Few Israeli institutions feel as familiar as Army Radio. For decades, it has been both a soundtrack and a cultural engine – a place where Israeli Hebrew loosened its ties and learned to speak as people actually speak. It is also, if we are honest, a bizarre arrangement: a military unit that competes in the civilian marketplace of news, politics, and entertainment.

That contradiction is precisely why the decision by Defense Minister Israel Katz to move toward closing Army Radio by March 2026 has detonated such a fierce argument.

Many of the loudest voices hear “closure” and immediately translate it as “silencing.” I understand that reflex. Israel’s media battles are rarely clean, and the line between reform and revenge sometimes gets smudged on purpose. But if we try, just for a moment, to argue the other side in good faith, there is a serious, even compelling, case that closing Army Radio – or at least removing it from military ownership – is a pro-democratic move.

The strongest argument is not about this presenter or that interview. It is about structure.

In a liberal democracy, the military is meant to be powerful in its mission and limited in its politics. The IDF must be trusted by all Israelis, and it must not be perceived as a political actor with its own media arm.

An illustrative image of a reporter for Army Radio (Galei Tzahal) taken in 2019.
An illustrative image of a reporter for Army Radio (Galei Tzahal) taken in 2019. (credit: MOSHE SHAI/FLASH90)

Israel is an outlier

Israel is an outlier here. Other democracies do have military broadcasting, but it typically limits its demographic to soldiers; it is not operating as a mainstream competitor in the domestic news ecosystem. The American Forces Network is designed to serve military communities abroad, not to be a stateside rival to civilian media. Germany’s Radio Andernach is even more explicit about audience boundaries; it is gated through registration and aimed at soldiers, reservists, employees, and their families.

I am not saying that Israel should copy another country’s model. The point is that most democracies have silently agreed to keep the military out of civilian political messaging. Army Radio’s very existence blurs that line, even if the station’s journalists work hard to maintain professional norms.

Defenders of Army Radio often say – correctly – that it has been editorially independent. However, Army Radio’s independence is not protected by design. When a newsroom sits inside a military hierarchy, its independence is ultimately contingent on that hierarchy. Once you accept that structure, you accept the vulnerabilities that come with it.

That is why the current legal and political fight matters so much. The attorney-general has reportedly warned that shutting down the station requires primary legislation rather than a cabinet decision, and framed the move as part of broader pressures on freedom of expression. Even those who advocate terminating the military ownership model should make it clear that any action taken should be transparent, legal, and subject to strict regulations.

And here is the devil’s advocate twist: moving Army Radio out of the IDF can actually strengthen press freedom, because it ends a system where a journalist’s independence exists at the pleasure of the chain of command.

If Israel wants a strong public-interest broadcaster, it already has one. If Israel wants military broadcasting, it can build a dedicated platform that is meant for soldiers. The hybrid is the problem.

The “soldier-journalist” is an ethical paradox that we pretend is not there

There is also a human reality that often gets buried beneath the nostalgia. Army Radio has been a launchpad for extraordinary talent, and many of Israel’s best journalists began there. But the model also asks 18-to-20-year-old soldiers to do something inherently strange: question senior officials – sometimes including the defense minister – while still being subject to military discipline.

Even if those young reporters are brilliant, the setup creates tension between two roles that are meant to be separate: soldier and reporter. It is not a moral accusation. It is a design flaw.

Then there’s the money – the least romantic part of the story and often the most persuasive.

According to reports by the committee process that reviewed the station, Army Radio’s annual budget was estimated at NIS 52 million, with roughly 87% funded by advertising and sponsorships. That’s not the money a small broadcaster makes. Those numbers indicate a commercial player, operating with structural advantages no private station can replicate.

This is where even people who love Army Radio should pause. If a station is truly a market competitor, it should compete like one. If it is truly a public service, it should be funded and regulated like one. The current model blurs the lines far too much.

Closing Army Radio is one answer. Privatizing it is another. Transferring it to a civilian public framework is a third. But “keep it exactly as it is” becomes harder to justify when the economic playing field is tilted by design.

Israel lives in a world where every sentence is clipped, translated, weaponized, and fed into narratives. When a high-profile outlet is formally an IDF station, outsiders can interpret internal Israeli debate as signals from the military establishment, even when they are not.

That confusion can harm Israel’s strategic clarity. And at a time when the IDF is fighting, investigating, and rebuilding trust, it is not unreasonable to argue that the military should reduce – not expand – the number of areas where its name is attached to civilian politics.

None of this means the closure should be done recklessly. Quite the opposite, in fact.

If the government chooses this path, it should commit to three principles.

First: protect the archive. Army Radio is a cultural repository and should be respected as such.

Second: protect the workers. They need a transition plan so that talented reporters can be absorbed into civilian frameworks. This would avoid turning journalists into collateral damage of a structural change.

Third: protect pluralism. If Israel is removing a major voice from the market, it must ensure the broader ecosystem remains competitive, independent, and diverse.

Because here is the bottom line: closing Army Radio is not necessarily a blow to democracy. If done properly, it can be a correction that makes Israel more consistent with the principle that the military defends democracy.