Israel's election has produced a striking absence: neither major candidate has articulated a plan for Gaza's future beyond military objectives. Benjamin Netanyahu's far-right coalition and Gadi Eisenkot's opposition Yashar party both pledge to end Hamas rule, both endorse Donald Trump's peace plan, and neither addresses the humanitarian catastrophe that has killed nearly 75,000 people and displaced close to a million. Eisenkot, the former military chief leading in polls, is positioned as the 'responsible alternative' — a restoration of international standing after three years of war. But his record tells a different story. He championed the Dahiya doctrine during the 2006 Lebanon war, advocating overwhelming force against civilian areas where militants operated. Critics argue this very doctrine has been applied across Gaza, producing the systematic destruction Palestinians now endure. On the ground, the election is barely registering against the immediacy of survival. Commercial food deliveries have been suspended for roughly a week. Flour costs more than three times its previous price. Humanitarian aid is dwindling. Families displaced to al-Mawasi in Khan Younis describe a daily calculus of water, food, and shelter that leaves no bandwidth for political hope. The Arab-led Joint List party aired a 48-second election video showing drone footage of Gaza's ruins, declaring that other parties 'want more destruction. We offer life.' But the chances of Arab parties joining an Eisenkot coalition are effectively zero, though they could offer outside support. The political structure ensures that the constituency most affected by the war has the least influence on its outcome. Palestinians interviewed describe a pattern that has calcified over decades: each new Israeli government arrives with promises, each proves worse than the last. 'Perhaps 200 trucks would be allowed into Gaza instead of 100, but that would not mean any real change in our lives,' says Haneen Hamdouna, displaced from Beit Lahia. A man postponed his son's wedding until after the election — not from hope, but fear that a far-right victory could restart active combat and force another displacement. The structural dynamic is clear: Gaza's destruction functions as domestic political currency. Both candidates compete on toughness toward Palestinians, creating a ratchet effect where each election cycle raises the floor on acceptable violence. The humanitarian crisis — 20,000 children killed since October 2023, entire neighborhoods reduced to rubble, hunger weaponized through aid restrictions — operates as background noise to an Israeli electorate focused on security and the trauma of 7 October. What emerges is a political system in which the people bearing the overwhelming cost of war have zero representation in the decision that determines whether it continues, escalates, or transforms. The election will produce a winner. It will not produce accountability.
