Last week I joined 45,000 Israelis and went to hear Paul McCartney play at Yarkon Park. I admit that initially, I balked at the 500 shekel ticket but eventually I was convinced that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity - and it was.
The ticket bought a place on the grass, first come, first served. Friends managed to get in as soon as they opened, around 5:30, and stake out our territory fairly close to the stage. Until seven we lounged leisurely on the grass, eating and drinking. I went for a walk to find a few of the many friends I knew were in attendence, which would not have been possible without a cellphone - go find someone you know in a crowd of 45,000 (in fact, it was difficult to get people on the phone, probably because of the intense call load in the immediate area where everyone was looking for someone else). When I made my way back to my friends around 7:15 most people were no longer sitting on the grass, but standing up, and when I finally spotted them it was all I could do to make my way through the tangle of bodies to rejoin them. There was literally no empty space on the ground to put my feet but somehow I made it.
As the eight o'clock starting time drew closer, more and more people pushed their way towards the stage. There was nowhere to move without touching someone and the collective heat output was unbearable. When eight o'clock, and then eight fifteen passed with no Paul McCartney I was on the verge of giving up and moving to an open space where I wouldn't be able to see the stage but where I could breathe. Then, as I asked myself for about the tenth time, "why am I doing this?" the lights on the stage went on and he was there. In that moment, as he played the opening chords to "Hello,Goodbye" every physical discomfort was suddenly meaningless.
Dressed in an impeccably tailored suit, the jacket of which he shortly removed to reveal a pink shirt embroidered with flowers and suspenders, he is as slim as a young man. Although he has probably had some work done on his face, there wasn't the slightest whiff of an aging rocker about him. He seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself singing and playing those same tunes for the umpteenth time. He opened by saying, "Shalom Tel Aviv" and "Shana Tova," and he introduced several of his songs in Hebrew from a crib sheet he charmingly glanced at. He even threw in a few words in Arabic, although I doubt there were many Arabs in the crowd.
The atmosphere was magical and I couldn't help trying to imagine what it must be like to hear 45,000 people singing the words to the songs you wrote, full of love and excitement just to be in the same physical space with you. Only about half his selections were Beatles songs - the rest were from Wings and onwards. There were even a few I had never heard before. I guess there can be life after the Beatles, even for Paul McCartney.
The finale was, of course, Hey Jude, or as he introduced it, 'Ahalan Jude.' The crowd sang the "Nananana" chorus until he and the band came back on stage and did two encores. When it was finally over he could have just walked off the stage but he took the mike and said, "it's time for you to go home!"
"No!" roared the crowd.
The exchange continued for a few minutes until he finally waved and disappeared into the darkness.
What a musician. What a performer. What a guy.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Things Are Heating Up Around Here
Summer may be ending but the political arena is finally getting warmer after months of boredom. Not surprisingly, Tzipi Livni took the Kadima primaries on Wednesday but the fallout was heavy. All the polling companies predicted a significant victory for her over Shaul Mofaz, but when the ballots were actually counted her advantage was only around four hundred votes. What is the excuse for this gross statistical miscalculation? It seems the exit poll voters pulled a fast one on the pollsters by lying about their votes, a very interesting ploy. It may be understood as a classic example of the Israeli desire to beat the system. It may also be an expression of frustration with a political culture obsessed with the public's opinion. Perhaps this attempt to mess with the system is actually a cry of desperation from an electorate weary of politicians who determine their policy based on the feeling of the Israeli street? Perhaps it's a demand for the return of political leaders who lead according to their own inner moral compass? Where are the Begins, the Rabins, the Sharons who pursued policy despite what the people wanted? Give us a politician who tells us what we do not want to hear, but knows best (Barak and Netanyahu need not apply).
P.S. At least one of the polling companies has announced that it will not longer run exit polls for primary elections.
The second very interesting development is Shaul Mofaz's announcement that, in the wake of his loss to Tzipi Livni in the Kadima primaries, he is leaving politics for now. If there were any doubts about Mofaz's integrity, this move affirms them all. There's only one word for a guy like this: quitter. Politics is a tough, dirty business, especially in Israel. Even a successful person like Mofaz, who worked his way up from a poor family to become chief of staff of the Israeli army, and then Minister of Defense in the government, has many detractors. His claim that the media was against him might be true (two days before the primaries there were five editorials in Haaretz, three about the election and all heavily in favor of Livni); since they largely represent the Ashkenazi establishment he might, as a Mizrahi Jew, feel justifiably discriminated against, although we can be sure that many other Mizrahi Jews voted for Mofaz simply because of his ethnic background. No matter how many dirty tricks his opponent's people played on him and no matter how he analyzes his loss, Mofaz has a responsibility to all of the people who worked tirelessly on his campaign and all of the people who gave him their votes of confidence to stay in the game and represent them, even if he lost the contest. If I had voted for him I would be bitterly disillusioned over his announcement to quit.
Mofaz evidently feels insulted by the Livni's smear campaign against him. "They tried to portray me as a political wheeler dealer, a stupid, depraved man, despite all I contributed," Mofaz was quoted in Haaretz. One of the commentators suggested Mofaz felt the media had manipulated the announcement of the exit polls to turn away his voters while the polls were still open - in short, a conspiracy. He also mentioned Mofaz's dislike of Livni and his defeat by a mere 1.1%, the ultimate insult. One needs a very thick skin to play the political game in Israel, which Mofaz evidently does not have, but I think his surprising exit from the highest reaches of government (pundits were predicting that Livni would give him the foreign ministry post) might really be about reporting to a woman boss. Not only does Mofaz come from a deeply chauvinistic ethnic culture but he rose through the ranks of the Israeli army, the ultimate homegrown macho, chauvinistic institution, to lead and symbolize it. At the risk of sounding politically incorrect I would like to point out that our former, now disgraced president Moshe Katzav is a native son of the same Persian culture so notorious for its deeply ingrained view of women as inferior to men. It's dangerous to generalize but I speak now as a woman, regardless of my ethnic background. Some men, no matter how accomplished, are incapable of accepting women as their equals and I believe that Shaul Mofaz is one of them. He can declaim a littany of shortcomings about Livni as a politician but the bottom line is he would rather go home and sulk rather than report to a woman. The welfare of the state, the party, the future of the Jewish people - suddenly, they can manage just fine without Shaul Mofaz. I never liked him anyway, so good riddance. Although, mark my words: he'll be back.
P.S. At least one of the polling companies has announced that it will not longer run exit polls for primary elections.
The second very interesting development is Shaul Mofaz's announcement that, in the wake of his loss to Tzipi Livni in the Kadima primaries, he is leaving politics for now. If there were any doubts about Mofaz's integrity, this move affirms them all. There's only one word for a guy like this: quitter. Politics is a tough, dirty business, especially in Israel. Even a successful person like Mofaz, who worked his way up from a poor family to become chief of staff of the Israeli army, and then Minister of Defense in the government, has many detractors. His claim that the media was against him might be true (two days before the primaries there were five editorials in Haaretz, three about the election and all heavily in favor of Livni); since they largely represent the Ashkenazi establishment he might, as a Mizrahi Jew, feel justifiably discriminated against, although we can be sure that many other Mizrahi Jews voted for Mofaz simply because of his ethnic background. No matter how many dirty tricks his opponent's people played on him and no matter how he analyzes his loss, Mofaz has a responsibility to all of the people who worked tirelessly on his campaign and all of the people who gave him their votes of confidence to stay in the game and represent them, even if he lost the contest. If I had voted for him I would be bitterly disillusioned over his announcement to quit.
Mofaz evidently feels insulted by the Livni's smear campaign against him. "They tried to portray me as a political wheeler dealer, a stupid, depraved man, despite all I contributed," Mofaz was quoted in Haaretz. One of the commentators suggested Mofaz felt the media had manipulated the announcement of the exit polls to turn away his voters while the polls were still open - in short, a conspiracy. He also mentioned Mofaz's dislike of Livni and his defeat by a mere 1.1%, the ultimate insult. One needs a very thick skin to play the political game in Israel, which Mofaz evidently does not have, but I think his surprising exit from the highest reaches of government (pundits were predicting that Livni would give him the foreign ministry post) might really be about reporting to a woman boss. Not only does Mofaz come from a deeply chauvinistic ethnic culture but he rose through the ranks of the Israeli army, the ultimate homegrown macho, chauvinistic institution, to lead and symbolize it. At the risk of sounding politically incorrect I would like to point out that our former, now disgraced president Moshe Katzav is a native son of the same Persian culture so notorious for its deeply ingrained view of women as inferior to men. It's dangerous to generalize but I speak now as a woman, regardless of my ethnic background. Some men, no matter how accomplished, are incapable of accepting women as their equals and I believe that Shaul Mofaz is one of them. He can declaim a littany of shortcomings about Livni as a politician but the bottom line is he would rather go home and sulk rather than report to a woman. The welfare of the state, the party, the future of the Jewish people - suddenly, they can manage just fine without Shaul Mofaz. I never liked him anyway, so good riddance. Although, mark my words: he'll be back.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Embrace Change
There's nothing like spending August in New York during a year of both Olympics and upcoming presidential elections to reinforce the American part of my identity. The showcase of American athletic talent on display in Beijing was an inspiring advertisement for the power of both the individual and the state in a democracy. Those wholesome, corn-fed, free-range gymnasts exhuded an honesty that seemed out of reach to the robotic pre-teen Chinese girls, and Michael Phelps' accomplishments renewed the time-worn idea that every individual retains the potential to do what has never been done before.
Even more exciting has been following the nominations for Democratic and Republican candidates for president. The fact that a woman and a black man were the two main contenders for the Democratic nomination is an astounding development in the advancement of the American democratic system. The monopoly of American presidential politics since the country's inception by white, anglo-saxon, protestant men has finally been busted. Millions of under-represented, disenfranchised citizens finally feel their votes might actually count for something. As a result of Barack Obama's nomination, the number of voters expected to go to the polls in 2008 will break all records, and this is a true victory for democracy. Even if the Democrats lose, the revolution has been won because a regression to the old domination is unthinkable. The Republicans proved this by choosing a woman to run on the vice-presidential ticket. As conservative and reactionary as she may be, her presence still represents 51% of the citizens of the United States and their stake in the future of the country.
So, as a proud American, what messages can I bring back with me to Israel and our Palestinian neighbors this year? First of all, change is a good thing. We are a work in progress and we must continue to search for new options, new formulas and new leaders. It always seems safer to rely on the familiar but perhaps the keys to our most difficult issues are lying in an unobtrusive place, waiting to be discovered? Tzipi Livni is the most promising face in Israeli politics today. The Israeli WASP (white, ashkenazi, smolani (left-wing) paratrooper) old boys club is always quick to put down a woman for being soft and militarily inexperienced, but I have long maintained that if women were running the Middle East our conflicts would have been solved long ago. Livni is extremely intelligent, hard-working, pragmatic and honest and her lack of an army career means she will be much more capable of thinking outside the narrow, formulaic box of retired generals. Viva la difference!
The other message I would like to impart, particularly to the Palestinians, is that even in a healthy democracy change does not take place overnight; it's a painstakingly slow, laborious process that regresses a step backward for every two forward. It took one hundred years after the elimination of slavery before the civil rights act was passed to finally guarantee equal rights to blacks in America, and over forty years since then for a black man to represent a major party in presidential elections. It's a long, uphill slog but it can be, and has been, done. However, to paraphrase an American writer, with dreams come responsibilities. When Barack Obama raised the issue of the failure of black men as fathers to a black audience he demonstrated that the ability to question inwardly and to accept responsibilty for failure is a critical characteristic of true leadership. Is there a Palestinian leader out there somewhere who is capable of galvanizing a nation of under-represented, disenfranchised citizens under the flag of true equality and freedom for all? I doubt it, but being American means you never lose hope.
Even more exciting has been following the nominations for Democratic and Republican candidates for president. The fact that a woman and a black man were the two main contenders for the Democratic nomination is an astounding development in the advancement of the American democratic system. The monopoly of American presidential politics since the country's inception by white, anglo-saxon, protestant men has finally been busted. Millions of under-represented, disenfranchised citizens finally feel their votes might actually count for something. As a result of Barack Obama's nomination, the number of voters expected to go to the polls in 2008 will break all records, and this is a true victory for democracy. Even if the Democrats lose, the revolution has been won because a regression to the old domination is unthinkable. The Republicans proved this by choosing a woman to run on the vice-presidential ticket. As conservative and reactionary as she may be, her presence still represents 51% of the citizens of the United States and their stake in the future of the country.
So, as a proud American, what messages can I bring back with me to Israel and our Palestinian neighbors this year? First of all, change is a good thing. We are a work in progress and we must continue to search for new options, new formulas and new leaders. It always seems safer to rely on the familiar but perhaps the keys to our most difficult issues are lying in an unobtrusive place, waiting to be discovered? Tzipi Livni is the most promising face in Israeli politics today. The Israeli WASP (white, ashkenazi, smolani (left-wing) paratrooper) old boys club is always quick to put down a woman for being soft and militarily inexperienced, but I have long maintained that if women were running the Middle East our conflicts would have been solved long ago. Livni is extremely intelligent, hard-working, pragmatic and honest and her lack of an army career means she will be much more capable of thinking outside the narrow, formulaic box of retired generals. Viva la difference!
The other message I would like to impart, particularly to the Palestinians, is that even in a healthy democracy change does not take place overnight; it's a painstakingly slow, laborious process that regresses a step backward for every two forward. It took one hundred years after the elimination of slavery before the civil rights act was passed to finally guarantee equal rights to blacks in America, and over forty years since then for a black man to represent a major party in presidential elections. It's a long, uphill slog but it can be, and has been, done. However, to paraphrase an American writer, with dreams come responsibilities. When Barack Obama raised the issue of the failure of black men as fathers to a black audience he demonstrated that the ability to question inwardly and to accept responsibilty for failure is a critical characteristic of true leadership. Is there a Palestinian leader out there somewhere who is capable of galvanizing a nation of under-represented, disenfranchised citizens under the flag of true equality and freedom for all? I doubt it, but being American means you never lose hope.
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