This is by no means a new phenomenon. In 1998, Chief of Staff Amnon Lipkin-Shahak was already polling as a potential prime minister before he had uttered a single word. At different points in time, others were in the same position: Ami Ayalon, a recently retired and successful Shin Bet chief, and former IDF chiefs Dan Halutz and Gabi Ashkenazi. More recent examples similar to Naftali Bennett’s case are not hard to find. First and foremost, “the concerned citizen” Benjamin Netanyahu, who rarely appeared in public between his resignation in 1999 and his return in late 2002 — and yet soared in the polls.
It’s a political phenomenon that highlights how semi-rational we are. We long for the very people we hated and kicked out. Our longing only grows the more they remain silent, do nothing, and refrain from expressing opinions on the issues we care about most. From now on, let it be said: the less we know about you, the more we will love you.
At the start of the war, Bennett still spoke — gave interviews from the field and, most importantly, presented a plan. It was a flawed plan, but a plan nonetheless. Its main points: no broad ground maneuver, no entry into Gaza proper — Rafah, Khan Yunis — no war in the tunnels. Instead, Bennett proposed a siege on northern Gaza, transferring the population south, and applying pressure on Hamas.
Bennett was influenced by concerns over the IDF’s ground maneuver capabilities — the same concerns that caused Netanyahu to hesitate repeatedly and led the IDF to draw up a slow military plan for the government, one expected to take many months, with less aggressive incursions. The IDF wasn’t supposed to enter all the areas it eventually did.
Once the ground maneuver began, Bennett went silent. He no longer speaks in Israeli media and rarely appears in foreign media, where he can more easily dodge tough questions. At the same time, he maintains a presence at consensus-building domestic events — comforting bereaved families, encouraging the wounded, and taking a clear stance against draft-dodging and in favor of ultra-Orthodox enlistment. The ideas he’s floated over the past year in private conversations — on what he would do if he were prime minister — were underdeveloped and revealed how confused he is in light of a complicated reality.
Bennett’s silence is a clear display of anti-leadership — an escape from tough questions that might drive away voters nostalgic for a brand they no longer clearly remember. His rise in the polls is based largely on "Anyone But Bibi" voters. He’s drawing support away from both Benny Gantz and Yair Lapid, but he’s also hurting Netanyahu’s bloc. According to the latest Channel 13 poll, about 16% of coalition voters are now saying they’d vote for Bennett. This pushes Bezalel Smotrich below the electoral threshold and turns Netanyahu’s numbers from bad to catastrophic — results that could send him and his allies into the trash bin of history.
In other words, the silence is the opposite of leadership — but on a political, tactical level, it is smart and justified. Bennett has already begun quietly exploring potential allies for his new party. His previous search efforts yielded Amichai Chikli and Idit Silman — a memory that now makes him cringe. He also hasn’t forgotten what Ayelet Shaked did to him last time. On the other hand, it’s extremely difficult to find 20 MKs like Matan Kahana — right-wing, clean, competent, and still loyal.
Bennett knows that the moment he reenters the spotlight, he will become a prime target for every party. Netanyahu, Smotrich, and Itamar Ben Gvir — for obvious reasons — but also from the other side. Gantz, Avigdor Lieberman, and Lapid are all competing for the same voter base. Bennett understands this and is postponing his return as much as possible. His main challenge is to elicit only a moderate reaction from the ultra-Orthodox, in order to keep presenting himself as a candidate who truly challenges Netanyahu.