Democracy, Israeli Style: Bring Patience and a Steady Hand

So yes, I’m one of those people. I flew to Israel to vote for the first time in more than 35 years.

I’ve always believed that if you don’t live in a country, you shouldn’t vote in its elections. But this year felt different. The stakes, as I saw them, were too high. I wanted to do my part to help preserve the Israel I believe in and support. There was another, more personal reason, too: now that I have the time and the desire, I want to spend more time in Israel and become more involved in its future.

I have little recollection of what voting was like all those years ago, but I can tell you that the current system is beyond antiquated. It hardly seems consistent with the capabilities of the country known as the Startup Nation.

I stood in a line that barely moved for close to an hour. Once I finally made it into the room, I understood why: only one person can vote at a time.

And by vote, I mean finding your chosen party’s name on a slip of paper that is thinner than a Post-it note from among 38 different slips. Then one inserts the selected slip into an envelope and, without bending the paper, slips the envelope into an extremely narrow slot in a ballot box.

I had been warned repeatedly: bend or fold the slip and your vote could be invalidated. I hadn’t flown all that way, and invested in this trip only to slip up at the last minute!

But it wasn’t easy. Especially when you’re trying to maneuver an envelope into a tiny opening while a line of people watches your every move. You can practically feel them judging your dexterity. Intimidating? Just a bit.

And I had come prepared.

I’d been reading the news, listening to pundits, and trying to understand the Israeli parliamentary system as thoroughly as any reasonably informed voter could. I arrived knowing exactly which party I intended to vote for.

Or so I thought.

That very morning, I discovered that the party’s name that was the one I knew and recognized was not the name in big, bold font on the top of the ballot slip.  It was in the smaller print below it. Why? Wouldn’t it make sense to use the name by which the party is commonly known, or at least make it easy to identify?

Thankfully, a friend had tipped me off before I went to vote. But what if I hadn’t known? I would have had to sift through all 38 slips to find the one I wanted. That could take a while, particularly if you were unfamiliar with the system. And with a line of impatient voters waiting behind you, the pressure to hurry would hardly make the process any easier.

But now for the pièce de résistance.

This is entirely anecdotal, mind you, and I have absolutely no evidence to support my theory. Still, I couldn’t help noticing that some party slips seemed to have noticeably fewer copies remaining than others.

Could the number of slips in each pile offer a clue about how many people had voted for that party? In other words, could a depleted pile be an early, unofficial indicator of voter preference?

If my hypothesis holds any water, Eisenkot did pretty well in Ramat Gan!

Of course, I could be completely wrong. Perhaps the piles were replenished unevenly, or perhaps there’s some other explanation. But when you’re standing in line for an hour, you have plenty of time to observe, speculate, and develop your own theories about Israeli politics.

And now, we wait for the results.

I hope the outcome will provide the stability and leadership this country so desperately needs. Having made the effort to participate in this democracy, I can only hope that both the system and the people elected through it will deliver. I want to have a greater voice in the future of a country I believe in and care deeply about.