It is a bitter moment for the Palestinian citizens of Israel who will go to the polls on Oct. 27. We are part of a national election in a state that is practicing the most devastating war, ethnic cleansing and violence against our people since the Nakba of 1948. Insecurity, after all, changes the meaning of political participation.
The attacks of Oct. 7, the war in Gaza and the political transformation inside Israel have forever altered the relationship among Palestinian citizens of Israel, the state and the Palestinian national question. Palestinian citizens are not only citizens of Israel, they are part of the larger Palestinian people whose experience over the past three years cannot be separated from what happens inside Israel.
Being a Palestinian Israeli voter is a paradox: We are asked to participate in a political system that does not treat us as an equal part of that democracy. Many of Israel’s political parties, including those seeking to replace Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, continue to resist the idea of an Arab party participating in a governing coalition. At the same time, some of them also understand that a high Palestinian turnout could help change the government.
In other words, our vote is important enough to impact the future of Israel, but most of the candidates still consider us to be unacceptable partners in governing. These questions became particularly urgent in September when Israel’s Central Elections Committee voted to disqualify the two Arab-majority parties from participating in this election. The Supreme Court overturned the decision, allowing them to run, though one candidate, Sami Abu Shehadeh, withdrew his candidacy after a public campaign against him.
Amid all of this, the daily lives of Palestinian citizens of Israel are growing more precarious. In recent years, organized crime has transformed life in many Palestinian communities: In 2025, 252 Arab citizens were killed in violent crimes — a record high. For many, the recent spike in crime is not simply experienced as a failure of policing. It is also seen an expression of unequal citizenship and racist policies that exacerbate a long-held sense of state-led mistreatment. In the best case, we are seen as second- or third-class citizens; in the worst, we are enemies. The experience of abandonment is real.
When people are worried about shootings and the safety of their children, the question of who will govern Israel can feel distant. When the state cannot protect you, why should you believe that changing the government will change your life?
All of this is precisely why Palestinian Israelis cannot afford to withdraw — and why the current campaign underway in Israel to increase Palestinian turnout matters. It is not simply a campaign for more votes. It is a struggle over our existence in our homeland.
In the run-up to this month’s vote, activists, civic organizations and political actors have been telling people that these elections matter, that staying home is not a neutral choice and that Palestinian citizens need to be part of changing the current government, first and foremost for their own lives and futures. There is no illusion that a single election will transform their day-to-day lives or resolve the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. The hope is to replace a government that has presided over years of war and devastation, and to stop or limit the most extreme forms of racism and violence against all Palestinians.
Recent polls show that neither the parties supporting Mr. Netanyahu nor those seeking to replace him have a clear path to a 61-seat majority in Israel’s parliament, the Knesset. The nation’s two Arab-majority lists, Raam and the Joint List alliance, are currently projected to win roughly 13 to 15 seats. The votes they could receive will play a crucial role in the effort to get rid of the current government.
An equally important question is what their participation means at a moment when their relationship with the Israeli political system has become so deeply strained, both by the consensus among many Israeli Zionist parties not to build a coalition with any Arab party and by their clear message that the politics of Israel belongs only to the Jewish majority.
This is also where Palestinian citizens have to look critically at their own political leadership, patterns and discourses. There is deep disappointment among voters with both Arab-led parties over their divisions, internal rivalries, inability to sustain a united political framework and what I see as failures of transparency and accountability.
The two Arab-majority parties reflect two very different ideas of Palestinian political agency in Israel. Raam has sought to use Palestinian votes as political capital — to negotiate with the politicians in power to secure concrete gains for Arab communities on housing, infrastructure, economic development and personal security. The Joint List, a political alliance composed of three parties, Hadash, Ta’al and Balad, places greater emphasis on Palestinian national identity, equality and structural political change.
Both approaches respond to real needs, but neither alone seems adequate in the post-Oct. 7 moment. The failure to bring the major Arab parties back under one umbrella is not simply a matter of bad electoral tactics. It reinforces the feeling that Palestinian political leadership has not found a way to respond collectively to our radically changed reality.
Despite the internal criticism, it’s hard to ask Palestinian political leadership to reinvent itself while the political space available to Palestinian citizens is shrinking. It is impossible to develop a new politics while Palestinian identity is increasingly viewed by Jewish parties through the language of security and loyalty.
The reality is that our vote matters. The winning coalition may need to join forces with one or both of the Arab parties to secure a majority. This election may reveal that Palestinian citizens have enough electoral weight to influence the political balance in Israel, even as people feel they have so little control over their own lives. Our communities are consumed by violence. Our political parties are divided. Our representatives are often delegitimized before they even enter the coalition conversation. But we can play a significant role in changing the direction of this country.
The real challenge after Oct. 7 and during the war and ethnic cleansing is therefore not simply to increase Palestinian voter turnout, to win more seats or to influence the next coalition. It is to dismantle institutional and legal structures that perpetuate Jewish domination and supremacy, ensure genuine equality of rights and address the Palestinian question as a national one. For Israeli Jews and Palestinians alike, it requires a mutual recognition of the need for historical reconciliation and an equal, shared future — one that can secure the lives, national aspirations and dignity of both peoples.
That future cannot be built, however flawed the political system may be, without political participation — including the imperfect but indispensable act of voting.
The actual building will begin in the days after Oct. 27. The results of the election and the next government in Israel are critical in shaping the future of both Palestinians and Israeli Jews in the whole region. This will be another milestone in an ongoing struggle.
