Can Bennett-Lapid 2.0 deliver lasting change?

We’ve seen this moment before in Israeli politics. Two former prime ministers, Naftali Bennett and Yair Lapid, are once again trying to redraw the map, this time by joining forces in what is being presented as a serious attempt to consolidate the opposition and offer a credible alternative to Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. The question is whether this is the political alignment that can finally challenge his dominance, or whether it will follow the path of so many previous efforts that began with momentum and ended in fragmentation. 

The last time Bennett and Lapid joined forces was in 2021, when they did the almost impossible by forming a broad eight-party coalition also aimed at unseating Netanyahu. That government successfully passed Israel’s first budget in years and served for 18 months before ultimately collapsing under the weight of internal defections and persistent ideological friction. 

This time round, much of the messaging is familiar, but the context is different. Observers point out that while the anti-Netanyahu camp may be able to win a moment, history has shown it cannot necessarily govern the country. 

On paper, Bennett and Lapid’s new alliance, called Together, or Beyachad in Hebrew, looks viable, with some polls suggesting it could become one of the country’s largest political parties. Unlike the last time, when the two had a rotation leadership agreement, with Bennett first and Lapid later, Bennett is now clearly in charge from the outset. This creates less ambiguity and may help avoid past instability, but it also risks alienating parts of Lapid’s base. 

Israeli politics is also not won on paper. It’s won in the arithmetic of coalition-building, where the largest party doesn’t necessarily form the government, and where 61 seats matter more than headlines, slogans, or launch events in Herzliya. It’s increasingly unclear whether the Arab Ra’am party would again be part of such a coalition, as it was in 2021. That move was historic and deeply controversial. In the current climate, such a configuration seems unlikely, and without Ra’am it isn’t clear the alliance can reach the 61-seat threshold. 

Bennett is also one of the few figures capable of drawing support from Netanyahu’s traditional base, but that cuts both ways. If miscalculated, it could split the right-wing vote rather than consolidate it, complicating the opposition’s path to a majority. 

Bennett and Lapid ‒ even if they succeed in strengthening their own position ‒ still depend on a wider bloc that remains fractured. Smaller parties on both the right and in the centre have their own ambitions, their own red lines, and their own reasons not to disappear into a larger political framework. Israeli politics rewards survival, not sacrifice. The very system Bennett and Lapid are trying to navigate makes it difficult for smaller players to step aside, even when unity might serve a broader goal. That is why consolidation sounds simple in theory, but proves far harder in practice. 

Beyond that, the role of traditional kingmakers cannot be ignored. Ultra-Orthodox parties have historically aligned themselves with Netanyahu, and there is little indication that this will shift easily. This further limits the room for manoeuvre for any alternative coalition. 

Bennett and Lapid aren’t natural political partners. Bennett comes from the right. He’s religious, hawkish on security, and speaks to voters who, while they may be deeply uncomfortable with Netanyahu, aren’t looking for a left-wing alternative. Lapid is secular, centrist, and more naturally at home among middle-class liberal voters. Their partnership isn’t ideological in the pure sense. It is practical. It is strategic. It is designed to say to Israelis: we are different enough to reach different voters, but disciplined enough to govern together. 

Importantly, Israel today is different from what it was in 2021. After 7 October, Israelis are angrier, more wounded, more suspicious of their leaders, and far less patient with political theatre. The real question is not only whether Bennett and Lapid can topple Netanyahu, but whether they can convince Israelis that this time their alliance can survive the pressures that broke it before. Toppling Netanyahu is not the same as replacing him with a stable alternative. Can the two turn opposition into leadership? Are they offering something more than simply being the alternative to Netanyahu? These are the questions on which this alliance will stand or fall. 

Netanyahu’s strength has always been his narrative. He understands fear. He understands history. He understands how to present himself as the indispensable man in a dangerous region. Even his opponents have often found themselves reacting to his framing rather than setting their own. But 7 October weakened Netanyahu’s most powerful claim that only he could keep Israel safe, and deepened the demand for accountability. Bennett has said he would establish a state commission of inquiry into the failures of 7 October if elected, something Netanyahu has so far resisted. That gives the new alliance a sharper political and moral edge than it had before. 

On security, Gaza, Iran, and the Palestinians, the differences between Bennett, Lapid, and Netanyahu may be less dramatic than outside observers assume. Bennett isn’t offering a soft alternative to Netanyahu. In some areas, he is firmly to the right. Lapid may change the tone, but he is unlikely to reshape Israel’s security doctrine overnight. If this election is fought purely on policy, the distinctions may blur. If it is fought on leadership, trust, and accountability, the alliance is on stronger ground. 

Bennett and Lapid may reshape the race. Their alliance may even, for the first time in years, seriously threaten Netanyahu’s hold on power. But Israeli politics has a way of testing moments very quickly. What looks cohesive in opposition can quickly fracture in government. Voters also have to decide if now is the time for a post-war reset in leadership, or for continuity. 

Together is a beautiful word. In Israeli politics, it is also a difficult one. 

• Paula Slier is a veteran journalist and foreign correspondent who has reported from conflict zones across the Middle East, Africa, and Europe. She writes on media, geopolitics, and information warfare.