The Limits of Liberty

The greatest casualty of the COVID-19 pandemic may be our freedom. 

In 2019, the United States of America was rated highest in the world for pandemic preparedness, according to the Global Health Security index. While this may have been true in terms of overall command of resources, including some of the best scientists in the world, and the ability to martial the military to build field hospitals in times of need, none of these parameters took culture into account.  

The US is the global beacon for liberty, including personal, economic and political, and its democratic values have proved to be a great strength throughout much of its existence. America’s promise of protecting private property, including intellectual property, as well as the constitutional rights that ensure freedom of conscience and expression, have attracted talent and fostered innovation. A culture that supports questioning of authority and open dissent enables lateral thinking and self-improvement, which often translates into real economic benefits. 

When it comes to times of crisis, however, America has never fared particularly well. Even before the current unfolding crisis had begun to reveal the weakness of the American government’s response to the coronavirus (COVID-19) pandemic, I would have predicted a hesitance to take drastic measures, coupled with a failure to understand the extent of the threat. Still today, many Americans, from inconsequential online commenters to influential politicians, are either downplaying the extent of the threat or prioritising the economy over protecting the elderly and vulnerable.  

Some would be quick to blame the Trump administration for the current failure of American policy, and while it is rather difficult to defend his decisions at such a time, there is little evidence to suggest that another administration would have done better. Perhaps Obama would have had better foresight, perhaps not. We can, however, glean from established patterns of crisis response what would likely have been the response of any government. The Federal government’s handling of Hurricane Katrina and 9/11 in the 21st Century, and its reluctance to join the two world wars in the 20th, both provide some indication as to America’s political culture. In other words, American authorities have always hesitated to prepare for major crises and disruptions, and only responded once it was already too late. 

In my view, there are three main reasons for America’s ill-preparedness to deal with such crises, including individualism, exceptionalism and decentralisation. Individualism means that people do not rely on governments to protect them, and are not inclined to listen to government directives – they become less governable than more conformist populations, such as those found in Asia, or even in northern Europe. Individualism is one of the core values of American culture, and it is part of what makes the country a magnet for immigration and investment, but when it comes to responding to a pandemic, it becomes a liability. 

Then we have American exceptionalism, the belief that the United States is unique and unaffected by the same rules (and threats) that apply to other nations. For some Americans, this has a religious dimension – Americans are the new chosen people and God will protect them. For others, it is simply an ignorance of the outside world and a sense that what happens in Asia will stay in Asia. We are a world unto ourselves.   

It should be noted that other leading democracies share this lack of alertness, and an inability to see threats even when they’ve reached home soil. Particularly what I call the “Naive Nations”, led by Canada and Sweden, and closely followed by Australia, New Zealand and several other small countries, are ill-equipped to see a crisis coming. These countries are characterised by an openness to the world, enabled by a sense of security afforded by their protected geopolitical positions. In Canada and Australia, distance and the sea separate the lucky citizens from the miserable Third World, and individualistic values mean that potential immigrants are to be judged as individuals whose humanity must be respected, rather than as members of otherwise threatening groups. In Scandinavian countries, the buffer is the rest of Europe. What these countries all have in common is a long history of experiencing no existential threats to the homeland, and an inability to recognise that individuals, while still deserving of human rights, may present a threat, especially when viewed collectively through a cultural or economic prism. 

In short, people in Western democracies tend to feel safe, and when a faraway threat is presented, they don’t tend to internalise it. It won’t reach here, they say. It’s just a bad flu, this is hysteria, they insist, once it’s arrived on home soil. And when authorities do respond, citizens insist, the government can’t tell me what to do! 

The third issue affecting America’s response is its decentralisation. While the federal government can muster incredible power and authority in times of emergency, the general modus operandi of American society is one where State and local governments act independently. This makes it much more difficult to ensure a coordinated response. Both individual citizens and various communities are less likely to work in concert to stem the spread of the virus. Of course, this system can be temporarily overturned, but it is often too late when it is, given that the federal government must have a concrete justification for taking over. 

Another manifestation of American decentralisation is its healthcare system, which is virtually non-existent as a coordinated, federal network of public-funded hospitals and clinics. American healthcare is so privatised that even collecting data can be difficult, and treating people outside of major population centres will be challenging to say the least. Then there’s the question of what will happen to all those who lack adequate health insurance. 

I’d like to clarify at this point that my purpose is not simply to disparage the Unites States. Indeed, my concern is precisely that such an important country, which more closely represents my own values than any other major power, is in such danger. Of course, Americans do still have a lot of resources at their disposal, including a high number of ventilators (approximately 125,000) and some of the best medical staff and scientists in the world. They could well find an effective vaccine and start mass-producing it within a year. However, the attitudes of the masses are likely to enable the continued spread of the virus, and the sheer numbers of infected will overwhelm even the best-prepared healthcare system.   

Meanwhile, a population that deeply distrusts government and has been taught to rely on no one but themselves to look out for them, has entered panic mode and stormed supermarkets, hoarding essential items like toilet paper and creating a shortage that never was. The social and economic impact of this crisis could be long term, and only exacerbated by the late response. 

So what does all this mean? 

At the opposite end of the cultural spectrum is China. A country with a vast population and the unsurprising source of the virus, China’s most important resource at this time is its authoritarianism and cultural emphasis on social harmony. Of course, China’s early response to the virus was even worse than that of the United States – first ignoring and then covering up the risk of the virus. However, once the regime decided to act against the virus, it did so decisively, and was unhindered by concerns about personal liberty or human rights that would make such a response untenable in a Western democracy. 

Herein lies the tragedy of the coronavirus pandemic, aside from the loss of life – countries that value freedom and democracy have been overwhelmingly disadvantaged when it comes to containing the spread of the virus. True, one cannot necessarily trust the Chinese statistics – it is not clear how many of the infected were identified, or how many deaths were correctly attributed to coronavirus, and there’s a real possibility of a second explosion of the virus in China – but the success of the Chinese crackdown is thus far convincing. 

The result is that while much of Europe has become the new epicentre of the pandemic, with America, Turkey and possibly some southern hemisphere countries likely to be next, China has for all intents and purposes extricated itself from the crisis and positioned itself as the most powerful country politically, socially and economically. China can now even offer to assist other countries in dealing with the crisis, and while the rest of the world plunges into economic recession, China’s ability to acquire overseas assets will only increase. This could well mean the start of a new Chinese hegemony in the world, with the US relegated to a second-rate power. 

As someone living in Israel at this time, I feel grateful that the society around me is better equipped, psychologically at least, to handle such a crisis, when compared to other democracies. This is because we’ve experienced wars and existential crises repeatedly throughout our recent history, and our threat perception is relatively keen, at least when it comes to war. This sense of alertness is strong both among the people and among the leadership (with natural exceptions). Indeed, Austrian Chancellor Sebastian Kurtz thanked Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu for warning Europe about the threat posed by the new coronavirus, inspiring him to act. 

Likewise, most Israelis are prepared to put up with temporary clampdowns on personal freedoms in order to preserve life, even if they complain while doing it. The measures put in place here, with relatively few deaths, would be considered draconian in any European country, for example, which only began to respond with lockdowns after thousands of confirmed infections and fast-rising death tolls.  

Still, the Israeli response has been far from perfect, hindered by a lack of proper government and a Health Minister who insisted on keeping religious institutions open while other measures were being taken to stem the spread of the virus. Synagogues and yeshivot have subsequently been identified as the source of approximately 30% of infections in Israel. Then there is the risk that certain sectors of society, who traditionally resist governmental instructions (including American-style individualists, counter-culture dissidents and some communities in the Arab and Ultraorthodox sectors), will spoil the collective effort to contain the pandemic.

However, most Israelis, including among minorities, are likely to stay home and social distance, meaning that further spread of the virus will likely be contained to hospitals and the sectors of the economy still deemed essential – though this too could be disastrous. Still, even if the virus cannot be eradicated altogether, slowing it down enough to allow the already overstretched healthcare system to cope with it could have a significant impact in terms of saving lives.

Perhaps the best response seen so far in the world has been in the Republic of Korea, which shares many aspects of its political culture with Israel (both countries have a similar history of being besieged on all sides, recognising the need to balance the desire for democratic freedom with defensive militarism, and sense that threats should not be taken likely). However, Korean culture was even better equipped to deal with the pandemic than Israel’s, because it is a far more hierarchical and conformist society. Koreans, while living in a free country, have benefited from some of the same values of harmoniousness that enables authoritarian countries like China to implement harsher measures. In general, however, this culture of collective responsibility is hard to come by in democracies, and is perhaps even in opposition to democratic political culture – it could be said that in a cultural/social sense, South Korea, while much freer than most of its neighbours, is still not as free or democratic as some of the classic Western democracies. 

My hope is that democracies will be able to find a middle ground, enabling them to “wake up” and take collective responsibility for measures such as social distancing and pooling resources, while maintaining the individualistic spark and love of liberty that has characterised them in the period between the World War II and the pandemic. Still, I believe it is already too late to prevent a great catastrophe in the world’s most important democracy. 

The White House’s infectious disease expert, Dr. Anthony Fauci, has come out warning that there may be 200,000 deaths in America. My prediction, already from several weeks ago, has been that we’re looking at a likely death toll of well into the hundreds of thousands, probably at around half a million. This I extrapolated from a combination of models predicting that, with no response at all, America would likely see over 2 million deaths, and the fact that while America is likely to eventually roll out an extensive response, it is already too late, and it’s safe to assume that millions have already been infected. Meanwhile, the continued spread of infection has yet to be curbed. 

As tragic as the deaths of hundreds of thousands of Americans may be, another tragic casualty may be the global prestige of freedom and democracy itself, and the liberal world order that rested on American diplomatic and economic hegemony. 

Between Messianism and Anarchy ‎

My response to the phenomenon that is the Zehut Party would be to launch a movement that urges caution: #Zehirut.

Zehut has undoubtedly the most interesting platform in the current race to the elections, especially when considering the emphasis on individual liberty, separation of religion and state, and an (ostensibly) clear answer to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. However, I believe that we need to be wary of any proposal for a final resolution to the conflict. The concept of encouraging Palestinian emigration from the Land of Israel through economic incentives, even if we were to agree that it’s even a moral proposition, is certainly not possible to implement. Not only is Moshe Feiglin’s plan a concoction of fantasies, but his illusory promises are likely to spark an escalation not just with the Palestinians, but with the whole Arab and Muslim world as well and will damage our existence as a democratic state that respects and protects all religions. Even the mere statement of his intent to build the third temple will harm us significantly.

For now, I shall put aside the fact that I cannot endorse an openly homophobic candidate. Although Feiglin’s stance on various issues is likely to attract votes from the young and entrepreneurial sectors of society, his top priority for these elections is the legalisation of cannabis. This in itself arouses suspicion. Any party that places such a banal and marginal issue at the forefront of its platform obscures the appropriate priorities for the political process and implies an element of dishonesty. I won’t go so far as to brand Feiglin a fraud, as a recent article in Yediot Ahronot did. However, the emphasis on the cannabis issue does suggest that this may be a somewhat sophisticated tactic to lure the stoners of Tel Aviv and entice them to support a party that doesn’t represent them in any other issue. In essence a smoke screen.

I must emphasise that I do understand the lure of Zehut. Aside from the stated goal of separation of religion and state, the main issue that raises my interest is the voucher system for schools. Indeed, there is much to fix in our education system. However, although (and I admit) I am by no means an expert, there are counter-arguments that suggest that the voucher system, while potentially offering parents greater choice, will ultimately raise the overall cost of education, unless it is accompanied by strict regulation.

Another issue is privatization, both in general and specifically in the case of the military and the related deregulation of weapons. This is a radically libertarian ideology transplanted directly from the United States and is alien to Israel. Taken together, these proposals will weaken the IDF and will enable extremists to acquire guns more easily, which will ultimately result in a state resembling Lebanon, where the almost complete anarchy in the face of an impotent government and the decimation of the army create a reality in which armed factions proliferate and dominate various parts of the country, fighting each other indefinitely. In the security sphere, “liberalisation” will result in “Lebanonisation”. We should also keep in mind that the benefits of a strong and unified military aren’t limited to security alone. The IDF gives Israel’s youth experience and responsibility and serves as a social glue of sorts that allows soldiers from all walks of life to meet and cultivate a sense of brotherhood and solidarity. This is not America, and we mustn’t forget it.

Allow me to return for a moment to the cannabis issue. It is important for me to state that the way in which the legalisation campaign has dominated the political discourse is dangerous. I’m not dismissing the notion of changing the law out of hand, but the momentum and speed of this race towards legalisation doesn’t allow for a comprehensive and responsible debate. We need to discuss the issue, to hear the “stoners” out, but we also need to understand that there are negative implications to decriminalisation. We need to state that there are indeed health and social risks, and that we shouldn’t normalise recreational drug use. Personally, I don’t believe that getting high or getting drunk (or smoking tobacco) are legitimate pastimes, but I also don’t believe I have the right to force my own views onto others. However, it is important to state that even if smoking is “permissible”, it should not be endorsed by the government, media, and industry.

We need to change the law, because the existing law is not properly enforced and creates an unjust reality for many people. But where are the voices urging caution? Who will say that maybe we are not yet ready for it? Especially when there is a campaign of disinformation exaggerating the benefits of cannabis and denying or minimising the risks. Especially when legalisation is an apparent avenue toward legitimisation.

Put aside for a moment the problem of the impossibility of accurately testing whether someone is high (as opposed to blood alcohol tests), or the fact that free smoking in the street and in coffeeshops pollutes our air, imposes a strong odour on us and signals to children that getting high is something that is acceptable for them to do. My main concern with the current campaign is the blurring of the lines between recreational and medicinal use.

My news feed is full of claims that people are about to die because they can’t access this drug, which may alleviate suffering but is unlikely to actually cure any life-threatening illness. There is a borderline conspiratorial echo-chamber reinforcing that marijuana is harmless or even healthy, and that it is only banned because of corporate interests. The reality, I believe, is quite the opposite. Companies and entrepreneurs who seek to profit from widespread use of cannabis have been actively pushing for legalisation, while much of the global media, notably Hollywood, has increasingly normalised the concept of recreational drug use. This has been accompanied by a growing market for what I call “weed paraphernalia”, which includes everything from bongs and clippers to T-shirts and hemp handbags. Some of this is clearly geared towards children.

I contend that precisely in order to protect the rights of the sick, those who can really benefit from cannabis, we need to clearly differentiate between the medicine and the disease (in my opinion, ongoing use of a drug, without an adequate medical imperative, and certainly drug addiction, are a form of mental illness that we need to treat).

I won’t tell you for whom to vote in the coming elections. I myself don’t know. But it is important that we thoroughly consider our options and understand for whom and for what we are voting. And it is important to refrain from radical experiments and to remember that even those who want change should approach it with caution, or, in Hebrew, #Zehirut.

What Ever Happened to the Lofty Left?


It is a myth that the Israeli opposition is powerless to effect change. The weakness of the “Left” is not the fault of the belligerent masses, but of the leadership increasingly growing out of touch with their disaffected constituents.

The political landscape in Israel over the last decade has been one of relative stability, at least in terms of right-wing preeminence. There is a general feeling at university campuses and in the media that the left has lost its ability to influence politics. For some, this is coupled with frustration at the sense that Netanyahu has presided over a lapse in democracy. In recent years, once popular and influential movements associated with the left have begun to lose their credibility. Peace Now, an NGO that once drew crowds of hundreds of thousands is now barely a shadow of its former self, while Yitzhak Rabin’s Avuda (Labour) Party has diminished to the point that it has had to merge with other small parties to form the Zionist Union. Since Kadima lost the election in 2009, three successive governments have been led by Benjamin Netanyahu of the centre-right Likud Party, and he may well lead the next government, too.

The first major blow to the left-wing hegemony in the Israeli government came with the unexpected victory of Menachem Begin’s Likud Party in the 1977 elections, but the roots of this tectonic shift in Israeli politics predated the elections. These include the growing resentment of non-Ashkenazi youth to their treatment by the state, and the Labour government’s abysmal handling of the 1973 Yom Kippur War. Then Prime Minister Golda Meir not only failed to prepare the country for the war but insisted that the army delay its response. This may have been a cynical ploy to garner sympathy for the West (as Meir herself suggested, citing the American warning to Israel not to strike first), or it may have simply been a matter of paralysis in the wake of an unexpected shock. To be fair, indecisiveness is not a vice exclusive to the left.

As for the attitude of Sephardi and Mizrahi youth towards the government, growing disaffection was made evident with the emergence of the Israeli Black Panthers, a copycat movement (pardon the pun) inspired by the success of the African American group of the same name. Golda Meir’s inability to understand their concerns was perhaps best exemplified by her famous comment, “they are not nice!” More recently in the US, the Democratic establishment’s perceived lack of interest in the concerns of African Americans led to their low voter turnout and contributed to Trump’s election victory. The same goes for many Israelis of Sephardi or Mizrahi background, who see the centre-left elite as an Ashkenazi club, indifferent to the challenges facing the periphery. Although it is becoming increasingly difficult to divide the Jewish Israeli population along clear ethnic lines, people who don’t live in the centre or whose parents or grandparents came from Arab lands tend to have more traditionalist views, on average, than do the economic and cultural elites.

However, I believe the main reason for the left’s failure in the Israel of the 21st century has little to do with demographics. After all, ruling left-wing coalitions have always included conservative and religious elements. The weakness of the left is a result partly of its own division and lack of a charismatic leadership, but it is primarily a result of an outdated policy and ivory-tower rhetoric.

Tracing Israel’s historical trajectory, there have been several turning points that contributed to the slow decline of the left. As mentioned, changing attitudes following the disastrous Yom Kippur war and the tension between the Ashkenazi Histadrut elite have contributed to the country’s rightward shift. However, the pivotal chapter in this story has more to do with the Oslo Accords and the subsequent Second Intifada.

In the 1990s, the left made a historical mistake, which even then Prime Minister Rabin was reluctant to make. Pushed by the likes of Shimon Peres and Yossi Beilin, and encouraged by US President Bill Clinton, Rabin succumbed to the pressures of the so-called peace process. The downfall of the left was not determined so much by its willingness to compromise for the sake of peace, but by the fact that the left-wing establishment, especially after Rabin, centred its entire platform on peace. Shimon Peres introduced the two-state solution as a potential panacea for Israel’s troubles, and knowingly took a gamble.

Later, Labour Prime Minister Ehud Barak presented PLO chairman Yasser Arafat with a comprehensive peace proposal. Not only did Arafat refuse to respond to the overtures, which most Israeli’s considered to be generous, but he proceeded to launch a wave of terrorism, apparently in response to the prospect of imminent peace. This is not the place to discuss the reasons for the Palestinian rejection or for the advent of the intifada. My focus here is on the response of the left-wing parties, as well as portions of the media and academia, to the failure of the peace process.

I once considered that the Second Intifada spelled the end for the Zionist left. Put simply, the left had taken risks to advance peace, which blew up in their faces, quite literally. But this is not the whole story. Right up until the start of the 21st century, and even after the intifada, the fate of the Israeli left had not yet been sealed. The true folly of the left was its unwillingness to face up to its own past, and its refusal to take responsibility for the deteriorating security situation. By tying its legitimacy to the success of the peace process, the Labour Party undermined itself. By failing to adapt with the times, it doomed itself.

The left should have stated, confidently and unequivocally, that Israel had tried its best, as it should have, but that history has since offered some harsh lessons. While some Labour leaders have expressed as much, the overall image that both the Zionist Union (led by Labour) and Meretz project is one of an outdated mentality, with a palpably apologetic tone. There is far more shame in denying failure than in accepting it. Barak, who admitted at the time that Arafat was responsible for the collapse of the peace process, has since resurfaced as a goldfish, insisting that Israel could have done more.

Even more regrettably, the poster-boy of the enlightened Zionist left, Avraham Burg, ended his career with an increasingly subversive narrative. Despite his position as Speaker of the Knesset and chairman of the Jewish Agency, he appeared to express sympathy for terrorists in a 2003 article in Yedioth Ahronoth. He painted Israel as an uncaring society and intimated that Israelis deserved the terrorist backlash. Ironically, he himself represented the State of Israel at the time, and certainly its political elite, far more than any ordinary citizen, although he apparently excluded himself from this description of Israel.

***

The populist rebellion against the intellectual left and its political manifestations is a phenomenon that has swept up virtually the entire Western and democratic world, with the possible exception of Germany. Less about right-wing policies or even “traditional values”, I believe this trend is an almost reflexive reaction to years of centre-left dominance and increasing complacency.

A good case in point is Trump’s election victory in America, which followed a relatively lazy and uninspired campaign by a familiar but increasingly irrelevant Hilary Clinton. I myself was almost certain that Trump would not win, though I knew that it was technically a possibility. This was the general feeling of the US “Coasts” – it was so unlikely that Trump would win, since it was a given that any decent or intelligent person would prefer the Democrats. The polls, the media, and many actual Americans I knew were equally confident of Hilary’s advantage, despite very few of them being particularly enthusiastic about her.

In much of Europe and America, the liberal left, and even the progressive left, have a real chance of rebounding, given changing demographics and the tendency of young and educated urban populations to vote left. Minorities may also help drive this revival, especially if they feel increasingly threatened or sidelined by the current rightward shift in global politics. Latin America could also face a similar situation, in line with its history of sharp switches between extremes.

In Israel, however, the situation is a little different. Demographic developments are unlikely to support a return to the left, and unless a right-wing government makes a massive tactical blunder in terms of security or the economy, the opposition is likely to remain weak. Furthermore, the centre-left must reappropriate the nationalistic zeal they originally represented, and distance itself from the far-left activists and academics who are increasingly antagonistic not only towards the Netanyahu government, but also to the state itself. Even some of the “moderate” left-wing establishment has courted post-Zionist or even anti-Zionist figures and promoted a narrative that is offensive to most Israelis. This is not helped by the self-proclaimed “liberals” of the prestige media both in Israel and overseas.

The current state of affairs is a loss for the country and for democracy. There are no serious contenders to unseat Netanyahu, save perhaps for Benny Gantz, who remains a somewhat enigmatic and untested neophyte on the political scene. There is no clearly-articulated vision to unite even a slim majority of Israel’s citizens, nor is there a cohesive alternative to the economic, diplomatic, military and religious status quo. This is a problem for voters, but it is also indirectly a problem for the right, as the prolonged stasis discourages creative thinking among the ruling parties and reduces politicians’ motivation to adapt. In the long run, this inflexibility and failure to address voters’ concerns could plunge the centre-right into a similar existential crisis, especially if the country experiences a significant economic or security setback.

Even people like myself, who sympathise with the centre-left’s emphasis on democracy, human rights, and the pursuit of peace, are put off by reflexive and antagonistic rhetoric towards anything Netanyahu says or does, good or bad. Moreover, the increasing radicalization of the global left, and its growing hostility to the state of Israel, is a major cause for concern for those who wish to protect the only liberal democracy in the region. This development has stained the very concept of a political left for many in Israel (and elsewhere).

To regain their appeal, social and diplomatic policies historically associated with the left may need to be rebranded. Most importantly, the Israeli Labour Party and its affiliates must dissociate themselves from, say, the British Labour Party in its current form, and from the constant assault against the Zionist vision. In Israel, at least, a radical deradicalization is in order if the left is to resurrect as a genuine political force.

Leftist and centrist politicians may be confident that they represent the healthier alternative, but their current lack of vision, stability, or an experienced and charismatic leader presents an unappealing option, even for those who dislike Bibi. If the new Blue and White party wins the next elections, it won’t be for its association with the “left” or the peace process. In today’s atmosphere, asking Israelis to choose between right and left is like asking a child to choose between chocolate milk and carrot juice – a few might swallow the latter for its purported health benefits, or even just out of curiosity, but most would prefer the familiar and palatable Shoko BeSakit. For the vast majority of Israelis, barring a credible alternative, the obvious choice is the way to go.

I don’t know who will ultimately attract the plurality of votes in the coming elections. What is clear is that it won’t be anyone flying the banner of the Zionist left.

How Close?

The staggering 47 parties registered for the upcoming elections on April 9th, and the petty ad-hominem campaigns devoid of substance have turned this electoral race into a farce.

Every few years, a new personality captures the headlines in a bid to shake the Israeli political system. This time, the new major player on the scene is the former IDF general Benny Gantz, who recently announced the creation of his own Hosen L’Yisrael (Israeli Resilience) party, only to merger with Yair Lapid on February 21st to form Kachol Lavan (Blue and White), a broad centrist coalition with a vague platform and a motley crew of mismatched characters. While for the first time in a decade, there appears to be a real chance to unseat Benjamin Netanyahu, he still has the upper hand, given that he is the most likely to form a large enough coalition.

While Netanyahu, colloquially known as “Bibi”, has presided over a growing economy, improved international standing, and relative stability in terms of security, his prolonged tenure as prime minister is becoming increasingly unhealthy for Israel’s democracy. Putting aside the rather weak allegations of corruption, it is not good for a democracy to have so much power concentrated in the hands of one person for so long, even if he is apparently the most competent contender.

There is also the issue of Bibi’s rhetoric belittling state institutions and playing on the divisions within Israeli society (although this is by no means his fault alone). Part of his strategy has been to encourage the smaller far-right parties to join forces to ensure they meet the electoral threshold. This could buy the Likud another couple of seats in the Knesset, belonging to Otzma Yehudit (Jewish Power), which would otherwise be lost. From Netanyahu’s perspective, he only has to gain from this move, because while some voters may be put off voting for their traditional national-religious parties, they will likely migrate either to the Likud or to the New Right, so no right-wing voices will be lost. However, the inclusion of a fringe group with a radical ideology, considered by many to represent the contemporary manifestation of Kahanism (the closest thing in Israel to fascism), even if ultimately limited in power, would stain the government and could ultimately destroy Bibi’s reputation. Not only have American Jews largely condemned the prime minister’s flirtation with extremists, but many Israeli’s including ardent rightists are disgusted by it, even if they understand the political expediency.

So what’s the alternative? Currently, the only realistic contender for prime minister has been Benny Gantz, whose strength has lain in a combination of his military credentials and his silence regarding actual policies. Gantz’s debut speech outlined a set of vague and contradictory points that represent the broad consensus of Israeli Jewish society. He expressed something along the lines of striving for peace to maintain Israel’s character as a Jewish and democratic state, but also stated that the Jordan valley should remain the security border of the State of Israel (if not the political border), and he promised he won’t support any unilateral withdrawals or uprooting of settlements beyond the Green Line. In essence, this is little different from the pragmatic Likud stance, both officially and in practice, which seeks to keep the two-state solution as an option for some point in the unforeseen future but hopes to maintain the status quo, at least in terms of security, in the meantime.

It is sad that the opposition is so weak, and that no one can come up with a way to challenge the political stagnation represented by an unchanging leadership. This is not to fault Bibi’s character or policies, but rather a statement on the opposition, which is fractured and poorly organized. It’s true that Israel’s demography leans slightly to the right, but it is centrist enough that a compelling opposition should be able to make significant inroads. Perhaps counterintuitively, I believe it was a mistake for Gantz to join forces with Lapid. If they were to run separately, one of them could potentially join a Netanyahu-led coalition and influence the government from within. Now that they have joined forces, they not only look like a pair of clowns with mismatched personalities and little confidence, but they have also created a sharper divide between a potential, broad centre-left bloc and a right-of-centre bloc.

Furthermore, there is the issue of experience. Gantz may well have been wiser to join one of the existing parties as a less prominent figure and waited a few years to gain experience in the Knesset. His track record in the private sector is poor, as he managed to bankrupt the only venture he attempted after his long military career. He also, wisely, stated that he would not resort to ad-hominem attacks, and claimed that he respected Bibi, though he thought it was time for him to step down. But then he published a scathing personal attack on the prime minister, accusing him of practicing English at luxurious cocktail parties while he, Gantz, had been risking his life in combat. This was a foolish and petty move, which cost Gantz a great deal of respectability and played right into Bibi’s hands. As every Israeli voter knows, Bibi too was involved in high stakes military operations in his youth. Meanwhile, Lapid blew his first chance to serve his constituents when he let his ego get in the way of the Knesset’s functioning. Other members of their list may be more attractive to many voters, but they will not be prime minister.

I don’t put much store in polls, as they rarely manage to accurately predict the outcome of elections, but as they are the best of any indecent measure available, I am left with little choice but to refer to them. The way it currently looks, the Gantz-Lapid alliance could well attract the plurality of votes, but this won’t be enough to form a coalition. The Likud will likely win around one quarter of the votes but will have guaranteed coalition partners in the form of HaYamin HeChadash (the New Right) and the religious parties (including Shas, United Torah Judaism, and what’s left of the Jewish Home). He could also probably rely on Moshe Feiglin’s libertarian Zehut (Identity) and other smaller parties. As Lahav Harkov has explained, what ultimately matters is not who has the biggest party, but who can form the bigger bloc.

For Kachol Lavan to successfully lead a coalition, they would probably need the support both of smaller centrist and right-wing parties like Zehut and Kulanu and of the left-wing parties and Arab parties. These parties are unlikely to agree to cooperate in the first place, and even if they do initially form a coalition, it will be a very unstable one with highly conflicting interests. The Arab parties especially could block legislation, as the coalition’s majority would likely depend on them. Certainly, Arab citizens of Israel should be able to advance their own interests through the democratic process, but the track record of Arab parties like Balad and Taal is one of emphasizing Palestinian national interests, rather than the civil interests of Israeli-Arabs. These parties are vehemently anti-Zionist and alienate the vast majority of Israeli Jews, including leftists, which only makes them less likely to achieve any real progress regarding laws and budgets affecting their constituents. Moreover, Gantz has already stated that there will be no Balad in his ruling coalition. This makes it far less likely that the centrist bloc will succeed in establishing a coalition, bar a surprise landfall sweep in their favour.

However, as much as one might want a change of leadership, if only to give someone else a chance, the main cause for concern is not the likely continuation of Bibi’s role as prime minister. The creation of Kachol Lavan has seriously weakened smaller left-wing and centrist parties, including some centre-rightists like Moshe Kahlon and Orly Levy-Abecassis. If these parties fail to reach the electoral threshold of 3.25% of the vote, they will disappear, and their constituents will have lost any voice in the Knesset.

The result of this could be a further right coalition than ever seen before, without the moderating influence of centrist parties in Bibi’s coalition. Religious dominance and financial extortion by minority parties like Shas and the UTD would become unfettered, even if the Likud itself opposes it. If the Jewish Home’s Betzalel Smotrich receives the coveted education ministry, he could continue his party’s strategy of gradually introducing more religious and nationalistic content into the mainstream secular curriculum, hoping to influence the next generation of Israeli voters. This would be the result of a deal with Netanyahu, designed to strengthen the right-wing bloc, at the expense of the interests of the secular Jewish plurality who do not wish to see the religious minority impinging on their turf. The national-religious already have their own state-sponsored school system, as is their right, but it is not the place of a niche interest group to set the agenda for everyone else.

Another factor that could turn out to be a wild card is the attorney general Mandelblitt’s impending announcement to indict Netanyahu. Although this would merely express the AG’s intent to indict, and won’t constitute an actual indictment, it could shift things one of two ways. If centrist and right-wing voters interpret the pending indictment as a witch hunt against the prime minister by the “elite”, they could double down and support the Likud more fervently. While I have seen some people express their belief that the decision could backfire and dramatically increase Bibi’s popularity as a Robin Hood figure of sorts, it appears that most Israelis do still trust the justice system. As the New Right’s Ayelet Shaked has stated, rather responsibly, she has faith in the system and will stand by the Supreme Court’s judgment.

The alternative outcome would be if voters decide they don’t want a prime minister serving under indictment or, perhaps more realistically, if President Reuven Rivlin decides to preference the opposition and asks Gantz to form a government. The Supreme Court may try to force Netanyahu to step down, but absent a final verdict, it will not have much legal authority to do so. It may have been wiser of Netanyahu to step down before this could become an issue and give some of his colleagues an opportunity to demonstrate their capabilities, and to learn on the job as he has. It is too late for that now, and the ultimate result could be that Bibi overstays his welcome, as have many good leaders in the past, and undermines his legacy with continued legal battles, political stagnation, and a deteriorating public discourse. After all, any king can become a tyrant after too many years on the throne.

Regardless of the outcome of the elections, it is unlikely that any major changes in legislation or budgeting will take place. However, the character of the government will change. We will not see a continuation of the right-wing coalition as is. There would likely be continued deadlock due to internal and international pressures which make it very difficult to change the status quo on anything from economics, to religion, to security and diplomacy, including the so-called peace process. The Netanyahu option may be better for stability, but the increasingly populist, embattled prime minister will find himself caught between legal obstacles, his own pragmatism and the demands of his extremist partners. The Gantz-Lapid option may bring a much-needed revitalization of the political system, but it might not last two years, let alone four.

Perhaps more than ever, the 2019 elections present centrist voters with an all-or-nothing dilemma. They can vote for small parties or the Likud in an attempt to maintain the tried and true option of Benjamin Netanyahu as prime minister (in the hope that they retain some moderating influence within the right-wing government), and risk losing their voice along with parties that have previously joined forces with him. Or they can take a gamble on the less experienced and not very well coordinated pair of Benny Gantz and Yair Lapid and lose all influence in the Knesset if Bibi wins. On the other hand, if the new boys win, they could easily end up locking heads with each other and with their coalition partners, but they would at least inaugurate a dynamic government and open up the competition for future elections.

Why Now? ‎

The Likud-dominated coalition has finally come undone, and it’s because of the opposition.

Today it was announced that the thirty-fourth Israeli government has fallen. While it may appear to be a failure of Bibi’s, this government has lasted longer than the previous one and has almost reached its full term, with the early elections, expected in April 2019, coming only about six months prior to the last possible date for elections. Of course, the PM’s call for early elections has hardly been a surprise – indeed, many pundits and commentators over the years have continuously posited that the coalition was about to collapse. And yet, despite the intrigues and manoeuvrings of rival MKs, Netanyahu has managed to stay the course so far, surviving even the resignation of Defence Minister Avigdor Liberman last month.

It is difficult to know exactly what goes on in the corridors of the Knesset, but Liberman’s latest move appears to be a ploy to consolidate his popularity among his more hawkish constituents. In election campaigns, he has consistently employed much stronger rhetoric than his consequent actions would have suggested, and it is unlikely that he would have gone against the military and intelligence establishment when it comes to declaring war. The relative restraint shown by Israel toward Hamas over the past year is an easy target for anyone who seeks to criticize the current government for failing to do its utmost to protect its citizens. Not that Liberman would necessarily have acted any differently given the opportunity. Rather, his resignation was a way for him to channel the frustration of Israel’s southern population onto Bibi, and to portray himself as a would-be champion of the besieged Gaza envelope. After all, there would be new elections very soon.

Then there was Education Minister Naftali Bennett, who threatened to bring down the government if he couldn’t replace Liberman as Defence Minister, only to back down almost immediately. It seems Bennett preferred stability and unity in the face of the Hezbollah threat over the petty interests of various right-wing politicians. Perhaps he also worried he might not achieve better results in the upcoming elections, and thus hoped to stave them off until he was in a better position.

Another threat to the unity of the coalition, among the usual suspects, was the Haredi faction. Not particularly invested in the right-wing bloc, the Haredi parties, namely Shas and United Torah Judaism, are rather consistent in their demands. They effectually serve their own constituents, generally reserving their efforts for the financing of yeshivot and seminaries and preventing the passage of the draft bill, which would theoretically increase pressure on Haredim to serve in the IDF by imposing financial penalties on religious institutions for failure to enlist, although it is doubtful how effective any such law would be in terms of implementation, especially given that the current bill would allow for continued exemption from the draft for most yeshiva students. And yet, the Haredi issue cannot be ignored when considering the latest call for elections. Indeed, the dispersal of the Knesset supposedly resulted from the impasse regarding the draft bill.

The Haredim have remained a thorn in the side of secular and mainstream politicians regardless of whether they are identified as “left” or “right” and have usually maintained their place within the ruling coalition. Thus they have acquired disproportionate power, relative to their constituent population, and have been able to threaten the continuation of these governments if they do not meet their demands. The notable exception was the centre-right thirty-third government, which was dissolved in 2015. Since then, any configuration of the draft law has been significantly altered in favour of the Haredi parties. Even so, the Haredim remain adamantly opposed to the bill, which in its diluted form is anyway unlikely to seriously alter the status quo. Back in July, the amended draft bill passed the first Knesset vote, despite the opposition of ultra-Orthodox MKs. Of course, even if tacitly accepting some sort of compromise, it would be politically very risky for any ultra-Orthodox politician to openly endorse a bill so deeply unpopular among the Haredi population, and which is seen as a direct attack on the Haredi way of life and role within the state.

However, in the current impasse, the Haredim have played their cards well. They haven’t overtly threatened to bring down the government but have instead opted to use their voice in the Knesset to vote against the bill. So who is ultimately responsible for tipping the balance and instigating yet another premature election? It is clearly not the Prime Minister, who is currently dealing with the myriad headaches of Hezbollah’s tunnels, Trumps announcement to withdraw from Syria, and the relentless legal proceedings regarding the corruption charges against him. It is not Bennett, who ultimately decided that it is in his interest to support Netanyahu for the sake of sustaining the right-wing bloc. Nor is it the Haredi parties, who are content in the knowledge that even if the draft bill passes the next stage, their hands would remain clean of a vote against their own. Nor, as we have seen, was Liberman’s resignation enough to undermine the slim majority held by the coalition even after the withdrawal of Israel Beytenu.

The answer, perhaps counter-intuitively, is the opposition, with Yair Lapid of Yesh Atid at the helm. Ironically, he had been at the forefront of the campaign to extend the draft to the Haredi sector. His 2013 campaign had centred on this goal, and his subsequent involvement in the thirty-third government ensured the formation of a decidedly anti-Haredi coalition. He might have helped progress the draft bill in his preferred form, but he squandered this opportunity with his perpetual head-butting with Bibi – something that led to the government’s dissolution. Lapid’s inability to compromise back when he had formed part of the ruling coalition – the reasons for which are too complex to discuss here – have meant that any draft bill advanced afterward would necessitate even further compromise from the secularists. As no one can reasonably expect the ultra-Orthodox to vote against their own interests, the burden of responsibility for advancing the bill falls on all those who have voiced support for it, including members of the opposition. Lapid, as a Member of Knesset, retains significant political power even if no longer in the ruling coalition. He can still vote for or against any bill that is presented, and he can use his position to try and negotiate a better deal, but he ultimately must compromise if he wishes to get the bill passed at all.

Lapid’s voters would expect him to vote for the bill, even if it isn’t perfect. However, Lapid is pursuing the same old line that brought down the previous government, refusing to acknowledge the realities of Haredi influence in government, and the subsequent need for compromise. Indeed, just as the bill passed in the first vote in July, with a very strong majority, the same should theoretically be expected now. But by refusing to vote in favour of the bill, Lapid has ultimately been the one to decide that the current government’s time is up. His intention to dethrone Bibi is clear, especially given his criticisms of the PM’s delay of the vote. Of course, he justifies his rejection of the bill in its current form, declaring it to be too favourable toward the ultra-Orthodox – and he may have a point, especially given his concerns that Haredi college funding comes at the expense of his own constituents, and the very real shortcomings of the bill in terms of legitimizing army exemptions for some – but it is questionable whether a better opportunity may arise. If this intransigence continues, the bill could be kicked even further down the road, until it is either abandoned completely or is diluted even further.

It appears, then, that Lapid’s is a risky gambit – and he may be hopeful that he may fare better in the next elections than he did in the last, or he may even consider joining another Netanyahu-led coalition – but by refusing to form part of the expected majority needed to pass the bill in its current form, Lapid has ultimately opted for another throw of the dice. The question is, if given the opportunity, would Lapid accept the necessary compromise next time, or will he simply continue in his tradition of rejectionism in the hope that his absolutist vision of the bill comes to pass. I doubt this is a realistic scenario for the foreseeable future. Lapid’s voters must ask themselves, therefore, if they would rather hold out for that slim chance of success, or if they would rather just get things done. The election results will reveal whether Lapid’s gambit pays off or blows up in his face.