Benjamin Netanyahu, writes Michael Mandelbaum, might be the most successful leader in the democratic world today. During his tenure as prime minister—which, if he stays in office another year, will be even longer than even David Ben-Gurion’s—there have been, on average, fewer Israeli deaths per year from war and terrorism than under that of any of his predecessors. And despite having come to office (for the second time) in 2009, in the midst of a global recession, he’s presided over a period of remarkable economic growth. Still, he is anything but loved:

[F]or all his accomplishments [Netanyahu] is unusually unpopular. In Israel the political party that he leads, the Likud, has won less than one-quarter of the popular vote in the last three general elections, forcing him to assemble parliamentary coalitions in order to govern. Even many who vote for him—as anyone with a circle of Israeli acquaintances can attest—express serious reservations about him personally. Those on the left of the country’s political spectrum despise him. . . . Beyond Israel, Netanyahu’s unpopularity soars. . . .

Why . . . has someone with such achievements in both policy and politics earned the scorn, indeed, the hatred, of so many? Part of the answer lies in his longevity. Anyone in office, especially at the highest level, accumulates adversaries over the years. . . . In addition, Netanyahu and his wife Sara have displayed a penchant for luxurious living in a country founded on spartan ideals. They both stand accused, moreover, . . . of corruption. Mrs. Netanyahu has been indicted for misusing public funds and her husband is the subject of several investigations for similar misdeeds, which in the worst-case scenario could put an end to his political career.

While important to Israelis, these personal matters do not explain the low regard in which the prime minister is held in other countries. For this there is one major reason, which also has a great deal to do with the dislike Israelis on the left have for him as well as the willingness of their non-left-wing compatriots to keep him in office: the peace process. In the quarter-century since Yitzḥak Rabin and the leader of the Palestinian Liberation Organization, Yasir Arafat, signed the Oslo Accords, . . . Israelis and Palestinians have failed to make peace. The responsibility for that failure belongs to the Palestinians. . . .

The Palestinians have clearly demonstrated that they are not, to use the common phrase, “a partner for peace.” . . . If the efforts of his predecessors came to naught, it is odd, to say the least, to blame Netanyahu for not following in their footsteps. Yet the Israeli left and Western governments do blame him; and from that blame comes their disdain for him.

The wider Israeli public, however, living as it does next to the Palestinians and well aware of their 25-year record, knows where the responsibility for the persistence of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict lies. It also knows that, whatever his shortcomings, Netanyahu understands this basic fact of Middle Eastern life while his opponents at home and abroad do not. The public has confidence that he will not launch naïve and perhaps dangerous initiatives in an effort to please his domestic and foreign critics. That is why it has voted to keep him in power.

On Tuesday, representatives of Hamas met with their counterparts from Fatah—the faction of the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) once led by Yasir Arafat that now governs parts of the West Bank—in Beijing to discuss possible reconciliation. While it is unlikely that these talks will yield any more progress than the many previous rounds, they constitute a significant step in China’s increasing attempts to involve itself in the Middle East on the side of Israel’s enemies.

By contrast, writes Tuvia Gering, Taiwan has been quick and consistent in its condemnations of Hamas and Iran and its expressions of sympathy with Israel:

Support from Taipei goes beyond words. Taiwan’s appointee in Tel Aviv and de-facto ambassador, Abby Lee, has been busy aiding hostage families, adopting the most affected kibbutzim in southern Israel, and volunteering with farmers. Taiwan recently pledged more than half a million dollars to Israel for critical initiatives, including medical and communications supplies for local municipalities. This follows earlier aid from Taiwan to an organization helping Israeli soldiers and families immediately after the October 7 attack.

The reasons why are not hard to fathom:

In many ways, Taiwan sees a reflection of itself in Israel—two vibrant democracies facing threats from hostile neighbors. Both nations wield substantial economic and technological prowess, and both heavily depend on U.S. military exports and diplomacy. Taipei also sees Israel as a “role model” for what Taiwan should aspire to be, citing its unwavering determination and capabilities to defend itself.

On a deeper level, Taiwanese leaders seem to view Israel’s war with Hamas and Iran as an extension of a greater struggle between democracy and autocracy.

Gering urges Israel to reciprocate these expressions of friendship and to take into account that “China has been going above and beyond to demonize the Jewish state in international forums.” Above all, he writes, Jerusalem should “take a firmer stance against China’s support for Hamas and Iran-backed terrorism, exposing the hypocrisy and repression that underpin its vision for a new global order.”