Now that Obama and Barkat are safely esconsed in their new offices we can direct all of our political angst toward the upcoming Israeli elections for the Knesset on February 10, 2009. The current surveys are predicting a major comeback for the Likud, which is expected to catapult from its current eight seats to more than thirty, soundly defeating Labor as it crashes and burns with under ten seats, and overtaking its current rival Kadima, with Tzipi Livni at the helm, with around twenty-six. With eight weeks to go, anything can happen to upset these predictions but the way things are looking now, our next prime minister will be Benjamin Netanyahu.
After being defeated, Israeli politicians don't trudge home with their tails between their legs and retire quietly from public life. Instead, they wait patiently for the disgrace to dissipate, and then rise miraculously, like a phoenix from the ashes, to return to the political arena and save the country from imminent disaster. The magic words seem to be, "I've changed. I've learned from my experience." The Israeli voter, who has a notoriously short memory, buys into the whole cycle - or recycle, as it were - no matter how bitter the disappointment was in the first round.
(Let it be noted that succesful paradigms for the reformed leader do exist, the best case-in-point being Yitzhak Rabin, who fell from grace thanks to his wife's illegal American bank account in his first round as prime minister in the early 80s. Like the idolotrous people of Israel sent back into the wilderness as a punishment, Rabin waited patiently in the political desert for close to ten years but ultimately returned to the prime minister's office, big-time, to initiate negotiations with the Palestinians with the blessing of an overwhelming majority of the electorate. In a theoretical mode, I can't help thinking what Hillary could have done with health care reform second time around, with the wealth of bitter experience she has accumulated. Wouldn't we all be better parents if we had to start over again when our children reached eighteen?)
Yet, the expected return of the Likud is not a simple case of Israeli amnesia. Instead, it signifies a deep flaw in the Israeli electorate's perception of the conflict with the Palestinians since the signing of the Oslo Accords. The cycle goes like this: the Palestinians initiate a wave of violence that claims a critical mass of Israeli casualties. A right-wing leader who, in the campaign claims to be a tough guy, is elected to put the Arabs in their place. He sends the peace process to the deep freeze, incurs the wrath of the family of nations and the security situation deteriorates. He is ultimately forced to make conciliatory gestures to the enemy, proving that there is no possiblity of maintaining any kind of status quo. The Israeli electorate realizes that the right cannot make the giant steps necessary to bring about significant change. The leader is booted out of office and the left is back in the driver's seat.
An earlier example of this pattern is Yitzhak Shamir's defeat by Rabin in 1992. The next round in the cycle was Netanyahu's election in May 1996, following Rabin's assasination and three major suicide bombings not long afterwards. Many who had voted for Rabin now questioned the remaining Labor leadership's ability to navigate the process and the Palestinian's committment to it. Bibi rode in on a campaign of 'full gas in neutral,' and attempted to halt the significant concessions Israel had planned to make to the Palestinians. In addition to isolating Israel from the international community, he was not able to stop the suicide bombings and was ultimately forced to rejoin the Palestinians at the negotiating table at the Wye plantation, even shaking hands with Arafat. Bibi was not able to fulfill the promise of improved security by putting the process on hold and suffered a humiliating defeat by Ehud Barak and the Labor party in 1999, one year before the expiration of his term of office.
Barak suffered his own fall from grace when he bankrupted the left's account by failing to negotiate a final agreement with Arafat in August, 2000 at Camp David. The 'true face' of the Palestinians was revealed when the second intifada broke out in September, 2000. In the face of Palestinian violence the people cried out for an iron fist and Barak was sent home by Ariel Sharon, the consummate Israeli tough guy. Sharon was not able to stop the waves of suicide bombers and the drive-by shootings with a hard line, hawkish approach. However, in one of the most brilliant maneuvers of Israeli politics, instead of allowing the left to unseat him, he chose to become the left by adopting two far-reaching strategies that were vehemently condemned by his own party, the Likud: the building of the separation wall and the disengagement from the Gaza strip. In fact, in order to implement these strategies he had to break away from the Likud and form Kadima, a new, centrist party, together with many of his political comrades who had come to the same conclusion - that the Likud was not capable of making the painful concessions demanded of Israel to put an end to the conflict.
And now we see the latest version of the cycle: the new wave of Palestinian violence is of course the constant rocket fire from the evacuated Gaza strip on Israeli civilian settlements. Everyone consciously understands that, given the current Palestinian political constellation, the only way to stop the rockets is the complete recapture of the Gaza strip, an undertaking that will no doubt result in many casualties and will have far-reaching implications for Israel and should therefore be considered very carefully. However, Bibi's meteoric rise in popularity indicates that the people want a tough guy in charge. Just as a leapoard cannot change his spots, Bibi is the same Bibi. The people clamoring for his reelection do not hear him speaking from two sides of his mouth - the belligerent, "they give, they get; they don't give, they don't get" side and the "Yes, Obama, I will work with you to bring peace to the Middle East" side. Irrelevant is the fact that Bibi's plan for 'economic peace' has been proven many times over to be a sham. The Israeli public wants to punish the Palestinians by electing someone who will give them nothing. The Likud, riddled with incompetent leadership and corruption and nearly erased from the political map just a few years ago, is once again poised to take the helm of the government of Israel. (It goes without saying that this scenario makes me sick.)
Ehud Olmert as prime minister was crucified for rushing into war with Lebanon. Ehud Barak as defense minister is roundly criticized for not launching a military operation into Gaza. Political leadership should be sent home when they fail but our reality is so complex that in many cases success and failure can only be measured in retrospect. The Israeli public wants instant results; the repetition of these voting patterns can perhaps be understood as a refusal to acknowledge that change is a slow process. Heaven help us.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Saturday, November 15, 2008
We Won
The long-awaited election day for the mayor of Jerusalem finally arrived last Tuesday. For several years I have been volunteering for Meretz, my party of choice, on election day. Usually I serve at a polling station registering voters as they come in, together with a board of two other party representatives and an official from the board of elections. The remaining parties often have observers present, so everyone can ensure that the voting is done according to the rules. This year I asked for the vice secretary position because the head has to accompany the official to city hall to turn over the ballot box. This is done after all the votes have been counted, late at night, and I had to get up early for work the next morning. I had the last shift, from 6-10 pm, including the count after the polls closed.
I was assigned to a poll at a school in Givat Massua, a largely secular new nightborhood on the southwestern edge of the city. When I arrived at 6, many parents with young children were waiting on line to vote, a good sign. I presented my credentials to the board of elections official, a stunningly beautiful young woman named Natalie who had just recently finished her army service and was earning a handsome salary for this one-day stint. Turned out that Natalie was not the sharpest tool in the shed. The other two party reps at the table, also very young, were more interested in keeping records for their own parties than running the show according to the rules and Natalie wasn't laying down the law. When a twelfth grader with short hair presented his ID, where he had long hair, Natalie assured him, "You look much better now." While she went out for a smoke, a man came in, presented his ID and almost voted when I realized he was not on our list, because he was at the wrong polling station. When Natalie came back I asked her to call out the voters' names in order to ensure we had the right person but she ignored me (the end result was a descrepancy of ten voters between the lists because of the chaos).
The seventeen-year old from the right-wing National Union seemed to think he was at a student council meeting, suggesting frequently that we discard the protocol and just do things the quick way. Another young man with strawberry blonde pais, from the ultras, replaced him for a while and seemed to take things a bit more seriously. Watching from the side were two observers: the Shas guy, a tall, gangly university student who wasn't even wearing a kippa, with whom I enjoyed a surprisingly enlightened discussion on the Jewish roots of democracy during a lull; and Arcady Gaydamak's rep, a kid named Shlomi right out of central casting. Dressed in tight jeans with a wide leather belt, a gold earring and sporting longish hair, he was the classic image of what we used to call a chach chach, better known in my kids' generation as an arse. (I caught him and Natalie about to light up their cigarettes in the room after we closed the poll and sent them you-know-where.)
A crisis erupted when Edna, the woman in charge of all the polling stations in the school, came around to ask who was going with Natalie to city hall after we finished counting. "I can't, my brother's in the hospital," said the third member of the board, a ditzy law student from Nir Barkat's party. "I'm not going," declared Matan the 17 year-old, "I have to be at school at 7:30 tomorrow." I'd be damned if they stuck me with that job. "You're the head," I told Matan. "It's your job to go." He proceeded to throw a tantrum. I tried to explain to him that he had been given a responsibility with his position but it was like a teacher trying to convince a ninth-grader to stay after school - the kid couldn't have cared less about the responsibility. Since there was no one else, I reluctantly volunteered to go.
When it came time to count the votes, Natalie fell apart. Despite clearly-written instuctions from the board of elections about what to do, she was helpless. Luckily, Edna read the situation and showed up to run the show. We had to open and count 580 envelopes for the mayor and 580 envelopes for the city council. Everyone pitched in to get the job done with a surprising esprit de corps, considering what a bunch of jerks most of them had been earlier in the evening. Even Shlomi helped open envelopes, although after a while he got bored and put on his sunglasses. "Where did they find you?" I asked him.
Not surprisingly, Nir Barkat took this station by a landslide. My party, Meretz, did very well too, so well that 17 and blond pais began making cracks about the friggin' liberals (smolanim maniakim) every time a Meretz vote was registered. (Later on blond pais smiled at me and apologized if he had hurt my feelings.) In the end, the ditzy law student whose brother was in the hospital discovered her boyfriend was going to city hall with another polling station, so she volunteered to go and I was off the hook. I still got home at 2 am.
I'm thrilled to report that the ultra-orthodox candidate for mayor of Jerusalem was defeated by Nir Barkat, thanks to the fact that secular Jerusalemites took the time and trouble to vote, which typically hasn't been the case in the past. I think that many people realized the dire situation ahead if the city remained in religious hands for another five years. Barkat is still a question mark but hopefully he will not disappoint - I will be keeping tabs on him.
I was assigned to a poll at a school in Givat Massua, a largely secular new nightborhood on the southwestern edge of the city. When I arrived at 6, many parents with young children were waiting on line to vote, a good sign. I presented my credentials to the board of elections official, a stunningly beautiful young woman named Natalie who had just recently finished her army service and was earning a handsome salary for this one-day stint. Turned out that Natalie was not the sharpest tool in the shed. The other two party reps at the table, also very young, were more interested in keeping records for their own parties than running the show according to the rules and Natalie wasn't laying down the law. When a twelfth grader with short hair presented his ID, where he had long hair, Natalie assured him, "You look much better now." While she went out for a smoke, a man came in, presented his ID and almost voted when I realized he was not on our list, because he was at the wrong polling station. When Natalie came back I asked her to call out the voters' names in order to ensure we had the right person but she ignored me (the end result was a descrepancy of ten voters between the lists because of the chaos).
The seventeen-year old from the right-wing National Union seemed to think he was at a student council meeting, suggesting frequently that we discard the protocol and just do things the quick way. Another young man with strawberry blonde pais, from the ultras, replaced him for a while and seemed to take things a bit more seriously. Watching from the side were two observers: the Shas guy, a tall, gangly university student who wasn't even wearing a kippa, with whom I enjoyed a surprisingly enlightened discussion on the Jewish roots of democracy during a lull; and Arcady Gaydamak's rep, a kid named Shlomi right out of central casting. Dressed in tight jeans with a wide leather belt, a gold earring and sporting longish hair, he was the classic image of what we used to call a chach chach, better known in my kids' generation as an arse. (I caught him and Natalie about to light up their cigarettes in the room after we closed the poll and sent them you-know-where.)
A crisis erupted when Edna, the woman in charge of all the polling stations in the school, came around to ask who was going with Natalie to city hall after we finished counting. "I can't, my brother's in the hospital," said the third member of the board, a ditzy law student from Nir Barkat's party. "I'm not going," declared Matan the 17 year-old, "I have to be at school at 7:30 tomorrow." I'd be damned if they stuck me with that job. "You're the head," I told Matan. "It's your job to go." He proceeded to throw a tantrum. I tried to explain to him that he had been given a responsibility with his position but it was like a teacher trying to convince a ninth-grader to stay after school - the kid couldn't have cared less about the responsibility. Since there was no one else, I reluctantly volunteered to go.
When it came time to count the votes, Natalie fell apart. Despite clearly-written instuctions from the board of elections about what to do, she was helpless. Luckily, Edna read the situation and showed up to run the show. We had to open and count 580 envelopes for the mayor and 580 envelopes for the city council. Everyone pitched in to get the job done with a surprising esprit de corps, considering what a bunch of jerks most of them had been earlier in the evening. Even Shlomi helped open envelopes, although after a while he got bored and put on his sunglasses. "Where did they find you?" I asked him.
Not surprisingly, Nir Barkat took this station by a landslide. My party, Meretz, did very well too, so well that 17 and blond pais began making cracks about the friggin' liberals (smolanim maniakim) every time a Meretz vote was registered. (Later on blond pais smiled at me and apologized if he had hurt my feelings.) In the end, the ditzy law student whose brother was in the hospital discovered her boyfriend was going to city hall with another polling station, so she volunteered to go and I was off the hook. I still got home at 2 am.
I'm thrilled to report that the ultra-orthodox candidate for mayor of Jerusalem was defeated by Nir Barkat, thanks to the fact that secular Jerusalemites took the time and trouble to vote, which typically hasn't been the case in the past. I think that many people realized the dire situation ahead if the city remained in religious hands for another five years. Barkat is still a question mark but hopefully he will not disappoint - I will be keeping tabs on him.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Denial Ain't A River in Egypt
Elections for the mayor of Jerusalem are a little over a week away and I find myself in crisis mode because it turns out my candidate is a big idiot. For months I have been privately campaigning for Nir Barkat, trying to convince everyone I know that he is the man who is going to save Jerusalem from the shtetl politics of the ultra orthodox. He has never attempted to hide the fact that he falls on the right side of the political spectrum (the wrong side, in my opinion) but I had heretofore been willing to forgive his misguided understanding of national issues because he has many of the qualities imperative for a mayor to take Jerusalem where it needs to go: he's a dedicated Zionist, a good businessman, he has an impressive record of activism in educational initiatives, he's got some good contacts in the eastern part of the city and he has a long-term plan with well-defined goals.
But now it seems I've been overruled. Barkat made a visit to the east Jerusalem village of Anatot with some right-wing extremists this week and promised them he would build a new Jewish neighborhood there if he wins the election. In the wake of what can easily be understood as a provocation, Haaretz ran an editorial urging the large left-wing parties to withdraw their support for Barkat. Until now I have suggested tolerating a right-wing statement or two but Barkat's gesture of support to people who represent some of the most divisive and belligerent approaches to Jerusalem is appalling. It's not only the political statement, but the fact that he made it knowing it would infuriate one of his most loyal circles of supporters. Does he think we're all stupid, or is this a desperate attempt to woo right-wing voters away from the ultra orthodox candidate? The educated, secular, left-leaning Jerusalemites, although a fast-disappearing minority in the city demographic, are amongst this town's most loyal voters. If Barkat thinks he can afford to lose us then he is not who I thought he was.
Last night I attended a cultural event of the above-mentioned demographic and people spoke in hushed tones about how Barkat will never be able to win now. I'm very regretful that when I attended that parlor meeting with him several weeks ago, together with a roomful of people like me, no one knew to put him squarely on the spot and extract a clear statement about his right-wing intentions. He cannot be oblivious to the damage he has inflicted on his campaign and I am waiting for a statement from him to put me at ease. The bottom line is that I will still vote for him because even a right-wing jerk is preferable to an ultra-orthodox mayor, but at the moment I am bitterly disappointed in what I thought was an excellent candidate. Tomorrow night I will attend a Meretz meeting and see what all the big shots have to say about this.
But now it seems I've been overruled. Barkat made a visit to the east Jerusalem village of Anatot with some right-wing extremists this week and promised them he would build a new Jewish neighborhood there if he wins the election. In the wake of what can easily be understood as a provocation, Haaretz ran an editorial urging the large left-wing parties to withdraw their support for Barkat. Until now I have suggested tolerating a right-wing statement or two but Barkat's gesture of support to people who represent some of the most divisive and belligerent approaches to Jerusalem is appalling. It's not only the political statement, but the fact that he made it knowing it would infuriate one of his most loyal circles of supporters. Does he think we're all stupid, or is this a desperate attempt to woo right-wing voters away from the ultra orthodox candidate? The educated, secular, left-leaning Jerusalemites, although a fast-disappearing minority in the city demographic, are amongst this town's most loyal voters. If Barkat thinks he can afford to lose us then he is not who I thought he was.
Last night I attended a cultural event of the above-mentioned demographic and people spoke in hushed tones about how Barkat will never be able to win now. I'm very regretful that when I attended that parlor meeting with him several weeks ago, together with a roomful of people like me, no one knew to put him squarely on the spot and extract a clear statement about his right-wing intentions. He cannot be oblivious to the damage he has inflicted on his campaign and I am waiting for a statement from him to put me at ease. The bottom line is that I will still vote for him because even a right-wing jerk is preferable to an ultra-orthodox mayor, but at the moment I am bitterly disappointed in what I thought was an excellent candidate. Tomorrow night I will attend a Meretz meeting and see what all the big shots have to say about this.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Left and Right Are Irrelevant In Jerusalem
Perhaps one of the most salient characteristics of Israeli culture is its tendency to politicize everything, and to infer a world view based on an identification of 'right' or 'left.' Ethnic background, economic status, education and religiosity are all common idicators of what have become deeply ingrained prototypes of Israeli partisan political positions. In fact, when in doubt, there is even a simplistic, one-question litmus test that will determine an individual's political bias : What would be worse for you: to have a sister who is a prostitute, or a son who is gay? (Anecdotal evidence suggests that right always answers the latter and the left the former.)
It is interesting to note that the formation and the initial success of the Kadima party in Israeli politics is a fulfillment of the prophecy of "the big bang." This theory that says that in the widely-acknowledged demographic reality of a growing parity between Jews and Arabs in our little sliver of earth, the creation of a Palestinian state is not only inevitable, but is imperative for the future survival of the state of Israel. This understanding erases the traditional differences between right and left and enables the formation of a fusion, centrist party that combines the left's willingness to compromise and the right's suspicion and caution. The traditionally left-wing platform of negotiations with the Palestinians has been elevated to the level of national consensus and the proof is in the pudding: amongst the founders of Kadima were Ariel Sharon and Shimon Peres, ideological arch enemies from the right and left for decades who ended their political careers on the same partisan bench, together with a host of well-known Israeli politicians from both Likud and Labor.
However, the positions of left and right are alive and well when it comes to the future of Jerusalem, still a volatile issue for the Israeli electorate. Just insert the words, "...will divide Jerusalem" after the name of any potential candidate for office to guarantee defeat at the polls (see Bibi Netanyahu's defeat of Shimon Peres by less than 1% in the 1996 prime ministerial elections). Anyone running for mayor here with a modicum of political saavy understands that talking about the division of the city is taboo, especially since the secular population of Jerusalem leans heavily to the right. A smart candidate, no matter what he truly thinks, will signal right in his campaign.
I'd be the first to castigate a politician who is dishonest about an important issue in his campaign - except for Jerusalem. This city's future is a national, and not a municipal issue. Anyone with half a brain understands that the fate of the capitol will not be decided in city hall, but in the Knesset. With all due respect to the mayor of Jerusalem, the future division of the city is none of his business. The mayor's job is to reverse the trend of strong populations leaving the city, to create jobs, to build tourist infrastructure, to provide affordable housing for young couples, to clean up the streets and to strengthen the educational system. The mayor must have a vision of Jerusalem twenty years down the road and the perseverance to lay the groundwork for the next generations of residents. The ultra-orthodox candidates have proven that they are not up to the task; our best option is uncharismatic, right-wing but enterprising Nir Barkat. It infuriates me to read that some of the leaders of the Meretz party, my political home, will not cast their votes for him because he is right wing. Wake up, you idiots! Right and left are irrelevant in this election. Jerusalem needs a capable leader who can rise above partisan and sectorial politics to tap the extraordinary potential the city has to be a fabulous home for its residents and a wonderful place to visit.
It is interesting to note that the formation and the initial success of the Kadima party in Israeli politics is a fulfillment of the prophecy of "the big bang." This theory that says that in the widely-acknowledged demographic reality of a growing parity between Jews and Arabs in our little sliver of earth, the creation of a Palestinian state is not only inevitable, but is imperative for the future survival of the state of Israel. This understanding erases the traditional differences between right and left and enables the formation of a fusion, centrist party that combines the left's willingness to compromise and the right's suspicion and caution. The traditionally left-wing platform of negotiations with the Palestinians has been elevated to the level of national consensus and the proof is in the pudding: amongst the founders of Kadima were Ariel Sharon and Shimon Peres, ideological arch enemies from the right and left for decades who ended their political careers on the same partisan bench, together with a host of well-known Israeli politicians from both Likud and Labor.
However, the positions of left and right are alive and well when it comes to the future of Jerusalem, still a volatile issue for the Israeli electorate. Just insert the words, "...will divide Jerusalem" after the name of any potential candidate for office to guarantee defeat at the polls (see Bibi Netanyahu's defeat of Shimon Peres by less than 1% in the 1996 prime ministerial elections). Anyone running for mayor here with a modicum of political saavy understands that talking about the division of the city is taboo, especially since the secular population of Jerusalem leans heavily to the right. A smart candidate, no matter what he truly thinks, will signal right in his campaign.
I'd be the first to castigate a politician who is dishonest about an important issue in his campaign - except for Jerusalem. This city's future is a national, and not a municipal issue. Anyone with half a brain understands that the fate of the capitol will not be decided in city hall, but in the Knesset. With all due respect to the mayor of Jerusalem, the future division of the city is none of his business. The mayor's job is to reverse the trend of strong populations leaving the city, to create jobs, to build tourist infrastructure, to provide affordable housing for young couples, to clean up the streets and to strengthen the educational system. The mayor must have a vision of Jerusalem twenty years down the road and the perseverance to lay the groundwork for the next generations of residents. The ultra-orthodox candidates have proven that they are not up to the task; our best option is uncharismatic, right-wing but enterprising Nir Barkat. It infuriates me to read that some of the leaders of the Meretz party, my political home, will not cast their votes for him because he is right wing. Wake up, you idiots! Right and left are irrelevant in this election. Jerusalem needs a capable leader who can rise above partisan and sectorial politics to tap the extraordinary potential the city has to be a fabulous home for its residents and a wonderful place to visit.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
A Critical Election
The upcoming U.S. presidential election is the topic of the day for Americans, but this American is more focused on the November 11 election for the mayor and city council of Jerusalem. Those of you who have been with me since I started blogging know that the worrisome future of this city is one of the issues in Israel that is closest to my heart. As a secular Zionist who deeply believes in the centrality of Jerusalem to all of the Jewish people, I have stood my ground in this city for twenty three years as residents of my ilk have decamped, in alarming numbers, to the coastal plain. They have abandoned the city because many succesive Israeli governments have abandoned it, denying Jerusalem the resources and attention it needs in order to thrive and succeed as the capitol of the state of Israel and as a city representative of the great diversity of the Jewish people. The vaccuum has, of course, been filled by the ultra orthodox, whose sectarian interests and shtetl mentality have turned Jerusalem into a backward, poor, dirty excuse for an illustrious capitol. This process was accelerated in recent years by the ultra orthodox takeover of the Jerusalem mayor's office. Although Mayor Lupolianski is a very nice man, he is merely a puppet of the ultra orthodox establishment, which, through him, has made itself very clear: ultra orthodox interests supercede the welfare and the future of Jerusalem.
It wasn't always like this. Under the tutelage of Teddy Kollek, who reigned for twenty-eight years as the indefatigueable and undefeatable mayor of Jerusalem, the city experienced impressive development. This was thanks primarily to Kollek's excellent leadership and to the fact that he was utterly devoted to the city - he had no ambitions to move on to national politics from his prestigious office, but considered Jerusalem to be his life's project. At age eighty-two he was finally defeated by Ehud Olmert who, recognizing that his Likud party was temporarily on the downswing during the halcyon days of the peace agreement with the Palestinians, strategically chose to strengthen his political standing by taking a time-out from the Knesset and gaining international prestige throught the office of the mayor of Jerusalem. The position was merely a stepping stone for him, albeit slightly off the beaten path, in his return to national politics. Thankfully, he has reached the end of that road but during his ten years as mayor of Jerusalem he managed to lay the groundwork for the significant deterioration of the city by joining forces with the ultra orthodox political hacks in city hall. When Olmert left they were perfectly positioned to take over the mayor's office.
The secular public of Jerusalem is not without blame in this story, as most of them chose not to vote in the previous elections. However, hopefully many previously apathetic citizens now understand that the upcoming mayoral election is the last chance to save Jerusalem.
Who's running? The ultra-orthodox candidate, Meir Porush, has painted himself in his election posters as a cuddly grandpa but beneath the caricature is the scion of a greedy, manipulative, horse-trading dynasty of politicians whose candidacy is problematic amongst many of the ultra-orthodox subsets themselves. It's not yet clear whether he can garner the unwavering support of the entire sector, which is the only way he can possibly win (the ultras, needless to say, will do whatever their rabbis instruct them to do, whether it's to go out and vote or stay at home).
The jury is still out on Arieh Deri, who has until Tuesday to submit his candidacy. Deri, a well-known, extremely talented ultra-orthodox politician from the Shas party, was convicted of corruption after a meteoric rise on the political scene and went to jail for two years. The law prohibits a person convicted of crimes of 'moral turpitude' for running for political office for seven years, which for Deri means he cannot return to politics until January 2009. He applied to the court to run for mayor on the grounds that when he was convicted, the law required only a five-year waiting period. His request to run was denied and we are waiting to see if he chooses to appeal. If he runs, he will be difficult to beat despite his problematic past. Hopefully he will choose to remain out of the race. Although he is an excellent administrator, ultimately an ultra-orthodox mayor will, first and foremost, look out for the ultra-orthodox interests.
The next candidate is Arcady Gaydamak, who is today a household name in Israel but about whom the less is said, the better. A billionaire Russian oligarch who made his fortune in shady arms deals with Angola and, despite his pretensions to local power, still does not speak Hebrew sufficiently, Gaydamak is a power-hungry, media-exposure freak who sees the state of Israel as his future kingdom. The current polls indicate he doesn't stand a chance; in fact, he might even draw votes away from the ultras. Hopefully, he will not pose a threat.
The man who is going to save Jerusalem is Nir Barkat, a local boy who group up in the city and has an impressive resume of experience in the army, high-tech and education. He is totally, one hundred percent dedicated to bring Jerusalem into the twenty-first century and tapping into the enormous potential the city harbors. He's smart, energetic, driven and actually has a vision of where the city should be in twenty years. He spent the last four years on the city council and is intimately acquainted with the day-to-day issues of running this town. It's true that he's somewhat right-wing but partisan politics are mostly irrelevant in this race. The future divison of Jerusalem will not be up to the mayor to decide, but rather the prime minister and the coalition. The mayor must be able to nurture and grow the city just under the radar of a future agreement with the Palestinians.
Nir Barkat seems to have a good chance of winning - if people come out to vote. It is to this goal that I am wholely devoting myself for the coming weeks. I interrogate every Jerusalemite I meet to make sure they are planning to vote for Barkat. I took my two seventeen-year-old daughters, who are now entitled to vote in mayoral elections, to get the ID cards required for them to cast a ballot. (I also proudly fulfilled my responsibility as a parent by convincing my daughter Shaked to come with me to meet Barkat and hear him speak at a parlor meeting.) I even convinced my father-in-law, a life-long communist, political cynicist and former Tel Avivian who is in a wheel chair, to vote (he doesn't care who wins but he'll do it for me). Those of you who are reading: if you know anyone sane who lives in Jerusalem please contact them and urge them to go out and vote on November 11: Nir Barkat for mayor, and any non-ultra orthodox party for city council. For me, it's as important as a matter of life and death.
It wasn't always like this. Under the tutelage of Teddy Kollek, who reigned for twenty-eight years as the indefatigueable and undefeatable mayor of Jerusalem, the city experienced impressive development. This was thanks primarily to Kollek's excellent leadership and to the fact that he was utterly devoted to the city - he had no ambitions to move on to national politics from his prestigious office, but considered Jerusalem to be his life's project. At age eighty-two he was finally defeated by Ehud Olmert who, recognizing that his Likud party was temporarily on the downswing during the halcyon days of the peace agreement with the Palestinians, strategically chose to strengthen his political standing by taking a time-out from the Knesset and gaining international prestige throught the office of the mayor of Jerusalem. The position was merely a stepping stone for him, albeit slightly off the beaten path, in his return to national politics. Thankfully, he has reached the end of that road but during his ten years as mayor of Jerusalem he managed to lay the groundwork for the significant deterioration of the city by joining forces with the ultra orthodox political hacks in city hall. When Olmert left they were perfectly positioned to take over the mayor's office.
The secular public of Jerusalem is not without blame in this story, as most of them chose not to vote in the previous elections. However, hopefully many previously apathetic citizens now understand that the upcoming mayoral election is the last chance to save Jerusalem.
Who's running? The ultra-orthodox candidate, Meir Porush, has painted himself in his election posters as a cuddly grandpa but beneath the caricature is the scion of a greedy, manipulative, horse-trading dynasty of politicians whose candidacy is problematic amongst many of the ultra-orthodox subsets themselves. It's not yet clear whether he can garner the unwavering support of the entire sector, which is the only way he can possibly win (the ultras, needless to say, will do whatever their rabbis instruct them to do, whether it's to go out and vote or stay at home).
The jury is still out on Arieh Deri, who has until Tuesday to submit his candidacy. Deri, a well-known, extremely talented ultra-orthodox politician from the Shas party, was convicted of corruption after a meteoric rise on the political scene and went to jail for two years. The law prohibits a person convicted of crimes of 'moral turpitude' for running for political office for seven years, which for Deri means he cannot return to politics until January 2009. He applied to the court to run for mayor on the grounds that when he was convicted, the law required only a five-year waiting period. His request to run was denied and we are waiting to see if he chooses to appeal. If he runs, he will be difficult to beat despite his problematic past. Hopefully he will choose to remain out of the race. Although he is an excellent administrator, ultimately an ultra-orthodox mayor will, first and foremost, look out for the ultra-orthodox interests.
The next candidate is Arcady Gaydamak, who is today a household name in Israel but about whom the less is said, the better. A billionaire Russian oligarch who made his fortune in shady arms deals with Angola and, despite his pretensions to local power, still does not speak Hebrew sufficiently, Gaydamak is a power-hungry, media-exposure freak who sees the state of Israel as his future kingdom. The current polls indicate he doesn't stand a chance; in fact, he might even draw votes away from the ultras. Hopefully, he will not pose a threat.
The man who is going to save Jerusalem is Nir Barkat, a local boy who group up in the city and has an impressive resume of experience in the army, high-tech and education. He is totally, one hundred percent dedicated to bring Jerusalem into the twenty-first century and tapping into the enormous potential the city harbors. He's smart, energetic, driven and actually has a vision of where the city should be in twenty years. He spent the last four years on the city council and is intimately acquainted with the day-to-day issues of running this town. It's true that he's somewhat right-wing but partisan politics are mostly irrelevant in this race. The future divison of Jerusalem will not be up to the mayor to decide, but rather the prime minister and the coalition. The mayor must be able to nurture and grow the city just under the radar of a future agreement with the Palestinians.
Nir Barkat seems to have a good chance of winning - if people come out to vote. It is to this goal that I am wholely devoting myself for the coming weeks. I interrogate every Jerusalemite I meet to make sure they are planning to vote for Barkat. I took my two seventeen-year-old daughters, who are now entitled to vote in mayoral elections, to get the ID cards required for them to cast a ballot. (I also proudly fulfilled my responsibility as a parent by convincing my daughter Shaked to come with me to meet Barkat and hear him speak at a parlor meeting.) I even convinced my father-in-law, a life-long communist, political cynicist and former Tel Avivian who is in a wheel chair, to vote (he doesn't care who wins but he'll do it for me). Those of you who are reading: if you know anyone sane who lives in Jerusalem please contact them and urge them to go out and vote on November 11: Nir Barkat for mayor, and any non-ultra orthodox party for city council. For me, it's as important as a matter of life and death.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Paul McCartney in the Holy Land
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.
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.
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.
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