Threats, Competing Narratives and a Country on the Brink - on Election Eve in Israel
I'm finally bingeing Eylon Levy's election podcast, after changing my mind hourly for the past month about who to vote for in tomorrow's historic election.
This will be my second time ever voting in Israel, but my first time in 20 years.
What happens this time could mean the country's survival or not - and what this means depending on who you ask will get you an entirely different response, as is always the case in Israel.
For me, being Israeli but mostly having an audience abroad, writing about the crisis here since October 7th has been maddening, as the moment I've tried to explain the anger at Netanyahu to many Jews abroad, I have been called somebody who "emboldens Hamas."
I was also told for more than two years fighting to bring the hostages home that they were "collateral damage" and considered dead since October 7th by the most insensitive of Diaspora Jews, as if the young Israelis who served for three years to defend them - these people making the comments abroad - deserved to be sitting and rotting and starving, chained in the tunnels of Gaza, which most of them were doing - alive but only just.
So, I have found it difficult to explain where Israelis are coming from, and on the flip side, Israelis have wanted me to only cover the anger in Israel, without understanding that I am taking on the world and the hatred of Jews and the Jewish state - so feel I need to often defend Israel's actions at all costs, which of course has included Netanyahu. In other words, I do not feel I have the luxury to really talk about these things as a full-on Israeli, because I am so sensitive to the opinion of the world - both the haters and even the Israel-supporters, who think they know more than they actually know and are often unwilling to listen to those of us that live here. My own upset with Bibi has centered primarily on his refusal to do an independent investigation into what happened on October 7th, which has historically been the first priority after any terror attack, to ensure such a catastrophe would never happen again. There is also significant documentation that the female soldiers at the Nachal Oz base watched Hamas practicing the attack for months, reported it frequently to their higher ups, were threatened with jail time, and told "You are the eyes - not the brain." Most of them were murdered on October 7th, and eight were kidnapped for more than a year.
There are other things, which may or may not be true about Bibi, but I will not entertain conspiracy theories. It is also simply a fact that Israel is a democracy - and we do not have Kings in democracies, and being in power as long as he has been - is basically that. This leads us to the strongest opposition candidate to become Prime Minister, which is supposedly Gadi Eisenkot of the Yashar party, which means "straight," and is inspired by former hostage, Eli Sharabi's words, "It's not right, it's not left - it's straight [ahead]."
A former general in the IDF, he has the military experience for sure. His son also died fighting the war in Gaza in December of 2023, (as opposed to not fighting and living in Miami, like Bibi's son). By all accounts, Eisenkot is a man of great character, and since the country's trust is absolutely shattered - he is seen as someone who can unify, mend and begin to put things back together, while also continuing the fight with Iran - and simultaneously addressing Israel's other two massive issues - the astronomical cost of living and the Haredim not participating in the IDF or Israeli society, while being fully supported by the State. My issue with Eisenkot is his lack of political experience, especially on the global stage. It is hard for me to imagine him working internationally, as his English is quite poor, and though this should really be reserved for the Foreign Minister, I am sincerely hoping we can cut the head off the snake in Iran in the next two years (Regime Change!) or I fear very grave things for Israel's survival as a nation - and I question how well he will work with world leaders to accomplish this. Another opposition candidate is Naftali Bennett, who briefly served as Prime Minister before, has more political experience, stronger English, a very strong plan to essentially force the Haredim to participate in society (or lose their free ride) - and also a plan to reduce costs - as much as 30% - (or so he says).
Einat Wilf gives Eylon a fantastic interview however, with fresh, unique and bold ideas, and addresses the "global psychosis" regarding Israel - and how we are seen as the "barrier to Utopia" to the deranged West. She says we must be prepared for epic catastrophes - attacks on our electricity grids, desalination plants (I was already affected by this last month) and turn to survival skills, like growing our own food on rooftops.
But back to the cost of living. I cannot overstate how unaffordable things are here. If I did not have some help with groceries - which will end in a matter of months - I would not be able to afford food. Two bananas, two parsnips to make my mother's pea soup, and two celery roots, which I was told were cheaper for the same soup - were 30 NIS - so $10 USD. Ground beef is $20 frozen, a fresh piece of salmon is $33. For awhile, I started living on cups of noodles - which are about 25 cents in the US - here they are $3 to $4. Our defense budget is enormous and keeps going up, and our taxes are 18%. Though I reluctantly chose "cheaper" Be'ersheva as a place to park myself in April when the war became too out of control, after an entire year of jumping around (to be explained below), so have rent at about $1000, it includes nothing. Israeli taxes monthly are more than $100, my electricity bill over the grueling (seven-month) summer has been $150 a month, then there are gas bills and water bills. My "plan" to move back to Israel was very specific and took two years of coming and going to implement. I did not move back to Israel on a whim or to get into the gaming industry, which was what happened to me 20 years ago when I made Aliyah the first time. I returned initially after the October 7th attack, for the first time in 11 years, because I related to the trauma of the families I was watching on TV, and I wanted to tell the stories to the world. Once here, as I slowly began to meet people from the Kibbutzim that were slaughtered, which I never imagined would happen, it started to seem like it might be possible to live on one of these kibbutzim myself - and write a book about what happened. This was my goal, and it was an enormous one and an enormously complicated one, which required very careful maneuvering, as of course, my new friends had lost so much, as had I, so it was easy to make mistakes, or say or do the wrong thing, and I was constantly having to stop myself from sharing too much about my own life experience, doing so anyway, and stop myself again. When I finally returned to Israel to live last May, I began my time volunteering on one of these kibbutzim with babies for three months - many whom were orphaned - but I was asked by someone I love in the US to please call them. It had been three years since we had spoken, so I had reasons to be anxious about this. I explained to this person the importance of the work I was doing, and that my new friends were all survivors of the October 7th attack, and that I needed to be their support and not vice versa. I had a concern that the phone call could bring up everything I had lived through for the nine years prior to October 7th, things I can not afford to relive at the best of times, but certainly not now (or then) - when I was finally starting my new life in Israel - which was/is my last chance at building a life - and certainly not with survivors of October 7th as my only support system. I explained that I didn't think calling was a good idea, as I was working in the highest-stress environment possible, with people who are all completely and rightfully traumatized; that I couldn't afford to have anything go wrong. Despite all of this, I felt guilty not calling, so I explained that my friend would be joining me on the call for support - and gave the story of this very dear friend - who lost 100 of their community members (murdered), including a family member and several close friends. I thought this would guarantee the call would be short, "safe," with boundaries set in advance - while still allowing me to make the call, and so not hurt anyone's feelings. Despite all of this preparation, I made the call with my friend, and it became three hours long. My friend was not given condolences for their many losses, the volunteering I was doing was not discussed, nor was the 12-Day Iran War we had just lived through here. It was only what I said I couldn't do - talking about the previous decade of very unpleasant experiences and memories - that was on display. The effect of this conversation was harsh and immediate, and my support from then until now - was my October 7th survivor friends - and as I knew, I couldn't lean on them with this. I had been two months away from a position on the kibbutz of my dreams that included a free house with a Hebrew-speaking roommate, a paid job, very affordable food, a community I adored and the sense of belonging I've always dreamed of. It was a place to write my book from, and I was on the verge of a publishing deal.
It was two years of hard work only made possible because of nine years of grueling heartache that allowed me to connect with people going through the most horrific of experiences, but having to relive my heartache after I had just put my life back together - inside this highly charged environment - was simply too much.
These were the risks I knowingly took, and expressed in advance to the person I was calling, praying that the seriousness of the work I was doing here would be understood, but I had much too much on the line here and far too much to lose - to have taken such a risk at such a crucial crossroads in my life - literally, what was most likely my last chance at building a home on a kibbutz in Israel - which I am fearing may mean - building any home in Israel.
Coming to terms with the impact of that decision over the past 16 months has been difficult to wrap my head around - because I knew I wasn't a high-tech AI person competitive in the Israeli job market at any time - but at wartime?
Essentially - it has felt like the entire reason I moved back to Israel - was out the window.
I did not move back to work in marketing in Tel Aviv in the "bubble," where rents are $3000 - $4000 a month, so...
After my plan fell apart, I dog sat all over the country for six long months to save money, and invested more savings taking a film class, to increase my skills in telling the stories of October 7th, and have made two short films - one which I recently shared in a post (watch it here) - and the other which has been submitted to film festivals all over the world, but to continue this work as an actual job, I will need to find funding.
This past week, I did finally visit another kibbutz on the Gaza border, and was bold enough to ask if they take any new members that aren't young families, and try to gauge what the financial commitment is, since these days, becoming a kibbutz member is an enormous financial undertaking. They have long waitlists - even on the border of Gaza - and your finances are scrutinized - your reasons for wanting to live there put under a microscope - your background - everything - is examined by committees, members, psychologists - it's quite the process. I explained to her my lifelong search for belonging, my reasons for returning to Israel, and my specific desire to live in these hurt communities, both because I relate to the loss and the trauma, and in order to write these stories and make these films - but I got the sense it might be quite the long shot for a single woman.
One thing I know for sure is I cannot and will not leave Israel, so it being the most expensive country in the world...I have to just hope that this election will start to change things. Will I have to give up on my mission to tell the thousands of stories of the lives lost on the ground here in order to survive? I hope not. Will I have to return to the online gambling industry and hot and humid Tel Aviv to make ends meet? I pray not. Will I have to give up on the south and go north where I know absolutely nobody, will definitely need a car, and where jobs will be just as scarce? That seems silly. Let me ask something I should have asked a long time ago to you, dear readers.
Are any of you in publishing, filmmaking, or part of a Jewish organization, Federation, or a synagogue that might want to show my 20-minute film with Tom and Emily Hand? Please contact me privately through my website, or follow my Facebook and Instagram pages and contact me through there - the icons at the top should connect you.
In the meantime, if you enjoy my writings, and would like to see my continued updates from the ground in Israel (which should likely increase in the coming days and weeks as the war promises to explode any second), I have just been notified by Wix that it is time to pay up for my next three years for this website and ouch! is it steep. If you can afford $18, or anything at all, please click the donate button and contribute to my GoFundMe. I can guarantee you all donations will go directly to keeping my website (and me) alive and well. Thank you so much and Shalom from the Negev in Israel. Wish us luck here tomorrow! I have absolutely NO idea what is going to happen.
Comments