“To be, or not to be,” Hamlet’s existential howl, has reverberated through four centuries and counting; luckily, most of us escape the depths of his horrible angst. The Prince of Denmark is venting over the agony of life, the pain, the humiliation, the hopelessness. Why don’t we, he wonders, just end it all with a bare bodkin to the heart; one arterial slash would see us shuffle off the mortal coil and sleep.
“To sleep, perchance to dream... ay, there’s the rub,” he continues, in impossibly melodious meter for such a solemn thought. We don’t embrace mass suicide because we are all cowards, according to his churned-up logic; we fear burning in hell if we do the deed.
That’s one way of looking at life, and there’s a case to be made for schlepping on to avoid landing up on an eternal bonfire, but I don’t agree with that bleak worldview. My take is that we power on through despair because we expect things to get better; we know they will, we believe they have to. And the role of leaders in times of crisis is to address crushing problems, spell out a plan, reassure with solutions, and appeal to us for a partnership that will steer us out of the mess. In times of trouble, that’s what leaders do.
Except for our leader.
Netanyahu fails at crisis leadership
Our prime minister addresses us sporadically, with or without his minister of security and cabinet partner, as the mood takes him. The only thing he hits us with is that he is in charge – he instructed his government (of which he is in charge); he commanded the army (of which he is in charge); he will run this war, and together we will succeed.
No plan, no admission of responsibility for the colossal mess-up that happened after just under 20 years of his (almost unbroken) reign – no practical steps, just “I, I, I, I, I,” and “Together we will win!”
This is rich, coming from a prime minister who sneered that his opponents were “left-wing extremists” and “have forgotten what it means to be Jewish,” who called us traitors for resisting his attempts to enshrine himself and his agenda with his judicial overhaul fiasco, and who, for decades, tirelessly turned one half of the country against the other.
Now he harangues us to be unified, as he continues to pour money into his base, endlessly appeasing National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir, Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich, and National Missions Minister Orit Struck to stop them from toppling him. Let the sane majority in the country eat cake.
IT IS problematic to protest during wartime, even when the prime minister is kowtowing to henchmen whose comments about resettling Gaza and transferring citizens are jeopardizing our chances of victory at The Hague. Everybody in Israel wants to win the war, to support the army, and to stand united. Many loyal citizens, even those who don’t support the government, feel uneasy at demonstrating against those who are supposed to be in charge of our shaky security; nobody wants to make things even worse.
However, with Netanyahu at the helm, a huge chunk of the public doesn’t feel safe; we don’t believe a word he says. And when the cry for protests comes from soldiers who spent weeks and months fighting in Gaza, bereaved parents whose children were murdered, and families of hostages, it seems utterly legitimate to take to the streets, now more than ever.
Until October 6, 2023, the Holy Land was an unholy mess, with a catastrophic government that ignited the country as lawmakers steamrolled through a bunch of laws that could potentially weaken Israel’s democracy. For 39 straight weeks, hundreds of thousands of Israelis demonstrated up and down the land, determined to stop the ruination of our justice system, our free press, and our democracy. Then catastrophe struck, and all protests stopped together.
In the weeks after that unspeakable Shabbat, the demonstrators shifted focus and concentrated on providing aid. Achim Leneshek (Brothers in Arms) morphed into Achim Lemeshek (Brothers for the State). The good citizens of Israel put on uniforms and went to fight; others collected clothes, cooked food, picked tomatoes, and rallied around the flag that they’d been carrying for months in city squares. And the government went into paralysis. Ministers were conspicuously absent from funerals and shivas, public services were woefully insufficient, and mourners felt betrayed for a second time.
First came the horrendous betrayal of trust on that dreadful Saturday by a government that had previously touted a platform of security and strength. Then came the second betrayal: ministers fighting over funds for the (largely non-army-serving) haredi community and education, as well as settler outposts. Petty, money-grabbing politics was back. Within a fortnight after October 7, bereaved families started calling in and demanding a voice.
YAAKOV GUDO, for example, is a 74-year-old kibbutznik whose son was murdered on Kibbutz Kissufim, despite the army twice entering their house as the family sheltered for 25 hours in the security room. In mid-November, Gudo pitched a protest tent in front of the Knesset, and some 10 others join him there every night. Up to 2,000 protesters gather every Monday and Friday morning; the numbers are swelling each week. Demonstrations are growing exponentially in Tel Aviv, Kfar Saba, Caesarea, Haifa, and more; the cry is no longer for “Democracy Now” but for “Elections Now.” Many citizens, including ex-security officials, believe it’s become an existential issue for the survival of Israel. Demonstrators believe the country is simply not safe under our present leadership.
Voices of those speaking out in protest include Eran Litman, whose daughter, Uriya, was slaughtered at the Supernova music festival; Shirel Hogeg from Ofakim, whose sister and her husband and baby daughter managed to flee the flames of their house in Kfar Aza and are still recovering; Jonathan Shimriz, brother of hostage Alon, who was so tragically shot by our own soldiers by mistake; and Eyal Eshel, whose lookout soldier daughter warned about impending danger and was ignored. She was burned to death at her post on Kibbutz Nachal Oz.
With a quarter of a million citizens displaced, no clear plan of action, a war that many citizens believe Netanyahu will drag out to save his own skin, a security minister handing out guns indiscriminately in his crazy quest to make us even more militant, a finance minister who doesn’t know economics, and inept ministers spouting lines that go verbatim into Eretz Nehederet’s weekly satirical show, it’s no wonder that sleeping tablets and anti-anxiety/depression drugs are flying off the shelves.
But we will not succumb to grabbing one of Ben-Gvir’s guns and doing ourselves in; we will grab a flag instead, week after dreary week, and stand in our city centers and demand “Elections Now!” And, sooner or later, this appalling government will collapse, and we will go back to breathing again.
See you at a demo!
The writer lectures at Reichman University. Peledpam@gmail.com