As Americans conclude celebrations of the 250th anniversary of the greatest democratic experiment in modern history, Israelis find themselves entering yet another election season. The timing is striking. One nation reflected on the endurance of its democratic institutions; the other prepares for what many already predict will be one of the most bitter and divisive political campaigns in its history.

The contrast should cause every Israeli to pause. For me, given that my family has been American for more than half of the 250 years, and now, as an American Israeli, I find myself way beyond that moment of pause, and instead to the serious concern for our future.

We often define democracy by its institutions: free elections, freedom of speech, an independent judiciary, a free press, and the peaceful transfer of power. These are indispensable pillars of any democratic society.

But they are not what makes democracy resilient.

Democracy’s greatest strength has always rested upon something deeper: the belief that despite our disagreements, there exists a common good that is worth pursuing together.

THE KNESSET during a meeting on December 24, 2025.
THE KNESSET during a meeting on December 24, 2025. (credit: MARC ISRAEL SELLEM)

Citizens may disagree passionately about how to achieve that common good. They may debate security policy, economic priorities, judicial reform, religion, education, or diplomacy. Vigorous disagreement is not democracy’s weakness; it is its strength.

The danger begins when we stop believing there is any common good at all.

Israel today confronts perhaps the most complex strategic environment in its history. Iran continues pursuing regional dominance. Terrorist organizations remain committed to Israel’s destruction. Information warfare, diplomatic isolation, economic pressure, and efforts to delegitimize the Jewish state have become permanent features of the international landscape.

Yet history teaches that nations rarely fail because their enemies become stronger alone. They fail because internal cohesion becomes weaker.

No missile can destroy a society that refuses to surrender its unity. But internal hatred can accomplish what foreign adversaries only dream of achieving.

Perhaps that is why the words of Israel’s Declaration of Independence remain so relevant today. Our founders did not merely proclaim sovereignty; they appealed to the Jewish people to unite in rebuilding their homeland while committing the new state to freedom, justice, peace, and the welfare of all its inhabitants. Their vision was not simply political independence. It was the creation of a shared national purpose.

Jewish tradition understood this long before modern democracies existed.

Many Jews begin each morning by accepting upon themselves the commandment to love their fellow before standing in prayer. The sequence matters. Before speaking to God, we are reminded of our obligations to one another. It is a profound recognition that a nation cannot hope to receive blessings while allowing contempt to define relationships among its own people.

That wisdom has never been more relevant.

Imagine, for a moment, a different kind of election. Imagine an election in which slogans and political buzzwords were outlawed. No labels. No manufactured outrage. No campaigns devoted to convincing voters that the greatest danger facing Israel is another Israeli.

Instead, every candidate would be required to answer four simple questions.

What problem are you trying to solve? Exactly how will you solve it? Where has your approach succeeded before? Why should the Israeli public trust you to deliver?

Imagine televised debates where credibility mattered more than charisma. Imagine campaigns built around evidence instead of emotion. Imagine applause following practical solutions rather than clever insults. Imagine candidates asking for our vote because they had earned our confidence, not because they had persuaded us to hate someone else.

That is not naïve. It is what democracy was always intended to be.

Perhaps we are asking the wrong question.

In recent months, many Israelis have wondered whether America is abandoning Israel. It is a legitimate concern. Alliances matter. Strategic partnerships matter. The relationship between Israel and the United States remains one of the most important in the world.

But perhaps that is not the most important question before us. Perhaps we should instead ask: Have we begun abandoning ourselves? Have we allowed outrage to become our political currency? Have we accepted that campaigns built on fear and resentment are somehow inevitable? Have we permitted those who profit from polarization to define the national conversation?

We must demand solutions

Israel's enemies understand something that we sometimes forget: a divided democracy is easier to weaken than a united one.

The objective of modern information and cognitive warfare is not merely to spread falsehoods. It is to convince citizens that they have more in common with their political tribe than with their fellow countrymen. Once that happens, democracy begins consuming itself from within.

The antidote will not come from another political party. Nor will it come from another election. It must come from us.

Israel does not need another political revolution. It needs a civic revolution. A peaceful revolution led not by politicians, but by citizens – a revolution in expectations.

Every Israeli, Jew, Muslim, Christian, Druze, religious, secular, Left, Right, and Center, should begin demanding something profoundly simple from every candidate seeking public office.

Bring us solutions. Bring us evidence. Bring us integrity. Bring us hope.

Do not bring us hatred. Do not ask us to vote for you because you are not someone else.

Ask us to vote for you because your ideas, your experience, and your character offer the best path toward strengthening the State of Israel.

The strongest democracies are not those without disagreement. They are those whose citizens refuse to allow disagreement to destroy their shared future.

America’s founders understood that free people could govern themselves only if they believed they belonged to something larger than themselves. Jewish civilization has taught for millennia that our covenant with one another is inseparable from our covenant with God. Israel inherits both traditions.

As this election season begins, perhaps the most patriotic act any of us can perform is not merely casting a ballot. It is demanding that every person asking for that ballot first demonstrate how they intend to serve the common good.

The day Israelis stop rewarding slogans over substance, outrage over solutions, and division over vision will mark the beginning of a revolution, not in our government, but in ourselves.

That may prove to be the greatest victory any democracy can achieve.

For Israel, failure is not an option.

The writer is a global strategist and a strategic adviser at the Jerusalem Center for Security and Foreign Affairs. He can be reached at globalstrategist2020@gmail.com.