Donald Trump publicly rebuked Israeli President Isaac Herzog on February 12, accusing him of shaming himself and the Israeli people by refusing to grant a pardon to Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. The comments came a day after Mr. Netanyahu met Mr. Trump at the White House and followed questions about accountability for Israel’s security failures that preceded the October 7 Hamas onslaught.
Herzog’s office replied swiftly, saying no decision has been made and that the matter remains subject to a legal review by Israel’s Justice Ministry. The statement stressed that the president will act only after receiving the ministry’s legal opinion and will decide based on the national interest and his conscience, free from external or internal pressure.
Mr. Trump framed the issue as a moral failing by Herzog, suggesting the president had declined to use the country’s chief clemency power out of fear of losing authority. He also told reporters that while “everyone has responsibility” for the security lapse in October, the assault was a “sneak attack” that few could have foreseen, even as he praised Mr. Netanyahu.
The exchange revives a months-long domestic and legal drama. Mr. Netanyahu has been on trial since 2020 on charges of bribery, fraud and breach of public trust. In November 2025 he formally requested a pardon after Mr. Trump, now identified in reports as intervening on his behalf, wrote to President Herzog urging what he called a “full pardon.” Protests erupted outside the president’s residence when the request became public, underscoring the rancour this bid for immunity has generated.
The episode pits three institutions against one another: a former — and now described as incumbent in some accounts — U.S. president exercising political influence, Israel’s largely ceremonial presidency contemplating the exceptional use of clemency, and an independent judiciary that has been prosecuting a sitting leader. Israel’s pardoning process typically requires legal advice from the Justice Ministry, and Herzog’s insistence on following that procedure reflects both legal constraint and a desire to shield the office from the appearance of political interference.
For international observers the matter raises broader questions about the norms governing foreign intervention in sovereign legal processes. It is unusual for a leader of one democracy to publicly pressure another’s head of state to override domestic legal proceedings. The episode may deepen divisions within Israel between those who view the prosecution as a politicised attack on a right-wing stalwart and those who see the rule of law as fundamental to democratic survival.
At home, the stakes are existential. A pardon for Mr. Netanyahu would likely provoke renewed mass protests and deepen polarization in an already strained society battling the aftermath of the October 7 attacks and an ongoing security crisis. Conversely, an insistence on legal due process risks alienating portions of the electorate who see the trial as a partisan weapon and who rallied behind Mr. Netanyahu amid the war.
Diplomatically, the incident could complicate U.S.-Israeli relations depending on how Jerusalem frames and defends its decision. Herzog’s emphasis on independence and legal procedure seeks to reassure both domestic and international audiences that Israel’s institutions retain autonomy even under intense pressure from a powerful ally and a charismatic political patron. The ultimate outcome will be a touchstone for debates about accountability, foreign influence, and the resilience of democratic norms in a country at war.