As a contributing writer for The New York Times Magazine, Ruth Margalit has carved out a distinct niche for herself, specializing in deep, psychological profiles of the figures shaping modern Israel’s political and cultural landscape. Now, her new essay collection, In the Belly of the Whale: Portraits from a Fractured Israel, brings together ten definitive pieces spanning the past decade.

Published in September, the book captures a society undergoing a profound and often alarming transformation. It charts the ascent of Israel’s right-wing vanguard—including figures like Itamar Ben-Gvir, the far-right minister of national security, and Yinon Magal, a prominent anchor for the pro-Netanyahu network Channel 14. Arranged chronologically, the profiles reveal a stark shift in tone. As the collective trauma and mania of life in Israel following the October 7, 2023, Hamas attacks reach a crescendo, the right-wing rhetoric of figures profiled six or seven years prior—such as Miri Regev, then the culture minister—suddenly sounds almost quaint.

Margalit, who was born and raised in Jerusalem, spent nine years studying and working in New York City before returning to Tel Aviv in 2019. Positioned at the intersection of insider access and external perspective, she offers a rare, nuanced lens on contemporary Israeli society. In a recent interview with Columbia Journalism Review, Margalit discussed how the country’s culture, politics, and media ecosystem have fundamentally warped in the wake of war, and how an upcoming parliamentary election—where Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu faces an opposition bloc led by former army general Gadi Eisenkot—could alter the nation’s trajectory.

“For large sectors of the country, there was a sense of vengeance, of wanting reprisal, and that can never be satisfied,” Margalit reflected on the post-October 7 psychology. “It’s just something that, as a society, we have to live with now.”


Chronology of a Rightward Shift: A Decade in Profiles

To understand where Israel stands today, Margalit argues, one must trace the steady, decades-long erosion of its political center. Looking back at her earliest profiles from ten years ago, the author admits she initially believed the political climate had reached a high-water mark of polarization. Netanyahu had just secured reelection, swearing in what was then widely characterized as the most right-wing government in Israeli history.

At the time, that cabinet included figures like Avigdor Lieberman and Naftali Bennett—politicians who are now considered part of the anti-Netanyahu opposition.

“There was no sense that things were going to get so much worse,” Margalit notes. However, assembling the book forced her to confront a continuous, unbroken narrative arc: a relentless intensification of nationalism and a systematic rightward creep across all echelons of public life.

The true psychological fracture point, she emphasizes, arrived on October 7. While casual observers often point to a rise in societal racism or generalized fear, Margalit identifies a more visceral underlying impulse among many of her interviewees: a deep, unbridled desire to unleash long-suppressed force.


Information Vacuums and Willful Blindness: The State of the Israeli Press

The conversation surrounding In the Belly of the Whale inevitably turns to the state of journalism and information consumption within Israel. In the aftermath of the Hamas attacks, Margalit observed a near-total information vacuum regarding the devastating human toll and physical destruction inside the Gaza Strip.

Mainstream Israeli audiences largely tuned out independent visual reporting from the enclave. Instead, domestic news consumption was mediated almost entirely through the lens of the Israel Defense Forces (IDF). Footage broadcasted to the public came predominantly from reporters embedded with military units, direct dispatches from the IDF spokesperson’s unit, or GoPro cameras mounted on soldiers’ helmets.

While outside observers might dismiss this as simple "willful blindness" on the part of the Israeli public—arguing that unfiltered internet access makes ignorance a choice—Margalit suggests the dynamic is far more complex.

“There was also a sense that the country was at war, and they did not want to engage with what they considered the enemy’s point of view,” she explains. Citizens across the political spectrum largely dismissed reports from opposing viewpoints as either hostile propaganda or doctored media. News consumption devolved into a tribal exercise: audiences parsed language not for objective truth, but to determine whether a journalist belonged to their political camp. If the reporter was deemed an ally, the story was welcomed; if not, it was easily discarded.

“There was just an unwillingness to sit with the facts of what was actually happening,” Margalit says. “To watch the mental games that people are able to play—that was deeply concerning for me as a journalist and as someone who lives in Israel.”


Supporting Data: The Backlash Against NAZA and the "Poison Machine"

Hostility toward the press is hardly a novel phenomenon in Israel, but the vitriolic domestic response to NAZA—a new documentary examining the IDF’s death toll and military conduct in Gaza—has shattered previous boundaries. The level of backlash has stunned media observers, culminating in threats from government ministers to strip the documentary’s filmmakers of their Israeli citizenship.

This hostility is fueled heavily by what critics have termed the "poison machine"—a coordinated network of right-wing media outlets and pro-Netanyahu media figures dedicated to attacking independent journalists and critics.

At the center of this ecosystem is Channel 14, a television network whose ratings have surged by relentlessly defending Netanyahu and broadcasting homogenous panel shows that echo official government talking points. While Channel 14 has capitalized on the NAZA controversy to whip up nationalist fervor, Margalit notes a more alarming development: the seepage of this extreme rhetoric into mainstream media outlets.

Rather than dismissing the documentary as poor hasbara (public diplomacy), many mainstream Israeli journalists have reacted with a profound, almost personal sense of betrayal. The prevailing sentiment among establishment commentators is not merely disagreement, but an incredulous, inward-looking anger: How could our own colleagues do this to us?


Official Responses and Media Access: The Paradox of Israeli Reporting

Paradoxically, while the institutional and rhetorical hostility toward foreign and independent media has reached a fever pitch, individual reporting in Israel retains a remarkable degree of personal accessibility.

When Margalit first reached out to Yinon Magal—the Channel 14 star anchor and one of Netanyahu’s most aggressive media defenders—she received an immediate text message asking, “Are you with me or against me?”, punctuated by a winking emoji, followed by an immediate invitation to his home.

This juxtaposition highlights a unique feature of the Israeli media landscape. While high-profile figures frequently rail against organizations like The New York Times for alleged systemic bias, they remain remarkably eager to sit down with individual reporters to "set the record straight."

Furthermore, the mechanics of reporting in Israel are defined by an intense, informal immediacy. Because the country is geographically small and heavily reliant on encrypted messaging platforms like WhatsApp, access is remarkably frictionless.

“You get them on the phone. It’s, like, a seasoned Mossad director, and you immediately see his profile photo with his family and his dog,” Margalit notes. “They’re constantly available. You can talk to them at eleven at night. There’s a level of familiarity that’s sort of innate… Everything is pretty authentic.”

This accessibility, however, has also been weaponized by savvy political operators. Margalit points to Itamar Ben-Gvir as a masterclass in modern media literacy. Ben-Gvir’s political ascent from a radical fringe activist in Jerusalem to the minister of national security was entirely engineered through an acute understanding of how to manipulate the press. By consistently making himself available to journalists and offering outrageous, headline-grabbing quotes, Ben-Gvir transformed himself from a performative fringe figure into a formidable, mainstream political powerhouse—a transition that Margalit describes as deeply chilling.


Implications: The High-Stakes Pivotal Election

As Israel looks toward its upcoming parliamentary election—where Netanyahu faces a formidable challenge from an opposition bloc led by former military chief Gadi Eisenkot—the stakes for the nation’s future could not be higher.

While public polling indicates that Israeli society has drifted significantly further to the right in the wake of October 7, Margalit cautions against fatalism, emphasizing that political trajectories are never entirely predetermined.

The implications of the upcoming vote extend far beyond electoral politics; they threaten to fundamentally redefine the rule of law, civil liberties, and the daily reality of the occupied territories. A victory for the opposition, Margalit suggests, could establish an immediate, palpable baseline for change—most notably in the West Bank, where a shift in political leadership could curb the unchecked rise of settler violence.

“That would be huge. That would be a start,” Margalit says, offering a fragile glimmer of hope amidst a deeply fractured landscape. Ultimately, In the Belly of the Whale serves as an urgent, unsparing reminder that while societies can rapidly descend into the depths of polarization and grief, the independent documentation of that descent remains essential to understanding how nations navigate their own undoing.