Ophra
11-07-2005, 03:59 AM
The left is as dead as the candles we lit there in Rabin Square
Shai Niv
I was also there. I also lit candles, wrote on the walls and taught my friends the chords to "To cry for you."
But when the candles went out, we lost the elections. For all the songs, the tears, and cliches about tolerance, we forgot to pay attention. The murderer's bullets continue to kill.
We thought they would stop in Rabin Square. We went to bed with Peres and awoke with Netanyahu. The man who incited and smiled became prime minister against all odds.
All of a sudden people who bowed their heads and asked forgiveness told a different story at the polls. Nothing was learned.
We should have left the guitars and set out to fight for the ideas that now seem obvious.
Instead of silence with the candles, we should have shouted out, to draw the public with us.
That day in Tel Aviv, the Israeli Left died. The third bullet hit not only the body guard, but also half of Israel's political map. As soon as the euphoria ended that night, we abandoned the square.
The banners gradually decreased, and the word "leftist" became a curse. All of a sudden, we were "not leftists, moderates."
We chose to focus on ourselves, to let things be. We didn't even look for the guilty. Damn, we should have posted their names on the wall.
'We should have fought them'
There may have been one murderer, but a well-oiled establishment including the Yesha Council, politicians and rabbis worked day and night, until someone got the message and fired.
This is the same Yesha Council that receives government funds and spent millions on useless orange posters, and the same "rebel" politicians who now call Ariel Sharon a traitor.
We should have fought them. Should have put out the candles and burned down the caravans on abandoned hilltops. Should have camped out opposite the home of every inciter and made their lives bitter.
But instead, we accepted their silence. We thought that was enough.
They declared war that night, and we lost. We became complacent, materialistic, empty of all feeling and impotent – just like today's Labor Party.
Look at the price of bread now, and we, "quasi-socialists", are silent.
Public officials we elected are already making plans for their next terms in government, instead of rolling up their sleeves in opposition.
And who really needs an opposition when the Likud pulls out of Gaza? Bread is an issue for Shas or the Arab parties.
The Left means war and peace. There is no grey in the middle, no people.
That day in Tel Aviv we adopted the slogan we loved to hate: "Only Likud can." We had no choice, many will say. The Likud drives us crazy, but the minute they are in power they carry out all our ideas.
"Sharon is (former prime ministerial candidate) Amram Mitzna without a beard."
The poor will always vote for the Likud and the young people will vote for Shinui. The left is as dead as the candles we lit there in Rabin Square.
It transmits a message of laxity, of being lost, and mainly of having no alternative to offer. Ehud Barak managed for a brief moment to channel the public's disgust with Netanyahu and bring back a tiny bit of spark to the young, leftist crowd.
But the letdown was quick in coming, and the spark went quickly out.
Now, there are more ceremonies and the Israeli left talks about Rabin's legacy, focusing almost entirely on the Oslo agreements.
The tailored ministers of the Labor Party must remember that Rabin doubled, nearly tripled, the state education budget. He created new sources of employment and reduced the gap between rich and poor.
"Poverty" was just about a foreign concept under his leadership.
Shame on "leftist" ministers who sit today in a government that is socially deaf and concerned only with the upper class, but yet speak about Rabin's legacy. In 1992 he won with the slogan "A large leftist camp". Today, that sticker would emit a hearty laugh from strategists.
So we let the candles go out and put the guitars in the closet. We cut our hair, got out of Lebanon, got back into the territories and were degraded.
Along the way, we voted for Sharon, or Mitzna – with his bullying outlook.
We came back from abroad and decided there's no place like home.
But things are still bad for us. We lost this war, because we never set out to fight it. We watched as they destroyed houses, how there is more poverty, how they shoot children and cover up investigations, how they drop bombs and feel nothing more than a little bump under the wing.
We saw how they close factories and how the whole world could choke, how every corrupt person becomes a TV star. We saw all this, but we watched in silence.
We spoke up only when they threatened to hit our tuition, and even then most of us were apathetic. Once in a while we shudder, but that, too, passes. Just like the songs you hear today on the radio.
We deserved to lose this war. If we are not prepared to fight for the price of bread, we will eventually cry. That night in Rabin Square, a man who fought his whole life so we could sing songs was killed.
We lost more than power, we lost the country. We might be driving nicer cars and living in homes with gardens, but inside we are broken. One day we will return to Rabin Square with our children and representatives, and we will come a little bit back to life.
Until then, the Israeli Left is dead.
Shai Niv is a former spokesman for the student union at Sapir Academic College and currently works in public relations and media advisement
http://www.ynetnews.com/articles/0,7340,L-3165225,00.html
Shai Niv
I was also there. I also lit candles, wrote on the walls and taught my friends the chords to "To cry for you."
But when the candles went out, we lost the elections. For all the songs, the tears, and cliches about tolerance, we forgot to pay attention. The murderer's bullets continue to kill.
We thought they would stop in Rabin Square. We went to bed with Peres and awoke with Netanyahu. The man who incited and smiled became prime minister against all odds.
All of a sudden people who bowed their heads and asked forgiveness told a different story at the polls. Nothing was learned.
We should have left the guitars and set out to fight for the ideas that now seem obvious.
Instead of silence with the candles, we should have shouted out, to draw the public with us.
That day in Tel Aviv, the Israeli Left died. The third bullet hit not only the body guard, but also half of Israel's political map. As soon as the euphoria ended that night, we abandoned the square.
The banners gradually decreased, and the word "leftist" became a curse. All of a sudden, we were "not leftists, moderates."
We chose to focus on ourselves, to let things be. We didn't even look for the guilty. Damn, we should have posted their names on the wall.
'We should have fought them'
There may have been one murderer, but a well-oiled establishment including the Yesha Council, politicians and rabbis worked day and night, until someone got the message and fired.
This is the same Yesha Council that receives government funds and spent millions on useless orange posters, and the same "rebel" politicians who now call Ariel Sharon a traitor.
We should have fought them. Should have put out the candles and burned down the caravans on abandoned hilltops. Should have camped out opposite the home of every inciter and made their lives bitter.
But instead, we accepted their silence. We thought that was enough.
They declared war that night, and we lost. We became complacent, materialistic, empty of all feeling and impotent – just like today's Labor Party.
Look at the price of bread now, and we, "quasi-socialists", are silent.
Public officials we elected are already making plans for their next terms in government, instead of rolling up their sleeves in opposition.
And who really needs an opposition when the Likud pulls out of Gaza? Bread is an issue for Shas or the Arab parties.
The Left means war and peace. There is no grey in the middle, no people.
That day in Tel Aviv we adopted the slogan we loved to hate: "Only Likud can." We had no choice, many will say. The Likud drives us crazy, but the minute they are in power they carry out all our ideas.
"Sharon is (former prime ministerial candidate) Amram Mitzna without a beard."
The poor will always vote for the Likud and the young people will vote for Shinui. The left is as dead as the candles we lit there in Rabin Square.
It transmits a message of laxity, of being lost, and mainly of having no alternative to offer. Ehud Barak managed for a brief moment to channel the public's disgust with Netanyahu and bring back a tiny bit of spark to the young, leftist crowd.
But the letdown was quick in coming, and the spark went quickly out.
Now, there are more ceremonies and the Israeli left talks about Rabin's legacy, focusing almost entirely on the Oslo agreements.
The tailored ministers of the Labor Party must remember that Rabin doubled, nearly tripled, the state education budget. He created new sources of employment and reduced the gap between rich and poor.
"Poverty" was just about a foreign concept under his leadership.
Shame on "leftist" ministers who sit today in a government that is socially deaf and concerned only with the upper class, but yet speak about Rabin's legacy. In 1992 he won with the slogan "A large leftist camp". Today, that sticker would emit a hearty laugh from strategists.
So we let the candles go out and put the guitars in the closet. We cut our hair, got out of Lebanon, got back into the territories and were degraded.
Along the way, we voted for Sharon, or Mitzna – with his bullying outlook.
We came back from abroad and decided there's no place like home.
But things are still bad for us. We lost this war, because we never set out to fight it. We watched as they destroyed houses, how there is more poverty, how they shoot children and cover up investigations, how they drop bombs and feel nothing more than a little bump under the wing.
We saw how they close factories and how the whole world could choke, how every corrupt person becomes a TV star. We saw all this, but we watched in silence.
We spoke up only when they threatened to hit our tuition, and even then most of us were apathetic. Once in a while we shudder, but that, too, passes. Just like the songs you hear today on the radio.
We deserved to lose this war. If we are not prepared to fight for the price of bread, we will eventually cry. That night in Rabin Square, a man who fought his whole life so we could sing songs was killed.
We lost more than power, we lost the country. We might be driving nicer cars and living in homes with gardens, but inside we are broken. One day we will return to Rabin Square with our children and representatives, and we will come a little bit back to life.
Until then, the Israeli Left is dead.
Shai Niv is a former spokesman for the student union at Sapir Academic College and currently works in public relations and media advisement
http://www.ynetnews.com/articles/0,7340,L-3165225,00.html