Netanyahu's popularity reels as Israel protests take root
Israel’s citizenry seems to have collectively blown a fuse.
TEL AVIV, Israel — Sebastian Engelbrecht, a German radio correspondent
stationed in Israel, found himself on the wrong side of a microphone the
other day in Tel Aviv.
Semi-amused, Razi Barkai, Israel’s top morning news maven was asking
him “Are you covering this? Are Germans really that interested in social
protests in Israel?”
Engelbrecht responded, “Not that interested so far, but this German is interested.”
“What are you finding so interesting in this situation?” replied Barkai, saddling up for a proper interview.
“After a year in Israel, my landlord decided to raise my rent by 100
percent,” Engelbrecht said. “One hundred percent! It’s outrageous! Where
can you imagine such chutzpah?”
As a late-July heat wave rolls up Israel from the Sinai desert, the
country has been seized by a different kind of Egyptian fever: massive
and unrelenting social protests taking over almost every last inch of
public space.
What started as two unrelated social actions over a month ago — a
Facebook campaign against inflated cottage cheese prices (an Israeli
staple) and a doctors’ strike — has blossomed into a nationwide,
multipronged collective revolt unprecedented in recent Israeli history.
It has also caught the government of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu
unprepared as he faces what is turning out to be the first serious
threat to his government’s stability.
Two weeks into the tenant’s revolt and after urban tent camps
mushroomed across Israeli cities, a clearly discomfited Netanyahu
hastily called a press conference. He announced the future construction
of reasonably-priced rental units and (addressing the cottage cheese
people) the reduction of raw milk prices by one and a half pennies per
liter.
Arnon Oshry, chairman of the Israeli Dairy Association, articulated the collective response the next morning: “Is he joking?”
Netanyahu’s approval ratings, meanwhile, have plummeted to 30 percent.
The Arab Spring, it appears, is turning into a hot, hot Israeli summer.
Nachum Barnea, senior political analyst for the daily Yedioth
Acharonoth, couldn’t hide the admiration in his voice when he said, “I
don’t think this has anything to do with Syria or Libya, of course, but I
can’t help but feel there is something of Tahrir Square in these
protests, in the relentlessness of them and also in their lack of focus.
People are simply fed up and unhappy, and they are taking to the
streets until things change. Without specific demands for negotiation or
anything. They just want change. And they are patient.”
More from GlobalPost: Forget the Middle East, here are the other revolutions you should know about
Barnea thus elegantly revealed a truth few here have dared to utter: as
revolts toppled Arab leaders this past spring and Israeli government
officials raced to sow the fear of regional instability among the
population, regular Israelis sipping tea in cafés and chatting with
friends at work could not restrain their esteem for what their neighbors
had peacefully wrought.
“This is for our brave brothers in Egypt,” boomed a jazz singer at Jerusalem’s popular Israel Festival, in June.
The day following Netanyahu’s press conference, opposition leader
Tsippi Livni got up at 6 a.m. and marched with striking doctors on their
way from Tel Aviv to Israel’s parliament in Jerusalem.
“I hope and think these protests will bring about a change of
government. The earlier, the better,” she said, uttering a sentiment
unthinkable only days earlier.
Netanyahu’s own interior minister, Eli Yishai, a member of the
religious Shas party that has historically identified itself as fighting
for the poor, told Israel Radio he would “be out there on the streets
with these people if I wasn’t part of the government.”
Jumping with some delay into the fray, Ofer Eini, chairman of the
Histadrut Labor Union, called for talks about tenants’ rights with the
government.
Israel’s citizenry seems to have collectively blown a fuse. The first
unlikely indication this took place was six weeks ago, when Israelis
returning from early summer weekends abroad began to notice that the
same Israeli-made cottage cheese they bought abroad, particularly in
Sofia, Berlin and London, cost more than double in their local
supermarkets.
Activists discovered that Israeli cottage cheese prices had risen by
more than 50 percent in the past two years, across the board, no matter
the company. One of them started a Hebrew-language Facebook page called “I Also Won’t Buy Any Cottage Cheese This Month” and it caught fire.
“Israelis are sick of incompetent politicians hiding behind ‘security
needs.’ They want action,” Barkai said after interviewing Engelbrecht.
“Who knows where this is going to end up.”
The issue of tenant rights is possibly the most serious matter
challenging the government as every social sector appears to be letting
off steam. On Thursday afternoon, for instance, thousands of parents
across the country gathered for various Marches of Strollers, demanding
free, obligatory day care starting at the age of three months.
According to Michel Strawczynski, director of the Bank of Israel
Research Department, one reason for Israel's robust economy during the
global economic crisis has been its extremely conservative mortgage
policy.
“It has always been very difficult to get a mortgage in Israel,” he said. As a result, many rent instead.
Frolicking in an entirely unregulated market (the concept of rent
control has yet to reach Israeli shores), landlords like Engelbrecht’s
regularly take advantage of renters' desperation.
On Wednesday night about 200 angry protesters, many of them young men
shirtless in the night heat, marched past Netanyahu’s Jerusalem
residence loudly calling for immediate action for young tenants.
Among them were Netanel Tzedek and Golan Atari, both 22 years old.
“Our government is like a fish,” Atari said. “It stinks from the head
on down. Lieberman, Netanyahu, they’re all disappointments.”
Atari did not vote in the last elections. Tzedek, in the first
elections of his life, voted for Green Leaf, a party championing the
rights of marijuana smokers that has never garnered a seat in
parliament.
“Who else was I going to vote for? Have you seen these bozos? He said,
gesturing vaguely in the direction of Netanyahu’s residence.
They were standing feet away from a spacious, open white tent, unlike
the compact hatches used by protesters downtown. This is the tent of Gilad Shalit, the Israeli soldier captured by Hamas five years ago.
His parents have been quietly sitting in front of the prime minister’s
residence for 13 months. Protesters aimed to connect their struggle to
his. One woman, walking past the Shalit tent, said “their struggle is
also a social struggle, just like ours.”
“Not really,” said Noam Shalit, Gilad’s father, after the crowd had
passed. “Our struggle is about life or death.” There has not been a sign
of life from his son for more than four years.
“The government is doing nothing.”
Comments