War shakes Netanyahu's support in Israel's north

On Israel's border with Lebanon where Hizbollah fired thousands of rockets and drones, previous backers of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu say they are rethinking how they will vote in the first election since the war. "Many I know were right-wing and were Bibi supporters, and today they're not," said plant nursery owner Sigal Malachi, using a nickname for Israel's longest-serving premier.

In traditional strongholds of Netanyahu support, many said they could no longer back his right-wing government in the Oct 27 vote, accusing it of failing to secure a lasting quiet with the resistance fighters.

Hizbollah, an Iran-backed Lebanese resistance group, began firing into Israel in October 2023 in support of Hamas following the deadliest-ever attack on the country.

The barrages altered life in northern communities, displacing tens of thousands of Israelis and forcing people like Malachi to close shop for several years. Northern Israelis are accustomed to incoming fire from the Lebanese side of the border, but they say that round of conflict was more intense.

"We grew up with Katyushas (rockets) and bombs," said Malachi, whose plant nursery reopened in March. "This war was different."

She described that "if you went outside, within a second you'd be running" for shelter.

The war was halted with a fragile ceasefire in November 2024, but evacuees were not allowed home until early 2025.

Life began slowly returning to normal, until the northern front reopened after the outbreak of the Iran war.

Maxim Zarbaylov, who was born in the former Soviet Union but has long lived in Nahariya, the northernmost Israeli town on the Mediterranean, is among those wavering.

"All my life I voted for (Likud), for Bibi Netanyahu... But this year I want to vote for (Gadi) Eisenkot," he said, referring to the former military chief who is Netanyahu's main election rival.

Hizbollah has repeatedly dragged Lebanon into conflicts with Israel, most recently in March with rocket fire at Israel in support of Iran.

Israel has in turn seized what it calls a "security zone" in Lebanon, where authorities say Israeli attacks have killed over 4,300 people.

The prolonged violence has left border residents in limbo.

"After Oct 7 we don't sleep well any more," said Malachi. "I've thought about leaving. But the roots are so deep that I'm staying."

In Shlomi, an Israeli border town, the enemy is a tangible presence behind a hill.

Shadi Tuma, who owns a supermarket there, prides himself on running the only one that remained open.

"This area is under a trauma we haven't seen before. There's anger. The government is unable to provide a comprehensive response.

"It's a huge psychological catastrophe. Not everyone is able to cope with a war that lasts three years."

The war has cracked the local support base for Netanyahu, Tuma added.

In the last elections in 2022, the premier's Likud party won 43 per cent of the vote in Shlomi, compared with 23 per cent nationwide.

Residents who backed Netanyahu "now want change because they no longer trust this government", said Tuma.

He said the high cost of living was a major complaint.

"Many people I see are struggling to make it to the end of the month."

For Tuma, the conflict is also personal.

He was born in Lebanon, the son of a fighter with the South Lebanon Army, a militia that fought alongside Israel in the 1980s and that had many fighters granted Israeli citizenship.

The war could have shifted longstanding political loyalties in towns like Nahariya, a sleepy resort of about 70,000 people.

In 2022, 38 per cent of voters there chose Likud. But Zarbaylov says there is anger over the failure to stop Hamas' unprecedented assault on the country.

"What happened on Oct 7, Bibi could have prevented it, but he didn't," he said.

Others believe only the current hawkish coalition can protect them.

Patrice Haddad retired to Nahariya from Paris a year ago, drawn by the town's "charm".

Israel's "Law of Return" allows any Jew anywhere in the world to immigrate and automatically receive citizenship.

Adjusting to life under the rockets was not simple at first.

"We were told we had 30 seconds to find shelter" after sirens blared, he said. "In reality, sometimes we only had 15, sometimes less."

The writer is from AFP