’ approach to Israel’s Arab citizens is more nuanced, sharing similar economic burdens and concerns. Thus, while Shas members have been very active in their opposition to mixed neighborhoods (Leon, ibid), Deri proclaimed that Mizrahi Jews and Israeli Arabs share common interests.

[3] The announced reform included five main elements: abolition of the claim to reasonability as a basis for the juridical review of executive actions and decisions; the modification of the committee that elects the judges in order to give the governing coalition an automatic majority; limiting the power of the Supreme Court to annulate laws; giving parliament the last decision concerning the legitimacy of laws, by allowing it to overrule the annulment of a law by the Supreme Court with a simple majority; and, finally, making the legal advisors for the Ministries a political appointment by the Minister, and not an appointment made by the Civil Service.

[4] Currently the committee for the selections of judges is composed by two ministers (one of them the Minister of Justice), two members of parliament (one for the governing coalition and one for the opposition), three Justices (selected by seniority) and two representatives of the lawyers’ bar.

[5] Yaadut Hatora is a sectorial party that represents the interests of ultra-orthodox Ashkenazi Jews. While ideally the aims to a theocracy and is antagonistic to the Zionist idea of a Jewish state before the coming of the Messiah, its everyday goals are aimed to protect the Ashkenazi community from secular influences, opposing for example military recruitment, and ensuring state support for the community needs in fields such as housing and education.

[6] In the 1980s and 1990s Shas did see itself as a counter-hegemonic party, putting forward a comprehensive vision for Israeli society as a whole. This changed, however, in the 2000s, and Shas became more similar to the Ashkenazi Ultra-orthodox party, focusing in defending the interests of ultra-orthodox Jews.

[7] The protest, named after the street adjacent to the Prime Minister’s residence where the demonstrations took place, demanded Netanyahu’s resignation following his investigation and indictment for corruption.