1.
In the new book by former Prime Minister Ehud Olmert [in the first person, Yedioth Ahronoth Publishing House], this list - certainly partial - appears in the first hundred pages of the book, in contexts that are, to put it mildly, not very flattering:
Baruch Kara, Ilana Dayan, Tzipi Livni, Ehud Barak, Benjamin Netanyahu, Yoav Yitzhak, Micha Lindenstrauss, Moshe Lador, Shula Zaken, David Rosen, Meni Mazuz, Sivan Rahav Meir, Ari Shavit, Amos Schocken, Uri Messer, Yaron Zelicha, Uri Korev, Moti Gilat, Dudi Cohen, Sara Netanyahu, Amir Oren, Edna Arbel, Eli Abarbanel, Ruth David, Mishael Cheshin, Daniella Sharizli, Shlomi Ayalon.
Olmert is an impressive man, it is impossible to ignore this throughout reading his thick book [about 900 pages], but is he aware that a harsh attack on a broad and heterogeneous spectrum of public figures creates antagonism in the reasonable reader? Wasn't there someone who advised him that conciliatory conduct, Deri style from 2012 onwards, could return him to a more central place in Israeli public life?
What is the likelihood that after 100 pages of reading, the reader will say to himself: Well, Olmert is probably right, everyone, everyone for some reason harassed him?!
And perhaps the sentence that a wise man, who knew the man well when he was very close to Ariel Sharon, told me is true: "Olmert never gave up the opportunity to be right and not wise."
2.
Upon reading Olmert's thick book, 1,200 handwritten pages that he drafted in his cell in Ma'assiyahu Prison, I asked to read the criticism that was written about it.
An influential book, as we know, certainly one written by a man who worked at the most important and sensitive junctures in the State of Israel, from the Prime Minister's Office through the Ministry of Finance and the Jerusalem Mayor's Office, will attract quite a bit of criticism.
However, despite my attempts, I found almost no critical references to the book. When the book was published, excerpts from it were published in Yedioth Ahronoth and caused a stir, but to the best of my knowledge, no substantive and systematic criticism of the book, as is customary, has been written.
How can this be? In his book, Olmert makes serious claims that seemingly require a response.
Here are 3 important examples:
For quite a few pages, Olmert practically begs Moshe Ledor, the hated state attorney, to sue him:
"Moshe Lador is a criminal, a criminal and a liar... He must stand trial, or he will be forced to sue me for slandering him" [p. 52].
He writes an equally scathing text about then-State Comptroller Micha Lindenstrauss: "I reiterate that Lindenstrauss is a criminal who must stand trial" [p. 22].
In reference to the current Prime Minister's wife, Sara Netanyahu, Olmert employs a classic literary technique in which he tries to gain the reader's trust by revealing and covering up, as it were, secrets: "Since I approved her acceptance into the Jerusalem Municipality, and I know quite a bit about it, I prefer not to reveal embarrassing things. Suffice it to say that, fortunately for the children of Jerusalem, Mrs. Netanyahu hardly ever shows up for her work" [pp. 90-91].
These three quotes require consideration: How come none of these three individuals has sued Olmert? True, that's what he aspires to, but nevertheless, the move to the agenda where a former prime minister calls you a criminal, etc., is puzzling, to say the least.
3.
As I leaf through the pages of the book, which describes, to a certain extent, the history of our lives at many important crossroads, I look for the name of a man who was considered one of Olmert's closest friends for 35 years: Dan Margalit.
Margalit is an interesting figure, not only because of his closeness to the former prime minister, but because since 2007, I believe, this veteran and talented journalist has not stopped brutally bashing his former friend, calling him corrupt, a criminal, and demanding his death. In 2009, he even published a book called 'Disillusionment,' in which he describes 'disillusionment with close friend Olmert.'
Their relationship has fueled quite a few fascinating television programs [such as the beautiful confrontation with Amnon Dankner, or Barnea's column, which wondered about Margalit's medical miracle that he was not infected with any of the corruption germs - which he did not recognize - after decades of friendship with Olmert].
So what does Olmert himself say about this? How does he respond to the countless blows that Margalit has landed on him everywhere possible?
Well, in all 900 pages of the book, Dan Margalit is not mentioned even once. Not once.
Why? Was Olmert really not affected by his good friend's criticism, in the vein of Arik Einstein's statement that he once said about someone "whom I don't even ignore," or was this a calculated move in which he prefers to confront only certain journalists, but not his soulmate, with whom the rift is greater than a written text?
4.
It's both amusing and embarrassing to read in every autobiography about the good deeds of its author. It would be much better if someone else wrote the good deeds about the book's hero and not him/herself.
Olmert is no exception in this sense, but the feeling that emerges from these things is one of sadness and melancholy.
For example, Olmert talks about his visit with challah and cakes every Shabbat evening to the family home of the late Shmulik Meir, his beloved deputy in the Jerusalem Municipality, who was suddenly killed in a car accident and left behind 8 orphaned children [p. 470], or about Shula Tzemach, who lost her mother and was raised by them in foster care as a housewife until she asked to change her last name to Olmert [p. 354].
So why is it sad? Because I want and also believe that Olmert would prefer to leave these small actions in the dark.
True, we Israelis are characterized by boundless cynicism, and the "righteous stories" of prime ministers and their wives are often met with mockery and suspicion. Still, it seems that Olmert, just like Netanyahu, is ultimately a human being, and it is clear that incidents of this kind were not carried out by him for the sake of boasting or to present his human appearance to everyone.
But when you write a book in which you try to claim innocence in the face of a negative narrative that has already been accepted by the public, you have no choice but to also boast about good deeds, about the small events that make a person superior to the rest of the animals, and that is why their publication, which is almost a literary compulsion, is so sad.