The Middle East is a fascinating place.

In one corner, crowds chant, “Allahu Akbar.”

In another, they shout, “Death to America.”

And in Israel?

A segment of the public has discovered a new political prayer:

“Anyone but Bibi.”

Not an ideology.

Not a vision.

Not a governing program.

Not an economic doctrine.

Not a security strategy.

Not a foreign policy framework.

Just:

Anyone but Bibi.

As if an entirely new religion had been founded specifically for television pundits and professional panelists.

The Great Religions of the Middle East

For centuries, two fundamental truths have governed much of the region.

The first:

Everything is the will of Allah.

The second:

Whatever went wrong is somebody else’s fault.

Then Israeli politics arrived and created a local adaptation.

Something happens?

Bibi’s fault.

Rainstorm?

Bibi.

Traffic jams?

Bibi.

Tomato prices?

Bibi.

An earthquake in Japan?

Give social media fifteen minutes and somebody will connect it to Netanyahu.

The formula is elegant in its simplicity.

Complicated reality disappears.

Nuance becomes unnecessary.

Every problem suddenly has a single name attached to it.

Political theology has never been so convenient.

The Church of “Anyone But Bibi”

At some point it became difficult to determine whether this was a political movement or a religious sect.

Because political movements are supposed to want victory.

They present candidates.

They offer ideas.

They develop policies.

They attempt to persuade voters.

Yet for much of the “Anyone But Bibi” camp, opposition itself became the objective.

The destination disappeared.

Only the resistance remained.

It resembles a football supporter who has forgotten which team he supports and now lives solely for the defeat of the rival club.

The problem?

Countries are not governed by resentment.

They are not governed by television panels either.

Gulliver and the Political Dwarfs

At the center of the story stands Benjamin Netanyahu.

Love him.

Hate him.

Debate every decision he has made since the 1990s.

Argue over every speech, every coalition, every policy.

But one fact remains remarkably difficult to erase:

More than three decades after emerging as a major political force, he remains the dominant figure in Israeli politics.

And facing him?

A rotating troupe of political dwarfs.

Each one absolutely convinced that he will finally bring down Gulliver.

One arrives carrying an investigation.

Another arrives with a leaked recording.

A third appears with classified documents.

A fourth unveils a “bombshell revelation.”

A fifth schedules an emergency press conference.

The public has long since lost count.

The dwarfs keep climbing the ladder.

Throwing mud.

Shouting slogans.

Posing for cameras.

Declaring victory.

And at the end of the day, Gulliver is still standing.

Perhaps a little dirtier.

But still standing.

The Real Middle East Doesn’t Watch Israeli Talk Shows

There is another problem.

Reality.

While television studios spend countless hours discussing Netanyahu, the neighborhood continues to burn.

Iran continues expanding its regional ambitions.

The Houthis continue launching missiles.

Hamas remains a significant actor.

Turkey under Recep Tayyip Erdoğan continues drifting away from traditional Western alignments.

And Syria somehow continues performing the remarkable feat of remaining Syria.

Yet in parts of the political and media establishment, one could be forgiven for thinking that every geopolitical event in the Middle East is merely background scenery for a never-ending television drama called The Last Bibist.

Netanyahu Syndrome

Disliking Netanyahu is perfectly legitimate.

That is how democracy works.

Citizens are allowed to dislike politicians.

Strongly.

Passionately.

Even obsessively.

But there is a difference between opposition and identity.

Some people oppose Netanyahu.

Others appear to have built their entire political identity around opposing him.

Without Netanyahu, the campaign disappears.

Without Netanyahu, the message evaporates.

Without Netanyahu, the movement struggles to explain its purpose.

In a strange twist of political gravity, Netanyahu has become the engine powering many of his opponents.

They need him more than he needs them.

What Really Frightens His Rivals?

The truly interesting question is why predictions of Netanyahu’s political demise keep failing.

Again and again, commentators announce the end.

Again and again, headlines declare the final chapter.

Again and again, analysts predict collapse.

And yet he returns to the center of the story.

Not because of magic.

Not because of secret conspiracies.

Not because voters are hypnotized.

But because his opponents frequently struggle to offer something larger than a negative slogan.

And negative slogans have limits.

A public may vote against someone once.

Perhaps even twice.

But convincing voters to organize their political lives around opposition to the same individual for twenty years is a far more difficult challenge.

The Bottom Line

The Middle East is full of people chanting slogans.

Some chant “Allahu Akbar.”

Some chant “Death to the Zionists.”

And some genuinely believe that “Anyone But Bibi” constitutes a national strategy.

The common thread is obvious.

Slogans are always easier than ideas.

They require less thought.

Less responsibility.

Less imagination.

But countries are not built on slogans.

Not on empty declarations.

Not on political obsessions.

And not on permanent campaigns against a single individual.

Meanwhile, as the dwarfs continue throwing mud, unveiling dramatic “exposés,” and announcing Netanyahu’s political death for the thousandth time, Gulliver keeps moving forward.

And the part that frustrates the dwarfs most?

He does not even have to run.

All he has to do is keep walking.