What is that old saw? Put two Israelis in a room and you get nine opinions on any given issue. This alleged truism, wrapped up in marginally amusing Borscht Belt humor, is intended to convey something both exasperating and heartwarming about Israeli society.
It is true that Israel is a polarized country and social trust has deteriorated, but on a variety of issues, from the prosaic to the consequential, Israelis seem to agree on quite a lot these days. Based on the 12 days that took me back and forth between Tel Aviv and Jerusalem recently, and to several points in between, here’s my non-scientific read on Israeli public opinion: Everyone hates the endless road construction in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem; most people believe that the Haredim (or ultra-Orthodox), who have traditionally been exempt from enlisting in the Israeli army so they can devote their lives to religious studies, must start serving or get off the government dole; and a consensus has formed around the so-called yellow line in Gaza and why Israeli troops are likely to stay on that line for a while. More on that in a minute.
What is that old saw? Put two Israelis in a room and you get nine opinions on any given issue. This alleged truism, wrapped up in marginally amusing Borscht Belt humor, is intended to convey something both exasperating and heartwarming about Israeli society.
It is true that Israel is a polarized country and social trust has deteriorated, but on a variety of issues, from the prosaic to the consequential, Israelis seem to agree on quite a lot these days. Based on the 12 days that took me back and forth between Tel Aviv and Jerusalem recently, and to several points in between, here’s my non-scientific read on Israeli public opinion: Everyone hates the endless road construction in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem; most people believe that the Haredim (or ultra-Orthodox), who have traditionally been exempt from enlisting in the Israeli army so they can devote their lives to religious studies, must start serving or get off the government dole; and a consensus has formed around the so-called yellow line in Gaza and why Israeli troops are likely to stay on that line for a while. More on that in a minute.
But above all, there is broad agreement on the righteousness of Israel’s cause after the war that Hamas started on Oct. 7, 2023, and the need to prevent the establishment of a Palestinian state, lest it be used to try to destroy Israel. That’s why there was a mild freak out among some Israeli politicians about the language in the United Nations Security Council’s Resolution 2803, which states that after Donald Trump’s 20-point plan to end the Gaza conflict is fulfilled, “the conditions may finally be in place for a credible pathway to Palestinian self-determination and statehood.” Former Prime Minister Naftali Bennett, who wants his old job back, appeared to call the resolution “Oslo on steroids.”
Bennett’s criticism was largely performative and wasted energy, however. Israelis tend to agree that Trump’s plan will never get to critical point number 19 that recognizes the Palestinian aspiration for statehood, highlighting that Hamas is—and has been from the very start—in violation of the agreement. They are angry that Hamas has yet to hand over the bodies of two hostages still in Gaza and have the increasingly exasperated view that the group, with the help of Qatar and Turkey, hoodwinked Trump into believing that it would agree to disarm. Which is why the Israeli military is digging in along the yellow line that now divides the Gaza Strip between eastern and western sectors—one controlled by Israel with 53 percent of the territory, the other by Hamas. At some points it’s placing military markers even beyond the line.
But here’s the problem: If the existing status quo in Gaza is allowed to become the long-term status quo, the situation there is bound to get worse. Without any progress toward disarming Hamas and preventing the group from playing a role in Gaza’s future governance, Israelis are going to resist further implementation of the U.S. president’s plan. Under those circumstances, the yellow line will take on a significance that was never intended, potentially replicating the history of the West Bank’s Area C.
For those who do not remember, a brief history lesson: Under the Oslo Accords, the West Bank was divided into areas A, B, and C. The latter was the largest of the three regions, encompassing about 60 percent of the territory, and under exclusive Israeli control. It was supposed to be transferred to the Palestinians in the framework of a final status agreement—which to this day has never been reached. Area C is now home to about 500,000 Israelis in 132 settlements (not including “outposts” that remain illegal under Israeli law).
The yellow line is hardly the first line that well-meaning diplomats have drawn in hopes of stabilizing and possibly resolving the conflict between Israel and its neighbors. There is the blue line along Israeli-Lebanese frontiers marking the Israeli withdrawal from southern Lebanon in 2000. The purple line demarcates the 1974 Israel-Syria armistice, which is basically consistent with the 1967 armistice line. Then, of course, there is the green line, which is the armistice line of 1949.
What these lines mean to different actors is often fluid. Hezbollah contests the blue line in large part because it needs a pretext for “resistance” and it does not want to recognize what could become an actual border. In contrast, the purple line has come to resemble an international border to some, especially after the United States recognized Israeli sovereignty over the occupied Golan Heights in 2019, though no one in Syrian accepts this fact. The best example of the fluidity of these lines on a map is the green line, in particular where it traces the West Bank (which Israelis tend to call Judea and Samaria). The line, if institutionalized, would create a situation in which the extent of Israel and a Palestinian state were clear. That has never happened because, over nearly six decades, successive Israeli governments have sought to erase the armistice line so it can never become an international border.
Now, thanks to Trump’s plan to end the fighting in Gaza, there are three new lines: the aforementioned yellow line, a red line, and a buffer zone, which looks to be crosshatched in grey in the maps of the agreement. Israel is supposed to pull back to red when an international stabilization force (ISF) deploys, and then finally withdraw to Gaza’s borders, with an expanded buffer zone based on an agreement with an as-of-yet constituted “transitional” authority in Gaza. So far, there is no ISF to be deployed. Some Arab states have said they will not participate in peace enforcement—meaning disarming Hamas—fearing both the political costs at home and the prospect of an armed confrontation with the group. And those Middle Eastern countries with the financial wherewithal to help fund Gaza’s reconstruction have made clear in private conversation they will not do so if Hamas remains influential. If no one is taking away the group’s guns, Hamas is no doubt going to be the primary political actor in Gaza. All of this will be litigated to death in every imaginable way, but the outcome will likely be what it is now—the Israelis sitting on the yellow line.
As noted, lots of Israelis seem OK with that. It is a respite from the long nightmare of Oct. 7. It means hostages home, less duty for reservists, and the possibility of some normalcy. At the same time, for Israel’s settler community, especially those evacuated from Gaza in 2005, the yellow line and Trump’s 20-point plan may not be everything they wanted out of the war, but they still offer an opportunity. For them, Israel’s control over any additional territory that was slated to be for a Palestinian state is a net positive. In time, as the Trump plan falters, the settler community—which evinces a noticeable zeal and elan that is missing from other sectors of Israeli society—will seek to settle the area east of the yellow line.
But staying in Gaza along the yellow line is also a trap. It offers a semblance of security, but if settlements were to follow, it would just perpetuate the dynamics of in play since 1967: occupation, periodic spasms of violence, and more international delegitimization. Israelis may be willing to bear these costs—at least for the moment—arguing that for their enemies, settlements are not the issue, Israel’s existence is. They are not wrong, but the apparent consensus that the yellow line is an acceptable outcome of the war is curious.
In the years after Israel’s victory in June 1967, Gaza became the country’s poison chalice, a source of great controversy, and harbinger of the country’s polarization. The yellow line is a return of sorts to an unhappy, unstable, and dangerous security environment. This will not end well.
