Ronen Bar and Israel's AG are fighting Netanyahu to the death: Will they succeed- and what happens if they do?

Israel has long stared down external foes, but this week, the fight turned inward with a ferocity that’s rattling the nation’s core. On Sunday morning, Major Dror Gavish, a reservist mental health officer, dropped a bombshell on Kan Bet radio: if the government defies a High Court ruling shielding Shin Bet chief Ronen Bar from dismissal, he’ll abandon his reserve duty. Hours later, Attorney General Gali Baharav-Miara upped the ante, skipping a government meeting aimed at ousting her and blasting the coalition with a letter accusing it of craving “unchecked power.” Together, these defiance-fueled dramas are exposing a fault line not over territory or security, but over what they claim is the very essence of Israeli democracy.

Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s coalition, bruised by 18 months of war and unrelenting domestic strife, is flexing its muscle to silence two of its sharpest institutional thorns—Bar and Baharav-Miara. But in doing so, it’s colliding head-on with a judiciary desperate to preserve its authority and a reservist whose threat to walk away signals a broader crisis of trust. This isn’t just a power struggle; the left sells it as a referendum on whether Israel’s rule of law can withstand a government determined to bend it.

The Reservist’s Rebellion

Major Dror Gavish isn’t a headline-grabber by trade—he’s a mental health officer in Division 146, tasked with keeping soldiers steady under pressure. But his Sunday morning radio appearance turned him into the left's voice of reckoning. “If the government doesn’t comply with the High Court,” he declared, “I’ll request release from the reserves.” His ultimatum hinges on the fate of Ronen Bar, the Shin Bet chief whose dismissal the court blocked last week. For Gavish, it’s not just about one man—it’s about the line between democracy and dictatorship.

“I don’t trust the Prime Minister anymore,” Gavish said, his words slicing through the airwaves. “He’s crossed the line every dictator crosses. He’s convinced his continued rule is what the country needs.” He sees the Bar saga as a tipping point: will an independent authority survive to check the coalition, or will Israel slide into “a government of half the people”? “We’re very close to that,” he warned, pleading with coalition lawmakers to “stop this madness” before it fractures the nation beyond repair.

Gavish isn’t a lone wolf. Last year, thousands of reservists balked at judicial reforms they feared would gut democracy, some refusing call-ups in a wave dubbed “refusal from the left.” Now, with the High Court again under siege, that dissent is roaring back. Reservists are Israel’s military lifeblood—vital for sustained operations—and a crack in their ranks could kneecap the IDF at a critical moment.

Ronen Bar: The Shin Bet Chief in the Crossfire

Ronen Bar, the Shin Bet’s steely-eyed director, is no stranger to pressure—he’s spent years hunting threats in the shadows. But since October 7, 2023, when Hamas’s devastating attack killed 1,200 Israelis and exposed a gaping intelligence failure, he’s been a lightning rod. Hardliners in Netanyahu’s coalition demanded his scalp, blaming him for the lapse. On Thursday, they moved to fire him—only for the High Court to slam the brakes, ruling the dismissal illegal and ordering it undone.

Bar didn’t bother showing up to his hearing, a silent snub that echoed the Attorney General’s defiance. His fate now teeters on a razor’s edge: will the government bow to the court or barrel through, risking a constitutional showdown? For Gavish and his fellow dissenters, Bar’s ousting isn’t just about accountability—it’s a litmus test of whether the coalition can steamroll independent institutions at will. If Bar falls, they fear, the dominoes of democracy could tumble next.

The Attorney General’s Last Stand

Enter Gali Baharav-Miara, Israel’s supposed top legal watchdog, who’s locked in her own high-stakes duel with the government. On Monday, the coalition plans to vote no confidence in her—a first step toward her dismissal—over what Justice Minister Yariv Levin calls “substantial and prolonged differences” that hobble cooperation. Baharav-Miara didn’t wait for the gavel. She boycotted the meeting, instead unleashing a blistering two-page letter to Levin. “The government seeks to be above the law,” she charged, framing her firing as part of a “broader move to weaken the judiciary and intimidate professional ranks.”

The coalition’s indictment of her is brutal. A government memo paints her as a tyrant who’s turned her office into a “political entity, at times aggressive and oppressive,” accusing her of acting as the “long arm” of Netanyahu’s foes to thwart the voters’ will. “She’s created a democracy of plunder,” it seethes, alleging she’s rigged the system with “two legal standards”—one for government allies, another for its critics. Levin’s proposal claims she’s fueled division like no one in Israel’s history, all under the “cynical cloak” of rule of law.

Baharav-Miara doesn’t flinch. “Not trust, but loyalty to the political echelon,” she countered in her letter, warning of a government unshackled by checks, especially in “emergency periods” like this one. Her defiance has rallied the opposition—former PM Yair Lapid vowed to fight her ousting in court—but it’s also widened the abyss. If she’s axed, the judiciary loses what should have been a fierce guardian.

A Democracy on the Brink?

These aren’t isolated spats—they’re a three-pronged assault on the pillars of Israel’s democratic ethos. Gavish’s threat to ditch his uniform, Bar’s precarious perch at the Shin Bet, and Baharav-Miara’s showdown with the coalition converge on a single question: can Israel’s institutions withstand a government bent on taming them? Netanyahu, battered by corruption trials and a polarized electorate, casts himself as the steady hand in chaos. His critics—like Gavish and Baharav-Miara—see a leader torching the system to cling to power.

Will the government defy the High Court and fire Bar, triggering Gavish’s exit and possibly a reservist revolt? Will it oust Baharav-Miara, handing the coalition unchecked reins? The answers lie in the days ahead—but as Israel’s war rages on, its fiercest battle may be the one within, where the cost isn’t measured in blood, but in the erosion of a democracy once held as sacred.