Dr. Eran Lerman, Director, AJC Israel/Middle East Office
One of Kadima’s political leaders—Tzahi Hanegbi, once a young Likud firebrand and now a voice of political sobriety amid the present turmoil—put things very sharply today: All at once, he said, the clouds have lifted and great clarity reigns. Avigdor Lieberman, the founder and leader of Yisrael Beiteinu (Israel, Our Home), returned from a secluded vacation in his country of origin, Moldova, and officially recommended to President Shimon Peres, in the name of his party, that Binyamin Netanyahu be charged with putting together a government, while insisting that the best government would be a broad one, including the three largest parties: Likud, Kadima, and Yisrael Beiteinu. Thus, 65 members of the Knesset would now be lined up behind Netanyahu; and the range of options has narrowed to the unlikely prospect of a “rotation” government—an option Netanyahu vehemently rejects—or a decision by Kadima to remain in the opposition, which would mean the rapid creation of a narrow right-wing government, in which Lieberman would work closely with his former boss. (He was director general of the Prime Minister’s Office during Netanyahu’s tenure, 1996-99.)
How did a man whose Hebrew is still tinged with an oleh’s (immigrant’s) accent and whose style and substance frighten many (in Israel and beyond) become the holder of the keys? And how can it be—a question that haunts those familiar with the political history of Israel and the Zionist movement—that the third largest party now, behind Kadima and Likud, in a generally fissiparous Knesset, is no longer the Labor Party, which for so many years had been the party of government and the proper heir to the political and moral authority of the founders, from David Ben-Gurion to Golda Meir. Labor, led by former prime minister, chief of staff, and military hero Ehud Barak, gained no more than 13 seats. Avigdor Lieberman’s political vehicle came in with no fewer than 15. (Interestingly, this figure seems to be the “magic number” for new forces in Israeli politics that later have disintegrated: Dash in 1977 and Shinui in 2002 each won 15 seats.)
What makes this result all the more breathtaking—and potentially troubling—is the nature of the party. To be blunt, there is still the mark of Soviet, or rather, post-Soviet politics upon Yisrael Beiteinu; the name itself is reminiscent of Viktor Chernomyrdin’s “Nash Dom Rossiya” (“Our Home, Russia”) Party. Lieberman’s style of leadership, moreover, seems to be knowingly influenced by the models that emerged in the wake of the Soviet collapse: proudly nationalist, committed to a free market, and drawing on democratic methods—yet with a heavy dose of authoritarian control. Given that one-sixth or more of the present Israeli population came from the former Soviet Union within the last generation—often without any previous experience of democratic life—it should come as no surprise that many of them find this type of politics appealing. (Similar tendencies had been at work during Israel’s early days, but Ben-Gurion’s profound familiarity with the outlook of American Jewry and his strong orientation toward the West kept them in check.)
Still, it should also be said that even a glance at the list of MKs elected on Yisrael Beiteinu’s ticket reveals that this is no longer a narrow-based, parochial “Russian” party. Lieberman has managed to gather around him this time a rather surprising crew—including an old-guard right-wing Likudnik of old Israeli stock, Uzi Landau, side by side with the beautiful daughter of David Levi, the former foreign minister, a proud Moroccan Jew who was once a key leader of Likud but then, for a while, defected to the left. (His daughter, a model by profession, was in her first political campaign, and her views are apparently those of the party.) Israel’s previous ambassador in Washington, Danny Ayalon, was placed right behind her, in the seventh slot. Lieberman’s party is also the first ever to have a disabled IDF veteran, in a wheelchair, elected as MK; and much as it may surprise some observers, one of its MKs will be a member of a non-Jewish minority, the Druze.
Moreover, the voting patterns indicate that while much of YB’s support came from Russian-speaking olim, it now has a wide base elsewhere, most significantly among the youngest voters (including many soldiers in the IDF). His popularity is particularly marked among non-voting high school students, as demonstrated time and again in simulated “elections” held in well-regarded schools. The party has “arrived,” but what does this “arrival” mean for the future of Israeli democracy?
Undoubtedly, and sadly, the most obvious reason for Lieberman’s rise—beyond a certain pining, as in many societies that come under multiple pressures, for a “strong” leader—is the populist stance he took toward Israeli Arabs: “No citizenship without loyalty” is the short, sharp slogan on the huge posters around the country, side by side with his face and his party’s voting slips (with the Hebrew l, lamed—his initial, not his party’s!—on them). It is this dangerous message that led many in Israel, and in the West (let alone the Arab world) to draw comparisons between Yisrael Beiteinu and the European far right.
This notion could become even more destructive if translated into legislation, as Lieberman demands. (Likud reacted in noncommittal terms; Kadima, while offering many other inducements, turned him down on this issue.) Indeed, it is sure to run up against the Supreme Court’s concept of judicial review, which is why Lieberman is demanding the retention of the present minister of justice, Daniel Friedman, whose campaign to reduce the powers of the Supreme Court has won him (and Ehud Olmert, who personally chose him for the job) the enmity of many. Cynics will add that Lieberman’s wish to establish indirect control over the legal system owes less to such lofty considerations, and more to his wish to see the police investigations of his finances brought to a halt.
A closer look at his party’s stand on the Arab issue reveals some nuances—which does not make the slogan itself any less abhorrent. The anger directed at Israeli Arabs, after all, is not simply an expression of dislike and disdain toward the “other,” nor can it be tagged simply as racism (given that we are, at the end of the day, of the same race). While the great majority of Israeli Arabs are loyal and productive citizens, their political and intellectual leadership has indeed taken problematic positions on Israel’s right to exist as a Jewish state, and in support of the enemy in wartime. Dismay and distrust have been stoked further by their conduct during the conflict in Gaza. The Arab parties and YB practically feed upon each other: They accuse him of being a fascist; he retorts by describing them as subversive foreign agents. The Eighteenth Knesset is bound to witness ugly confrontations, all the more so since other right-wing radicals (including a former adherent of Rabbi Meir Kahane’s creed) have also been elected.
Still, a full understanding of Lieberman’s success and its implications requires a step beyond the anti-Arab slogans (or his call to “destroy Hamas”—which the IDF has no intention of complying with, given that there is no alternative government in sight). In two important respects, he brings to the table ideas that can, in fact, be described as liberal and reformist, strange as these adjectives may sound in this context; moreover, these are goals that may well resonate with many American Jews, even as they reject his “majoritarian” attitude toward the Arab minority:
- Due to the specific concerns of many olim from the former Soviet Union—who are considered non-Jews, or married to non-Jewish spouses, from a halakhic (Jewish legal) point of view—he wishes to see a thorough liberalization of both personal status laws (allowing a form of “civil union” to be recognized as a legitimate alternative to marriage, which in Israel can only be officiated by a religious authority) as well as of the conversion process.
- In order to put an end to the obviously unworkable fragmentation of the political landscape—which serves Lieberman’s short-term quest for power, but greatly reduces the ability of any government to make use of that power when in office—YB supports a thorough reform of Israel’s constitutional structure, either through changing over to a proper presidential regime (modeled either on the U.S. or on France and Russia, where a prime minister serves at the parliament’s pleasure, but the key executive functions, such as national security, are in the hands of a directly elected president) or at least through a different electoral system, reducing the options for the smaller parties.
Both goals are bound to be fiercely resisted by the Orthodox and ultra-Orthodox parties in the coalition: Not surprisingly, Lieberman openly supports a broad coalition, with Netanyahu as prime minister, but with Tzippi Livni as his strong partner, because this would greatly reduce the leverage of Shas and United Torah Judaism. If Livni holds firm, however, and Kadima holds together (some in Likud still hope to split it and lure the right wing into the coalition), the irony will be that Lieberman will be obliged to adjust his expectations, in a partnership with the religious parties, and thus perhaps be tempted to focus on the Arab items of his agenda, with all that this might entail.
One final irony, moreover, needs to be elucidated. True, Lieberman does come across as a hard-line nationalist, but ultimately, his proposed solution—namely, a redrawing of the border so as to leave out existing Israeli Arab towns (and parts of Jerusalem)—actually recognizes the inevitability of the two-state solution and even the need to carve up the present municipal area of Jerusalem, two positions once considered “beyond the pale” for the Israeli right. Wrapped in several layers of rough patriotism comes a message about realities, demographic and political, that need to be recognized. As director general, and later as a minister with several portfolios, Lieberman was the consummate pragmatist. His real test comes now. Date: 2/20/2009
|
|