In a wide-ranging ECPS interview, Ben-Gurion University scholar Halleli Pinson argues that Israel’s Gaza policy is intertwined with an illiberal turn at home. “The polarization we saw before October 7 around judicial reform,” she notes, “is now translated into how people understand the war and the hostages,” adding that “the continuation of the war serves this broader agenda… to reconstruct the Israeli regime into an illiberal one.”Dr. Pinson details how curricula sideline liberal democracy while NGOs and academics face a shrinking space for dissent. Media framings and social media echo chambers deepen an “epistemic polarization.” Though anti-war discourse is growing, she warns that animosities are hardening: “It may take a generation to shift the discourse toward a more liberal, mainstream orientation.”
Interview by Selcuk Gultasli
The ongoing Gaza war has not only reshaped regional geopolitics but has also profoundly transformed Israel’s political culture, educational discourse, and democratic institutions. In this exclusive interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Associate Professor Halleli Pinson, a political sociologist of education at Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, provides a compelling analysis of the interplay between right-wing populism, illiberalism, and knowledge production in Israel, revealing how the conflict intersects with broader ideological projects.
At the heart of her argument lies a critical assessment of the government’s use of the war to advance structural political changes. As Dr. Pinson observes, “The polarization that we experienced in the year and a half before October 7th around the judicial reform is, in a sense, translated into how people understand the government’s policy regarding the war and the hostages.” She highlights a direct link between the government’s attacks on democratic institutions — such as the Supreme Court and the Attorney General — and its broader populist strategy: “The continuation of the war serves this broader agenda, attempting, in a way, to reconstruct the Israeli regime into an illiberal one.”
For Dr. Pinson, this illiberal turn is deeply embedded in Israel’s educational and discursive transformation. Over the past decade and a half, she argues, populist discourse has profoundly reshaped curricula, civic education, and public understanding of democracy. Discussions of liberal values, multiculturalism, and human rights are increasingly sidelined, while “illiberal democratic models” are emphasized. As she explains, Israel is being redefined “as primarily Jewish first and democratic only when it aligns with that identity,” a shift that has normalized the erasure of the Green Line and reframed settlements as integral parts of Israel.
The interview also delves into the shrinking space for dissent in both schools and universities. NGOs like Breaking the Silence and other human rights groups are excluded from classrooms, while academics face growing pressures under proposed legislation that would allow universities to dismiss professors “accused of supporting terrorism” — a definition so vague, Dr. Pinson warns, that “saying that there is starvation in Gaza or standing with photographs of children who lost their lives could be considered as support for terrorism.”
Finally, Dr. Pinson reflects on Israel’s fractured society and the growing epistemic polarization intensified by the war. While public criticism of the government has increased, she is concerned about entrenched animosities: “The level of hatred being cultivated between camps is deeply concerning… I’m not very optimistic, and I believe it’s going to take a generation to shift the discourse toward a more liberal, mainstream orientation.”
This conversation offers an essential lens for understanding how the Gaza war intersects with Israel’s democratic backsliding, populist rhetoric, and societal divides.
Here is the transcript of our interview with Associate Professor Halleli Pinson, edited lightly for readability.
Populist Discourse Is Reshaping Education and Normalizing the Occupation
Professor Pinson, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: How has the rise of right-wing populism in Israel shaped curriculum design, educational policy, and civic education? In what ways does this curricular engineering affect how younger generations understand Gaza, Palestinian society, and the broader conflict?
Associate Professor Halleli Pinson: Let me start by saying that populist discourse over the past decade, or even longer, has significantly influenced curriculum and educational discourse — not only in high schools and schools in general but also within higher education institutions. While it is somewhat speculative to assess precisely how this shapes views of Gaza, I can offer a few examples of how such populist discourse has manifested in the field of education. For instance, just this week we learned that the civic education curriculum — specifically the matriculation exam for next year — will exclude discussions of liberal democracy, human rights, and related topics. Although it does not explicitly state that these subjects are being removed from the curriculum, the Ministry of Education sets annual focus areas, and this year, these topics have simply been omitted from that focus.
On the other hand, when it comes to defining Israel as a Jewish state, its commitment to the Jewish people, and other models of democracy referenced in textbooks or the curriculum — what I would term “illiberal democratic models” — these are increasingly emphasized at the expense of discussions on liberal democracy, multiculturalism, civil rights, and human rights. This reflects the particular type of populism characteristic of Israel, which prioritizes defining Israel as a Jewish state rather than as a democratic one, effectively reducing its democratic nature to a very thin model of democracy. These changes are consistently reflected in school curricula.
I would argue that this shift — from understanding Israel as both Jewish and democratic, or democratic and Jewish, to viewing it as primarily Jewish first and democratic only when it aligns with that identity — has, over the past decade and a half, become fully normalized within educational discourse and the production of knowledge in education. It began with significant changes to the civic curriculum but extended further, such as the complete erasure of the Green Line from geography and history textbooks, effectively normalizing settlements in the West Bank as integral parts of Israel.
I am quite certain that if you asked the average high school student in Israel, or even an undergraduate, many would neither know where the Green Line is nor recognize that places like Ariel are located in occupied territory. They are unlikely to use the language of “occupied territories” or acknowledge that understanding at all. In my generation, people debated whether Israel should continue the occupation or not, but it was at least understood as an open question. Today, however, the occupation has been so normalized that most people no longer perceive it as occupation. This, without doubt, has significant ramifications for how the conflict in Gaza — and the ongoing war there — is understood and discussed, if at all, in education today.
Shrinking Space for Dissent: Populism Redraws the Boundaries of Legitimate Discourse
The exclusion of NGOs such as Breaking the Silence and growing pressures on left-leaning academics point to shrinking intellectual pluralism. To what extent do these measures reflect a broader populist strategy to control knowledge production and suppress dissent?
Associate Professor Halleli Pinson: I want to broaden the discussion beyond knowledge production to consider how actions such as the exclusion of NGOs like Breaking the Silence, the Forum for Grieving Families, and other left-wing or human rights organizations from schools reflect a broader process. I see this as part of a deliberate redrawing of the boundaries of legitimate discourse within the Israeli education system. It is not only about knowledge production itself, which primarily occurs through curriculum design, but also about the types of discourse and political perspectives to which students are exposed. In this regard, the boundaries have been significantly reshaped — a process that began before October 7th but has deepened even more profoundly over the past two years.
Several practices are being employed by right-wing populist organizations and politicians. The first is portraying groups like Breaking the Silence as “traitors.” Especially during wartime, they are framed as supporters or enablers of terrorism. In such an environment, if you do not want to be associated with terrorism, you are compelled to distance yourself from these discourses. This is not only about shifting the boundaries of discourse but also about redefining what is considered legitimate political conversation within schools — what you are allowed to question and what you are not.
To illustrate, I’ll give an example from the last two weeks. A group of school principals and high school teachers published a video calling for an end to the war, criticizing the government’s policies, and expressing concern over the humanitarian crisis and death toll in Gaza, as well as demanding the release of hostages. Following the video, about 20 principals were summoned to the Ministry of Education for what was essentially a disciplinary warning, even though it was not an official hearing. They were cautioned that they had crossed the boundaries of what is considered permissible for educators to say. The same applied to teachers.
Then, on September 1st — the first day of the school year in Israel — students at several schools organized a strike calling for an end to the war, the release of hostages, and an end to the suffering in Gaza. The response from Education Minister Yoav Kish was twofold. First, he instructed schools to mark these students as absent in their personal files, introducing a punitive element. Second, he publicly addressed the striking students, accusing them of jeopardizing national unity and being divisive.
From my perspective, as someone who studies the effects of populism on both schools and higher education, this demonstrates how the space for criticism and democratic discourse is constantly shrinking. A year ago, it was more mainstream to discuss the hostages openly. Now, combining discussions about hostages with calls to end the war is framed as crossing the boundaries of legitimate discourse established by the Ministry of Education.
This extends beyond schools to higher education institutions. Less than two weeks ago, during a nationwide strike organized by the campaign to end the war and release the hostages, many university professors — including heads of major Israeli universities — declared they would personally participate. The Minister of Education responded by instructing the Ministry of Finance to dock their pay for the day of the strike.
These measures, especially when directed at principals and teachers who are more vulnerable than university professors, create a powerful chilling effect on critical discourse and dissent within Israel’s educational system.
Public Opinion Shifts, but Denial and Division Persist
How has Israeli public opinion evolved throughout the Gaza war, and to what extent do these shifts reflect deeper sociopolitical cleavages within Israeli society—such as ethnic, ideological, or generational divides?
Associate Professor Halleli Pinson: This is a very good question, and there has indeed been some evolution in how the Israeli public responds to the war. To some extent, there is a change, and I’ll try to explain what I mean by that. The war itself is now more heavily criticized. A large part of the Israeli Jewish population, according to public polls, seems to understand that the continuation of the war is political, serving the interests of the current government, and particularly Benjamin Netanyahu. In this sense, there has been an evolution.
A year ago, or even right after October 7th, the majority of the Israeli public believed the war was justified — that it was the only solution and what needed to be done. Now, however, there is a more critical understanding of the continuation of the war. People are increasingly critical of the burden that many reserve soldiers are paying as the price of sustaining it, and there is a deep concern about the fate of the hostages as the conflict drags on. In that sense, there has been a significant shift in public opinion.
But what hasn’t changed much, or not to the same extent, is the ability of the Israeli public to actually understand, acknowledge, or be critical of what’s happening in Gaza. I think Jewish-Israeli public opinion can be divided into groups — setting aside those on the far right who openly support the continuation of Gaza’s destruction and even talk about plans such as building a Riviera there once they “get rid of everyone.” For the majority, however, there is either complete denial of what’s happening in Gaza or apathy toward it.
In that respect, I’m not sure how much public opinion has truly changed. There are cracks, yes — more attempts by left-wing activists and organizations to bring the issues of starvation, rising death tolls, and widespread destruction into the public sphere. But there is also widespread disbelief, with some dismissing reports about starvation as “AI-generated” or fake, while others say, “Yes, it’s regrettable, but it’s their fault because of October 7th.” Some express even harsher views, saying, “After October 7th, I lost all ability to be compassionate about the other side.”
For me, this is extremely difficult to hear and accept, but I think it reflects ongoing processes in Israeli society that began long before October 7th and whose consequences we are now witnessing.
I would also say there’s a strong correlation between the people who, before October 7th, were out on the streets protesting the judicial overhaul and the actions of the current government against the Supreme Court and other democratic gatekeepers, and those who are now protesting the continuation of the war. But it’s important to note that many of these protesters are not necessarily motivated by concern for the humanitarian crisis in Gaza; rather, they oppose the war because they believe it harms Israel’s own interests, undermines its security, and jeopardizes its democracy.
Competing Truths and Growing Epistemic Polarization
To what degree has the Israeli media ecosystem—spanning state-controlled outlets, private mainstream channels, and social media—contributed to the construction of competing “truth regimes” around the Gaza war? Are we witnessing a process of epistemic polarization that reshapes how different publics understand the conflict?
Associate Professor Halleli Pinson: Let’s start with the mainstream media. The mainstream media has completely failed in its role of exposing the Israeli public to the full picture of what’s going on, including the costs for everyone. For the better part of at least the first year and a half, there were very rarely any reports about what was happening in Gaza. And, when there were reports from Gaza, they were almost always from the perspective of the soldiers. You’d have a reporter or reporters joining one of the units serving in Gaza — Israeli journalists — and all of this was always coordinated by the IDF spokesperson unit. As a result, the majority of the Israeli public was not really exposed to what was actually happening in Gaza. Even now, when there is a bit more discussion and slightly greater exposure, it is still presented in a very limited way and within a very specific narrative that avoids placing any blame on the actions of Israel.
So, just to give you an example — I don’t remember the exact phrasing, but when the international reports about starvation in Gaza started to appear, one of the Israeli channels — I think it was Channel 13 — reported, kind of “revealing” that the majority of the children who died of starvation had pre-medical conditions that probably contributed to them dying from starvation. The way it was framed, it was like, “Hey, here we reveal the big lie. There is no starvation; people are not dying of starvation in Gaza. Actually, those who died from starvation were dying because they had pre-medical conditions.” And that was, in a way, saying to the Israeli public, “Hey, look, it’s not our fault.”
When it comes to social media, I sometimes feel almost like I’m in my own bubble because this is the way social media works. So, I see reports of the destruction in Gaza — and I’m exposed to this sort of information, and the majority of my social media friends, followers, or the people I follow are in agreement with me. But when you look a bit outside, you’ll see — and I’ve heard it from people at the university whom I would consider smart, critical people — they’ll say, “This is fake news; this is AI. The whole starvation photographs are all AI-generated. There’s no real starvation.”
There’s great disbelief in the reports coming from Gaza and a lack of critical questioning, like, “How come we don’t get independent reports from Gaza, for instance?” This is a question I’d like my students to ask — why we don’t know. And so, this is something where we see a great epistemic crisis, in a sense, or polarization between those who are 100% aware and exposed to what’s going on in Gaza and what’s going on in the rest of the world, and, on the other hand, those who are kind of completely blind or in denial about what’s going on.
I’ll just give you an example. This polarization is also visible in political activism in the streets. In the past several months, there’s been an initiative in Tel Aviv during the big weekly demonstration — the one for the release of the hostages and against the continuation of the war. There’s a growing group of people who stand with photographs of children who were killed in Gaza. And this is amidst a crowd that’s there to say they’re against the war. In that instance, I think it made people think and reflect, like, “Okay, maybe it’s not just our suffering.”
But when this sort of vigil went to other parts of the city — not during the weekly demonstration — and I stood in those vigils, the level of contempt and hatred it attracted was intense because it put a mirror in front of people in Israel. We were standing with photographs of children, and the responses would be either disbelief or accusations: “You’re Hamas supporters.” Or, “Well, even if they are children, they’ll grow up to be Nukhba (the special forces unit of Al-Qassam Brigades, the military wing of Hamas) and they’ll do the next massacre.”
So, again, there’s this movement between denial and justification, for lack of a better word. And I’ll give you another example. There’s also a campaign against starvation, which is, again, a vigil where we stand holding empty pots and pans in the street. There was a video released two days ago of about 15 chefs and restaurateurs standing with empty pots and pans and calling for an end to starvation. This was just two days ago. The chefs of these restaurants have been under attack for the last two or three days. Their Google rankings dropped because people are condemning them. Again, anything you say that expresses concern and empathy is immediately — in the public discourse, even among those who object to the war — seen as coming at the expense of caring for the hostages or “our own kind.” It is immediately framed as, “You support the other side.” So, again, there’s this sense that you cannot be compassionate toward both.
From Judicial Reform to Gaza: Populism Driving Israel’s Illiberal Turn
Massive protests against Netanyahu’s government predated the Gaza war but have intersected with it in complex ways. How do these demonstrations reveal competing conceptions of democracy in Israel, and do they indicate a growing rift between state policy and societal norms?
Associate Professor Halleli Pinson: The short answer is definitely yes. You can clearly see the polarization — and I mentioned it before — that we experienced in the year and a half before October 7th around the judicial reform being, in a sense, translated into how people understand the government’s policy regarding the war and the hostages. There are also many connections being made between the government’s attacks on the Supreme Court, the Attorney General, and other democratic institutions, and how the continuation of the war serves this broader agenda, attempting, in a way, to reconstruct the Israeli regime into an illiberal one.
Going back to populism and the first question you asked me, we can see that many of the justifications the government uses draw directly on this populist discourse of “us against them,” “the will of the people,” “the true people,” and identifying those who are singled out as the “enemy within” or the “objective enemy,” and so on. These sorts of practices are used both in the context of the judicial reform and in justifying the continuation of the war.
The Catch-22 of International Boycotts
How does international criticism—including accusations of genocide by prominent scholars and institutions—shape Israeli public opinion and elite discourse? Do external pressures generate defensive consolidation around government narratives, or do they stimulate critical reflexivity among Israeli publics?
Associate Professor Halleli Pinson: This is something that I find very difficult to respond to. First, I would focus even more on the calls for an academic boycott of Israel. And let me say, to begin with, that I understand why people — my colleagues in other places around the world, university students, or academic associations — feel that they need to do something about what’s going on in Gaza. Whatever label we put on it, genocide or not, what’s going on in Gaza is on a scale that is unimaginable, and I wouldn’t like to see people being silenced globally in the face of what’s happening there.
But then, when I look at how this sort of criticism is being perceived in Israel, it’s more complex than that, and the political effectiveness of such measures is problematic. Just to explain, there’s a sort of Catch-22. I spoke about how Israeli media and the Israeli public perceive what’s going on in Gaza and about the movement of the majority of the public between denial, apathy, and justification — but with little, if any, self-reflection or sense of responsibility.
When this narrative is so strong — and it is a very strong narrative, even among those who oppose the continuation of the war — then, when people, organizations, or states call for sanctioning or boycotting Israel, the way it’s interpreted is: “Okay, here again, this is another proof that the world is against us.”
I had numerous conversations with people whom I greatly respect, and they would say things like, “Israel is being held to higher standards, and this is why we are attacked,” and, of course, they argue that this is no more than another expression of anti-Semitism. So, these are the sorts of ways this is perceived among the Israeli public. I’m not necessarily saying that people who oppose the government or Netanyahu will rally around him, but it is definitely not perceived as something helpful in terms of shaping public opinion or making people in Israel more aware or more reflective about their role or responsibility.
When it comes to the academic boycott — and this is, again, something I feel uneasy saying because, obviously, I am directly affected as an Israeli academic — I can only reflect on my own experience. I would say that, in a way, Israeli universities, and especially professors in the social sciences and humanities, have been targeted by the government for at least the past decade and a half. We’re being portrayed either as “the enemy within” or directly targeted through legislative measures intended to narrow or restrict the boundaries of legitimate discourse and sanction academics.
There is one very important piece of legislation currently under discussion — it has already passed its first reading in the Knesset — which states that universities will have to fire, without any due process, any professor accused of supporting terrorism. On the face of it, it sounds like, “Okay, of course, no country can allow anyone who supports terrorism to teach in a university.” But the way it’s framed in this legislation is problematic. First, it’s important to note that it essentially seeks to change the legislation around the autonomy of the Council of Higher Education, which is, in itself, a very problematic and populist move, taking a page out of Orbán’s book in Hungary. But basically, it doesn’t define what “supporting terrorism” means. And in the eyes of the government, as I explained before, saying that there is starvation in Gaza or standing with photographs of children who lost their lives in Gaza is considered support for terrorism. So, if this legislation passes, someone from a right-wing organization could accuse me — Halleli Pinson — of supporting terrorism, and the university would be obliged to fire me without compensation, without my pension. And if the university refuses to fire me, the government would cut its funding.
This legislation hasn’t fully passed yet, and it probably won’t pass in its harshest form, but even in its current form, it has a chilling effect. And again, right-wing organizations like Im Tirtzu and others are actively targeting university professors — not just for what we teach or don’t teach in the classroom, but also, not in my case personally, for what we post on our Facebook pages, demanding that universities fire professors who “don’t say the right thing.”
There’s also similar legislation being discussed to restrict student activities, which, of course, puts Palestinian professors and students at even greater risk than people like me who are identified as left-wing. So, I’m saying all this to explain that, in a way, it feels like, in the past year, we are being attacked by our colleagues abroad for not taking enough action or responsibility, and the calls for boycotting are growing stronger and stronger. But at the same time, I’m not sure the international community fully understands that we are also being attacked from within for speaking out about what’s going on in Gaza.
I’m not sure that boycotting us will actually make a difference in terms of policy because this government already has its vendetta against universities to begin with. And definitely, if I have less power within Israel and also have to worry about my collaborations outside Israel, then my ability to influence change becomes questionable — whether it grows or is, in fact, reduced. And I think that’s the Catch-22 here, which is problematic when it comes to calls for boycotting and sanctioning Israel. The real question is whether it’s effective — and I’m not sure that it is.
Gaza War Deepens Divides, A Generation Needed for Democratic Renewal
And lastly, Professor Pinson, looking beyond the immediate conflict, how might the Gaza war transform Israeli political culture, intergroup relations, and trust in democratic institutions? Do you foresee the entrenchment of a security-oriented populist paradigm, or is there potential for societal reimagining and reconciliation?
Associate Professor Halleli Pinson: I would say that I’m very much encouraged by the growing discourse in Israel against the war, and this is something that has been evolving over the past six months, or even more, over the past year. But I’m quite certain that, at some point, the war will end, as wars tend to. However, the damage being done to Israeli society internally is profound — both in terms of what has already happened and what is yet to come. Will people actually realize what has been going on in Gaza, come to terms with it, or will denial no longer be possible?
There is also the deepening rift that has been created, which is becoming even more pronounced, between those who support the continuation of the war and those who don’t — between the heads of the right-wing parties and their supporters, on the one hand, and segments of the more mainstream public on the other. The level of animosity and hatred that is, in a sense, being cultivated between these two camps is deeply concerning.
So, I’m not very optimistic, and I believe it’s going to take a generation to shift the discourse toward a more liberal, mainstream orientation.
