Perspectives

Why Another Netanyahu Government Should Concern the World

By Nkateko Muloiwa

The prospect of Benjamin Netanyahu securing a record seventh term as Israel’s prime minister, especially in coalition with the country’s most overtly far-right parties, should unsettle not only Palestinians and Israel’s neighbours, but governments, investors and citizens worldwide.

This is not about being “against Israel”. It is about recognising how a particular configuration of power in Jerusalem can destabilise regions, erode international law, empower extremists elsewhere, and lock in policies that make peace, security and cooperation harder for everyone.

Israel is heading to the polls on 27 October 2026 in what many observers describe as one of the most consequential elections in its history. Netanyahu, already the longest-serving prime minister in the country’s history, is seeking a seventh mandate after years marked by the Hamas-led attack of October 2023, subsequent wars, and deep domestic controversy over judicial reform and wartime accountability. While his Likud party remains a dominant force on the right, recent polling suggests it is weakened and increasingly dependent on hard-right partners to reach a governing majority.

The coalition math matters because it determines policy direction. Netanyahu’s survival in office has repeatedly hinged on alliances with parties such as Itamar Ben-Gvir’s Jewish Power (Otzma Yehudit) and Bezalel Smotrich’s Religious Zionism, which have openly advocated expanded settlement activity, tougher security doctrines in the West Bank, and minimal concessions on Palestinian statehood. When a prime minister’s tenure depends on such allies, policy drifts toward their priorities: more settlements, more confrontational rhetoric, and less room for diplomatic compromise. That is not speculation; it is the logic of coalition politics under extreme pressure.

Why should this worry people far beyond Israel’s borders?

First, a government anchored in the far right increases the risk of escalation in an already volatile region. Hardline security postures, settlement expansion in sensitive areas (including flashpoints like the E1 corridor), and confrontational language raise tensions with Palestinians, neighbouring states and non-state actors. In a region where conflicts can quickly draw in multiple powers, even limited escalations can spiral. The world has seen how localised violence in the Levant can trigger wider confrontations, disrupt energy markets, and draw in global powers. Another Netanyahu term, propped up by the furthest right, makes miscalculation more likely, not less.

Second, such a government accelerates the erosion of international law and norms. Multiple Western capitals have recently signalled sharper criticism of settlement activity and trade linked to illegal settlements, with some moving toward sanctions and explicit condemnations. A Netanyahu-led right-wing bloc that doubles down on settlement expansion and resists two-state frameworks accelerates the normative drift: what was once treated as a temporary occupation increasingly looks permanent, undermining the legal and diplomatic architecture that has underpinned Middle East diplomacy for decades. When powerful states normalise facts on the ground that violate international law, it weakens the rules-based order everywhere.

Third, diplomatic isolation hurts allies as well as Israel itself. Israeli opposition figures have accused Netanyahu’s government of driving the country into “unprecedented diplomatic isolation”, citing moves such as the United Kingdom’s plan to sanction illegal settlements as evidence of a historic shift in tone. That isolation does not only affect Israel; it complicates the work of its partners, strains alliances, and narrows the space for joint initiatives on trade, technology and security. When a key partner becomes a diplomatic liability, everyone’s foreign policy becomes harder.

Fourth, Israel’s right-wing government has, in practice, bolstered far-right movements abroad, even as some of those same movements turn antisemitic or hostile to Jewish communities. The irony is dangerous: a government that presents itself as a bulwark against extremism can, through its alliances and rhetoric, help legitimise the very forces that threaten minorities and democratic norms worldwide. From Europe to the Americas, far-right parties point to Israel’s own right-wing leaders as proof that their agendas are mainstream and defensible. That is not a side effect; it is a feature of the current political moment.

Fifth, there is the question of democratic backsliding with international echoes. Netanyahu’s previous term featured sweeping judicial reforms that critics said would concentrate excessive power in the executive. A renewed mandate, especially with far-right partners, raises the risk of further institutional weakening: less judicial independence, more politicised law enforcement, and reduced checks on executive authority. Democracies are interconnected; when one backslides, it emboldens authoritarians elsewhere and dulls the collective capacity to defend democratic standards.

Some will object that this is Israel’s internal affair. It is Israel’s election, but the consequences are not contained. Settlement policy, military doctrine, peace prospects, refugee flows, energy corridors, and alliance patterns all have cross-border effects. Moreover, the precedent set by normalising extreme positions, on land, law, and minority rights, feeds into debates far beyond the Levant, from Europe to the Americas. In an era of globalised media and polarised politics, what happens in Jerusalem does not stay in Jerusalem.

There is, however, an alternative trajectory. Polls indicate a competitive race, with opposition blocs, centred on figures such as former military chief Gadi Eisenkot, within striking distance of a majority. A government less dependent on the far right could, in principle, pursue more restrained settlement policy, re-engage with diplomatic tracks, and reduce the temperature regionally. That does not guarantee peace, but it restores agency to diplomacy instead of ceding it to maximalist agendas.

Being “scared” of another Netanyahu government is not about demonising a people or denying Israel’s right to security. It is a rational response to a specific political configuration that has repeatedly shown it will prioritise short-term coalition survival over long-term stability, legal norms, and diplomatic off-ramps. For anyone who cares about regional peace, the integrity of international law, and the health of democracies worldwide, that is a legitimate and urgent worry.

The world does not need panic; it needs clarity. Clarity that another Netanyahu term, sustained by the furthest right, makes escalation more likely, peace less attainable, and the rules-based order more fragile. Clarity that supporting a different outcome in Israel is not hostility to Jews or to Israel, but a defence of the very principles, law, democracy, coexistence, that make shared security possible. In that sense, fear of another Netanyahu government is not parochial anxiety. It is a sober assessment of risk in an interconnected world.

About the Author:

Nkateko Muloiwa is a PhD candidate at the University of South Africa.

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