Pre-Election Elections by Rafi Sackville

from Five Towns Jewish Home - 3-11-21

That Coffee Experience by Rivki D. Rosenwald Esq., CLC, SDS

Israel Today

Pre-Election Election

By Rafi Sackville

In May 1996, Israel televised its first-ever debate between the two candidates running for prime minister. The late Shimon Peres squared off against a young Binyamin Netanyahu. The debate concept was so new it caught the older Peres off-guard. Whereas the concept was as old as democracy itself, in Israel it was quite the novelty. Despite a solid performance, Peres was outshone by the younger, media-savvy candidate. As the debate was winding down, Peres was asked if he had anything to ask his opponent. Missing a valuable opportunity to reply he famously replied, “I have nothing to ask him.” His solid 5% lead in the polls quickly evaporated, and he ultimately lost the election.

Ten years later, in 2006, the idea was conceived whereby high schools across the country hosted debates on what would be known as Democracy Day. The concept was simple: send political candidates or sitting Knesset member out across the country to schools where they would hold a debate in front of students. They would deliver three-minute stump speeches, after which students would be invited to ask them questions. The candidates would debate the questions. Once the debate was over, students would be allowed to participate in a state-wide “election.” The results would be covered in the major media outlets.

The concept has become popular enough to be incorporated in nearly all pre-elections since then. It is both educational and revealing, for it exposes students to a process most of them are excluded from, even if their participation isn’t an accurate reflection of how the Israeli electorate eventually votes.

The Ministry of Education’s website clarifies what it sees as the major goal of the project: that by involving 15-18 years old in the lead up to the election, students will hopefully encourage their parents to vote. In effect, the debate pits the hope and enthusiasm of youth against a growing indifference amongst voters. This being the fourth election in two years, it is understandable why people are experiencing ennui.

Yes, Democracy Day has become a trifle tedious. But for the upcoming March 2021 elections, all was in place to make it as meaningful an experience as possible. The only hiccup, the only elephant in the room, was Covid-19.

The pandemic threw a spanner in the works because most of learning since last September has been via Zoom. Seniors in my school were all invited back for the day, but only if they were taught in their assigned capsules. Unfortunately, many of the sophomores were in quarantine since one of them came down with Covid only days before the event.

We naively believed that, given any opportunity to get out of their homes, the students would have flocked to school. How wrong we were. Attendance was poor. I was assigned to a class of 19, and only three were present. This didn’t mean students couldn’t participate in the event. Many connected by computer and voted.

The day began with homeroom teachers teaching a basic civics class, refreshing students’ knowledge of Israel’s democracy and how it functions. For example, they explained how parties formulate their platforms, how the counting process works, and what percentage of the overall vote a party must have in order to gain entrance to the Knesset.

It used to be that the major political parties would send their members around the country to debate in front of students. The periphery was never an attraction for politicians. Two election cycles ago, our students hadn’t heard of the lower-ranking party apparatchiks who debated in Ma’alot.

Covid-19 at least leveled the playing field when it was clear that no party representatives would be appearing.

Instead, there was a live broadcast which began with slick party ads; some addressed what they’d promise the electorate, while others presented a platform of what (whom) they were running against.

The Knesset members and hopefuls gave their three-minute stump speeches from the confines of a studio. Regardless of the country, these speeches are difficult to listen to. After the Peres-Netanyahu debate in 1996, respected journalist Nahum Barnea wrote that the debate

is nothing more than a TV game, that “allows spoiled, lazy and indecisive voters to see their politicians recite bar mitzvah speeches against the clock.” Not much has changed in the years since then. The ten politicians sped through their speeches. Some were stopped mid-sentence by the buzzer; others were praised for ending before it rang. It was as if the only interest in their performance was whether they could beat the clock.

Once they finished, students were called upon via Zoom to ask their questions. And that’s when the fun began. The questions did not lead to polite discussion. There was no listening to one’s political rival with the respect and dignity we teach our students. Instead, there was a free-for-all yelling match in which it was impossible to understand what anyone was saying. At one point, the screaming was so loud that it was impossible to understand anything being said.

I later asked many of my students what they thought of the yelling.

Alexey, a senior, put it succinctly when he said, “Children could have handled the debate better, and certainly more politely.”

Yonatan shook his head in disgust. “It was appalling watching grownups yelling at each other in front of children.”

My colleagues discussed the appalling behavior. Our main takeaway was this: weren’t the politicians aware who their audience was? We agreed, however, that there was nothing unusual about their behavior, only disappointment.

All the questions were well-constructed and covered an array of topics: how the elections were driving the government’s pandemic re-

sponse; equality in Israeli society; the ongoing trial of the prime minister; the role of chareidim in government. Each questioner addressed the panel with the respect one expects of high schoolers.

After the televised transmission, students were invited to vote.

The outcome in Ma’alot was not a surprise. Most towns in the periphery tend to lean to the right, which is why Likud received 47% of the vote.

The country-wide results were far more balanced and represented the same type of numbers we have witnessed in the previous three elections; an even 26% split between the main left and right wing parties, and the remaining votes spread across the minority parties.

If these results are anything to go by, it might not come as a surprise that we might find ourselves in a fifth political campaign before too long.

Twenty-five years after the first debate, Shimon Peres has left us, Bibi is still media-savvy, and Israeli politics has become one long, noisy election cycle.