To Vote or not To Vote

To vote or not to vote, that is the question.

As an Israeli citizen, why should I vote, or not, in this upcoming election that will be decisive for the history of the State? To do so, I would have to travel to Israel. There are several reasons for my choice of not voting, both circumstantial and ideological.

Israel has already had a round of “decisive elections”, as these are labeled, between April 2019 and March 2021, and a fifth one in November 2022. I do not remember the dilemma of “flying in to vote” existing then, although I assume many will cite the pandemic as the reason.

In any case, in 2022 the goal was to “save” a sui generis government led by Bennett and Lapid: there was no longer a pandemic. I do not know whether anyone called on people to travel to vote; their defeat at the hands of Netanyahu and his ‘full-right’ was conclusive.

Ergo, “a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.” In-house votes are worth more than votes “on temporary admission.”

I admit, however, that in 2022 few could imagine the disaster that was looming, although some predicted it in the finest Jewish prophetic tradition: crying out alone in the wilderness. Despite my disbelief, and much to my regret, I had to acknowledge that those warnings were true. No one imagined #Oct7. No one foresaw the tragedy, the trauma, and the three years of attrition. That is why the option of traveling to vote is now on the table. An option I respect.

Precisely because of that respect, I will explain why I have chosen not to do so.

One reason is deeply personal. Forty-five years ago, I made a choice: I left Israel, where I had graduated from Tel Aviv University, and returned to Uruguay. I did not serve in the IDF, I did not take part in the First Lebanon War (it would have been “my” war), I was not there when the Scud missiles fell from Iraq, I was not there when Rabin was assassinated, nor was I there during the 2nd Intifada.

I never voted. I exercised my civil rights as a Uruguayan citizen, not as an Israeli citizen; just as I pay my taxes in Uruguay, not in Israel. I am Uruguayan and Israeli, like many that hold two citizenships, but I choose to be only one at a time.

I have lived my life, raised my family, and became an adult in Uruguay. I love Israel, I return all the time, it is “the home I do not inhabit”; but I feel that it would not be fair for me to influence an election precisely because I do not live there. If further clarification is required, I hold the same position regarding Uruguay, which also has no shortage of a diaspora.

One lives one’s life according to the choices one makes. Some are wiser than other; some turn out better than others do. Some come at a high price, while others give us a better life. The only valid choices are those we actually make; those that were merely options belong to the realm of fantasy. Life, like History, is told only through facts.

In my parents’ time, and before, decisions had to be made for good. I have often told my children that it is not possible to live in one place and expect that we can also live in another, almost simultaneously. The fact that travel is easier and faster (although still expensive) does not change geography or time. I do not live in Israel; I live in Uruguay. I cannot pretend otherwise. It would not be honest with myself, with those I love, and much less with my fellow citizens, here and there.

Finally, I want to acknowledge and thank the many people who have been concerned about how these past three years of Israel’s history have affected me. Quite a few, including some very close to me, have suggested that I travel either as a volunteer in one of the programs Israel offers or, now, exercise my right to vote.

Regarding the first point, I will only say that I do not believe in “trauma tours”; as for voting, my personal position has been sufficiently explained. What may be worth emphasizing is the volunteer work I have done from the place I do inhabit. That amounts to thirty consecutive years supporting the causes in which I believe, carrying projects through, and exposing ideas. One can always do more, but I do not feel in debt either to Israel or to the Jewish people.

In short: even if I could, I would not travel to vote in Israel. However closely I may follow the elections.

The other reason for my choice is that I believe those who live there should determine the destiny of countries. That means working, paying taxes, and being a user of the state, its infrastructure, its benefits, and its bureaucracy. Citizenship may be more or less easy to obtain, but that alone does not suffice as grounds for voting in the country that granted its citizenship to us. Certain citizenships may be a gateway to opportunities, but that does not mean having a say in the electoral destiny of the country that granted them. Unless, of course, one decides to live there.

Israel has a Basic Law (equivalent to a Constitution) called the “Law of Return”: any Jew who can prove their Jewish status (a grandchild of a Jewish grandparent) and decides to live in Israel immediately becomes an Israeli citizen. They can vote immediately. There are quite a few of us Israeli citizens around the world. Perhaps it might be possible to secure a seat in the Knesset if forty-one thousand Israelis travel to vote on October 27. It is possible.

Let us imagine another scenario: say a million Jews decide to immigrate to Israel (“make aliyah”), become citizens, eventually return to their countries of origin, and vote every time there is an election in Israel (which can happen very frequently). How would those citizens who do not live there tip the balance? Would this not be a manipulative resource? Would the average Zionist American Jew, for example, not vote more leniently on security issues, given their obsession with the Palestinian question? Would the fanatical and chauvinistic Jew in any country around the world not contribute to a less democratic Israel? These are only hypotheses.

Israel is a democracy that works. That is what we are defending today. Even those of us who choose not vote.

I am almost seventy years old, and of those years, I lived only seven in Israel. I am proud to be a “sabra,” to be Israeli, to have graduated from an Israeli university, speak fluent Hebrew, and to have in Israel some of my closest relatives and dear friends scattered throughout the country. It is a land I love, inhabited by a people that challenge me every day, especially recently, through its electoral decisions.

They are the ones, who hold the country’s destiny in their hands, because they are the ones who pay the price, they are the ones who send their children to war. Not my children, but theirs. Like it or not, my vote does not carry the same weight.

Meanwhile, I will continue to fight my own “battles” from this other state of Jewish being, the Diaspora. It has not disappeared; if anything, it must become ever more Zionist and more responsible. Even if we do not vote in Israel, our destiny as a people is one, and we are bound together forever.

If the Third Temple were to fall, I doubt postmodernity would grant us another two thousand years of grace.