Few developments have the potential to shake the Israeli aviation market as profoundly as the possibility of granting the airlines of the United Arab Emirates-led by Emirates and FlyDubai-seventh-freedom traffic rights from Ben Gurion Airport.
If implemented, such a move would do far more than alter Israel’s international route map. It would effectively redefine the relationship between the state, national aviation, free-market competition, and national security.
The debate is unfolding during one of the most extraordinary periods in the history of Israeli aviation. Following repeated waves of flight cancellations by Western airlines, Israel found itself in an almost unprecedented situation. The country was not disconnected from the world, but its air connectivity became increasingly limited, more expensive, and dependent on a relatively small number of operators.
Major European and American airlines reduced their presence or suspended operations altogether. Ryanair abandoned Ben Gurion Airport, apparently for good, while Wizz Air, which had once planned to establish a significant operational base in Israel, effectively froze those ambitions in the face of ongoing security and commercial uncertainty.
Into this vacuum stepped the Gulf carriers.
According to advanced discussions that have recently come to light, Israel is considering granting Emirates exceptional rights that would allow it to operate direct flights from Tel Aviv to destinations such as New York or Bangkok without routing the aircraft through Dubai. At the same time, FlyDubai could dramatically expand its operations and effectively become the primary connection hub for Israeli travelers.
Emirates has long been a heavy user of the so-called “fifth freedom” model, which allows an airline to fly from its home country to a second country and then continue onward to a third country while carrying passengers on the intermediate segment. For years, Emirates has successfully operated routes such as Milan–New York and Athens–Newark. The aircraft originates in Dubai but is also permitted to sell tickets between the two foreign countries.
Seventh-freedom rights, however, represent an entirely different level of market access.
Under a seventh-freedom arrangement, an airline is permitted to operate flights entirely between two foreign countries without any operational connection to its home state. In practical terms, Emirates could station aircraft and crews at Ben Gurion Airport and operate a Tel Aviv–New York service as though it were a local carrier.
Outside the European Union, such rights are exceptionally rare. Within aviation regulatory circles, they are often regarded as the equivalent of a strategic “doomsday weapon”-a tool used only in extraordinary circumstances.
For Israeli travelers, the advantages are immediately obvious.
After years of soaring fares, seat shortages, and dependence on either Israeli airlines or a limited number of foreign operators, the introduction of Emirates’ and FlyDubai’s enormous capacity could trigger a genuine revolution. Emirates operates one of the most advanced long-haul fleets in the world, including the Airbus A380 and Boeing 777, aircraft whose economies of scale are difficult for competitors to match.
Should Emirates enter transatlantic or Asian routes from Tel Aviv, ticket prices would likely decline significantly, particularly on routes where El Al has enjoyed near-captive demand during the recent crisis.
From the government’s perspective, there is also a clear diplomatic and strategic upside.
The expansion of Emirati airline activity is not merely a commercial issue. It represents a direct continuation of the Abraham Accords. The more Dubai becomes the central hub for Israeli travelers heading to Asia, Africa, and Australia, the stronger the economic and political ties between the two countries become.
Yet this is precisely where the concerns begin.
Aviation is not simply another consumer market.
For Israel, aviation is also a strategic national asset.
At moments of heightened security escalation, we have repeatedly witnessed how quickly foreign airlines can suspend operations. Some carriers canceled flights even before official government guidance was issued. The airlines that continued flying were primarily the Israeli carriers, operating with local crews, Israeli security systems, and a clear national commitment.
This lies at the heart of the argument advanced by El Al, Israir, and Arkia.
If the government allows airlines that benefit-directly or indirectly-from the support of wealthy Gulf governments to dominate the most profitable core routes, it may weaken the backbone of Israeli aviation precisely when the country needs it most.
To be fair, this argument cannot simply be dismissed.
The Gulf carriers enjoy enormous structural advantages. Fuel costs, taxation, airport fees, and operational expenses in Dubai are substantially lower than those faced by airlines operating in Israel. Gulf carriers do not bear the unique security expenses imposed on Israeli airlines, and they benefit from significantly broader global networks.
Under such circumstances, direct competition between El Al and Emirates on a route such as Tel Aviv–New York would not truly be competition between equals.
An even greater concern involves what antitrust economists describe as “predatory pricing.”
An airline with deep financial backing can afford to operate routes at extremely low profit margins-or even temporary losses-in order to weaken local competitors. Once those competitors have been sufficiently marginalized, the dominant carrier can capitalize on its enhanced market position.
There is also a geopolitical dimension to the debate.
Israel may ultimately find itself replacing one dependency with another.
For years, Turkish Airlines transformed Istanbul into the principal connection hub for Israeli travelers. When political relations deteriorated, that gateway effectively closed overnight.
The question now being asked is whether Israel is on the verge of turning Dubai into the “new Istanbul.”
And if so, what happens if relations between Israel and the United Arab Emirates cool in the future? What if broader regional considerations begin influencing the policies of Gulf airlines?
The controversy also exposes a deeper divide between two competing philosophies.
On one side stands the open-skies approach: let the market operate freely, allow consumers to benefit from lower fares, and stop protecting local monopolies.
On the other side stands the national-carrier approach: a small country facing persistent security threats cannot afford to surrender its aviation independence entirely.
Israeli travelers unquestionably need more competition.
Airfares during the recent crisis reached unsustainable levels. The departure of Ryanair and the suspension of Wizz Air’s expansion plans, combined with the reduction or cancellation of services by other Western carriers, created a market that became both smaller and considerably more expensive.
At the same time, the argument that Israel cannot afford to reach a point where virtually all global routes are dependent on a single foreign airline is not unreasonable.
That is why the real question is not whether Gulf carriers should be allowed to expand in Israel. In practice, that process is already underway. FlyDubai alone now operates ten daily flights from Ben Gurion Airport.
The real question is how far Israel is prepared to go-and whether it fully understands the strategic price that may accompany such a decision.
If Emirates is ultimately granted seventh-freedom rights on transatlantic routes, it will represent a historic turning point in Israeli aviation.
Consumers may well benefit in the short term. Ben Gurion Airport may become more connected than ever before.
But Israel may also discover that in aviation, as in energy and defense, excessive dependence on a foreign provider-even one that is exceptionally friendly today-is always a strategic gamble.
During those difficult days, it often seemed as though the Air Force’s prestige had been diminished. Many questioned how a terrorist organization had managed to launch such a large-scale attack without the Air Force preventing it beforehand. Others asked how it had failed to stop the assault once it was underway. Still others wondered whether the era in which air power could decisively shape military campaigns had finally come to an end.
Two and a half years later, the picture looks dramatically different.
Not only did the Air Force recover from the trauma, but during 2025 and 2026 it delivered a series of operational achievements that may one day be remembered as one of the most impressive periods in its history.
The campaign known as “Am K’lavie” (“Rising Lion”) during 12 days of June 2025 was the moment when the Air Force once again transformed itself from a symbol of unanswered questions into a symbol of capability.
The world watched as hundreds of Israeli fighter aircraft operated thousands of kilometers from home, striking strategic targets deep inside Iran, destroying air-defense systems, command centers, military infrastructure, and facilities connected to Tehran’s nuclear program. For the first time in the history of the Middle East, a regional air force operated with near freedom over one of the largest, most populous, and most heavily defended countries in the region.
The achievement was not merely the attack itself, but the manner in which it was executed.
For decades, Iran’s surface-to-air missile network had been regarded as one of the principal obstacles to any potential strike. On paper, Tehran possessed hundreds of launchers, Russian and indigenous air-defense systems, radar networks, and command-and-control centers designed to prevent hostile aircraft from penetrating Iranian airspace.
In practice, during the campaign against Iran, the Israeli Air Force – working in close coordination with intelligence organizations, electronic warfare units, and other elements of Israel’s defense establishment-managed to dismantle significant portions of Iran’s air-defense network and achieve a level of operational freedom that few believed possible.
In many ways, it represented a modern return to the foundational doctrine upon which the Air Force was built during the era of commanders Motti Hod and Benny Peled: first achieve air superiority, and only then strike strategic targets deep inside enemy territory.
The second campaign, “Roar of the Lion,” (called in the US "Epic Fury") further reinforced the perception that the Air Force had entered a new era.
Beyond the strikes themselves, the campaign revealed a much broader systemic capability: the integration of stealth fighters, unmanned aerial systems, intelligence aircraft, satellites, cyber capabilities, and artificial intelligence into a multidimensional operational framework unlike anything previously seen in Israeli military history.
For the first time, it also showcased an unprecedented level of operational coordination with the United States Air Force. The partnership functioned flawlessly, demonstrating a degree of interoperability that impressed even Israel’s closest military partners.
The change of command at the top of the Air Force also symbolized the transition from one era to another.
Major General Tomer Bar, who led the Air Force through one of the most difficult periods in the country’s history, transferred command this year to Major General Omer Tishler.
Bar will likely be remembered as the commander who faced an almost impossible challenge: rebuilding Israel’s air deterrence after October 7 while simultaneously managing a prolonged, multi-front campaign that lasted for many months.
Tishler inherits an Air Force that is strong, experienced, and confident – but one that also faces entirely new challenges.
