Early indications suggest a strong possibility that Israel's upcoming elections will bring about a change in government, with Benjamin Netanyahu and his coalition removed from power and replaced by an alternative alliance, most likely led, according to current projections, by General Gadi Eisenkot.
In Israel, where opinion polls tend to provide a reasonably accurate picture of the relative strength of the main political forces, whoever forms the next government will inevitably find himself constrained by the competing agendas of the parties making up his coalition.
Consider the prospect of Eisenkot forming a government with the parties whose support enables him to win. How much change could he realistically deliver, given that his prospective coalition is united on just one point, "No to Netanyahu," while virtually everything else remains a matter of disagreement?
Eisenkot's position would be markedly different from that of Netanyahu, who governed Israel for many years with a coalition characterized by strict loyalty to his leadership. Every partner knew that remaining in power depended on standing firmly behind Netanyahu, who, in turn, skillfully tailored Israeli policy to accommodate their political preferences and agendas.
They stood by him in every decision he made. Even when he dismissed generals and politicians who disagreed with him, his coalition provided unwavering protection, not necessarily because its members approved of his actions, but because their own political survival depended on keeping him in office.
Netanyahu succeeded in satisfying the leading figures in his coalition to such an extent that each came to feel like a prime minister within his own sphere of influence.
Bezalel Smotrich exercised real authority as finance minister while enjoying considerable influence within the Defense Ministry. Itamar Ben-Gvir, as national security minister, directed the police even in matters extending beyond their legal powers and established practices.
When Ben-Gvir stormed Al-Aqsa Mosque, for example, and attacked worshippers, damaging Israel's relations with Jordan, Netanyahu looked the other way. His silence amounted, in effect, to political cover for Ben-Gvir's conduct, because Netanyahu knew that his government could not survive if Ben-Gvir withdrew from the coalition.
Netanyahu's alliance was built on a network of mutual interests between himself and his coalition partners, giving it the cohesion and staying power needed to complete its term without losing a single day.
Eisenkot, however, would face an entirely different situation. His government's only agreed political platform would be opposition to Netanyahu.
Indeed, the seeds of future disputes among Eisenkot's prospective coalition partners have already been sown, even before the elections.
Naftali Bennett, for example, believes he has the strongest claim to the premiership, despite trailing others in the polls. After all, he has already held the position through his power-sharing arrangement with Yair Lapid. That experience gives him a credential that distinguishes him from Eisenkot, a general still relatively new to politics and government.
The same applies to Avigdor Lieberman, whose positions are even further to the right than Netanyahu's.
Lieberman, an immigrant from Russia, considers himself well qualified to become prime minister. He believes he alone can succeed Netanyahu as the leader of Israel's entire right wing, including Likud.
Nor does Lieberman lack the experience to support his ambitions. He has served as defense minister, foreign minister and in several other cabinet positions.
The struggle over who should lead the government has been postponed for now to ensure that the opposition can secure the majority needed to remove Netanyahu.
But once victory is achieved, the contest for the top position will almost certainly resume. Each coalition heavyweight will retain his own agenda, waiting for the right moment to make his move. Israeli politics has witnessed such struggles many times before.
Assuming Eisenkot wins and succeeds in forming the next government, he will face another serious challenge: how to deal with Arab lawmakers, whose votes are often the deciding factor in forming an Israeli government.
Here, the issue is not simply a collection of parliamentary votes available to the highest political bidder. Arab lawmakers have established conditions governing whom they will support and to whom they will provide a parliamentary safety net.
Among those conditions is the opening of a political path toward resolving the Palestinian question.
This may prove the most difficult demand of all, given the prevailing Zionist consensus against the establishment of a Palestinian state.
How can Eisenkot resolve this dilemma?
So far, he has kept his cards close to his chest.
Yet the calculations made before an election rarely survive unchanged once the votes have been counted. What matters during a campaign is assembling enough support to win. Afterward, the overriding priorities become forming a government and keeping it alive.
Within a few days, much of what remains uncertain will become clear, and questions that the candidates have found it necessary to avoid during the election campaign will finally demand answers.
One thing, however, is certain: change is coming.
The question is how far that change can go.
