For those who thought gambling on war was just a morally dubious way to pass the time, authorities in Israel have a newsflash: it’s also allegedly a crime. Omer Ziv, 30, and an unnamed Israeli air force major have been charged with using classified information to bet on the timing of military operations on Polymarket, the prediction market that apparently doubles as a leak detection system.
According to an indictment unsealed in Tel Aviv, the pair allegedly cooked up a scheme in June 2025 when Ziv spotted a Polymarket question: "Israeli military action against Iran before July?" The major, a reservist since 2009 who allegedly met Ziv while working at a gaming tech company, was soon called to active duty. Prosecutors say he fed Ziv confidential details about upcoming strikes, while Ziv placed bets across multiple Polymarket accounts with such stealthy usernames that they were, well, easily traceable.
The scheme allegedly paid off handsomely - about $128,000 in gains on the first bet alone, split between them after Israeli jets hit more than 100 targets in Tehran on June 12, 2025. The pair allegedly repeated the trick during the Twelve Day war and later during strikes on Houthi-controlled targets in Yemen, using a new account called "Methuselah" (presumably because betting on death and destruction requires biblical patience). Total profits: just over $152,000 in June 2025 alone, according to the indictment.
But as with all good schemes, the house of cards eventually wobbled. Polymarket users began speculating that these bets smelled of insider knowledge. Alarmed, Ziv allegedly canceled positions, changed usernames, and the pair deleted WhatsApp messages and wiped photos. Ziv even traveled to Barcelona for an online gambling conference, where he posed for a smiling group photo. Two days later, he was arrested. The major was detained shortly after.
Prosecutors have charged both men with bribery, security offenses, and obstruction of justice. Ziv faces an additional charge of aggravated espionage - unauthorized collection of secret information with intent to harm national security - which carries a potential life sentence. Only a handful of Israelis have ever been convicted of that charge, including a nuclear technician who leaked weapons details in 1988 and got 18 years, much of it in solitary. Ziv's lawyer didn't respond to requests for comment; the major's lawyers declined, but previously claimed their client made "significant contributions to the security of the state" and alleged improper conduct by investigators.
The case is a rare window into how prediction markets - where traders bet using crypto wallets - can turn military secrets into profit. Blockchains, which are both anonymous and permanent, left a trail: every transaction recorded, timestamped, and publicly accessible. When those transactions intersect with exchanges requiring ID, authorities can subpoena details. The press was initially gagged but a judge ruled on March 27 that "public hearings are the lifeblood of the democratic regime," lifting the ban on Ziv's identity. The major remains anonymous because, as one legal expert noted, naming him would put him "in grave danger" given his alleged knowledge of military secrets.
Only one other arrest has been made for similar behavior: a US soldier charged with insider trading relating to the removal of Venezuela's Nicolás Maduro. The differing charges - fraud versus espionage - underscore the lack of legal precedent when it comes to war gambling. As the indictment notes, Ziv allegedly warned five friends in a group chat to keep quiet about an imminent strike "so we don't go to jail." He was wrong about that part.