For years, as a director of a philanthropic foundation, I lived by a specific set of coordinates. In our professional circles, there is a “holy grail”: scalable impact. In short (very short, but sadly very typical of the way our work is perceived): a foundation identifies a social challenge, develops a potentially sustainable solution, invests resources to pilot and test it, and then pursues the ultimate win: persuading the government to adopt and scale it. An even better win would be one in which the two final stages happen in parallel: the pilot is already funded in partnership with the government, creating an early commitment for further investment. For a professional leading a foundation, the most effective way to convince a board to back a long-term strategy is to demonstrate a clear path toward this perception of success: If we can just get the state to ‘take the wheel’ and implement the model we’ve de-risked – mission accomplished.

While this strategy is often sensible, it carries a hidden cost: the pursuit of broad impact subtly shifts our internal compass. We find ourselves searching for the “acceptable” challenge, one the government is likely to adopt, and which trustees will therefore view as a safe investment. In doing so we begin to assess our goals through the state’s eyes, narrowing our vision to ideas that don’t “rock the boat.” This focus on ‘digestible’ wins constricts our philanthropic lens. We inadvertently decouple the success of a specific project from the broader health of the society we inhabit, transitioning from social architects to specialized vendors. We stop asking the fundamental question: Are we sustaining a democratic infrastructure in which our achievements can survive? Without a healthy civic infrastructure, even our greatest project successes are built on shifting sand.

To illustrate this, let’s look at two sectors where philanthropy in Israel has long felt safe and impactful:

In Israel, almost all arts and culture entities are nonprofits or private institutions heavily reliant on a delicate balance of philanthropic grants and government support. Historically, the Ministry of Culture and Sports has sustained these creators through professional, transparent, and equitable mechanisms designed to ensure the basic ability to create. For a philanthropic foundation, funding a specific exhibition in a museum feels like a safe investment when it aligns with its artistic taste and is bolstered by the state’s ongoing commitment to the institution’s core budget. But what happens if we widen the lens and see that the museum can no longer safely exhibit certain artists due to government restrictions on artistic expression? If a foundation continues to fund a specific “safe” project while the institution’s broader ability to provide a platform for diverse or controversial voices is being dismantled, is that foundation truly achieving its mission? Or is it simply subsidizing a shrinking space for the sake of safeguarding its investment?

This same blindness often haunts educational philanthropy. For example, in Israel, programs like science and cyber-tech are “safe bets”  with a high potential for a successful integration into the national curriculum. Yet, without a defined value system, we fall into an ethical trap. What happens when a foundation celebrates the state’s adoption of its excellence program, only to realize the model is being implemented in every school except those in the Arab sector? Ultimately, this narrow focus may leave us defenseless when the wider educational framework shifts. We become silent partners in a hollow achievement. Can we truly claim victory for a science lab if the system it sits in is being systematically stripped of its commitment to equality and human rights?

In both examples, our focused commitment to project-based impact blinds us to a broader collapse. We celebrate a successful “exit strategy” while the very infrastructure of our society is being hollowed out. By prioritizing the efficiency of a single, state-sanctioned voice over the messy friction of a healthy democracy, we do more than just ignore the symptoms: we risk becoming silent facilitators. We fail to realize that the framework has already shifted. In our pursuit of impact, we may find we have inadvertently provided the resources and legitimacy for the very anti-democratic processes that now limit our freedom to act.

A Systematic Effort to Reduce Reach

A recent policy paper published by the Institute for Law and Philanthropy at Tel Aviv University indicates a clear trend of direct injury to the fundamental aspects of an independent democratic civil society in Israel. This is not a series of random events, but a deliberate effort to minimize the ability of civil society to operate in spaces that are critical of government policy. The government’s recent offensive is as wide as its fears, targeting the very pillars of civic life:

The Regulatory Net: A proposed NGO Law (The Associations Law Amendment, 2025) directly undermines pluralism, the essential foundation of a healthy civil society. By targeting organizations that receive foreign state funding, the law seeks to silence groups by demanding they abstain from vital social change activities—such as participating in protests, meeting with MKs, or operating in the territories, under the threat of heavy taxation and litigation fees. While the law targets fewer than 200 organizations, its true impact is the creation of a systemic chilling effect that penalizes ideological diversity and sets a dangerous precedent for the entire sector.

Blacklisting of Critics: In January 2026, the Chairman of the Knesset Finance Committee initiated a “blacklist” of 150 organizations, including several philanthropic foundations, labeled for “selective enforcement” regarding their reporting. The list disproportionately targets liberal or critical groups while ignoring similar gaps in pro-regime organizations, effectively shaming and marking specific social actors.

Academic Siege: A radical 2025 amendment to the Higher Education Law seeks to place the Council for Higher Education under absolute ministerial control. This would allow the government to bypass professional bodies on matters of “national importance” and impose financial sanctions on institutions that do not comply, forcing university heads to choose between academic freedom and economic collapse.

Constraining the Creative Space: We are seeing a systematic attempt to collapse the wall between politics and art. By shifting support to commercial success metrics, the government is effectively abandoning non-commercial genres like documentary films, student art, and peripheral cultural centers. Furthermore, the cancellation of prizes and the threat to stop funding artist unions create an environment where creators must align their content only to survive.

The Cost of Neutrality

I often sit in meetings where the conversation on philanthropic investment turns to “risk management.” Many foundations fear that engaging in efforts to safeguard the civic space will jeopardize their ability to operate in safer fields like education, health, or welfare. They fear for their names and reputations and for their ties with officials.

But the truth I’ve learned across decades of leadership is that neutrality in the face of a shrinking civic space is a choice with profound consequences. Supporting the foundational integrity of the sector is not a partisan act; it is a defensive one. If we shy away from defending the very independence of the institutions we fund, whether they are universities facing ministerial takeover or cultural centers facing content censorship, we hand over the legitimacy of our own mission to those seeking to narrow it.

When we isolate our projects from the broader health of the society we inhabit, we are making a calculation that someone else will absorb the risk of defending the system. But as the recent offensive shows, no field, no matter how “safe,” is truly protected from the chill.

A Call for Philanthropic Courage

We are witnessing an unfair game. The state increasingly treats philanthropy as a contractor for technical outputs while systematically dismantling the independence of the very civic space that makes our work possible. By staying silent, philanthropy effectively abandons NGOs – those with the least power – to defend the soul of our civic culture alone.

What is required now is a fundamental shift in perspective. We must move beyond the act of managing isolated projects while the infrastructure around them collapses.

In Israel, this challenge is sharpened by the relentless pressure of a prolonged conflict. In the face of constant war, the urge to pivot entirely toward humanitarian relief is natural and cooperating with the government is often essential at times of emergency. But we cannot afford to treat the emergency and the democratic infrastructure as separate silos. It is precisely during such a crisis that we must be most vigilant: addressing the urgent needs of the hour without forfeiting our values.

We must ensure that even in the noise of emergency, all voices are heard.

This shift in perspective requires a new level of dialogue between foundation professionals and their boards: a shared willingness to name the reality we are in.

To my fellow professionals: I say this with deep empathy: I know it is incredibly difficult to sit before a board after years of work and admit that you can no longer promise a “safe” impact because the environment itself has become hostile. Leadership today does not mean abandoning your projects; it means looking beyond them. It means managing the everyday tasks while remaining vigilant of the horizon, deciding in real-time where your red lines lie and how you will protect the values that make your work meaningful.

To the board members: This is a call to keep your heads above the tide. Your responsibility is to balance the short-term successes of the foundation’s projects with the long-term survival of the democratic framework. We cannot outsource the risk of this moment to those with the least power; we cannot expect NGOs to defend the soul of our civic culture while we remain comfortably silent. Ask yourselves: Is our commitment to impact isolated from its ideological roots? There are times when the mission is not to produce more bureaucratic results, but to ensure that a space still exists where diversity, human rights, and equal opportunity can legally survive.

Yes, taking a stand carries risks. It may thin our networks or chill our relationships with government ministries. But if philanthropy is to matter, it must take on the work of repair.

We must trade the comfort of easy impact for the necessity of philanthropic courage.

Practically, this courage is not a one-time checklist, but a commitment to active awareness and a principled, ongoing response. Drawing from global lessons[1] in civil society resilience and the unique needs of our local landscape, this means finding the path to:

Listen and Learn Beyond the “Tunnel”: We must move beyond our own isolated projects to actively listen to our partners. We cannot respond to a reality we choose to ignore; our specific missions in health or education cannot survive if the civic space itself is compromised.

Identify and Reassess our Red Lines: This is a continuous internal dialogue. We must constantly ask: Which government actions make our partnership impossible? Have we reached that line? And if so, how do we act?

Establish a “Collective Shield”: We must adopt a clear communal stance: an attack on one organization’s right to operate is an attack on the entire sector. By standing together, we ensure that no single foundation or NGO is isolated or “divided and conquered” by political pressure.

Incentivize Cross-Sector Alliances: We should encourage building bridges between partners who may seem unrelated: from traditional social service NGOs to tech-driven civic activists and impact investors. While their methods differ, they all depend on the same oxygen: a stable, pluralistic, and free civic space. By fostering these cross-sector alliances, we ensure that the defense of our democratic infrastructure is recognized as a collective necessity for any form of progress.

Monitor the Regulatory Net and Act Early: We must support the ongoing documentation of laws that constrict the sector. The key to defeating regressive legislation is to prevent it from gaining traction in the first place by educating ourselves and cultivating legislative champions early.

Invest in Storytelling and Legal Defense: We must help our partners tell their stories in a way that connects to the public’s needs, shielding them from delegitimization. Simultaneously, we must ensure they have the emergency legal and security resources to weather politicized audits or investigations.

Stand with our Partners on the Front Lines: We must remain steadfast when our grantees are targeted. This means providing the moral and professional backing necessary to ensure that those with the least power are not left to face political pressure alone.

Philanthropy possesses a unique brand of independence fuelled by its own capital. This independence is not a luxury; it is a responsibility to protect the pluralistic space that allows us all to function. Choosing to act with courage does not mean deserting the vital projects we have built or the missions we hold dear. Rather, it means building the muscle of constant awareness—the ability to sustain our everyday work while simultaneously standing with the partners who make that work meaningful.

Philanthropy has a vital role to play in the work of repair of our democratic and liberal infrastructure. We will only endure if we act with clarity, a shared sense of purpose, and the bravery to protect the very foundations of our society.

[1] https://www.philanthropy.com/opinion/nonprofit-rights-are-under-attack-heres-a-7-part-playbook-to-fight-back/

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