By Shahar Masori
SAN DIEGO — Leadership choices often reflect a nation’s values and priorities, shaping not only domestic policy but also international relations. Watching Donald Trump’s controversial cabinet picks unfold in America reminds me of Benjamin Netanyahu’s coalition of extremists in Israel. Both leaders, though governing vastly different nations, seem to have embraced a strategy of relying on polarizing figures to solidify their political power. For me, as someone with deep ties to both countries, this parallel is unsettling.
In Israel, Netanyahu’s coalition is a delicate balancing act of ideologies. Religious zealots, ultranationalists, and those with controversial views on judicial reform and minority rights now sit at the heart of his government. Their presence often dominates the national discourse, sometimes alienating moderates and straining Israel’s relationships with its closest allies, including the United States. For Netanyahu, these alliances ensure his political survival in a fractured parliamentary system, even as they deepen societal divides.
In the U.S., Trump’s cabinet picks seem to echo this approach. His appointments highlight figures known for their divisive rhetoric, staunch ideology, and a willingness to challenge established norms. Like Netanyahu, Trump is doubling down on his base, prioritizing loyalty and ideological alignment over broader, consensus-driven governance. These choices electrify their supporters but also risk alienating moderates and further polarizing their respective nations.
What strikes me most is how both leaders seem to thrive on the chaos these appointments generate. Netanyahu’s coalition has provoked mass protests over judicial reform and minority rights, with critics arguing that his policies threaten Israel’s democratic foundations. Trump’s cabinet choices have sparked fierce debate over the direction of American governance, with concerns about whether these picks will uphold the country’s democratic norms or challenge them outright.
The stakes for both nations are high. In Israel, Netanyahu’s coalition may provide the political stability needed to confront security threats, particularly from Iran. Yet, this stability comes at the cost of internal unity, as citizens grapple with policies that many feel undermine democratic ideals. In the U.S., Trump’s cabinet picks could lead to significant policy shifts, but they also risk deepening the divisions that have plagued the country in recent years.
For me, the most troubling similarity between these leadership styles is the message they send: that power can and should be maintained at all costs, even if it means alienating large segments of the population. While this strategy may energize their base, it leaves little room for the kind of inclusive governance that fosters long-term stability.
Living between these two worlds, I find myself reflecting on what this means for the future of both democracies. In Israel, the rapid pace of political maneuvering often leads to unstable coalitions and fractured governance. In the U.S., the slow, money-driven electoral process gives leaders like Trump the time to entrench themselves deeply, making it harder for moderates to find their voice. Yet, both systems reflect their countries’ values—Israel’s emphasis on coalition-building and communal representation, and America’s focus on individualism and competition.
As we witness the unfolding chapters of Trump’s and Netanyahu’s leadership, the challenge for their citizens is clear. Democracy is not just about elections; it’s about the choices made afterward, the voices heard, and the values upheld. For Americans and Israelis alike, the road ahead demands vigilance, critical engagement, and a collective commitment to ensuring their countries remain beacons of democratic hope.
As I reflect on this meshugas, I can’t help but sense the beginning of a new and uncertain era, one where power is hoarded rather than shared, and where leaders surround themselves with echo chambers of loyalty rather than voices of dissent. Both Trump and Netanyahu seem fixated on their own survival, prioritizing personal legacy over the well-being of their nations. Their leadership raises a troubling question: How far are these self-anointed kings willing to go, and how much will they leave broken in their wake? For all my concerns, I hold on to a sliver of hope—hope that we, as citizens, can rise above their divisive tactics, come together, and build a future defined by unity, not destruction. The path forward is unclear, but the responsibility to ensure democracy’s resilience rests with all of us.
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Shahar Masori was raised in Hadera, Israel, and immigrated to San Diego in 2000, where he helped build a balloon decor business and raised two sons.