If you want to make a change in your city there is only one place to do it from - just ask Simon Monk, No. 2. on the National Religious Party list in Netanya.
By CARL HOFFMANSimon Monk 88 224(photo credit: Carl Hoffman)
One of life's major ironies for English-speaking immigrants to Israel is to hear themselves referred to as "Anglo-Saxons" by native "Sabra" Israelis. This odd quirk of fate is particularly amusing to Jews from the United States, where Anglo-Saxons are the country's most powerful and established ethnic group, and who historically have wanted as little to do with "upstart" immigrant Jews as possible. Whenever necessary, Anglo-Saxons quietly reminded us that it was they who founded the country, wrested it from the Indians, cleared the wilderness and built its town and cities. It was thus their prerogative, they patiently explained, to preside over universities that would not admit us; hotels, country clubs and resorts we could not get into, and professions from which we were excluded - most notably, politics. Prior to World War II, Jews could be courted by political parties as voters, but spurned as candidates for public office.
How utterly ironic it has been then, for English speakers to arrive in Israel, be labeled "Anglo-Saxon," and then be courted by political parties as voters but generally spurned as candidates for public office. The usual response by most of these newly-christened "Anglo-Saxons" has been acquiescence. With often poor Hebrew and limited cultural knowledge, the overwhelming majority of English-speaking immigrants have been more or less content to leave the often incomprehensible and sometimes Byzantine world of Israeli politics to native-born Israelis.
However, a growing number of English-speakers throughout Israel are scaling the traditional barrier. While no single individual can be described as "typical," Simon Monk provides an interesting example. Forty-four years old, Monk is a banker, the father of five children, husband of Nicole Monk - anchorwoman at Israel Independent TV News, an Internet TV station, and an immigrant to Israel from London. Four years ago, he was No. 4 on the National Religious Party's list of candidates for Netanya's city council. In the coming election, he is No. 2.
Oddly enough, Monk's aliya was almost accidental. He recalls, "My wife was a Bnei Akiva girl, I was raised in a traditional home. The Zionist focus came from my marriage. My wife always wanted to come. We used to come every year at Passover. I couldn't sit on the beach for too long because I always got burned. I went to say hello to some colleagues I used to work with in banking whom I had spoken to on the telephone. I went to say hello and got offered a job on the spot. I had said that I'd never come here to pick oranges, but if I got a decent job offer I'd consider it. So I got offered one and my wife said, 'Well…?' That was at Passover, we decided in May, and we made aliya that October."
Simon Monk's public life in Israel began a scant one year later. As part of a group of parents of elementary school-aged children, he lobbied the Education Ministry for the establishment of a national religious elementary school near his home in east Netanya. Their lobbying efforts successful, Monk thus became one of the founders and directors of the resulting new religious primary school, Moreshet Zvulun. Since that auspicious beginning, Monk was kept himself steadily and progressively involved at the local level. He joined the Civil Guard and serves regularly. He has also served for 10 years on the executive committee of the Israel British Chamber of Commerce. "My focus has always been on doing things for the public good. Always has been, always will be, whether I'm elected or not." As for his reason for pushing himself into Israeli politics, Monk explains, "After so many years of sitting on the outside, asking favors of politicians, my motivation now is to get on the inside to be able to activate things more smoothly from within."
Although Monk has mastered the intricacies of Israel's party-based political system and has learned to navigate his way around it, he still finds himself drawn more to the kind of politics he grew up with in the UK. A particularly compelling issue to Monk is the lack of regional representation in Israel - the fact that individual politicians do not represent specific districts or geographical areas, as they do in most democracies. "There's no question that people would feel more connected to the Knesset if they had their own member of the Knesset, as in the US, where people have their own congressman or their member of Parliament in the UK. In the UK, for example you have an individual [who] works for a dedicated area and a dedicated population. You have a connection. Margaret Thatcher, for example, represented an area in London called Finchley, which had a high Jewish population and brought her a lot of Jewish support. Here, the only way to get elected is to get on a party list, which means you have to answer to your people within the party, and not to the people within a local district."
Monk's arguments run counter to Israel's traditional notions of democracy, which contend that with the country's current system of pure proportionate representation, party politicians still represent - and are answerable to - distinct portions of the electorate. Only now, it's a matter of representing sectors of the population - secular, modern Orthodox, ultra-Orthodox, pensioners, Arabs, and so on - rather than geographic areas.
Monk disagrees. "Regional representation would establish more of a connection between the individual and a national politician. It would give a specific member of Knesset to that individual. On the local level, we can see dramatically how having a connection with a politician works to the good. With local issues like schools, clean streets and personal security, it's not what you know but who you know in the council. No matter what party you belong to, if you think you have a connection with someone on the council you can pick up the phone and call. I think that's a powerful plus."
Although he has never been elected to public office in Israel, Monk believes he brings an array of personal skills to the table that will ensure success as a local politician. He says, "Well, first of all, I can read a balance sheet. Finance and numbers I understand. There's a lot of money floating around in local government. I can identify the places where money can be saved; where money can be made, if possible; and allocations. Also, I'm very much a 'people person,' always have been, and I enjoy being with people. I mix well with all kinds of people. I can talk to someone on a lift, in a train, anywhere. And, most importantly, I will always answer a phone call - always. I may not always be able to give a great answer, or the answer that somebody wants, but I will always be accessible."
Monk says that he is already well known around Netanya for having more than the usual "Anglo-Saxon" fixation on street cleanliness. His voice rises and his speech quickens as he says, "Street cleaners, garbage collectors, rubbish being collected on time. People are being paid to keep the streets clean. Are they doing it faithfully? Are they doing it thoroughly? I was in Ra'anana a couple of years ago as the garbage truck was going by. A very small piece of paper fell off the back of the truck after the garbage had been thrown in. This being Ra'anana, the garbage people stopped, bent down, picked up this little bit of paper and put it back into the truck. I have not seen this sort of thing in many other cities, and I want to replicate that in Netanya. We don't need more money; there's already someone being paid to do this. It's just a question of getting him to do it better. And, we don't need more laws. The existing laws are more than adequate; enforcement is not."
Asked what he would like to change overnight if he had the power to do so, Monk replies, "Locally, I would have a much more dramatic increase in the enforcement of all the environmental laws, notably in terms of the cleanliness, the rubbish, the street cleaning. Also, the nuisance of noise, which is quite a problem in certain areas. Certainly, I'd have a far more dramatic enforcement presence. I believe I can have an impact at that level." Monk also says that he would work toward streamlining an unwieldy local bureaucracy, which - like many of its kind throughout Israel - English-speakers often find exasperatingly Kafkaesque. He would also strive to forge stronger and more effective connections between well-heeled Anglo immigrants and residents and Netanya's numerous charities, many of which, like ESRA and AACI, are run by retired, English-speaking volunteers. "The numbers of foreign residents have exploded during the past two years. French, English - these people are either moving here outright or buying holiday apartments in Netanya. They are now connected to the city, and they should be approached on a more systematic basis for donations to these charities."
At the national level, Monk favors a shift to regional representation, more tourism to Israel, and less taxation.
With so many "Anglo-Saxons" wishing they could exert a greater influence on Israeli culture and society, one might ask exactly how Simon Monk has been able to so boldly rush in where most English-speakers in Israel are afraid to tread? The answer may lie in what Monk calls "correct integration." He says, "We've had a number of Ethiopian students in the school which I'm a founder of, and we've proved that where you have correct integration, and not a ghetto school environment, the advancement of these students will be much faster and their prospects much better. Correct integration is that you don't have classes that are 90 percent Ethiopian. You have 10, 15% - whatever number that is much more easily absorbed - which provides them with a much wider circle of friends and acquaintances. There's no question that provides them with more successful integration."
Monk thus advises "Anglo-Saxons" not to ghettoize themselves here in Israel. He recalls the process of founding the elementary school as being his springboard not only into public life, but into integration with Israel as well. "I met most of my Israeli friends from our being fellow parents of our elementary school. I was working in an environment with native Israelis. And I was working in a non-English-speaking environment. And on a social level, it's the classic story of your kids making friends in kindergarten, and the friends' parents becoming your friends. That's the relationship we had. And I think if you come to Israel at a youngish age - if you come as young parents to Israel - your key to successful integration is to make sure you speak to the parents of all your kids' friends."
Monk's message to English-speaking immigrants who have toyed with the idea of entering Israeli politics is equally clear. "To really have an impact here, you have to be on the inside. Using pressure won't help. Lobbying, like Americans do with their congressmen, won't help either because here you don't have a congressman to lobby. You have to be on the inside, and that means getting involved with a local party, whichever party - Labor, Likud, Meretz, National Religious Party, whichever. You have to start playing your way into a local party list."
What lies ahead for Simon Monk over, say, the next 10 years? With a degree of integration into Israeli politics deep enough to enable him to feel like an "insider," what does Monk dare to dream? "If politics has become a full-time career, then I would hope to be in ten years time at least a deputy mayor of Netanya," he says, laying special emphasis on the words "at least." And with the ever-growing number of new "Anglo-Saxon" recruits to the rosters of Israel's political parties, a 'Deputy Mayor Monk' will likely find himself in good, English-speaking company in local, if not national Israeli government.
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