An Open Letter to the Members of the 18th Knesset of the State of Israel

I sat and watched you yesterday. When you went up one by one to speak, and when you dispersed for a short break whilst the prime minister went out to discuss with the legal adviser how to eject himself from his attempt to blur the truth regarding the coalition agreement he achieved with Kadima. I watched you, a bunch of hedonists, smug, full bellied and satiated with the fats of power, and my heart sunk.

I thought about my dear father, rest in peace, who was a Zionist to his bones, from his youth and his Alia to Israel, through his service in the Jewish Brigade during the war, to his travels to the other side of the world as a Zionist messenger, where he met and married my mother who he also brought back with him, from the pot of meat to the land of thinness and the tents of the young kibbutz. I thought about my friends who died in Israel’s wars and in between them, about Danny and Shimshon, about Gadi and Khanan, about Yuval and Moti, and about dear Yoav. The tears of their insult filled my eyes.

I watched you, the members of Knesset who bothered to attend the shameful and disgraceful occasion yesterday. Quite a few of your friends did not even bother to arrive. “Not present.” said together the secretary and the speaker. Why should they arrive? You receive your salaries and your perks whether you arrive or not. I watched you closely. I counted on the fingers of one hand those members of Knesset who, regardless of their political stance or religious belief, are there because they really believe in something, and I had one or two fingers left. I looked at you, at your total disconnection from those who elected you, those who wrestle with un-responsive power, with violent crime and with the sickening inequality. You wandered around amongst the empty seats, you exchanged tasteless jokes and slapped each other’s shoulders. You used your smartphones to call on people, no less smart, sitting in posh offices and luxurious bureaus, who buy you with their money and the might of their influence, and you do as they say.

I watched the speaker of the Knesset, who so wants to be Israel’s next president, chattering himself to oblivion with his stupid jokes, I saw you, sycophants, queuing up to shake the hand of the new holder of state power – the great Shaul Mofaz – as if he was a Bar Mitzvah boy who just finished singing his portion. The over-doers and the women even added two kisses on the cheeks – one on each side, as is the custom with our cousins, the Arabs. Who are you? Where did you come from? Who instated you? Were you born to govern? Who do you report to and who do you answer to? Is this the best that the people of Israel, God’s chosen people, winners of many Noble prizes and winners of choice and no-choice wars, is capable of bringing forth? Have you got mirrors in your homes? Do you look at them from time to time?

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