Israel’s new law permitting the death penalty for certain acts of terrorism demands a clear-eyed assessment — one that resists both reflexive denunciation and complacent defense. The instinct behind the law is not hard to understand. After years of brutal attacks on Israeli civilians, and especially in the shadow of Oct. 7, anger and a desire for deterrence run deep. A state has not only the right but the obligation to protect its citizens.
But this law crosses a line that should trouble anyone committed to the rule of law — because it risks making justice contingent on identity.
The concern is not simply that Israel is embracing capital punishment in extreme cases. Democracies have long wrestled with that question. The deeper problem is that the law appears to draw a distinction — explicitly or in practice — between Palestinian perpetrators and Jewish ones. That is where a measure framed as a security policy begins to look like a departure from equal justice.
Critics, including former senior legal officials, argue that the law is discriminatory and corrosive to Israel’s constitutional framework. Some go further, claiming it is part of a broader effort to foreclose the possibility of a Palestinian state. That conclusion may go too far. It imputes a strategic coherence — and a degree of intent — that is not clearly established. Much of what is driving Israeli policy today is reactive: fear, trauma and a profound loss of trust after sustained violence.
But rejecting that maximalist critique does not make the law defensible.
Israel has long insisted — rightly — that it is a state governed by law, not vengeance. That claim has been central to its moral standing, both internally and abroad. It is what distinguishes a democracy under threat from the forces aligned against it. A legal regime that treats similar acts of violence differently depending on who commits them erodes that distinction.
The issue is not theoretical. Settler violence in the West Bank has increased, and enforcement has often been uneven. When Jewish extremists attack Palestinians, accountability has been inconsistent. Against that backdrop, a law that sharpens penalties in only one direction sends a dangerous signal: that some lives are protected by the full force of the law, while others are not.
That is not deterrence. It is asymmetry.
And asymmetry in justice rarely remains contained. It seeps into institutions, shapes behavior and ultimately undermines legitimacy. Even within Israel, there are growing voices warning that the country is drifting away from its own legal and ethical commitments.
Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has built his career, in part, on navigating precisely these tensions — security and restraint, strength and legitimacy. This moment calls for that same balance. If the state believes the death penalty is necessary in extreme cases, then the standard must be universal. The same rules should apply to Jews who commit acts of terror against Arabs. Anything less invites the perception — and perhaps the reality — of a two-tiered system.
Israel’s challenge is not only to defeat those who seek its destruction. It is to do so without compromising the principles that justify its existence.
Justice cannot be selective. Once it is, it begins to unravel.
