Gadi Eisenkot campaigns on Moroccan roots in challenge to Netanyahu

“Rosh Memshala Dialna” combines the Hebrew words for “prime minister” with “Dialna,” Moroccan Arabic for “of our own.” The slogan presents Eisenkot as both Israeli and Moroccan. That matters because Mizrahi identity has often been pushed aside in Israeli public life.

Sderot is a strong setting for the message. The southern city has a large Moroccan Jewish community and is seen as a center of Moroccan-Jewish culture in music, cinema and politics. Yet it is also a Likud stronghold. Likud won more than 40% of Sderot’s vote in 2022, compared with 23% nationwide.

Eisenkot’s campaign is therefore trying to cross an old political divide. It links Moroccan ancestry and local pride with a liberal challenge to Netanyahu. The slogan also creates space for an Israeli-Moroccan identity, rather than asking North African Jews to hide their Arab cultural roots.

In Israeli society, “Mizrahi” describes Jews whose families mainly came from the Middle East and North Africa. The term includes Moroccan Jews and distinguishes them historically from Ashkenazim, Jews of European origin. It refers to ancestry, culture and a shared experience of discrimination, not only to a person’s place of birth.

The distinction became politically important after Israel’s founding. Mizrahim were often expected to “Europeanize” instead of preserving their cultures, heritage or Arabic languages. Many were also sent to remote transit camps and later development towns with weaker infrastructure.

That history still shapes Israeli politics. Mizrahi communities experienced poorer access to housing, jobs, education and infrastructure. Many therefore developed strong ties to Likud, which used their frustration with the Ashkenazi-led Mapai establishment. Eisenkot’s campaign seeks to make Moroccan identity more visible and politically affirmative.

Israel’s Mizrahi Jewish population is estimated at about 4 million people. That is roughly half of the country’s Jewish population. The figure shows why Mizrahi identity matters nationally, not only in a few towns or communities.

Sderot has special importance because it has a large Moroccan Jewish community. In recent decades, the city has become symbolic of Moroccan-Jewish culture in Israel. That identity appears in music, cinema and state politics. Sderot is also a development town in the Negev, close to Gaza, with a population of about 40,000 after recent growth.

The article does not provide an exact number for Sderot’s Moroccan Jews. It does show the community’s political importance. The city has traditionally favored Likud, while Eisenkot’s campaign is directly appealing to its Moroccan heritage and local sense of identity.

Sderot’s political loyalty reflects history as much as culture. The city is a development town with a large Moroccan Jewish population, but Mizrahi communities often faced poor housing, limited infrastructure and weaker access to jobs and education. Those experiences created anger toward the old establishment.

Likud, founded in 1973, turned that frustration into political support under Menachem Begin. Mizrahim helped Likud defeat the socialist camp in the upheaval known as the Mahapach. Sderot has also faced repeated rocket attacks from Hamas because of its location near Gaza. Those security pressures reinforce support for right-wing parties.

In 2022, Likud received more than 40% of Sderot’s vote, against 23% nationwide. Other far-right coalition parties also performed strongly there. Eisenkot’s campaign is testing whether Moroccan identity can now support a different political choice.

Discrimination gave political meaning to Mizrahi identity. After Israel’s founding, Mizrahim often received worse housing and fewer opportunities than European immigrants. Many were placed in remote transit camps and later development towns with limited infrastructure. These conditions produced poverty and a lasting sense of exclusion.

Jobs and education became symbols of unequal treatment by the Ashkenazi-led Mapai establishment. Likud used that frustration effectively under Menachem Begin. Mizrahi support helped produce the Mahapach, when Likud defeated the socialist camp and took power. The party became associated with Mizrahi voters, even though it never had a Mizrahi leader.

This pattern remains visible in Sderot, where Likud won more than 40% in 2022. Eisenkot’s campaign argues that the old alignment can change by recognizing Mizrahi identity openly. Its challenge is to turn cultural recognition into support beyond traditional right-wing loyalties.

Mapai dominated Israel’s early years, and its leadership was largely Ashkenazi. Mizrahim were often pressured to adopt European culture rather than preserve their own heritage or Arabic language. European immigrants also received better housing and jobs, while many Jews from Arab-speaking countries were sent to remote transit camps.

Those camps later became development towns, which often lacked infrastructure and remained poorer than Israel’s central regions. Limited access to jobs, education and services made the inequality tangible. Mizrahim came to view the Mapai establishment as responsible for long-standing exclusion.

Likud, founded in 1973, organized that frustration under Menachem Begin. Mizrahi support helped Likud defeat the socialist camp in 1977, an event called the Mahapach, or upheaval. The result created a durable political relationship between Mizrahi voters and Likud, even though the party has never had a Mizrahi leader.

Cultural identity becomes political when people see it linked to dignity and unequal treatment. Language and ancestry can express belonging, while shared hardship can create a common grievance. In Israel, Mizrahim were often pressured to abandon Arabic cultural ties and faced weaker access to housing, jobs, education and infrastructure.

Eisenkot’s slogan shows the mechanism. “Dialna,” meaning “of our own” in Moroccan Arabic, publicly joins Moroccan heritage with national leadership. In Sderot, a city with a large Moroccan Jewish community, the message connects cultural recognition with local political choice. Historical exclusion gives that language added force.

Democratic elections provide a channel for this identity to matter. Communities may support parties that reflect their history or promise change. Sderot’s traditional support for Likud shows one outcome; Eisenkot’s campaign tests another. Its broader implication is that identity can reshape political competition when people feel newly able to express it openly.