Wednesday, 10 a.m., the lobby of the Crowne Plaza Hotel in Jerusalem. The Jewish Home primaries are opening. Yesterday, Jewish Home spokesman Naftali Bennett announced that he would vote at a ballot box set up in a synagogue in Petah Tikva, and then issued another statement to reporters that the location had moved here, to a hotel next to the Knesset.
It's more than royal to take a picture here. In a few minutes, Bennett will arrive here and insert a ballot into the ballot box, surrounded by Rabbi Eli Ben-Dahan, MK Shuli Mualem and Dr. Anat Roth. This won't be casual either. These are people he wanted inside.
The first two did get in, the new Roth stayed out, like almost all the new ones.
The next day, it would become clear that the expensive and publicized primaries ultimately resulted in the election of almost the same list. The religious Zionist sector began, as usual, with polemics: Is this list too religious? Will it drive away secular voters? It seems to me that the discussion is irrelevant.
Most of the new audiences that Bennett brings in don't recognize most of the MKs. From their perspective, there's no big team here, there's one golden egg here — Naftali Bennett. He's young, combative, right-wing, speaks good English on CNN and is included in the leftist "Tashkort". He's a brother.
I saw him this week at a large rally of youth from abroad, exciting the audience and closing the speech with the following text: "I love you. God is with you." The audience was blown away.
Internal polls indicate, by the way, that voters are interested in the right, not religiosity. While religious Zionism has countless conservative-liberal debates, it turns out that what stirs up the synagogue leaflets is not at all what brings or takes away seats.
That's why Bennett is running away from the religious issue. Why go into corners and remind his voters of their disagreements in this area? And what kind of viral video can be made about religion and state? It's better to go back to Tzipi Livni. Everyone in his party will agree on that.
This campaign, which seems cool and young and almost spontaneous, is meticulously managed. And the campaign boss has been hanging around here for half an hour before Bennett arrives, preparing the ground.
Moshe Klughaft, 35, whose small kippa, the kind known today as the "Bennett kippa," is almost blown off by the Jerusalem wind. A group of boys and girls are waiting there, rehearsing the following song: "Bennett is a chairman / Bennett is a cannon / Bennett is a bull / Bennett is a brother.".
They sing over and over again, but when the cannon itself arrives and exits the vehicle, their singing suddenly changes to "Oh, who's coming, the next prime minister," at a volume that may have even reached Balfour Street.
This week I returned to an interview that Klughaft gave to the newspaper Besheva in 2008, when he was a communications consultant for companies and organizations, and he didn't yet know Bennett. He was asked there about the flourishing of Jewish music, about Shuli Rand and Aviatar Banai, and more, and said that he was in no hurry to participate in the celebration: "What do they all have in common? They were all born secular and converted. The religious ones don't grow anything out of them. This symbolizes many things that are missing in our public: creativity, thinking outside the box.
""In order for religious Zionism and the right in general to succeed in penetrating the public, they need to switch to the colorful, secular rhetoric of the field they are in. When something arouses interest, attracts and plays with the right tools, television and media — it exists. Meretz, Likud, Greens, pensioners — it's interesting. Only the National Democratic Party is not interesting. We need to make this arena a fascinating arena, we must.".
Seven years later, Klughaft created what he wanted.
During the primaries at work, Shelly Yachimovich moved between television studios. In one of them, she saw before the broadcast the planned opening for a conversation with her, which read: "Hello to those competing for the first woman slot at work, Shelly Yachimovich.".
Yachimovich, a minute into the broadcast, asked for a correction. "I'm not competing for the first woman slot, but for the first place on the list." A small-big comment. The next day she also won the battle for that spot. And the day after that, Ayelet Shaked did the same. They are not the first woman on the list, they are the first.
Monday, 12 noon, Mount of Rest. State burial ceremony for the four murdered in France.
It was essentially a whole hour of unexpected "game-changer" from the elections. Netanyahu spoke without talking about the Likud, but only about Jewish unity and mutual guarantee. Bozhi Herzog, on a day that was also Labor's primary day, didn't talk about it at all. Herzog spoke about Zionism and the righteousness of the path and Jerusalem.
One could imagine what was written in the bubbles above the heads of everyone sitting there. What Aryeh Deri, Bennett, Eli Yishai and Amir Peretz think about each other. But without cynicism, truths were heard on Har Hamenuchot this week that go beyond the elections.
Passover Eve, about 20 years ago. A youth delegation of young Israelis leaves for France on behalf of the Jewish Agency with lots of training materials and lots of motivation and morale.
Traveling to bring a little of the Land of Israel to the Jews of France. To do Zionist activities for them on the Passover holiday. I was also part of that delegation, a good girl from Herzliya. In my bag I packed sweets for the journey. Biscuits, waffles, cookies. Not because it's leavened. Not to make people angry. It wasn't on my agenda at all. It was just packed, naturally.
The Jewish communities in Paris and Nice welcomed us with a huge hug. It was something new. A great experience. A warm Sephardic synagogue where everyone sings together. Young people who are really excited about matzah and four cups. Combinations of European and Eastern, of academia and rabbinic, of Zionism and Torah, of new and old, not according to our Israeli divisions of "religious" or "secular.".
Everyone there was on the same page. And they made no effort to change us, the Israeli guests, they were just being themselves.
Halfway through the journey, on the Hol HaMoed of that Passover, I decided to take all the biscuits out of my bag. It wasn't a dramatic elimination of leaven on the Seine River in Paris. I just threw everything into some French trash can.
Later that day, the delegation stopped by a small kosher supermarket, and I bought a bunch of kosher coconut cookies for Passover. I haven't eaten leaven on Passover since. Without grandiose declarations, but with a conscious decision to join the story.
I was reminded of all this when I heard about the attack in France on a kosher Jewish supermarket. When I heard our Israeli cries of "Immigrate to Israel!" I was reminded that not only do we have something to teach them, they also have something to teach us.
In this week's Torah, Torah "Vara," the ten plagues begin. The historical process of the Exodus from Egypt begins. And amidst all the drama, a verse with the following information: "And Moses was eighty years old and Aaron was eighty-three years old when they spoke to Pharaoh.".
In a week when Netanyahu, Lieberman, and Kahlon were still looking for young stars and when the parties also boasted new lists — Moshe and Aharon remind us that there is value in longevity, accumulated experience, and the wisdom that comes with time.
""The Israelites in the parsha do not listen to Moses 'out of despondency and hard labor.' Because of slavery, they do not listen or pay attention to the good news of redemption. A generation in a depressed and humiliated state does not grasp what is said to it: neither the words of comfort for the near future, nor the words of glory for the distant future" (Prof. Nechama Leibowitz)
• The column is published in Yedioth Ahronoth