After nearly a month of weekly protests outside the house of Yair Lapid, the new finance minister – numbering about 400 people each and organized by post-#J14 groups for public housing – a much bigger demonstration is planned for Saturday night with more than 10,000 people declaring they will attend on the Facebook event page.

The protests are erupting as Lapid promotes a new budget, which looks much like the one planned by the previous government. It was ultimately public pressure that led the government to scrap the budget and call for elections, in which Lapid got massive support on the ticket of “defender of the middle class.” Lapid supporters feel betrayed by the former TV presenter and columnist, who is about to raise taxes and cut subsidies and government spending instead of tackling the banks, massive corporations and large-scale capitalists. On Saturday they are likely to join opposition forces out on the streets.

Demonstration outside home of Lapid, Thursday night (Oren Ziv / Activestills)

The revival of larger public protests for social justice is accompanied by the same old questions that hung over #J14 in the summer of 2011. While the official event is targeting not only capital but the settlements in the West Bank, and while leftist parties are preparing to make their presence felt on the streets, some are once again calling for the protests to be “a-political” (that is: not to mention the occupation) so as to “allow a wider base of support.” Tensions might also arise between the old and somewhat centrist leadership of the movement and other leaders from the social periphery, who have been constantly active since July 2011. It remains to be seen how these differences will be played out this time around and whether the protests could be hijacked by militarism once again. Saturday night might be a serious test for all these questions, as well as for the movement’s ability to get the masses back out on the streets.

Lapid came under fire last week after he posted a Facebook status promising to help “the average Israeli,”‘ but gave as an example an imaginary woman from Hadera whose household earnings are almost double the Israeli average. In his new budget, Lapid plans major cuts in government spending. On this issue, he enjoys the support of Prime Minister Netanyahu and settlers’ leader Naftali Bennett, both of whom share his neo-conservative economic ideology.

Public housing and other social activists protesting in front of the house of new Finance Minister Yair Lapid. April 6, 2013 (photo: Yotam Ronen / Activestills)

Public housing and other social activists protesting in front of the house of new Finance Minister Yair Lapid. April 6, 2013 (photo: Oren Ziv / Activestills)

Public housing and other social activists protesting in front of the house of new Finance Minister Yair Lapid. April 6, 2013 (photo: Shiraz Grinbaum/Activestills.org)

Last year’s social paradox

During last summer’s social protests, outsiders and curious journalists repeatedly asked me how to explain that Israel has such excellent economic indicators, but so much discontent.

Not being much of an economist, but knowing something about public opinion, I looked at how people experienced their lives here – micro versus macroeconomics. Despite apparently excellent macro indicators, most individual families weren’t feeling the love unless they were very rich. I checked and confirmed the finding that Israel is one of the most unequal societies in the OECD and recalled that some happiness studies indicate that economic inequality may generate greater unhappiness despite growth.

I was also somewhat critical of last summer’s social protest. The bulk of the protesters at the start seemed to be comfortable middle and upper-middle class types, or else self-entitled youngsters from the most privileged portion of Israeli society – Ashkenazi Jews from the center of the country who had served in the army. I felt that they were fighting in the name of social justice mainly because they wanted a greater piece of the consumerist, capitalist pie. There was little indication that they were really willing to address root causes.

Since I belong unquestionably to the privileged sector, hard work has enabled me to reach relative economic comfort – as a result, I did not share in the sense of economic desperation. And because my deep-roots approach to addressing economic oppression of others was considered too radical, “politicized,” or non-strategic, I personally felt quite marginal at the protests.

However, the movement spread and evolved, touching the more marginalized and even sparking the imagination of many Arab citizens. Once the summer ended,  the protest generated new forms of social consciousness and empowerment, including spin-off groups, proto-parties, new networks, initiatives, web activists, and ideas by all sorts of people. It seemed that many regular struggling citizens were finding hope and new roads to civic engagement.

Perhaps after the explosion of emotion, I thought, those people would hunker down for hard work, and register some concrete victories. Perhaps the government would implement some of the recommendations of the Trajtenberg Committee it established as a gesture to the protesters. Even a poor leadership, I reasoned, might implement some positive measures, and I lauded Communications Minister Moshe Kahlon’s bold move to break the cellular company monopoly.

A year went by.

What changed?

By May this year, the government had taken some steps. It established a committee to break up the concentration of wealth in the private sector, and began implementing some of the Trajtenberg recommendations. I wondered if Israelis were feeling any better about wealth distribution. This isn’t Tunisia, after all, and desperate fruit vendors weren’t setting themselves on fire. I took a poll for the Jerusalem Report; but the overwhelming majority (81 percent of the Jewish population) still believed that wealth in Israel was unfairly distributed.

I gathered that most citizens were not benefiting from the changes. The Trajtenberg recommendation that the state guarantee free education from three years old became a flagship for the government, because the ministers actually agreed on its implementation. But it wasn’t actually an innovation, just an existing law that (like so many others) wasn’t previously enforced. Other parts of the report simply fell by the wayside.

The wealth-concentration committee made recommendations too, about regulating the massive holding companies that control such a large portion of Israel’s wealth. But that had little direct effect on the lives of consumers.

Meanwhile, the global financial crisis began creeping in. Last month, my accountant asked me why 2012 has so far been such a slow year for me. I said it was partly my choice to invest more time in advancing my PhD rather than working; which included low-paid, time-cruncher teaching positions. But also, I told him, my civil-society clients can’t afford the research they want; instead they fund minimalist projects for which I’ve dropped my rates. That means I’m working as hard as usual, but earning less. Other clients planned projects, but the budgets fell through. My accountant nodded and related that all of the freelancers he serves have seen similar slowdowns, for similar reasons this year.

Desperation for all

Moshe Silman, who set himself on fire in protest just a few weeks ago, and died a week later, didn’t see any change on the horizon. It’s impossible to know which part of his suffering was the direct result of systemic injustice, or a sad story of one individual with too many problems for one anonymous bureaucracy to see. But the fact is that he was poor and indebted, and the state went after him. The state treated him not as a person to be economically rehabilitated but as a criminal element; it wielded a system of punishment and abuse in which his last dollars were worth more than his life. If it had shown mercy rather than blows, if he had been treated as a man who had fallen and sought to rise again rather than as an enemy of the state, it is conceivable that he may have become productive once again. He might eventually have contributed to state coffers again, unlike large swaths of the population that refuse to do so on principle.

Here’s one modest thing that I would have liked to see come out of the social protest: a government or quasi-governmental program for the economically fallen. There are NGOs who try to help – Pa’amonim, Yedid – and maybe others. But imagine they had a partner in the state. Imagine the state decided that it’s in our interest to reinvest in the unfortunate, not kill them. The start-up nation could devote its brilliance to rehabilitating its people.

That didn’t happen. Instead, more people began self-immolating in protest at economic desperation; another one died this week.

My business slowed further (or rather, the clients keep coming, but with ever-lower budgets) and I began to cut back on optional spending, then all spending where possible.  Still, I made plans to devote myself to the final year of my doctorate, and for the first time ever, asked for financial assistance.

It turns out that my university doesn’t have enough grants this year to fund all the PhD students with the practically symbolic $1000/month stipends normally offered.

So when the government announced that it planned to transfer NIS 100 million to Ariel University Center to transform it from a college to a university, I felt a debilitating wave of anger.

The government offers solutions

As I moved into strict budgeting for my weekly food and commodities, along with numerous people I know who were as established as I thought I once was, the government dropped the bomb – a full range of austerity measures, budget cuts and tax hikes to staunch the deficit.

The Prime Minister who prides himself on the myth of Israel as the economic miracle, shattered his own myth overnight (although Mitt Romney still believes it).

The state is no longer thriving. In fact, we’re in dire financial straits. So dire, that all other possible sources of cash have been mined and there’s simply no choice left but to turn to the people: the middle class, the working class, the poor, the economically alienated and marginalized.

The plan is full of blunt instruments: raising income tax (except for the absolute poorest and the absolute wealthiest) and a rise in VAT, which is none other than a flat tax. To his credit, Likud MK Kahlon (who is also Welfare Minister) voted against the package.

The plan involves taxes on consumer goods that, like it or not, are largely consumed by the poor: cigarettes and beer. I hate the thought of opposing cigarette taxes. If this had come as part of a multi-pronged governmental campaign to decrease smoking rates, I’d be the first to support it. But I cannot think of one leader, including the Health Minister, who has made any sort of anti-smoking public statement lately. Oh wait, Netanyahu is the Health Minister. Indeed, welcome smoking bans were introduced for restaurants, bars and cafes a few years ago. But smoking still tends to be higher among the poor. I’m willing to bet nobody’s implementing those bans in the Arab sector, and I also believe that smoking is higher among Arabs. After all, someone must pay to balance the budget.

So did the government really turn over all stones before turning to the weakest to bail out its debt?

Last weekend, the country’s economists, financial reporters, editors and columnists, lined up to tell us that this was not the case.

Economic commentator Nehemiah Shtrasler wrote in Haaretz that the Prime Minister himself ruined the economic miracle by doling out money without cutting, for example, the defense budget. It’s not just kumbaya-lefties saying that – Trajtenberg recommended it as a source for financing the provisions in his report. Instead, the defense budget burst its banks, so to speak, every year under Netanyahu (Yossi Gurvitz writes on this,  in Hebrew). At the last minute, a “surprise” defense cut was added to the package. But then, just a few days later, it seems that the Prime Minister canceled that cut after all.

An editor at Haaretz’s financial paper The Marker noted in a television interview that the government could have taxed luxury items, or the bonuses of the country’s top executives. Shtrasler also observed that the modest two percent tax on the rich isn’t expected to contribute much, and he viewed it mainly as a symbol of their participation.

And where was the money doled out? Well, the government continues to provide funding for ultra-orthodox yeshivot – a double economic whammy of direct funding, and the cultivation of a community that does not work or pay income taxes, but lives off national insurance.

Last year the government spent NIS 1.6 billion on the settlements – and Finance Minister Steinitz proudly told the religious publication Makor Rishon that this was an increase. The Prime Minister called that funding “negligible.”

In January, the financial paper “Calcalist” reported that the Finance Minister oversaw a raise in the salaries of municipal rabbis (in a closed-door, secret-protocol meeting that required no Knesset approval). It wasn’t a 10 or 20 percent raise. A rabbi who was earning NIS 18,900/month, more than double the average full-time salary, now earns over NIS 29,000 – a 54 percent raise. Rabbis who were earning NIS 7,500 saw a 143 percent raise. The total budget invested in state-funded religious services (all ultra-orthodox) in 2011 was NIS 620 million. Ironically, Calcalist reports (Hebrew) that even the Haredi sector largely uses its own private religious services. In American terms, this would be called “pork.”

Where else could the government have raised the money? One of the leaders of the social protest, Alon-Lee Green, posted a neat chart listing a range of alternative revenue sources that would have yielded a similar total to the needed funds. They include raising corporate tax rate incrementally from 25 to 31 percent as it once was, raising capital gains taxes, expanding taxes on the wealthiest – all items I’ve heard endorsed by reputable economists here.

Disclaimer: I am not an economist, I don’t believe in magic solutions, and I do approve of balanced budgets. But what are the country’s priorities?

Building the state, or mourning its destruction?

In the Jewish state, isn’t education a universal value that binds us far more than any one interpretation of religion? Isn’t there any funding for higher education that does not involve military or terror studies, or ultra-orthodox males? Do I really have to watch news items about crumbling concrete and exposed electrical sockets in public elementary schools, where sharp corroded iron beams stick out and water fountains don’t work? Surely if there is money to fund yeshivot, there is money to repair the nauseating bathroom facilities of the school in Sde Yaakov – which reminded me of the outhouses at a school I visited in rural Romania a decade ago.  If we are investing upwards of one billion NIS in the West Bank, does it have to be for a system of separation and discrimination?

Did the Prime Minister really have to announce the package the day before the weekend of Tisha b’Av, holiday of mourning? I can’t help but think that the timing was planned to head off the angriest immediate reactions. Or did the government simply hope to get two for the price of one with the holiday, thinking that people would mourn their economic woes together with the destruction of the Temple – and vent all the anger before the next elections?

And as the social protest gathers this evening, I wonder: did it work? Will the anger dissipate in a sea of perpetual despair? Will the public continue to view the revived protest as “politicized,” a phantom accusation of a failed government against the discontent of its subjects, as it laughs in their faces? Will people continue to be hypnotized by the Prime Minister’s chants of “Iran,” “existential threat,” and “we had no choice”? Can’t we do better?

Article has been updated, 4 August.

Israeli soldiers in Jerusalem's Old City. Does a heavily militarized society need a larger army? (photo: Erazo Fischer/ CC BY-SA 2.0)

The deadline is closing in on Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s government to cross one of the most dangerous minefields in Israeli politics – that of national draft reform. In February, the High Court struck down the current arrangement – known as the Tal Law – exempting most of the ultra-Orthodox population from service. If the government does not come up with an alternative by the end of the month, the IDF could issue draft letters to the entire Israeli population (of draft age), including the ultra-Orthodox and Palestinian citizens, who are presently exempt from the draft.

It was Israel’s first prime minister, David Ben-Gurion, who decided to accede to the request of Rabbi Avraham Yeshayahu Karelitz (the “Hason Ish”), and allow a quota of yeshiva students to be exempt from military service. The numbers of ultra-Orthodox Jews who benefited from this arrangement were fairly small until the 1970s, when the religious parties formed a union with the Israeli right. As part of his coalition agreements, Prime Minister Menachem Begin gave the national religious a free hand in the West Bank, and the Orthodox had the quota on the number of non-serving students removed. The government also began giving a monthly stipend to every student who didn’t serve, which would be canceled if it emerged that he was also working for a living. The result was the emergence of an entire society which not only avoiding draft, but also removed from the Israeli workforce.

In the last three decades, populist politicians from the Zionist left believed that in addressing the draft issue, they had found the right’s vulnerable spot. More often than not, they were right: the secular middle class simply couldn’t bear the idea that tens of thousands were not only avoiding service, but actually getting paid to do so. The demand for a universal draft was part of the campaign that brought Ehud Barak into power in 1999, and it was in his time that the Tal Law, an unsuccessful attempt to lure the Orthodox into service, was passed.

The current demand for draft reform was driven to some extent by the J14 movement, which was, after all, a protest of the secular middle class. Not everyone backed it: the more progressive elements of the social protest prefer to focus on criticism of capitalism and a demand for better government services; but the conservatives who took part in the movement (among them the university student association) are rallying around the draft. At least three parties – Yisrael Beiteinu, Kadima and Yesh Atid (anchorman Yair Lapid‘s new party) – are also using this issue to separate themselves from the Likud and to lure independent voters.

Netanyahu is in a tough spot here: he fears that breaking away from the Orthodox will be very costly following the next election, when he tries to establish a new government. At the same time, he is aware that even his own voters are unhappy with the current arrangement. But the latest reports show that neither Kadima nor Avigdor Lieberman’s Yisrael Beiteinu are seriously considering leaving his government. This could still change: a large protest calling for an equitable draft, planned for this Saturday in Tel Aviv, could add to public pressure on the militant secular parties.

Here is Yair Lapid calling his supporters to take part in Saturday night’s rally, stating that Netanyahu “has betrayed most of the public in Israel, choosing instead the ultra Orthodox”.

It is tempting to see this issue as part of the demand for a reform in Israeli society and its political system, and the Israeli media does frame the current political crisis in this way. Yet considering the place the IDF has in Israeli society, there is no doubt that the draft reform campaign is not only using the militaristic nature of society here against the government, but actually strengthening it. The army is already the largest and strongest institution in Israel. It affects almost all aspects of life in this country, from education to the high-tech industry. While it does have some positive influence, mainly by serving as a tool for social mobility for Jews of lower socio-economics backgrounds, the army also strengthens nationalistic sentiment, anti-democratic trends and chauvinism. A thriving civil society must include more restrictions on the army, not demands to enlarge it. If those in favor of an equal draft were truly interested in the social integration of the ultra-Orthodox, they should pursue it through the workforce and the education system, not basic training.

The call for mandatory national service as an alternative to military service for Palestinian citizens – which is now an integral part of draft reform proposals – is further evidence of the dangers inherent in the current debate. The issue of rights and duties of the Palestinian population cannot be separated from institutional discrimination against Arabs, and from the Jewish nature of the state.

> Read also on +972: Palestinian citizens cannot be expected to serve Jewish state / By Fady Khoury 

The army is often referred to as Israel’s melting pot, and service is believed to turn those serving into full Israelis. Yet as the case of the few non-Jews who serve proves, Palestinians can never be full Israelis because they will not become Jews, and Israel ultimately sees itself as a country for Jews. Even so, some Palestinian leaders agree to national service, but they demand to be part of the decision on the nature of this service. So far, the government has ignored them.

As always, it’s racist Avigdor Lieberman who has led the charge against the Palestinians. A couple of weeks ago, his party quit a government-appointed committee on the draft, demanding that the state apply mandatory service to Palestinians immediately, with a  mechanism to penalize those avoiding it. Netanyahu is not far behind: when he rejected the conclusions of this very same committee, he cited the low national service quotas for the Palestinian citizens as a reason, and promised to bring before the Knesset a law that would demand more from the Arab population. As much as challenges to Netanyahu’s government are welcomed, the current crisis can only be understood as part of a general conservative trend.

It is therefore encouraging to see that the more progressive of the J14 leaders, among them Daphni Leef, decided not to take part in Saturday’s rally, and are calling the public to take part in “a civil march” they will hold instead. The solution to the draft problem should be the opposite than the one the Knesset is debating these days – a gradual move to end the mandatory draft and to limit the influence of the IDF on Israeli society.

Orthodox Jews should be allowed and encouraged to work. As for the Palestinian population, it could be made to feel at home and take part in all aspects of society only within the framework of “a state for all its citizens.” We are still far away from that.

By Timna Axel

One of the most remarkable aspects of the social protests that began on Rothschild Boulevard and swept through Israel last summer was that they drew Israelis on both the right and the left side of the security divide, a rarity in a country where one’s politics are defined by his or her position on the conflict. It didn’t happen by accident; the leaders of J14 faced intense pressure to avoid vocabulary related to the occupation, fearing that they would be branded as a leftist movement. But as activists prepare for a second round of protests this summer, some are demanding that the Palestinian conflict be re-introduced to the debate over the economy.

In a report released this week, “The Cost of the Occupation,” Dr. Shlomo Swirski of the Adva Center think tank spells out the countless ways in which the occupation has damaged the Israeli economy, drawing a direct relationship between massive national spending on security and the increasingly unaffordable costs of rent and daycare. In fact, the report shows that unless there is a political solution to the conflict, Israel will continue to be plagued with increasing income inequality and education gaps more fitting for a third world country

“Most Israelis define the conflict in terms of an ongoing war,” Swirski told me. “In other words, we aren’t talking about occupation, we are talking about self-defense. So people don’t even think in terms of cost, because they think: To hell with it – I’ll pay whatever it takes! Israelis find it very difficult to make the connection between occupation and their own individual or family well-being.”

So how much has the occupation actually cost? The report points out that it’s impossible to say for sure, because most of the military allocations in the defense budget are kept secret, including the cost of command centers, the use of special forces, and the extensive deployment of reserve units. But there is one helpful figure published every year; the total supplements allocated to the Ministry of Defense specifically for military activity in the Palestinian territories. From the end of the first Intifadah in 1989 until 2010, this figure totaled approximately NIS 48 billion [USD $12.4 billion].

Yet even this number demonstrates only a fraction of the true cost of Israel’s occupation. The report details how time and again, economic slumps triggered by outside events are prolonged by the conflict (for example, the 2000 hi-tech crash was extended by the Second Intifadah, and the 2008 global crisis was reinforced by Operation Cast Lead). Potential growth has been extraordinarily stunted. Professor Zvi Eckstein, former Bank of Israel Deputy Governor, is quoted estimating a loss of 0.25 to 0.75 additional percentage points of economic growth a year. Israeli tourism figures are lower than almost every other country in the region, including Egypt and Tunisia during the Arab Spring, and Israeli international standing has cost dearly in the form of relatively low credit ratings (forcing Israel to depend on the US for loan guarantees during the Second Intifada; also during the second Lebanon war, Israel actually purposely avoided declaring a state of emergency, for fear that this could have further risked its credit).

And then there is the slashing of social expenditures in the budget, which during the second Intifadah totaled NIS 65 billion, while the defense budget increased by NIS 15 billion. Cuts to child allowances and unemployment pay have caused a consistent rise in the poverty rate, and government income transfers designed to combat it make an even smaller dent in poverty now than they did in the 1980s. The report quotes economist Momi Dahan, who writes that “an in-depth analysis of the factors causing Israel to have more poor than any other developed country cannot overlook the fact that Israel spends seven percent of its GDP on defense, compared with 1.5 percent on average in the other developed countries.”

In response to the social protests last summer, the government established the Trajtenberg Committee to investigate the problems and make recommendations. The Committee proposed taking NIS 2.5 billion from the defense budget to fund free public education for all children from the age of three. Even though the government formally adopted this recommendation, it ended up cancelling the defense cut and replacing it with a “horizontal cut” across civilian ministries mostly dealing with social affairs. In the end, the security budget was actually raised.

If the social protest movement is serious about change, it needs to talk about the occupation. On June 4 the Adva Center will be hosting a panel discussion, in Hebrew, at the ZOA House in Tel Aviv with the report’s author Dr. Shlomo Swirski, Professor Yossi Yona of Ben Gurion University – a leading member of the committee established by the social protest as an alternative to Trajtenberg, journalist Meirav Michaeli, Colonel Shaul Arieli and social protest leader Alon-Lee Green. The discussion is called “What is the Cost? The Social Protest and the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict.” Perhaps some of the ideas coming out of their talk will find their way into the second round of protests expected this summer.

Timna Axel is an Israeli-born American university student. She is interning this year with the Adva Center and with Gisha: Center for Freedom of Movement. 

]]> http://972mag.com/no-social-justice-until-israel-curbs-exhorbitant-cost-of-occupation/47237/feed/ 10 http://972mag.com/thousands-take-part-in-may-12-protests-ten-arrested/45449/ http://972mag.com/thousands-take-part-in-may-12-protests-ten-arrested/45449/#comments Sun, 13 May 2012 07:06:03 +0000 +972blog http://972mag.com/?p=45449 Rallies were part of international day of protest. The largest event took place in Tel Aviv, where speakers denounced the new unity government.

UPDATE: A video showing protesters expose and confront an undercover policeman was added to this piece.

Tel Aviv rally for social justice, May 12 2012 (photo: Activestills)

Around 5,000 protesters in Rabin Square. took part yesterday (Saturday) night in what was labeled “the first social justice demonstration of the summer.” Smaller events took place in other Israeli cities. The protest was part of the international May 12 protest movement, and a live feed from similar rallies around the world was displayed in the square.

The demonstration was organized by a network of local activists, and not by the leaders of last year’s J14 movement. It also did not feature any speeches from politicians, though many of the activists who spoke denounced the recent unity deal between Kadima and the Likud. One of the popular slogans in the rally was “the entire nation is the opposition.”

At least 10 protesters were detained by police after the rally. According to the police, protesters were trying to block central roads in Tel Aviv.

UPDATE: During the demonstration in Tel Aviv, one of the protesters exposed an undercover policeman in the crowd. After following him for several minutes, the protester was approached by another plainclothesman who threatened him with arrest. You can see the entire exchange (in Hebrew) in This video:

Here are some more images from the rally.

Protesters march in Tel Aviv, May 12 2012 (photo: Oren Ziv/Activestills)

Social justice protest in Tel Aviv (photo: Oren Ziv/Activestills)

A sign in social protest rally in Tel Aviv, May 12 2012. Hebrew text - "free papers = brain wash" refers to the freebie Israel Hayom, which is known for its support for Prime Minister Netanyahu (photo: Oren Ziv, Activestiils)

Protesters confront police in Tel Aviv, May 12 2012 (photo: Yotam Ronen/Activestills.org)

Protester arrested following May 12 rally in Tel Aviv (photo: Oren Ziv/Activestills)

The morning media conversations obsessed about what a horrible move this was, perhaps anti-democratic, a dirty trick (“nauseating” was a favored description) and, insisted one veteran Knesset television reporter, it tramples the will of the people.

I don’t trust the righteous anger on behalf of the people. The bitter accusations that this is a deal based on “personal interests” smack of bitter personal interests.

There are actually various reasons why this probably a good thing – or at least no worse than the (now counterfactual) potential results of an election.

1. The main towering advantage of postponing the elections until late 2013 is that it ensures only another year and a half of one of the worst governments Israel has ever had – a government that drove hundreds of thousands to the streets in economic desperation, pushed the Israeli-Palestinian conflict past the point of no return, and explicitly set out to mutilate Israel’s democratic process and what remained of its democratic character. If elections were held in four months, all polls bar none showed a resounding Likud victory, the same majority for the right-wing bloc, and ergo – probably a very similar government for another four years. Whatever terrible damage a super-sized coalition majority can do – it’s better to have this for 18 months, than for up to four more years.

2. The elections were designed to usurp another social protest, with the one-year anniversary coming up. I don’t know what kind of showing the public will or won’t make – but now there can be no excuse that the elections are a replacement for protest. Further, the social protesters made colorful headlines but bad politicians. After nearly a year, not a single grassroots party has emerged fully-baked for elections, unless one counts silver-spoon Yair Lapid. Truly new political formations apparently need the extra year and a half to organize.

3. With apologies to all the commentators who see themselves as valiant voices of the public, I didn’t need recent surveys to tell me that the majority (62 percent in a Channel 2 survey just last week – Hebrew) didn’t want elections. The social protesters, to my dismay, were not revolutionaries: they clung to Netanyahu for his full-on go-nowhere status quo approach on the conflict, and just needed him to move over a little to the left on social-economic issues, because in their minds, well-being and the conflict are completely unrelated. It’s hard to see how the deal is anti-democratic, with the two largest parties in the Knesset leading the country (however much I personally dislike them). Kadima’s low poll scores should not be confused with the 2009 election results.

4. Labor now has the chance to show if it’s made of anything – by reviving the phantom opposition. I admit that I’ve been skeptical of new party leader Shelly Yacimovich; while she has branded herself successfully as an active parliamentarian on social/economic themes, I think anyone who doesn’t keep the Israeli-Palestinian conflict front and center on the Israeli priorities is doing a historical disservice to the country, its people and the region. Tzipi Livni was a profound disappointment as opposition leader. Not only was she complicit in the government’s ruinous behavior by her silence, but under her leadership, the party initiated some of the worst anti-democratic legislation. For three years, Israel has had no opposition; Labor is now positioned to revive the concept.

5. Iran: Some of my colleagues think that this is a launching platform for a strike on Iran. I don’t agree – Netanyahu had all the platform he needed in Israel before this too, and if anything, Mofaz has been cautious about the Iran strike. (Although why believe anything he says anymore? He also called Netanyahu a flat-out liar and said he would never go into a coalition with him.) The point is, sadly, I don’t think the prospects are changed. Israel will have to come to its senses with or without the kumbaya coalition.

There are alas many dangers and outrages involved in this development too. I’ll bet anything the new government will continue to authorize settlement expansion, and legalize unlawful West Bank neighborhoods slated for evacuation. Further, I loathe the feeling of a male takeover: Livni out, Kadima in, Shelly snuffed out, and not to mention that the whole deal was facilitated by the prime minister’s crony Natan Eshel, who recently left office in the wake of a sexual harassment scandal.

But this government’s days are limited.

Bank Leumi, one of the country’s oldest banks, was forced to freeze a new charity program on Sunday when customers discovered that money they raised could have gone to Im Tirtzu, along with other social welfare organizations.  It probably took the enterprising folks no more than a few minutes to check the rules of the program, before they quickly mounted a largely virtual protest.  Bank Leumi’s decision to reassess the program came in a matter of days.

The campaign was called “Two million reasons” and the idea was to give away two million shekels to 60 philanthropic organizations. Political organizations were not allowed. About 140 groups were to post a short internet video about their group on the bank’s website, and consumers would “vote” – and funds would be distributed in descending order of popularity. A worthy cause.

But Im Tirtzu (literally, “If you will it” – half of Herzl’s “If you will it, it is no dream”) of course, is an exclusively political organization that has no social welfare aspect whatsoever, except for domination of the minds of Israelis and the extinction of free, independent and critical thought.

And so consumers, apparently, revived a little of the old cottage cheese spirit. In a flash, various campaigns were set up on social networking sites: “two million good reasons to leave Bank Leumi,” appeared on FB, where I also found one called “two million reasons to hate Bank Leumi,” which I avoided, since I don’t approve of hate; another FB page stated cheekily, “If you will it, they can cancel your transaction fees!”  I was particularly pleased when Haaretz reported (Hebrew, in the headline) that both right and left-wing protesters mounted the boycott (although the article gave no examples of right wingers, while it did point out the active participation of Yariv Oppenheimer from Peace Now). The bank’s regular Facebook page filled up with comments, and when I checked yesterday, the bank’s site administrators were desperately trying to provide soothing responses: “we’re listening to our customers…” and the like.

After calling, but failing, to reach my Leumi branch manager on Thursday, I found the easiest and most efficient tool to be a link sent by a friend on Facebook with a petition stating that Bank Leumi is free to do what it wants with its money, but that if a single shekel of mine goes to this fear-and-hate spewing organization, I will close my account and transfer my funds to another bank. I signed my name, wrote my bank branch number, and off it went. As of today, there are 2,918 others who signed. It’s not a huge number, but hey – now that the summer social protests over, I’m no longer embarrassed to announce that I am not in overdraft and apparently Leumi isn’t ready to let our cash go.

Not to overstate the case, but this is the first time that Israel’s newfound civic-consumer muscle has been put to use for an overtly political cause that involves standing up to protect Israeli society from its dangerous anti-democratic elements. I wish this would be a turning point.

For the record, I do not deny the right of any group to speak out. I am far more repelled by Im Tirtzu than by any typical right-wing group with whom I disagree – because its main mission is to cut off the oxygen to the Israeli mind and impose its dictatorial, supremacist vision of “Zionism” on everyone. I’m against overuse of the term fascism, but if anyone comes close, it’s them.

Still, I wouldn’t advocate outlawing or shutting down Im Tirtzu. Actually, I get much more pleasure watching the people of this country who still believe in a sane, salvageable society, taking such immediate action and winning this battle with our own hands. My pleasure is surely magnified by seeing us hold a bank by the…well, I’ll leave it at that.

The speakers were excited but brought no real surprises: the lineup was a combination of the by-now-usual suspects and lesser-known figures from other tent camps and social groups. The first speaker was Itzik Shmuli, head of the Student Union, who this week openly declared his intention to segue into a political career; the last was Daphni Leef, the 25-year old who pitched the first tent and sparked the movement, and has remained mostly about symbolism and rhetoric, rather than substance. In between were representatives of the tent camps and the movement, around the country, a figurehead of the protests following the Yom Kippur war, a young woman oncology resident who will resign this week along with many of her colleagues in protest against intolerable salaries and conditions, a fiery young leader of the Hit’orerot (Awakening) movement in Jerusalem and musical interludes (Dag Nehash easily beat out Ha’yehudim for quality).

After seven weeks of basically having one long argument, and many critical thoughts about what, where and how this movement is going, the following is a short list of my observations from the evening.

1. Itzik Shmuli, head of the Student Union used the term “the new Israelis” at least half a dozen times in his speech. Guess what name to expect for his party? Up to now, “B,” has come to represent the movement, and it too looks like a future party symbol. This is a reminder that the movement from the start involved diverse social circles, with different approaches to change. At present, my guess is that there will be two new parties to emerge from this movement, and the existing National Left movement has been very involved all along. That makes potentially three new parties in the next elections.

2. Comparing the people at the rally to the folks on Rothschild on the very first night of the protest, I noticed a markedly more articulate sense of what they’re asking for. A 64-year old woman named Miki, with four grown children, had come from the tony suburb of Ramat Hasharon to say that for her, a victory would mean “free education from at least two years old (or lower), making nanny costs tax deductible for working women, and affordable housing to be made available based on actual economic status and not the number of children [thought to favor religious communities],” and a large political social movement to replace the religious parties in government. Another 61-year old man, Haim, who lives on a moshav, hoped for change not for his children but for his grandchildren: education from age zero to after the army, accessible health care for all, and affordable housing.  Only one – a 16-year old named Yam who came with her family – expressed victory in terms of “Bibi won’t be Prime Minister anymore.”

It does seem that after the summer of calling for a revolution, J14 is not at all clear that it wants a regime change now, and might be more focused on getting current and future governments to learn the meaning of accountability – as part of the “change of culture” that is a frequent demand.

In fact, I do not think elections ought to be held now. Like in Egypt, new parties will not be prepared, will have no infrastructure or platforms. Unlike Egypt, in Israel, that means we would most likely just get a new mandate for the old regime.

3. There is simply an abyss dividing the Israeli economic discourse from the American one. The most prominent new signs, chants, and messages in this rally were: “expand the budget!” A group of adorable youth movement teenagers got on the stage with a huge model of a chocolate cake to illustrate that “we are not fighting for crumbs of the budget, we are talking about expanding the cake.” Together with the unrelenting demand to bring back the welfare state, this is an unapologetic cry for a social – if not socialist – economic approach; hopefully someone will take care to update it for the 21^st century.

4. There was almost no representation of the needs of specific sectors, other than perfunctory messages about the unity and solidarity of all different groups in all regions of the country. Arab speakers or issues were glaringly absent in this final demonstration.

5. There was particularly powerful applause for educator Amnon Rabinowitz who gave detailed demands to invest in public education, end the cultivation of private education at the expense of public schools, provide education for the youngest ages and place greater emphasis on values as part of the curriculum. Indeed, in every survey I have conducted over the last few years, education has come out as people’s top priority – higher than security, higher than the economy and higher than social gaps. Yet I am still waiting for the day when this finding determines voting behavior more than security.

Ultimately the demonstration ended on a gentle, not frantic note, which I hope will be a sign of morphing into a new phase of civic action, consumer protests, detailed policy demands, and very critical thinking that goes much deeper than a tent stake.

As for my personal goals – I’ll be happy if the conversations that started between unlikely interlocutors – religious and secular, Tel Aviv and Ofakim, Arabs and Jews, politicians and citizens – continue and people actually learn to listen. I’ll be happy if the new sense of empathy for those outside our immediate circles remains; I’ll be happy if it extends beyond the first concentric circle and keeps going – even beyond our borders.

In a country where no one listens, with a government system designed for maximum opacity, it was unprecedented to see Israeli citizens invited to a public hearing to tell our leaders what our national priorities ought to be in order to achieve social justice. The government-appointed committee charged with holding a dialogue with citizens in order to create policy recommendations for social and economic wrapped up the listening portion of its work today in fitting fashion by meeting with representatives of the J14 protest movement.

Those who did not trust the government-commissioned process headed by Prof. Manuel Trachtenberg and his committee of experts in Jerusalem, had the choice of attending instead an alternative hearing at Tel Aviv University sponsored by Tel Aviv University’s Harold Hartog School of Government and Policy and Shatil, headed by an alternative committee of experts chaired by Prof. Yossi Yonah. Statements or position papers delivered to the Trachtenberg forum were uploaded, inviting further comment, and additional hearings in other parts of the country and on the web are planned for the alternative process.

Public participation in policy discussions in Israel is extremely rare. While most of the 300,000 citizens who took to the streets for demonstrations in August did not take part in any hearing, well over a thousand separate policy statements were received by the Trachtenberg Committee. It’s an unwieldy process, but potentially a very democratic one.

Israelis have no direct political representation on the national level. Those who can afford it might hire a lobbyist, or if they are desperate enough, may form their own NGO. Party activists or those who belong to a narrowly focused interest group (settlers, ultra-orthodox, contractors, etc.) might have some impact on political decision-making.

But huge swathes of the Israeli population feel they have no one to talk to, that their concerns go unheard. The resulting frustration and sense of impotence leads many to disconnect from political life, but it can also lead to eruptions of public anger, something national leaders presumably would choose to avoid. Israeli governments have long been able to ignore protests on social issues, because come election time, the Jewish mainstream would undermine its influence on social and economic priorities, or on any deeper debate over societal values not having to do directly with the Occupation, by splitting its vote over settlements and the Palestinians. Perhaps we are seeing the beginning of a change.

I’m not getting misty-eyed about the dawning of a new era. The largest public protest in Israel’s history in early August was not enough to convince Knesset members to interrupt their summer recess, or even attend a special session on the protest. (They must have been exhausted from passing such a massive amount of terrible legislation in the spring.)

But if the members of the public get used to taking a longer, harder look at policy issues than can be summed up in a campaign slogan or name-calling, this could lead to a revolution in the Israeli psyche. Consider the unprecedented number of planned and spontaneous public education events taking place every day, with teach-ins at protest tents up and down the country, and competing forums at the same hour on different streets of Tel Aviv.  Community activists, NGO advocates and socially committed academics who have been howling about the need to reboot our economic, housing, environmental and education priorities, suddenly have an audience ready to talk to into the night. Added to these are the public hearing websites, webcasts of events and interviews sharing face-to-face meetings with cyberspace, and innovative attempts to make reams of budget, planning and policy data available to the public on the internet in comprehensible and digestible formats.

It is easy to be cynical. The Trachtenberg committee was not formed following a search for the very best mechanism for integrating public participation into policy making, but as an effort to defuse the mass protest. It could turn out to be a government manipulation, as some protest leaders have charged, an attempt to co-opt the protesters’ critique, a sham or a show to mollify the crowd. Even with the best intentions, public participation in policy decision-making can be messy, unnecessarily tendentious, or be conducted as an afterthought, too late to change decisions that have already been made.

But it has been a long time since anyone in Israeli national government even pretended to listen to members of the public, let alone to solicit their advice.

If the members of Trachtenberg’s committee seriously engage with the proposals they are receiving, if they make coherent recommendations that respond to the deep concerns that drove people into the streets, and if the government listens, this could be a turning point for public participation in Israel. Trachtenberg will fall short if his committee of experts follows the government’s course and fails to reflect the values underlying the protest, or if the government simply ignores their recommendations, as Netanyahu’s comments that he is not bound by the Committee’s recommendations suggests it might.

Whatever the results of the hastily conceived Trachtenberg hearings, protesters should not get discouraged, but build on all of the recent efforts to create new and effective mechanisms for public participation – mechanisms that come into policy processes early enough to have an impact, that are broad enough to reflect public sentiment, and rigorous enough to engage the experts, leaders or committee members who will make the decisions.

The beauty of this experiment in public education and participation is that it is not linked to a particular policy decision with a specific deadline; it has a beginning, but not necessarily an end.  The 300,000 people who marched in the streets, and the thousands who have been camping out or who took the trouble to state their case, to attend a street-side panel debate or to educate themselves about housing policies or wealth concentration, should become the core of a newly engaged electorate. If our leaders don’t like it, we can throw the bums out.

We are witnessing the intersection between social media and town hall style direct democracy. Like the July 14^th protest in general, we don’t know where it will lead yet. As it continues to evolve, we should make sure that public participation and public education become new norms, the new normal, of our democratic society.

Don Futterman is the program director for Israel of the Moriah Fund, a private American foundation which promotes social and economic justice in Israel.