Heaven knows the Israeli system is far from perfect, bordering on unworkable. But as I held that US ballot, I asked myself whether the US process was really the height of political maturity.
By HERB KEINONherb keinon(photo credit: )
My US presidential ballot came by way of e-mail the other day, and - I'll admit it - for a second there John Phillip Sousa marches went off in my head.
There is something about an American ballot that just feels real, genuine, the ballot equivalent of Levi blue jeans. It's as if this is how a ballot is supposed to look; not those little slips of paper with three letters that make up words tangentially associated to parties that we here slip into envelopes when we vote, as if we are selecting a new student council.
This very subjective feeling is, obviously, part of my socialization process, and I am a very well socialized American. Holding that ballot brought to mind John Adams and the Gettysburg Address, Iwo Jima and the Pledge of Allegiance, the Rocky Mountains and Robert Frost and civil rights and civic duties and all those things that make me so American, even though I've now lived the majority of my life here. It's in me, a part of me, a fabric of my very being.
"Abba, you're so American," my daughter remarked once as we shared a plate of pita, humous and s'hug. And this, indeed, is one of her common plaints: "Stop being so American."
But I can't. And one part of being an American in Israel is a certain reflexive tendency to look down the nose at the country's political system and process. It's as if in America the democratic political process has been perfected, while in Israel it's all a joke, what with our tendency to go to elections every couple of years, and the horse trading that is part of our coalition process.
Many are the Americans here who think, "Ah, if only the political process here was just like in America, then everything would be better." And that sentiment, obviously, is not constrained to politics.
Ah, if we only had the manners here they have in America. Ah, if we only had the supermarkets here they have in America. Ah, if only people smiled here like they do in America. Ah, if only we had leisure time here like they have in America. Ah, if we only had the banking system here that they have in America. Ah, if we only had the ability to buy our houses here with no money down like they do in America.
Ah, if Israel were only America.
And then there is the other component of that American-Israeli mind-set, adopting the very Israeli tendency to look down the nose at American society and culture - an American society and culture Israelis ape and want to emulate - as somehow superficial and inferior.
Our Israeli concerns are real, existential; theirs are shallow, superficial.
We deal with issues of war and peace, they busy themselves with sports, weather and celebrities.
It's an odd phenomenon, but Israelis often sound downright European in their tendency to see US culture as shallow and meaningless, and to view the US as incurably naive when it comes to the world. It's an attitude that says we - who live in the tough neighborhood - understand how things work; the Americans are hopelessly unsophisticated.
What you end up with, essentially, is Americans in Israel looking down at Israelis, and Israelis looking down on Americans. And one of the hidden beauties of being an American-Israeli is the ability to look down on both with equal measure. It's a great benefit, actually, and one that should be used by the Nefesh B'Nefesh folks to promote aliya.
"Come home, that way you can condescend not only toward Israelis, which you do in the States, but now toward Americans as well."
BUT THIS condescension toward the Israeli political process has lost some of its appeal for me during this election cycle. Heaven knows the Israeli system is far from perfect, bordering on unworkable. But as I held that US ballot, I asked myself whether the US process was really the height of political maturity. Was it really what I romanticized about all these years?
These thoughts sprouted after watching John McCain grovel on The David Letterman Show the other night, apologizing for having the temerity to have told the popular nighttime talk show host that during the week of the great financial meltdown, he was actually too busy to appear.
"I got to think, well maybe I'm just not important enough," Letterman said to McCain. To which McCain should have responded, "Right, Dave. Bingo."
But the clincher was watching McCain's running mate Sarah Palin appear on Saturday Night Live last week, nodding her head to the rhythm of a rap song that mercilessly mocked her and McCain. This is after Alec Baldwin told her,"You are way hotter in person."
Now I'm all in favor of self-deprecating humor, but this was over the top, and brought to a pinnacle the dumbing down of American politics.
Call me Old School, but I think there still is dignity in the office of president of the United States (there is that socialization process kicking in again), and the idea that a candidate has to show his or her hipness by appearing on the late night television circuit diminishes that dignity.
Last September I got a bad taste in my mouth when President Shimon Peres felt the need to meet and be photographed with Madonna and her then-husband Guy Ritchie. I got the same sense two months later when Prime Minister Ehud Olmert took time out to meet Jerry Seinfeld.
What kind of country is this, I thought, that our leaders are so starved for acceptance they need to meet and be photographed with celebrities? Where's the self respect, the dignity? This wouldn't happen in a real country. What are we, a banana republic?
No, I now realize, we're like America.
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