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| Volume I | 1992 | Number 3 |
Israel Shahak
Dr. Shahak, Holocaust survivor and retired professor of
chemistry at Hebrew
University in Jerusalem, is chairman of the Israeli
League for Human and Civil
Rights.
The results of the Israeli elections of June 23, 1992,
solidly established the Labor party as the mainstay of the next Israeli
government and Yitzhak Rabin as the prime minister. The international media
commentators tended at once to acclaim it as a radical change in Israeli
politics. For once, New York Times columnists and PLO spokesmen were
nearly unanimous in perceiving the election returns as proof that the
Israeli electorate had rejected extremism for peace. Yet all such musings
about the shape of Israeli relations with the Arab states and the Palestinians
are inaccurate, especially since they ignore the existence of an Israeli grand
strategy.
The strategy which Rabin employed to win Labor's victory
consisted of presenting Labor as more Likud-like than Likud itself, yet devoid
of Likud's liabilities. The implication was that Labor was going to strive
toward the aims Likud and Labor had always shared, but in a different
manner, without squandering resources on mere symbolism, like the "political
settlements" deep inside the Territories, in contrast to the "security
settlements" designed to perpetuate Israel's present borders. The
second electoral tenet of Labor -- "We are sick
and tired of corruption within Likud" -- was also
intended to present Labor as a pristine version of Likud in security and foreign
affairs.
This strategy secured Labor's electoral triumph. No
wonder Labor's "Committee for Coalition-Formation Negotiations," its membership
handpicked by Rabin, rushed to set "three fundamental conditions" to be met by
every party willing to join Rabin's government. The conditions, defined as
foundations of Israeli policy "for the coming four years," were: (1) "no to
the Palestinian State in any shape or form, (2) a speedy implementation of
an autonomy, (3) the confrontation lines [between the Israeli army and Arab
forces] to remain Israel's security borders, [with the implication that] the
Jordan Valley, the Golan Heights and the Greater Jerusalem area are
non-negotiable" (Hadashot, June 29). The phrase "for the
coming four years" was inserted to provide the pro-Palestinian state left-wing
parties with the excuse that their support for Labor, being temporary, would not
mean any deviation from their principles. For all these reasons, the victory of
Labor under Rabin should be viewed as a shift of the Israeli electorate not to
the left, but to a more pragmatic sort of politics than adopted under Shamir,
with less emphasis on mere symbols.
Therefore, it would be wrong to equate Labor with Likud. In the context of Middle East politics, where symbols command more attention than substance, the described difference in the respective attitudes of the two parties towards symbols has its major political importance. As it will be shown toward the end of this article, Rabin's Labor and the Likud -- as it was until the elections -- also differ in their domestic policies.
Let me begin with the overall returns of the recent
elections, as compared to their counterparts in the 1988 elections. It should be
borne in mind that the number of voters has increased enormously in the
intervening years, mainly because of the immigration from the former
USSR. In 1988 there were 2.9 million voters on the rolls, of whom 80 percent
actually voted. This year there were 3.4 million eligible voters, of whom 2.6
million (77.5 percent) actually voted. Over 50 percent of the
half-a-million increase is estimated to have been contributed by new
immigrants. By virtue of a new law enacted in 1991, a party must reach the
threshold of 1.5 percent of the national vote in order to get any Knesset seats.
The votes for parties which fail to reach that threshold are invalidated, with
the 120 seats in the Knesset divided proportionally among the remaining parties.
The number of disqualified votes amounted to 132,000. Consequently,
about 20,700 votes were needed this time to yield a Knesset
seat.
Due to the threshold law, the number of parties actually
represented in the Knesset has decreased from 15 to 10. It still remains
convenient to tabulate the returns in accordance with the customary Israeli
pattern of grouping them into several major categories, especially for the
purpose of making comparisons with the 1988 returns. The pattern is first to
separate the parties representing almost exclusively the Arab electorate
(to be referred to as Arab Parties, AP) from the Jewish parties, regardless of
how much Arab vote they may actually attract. (This is why the Arab vote will be
analyzed separately in this report.) Next, the Jewish parties are divided into
five subgroups: the left of Labor (referred to as "Left"), Labor, Likud, the
right of Likud (referred to as "Right"), and the religious parties. In these
elections only two Arab parties received more than 1.5 percent of the
national vote. They were Hadash, centered around the Israeli Communist
party, with 2.3 percent of the vote (3 seats) and the Arab Democratic party,
with 1.5 percent of the vote (two seats), while the Progressive List for Peace,
headed by Muhammad Miari received only 0.9 percent of the vote and was
disqualified. The Left in 1988 comprised three parties -- Shinui, Ratz and
Ma-pam -- which, while preserving their separateness, have now formed a
single electoral list under the name of Meretz. The Right in 1988 comprised
three parties, Tsomet, Moledet and HaTehiya, of which the last now received only
1.2 percent of the vote and was disqualified. Several new religious parties
(including the one headed by the notorious Rabbi Moshe Levinger) failed to reach
the threshold and will be ignored. Of the four religious parties of 1988, the
two Haredi ones -- Agudat Israel and Degel Hatorah -- have fused into the United
Torah List. The two other religious parties are Shas, the party of religious
Jews of Oriental extraction, and the National Religious party
(NRP).
When thus categorized, the recent election results
in percentages can be compared to their 1988 counterparts (see Table
I).
Table
1 | ||||||
|
|
Left |
Labor |
Likud |
Right |
Religious |
AP |
|
1992 |
9.5 |
34.6 |
24.9 |
8.6 |
13.0 |
3.8 |
|
1988 |
8.3 |
31.7 |
34.1 |
5.8 |
15.0 |
5.1 |
The figures warrant three conclusions. First, all those
who supported Shamir's government or were to the right of it (Likud, the Right
and the Religious combined) now received no more than 46.5 percent of the
vote. By comparison, Labor and all the Left and Arab parties, which jointly can
be relied upon to block the ascent of Likud to power, and for that reason are
even called the "Likud-blocking group," got 47.9 percent. (The remaining 5.6
percent represent the vote for the disqualified parties.) The
difference is minuscule indeed: in terms of Knesset seats it means that the
"Likud-blocking group" received 61 of them, their opponents 59. It can
thus be seen that the change from 1988 does not amount to much. The second
conclusion is that Likud has indeed lost heavily (9.2 percent of the national
vote, or 27 percent of its 1988 voters), but the gains of Labor and the Left
have been far from impressive. It is apparent that although some Likud vote has
indeed gone to Labor and some of it to Shas, much more has gone to Tsomet, which
has quadrupled its Knesset representation from two seats in 1988 to eight
now. According to the best Israeli commentators, much of the Likud loss could be
accounted for by abstentions, which, especially in the known Likud strongholds,
became for the former Likud supporters a way of expressing their
disappointment with their party without daring to switch their vote to any
other.
The third conclusion is that the Left did nevertheless
register some gains, even if rather modest. This is apparent not so much from
the overall increase of Meretz by 1.2 percent (compared to the standing of the
Left in 1988) as from the geographic distribution of the Meretz vote. The
pertinent data show that while in its old strongholds, the wealthier
neighborhoods of the bigger cities or the wealthier kibbutzim, the Left has even
lost some votes to Labor. But it has consistently grown all over the
country in the localities previously heavily dominated by the
Religious and the Likud, where its 1988 vote was minuscule. Meretz has also
increased its appeal for the young, as can best be seen from the returns of the
voting in the army, which will be analyzed
separately.
Overall, however, the shifts have been relatively
insignificant. The ideological attachments of the Israeli voter are quite
stable on the average. Under the Israeli political system, however, even those
shifts which did actually occur, suffice to enable Rabin to govern from a
position of strength, without the need to form any "national-unity
government" with Likud. This impact of minor vote shifts is attributable to
the fact that even the smallest parties are anxious to participate in the
government. This holds especially true for the religious parties, which depend
heavily on government funding of their educational and religious
institutions. The funds for that purpose need to be bargained for, and the
way to do so is by exacting a quid pro quo for supporting a government coalition
through their Knesset votes. Of course, the concomitant corruption is
enormous, with much of the gain landing straight in the private pockets of the
rabbis and other militants holding positions of influence in a given religious
party. This is why the Shas party joined the Rabin-led coalition once it was
seen that only Labor could form a government.
The best summary analysis of the electoral returns
has been offered by Gideon Doron, professor of political science at Tel Aviv
University, in an interview with Amiram Cohen (Al Hamishmar, June
26). During the election campaign Doron served as a scientific advisor of
Labor's public-relations team. Accordingly, he represents Labor's
point of view, but he can describe Labor's electoral tactics with some
authority. Correctly, Doron notes that in all known Likud strongholds, be
it entire towns or bigger-city neighborhoods, Likud lost and Labor gained. While
ignoring the gains of the Right, he admits that Labor gains were rather
moderate, but they sufficed for winning the elections. His statistical
documentation of this thesis is plentiful: but the most convincing single case
is that of the Hatikva neighborhood in Tel Aviv, dominated by Likud since 1977.
In 1988 Labor received no more than 7 percent of this vote. During the recent
campaign, Rabin visited Hatikva repeatedly. "He didn't conquer Hatikva, but
Labor doubled its hold there, receiving 14 percent. To see what he achieved, you
have to multiply this gain by the number of neighborhoods in which similar gains
occurred." Doron explains the strategic idea to which this success
could be attributed:
Our strategy was to attract the periphery of disillusioned Likud voters, those on the fringes of the unreachable hard core of unwavering Likud supporters. We presumed that such people would be likely to vent their feelings of disillusionment by voting Labor
or at least by abstaining. Doron defines this
"periphery" as comprising in political terms the supporters of David Levy as a
contender for power in Likud, and in socio-structural terms as the lower
middle class or the relatively better-off segment of the working class, still
scared of unemployment, either of their own or, more commonly, of
their children. Within the thus delineated social category, Labor made special
efforts to reach "the Oriental Jews, in particular of Moroccan extraction, who
were born in Israel and had more than
elementary education." However, Doron says that Labor
also tried to reach those Ashkenazi Jews who had formerly voted for Likud for
reasons of expediency, for example small businessmen who had hoped that Likud
could improve their economic standing but subsequently became disappointed.
He emphasizes that no attempts whatsoever were made to reach the hard core of
Likud voters.
Psychologically, the approach implied a focus on
people's affective identities. "Our goal," explains Doron, was "to replace the
‘Likud is us' emotion of our charges by its ‘Rabin is us' counterpart." As he
puts it, "one of our aims was to convey an image of Rabin as the true-blue
successor of Begin, with the implication that although the landlord would
change, the home would remain as it was." This strategy did entail a risk (which
ultimately didn't materialize) that left-inclined voters might switch from
Labor to Meretz. Yet it was followed nevertheless, because it was
considered preferable that "the vote remain within the
bloc."
The results of this strategy and of its impact upon the
elections can be best seen from the detailed report of the voting in diverse
West Jerusalem neighborhoods, which appeared in Kol Ha'ir (June 26). More
than any other Israeli city, West Jerusalem is comprised of Jewish
neighborhoods, with strikingly contrasting socio-cultural
characteristics, and thereby strikingly contrasting electoral preference
patterns. The all-over Jerusalem results (including about 1000 Arab votes,
mostly from the pre-1967 neighborhood of Beit Tzefafa) are shown in Table II.
The votes cast for the disqualified HaTehiya party are in this and the next
table included in the "Right" column.
Table
II: West Jerusalem | ||||||
|
|
Left |
Labor |
Likud |
Right |
Religious |
AP |
|
1992 |
10.2 |
20.9 |
25.5 |
17.4 |
28.7 |
0.1 |
|
1988 |
9.2 |
19.8 |
30.5 |
7.7 |
28.0 |
5.1 |
It can be seen that although Likud lost, the gains of
the Left and of Labor were marginal, especially when compared to the impressive
growth of the Right. Notably, over 50 percent of the Right vote in West
Jerusalem (9.1 percent as compared to 3.4 percent in 1988) was cast for the
disqualified HaTehiya party. This
contrasts very much with the weakness of HaTehiya in Tel Aviv (where it received
barely 1.0 percent of votes), and in other big cities.
The Table II figures could be usefully broken down by separate neighborhoods with different socio-cultural characteristics. I have selected four neighborhoods for the purpose. None of them is destitute. Beit Hakerem is the wealthiest of the four. Har-Nof is the poorest of them, and to a considerable extent religious. Katamonim, is an old and relatively prosperous Oriental Jewish neighborhood, while Kiryat-Hayovel is distinct for its high concentration of new immigrants.
As can be seen from this table, the electoral returns
are influenced by the level of income, but even more decisively by
religiousness. The vote in
religious neighborhoods wealthier than Har-Nof was not much different in terms
of the total for all the religious parties. In neighborhoods dominated by the
religious parties Likud's decline has been small. This was the case in a number of
neighborhoods in different cities.
One can even generalize that the more a particular locality was
religious, the smaller were Likud's losses and Labor's and the Left's
gains.
In general, the comparisons between West Jerusalem
neighborhoods prove Doron right in his assessment of Labor's electoral tactics
as a success. It is because in the
religious neighborhoods the vote shifts from one secular party to another turned
out to have been too
Table
III: West Jerusalem Neighborhoods | |||||||
|
|
|
Left |
Labor |
Likud |
Right |
Religious |
AP |
|
Beit
Hakerem |
1992 |
22.9 |
39.1 |
19.9 |
10.5 |
5.3 |
0.1 |
|
|
1988 |
19.1 |
39.0 |
22.3 |
8.2 |
6.1 |
0.4 |
|
Har-Nof |
1992 |
1.4 |
3.5 |
6.8 |
4.6 |
76.3 |
0.0 |
|
|
1988 |
1.6 |
3.0 |
8.6 |
5.6 |
79.2 |
0.1 |
|
Katamonim |
1992 |
5.8 |
19.4 |
43.0 |
1.4 |
17.0 |
0.2 |
|
|
1988 |
5.1 |
17.2 |
48.0 |
8.8 |
17.5 |
0.5 |
|
Kiryat-Hayovel |
1992 |
12.3 |
30.0 |
29.9 |
12.4 |
11.7 |
0.4 |
|
|
1988 |
10.0 |
29.1 |
36.9 |
8.7 |
11.9 |
0.6 |
tiny to warrant any pre-electoral propaganda
effort. Moreover, the losses of
Likud in wealthier neighborhoods such as Beit Hakerem were also rather tiny,
because the Likud voters there could in advance be presumed to fit the category
of "the hard core Likud voters," as Doron defined it. It could also be presumed in advance
that those tiny vote shifts away from Likud would be in favor of the Right, in
particular the Tsomet party, whose appeal increased there, also at the cost of
other parties. In Beit Hakerem
Tsomet rose from 2.5 percent in 1988 to 7.5 percent in 1992; in Kiryat-Hayovel
its growth was also considerable; in Katamonim much less so; and in Har-Nof
downright negligible (from 0.6 percent to 0.9 percent). It is because Tsomet differs from other
Right parties by its aggressive secularism.
I will now try to detect voting patterns within separate
segments of the Israeli electorate.
The largest gains of Labor as well as the largest losses
of Likud occurred in bigger cities. The gains of Labor were higher in cities
like Haifa which do not contain poor neighborhoods like the above-mentioned
Hatikva neighborhood of Tel Aviv, densely inhabited by the Jews of Oriental,
mostly Moroccan, extraction. Table IV compares the 1992 and 1988 returns in Tel
Aviv and Haifa. For the sake of comparison, a smaller, much poorer and to some
extent religious town of Or Yehuda has been inserted in the table as well.
Other medium-sized towns with average median-income levels which are not
preponderantly religious fall somewhere between the patterns of Tel Aviv
and Haifa. Since Or Yehuda is not a preponderantly religious locality, Likud's
losses were considerable there.
A locality customarily cited as the most typical secular
Jewish city in terms of approximating the distribution of the
nationwide Jewish vote, was always Bat Yam. This year an exception
occurred. Bat Yam became a city in which Likud's losses were more pronounced
than anywhere else. It is attributable to the preference of local
inhabitants for Labor's response to the anti-Arab riots which occurred
before the elections. Table V (Haaretz, June 30) records Bat
Yam's Labor and Likud vote in the last six elections. It can be seen that Labor
also won in Bat Yam before, but this year's huge drop in Likud's popularity was
the decisive factor.
Table
IV: Tel Aviv, Haifa and Or Yahuda | |||||||
|
|
|
Left |
Labor |
Likud |
Right |
Religious |
AP |
|
Tel
Aviv |
1992 |
13.7 |
38.5 |
25.9 |
9.7 |
8.0 |
0.2 |
|
|
1988 |
11.6 |
34.2 |
34.8 |
6.2 |
7.2 |
0.3 |
|
Haifa |
1992 |
11.2 |
45.2 |
20.2 |
10.5 |
6.9 |
2.7 |
|
|
1988 |
14.2 |
40.2 |
28.4 |
7.4 |
6.6 |
3.0 |
|
Or
Yehuda |
1992 |
3.1 |
23.2 |
42.8 |
6.6 |
20.9 |
0.2 |
|
|
1988 |
5.3 |
15.9 |
49.7 |
5.1 |
23.1 |
0.2 |
The Palestinian electoral returns can be identified with
a high degree of accuracy because almost all Palestinians in Israel live in
compact, segregated communities. Palestinians in what are called the "mixed
cities" are too few in number (about 5
percent) to carry statistical
weight.
Before analyzing the results, it must be noted that
Palestinian abstention has consistently been higher than Jewish. In the
whole of Israel the proportion of voters from among the eligible population
stood this year at 77.5 percent, 80 percent in 1988. For the Jews, the
respective figures were 78 percent this year and 81.5 percent in 1988. For the
Palestinians, however, they were 73 percent this year and 76 percent in 1988.
Furthermore, in the last two elections, in the localities where Palestinian
abstention was high, female Palestinian abstention was particularly high. The
reason is clear: the Islamic movement opposes female voting in principle. Flyers
bearing warnings such as "If you let your wife vote today, she will betray you
tomorrow" were widely circulated in some Palestinian
localities.
Let me proceed to reporting the actual results. Of the
three parties which without the Palestinian vote would not even exist, Hadash
received 2.3 percent of the national Israeli vote, as compared to 4.3 percent in
1988; the Arab Democratic party received 1.5
percent, up from 1.0 percent in 1988; while the Progressive List for
Peace received 0.9 percent, down from 1.5 percent in 1988, and was
disqualified accordingly. About 60 percent of the Palestinians voted for Jewish
parties.
Table V: Labor and Likud in Bat Yam, 1973 -- 1992 |
|
|
1973 |
1977 |
1981 |
1984 |
1988 |
1992 |
|
Labor |
44.0 |
26.7 |
39.2 |
38.9 |
33.8 |
41.0 |
|
Likud |
37.1 |
41.7 |
43.2 |
40.4 |
41.3 |
29.1 |
In relation to the total Palestinian vote, Hadash
received 23.1 percent (34.5 percent in 1988); the Arab Democratic party,
15.3 percent (11.0 percent); the Left, 9.8 percent (8.4 percent); Labor, 20.4
percent (16.3 percent); Likud, 8.4 percent (6.3 percent). It merits special
attention that two Jewish religious parties, the National Religious party and
Shas, received no less than 4.7 percent and 4.9 percent of the Palestinian vote
respectively. The relatively high Palestinian vote for the NRP is more or
less consistent with the pattern in years past, but the vote for Shas is a novel
phenomenon, as it marks an increase from the mere 0.6 percent in 1988.
Total Palestinian vote for the Jewish religious parties (including a few for the
United Torah List), amounts to 10.2 percent. Together with 8.4 percent of votes
cast for Likud, it means that no less than 18.8 percent of Palestinians voted
for Shamir's coalition. The Palestinian vote for Meretz, Labor, Likud, NRP and
Shas had its practical consequences, adding about 3 -- 4 Knesset seats to Labor,
1 -- 2 to Meretz and Likud each, and one seat to both the NRP and
Shas.
Not without good reason, therefore, did Labor, Meretz
and Likud place the Arabs in "safe" slots on their candidate lists. Due to this
fact, the number of Arab Knesset members has increased from six to eight,
reaching the peak in Israel's history. Of the eight, two are in Labor, one each
in Likud and Meretz, and two each in Hadash and the Arab Democratic party. In
contrast to that, NRP and Shas are too racist to accept non-Jews even as
members, let alone as Knesset candidates. It is true that the Shas-affiliated
minister of the interior, Aryeh Der'i, did improve the conditions of
Palestinians in Israel in several important respects. But the NRP, representing
the most extreme of the settlers, is relentlessly hostile toward them. The Arab
vote for the NRP, and to some extent for Likud (or in 1988 for Rabin, who then
was responsible for the most ruthless suppression of the intifada),
only shows that a considerable number of Palestinians in Israel still cling
to the modes of thinking of a feudal society. This hypothesis is supported by
the fact that the Arab vote for Likud or the Jewish religious parties tends to
be higher in small localities and among the Bedouins, lower among the
urbanites.
The vote for Hadash has considerably declined since the
1988 elections. The decline has occurred everywhere, with two notable
exceptions. These were the town of Umm El-Fahem and the large village of Qufr
Qassem, both citadels of the Islamic movement, which rules over the two
municipalites with an iron fist, enacting regulations prohibiting the
sale of alcoholic drinks and the like. Moreover, communal pressures upon
individuals are rampant in the two localities. Whoever is, for example, not seen
attending the Mosque frequently enough or whoever's daughter is rumored to be
"immodestly" dressed is at once "instructed" to mend his conduct or else. Hadash
did its very best to ignore such phenomena, and even larded its electoral
propaganda with Quranic quotations. It still could not avoid the Islamic
movement's censure, especially for its "twofold crime" of placing on the third
slot of its Knesset candidate list not only a woman but a Jewish woman at that.
The consequence was that all the opponents of the Islamic movement's despotism
spontaneously united around Hadash. In Umm EI-Fahem the 1992 vote for Hadash
rose from 3,331 in 1988 to 5,781 (i.e. by 42 percent), and in Qufr Qassem from
816 to 1,344 (i.e. by 39 percent). Some Palestinians are of the opinion
that a party not burdened by an ideology as outworn as Hadash's that
confined itself instead to defending the right of people to live as they
please, would have scored even more spectacular gains, and not only in the two
named localities.
|
Table VI: The Army Vote | ||||||
|
|
Left |
Labor |
Likud |
Right |
Religious |
AP |
|
1992 |
15.0 |
30.4 |
23.8 |
22.7 |
5.9 |
0.2 |
|
1988 |
11.0 |
29.1 |
35.1 |
15.7 |
6.4 |
0.2 |
All soldiers on active duty on election day, whether
draftees of 18 to 21 or reservists, vote in special army ballot-boxes, in
double envelopes, in the same way as prison inmates, sailors at sea and
diplomats stationed in foreign countries. Their votes are counted separately,
and the outcomes are published, although only in percentages, not in
absolute figures. However, since on an election day the army authorities
are known to grant reservists as many leaves as possible, and since numerically
the draftees exceed by far all other categories, this vote is generally
interpreted in Israel as representing the preferences of the youngest cohort of
eligible citizens. For the same reason, it is commonly called "the army
vote."
Table VI shows the distribution of this vote, compared
to the data for 1988. As can be seen, young Israelis tend to be more extreme
than their elders, both toward the Left and the Right, but more so toward the
latter. Nevertheless, Labor and the Left combined, which in 1984 amassed only
38.4 percent of the army vote, and in 1988 only 40.1 percent, this time received
the spectacular 45.4 percent. True, the army vote for the Right also rose,
but it also rose for Meretz alone, reaching 15.0 percent, exceeding by far
that party's nationwide total of 9.5 percent. Within the increase for the
Right, the bulk went to Tsomet, which for the young had a special appeal. In the
army, Tsomet received as much as 17.2 percent of votes, well above that party's
national total of 6.3 percent. The transfer-advocating Moledet party also fared
better in the army than among the general public: 3.9 percent as compared with
2.3 percent.
Along with the overall increase of the Right's electoral
appeal, two special phenomena deserve careful attention. While HaTehiya
ended up disqualified from the race, Tsomet underwent a meteoric rise. The
former phenomenon can be explained easily enough. HaTehiya has increasingly
become a single-issue party, hardly concerned with anything apart from the
settlements, in particular the religious ones. This is why it has opposed a
peace process in any shape or form. In the process, it adopted religious
symbols, while all three of its former Knesset representatives remained
secular. Moreover, the National
Religious party became no less extremist than HaTehiya,
with the advantage of militating for
an even stricter enforcement of religious laws than HaTehiya could afford,
at least zealously enough. Given these
realities, the religious extremists preferred a party as extremist as the
other, but "unsullied" by secular leadership. For the secular extremists
there was Tsomet.
The amazing triumph of Tsomet needs to be compared with
the rather unimpressive showing of the transfer-advocating Moledet. The
comparison has been best analyzed by Orit Shohat (Haaretz,
June 26). She astutely observes that the goons that Moledet customarily
sends in on such occasions as the funerals of victims of Palestinian
violence, "looked like skinheads imported on a special flight from
Germany," and therefore could not please the Israelis, who stomach spontaneous
lynchings but abhor organized violence. She is also right that Moledet's avowed
policy of deliberately creating a famine in the territories so as to make
their Palestinian residents "voluntarily emigrate," could not find favor
with an average Israeli either. Above all else, however, her comparison of
social and economic programs of Moledet and Tsomet deserves to be quoted
extensively.
Moledet has an all-out right-wing program. It
includes a call to return to the [Jewish] sources, an attitude toward the land
and its past which sounds like a sexual attachment... a proposal that all
[Jewish] youths be compulsory members of an "educational" youth movement, a
demand for teaching more Bible in the schools, and even the reduction of the
number of Knesset members to 71, only in order to equal the membership size
of [the ancient Jewish Council] the Sanhedrin. Moledet's program is also
right-wing in economic affairs. It bans the right to strike, the right of
workers to have their own voluntary organizations, and any government
intervention in economic affairs. The only thing which this program lacks
to sound as full-fledged as that of any other right-wing extremist outfit
elsewhere in the world, is the ban on abortions and homosexuality. In
contrast to this, the economic program of Tsomet has a pronounced left-wing
appeal. Its much emphasized central point is the perception of income
equalization as a valuable mechanism, contributing to the society's
cohesion. Tsomet is also an emphatically secular party. It wants to
preserve the settlements, but only for the sake of security, and it says so
explicitly. Rafael Eitan is well-aware that an overwhelming majority of his
voters are not settlers, and that they represent a segment of [Jewish]
society which got sick and tired of Likud's corruption.
The Israeli Association for Freedom in Science and Art,
which is campaigning against the Jewish religious coercion exerted by the
religious parties, published a survey before the elections of positions on this
issue adopted by the parties represented in the last Knesset. In this
survey, Tsomet's record comes out as identical with Meretz's, and much better
than Labor's, let alone Likud's. During the electoral campaign it
could be seen, both from the polls and personal observation, that a mass of
young Jews, variously estimated by the pollsters as equal in size to what was
needed to yield two to five Knesset seats, were uncertain whether to vote for
Tsomet or Meretz, but would not even contemplate voting for any other party, for
the simple reason that none of them was as committed to secularism. Some of them
were interviewed in depth by Hadashot (June 26). They said that
their attitude stemmed "from our fear of religious [Jews], which is greater than
of the Arabs." They considered Israel strong enough to be able to defend
itself against any conceivable Arab alliance, but they feared that the religious
Jews may "destroy Israel from within," leaving them with no choice but to
emigrate. Such fears are not to be dismissed lightly. Religious pressures,
as exerted relentlessly since 1977, indeed weaken Israel militarily, in
addition to weakening the attachment of young Israelis to their
country.
Although the political programs of the religious parties differ little
from one another, in terms of their respective social backgrounds, there is
much difference between the Haredi [ultra-pious] parties and the National
Religous party. The militants and supporters of the latter have deep roots in
the outer Jewish society and share the core of its values. NRP is also a party
in the Western sense: it has members and holds elections to choose its leaders.
Its electoral vote is affected by factors of the same kind as those which affect
the secular parties. In this election NRP scored moderate gains, owing, as
already mentioned, to the most hawkish program in that party's history. This
enabled the NRP to attract religious voters who formerly had voted for
HaTehiya or for other extreme but secular right-wing
parties.
The Haredi universe is of an entirely different nature.
Strictly speaking, their parties are not parties in the common meaning of
the word. They have neither membership nor internal party elections. All
the issues are decided by a rabbinical Council of Sages, different for each
Haredi party. The nominal leaders and the rank-and-file commit themselves in
advance to following these decisions with all humility. The Haredim as a rule
live in their own separate neighborhoods (referred to in Hebrew as "ghettos"),
dress and behave differently than other Jews, and educate their children in a
way totally different than the rest of society. For the purposes of electoral
analysis, some special features of the Haredi society are relevant. To
begin with, the Haredim are divided into "camps," each totally subservient to
decisions of its own rabbi, venerated by his flock as the "Holy Man." His
decisions regulate not just matters of religious observance, but also
everything else in Haredi life, down to the last detail. Accordingly, a
Haredi's vote depends exclusively on how he happens to be instructed by
"his" rabbi. Not all Haredim, however, are affiliated with a particular "camp."
Some tend to shift their political allegiance depending on a particular rabbi's
reputation for the power of his blessings, either in the sense of making their
recipients materially prosper or in the sense of protecting those
recipients from the evil eye, the demons and the ghosts which the Haredim dread.
Over and beyond that, however, a rabbi may enjoy a high reputation as a
miracle worker or an effective bearer of doom to those he curses. In the Haredi
world, both the miracles and the curses are in high demand and supposed to occur
as a matter of routine, even if they remain invisible to an infidel. After the
1988 elections the Haredi press claimed that sight was restored to many who had
been blind, that many others had been cured of terminal cancer, etc., solely as
a reward for their "correct" vote. Not to be outsmarted, the secular press then
demanded to see such miracles with their own eyes. Sad to say, however, no such
demonstrations were to be performed in public. To condude, the electoral
contest among the Haredim can be described as an interplay of two factors: an
affiliated voter's allegiance to his "camp," and an unaffiliated voter's
dependence on the shifting reputation of particular rabbis for their magic
powers.
Their reputations are fleeting, however, as dependent on
vicissitudes of fashion as the reputations of movie stars. When a rabbi becomes
famous for the effectiveness of his blessings and curses, his power to get votes
can transcend the Haredi public, influencing some traditional Likud
supporters. When his fame is on the wane, he is no longer able to influence
anybody's vote apart from his steady followers. During the 1988 elections the
reputation for effectiveness of the Lubavitcher Rebbe's magic stood at its
height. That rabbi lives in Brooklyn, New York, and refuses to visit Israel, but
he has several thousand devoted followers there and much more numerous ranks of
looser sympathizers. In 1988, he chose to support the Agudat Israel party, which
by virtue of this choice soared from two Knesset seats in 1984 to five in 1988.
Although he is an Ashkenazi and speaks only Yiddish, he then held a particular
appeal for "the Oriental Jews," succeeding in getting more of their votes than
of the Ashkenazis'. The manner in which this feat was achieved was ingeniousness
itself. On the street, folders were being distributed. On one side of each
folder a solemn pledge to vote for Agudat Israel was printed, to be signed by
the recipient of the folder. On the other side there was the Lubavitcher
Rebbe's no-less-solemn pledge promising "male children, health and
prosperity" to each and every signer of the pledge. Sacks filled with such
folders were loaded every day on flights to Brooklyn, in order to make it
possible for the holy man to touch each of them with his own hand. This was
considered a prerequisite for success, because Haredi magic is said to
operate only through bodily contact.
In 1992, however, after already fancying himself a
Messiah, the Lubavitcher Rebbe suffered a heart attack and a serious stroke,
which plunged him into a deep depression. Under such circumstances, his
reputation plummeted. The United Torah List -- which this year included the
Agudat Israel party fused with Degel Hatorah, both predominantly Ashkenazi
-- tried its hand by a feeble imitation of the 1988 feat of pledges. It
distributed folders containing a pledge by "10 very pious [but unnamed] rabbis,"
to pray every night for the signers of the pledge to vote for UTL to be blessed
with all the rewards promised in 1988. Sadly, the trick hardly worked this year.
The promises were not believed, and the vote for UTL dropped accordingly, from
the combined seven Knesset seats of the two parties in 1988 to
four.
On the other hand, the Oriental Haredi party, Shas,
benefited this year from the services of today's most highly reputed Cabbalistic
miracle worker, Rabbi Yitzhak Kaduri of Jerusalem. Shortly before the elections,
Rabbi Kaduri's reputation for exorcizing various evil spirits received a further
boost when he performed a well-publicized miracle. After some Cabbalists of
Haifa announced that angels had warned them (against the judgment of the
geologists) of an impending earthquake in Eilat "between June 15 and 18,"
Kaduri announced that he could "transfer" the earthquake to the
neighboring Jordanian town of Aqaba, with the effect of thus hurting the
Gentiles alone. He duly visited Eilat on June 14, where he performed various
magical ceremonies before the press cameras. There was no earthquake,
either in Eilat or in Aqaba, but Kaduri was nevertheless hailed in Shas milieus
as a performer of a stupendous miracle. Right before election day, June 23, Shas
took Kaduri by helicopter to hover over its electoral meetings, at which
every speaker would extol his miracles. Then Kaduri issued a pronouncement on
the very day before the election to the effect that "a vote for Shas alone is
every Jew's sacred obligation." About 95 percent of the Jews were wicked enough
to sin by ignoring their "sacred obligation." But among the 5 percent who
did vote Shas, many are estimated to have been influenced by Kaduri's fame and
by the Eilat "miracle."
The electoral impact of a reputation for miracle-working
is particulrly noticeable in smaller towns where the religious parties are
strong. In the most devoutly religious town of Netivot, inhabited almost wholly
by Jews of Moroccan extraction, the Ashkenazi-dominated Haredi parties
received 3.3 percent of the vote in 1984, 21.0 percent in 1988, and 6.1 percent
in 1992, whereas Shas (which didn't exist in 1984) rose from 6.3 percent in 1988
to 24.8 percent in 1992. But the Labor vote also rose there from 4.5
percent in 1984 to 11.0 percent in 1992. The Likud vote declined somewhat,
but only a little. It can therefore be assumed that some Netivot residents who
in 1988 voted in effect for the Lubavitcher Rebbe, in 1992 succumbed to the
charisma of Rabin. In the less religious Kiryat Mal'achi the Lubavitcher's
influence was nevertheless higher than elsewhere. Before 1988 Kiryat
Mal'achi's vote went to Likud and Labor. However its vote for the
Ashkenazi-dominated Haredi parties, which in 1984 had stood at near zero, rose
to 24.9 percent in 1988. In 1992 the Haredi vote was back at near zero, whereas
both Likud and Labor regained approximately their 1984 strength. Some change
was, however, effected by the appearance of Meretz on the scene. The Meretz
vote in Netivot can serve as an example: its total vote for the Left in 1984 was
0.0 percent; in 1988, 0.1 percent; and in 1992, 2.5 percent. One should
nevertheless not delude oneself that eleventh-century social realities in such
places can undergo rapid change. The process is bound to take
time.
If the election results are analyzed as comprehensively as possible, the
scale of Likud's ignominious defeat becomes even clearer than the mere overall
distributions would indicate, but the victory of Labor and its allies appears
then rather slimmer then at first sight. Likud did not lose because of its
foreign policies, but because of its corruption, internal quarrels and some of
its domestic policies. It needs to be borne in mind that the Jewish electorate
and perforce Jewish society in Israel remains deeply divided into two
parts. The first, comprising Labor and its allies, is colloquially known as
"Israel No. 1"; the second, comprising Likud, the Right and the religious
parties, is colloquially known as "Israel No. 2." The two "Israels" are
totally distinct from one another because only the former adheres to a more or
less modern way of thinking, while the latter is still deeply immersed in
ancient Jewish tradition. Traditional Jewish notions of the hatred of
Gentiles, (and therefore of Arabs as Gentiles), of the Land of Israel as an
exclusive Jewish property, and of the paramount importance of
Jewish-related symbols continue to create a chasm between the Likud and
Labor blocs, whereas the barriers between the "Oriental" and Ashkenazi Jews
are becoming increasingly mythical, as huge numbers of Orientals can be found in
Israel No. 1, and the comparable quantities of Ashkenazis remain in Israel No.
2. The ups and downs of the Lubavitcher Rebbe's career show this fact clearly
enough. And in these very elections, the favorite Likud leader in the eyes of
the Oriental Jewish Likud faithfuls was Benny Begin, who does not even seek any
specifically "Oriental" appeal.
True, the borderlines between the two "Israels" are not
exact. The Tsomet party has a remarkably modern outlook on domestic
affairs, while its foreign program still regurgitates the ancient myth of "Arab
nature":
All Arabs within the borders of the Land of Israel are
enemies; they all have the same aspirations and they all express it in a similar
way -- by violence. Their declared aim and policy. . . [is to] cause Israel to disappear from the map.
. . . The Arabs within the borders of the Land of Israel are
divided into four groups. . . . The Israeli Arabs. . . are enemies like all the rest. To them we say: You are
enemies like the rest, but you received citizenship. Since you do not perform
any national service [i.e. serve in the army], you will not have the right to
vote or be elected to the Knesset.
Although the adherents of the Haredi parties
usually don't serve in the army either, Tsomet does not speak of them as
everlasting enemies or propose to deny them voting rights. Yet Tsomet has
been the fastest-growing party in wealthy Jewish neighborhoods and is
regarded as a legitimate political party not just by Likud and Labor (which
now fawn over it) but by Meretz as well.
Of relevance to the nature of Jewish society and Israeli
politics is the fact that Tsomet's older militants, including their leader
Eitan, tend to come from Labor ranks, and fancy themselves as genuine followers
of Ben-Gurion, in that they alone remain faithful to lifestyles rather universal
in Jewish society in Palestine 30 -- 40 years ago. Yet the program of that party
has never been quoted in the Western media, and, to hazard a prediction, none
will dare quote it in the future either. Papers like The New York Times
or The Washington Post, steadfast in their support for Jewish
chauvinism, will instead devote much of their space to minor manifestations
of anti-Semitism.
Under such circumstances, Labor's only workable
electoral tactic was indeed the one described by Professor Doron and quoted at
the beginning of this report. To have any chance of electoral success,
Labor had to focus on Rabin's personality worship, exploiting his prestige
as an accomplished military commander. This was Labor's only chance of
attracting the voters disappointed with Likud. But since Labor's victory turned
out to be so slim, Rabin's advisers are now sure to counsel him against any
real, and not merely cosmetic, policy changes towards the Arabs (including
the Palestinians), as liable to antagonize the believers in such principles as
Tsomet proclaims, and thus risk Labor's defeat in the next
elections.
There still are real differences between Labor and
Likud, on which Rabin's policies can be assumed to capitalize. One
difference, discussed above, is in attitudes toward symbols. But of ever-greater
importance are the differences between Labor and Likud in their respective
attitudes toward the United States. For Labor it may be as easy as it has
been difficult for Likud to reach an accommodation with the Bush administration
on the basis of its proclaimed principles: to pursue the peace process on
TV and get plenty of American money as a reward. Moreover, Israeli
relations with the American "military-industrial complex" can be
predicted to improve. Rabin's intimate relations with the organized
American Jewish community can thus also improve, simply because the latter
wants good relations between the United States and Israel to continue.
Israel's real power, specifically its ability to achieve its grand strategy
objectives which happen to be supported by the American "military-industrial
complex," will accordingly be much enhanced under Labor, in comparison to
what it has been under Likud.
Labor can be expected to use much of the American money
to get the Israeli economy running. But it is likely to approach this task
in a thoroughly Reaganite manner. No wonder the Israeli stock exchange has
already greeted Rabin's victory by an unprecedented rise in stock
notations. For Likud, the economy has been a jejeune matter, of little
importance compared to settling the territories. Accordingly, political
power of the religious settlers is now likely to wane: at the very least they
will not be allowed to dictate Rabin's policies toward the United States. Yet it
can be doubted whether the settlers' influence on policies in the territories
will decrease very much. In other words, the construction of new "political
settlements" may be halted or reduced, but I doubt that any real autonomy
for Palestinians will materialize under Rabin.
Last, but for the Labor politicians not least, Israeli
businesses owned by Histadrut or otherwise connected with Labor are going
to get serious money. Plenty of jobs in government and government-owned
companies will change hands. Laborites, especially Rabin's followers, will now
wield great power and lavish perquisites. Their ability to present Israeli
policies in the best possible light will surpass anything their Likud colleagues
have ever been capable of. All in all, Israel under Rabin is going to be
much stronger than it has been under Shamir. And this implies a much wider range
of options in its policymaking.