JERUSALEM — In a dramatic escalation of one of Israel's most divisive political sagas, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, the nation's longest-serving leader, formally petitioned President Isaac Herzog on Sunday, November 30, 2025, for a presidential pardon to halt his protracted corruption trial. The move, which Netanyahu framed as a sacrifice for national unity amid ongoing regional threats, has unleashed a torrent of condemnation from opponents, sparked street protests, and deepened the chasms fracturing Israeli society. At 76, Netanyahu—facing charges of bribery, fraud, and breach of trust—insists the six-year ordeal is a politically engineered "witch hunt" designed to undermine his governance, but critics decry it as a blatant evasion of accountability that could erode the foundations of Israel's democracy.
Netanyahu's request, submitted through his legal team and accompanied by a 111-page memorandum from his attorneys, arrives at a precarious moment for the embattled leader. The document, dated November 27 but publicly disclosed on Sunday, meticulously argues that the trial's continuation poses an existential risk to Israel's cohesion, exacerbating "fierce divisions" and "intensifying rifts" at a time when the country grapples with the aftermath of the October 2023 Hamas attacks, a prolonged Gaza conflict, and escalating tensions with Hezbollah in Lebanon.
In a somber video message released on social media, Netanyahu, dressed in a dark suit against a backdrop of the Israeli flag, declared: “The trial in my case has been ongoing for nearly six years, and is expected to continue for many more years.” He conceded that he had initially resolved to fight for full acquittal but that “the security and political reality—the national interest—dictate otherwise.” The prime minister highlighted the court’s recent order mandating his testimony three days a week—a stipulation he labeled “an impossible requirement” unfit for any citizen, let alone an elected leader entrusted with wartime decisions—as the “tipping point” that compelled his hand.
This extraordinary appeal marks a stark reversal for Netanyahu, who has steadfastly proclaimed his innocence since indictments were unsealed in 2019. No admission of guilt, remorse, or pledge to exit politics accompanies the filing, a deliberate omission that legal scholars warn could doom its prospects under Israeli precedent.
Herzog’s office swiftly acknowledged receipt, terming it “an extraordinary request which carries with it significant implications” and pledging a “responsible and sincere” review after consulting the Justice Ministry’s pardons department and other stakeholders. The president, whose role is largely ceremonial but includes sole clemency authority, had in September hinted at openness to such measures, noting that Netanyahu’s case “weighs heavily on Israeli society.” Yet Israeli law traditionally reserves pardons for post-conviction scenarios, with rare exceptions like the 1986 Barzilai case involving Shin Bet officials who admitted fault—a bar Netanyahu’s unconditional bid conspicuously sidesteps.
The catalyst for Netanyahu’s timing appears tied to external pressures, notably a letter from U.S. President Donald Trump dispatched earlier in November. In it, Trump—Netanyahu’s longtime ally—urged Herzog to “fully pardon” the “formidable and decisive War Time Prime Minister,” dismissing the charges as a “political, unjustified prosecution” amid their joint efforts to expand the Abraham Accords and broker a Gaza ceasefire. Trump had amplified the call during an October address to the Knesset, quipping, “Give him a pardon, come on,” while standing beside Herzog. Netanyahu, in his video, expressed gratitude for the endorsement, underscoring the “incredible support” from Washington as validation of his leadership.
Critics, however, smell orchestration: legal experts describe the sequence as “an orchestrated move,” predicting any granted pardon would face swift Supreme Court scrutiny. They emphasize that pre-conviction clemency without contrition risks “demolishing law and order,” potentially paving a reluctant path toward plea bargaining—an option Netanyahu has hitherto scorned.
At the heart of the maelstrom lie three interlocking cases (known as 1000, 2000, and 4000) that have ensnared Netanyahu and his wife, Sara, since investigations began in 2016. Case 1000 alleges the couple accepted over 700,000 shekels in illicit gifts—cigars, champagne, and jewelry—from Hollywood producer Arnon Milchan and Australian billionaire James Packer in exchange for regulatory favors. Case 2000 involves recorded conversations where Netanyahu purportedly negotiated with Yedioth Ahronoth publisher Arnon Mozes for slanted coverage in return for legislation curbing rival Israel Hayom. The gravest, Case 4000, accuses him of trading favorable regulatory decisions for Walla news site endorsements while influencing its owner, Shaul Elovitch.
Netanyahu denies all wrongdoing, branding the probes a “fabricated” assault by a “corrupt judicial system” bent on ousting him. The trial, which commenced in May 2020, has weathered delays from COVID-19, the Gaza war, and Netanyahu’s repeated postponement bids—most recently rejected in November 2025, locking in his December testimony. Over 300 witnesses have testified, yet a verdict remains years away.
The pardon gambit has supercharged Israel’s already combustible body politic. Netanyahu’s supporters, galvanized by far-right allies, hail it as overdue rectification. Defense Minister Israel Katz proclaimed it would “end the deep rift that has accompanied Israeli society for nearly a decade.” Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich echoed this, railing against a judiciary that “fabricated political cases” to persecute the premier.
Opposition firebrands frame the request as tyrannical overreach. Yair Lapid demanded in a video retort that any clemency hinge on “admission of guilt, an expression of remorse and an immediate withdrawal from political life.” Yair Golan thundered, “Only the guilty seek pardon.” Former military chief Gadi Eisenkot lambasted: “There cannot be one legal system for ordinary citizens and another for you.” Naftali Bennett floated a conditional olive branch: pardon in exchange for retirement, early elections, judicial reform abandonment, and an October 7 inquiry—terms Netanyahu has ignored.
The streets have become a battleground. Hours after the announcement, dozens—swelling to thousands by nightfall—massed outside Herzog’s Tel Aviv residence, waving placards decrying a “banana republic” and chanting “No pardon!” Anti-corruption activist Shikma Bressler warned: “People of Israel understand what is at stake, and it really is the future of our country.” She accused Netanyahu of “destroy[ing] the judicial system” after his legislative push faltered post-October 7. Demonstrator Moshe Radman spat: “Netanyahu is trying to run from his trial.” Ami Dror implored Herzog: “Your duty is to protect Israeli democracy… and if you demolish law and order, this might be the end of Israeli democracy.”
Netanyahu’s tenure, spanning over 18 years across three stints since 1996, has been defined by economic booms, security hawkishness, and unyielding controversies. His 2023 return to power birthed Israel’s most right-wing coalition, igniting the judicial reform furor that paralyzed the nation until war intervened. Now, with elections mandated by October 2026, Netanyahu vows to campaign, but polls forecast coalition woes. A pardon could unshackle him, yet experts predict denial might nudge a plea—ironic, given Netanyahu’s aversion.
As Herzog weighs his verdict—potentially weeks away—Israel teeters. This is no mere legal footnote; it is a referendum on whether power trumps probity in the world’s sole Jewish democracy. The scars from this trial endure, a stark reminder that in Netanyahu’s Israel, division is the true verdict.
