In exclusive interviews with The Media Line, two senior figures from the top echelons of Israel’s defense apparatus—former Shin Bet chief Ami Ayalon and retired IDF Major General Gershon Hacohen—offer sharply contrasting perspectives on what this crisis truly means for the country’s institutional integrity. Their visions diverge not only in the dismissal of Bar itself, but also in the foundational principles guiding the relationship between government and state.
Ami Ayalon, who served as director of the Shin Bet and previously commanded the Israeli Navy, frames the attempted removal of Bar as more than a power struggle.
For him: “This is the collapse of Israel’s concept of statehood.”
“Even in a non-ideal world—and we are certainly not living in one in Israel—every government decision is subject to limits,” he said. “When the prime minister claims to fire the Shin Bet chief simply due to ‘lack of trust,’ without explanation, that’s deeply problematic. The Shin Bet is not a personal position of trust; it is defined by law, with professional—not political—criteria.”
As one of the architects of the 2002 General Security Services Law, Ayalon emphasized that in a democracy, internal security services serve the state, not the government. “That’s what distinguishes us from authoritarian regimes. The Shin Bet must operate between loyalty to the executive and its legal duty to defend the democratic order. If this balance breaks, the institution’s very purpose collapses.”
He warned that the current crisis reveals not only institutional friction but a breakdown of consensus. “What we are witnessing is the collapse of mamlachtiyut—the Israeli concept of stately governance, of putting the country above personal, sectarian, or political loyalty.”
Rooted in David Ben-Gurion’s vision for Israel as the country’s first prime minister, the term mamlachtiyut refers to state-oriented responsibility and loyalty to national institutions above personal, political, or sectoral interests.
Unifying force in diverse, often divided society
For many, it emphasizes the primacy of the state as a unifying force in a diverse and often divided society. For Ayalon, mamlachtiyut isn’t just a term from political philosophy; it’s the invisible glue that held the Israeli state together through its foundational decades.
“When people inside the Shin Bet start leaking information because they believe the system is hiding truths for political gain, and then they are treated as heroes—that’s not a malfunction,” he stated. “That’s a systemic collapse.”
Bar’s fate, he added, is no longer the central issue. “The real question isn’t whether Ronen Bar should leave—he already said he would step down after the war. The crisis is about who replaces him, under what criteria, and at what cost to democratic legitimacy. If competence and commitment to state institutions are replaced by personal loyalty to the prime minister, then yes, we are in a post-democratic state.”
For Ayalon, the signs are already there. “There’s a growing part of the public that no longer sees state institutions as neutral. They see them as enemies or obstacles. And that sentiment is being fueled from within the government itself.” Citing past incidents—including the public’s support for soldiers who defied ethical codes of engagement—Ayalon added: “We’ve already killed one prime minister. A scenario in which armed civilians reject the authority of the judiciary can no longer be considered implausible. That’s where we’re heading.”
Ayalon sees this moment as part of a broader identity crisis. “Israel is a weak democracy. We have no constitution. Our legislative and executive branches are fused through the coalition system. The judiciary is the only check remaining. And now it is under direct assault—not just politically, but culturally.” According to him, what used to be a shared sense of national purpose has been replaced by competing tribal agendas. “There is no longer agreement on what is legal, what is moral, or even what is real. In this environment, leaders use ideology as a weapon, and truth becomes whatever serves political survival.”
His assessment of Netanyahu is severe. “He truly believes that only he can save Israel—from its enemies, from its judiciary, from its citizens. He has built a myth around himself, and within that myth, anyone who challenges him becomes an enemy of the state. That is the behavior of a toxic leader, not a democratic one.”
“Trust is essential—if it’s broken, the director must step down.”
Offering a different view
Offering an unequivocally different view is Major General (res.) Gershon Hacohen, a veteran of Israel’s wars and one of the IDF’s most prominent strategic thinkers. For Hacohen, the current uproar is a symptom not of democratic decay, but of a refusal by political opponents to accept the government’s legitimate authority.
“I’m a Ben-Gurionist,” he said, invoking Israel’s founding prime minister. “Ben-Gurion had no problem asking someone like Isser Harel, who led both the Mossad and the Shin Bet, to resign when trust was broken. It wasn’t about criminal charges. It was about responsibility and cohesion. If that emotional trust between the prime minister and the Shin Bet chief doesn’t exist, then the chief must go. That’s not undemocratic—it’s leadership.”
Hacohen forcefully rejects the idea that the Shin Bet should act as a check on the elected government. “This idea of the security services being ‘gatekeepers’ of democracy—that’s a dangerous distortion. It assumes that the government itself is a threat. That’s not how a state functions. Mamlachtiyut, as Ben-Gurion understood it, is not about being neutral or apolitical—it’s about loyalty to the state’s foundational vision. That includes respecting the authority of elected leaders.”
Acknowledging the sensitivities surrounding the Qatargate investigation, Hacohen was clear: “The system doesn’t stop because one man leaves. Bar’s resignation would not interrupt any investigation. The Shin Bet is not a one-man show.” Instead, he argued, the real politicization is coming from outside the government. “There is a political movement telling Bar to stay, not to protect the institution, but to weaken Netanyahu. That’s the real danger: turning the Shin Bet into a political weapon.”
On the matter of recent leaks, Hacohen drew a line between failure and sabotage. “The case of the Shin Bet employee who revealed details of a secret operation to a relative, which then surfaced on social networks—that’s not ideology. That’s recklessness. But yes, there are also ideological leaks. People who no longer trust the chain of command. That’s far more serious. It’s not just illegal—it’s corrosive.”
Despite these challenges, Hacohen insists that Israel’s security institutions remain intact. “The defense establishment is not crumbling. The police, the military, the Shin Bet—they operate under disciplined, professional frameworks. What we’re seeing is a political narrative of collapse, not an actual collapse.”
He is particularly critical of the perception that ministers like Itamar Ben-Gvir are now controlling these institutions. “That’s fantasy. The Israeli public has lost trust not in the security services, but in those who manipulate them for political theater.”
In their respective diagnoses, Ayalon and Hacohen present opposing models of civic order. Ayalon warns that democracy cannot survive without shared trust in institutions—and that Netanyahu has actively dismantled that trust. Hacohen warns that democracy cannot function if unelected elites refuse to recognize the authority of those elected by the people.
But on one point, both agree: something is broken. Whether it is a systemic crisis born of authoritarian drift or a hysterical reaction to legitimate governance, the country’s foundational compact—its mamlachtiyut—is at risk.
As the High Court prepares to rule and public confidence keeps deteriorating, the fight over who leads the Shin Bet has become more than an institutional dispute. It is a reflection of a nation increasingly uncertain of what it is—and what it’s willing to become.
