This year, for the first time, the leaders of Israel’s political parties took part in a televised pre-election debate. While this innovation should be applauded, the content of the debate highlighted yet again why Israel’s political system exacerbates the country’s divisions rather than addressing them.
The recurring theme of the debate was the participants trying to score points by attacking their chief nemeses, rather than constructively debating policies. This can partly be explained by the very nature of democratic elections, which are primarily about marketing and not rational debate, but the main cause is the Israeli political system itself.
Israel has a unicameral legislature with 120 members (matching the 120 members of the ancient Sanhedrin), elected by proportional representation with a 3.25 percent threshold. In the previous elections, it stood at 2 percent, but was raised at the initiative of Yisrael Beytenu’s Avigdor Lieberman, who aimed to weaken the Arab parties, but looks likely to end up achieving the opposite. Such a small threshold makes it relatively easy to win seats, which is why Israel has had over 100 political parties in its short history. It also serves to promote a tribal politics which amplifies rather than reduces the tensions between Israel’s various tribes.
The debate featured Yesh Atid (There is a Future), a party mainly supported by middle-class Ashkenazim living in the greater Tel Aviv area; Bayit Yehudi (Jewish Home), a party mainly supported by the settlers and other religious nationalists; the United Arab List, a new grouping that will almost exclusively attract Arab support; Meretz, another party mainly supported by middle-class Ashkenazim, but further to the left than Yesh Atid on the Palestinian issue; Shas, a party mainly supported by Mizrachim living in the country’s periphery; Yahad (Together), a breakaway from Shas which has combined with the openly fascist Power to Israel faction in order to creep past the threshold; and Kulanu (All of Us), a new party led by ex-Likudnik Moshe Kahlon.
Three parties were absent. United Torah Judaism, who do not need to take part in debates in order to secure the votes of their exclusively Ultra-Orthodox supporters; Labour, the ruling party for the first half of Israel’s existence; and Likud, the current ruling party, led by Israeli Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu. Netanyahu has steadfastly ignored pressure to take part in a pre-election debate; Labour followed suit because they didn’t want to be bracketed together with the smaller parties. Labour have traditionally been associated with the old Ashkenazi elites who played such a key role in Israel’s establishment, including many of the kibbutzim and moshavim. Likud, meanwhile, traditionally drew their support from the urban middle-class, before securing power in 1977 by winning the support of many Mizrachim in the periphery. Labour and Likud are the only parties which have been able to transcend sectoral affiliations at all, which is why they are the only two parties who will have a chance of forming a coalition following the elections. But they are not as proficient at this as they used to be, and as a result both are languishing in the low-twenties in the opinion polls.
The other parties talk about transcending sectoral divides, but show little sign of being able to turn rhetoric into reality. Bayit Yehudi added ex-footballer Eli Ohana to their list so as to boost their credentials with Mizrachim, only for Ohana to resign two days later after the party’s rank-and-file rose up against a perceived betrayal of the party’s traditions. Ayman Odeh, leader of the United Arab List, has spoken eloquently about winning Jewish support for the new slate, but will probably have to make do with the votes of the small number of anti-Zionist Israeli-Jews. Shas have taken a seemingly Marxist turn in their electioneering, with party leader Aryeh Deri declaring that “the revolution is coming” and that Shas will represent the “invisible” poor, but each member on the Shas list is a religious man. Finally, Kulanu leader Moshe Kahlon also speaks about getting cross-sectoral support, but primarily appeals to traditional Likud voters, mainly Mizrachim, disappointed by Likud’s economic policies (although not necessarily their diplomatic ones).
Meanwhile, small parties can expect to wield disproportionate power in the next Knesset. I am no fan of Bayit Yehudi’s Naftali Bennett, but he is right to point out that Tzipi Livni’s reward for winning six seats in the last elections was extortionate (she was made Minister of Justice and given responsibility for the negotiations with the Palestinians). Small parties can similarly expect to wield disproportionate power in the next Knesset. Following yet another corruption scandal in its ranks, Yisrael Beytenu will (ironically) barely make it past the threshold, but the complexities of coalition building may yet see it rewarded with an important ministry (although probably not the defense portfolio which Lieberman is demanding for himself). Without addressing these structural problems, there is little chance that pressing policy issues like the spiraling cost of living and the ongoing conflict with the Palestinians will be adequately addressed.
I read this week that, early in its existence, Singapore provided cheap housing while ensuring that the new country’s different ethnic groups lived together, thus stifling the sectarian divide. Israel needs to do something similar with its political system. The notion that the low threshold is more democratic is false, because it fosters rather than nullifies divisions. My preference is for a 10 percent threshold. This would stop small parties from holding the bigger parties to ransom, and would encourage the parties to look beyond their natural constituencies and to begin thinking more seriously about the needs of those not like them. It would also make it less likely that Israelis would have to go to the polls yet again, quite unnecessarily, in two years time.
