Israelis have gone to the poll so soon the horse-trading among parties to form a coalition government begins. This is a messy process so I would like to make a modest proposal that could save the country money, political aggravation and possibly another election.
Abolish the Knesset and replace it with a group therapy session.
The 120 members would retain their seats, although these would be rearranged in a giant circle and a psychotherapist with exceptional patience, a high tolerance for abuse and comprehensive professional indemnity insurance would replace the speaker.
This might improve the quality of Israeli political discourse much like a marriage counselor can improve a couple’s communication.
Unfortunately, it would present a formidable clinical challenge. Imagine 120 people arriving for therapy, each convinced that the other 119 are responsible for the country’s problems.
The therapist begins with a conventional question: “What brings you here today?"
Half the group points at Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.
Netanyahu points at them.
The therapist notes that the group demonstrates an excellent capacity for identifying problems in others. Insight into personal contribution to dysfunction remains limited.
In psychotherapy, externalization describes attributing problems to forces outside oneself rather than acknowledging one’s own contribution. It can protect self-esteem, reduce shameful feelings and preserve a coherent sense of identity. In politics, it is also electorally useful.
A government blames the opposition for obstructing reforms. The opposition blames the government for destroying national institutions. Religious parties blame secular politicians for attacking Jewish tradition. Secular parties blame religious politicians for imposing their beliefs upon the country. Everyone holds a persuasive account of how somebody else caused the present difficulties.
The therapist attempts a standard intervention.
“Can each of you identify one thing you personally contributed to the problem?"
Silence.
After several awkward minutes, one volunteers that his greatest mistake was trusting people who subsequently betrayed him.
Another acknowledges that he may have been overly patient with his opponents.
A third regrets not having explained his own brilliance more forcefully.
The therapist notes that many group members display an impressive willingness to accept responsibility for having been insufficiently suspicious of everybody else.
Another familiar psychological defense mechanism is splitting, which is the tendency to divide people into categories of entirely good or entirely bad rather than tolerate their complexity.
It is useful in political campaigns. Your party represents democracy, integrity and national survival. Opposing parties represent corruption, incompetence, chaos and the events foretold in Deuteronomy unfolding.
Naturally, all parties make identical claims. Splitting reduces the discomfort of ambiguity, allowing individuals to preserve their moral narratives without confronting inconvenient contradictions.
The difficulty arises when yesterday’s villain becomes tomorrow’s coalition partner.
Suddenly, the politician previously described as an existential danger is discovered to possess the admirable qualities of pragmatism and national responsibility.
Nothing about the individual has changed; only the parliamentary arithmetic has.
The therapist asks whether someone can be wrong about certain matters while being right about others. This provokes outrage and frenzied finger-waving.
One representative accuses the therapist of legitimizing atheism. Another demands an investigation into her political affiliations. A third proposes replacing her with an independent government-appointed committee.
The therapist writes that members struggle with nuanced thinking and recommends gradual exposure to the possibility that political opponents are people.
Attachment theory provides an even more entertaining framework.
Originally developed to understand relationships between infants and caregivers, attachment theory has subsequently been applied to adult relationships, particularly patterns involving security, intimacy, dependence and fear of abandonment.
Consider the anxiously attached coalition partner. This party desperately wants to participate in government but remains permanently concerned that its needs are not sufficiently appreciated. The anxiously attached party’s message is: “If you really valued me, you would demonstrate it by increasing my ministry’s budget."
Then there is the avoidantly attached party. It desires the benefits of a governing relationship without the inconvenience of meaningful commitment. It refuses to disclose its intentions, keeps alternative coalition partners available and insists that it needs space.
In ordinary relationships, this behavior may result in an unhappy breakup. In Israeli politics, it results in another election.
The therapist recommends clear communication, consistent expectations and mutual respect. Several parties demand that these principles be included in a coalition agreement and that their party be exempted because they are the only grown-ups in the room.
Projection is another useful concept.
In its classical psychoanalytic formulation, projection involves attributing to others impulses or qualities that one finds difficult to acknowledge in oneself.
Political accusations provide fertile projection ground. Every ambitios leader who wishes to become prime minister regards other ambitious leaders’ desire for the same office as evidence of dangerous personal vanity.
One politician refuses to join a coalition because its leader is obsessed with power. The leader responds that the first politician is placing personal ambition above the country. Both announce that they have acted exclusively out of concern for Israel’s future.
The therapist asks whether either might have a personal interest in becoming prime minister.
Both are deeply offended. Hurt, even.
The therapist notes that representatives identify pathological ambition and deity complexes with remarkable accuracy, provided they belong to someone else.
Healthy relationships also require boundaries. People must be able to distinguish between their own needs and those of others, negotiate disagreements and recognize that not every disappointment constitutes an intolerable violation.
The parties that received enough votes to fill 2-3 Knesset seats but didn't pass the threshold are villified by the side they damaged. A small party announces that it will not join a government unless its demands are accepted. The larger party considers those demands unreasonable but cannot govern without the smaller party’s support.
Negotiations begin. The smaller party explains that its demands are nonnegotiable. The larger party responds that it has red lines. They then spend several days discovering how flexible red lines can become when ministerial appointments are involved.
The haredi military conscription dispute provides an especially consequential example.
On October 14, Shas leader Aryeh Deri declared that his party would not support or participate in the next government unless legislation regulating the status of yeshiva students was passed.
Whatever one’s view, the negotiating structure is familiar. A party makes its participation conditional upon obtaining a major policy concession. Either it gets to bat first, or it takes its bat and ball and goes home.
Its prospective partners must decide whether accepting the demand is preferable to remaining outside government.
This is ordinary coalition politics and not evidence of anyone’s psychiatric condition.
Yet it does resemble a dysfunctional relationship in one important respect: participants may discover that their ability to maintain the relationship depends upon repeatedly surrendering positions they previously described as fundamental.
The therapist suggests distinguishing between boundaries and ultimatums, explaining that a boundary governs one’s own conduct, while an ultimatum attempts to control somebody else’s.
Several politicians frantically take notes. They have discovered new vocabulary with which to tar their opponents.
Beneath the comedy lies something profoundly serious. Israel is a society shaped by persecution, war, terrorism, displacement and the continuing consequences of October 7. Collective trauma can affect how communities interpret danger, trust institutions and respond to uncertainty.
Hypervigilance, heightened threat perception and the tendency to interpret ambiguous behavior as hostile are familiar responses to danger. Yet such reactions cannot simply be attributed to an entire nation, and genuine external threats must not be conflated with irrational fears.
Israel has real enemies. Iran is the major threat. Israel's security problems are not imaginary. Nor can disagreements about defending the country be resolved by asking politicians to become more emotionally expressive.
Nevertheless, trauma can make political compromise more difficult when disagreement becomes associated with danger, betrayal or abandonment. A politician who believes the opposing camp threatens the country’s survival is unlikely to regard negotiation as a normal democratic exercise.
For such a person, compromise can feel like surrender. The resulting discourse becomes increasingly absolutist. Every election is existential, every disagreement represents a struggle for national survival, while every concession threatens irreversible catastrophe.
There are occasions when political decisions really do carry existential consequences. The problem arises when the language of existential danger is applied indiscriminately to virtually everything.
A nation cannot conduct every political disagreement as though it were October 7.
The therapist’s challenge would be to help representatives distinguish between danger that requires action and disagreement that requires toleration.
After several exhausting sessions, the therapist introduces a simple exercise drawn from mediation communication.
Each participant must repeat the opposing party’s position in terms that the opposing party itself would recognize as fair. Not caricature it, denounce it, or explain why it is dangerous. Simply demonstrate that it has been understood.
The purpose is not to manufacture agreement but to establish whether genuine communication has occurred.
One politician makes an attempt.
“So what you are saying," he begins, “is that you hate Israel and wish to destroy everything our ancestors fought for."
The therapist intervenes.
“No. Try again."
Another participant volunteers.
“My colleague’s position is that his personal ambition is more important than national security."
The therapist closes her notebook and adjourns the session.
Therapy cannot replace elections, constitutional institutions or the compromises democratic government requires. Still, the metaphor exposes an important political truth. A functioning democracy requires citizens and leaders to tolerate disagreement without automatically converting it into a judgment about personal morality.
It requires the capacity to compromise without interpreting every concession as humiliation.
Above all, it requires recognizing that opponents may contribute to political problems without being responsible for everything wrong with the country.
On October 27, Israelis elected another 120 Knesset members. Some will form a government. Others will enter opposition. All will explain why the country’s future depends upon their particular understanding of the national interest.
Within weeks, coalition negotiations may produce another round of accusations, ultimatums and wounded indignation.
The therapist, meanwhile, will have relocated to a quiet village in Switzerland.
Her final clinical note will be brief: Treatment discontinued. Clients unable to agree on presenting problem, therapeutic goals or who should pay the bill.
Israel does not need another coalition negotiation. It needs a therapist willing to confront 120 clients who believe everybody else is the problem. Unfortunately, there is one final obstacle. The participants must agree on who chooses the therapist.
In Israel, that could require another election.