President Joe Biden is far more than just the State of Israel's best and most dependable friend and ally. He may well be the only one capable of restoring a measure of equilibrium to Israel's relationship with the United States and the international community. He is the proverbial responsible adult in the room, and his call last week with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu constituted what is commonly referred to as an act of tough love. The president of the United States told the prime minister of Israel what the prime minister didn't want but needed to hear.
A few basic facts: Ever since Oct. 7, the U.S. has been providing the necessary political cover and military support to give Israel the time to try to eliminate Hamas as an existential threat, and Biden has indicated that he is willing to continue to do so if Israel enables increased humanitarian relief to reach Gaza and engages in a good faith effort to reach a deal to cease hostilities and rescue those hostages who have survived captivity in Gaza for the past six months.
At the same time, at least prior to until the catastrophic deadly strike on the World Central Kitchen convoy, Netanyahu seemed to take enormous pleasure in sticking his finger in Biden's eye at every opportunity, presumably to demonstrate to his far-right base and coalition partners how tough he is.
It is one thing for Russian President Vladimir Putin to largely isolate himself on the international stage. Israel cannot afford to do so. And it wasn't until he heard from Biden last week that Netanyahu appears to have awakened to the realization that he will not be allowed to continue antagonizing the U.S. administration or impede humanitarian aid to Gaza with impunity.
Israel now finds itself in a crisis of Netanyahu's making. From the moment he and his disastrous ultranationalist-cum-ultra-orthodox government came into office at the very end of 2022, he has set his country on a collision course first with itself and, by now, with just about everyone else.
It began with Netanyahu's attempted onslaught on Israel's democratic essence and its independent judiciary, waged largely by proxies such as the mild mannered but ruthlessly reactionary Justice Minister Yariv Levin. This ham fisted attempt by Netanyahu to inure himself against multiple criminal charges failed because the Israeli public, including many political conservatives, rose up in defiant nation-wide protests.
And then came Oct. 7, when Israel deservedly had the sympathy of most of the world and experienced a semblance of unity in the face of horror. But Bibi—as Netanyahu is widely known—remained Bibi, a man focused at least as much, if not more, on his political survival as on the fate of his country.
What could possibly go wrong?
Before anyone accuses me of pandering to the antisemites who are screaming "Death to Israel" and " Death to the Jews" at rally after rally, let me state clearly and unequivocally at the outset that (a) continued bipartisan political and military support for Israel is essential regardless of one's repugnance at Netanyahu's persona; (b) we cannot condone, minimize, or trivialize any manifestations of antisemitism, Islamophobia, racism, white supremacism, or any other bigotry, including, especially these days, in the context of anti-Israel demonstrations; and (c) Hamas is the murderous terrorist organization whose slaughter of more than 1,200 Israeli Jews on Oct. 7 sparked the war that has been raging in Gaza over the past six months.
Still, a leader without empathy and compassion is problematic at the best of times but never more so than during a war with casualties on both sides. And Netanyahu has proven himself to be singularly devoid of both qualities. Not only has he evidenced little concern for Palestinian civilians in Gaza but relatives of hostages still being held captive by Hamas in Gaza after six months of horrific imprisonment now accuse him publicly of hindering negotiations for the hostages' release.
The fact is that the increasingly albatross-like Netanyahu is probably Israel's single biggest liability at the moment. With his bunker—or Masada—mentality and insistence on an improbable "complete" or "total" victory in the Israel-Hamas war, he has succeeded in isolating Israel on the world stage as never before.
The following split-screen tells it all. "We are a step away from victory," Netanyahu declared on Sunday while UK Foreign Minister David Cameron warned in an op-ed in The Sunday Times that "Of course our backing is not unconditional: we expect such a proud and successful democracy to abide by international humanitarian law, even when challenged in this way. As an occupying power, Israel has a responsibility to the people of Gaza."
Israel and its supporters across the globe are now experiencing the Spring of Our Discontent. The summer is unlikely to get any easier unless Netanyahu internalizes what appears more and more to be the inevitable.
Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer (D-NY) is far from alone in calling for new elections in Israel. Benny Gantz, the extremely popular former chief of staff of the Israel Defense Forces and defense minister who joined Israel's war cabinet after the Oct. 7 Hamas slaughter and remains a member of the government, wants national elections to be held in September; former justice, interior and education minister Gideon Sa'ar, who left the government two weeks ago, proposed January 2025 as the date for such elections; opposition leader Yair Lapid warns that Israel "cannot wait another six months until the worst, most dangerous and failed government in the country's history goes home;" and tens of thousands of Israelis—an impressive cross-section of the Israeli public—are rallying regularly in the streets of Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, and elsewhere around the country demanding the opportunity to put Netanyahu and his government out of their misery.
Biden has not formally joined this chorus—indeed, it would be unseemly for him to do so—but he would certainly not shed any tears at Netanyahu's departure from the scene. Neither would U.K. Prime Minister Rishi Sunak, German Chancellor Olaf Scholz, French President Emmanuel Macron . . . the list is endless.
The mutual hatred between Israelis and Palestinians resulting from the Oct. 7 atrocities perpetrated by Hamas and the devastating Palestinian loss of life, displacement, and suffering in the months since will take decades if not longer to transcend on both sides. The first step in any possible reconciliation (especially one that appears improbable at this time) must be a change of leadership.
As I noted four months ago, there is a remedy when national and political leaders remain in office past their sell-by dates to the detriment of their respective countries, even in wartime. See British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain in May 1940, eight months into World War II, or French prime ministers René Viviani, Aristide Briand, Alexandre Ribot, and Paul Painlevé during World War I.
The smart move is for such leaders to be sent packing—a gold-plated retirement watch is completely optional.
To paraphrase Bob Dylan's classic "Subterranean Homesick Blues," we don't need a weatherman to know which way this particular wind is blowing.
Menachem Z. Rosensaft is adjunct professor of law at Cornell Law School and lecturer-in-law at Columbia Law School. He is the author of Poems Born in Bergen-Belsen (Kelsay Books, 2021) and of the forthcoming Burning Psalms (Ben Yehuda Press, 2025).
The views expressed in this article are the writer's own.
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