Bye, Bye Bibi: Is the Game up for Israel’s Netanyahu? 

A woman holds a sign reading "destruction" in Hebrew with a drawing depicting Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, as Israeli anti-government protesters attend a four-day sit-in near the parliament in Jerusalem on April 2, 2024, calling for the dissolution of the government and the return of Israelis held hostage in Gaza since the October 7 attacks by Hamas. (AFP)
A woman holds a sign reading "destruction" in Hebrew with a drawing depicting Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, as Israeli anti-government protesters attend a four-day sit-in near the parliament in Jerusalem on April 2, 2024, calling for the dissolution of the government and the return of Israelis held hostage in Gaza since the October 7 attacks by Hamas. (AFP)
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Bye, Bye Bibi: Is the Game up for Israel’s Netanyahu? 

A woman holds a sign reading "destruction" in Hebrew with a drawing depicting Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, as Israeli anti-government protesters attend a four-day sit-in near the parliament in Jerusalem on April 2, 2024, calling for the dissolution of the government and the return of Israelis held hostage in Gaza since the October 7 attacks by Hamas. (AFP)
A woman holds a sign reading "destruction" in Hebrew with a drawing depicting Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, as Israeli anti-government protesters attend a four-day sit-in near the parliament in Jerusalem on April 2, 2024, calling for the dissolution of the government and the return of Israelis held hostage in Gaza since the October 7 attacks by Hamas. (AFP)

Benjamin Netanyahu, Israel’s longest serving prime minister, has been written off many times before.

But with thousands of protesters on the streets every night this week demanding he resign, and growing anger at his handling of the war in Gaza, many wonder how long the veteran political escapologist can survive.

The usually bullish Netanyahu, 74, appears both physically and politically fragile.

Deeply unpopular -- no more than four percent of Israelis trust him, according to one poll late last year -- the war in Gaza is taking its toll on the man Israelis call Bibi.

Visibly frail and sallow, he was short-tempered and distracted during a television speech Saturday which his former minister and Likud colleague Limor Livnat called "catastrophic".

The left-wing daily Haaretz said he looked "like a frightened tyrant".

Netanyahu was even more gaunt when he left hospital in Jerusalem Tuesday after a hernia operation only to have to face the ire of the international community after an Israeli strike killed seven aid workers for a US-based group in Gaza.

"It happens in war," Netanyahu said with a tact which may not have been appreciated in the White House, which said it was "heartbroken" at the deaths.

"Netanyahu has been buried politically many times before and bounced back," said Emmanuel Navon, a former Likud member and political science professor.

"But this time is different because of October 7. It is not the same country. It's over for Bibi.

"He is 74, doesn't do any exercise, has a very hard job and he had a pacemaker put in six months ago."

Blamed for October 7 'disaster'

But Navon doubts Netanyahu will be forced from office by the new wave of mass street protests despite the fury of the hostages' families.

Einav Zangauker, the mother of one of the 134 still held in Gaza, branded him a "pharaoh, a slayer of first-borns" at Tuesday night's rally outside parliament in Jerusalem, the fourth consecutive night of protests.

They have seen hostage families uniting with anti-government demonstrators who spent nine months on the streets last year trying to stop controversial judicial reforms pushed by Netanyahu's far-right allies.

The "disaster" of October 7 would have killed off any other politician. But Navon compared Netanyahu's hold over the ruling Likud party to Donald Trump's over US Republicans.

"Likud lawmakers are petrified to be penalized in the next primaries by the 'Trio' -- Bibi, his wife and his son who decide everything," said the professor at Tel Aviv University.

"Peoples' political lives depend on him. He has surfed populism, his candidates now tend to be conspiracy theory wackos. It is not the same party of 20 years ago."

Divide and rule

With his coalition reeling from crisis to crisis, enemies seem to be circling as never before around the leader of Israel's most right-wing government ever.

Prosecutors are pushing ahead with a corruption trial against him despite the war, and protesters tried to break through police barriers to get to his home on Tuesday for the second time in four days.

Even his defense minister, Likud stalwart Yoav Gallant, is defying him over the deeply divisive issue of ultra-Orthodox Jews escaping compulsory military service even as the war in Gaza rages and another looms with Iran-backed Hezbollah in Lebanon.

Netanyahu has long relied on the support of religious parties to govern.

"Excusing a whole community when the military needs so much more manpower is unforgivable," General Reuven Benkler told AFP at an anti-government rally Monday.

The 65-year-old came out of retirement to serve in the north after the Hamas attack which resulted in 1,160 deaths in Israel, mostly civilians, according to an AFP tally of Israeli official figures.

Israel's retaliatory campaign has killed at least 32,916 people, mostly women and children, according to the health ministry in Hamas-run Gaza.

Benkler said the "hostages will not come home while Bibi is still in power", adding that Netanyahu was dragging out the war in Gaza to prolong his rule -- a claim endlessly repeated at the protests.

"He doesn't give a damn about anyone else apart from himself."

Netanyahu's three-decade hold over Israeli politics was based on divide and rule, Navon said. And his claim that only he could keep the country safe, October 7 shattered that.

His promise of elections in 2026 was "delusional", the analyst said. "But protesters' demands for them now are also unrealistic. The end of the year when the war has been won in Gaza and the north is more likely," he added.

On Tuesday night, hostage mother Zangauker accused Netanyahu of letting Israel's guard fall, declaring at a mass protest to thunderous cheers: "It's all your fault -- 240 were kidnapped on your watch."

"You nurtured and raised Hamas," she added, and yet "you call us traitors (for protesting during a war) when you are the traitor."



Syrians Integrated in Germany Face Uncertainty Over Return

Former German Chancellor Angela Merkel and Anas Modamani, one of Germany’s most well-known Syrian refugees (Getty Images)
Former German Chancellor Angela Merkel and Anas Modamani, one of Germany’s most well-known Syrian refugees (Getty Images)
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Syrians Integrated in Germany Face Uncertainty Over Return

Former German Chancellor Angela Merkel and Anas Modamani, one of Germany’s most well-known Syrian refugees (Getty Images)
Former German Chancellor Angela Merkel and Anas Modamani, one of Germany’s most well-known Syrian refugees (Getty Images)

Twelve years after his famous selfie with then-German Chancellor Angela Merkel, Anas Modamani, one of Germany’s most well-known Syrian refugees, appears at ease in his adopted homeland.

At the time, Modamani had no idea who Merkel was when he snapped the photo during her visit to the asylum center where he was staying. Today, however, he feels as deeply connected to Germany as he does to his homeland, Syria.

Modamani, like many Syrians who fled to Germany after the 2011 uprising, faces a tough decision: stay in Germany or return to Syria.

With hopes of a post-Assad era, Modamani, originally from Daraya near Damascus, plans to visit his family in Syria and help rebuild their home.

“I want to split my time between Germany and Syria and start projects in both countries,” he told Asharq Al-Awsat.

“Damascus is the most beautiful city on earth, but I love Germany, and Berlin is my second home.”

Modamani has fully embraced life in Germany, learning the language, gaining citizenship, joining the workforce, and building a relationship with Anna, a Ukrainian woman.

His German passport makes it easier to plan trips back to Syria without worrying about losing his residency or legal status in Germany.

Modamani is among nearly 260,000 Syrian refugees who have obtained German citizenship. However, more than 700,000 Syrians in Germany remain on asylum or temporary protection permits—status that could be revoked if conditions in Syria improve.

The shifting situation in Damascus has left Syrian refugees and German authorities in limbo. Decisions on 47,000 migration applications from Syrians have been paused as officials wait for more clarity.

Germany’s asylum policies were based on fears of war and persecution. With those fears easing after the fall of Assad, the legal basis for granting protection may no longer exist.

The uncertainty has sparked political debate. Some politicians, including Social Democrats in the ruling government, have called for changes to asylum rules.

Interior Minister Nancy Faeser suggested keeping refugees who are integrated or employed while deporting others.

Talk of deporting Syrian refugees in Germany seems tied to the upcoming February 23 elections.

While temporary residency permits can be revoked, Syria must first be declared “safe and stable” by the Foreign Ministry—a process that could take years.

Even with delays in Germany labeling Syria “safe,” most Syrian refugees show little interest in returning. Before Assad’s fall, 94% said they wanted to stay, according to the Federal Office for Migration and Refugees.

The longer refugees live in Germany, the stronger their ties become. Many arrived over five years ago, with some having spent a decade in the country.

Siamand Osman, a Syrian Kurdish refugee from Qamishli, has been in Germany for 11 years. He learned the language, gained citizenship, and built a life, even though most of his family remains in Syria. For now, he has no plans to go back.

Osman told Asharq Al-Awsat that the situation in Kurdish areas of Syria is still unstable.

“I want to return—my family is there—but I hope all sides in Syria can agree and bring peace to our region,” he said.

Osman’s biggest fear is the return of war.

“Imagine leaving everything behind, selling my belongings, and going back to Syria, only to have the war start again and force me to flee once more,” he says. Despite this, he is determined to return when the situation improves.

Economic instability is another key factor contributing to Syrians’ reluctance to return home. Alaa Muhrez, who arrived in Germany in 2015, explained that the economic situation in Syria plays a significant role in her decision.

She told Asharq Al-Awsat that she “rebuilt her life from scratch.”

After learning the language and training in her profession as an accountant, Muhrez is now working in her field and has gained German citizenship.

Despite her strong optimism for Syria’s future, Muhrez, originally from Homs, remains cautious about the situation there and the country’s potential trajectory in the coming years.

She fears leaving her job and home in Berlin, only to return to Syria and struggle to find suitable employment.

For Syrian families, the decision to stay or return is even more difficult. Many arrived with children who have forgotten Arabic and spent years learning German.

Anas Fahd, from Sweida, came to Germany almost three years ago with his family and teenage son. He still holds a temporary protection permit and works as an electrical engineer.

“It’s too early to decide about returning,” Fahd told Asharq Al-Awsat. His son has been learning German for a year and is doing well in school in Berlin. “It would be hard to send him back to Syria, where he’d have to waste another year relearning Arabic.”

Even newcomers like Basel Hussein, who arrived in Berlin on the day Assad fell, have no plans to go back. Hussein, who paid over 13,000 euros to be smuggled into Germany, says he won’t return now.

“The situation is still unclear with new decisions every day,” Hussein said. “I’d rather start fresh in Germany than return to an uncertain future in Syria.”

It’s not only Syrians who are hesitant to return—many Germans worry about losing a key part of the workforce, especially those filling important roles.

Over 5,000 Syrian doctors work in German hospitals, making them the largest group of foreign doctors. Many others work in sectors with labor shortages, like nursing, construction, and hospitality.

It takes an average of seven years for Syrians to enter the labor market as they learn the language and validate their qualifications. Syrians are filling vital roles, but unemployment remains high, particularly for women.

Unions representing doctors and workers have warned against calls for quick deportations, fearing it could harm the labor market.

Manfred Lucha, health minister in Baden-Württemberg, where many Syrian doctors work, warned that if they leave, it would create a huge gap in the healthcare sector. The state’s hospital association also said losing Syrian healthcare workers would be a significant blow.