Israel since October 7: From solidarity to deep divisions

In Israel's financial and cultural center, Tel Aviv, many of the city's skyscrapers are adorned with the Israeli flag, with two Hebrew words next to it:

Beyachad Nenatze'ach — Together, we will win.

But a closer look shows a very different picture. The city's streets are plastered with posters and ads by the families of those held hostage in Gaza, calling for a deal to bring them home — even at the price of ending the war against Hamas. These hang alongside posters of soldiers killed in the war and the demand to continue the fight until there's "absolute victory" in the names of the dead soldiers.

This contrast illustrates the current divide in Israeli society, a divide which has been shaking the country to its core: Is bringing the hostages home worth ending the war?

A society in utter shock

Already in the months prior to the October 7 attacks, Israel's society was hardly united. There had been months of protests against the right-wing government's proposed judicial reforms.

Then, Hamas' October 7 attacks resulted in the deaths of some 1,200 people, mostly civilians, and saw more than 250 being taken hostage by the Islamist group in Gaza. Hamasis considered a terrorist organization by Germany, the US, the EU and other governments.

Israeli society found itself in a state of utter shock. To many, it seemed like their government was not able to handle the crisis and many civilians took the tasks of running the country upon themselves.

Civilian emergency centers popped up, organizing anything from raising money for fighting gear for soldiers, to arranging hotels and housing for the thousands who had to flee their houses, or arranging agriculture field workers to replace the immigrant workers who had left because of the war.

In some respect, civil society and private initiatives took over the government's role, with a sense that they were the only ones who kept the country going.

Bitter divisions in Israel

One year later, there's very little left of that spirit of togetherness. The old divisions are back, though this time they revolve around the war and the hostages held in Gaza.

Eventually, supporting calls for a deal to release the hostages became synonymous with rejecting Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and his government's policies of handling the war.

Insults and attacks against family members of the hostages have become common, both on social media and on the streets, even in the form of physical attacks.

The word many have chosen to use to insult the family members was "smolanim," which means leftist, a term that's long become an insult in many parts of Israeli society.

According to many supporters of Israel's far-right government, the campaign for the release of the hostages has been taken over by elements of society that want to see the collapse of the current government.

Gil Dickmann, the cousin of murdered hostage Carmel Gat and a well-known figure in the hostages' families' campaign, posted about the comments he's been receiving on social media since his cousin's murder.

"They say I'm guilty of Carmel's murder... Carmel's death is entertaining to them and keeps generating more attacks."

Many of the comments against the hostages' families argue the campaign for their relatives' release is giving Hamas the feeling they can strengthen their demands in the negotiations with Israel.

According to Dickmann, such comments serve one man: Prime Minister Netanyahu.

"It's violence operated by the government's arms against the hostages' families," he said.

What's left to agree on?

Shmuel Rosner is a pollster and a journalist with the Israeli Public Broadcasting Corporation.

In his podcast, Rosner discussed what he called a "sphere of agreement," which is the level to which Israelis from different political sides are able to agree with each other on basic issues.

The fundamental questions which define such a sphere, said Rosner, have changed since October 7.

He explained that the Hamas attacks made it obvious for many Israelis that the presence of the Israeli army in the West Bank and Gaza was necessary for the country's security. That means the country's occupation of the West Bank, considered illegal under international law, is being seen as a necessity by a larger part of the public than before October 7.

On the other, he said, the war gave radical groups in Israeli society the possibility of legitimizing certain ideas which previously had been taboo.

One such example, he said, is the so-called transfer, the forced migration of Palestinians from the whole territory from the Jordan River to the Mediterranean Sea.

"Such ideas were previously on the fringes of Israeli society, and they've now become legitimate for talking about."

The result, according to Rosner, is the recurrence of conflicts many Israelis thought were behind them.

"This makes it more difficult to create a sphere of agreement."

Israelis don't feel safe

After a year that included Israel's worst terrorist attack ever, the war with Hamas in Gaza, the many hostages still being held by Hamas, tens of thousands of Israelis not being able to return home in the country's north and a seemingly inevitable war with Hezbollah in Lebanon, there is one key question: Do Israelis feel safer about how their government is dealing with the situation?

A September 2024 poll by Israel's Institute for National Security Studies showed that's hardly the case.

According to the poll, 31% of Israelis feel a "low" or "very low" sense of security, while only 21% said they feel their sense of security was "high" or "very high."

The number of Israelis leaving the country had been on the rise even before October 7, with official statistics by Israel's Central Bureau of Statistics showing that more Israelis left the country in 2023 in comparison to 2022. Preliminary numbers for 2024 show the numbers rising even more.

Yet amid the political messaging and heated debates, Tel Aviv's streets are also full of smaller, less visible stickers. They show faces, names and stories. They are the faces of those killed on October 7 or during the war in Gaza. 

Their stories might be the last thing Israeli society has left to rally around.

Edited by: Andreas Illmer