Likud Knesset members don’t feel right now as if they belong to the party of power.
As a frustrated MK observed this week, when he meets members of other coalition parties in the parliamentary corridors, they already know what jobs they’ll have in cabinet or on key Knesset committees.
“I wish I was as well-informed as members of other parties about what my own party leader is doing.” Even the most senior Likudniks are still waiting to hear from Benjamin Netanyahu what post, if any, awaits them in his new government.
Unlike Britain, where a newly-elected prime minister starts appointing the cabinet the moment they get back from Buckingham Palace, a new Israeli prime minister must first build a coalition and take the demands of partner-parties into consideration.
That is always true when a government is formed in Jerusalem but this time around the period that has elapsed before the prime minister-designate is letting his own party know what’s in store for them is unprecedented.
Assuming Mr Netanyahu does finally swear in a government in the next couple of weeks — at the time of writing he had yet to inform President Herzog that he had succeeded in forming a coalition, despite the midnight deadline looming — it will be an Israeli government like no other.
It won’t be the first in which the main party of power did not have a majority within the coalition (there were a handful of those in the past) but it will be the first in which Likud has to deal with a bloc of parties which are to the right of it on all issues, with no centrist or centre-left party providing any balance or room for manoeuvre.
The partners are fully aware that Mr Netanyahu has no other coalition options and have used the time that has passed since the election to present him with long lists of demands.
In some cases, individual MKs, such as United Torah Judaism’s seven members, each representing different communities within the Charedi sector, have even negotiated separately with Likud’s team. Each have different rabbis with their pet issues and demands.
“We won’t prevent Netanyahu from forming his government, but we’ve dealt with him long enough to know that every single promise has to be spelled out, written and signed with clear assurances,” said one of the UTJ negotiators. “On the other hand, we’re pragmatic. There are things that are crucial for us, but it doesn’t necessarily matter how they’re delivered.”
He was referring to UTJ’s key demand that a law regulating the exemption of yeshiva students from military service finally be passed to their satisfaction. The problem with that law is that the Supreme Court has already ruled a similar version of it unconstitutional on equality grounds.
This was why UTJ was demanding an “override clause” that would allow the Knesset to countermand Supreme Court rulings. Such a clause would be seen as a major challenge to the judiciary — and Mr Netanyahu, who has his own issues in court, is wary.
“We don’t have to have an override clause if we can get the exemption passed in a different way,” said the UTJ negotiator. One way of doing that would be to pass a new “basic law” — which in lieu of a formal constitution would have a similar status.
A “basic law” would enshrine the special status of Torah scholars. But even if this can somehow open the path to the exemptions finally being on the books, it would cause a different problem in the coalition.
The Charedi parties may not be adamant on passing the “override clause” if they can get what they want by other methods but Religious Zionism is bent on reducing the powers of the Supreme Court, for ideological reasons. It was a major part of their election manifesto. They won’t look kindly on any deal on this matter. Mr Netanyahu will soon be back in the familiar prime minister’s office but his coalition headaches are far from over.
NEW TREND
Canny ambassadors realised a while ago that the traditional occupation of envoys to Israel — trying to get Israelis and Palestinians to make peace with each other — is a thankless task. With the peace process in deep stagnation, they’ve found other issues to get involved in.
A popular new pastime for diplomats is engaging with the Charedi community.
This week, on the second night of Chanukah, dozens of members of the community arrived at the residence of Britain’s ambassador in Ramat Gan (the ambassador himself was away on Christmas holiday) for a reception marking the launch of “MeGo” — a programme aimed at training 2,000 ultra-Orthodox men as programmers for Israeli tech companies.
The event wasn’t planned to coincide with the coalition negotiations, but in a week when the headlines were about Charedi parties demanding equal funding for strictly-Orthodox schools which refuse to teach a full curriculum of maths, English and sciences, a programme where men in their twenties have to first study these subjects, nearly from scratch, before getting on to the vocational training, felt almost subversive.
“With some of the students we really have to begin with the English alphabet and check they can do basic arithmetic,” said Uriel Shechter, one of the trainers.
Yossi Miller, a Slonim Chassid and father of two children, said he had decided to join the programme when it became clear to him that he was no longer going to be studying Torah all day and wanted to “make a decent living, which I can’t without any qualifications.” He admitted that many of his friends “have a mental obstacle” when it comes to seeking work outside the community.
When asked whether he wants his children to have the same education as he had, without learning secular subjects, he smiled: “Maybe they’ll choose for themselves.”
A senior adviser of one of the Haredi parties was also at the event. “Look, it’s obvious that we need many more in our community to have the qualifications to work in tech and this means also changes in our schools,” he said.
“But it won’t happen if we’re forced to do so by the government.
“The change will come from within, naturally.”