In Israel, It’s Gatekeepers 1, Bibi 0

For weeks now, one question has loomed large in the battle between the government of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and protesters trying to block his assault on the country’s judiciary: Which side would the gatekeepers take—the powerful bureaucrats who run the country’s economy, its legal system, its security services, and other key institutions?

Some of those gatekeepers made themselves heard this week. They shut down sectors of the economy, canceled university classes, and cut services at embassies around the world, dramatically raising the stakes in the standoff and forcing Netanyahu to put off a parliamentary vote on legislation targeting the Supreme Court.

“I, as prime minister, am taking a timeout for dialogue,” Netanyahu said in an address on Monday, pledging to consult with opposition parties about the legislation.

By doing so, he averted a broader showdown for now on an issue that has prompted unprecedented street protests, waves of insubordination among military reservists, and handwringing about the future of Israel’s democracy. But the fate of the legislation—and of Netanyahu’s ruling coalition—remains uncertain.

To appease one faction in his coalition that had pushed for a quick vote in parliament, Netanyahu also agreed to consider forming a new security force under the direct authority of Itamar Ben-Gvir, the far-right national security minister. The proposal will be brought to the government for a decision next week, according to a written agreement between the two men, circulated by Ben-Gvir.

The crisis that has consumed Israel was set off by Netanyahu’s far-right government, which days after its inauguration in late December embarked on an ambitious plan that would significantly weaken the powers of the Supreme Court. Many on the Israeli right view the court as overly activist and as a bastion of liberalism that champions Palestinian rights—though its record on the issue is mixed. The proposed laws could dramatically alter the country’s power structure and are made possible because of a historic lacuna: Israel has no written constitution regulating the balance of power between the judiciary, the parliament, and the executive branch.

In response, tens of thousands took to the streets, protesting weekly against what they see as a power grab—and an attempt by Netanyahu to wriggle out of his ongoing trial for alleged bribery and fraud. More worrying for the security establishment, thousands of reservists announced they would not report for duty, including fighter pilots and intelligence officers in Israel’s vital cyber units.

Defense Minister Yoav Gallant warned Netanyahu privately that this insubordination on an unprecedented scale would pose a threat to Israel’s security. Over the weekend, Gallant called for the legislation to be put on hold. Shortly after, he was fired by Netanyahu.

That decision now looks like a mistake by the prime minister. It prompted a new round of protests and a nationwide strike and forced Netanyahu to delay the legislation. With parliament going on holiday recess next week, that delay could last six weeks.

Though Netanyahu is now seen as weakened, his legislative program is not dead. He still commands a majority in parliament that includes factions that—each for their own reasons—want to see the Supreme Court sidelined. If negotiations with the opposition fail and the legislation proceeds, one possibility is that the Supreme Court would strike it down, causing a showdown between the branches of government.

In that case, how the gatekeepers respond—and specifically the heads of the security branches—would once again be pivotal.

In the first few weeks of the government, as the protests were gathering pace, the question of who the security forces would obey—the government or the Supreme Court—was only whispered. Nobody wanted to be seen as supporting anything even resembling a military coup. But the protests have expanded to include top economists, the normally non-political but highly influential high-tech sector, and thousands of officers in the reserve forces, who signed petitions saying they would “not serve a dictatorship.” As a result, the potential actions of the four top security chiefs—who run the military, the Shin Bet, the Mossad, and police—became the subject of increasingly public speculation.

One Israeli television channel even broadcast a simulation of scenarios in which the police and the military had to choose between obeying the government or the Supreme Court. Two retired army generals and two former senior police commanders took part. Three of the four said they would have obeyed the courts. Only one said he would have remained loyal to the government.

“There’s no precedent or written rules about what they would have to do in such a case; it’s uncharted territory,” said former Mossad chief Efraim Halevy.

“I have no doubt that their duty is to obey the law, which means that the courts and the attorney general are there to direct them,” said Moshe Ya’alon, a former chief of staff and defense minister. “I’m sure that in a constitutional crisis, that is what they will do.”

It wouldn’t necessarily mean a full-blown military coup with tanks encircling Israel’s parliament and commandos taking control of ministry buildings. The most realistic scenario would see the chiefs of the services simply refusing to take orders from the prime minister and his cabinet and instead taking guidance from their legal counsels, who would in turn be directed by the attorney general.

But even this scenario would be a constitutional nightmare. Netanyahu has has no deputy who can take charge in his place. (There are titular “deputy prime ministers,” but they have no powers to take over in the absence of a prime minister.) Any temporary replacement has to be approved by the cabinet. The government is extremely unlikely to agree to replace Netanyahu, even temporarily. So if not the prime minister, who would be the elected official in charge?

“Right now, the role of the IDF chief of staff [who commands the military] and police commissioner is more difficult, as they have to appear in public and give some kind of guidance to their subordinates and the broader public,” said one former security chief.

“The heads of Mossad and Shin Bet very rarely appear in public, so they can remain silent. But once there is a constitutional crisis, they have the biggest dilemma because they work directly with the prime minister.”

If the legitimacy of the prime minister and his cabinet is questioned, there could be immediate military implications. Cross-border operations in which personnel could be at risk are authorized personally by the prime minister. What would a Mossad chief do without a prime minister giving him the green light? The Shin Bet’s Unit 730 is in charge of the prime minister’s security. Would its members continue accompanying him to his office and keeping him secure if the courts have ruled him unfit to serve? Will the chiefs be able to maintain order within their services, whose forces represent a wide political spectrum, including supporters and opponents of the government?

In public opinion surveys, the Israeli military is the most trusted national institution in the country. It is a disproportionately large organization for a country of just over 9 million citizens and is Israel’s biggest employer. Most Israelis have served in it at some point, and many continue as reservists. And yet, the generals have never come even close to openly challenging the government. To many Israelis such a scenario remains unthinkable, even now. But Ya’alon, a former army chief and erstwhile member of Netanyahu’s party—now estranged from the prime minister—believes “it could be a matter of weeks away.”