I had a feeling I might make an appearance here again, especially if current events here were being covered extensively in the international press, but I never imagined it would be under these circumstances when the country is (still) under the threat of leaving democracy.
I published my last post before the November 1 elections, but it was already clear that either we were going into another election cycle or Netanyahu's camp would win, probably by a slim majority. I voted for Meretz yet again, quite reluctantly to be honest, and hoped for the best. The right's landslide victory caught me off-guard but wasn't too surprising - not just Netanyahu's Likud victory (32 seats) but also the meteoric rise of the Religious Zionist party (14 seats), not to mention the Orthodox parties' very high showing (17 together for both Shas and United Torah Judaism).
On the left, the situation was catastrophic and felt like the result of every possible mistake. After much debate, Meretz and Labour decided to run separately, which resulted in Labour's poor showing of 4 seats and Meretz's elimination from the Knesset. Mathematically, the numbers between both camps were almost equal, we just didn't play the game right, mainly due to inflated egos. After I had gone through my five stages of grief, which included a lot of crying and macaroni and cheese, I decided that maybe it was for the best. This was indeed Netanyahu's most right-wing government yet, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad? Maybe after years of election turmoil, we needed to give the stage to one side. Maybe with fewer ideological disagreements, Netanyahu's far-right government would provide some stability and quiet for the next four years, and we could finally get on with our lives, even if it wasn't the government I voted for.
All of this wishful thinking disappeared on January 4th, when Yariv Levin, the newly appointed Justice Minister, presented his extreme judicial overhaul with a calm demeanor and a chilling tone noting that this was just the 'first phase'. A short overview of the proposed plans is presented here.
It's important to mention that while for most of the left-leaning public, these judicial suggestions for reform seemed to have come out of thin air (and very conveniently while Netanyahu is standing trial), there has been discontent for quite some time on the right that Former Supreme Court President Aharon Barak's sweeping judicial changes in the 90s gave too much power to the judicial court. However, this was certainly not part of Netanyahu's campaign and from many conversations with right-leaning friends and family members, they believe that while a change is certainly needed to 'correct' the current situation, most agree that the proposed plan is too extreme and will give far too much power to the coalition. But not everyone wanted to take part in a nuanced debate. Some wanted to stand by Netanyahu no matter what, while others demanded an urgent stop of any legislation and to go back to the previous situation, which they were completely okay with. The swelling anti-protest movement rose from the latter camp.
As a secular woman, I am a minority in the current coalition. The suggested judicial overhaul means that I will no longer be able to rely on the Supreme Court to protect my rights and I will be completely dependent on the coalition majority. And yet, for a long time, I supported the protests from afar. The protests always seemed too loud and crowded for me, and I didn't think it would make such a difference if I was there or not. When there were protests on work days, I was considerate of coworkers who took the day off or took a break to join the mid-day protests at Azrieli, but I tried to work as usual. There was also a point when I thought there was room for compromise, which was being thwarted by the opposition's demand to completely halt the legislation. Surely there would be a true 'softening' of the legislation and not the minor one proposed by the coalition, right?
But last Saturday something changed. As we were heading into the final week of rulings before the Knesset break, I really had no idea what the country would look like by the end of the week. Netanyahu had made it clear in his speech on Thursday night that he would go forward with the second and third readings, making any changes irreversible, and this was enough to get me out of the house and join my mom, aunt, and sister in Kaplan. I mainly went to feel less alone, and also less hopeless, as I heard the speeches made by Yuval Noah Harari and Tzipi Livni, and sang 'Hatikva', the Israeli anthem, with the rest of the crowd, estimated to be the largest turnout since the protests began. While we were there, we received a notification that Yoav Gallant, the defense minister, had called for a pause in the legislation, citing security concerns. This was soon followed by a notification saying that Itamar Ben-Gvir called for Gallant to be fired. 'Yeah right, as if that will happen' I thought. Netanyahu might publically scold Gallant, but he would never fire him, given the delicate security situation we're in. But less than 24 hours later, he sent shockwaves throughout the country when he did fire him, leading to an eruption of spontaneous protests, with thousands of demonstrators taking over the main Ayalon highway for most of the night. By the next day, it was clear that there was a shift and something had changed. Strikes were announced and it felt like the whole country was shutting down. I went with friends to the daytime protests at Kaplan, and there was a constant gathering of demonstrators carrying Israeli flags, who all stopped by for a while with no clear end in sight. In the evening, Netanyahu gave his long-delayed speech, making sure to praise the right-wing demonstrations in support of the reform and scold the protesters against the reform, going so far as to compare us to the 'bad mother' in Solomon's tale who is willing to tear the country apart. Netanyahu announced a one-month pause in the legislation, and we were left feeling like after a forced ceasefire right in the middle of a military operation.
There's a sense that the gun is already loaded and one small flare-up is enough for the coalition to reconvene and pass the legislation, they just need a few hours and it's done. This is why the protests are continuing, though I assume they will be at a much smaller scale since there is less of a sense of urgency. To make matters more stressful, the pro-reform protestors have gained momentum (with the strong support of the coalition) and while most of the right-wing protesters are non-violent, there is a small but vocal group looking to wreak havoc and cause violence, targeted towards the anti-reform protestors. On Thursday night they chased down a journalist and it's become clear that there is no grown-up in charge to restrain any violence.
For a long time, I've had some trouble with the prominent display of the Israel flag in the weeks leading up to Independence Day. It's been custom for drivers to put a small flag on their windows and for people to put up the flag outside their homes, in addition to the flags set up by the municipalities in the streets. Something about it always made me feel uncomfortable, and it felt like an unneeded show of force. Yes, we are celebrating our rightful independence but do we really need to be so boastful about it? During the anti-Netanyahu protests, the right-wing pro-Netanyahu protestors waved the Israeli flag to show that they are true patriots, as opposed to the black flag movement, and carrying the Israeli flag was seen as a nationalistic image. But this changed completely during the anti-reform protests, in which demonstrators reclaimed the flag. I couldn't help but tear up a bit when I saw the wave of Israeli flags flying defiantly in the wind, despite everything. Carrying the flag became a way to show that this was our country too, and we have every right to fight for it because we really have no other country. This is our messed-up, dysfunctional, and complicated home, but it's ours, and on the eve of our 75th year, we're still working things out.
There is a better quality of this performance by Gali Atari and Korin Elal here, but I love this version, shot by demonstrator Ido Ivry, which really captures the feeling of being in the middle of the protest, surrounded by Israelis of all ages who just want to live in a democratic society.
I have no other country
even if my land is aflame
Just a word in Hebrew
pierces my veins and my soul -
With a painful body, with a hungry heart,
Here is my home.
I will not stay silent
because my country changed her face
I will not give up reminding her
And sing in her ears
until she will open her eyes
I have no other country
even if my land is aflame
Just a word in Hebrew
pierces my veins and my soul -
With a painful body, with a hungry heart,
Here is my home.
I won't be silent because my country
has changed her face.
I will not give up reminding her
And sing in her ears
until she will open her eyes
I have no other country
until she will renew her glorious days
Until she will open her eyes
I have no other country
even if my land is aflame
Just a word in Hebrew
pierces my veins and my soul -
With a painful body, with a hungry heart,
Here is my home.
With a painful body, with a hungry heart,
Here is my home.
Translation from Hebrewsongs.com
DEM ♥ O ♥ CRAT ♥ IA
