Yitzhak Wasserlauf, the Minister for the Development of the Periphery, the Negev, and the Galilee, announced his intention to resign from the government following the approval of the ceasefire agreement with Hamas.
The following is his resignation letter [translated].
I joined Otzma Yehudit at the age of 18. It was a turning point in my life. From the young leadership of the National Union to Otzma LeYisrael at the time. Uri Ariel joined forces with Naftali Bennett under the banner of “Something New Begins.” I received offers to be part of the election campaign and take a position with a decent salary for my age.
When Ben-Ari asked at the time what the red lines of this party were, it was said that there were no red lines. I raised an eyebrow and shut the door on the National Union Party, heading into the wilderness of the electoral threshold.
Otzma Yehudit has run five times since then and failed to pass the threshold. I continued to show up in every campaign and gave it my all.
No one promised me budgets or jobs. I was promised only an ideological backbone. I was promised truth.
That’s what kept me going against all the mockery and the “pragmatists,” who always had explanations for why they clung to their seats. When we protested together and cried out, they always told us it was complicated, that what you see from here isn’t what you see from there.
They said it wasn’t black and white.
I said that when I reached that place, I hoped I wouldn’t be like them.
I prayed I would have the courage to stand in front of the mirror, in front of my values, in front of my inner truth, and not be dazzled by the honor and the glitter.
And now, the moment has come. The moment when I stand before myself in the test I have been preparing for my entire adulthood.
The test of truth.
I am an honest person, and I say honestly that if I weren’t a minister today, I would probably be protesting outside my own home against this deal.
Let me elaborate:
Life is indeed complicated—very much so. I will cry with emotion for every abducted person who returns home.
The day before yesterday, I went to the home of one of the parents whose daughters will be released in this deal. I knocked on the door, and my heartbeat knocked loudly too.
He opened the door, and I just hugged him. We sat together and cried.
I told him I was going to oppose the deal that would bring his daughter home.
I explained to him how unbearably difficult the decision was. And I also explained how much I want his daughter to come home.
Don’t envy us.
One eye cries bitterly, and the heart rejoices.
My conscience has been screaming since October 7. I feel like I’m in a continuous nightmare.
I tried to be everywhere I thought I was needed. I tried to provide answers to broken hearts.
I don’t know if I did enough—and maybe I didn’t, because it’s never enough.
But I did everything out of deep love for my people, out of the responsibility that accompanies my public mission.
I have never asked, nor did it matter to me, whether the person before me was religious or secular, what their faith was, or whether they were left-wing or right-wing.
We are a great people, and each one of us is a great soul. I cannot bear the classifications and sectarianism.
I have learned so much about our people in this year and a half of war.
Above all, I wanted to be a worthy messenger of all the strength, heroism, and dedication of our fighters and our wonderful nation.
I am proud of what my ministry has done during the war. We had the privilege of assisting and doing meaningful things, and we will summarize them later.
This deal, as described, does not align with my conscience.
Its long-term implications are catastrophic, potentially costing us dearly in blood.
Yesterday, I saw the tears in the eyes of my friend Limor, whose husband Shuli was murdered by a vile terrorist released in the Shalit deal.
I fear the release of hundreds of terrorists who have succeeded in murdering Jews or tried and failed, who are proud of their actions and eager to do it again.
I dread the Hamas victory image as they begin rebuilding Gaza and themselves, turning their evil back on our people.
I cannot face the families of the heroes who fell in this war striving for victory and decisive action against our enemies, while they watch with despair.
And what will we say to the families of hostages and victims, God forbid, who still have no names or faces?
I must act according to my conscience, and that is what I am doing.
I thank the Chairman of Otzma Yehudit, Itamar Ben Gvir, who taught me over the years to stand by principles, fight for our truth, and pay personal prices when necessary.
This is my opportunity to thank the heads of the councils in the Galilee and the Negev and the local government employees—who became my second family (or first) during this time. I want to thank all the employees of the Ministry for the Negev and the Galilee, who were and will continue to be the government’s commando unit. I thank my office staff, the ministry’s director-general, and his team for everything.
Together with my ministerial colleagues, I will announce my resignation after the deal passes in the government.
I will do so with a heavy but clear heart.
With God’s help, I pray together with everyone for good tidings and the success of our beloved state.
