When a Wiz founder's investment becomes a test of Israel's institutions
The sale of Channel 13 (Reshet 13) to a group of investors identified with the heart of Israel’s high-tech industry, led by Wiz CEO Assaf Rappaport, has evolved into a broader question about legal certainty, regulatory independence, and investor trust.
For nearly four years, Israel has been consumed by a fierce debate over judicial reform. It has revolved around concepts such as reasonableness, judicial review, checks and balances, and the separation of powers. For much of the public, and for some investors as well, the discussion has sounded abstract and theoretical.
This week, however, the debate took on a concrete economic form: a private transaction between private investors that the government is effectively seeking to delay by challenging the authority of both the regulator and the court. Even if the government argues that there is no connection between the two, the practical result is the creation of a real risk that the deal will be postponed.
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Assaf Rappaport alongside Reshet 13 offices.
(Photos: Vered Barequet / Shutterstock, Omer Hacohen)
And this is not just any transaction.
At the center of the dispute is the proposed sale of Channel 13 (Reshet 13) to a group of investors identified with the heart of Israel’s high-tech industry, led by Wiz CEO Assaf Rappaport. The event carries broader significance for several reasons.
First, the investors are not anonymous financiers. They are entrepreneurs who have led some of the most successful exits and companies ever built in Israel.
Second, high-tech is no longer merely one sector of the economy; it has become Israel’s primary growth engine. According to the Israel Innovation Authority, high-tech exports reached $78 billion in 2024. In the first half of 2025, they accounted for 57% of all Israeli exports. The Authority’s 2026 report places that share at 58% and estimates that the sector contributes roughly half of the country’s economic growth.
Third, the transaction concerns an industry that depends heavily on foreign capital. About 70% of all capital invested in Israeli venture capital funds originates from foreign investors. In practical terms, roughly seven out of every ten dollars invested in Israeli technology companies come from abroad. The Innovation Authority notes that this ratio has remained largely unchanged for seven years.
The dependence becomes even clearer when examining research and development funding. Approximately 47% of business R&D financing in Israel comes from foreign sources, the highest rate in the OECD by a wide margin. The OECD average is about 9%, meaning Israel’s reliance on foreign R&D funding is roughly five times higher than that of the typical developed economy.
Fourth, over the past decade, high-tech has served as one of the economy’s main shock absorbers, allowing Israel to continue growing through security crises, political turmoil, and fiscal challenges.
When the government signals to this community of investors that a private investment could become entangled in a political struggle, the damage extends far beyond a single media transaction. It affects one of the most important sources of confidence in the Israeli economy.
Modern knowledge-based economies, particularly those dependent on foreign investment, do not rely solely on low tax rates, stable inflation, or attractive interest rates. They rely above all on institutional certainty.
An investor needs to know that once legal requirements have been met, due diligence completed, agreements signed, and the relevant regulator has granted approval, the fate of the transaction will be determined by law rather than political convenience.
This principle is not controversial in economic research. The institutional literature associated with scholars such as Douglass North, Daron Acemoglu, James Robinson, and Dani Rodrik repeatedly reaches the same conclusion: private investment depends on property rights, contract enforcement, regulatory certainty, and the predictable rule of law.
These ideas are not merely constitutional ideals. They are economic infrastructure.
Strong institutions reduce uncertainty. Lower uncertainty encourages investment, entrepreneurship, and innovation. Conversely, uncertainty acts like a tax on economic activity: it raises financing costs, delays transactions, and increases a country’s risk premium.
It is important to emphasize that the economic issue here is not whether the Reshet 13 deal is good or bad, nor is it the identity of the buyers. The concern is the precedent.
If a government can, through regulatory paralysis or by refusing to recognize a regulator’s decision that rests on a court ruling, delay a private transaction, every investor will inevitably ask a simple question: Could my deal become the next political battleground?
The implications extend well beyond the media sector. Infrastructure, finance, energy, healthcare, insurance, and technology all depend on predictable regulatory processes. The moment the key question becomes not “Is the deal legal?” but “Is the deal politically convenient?” the rules of the game change.
For years, Israel attracted international capital not only because of its innovation, but also because it was viewed as a country with strong institutions, an independent judiciary, and stable rules of the game. Precisely because high-tech has become the central pillar of the economy, any signal of institutional uncertainty carries far greater weight than the specifics of a single transaction.
Ultimately, investors do not invest only in technology. They invest in the system surrounding it. They evaluate whether property rights are protected, whether regulators operate independently, and whether legal decisions provide finality.
Once those assumptions begin to erode, the higher risk premium does not apply to one deal alone. It applies to the entire country.
That is why the current episode is more significant than the legal debate from which it emerged. For the first time, Israel’s institutional dispute is no longer confined to courtrooms and parliamentary committees.
It is entering investors’ boardrooms.
And at that point, it ceases to be merely a constitutional argument. It becomes a first-order economic question.
