The murder that changed Israel. How the death of Yitzhak Rabin affected the fate of the Middle East
November 4, 1995. Tel Aviv. Tens of thousands of people gathered at Kings of Israel Square. They came to support the peace process that was supposed to end the decades-long conflict between Israelis and Palestinians. From the stage, Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin addressed the crowd—a renowned general who had lived through wars and was now trying to achieve peace.

The Assassination That Changed Israel: How the Death of Yitzhak Rabin Impacted the Destiny of the Middle East
Yet, just a few minutes later, an event occurred that shocked the entire world: Rabin was assassinated by an Israeli far-right extremist. This tragedy became a turning point in the country's history and dealt a severe blow to the peace process. Why did the murder of a single politician lead to such far-reaching consequences? How did it affect Benjamin Netanyahu's rise to power and Israel's subsequent relations with Palestine? And what do the events of that November night allow us to understand about the Middle East today?
November 4, 1995, is a date that forever divided Israel's history into "before" and "after." That evening, for the first time since the founding of the state in 1948, the country's top leader—Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin—was shot and killed.
We will examine how his death turned Israel's course 180 degrees, why the peace agreement with Palestine collapsed with Benjamin Netanyahu's rise to power, and what led to a powerful surge in Palestinian resistance movements. But most importantly, we will show how this fateful assassination, committed more than thirty years ago, predetermined today's chaos.
Yitzhak Rabin was born on March 1, 1922, in Jerusalem and is considered one of the most famous and iconic figures in Israel's history. His parents moved to Palestine in the early twentieth century. The future prime minister's father was born in the territory of present-day Kyiv Oblast (Ukraine), and his mother was born in Mogilev (Belarus). At the time of their birth, both regions were part of the Russian Empire.
In his childhood, Rabin graduated from an agricultural school and dreamed of peaceful labor on the land. However, fate decreed otherwise—he chose a military path. Starting in 1941, Rabin took a direct part in virtually all Arab-Israeli conflicts. His leadership qualities and military talent became evident during his first years of service, laying the groundwork for his rapid career growth.
The primary achievement of his military biography was the Six-Day War of 1967, which lasted from June 5 to June 10. At that time, Israel faced a powerful coalition of Egypt, Syria, Jordan, and Iraq. Thanks to sudden preemptive strikes, the Israeli army soundly defeated its adversaries. As a result, the territory under Israel's control increased more than threefold: the country took the Sinai Peninsula and the Gaza Strip from Egypt, the West Bank of the Jordan River and East Jerusalem from Jordan, and the Golan Heights from Syria. During that period, Rabin served as Chief of the General Staff, and it was his strategic decisions that played a decisive role in this historic victory.
Following the completion of his military service, Yitzhak Rabin entered national politics. In his early years, he served as Israel's ambassador to the US and as Minister of Labor. His political path was not easy: Golda Meir, who was serving as Prime Minister at the time, treated Rabin coolly, which temporarily slowed his advancement to the pinnacle of power.
However, everything changed in October 1973 with the outbreak of the Yom Kippur War. Israel suffered a surprise attack by Egypt and Syria. Although the Israeli army eventually repelled the strike, the country suffered severe human losses, losing more than two and a half thousand lives.
This war shattered the myth of Israel's complete invincibility, caused deep shock in society, and unleashed a storm of criticism against the leadership. Golda Meir and Defense Minister Moshe Dayan were accused of literally sleeping through the attack.
Against the backdrop of this crisis of trust, the country urgently needed a new leader. Society required a tough, proven general capable of restoring a sense of security. Yitzhak Rabin was ideally suited for this role: during the 1973 catastrophe, he was not implicated in the failure, as he was serving as ambassador to the US at the time; instead, everyone remembered him as the brilliant architect of the 1967 triumph. Rabin personified the military—the only institution people still trusted. Golda Meir's government resigned, the ruling Labor Party nominated Rabin as its new leader, and in June 1974, he became prime minister for the first time.
Yet, herein lay the central paradox of his fate. Having attained civilian power, the combat general felt a profound exhaustion from the endless bloodshed. He realized that genuine security and lasting peace were impossible without diplomacy. Rabin put forward a revolutionary idea that was dangerous to his own career—returning the territories occupied during the Six-Day War. However, in Israeli society, particularly among right-wing politicians and religious circles, the West Bank of the Jordan River—historical Judea and Samaria—was perceived as sacred Jewish land. The idea of "returning lands" met with fierce resistance.
As a result, in the 1977 elections, Rabin's Labor Party suffered a crushing defeat. This moment marked a historic turning point: for the first time in Israel's history, the right-wing Likud party, led by Menachem Begin, came to power. Right-wing forces governed the country continuously for the next fifteen years. Over time, however, protracted economic difficulties and growing social criticism shifted public sentiment. The demand for a peaceful settlement with the Arabs began to grow once more. People remembered Rabin as a man who sincerely sought compromise. His personal authority restored the party's former strength, and in the 1992 elections, Yitzhak Rabin made a triumphant return to the post of prime minister.
Rabin's second term was marked by a historic breakthrough—his government initiated direct, initially secret negotiations with the Palestine Liberation Organization. During this period, his relationship with his old political rival, Shimon Peres, who assumed the post of Foreign Minister, also warmed noticeably.
On September 13, 1993, an event occurred on the White House lawn that shocked the world. In the presence of US President Bill Clinton, Yitzhak Rabin and Yasser Arafat shook hands. The historic "Oslo Accords" were signed, laying the foundation for the principle of "two states for two peoples." Foreign Minister Shimon Peres signed the document on behalf of Israel, while key negotiator Mahmoud Abbas signed on behalf of Palestine.
The following year, 1994, the agreements began to be implemented: Israel commenced the withdrawal of its troops from the Gaza Strip and Jericho. The Palestinian National Authority was established in these territories, receiving civil powers ranging from education and healthcare to tax collection. In response, Palestine officially recognized Israel's right to exist and pledged to completely renounce terrorism.
For these unprecedented steps, Yitzhak Rabin, Shimon Peres, and Yasser Arafat were awarded the Nobel Peace Prize on October 14, 1994. The international community rejoiced, sincerely hoping for an imminent normalization of relations. Furthermore, the "Oslo II" agreement signed in 1995 expanded the rights of Palestinian self-rule even further. It seemed that peace in the Middle East was closer than ever.
Public Reaction: A Step Toward the Abyss
However, while Rabin was showered with awards abroad, inside Israel itself, these agreements triggered a profound rift. The country was literally divided into two irreconcilable camps. Supporters of peace viewed Oslo as a historic chance to end decades of war. Yet, the right-wing opposition, settlers, and Orthodox religious groups perceived this step as a catastrophe and a national betrayal.
Rabin's opponents were convinced that any territorial concessions would not bring peace, but would merely free the hands of terrorists and jeopardize the very existence of the state. The situation was further inflamed by radicals on both sides—terrorist attacks echoed across the country, claiming civilian lives and adding fuel to the fire of public rage.
A wave of aggressive protests swept through the streets of Israeli cities. The incumbent prime minister, a combat general and hero of the Six-Day War, was openly cursed and branded a "collaborator with the enemy." At opposition rallies numbering in the thousands, protesters carried signs depicting Rabin in a Nazi SS uniform or in an Arab headscarf—a keffiyeh. The level of political violence and personal hatred toward the country's leader grew with each passing day, relentlessly bringing a fateful assassination closer.
The Last Speech and Assassination
On November 4, 1995, approximately one hundred thousand people gathered at Kings of Israel Square in Tel Aviv. It was a massive rally of supporters of Yitzhak Rabin and the peace agreement. The prime minister addressed the crowd and uttered his prophetic words:
"There are no painless paths left for our people. But the path of peace is preferable to the trail of war."
At the moment when the square was still filled with applause and hope for peace, Rabin descended from the podium and walked toward his car. At that second, an assassin stepped out from the crowd—25-year-old Jewish far-right extremist Yigal Amir. He fired three shots at point-blank range, bringing the prime minister's life to an end.
This shot plunged Israel into a state of absolute shock. The nation could not believe that the assassin of the great general and state leader was not an Arab terrorist, but one of their own compatriots. Later, Amir cold-bloodedly told the police that he was completely "satisfied" with what he had done, as he believed he was saving sacred lands from being handed over to Palestine.
The tragedy exposed a terrible truth: the internal rift in society had reached a critically fatal level. A man who had dedicated his entire life to defending and strengthening the State of Israel died at the hands of an Israeli. Rabin's death entered history forever not merely as a political assassination, but as a profound moral catastrophe for the entire country.
Consequences of the Assassination and Netanyahu's Rise to Power
Following Rabin's death, his chief ally, Shimon Peres, assumed the post of interim prime minister. He headed the government for about seven months and hoped to continue the peace process by calling early elections.
In May 1996, Israel held direct elections for prime minister for the first time in its history. Initially, Peres was considered the clear favorite. However, a wave of brutal attacks by Palestinian resistance movements swept the country, completely altering voter sentiment. As a result, Peres lost by the narrowest of margins—less than one percent of the vote—to the leader of the right-wing Likud party, Benjamin Netanyahu. Thus, 46-year-old Netanyahu became the youngest prime minister in Israel's history.
With his rise to power, Israeli-Palestinian relations changed forever. As a harsh critic of the agreements signed by Yitzhak Rabin in Oslo, Netanyahu completely revised the key principles of the dialogue. He effectively buried the former formula of "land for peace," advancing instead the doctrine of "security for peace." The new prime minister demanded a complete cessation of terror from the Palestinian side as the primary condition for any concessions from Israel.
The outcome of this policy was a profound crisis of trust that destroyed Palestinians' faith in diplomacy. The Palestinian leadership completely lost hope in the possibility of creating an independent state through peaceful negotiations.
This vacuum of faith in the peace process and the extreme disillusionment of Palestinian society were quickly filled by resistance movements—primarily Hamas. It was this turning point that predetermined the logic of all subsequent events in the region.
The assassin himself—Yigal Amir—was sentenced to life imprisonment. Typically in Israel, even the most dangerous criminals can count on a pardon after twenty years. However, regarding Rabin's assassin, the Knesset passed a separate, personal law: he is doomed to remain in a solitary cell for the rest of his days without the slightest right to amnesty. Moreover, very recently, in the summer of two thousand twenty-six, his prison regimen was tightened even further—now any movement he makes occurs exclusively in shackles.
The topic of the death penalty for political criminals in Israel has always been extremely sensitive. In the country's history, this ultimate punishment has been applied only twice. The first time was in forty-eight, when Captain Meir Tobianski was executed by firing squad by mistake, and was later fully exonerated. The second time was in sixty-two, when Nazi criminal Adolf Eichmann was executed in Jerusalem.
However, in the spring of two thousand twenty-six, the Israeli parliament passed a new, highly controversial law establishing the death penalty for terrorists. But the paradox and cynicism of this document lie in the fact that it is drafted in such a way that it applies predominantly to the Palestinian population and resistance movements, effectively excluding Israeli citizens like Yigal Amir himself. This step has already drawn harsh criticism from international human rights organizations.
Despite the gravity of the crime, Israeli society has still not recovered from this trauma. Amir continues to have supporters among radicals who consider his act correct. Just a couple of months ago, an attempt to hang a banner in his support on a highway in Jerusalem ended in a violent street clash. The country remains divided: some demand peace, while others refuse to make any compromises whatsoever. The square itself, where the prime minister's blood was spilled, was renamed in his honor—it is now Yitzhak Rabin Square.
Years later, former Israeli Foreign Minister Yair Lapid, speaking in the Knesset, uttered words that remain relevant today:
"People like Yigal Amir are sitting in parliament today as well. And this is not a matter of left or right. Rabin's death was desired by those who opposed the very essence of democracy. After all, democracy is discussion and debate. If you don't like a law, you reject it; if you don't like a politician, you simply don't vote for them. But the murder of a politician is the execution of democracy itself."
Today, the geopolitical map of the Middle East has changed fundamentally. In the Arab world, interest in the Palestinian issue has declined noticeably—currently, key Sunni states in the region are far more concerned about the expansion of Shiite Iran. It is in the face of this shared threat that cooperation with Israel has become strategically advantageous for them. Over recent years, several Arab countries at once have signed peace agreements with Israel—the so-called "Abraham Accords"—completely changing the rules of the game in the region. Meanwhile, other states are currently actively preparing to normalize relations with Israel.
From time immemorial, the Middle East has remained a zone of constant and fierce confrontation. How to untangle this knot of contradictions was unclear both in Rabin's time and today.
However, history shows that even the most complex problems, at first glance, must be studied. After all, it is the events of the past that shape our present, and we must turn to it again and again to understand what is happening today.
And in concluding today's episode, I would like to leave you with food for thought—the opinion of the man who took charge of the country shortly after this tragedy. Benjamin Netanyahu himself later spoke about what happened, leaving an important warning for future generations:
"A Jewish murderer shot a prime minister. This is one of the darkest days in our country's history. And I will repeat again: political views must be expressed not with a weapon, but with a ballot in elections. Every citizen, every child must know the life path of this leader. For the fate of Yitzhak Rabin is forever woven into the history of our country."

