LOOKING AROUND : Learn from the Russians

By Barbara Sofer
Feb. 13, 2003

The recent disbanding of Yisrael B'Aliya elicited regret in an unusual quarter: among English-speaking immigrants. Why would a Russian immigrant party suddenly appeal to a large number of English-speaking Israelis, many of whom have lived in this country for decades??
Not because of the party platform. The Yisrael B'Aliya voters I talked to didn't seem to know or care that Natan Sharansky strongly supported settlement growth, or that he'd walked out of the government because of Camp David. Had they only been looking for a party that would elbow Prime Minister Ariel Sharon to the Right, they could have found a surer home in any of the three parties that compose the National Union. Yisrael B'Aliya won the support of English-speakers in recent months because the party representatives seemed interested not just in preaching to so-called "Anglos," but to listening to and representing the interests of this group of 200,000 Israelis.
Long ago, my Moscow-born cousin Michael, of blessed memory, and I were both graduate students at The Hebrew University. Once, about to make one of the endless cups of coffee over which we compared our pasts, Michael was puzzled that I was changing what seemed like a perfectly clean tablecloth. I explained about milk tablecloths and meat tablecloths, and the rules of kashrut.
"Now you know what it's like to be Jewish," I teased him. He shook his head; "No. When I was insulted on the street, I knew what it meant to be a Jew. That, you never knew."
He was right, of course. Michael was amused that he, who had quoted Father Lenin in campus speeches in Moscow, had arrived in Israel with far more developed capitalist business skills than I had. If Michael were alive today, I'm sure he would feel the same way about the success of former Soviet citizens in creating political parties while their American and British cousins have been unsuccessful at penetrating the Israeli political system.
Like most immigrant groups, Anglos have their complaints. English-speaking Israelis are subjected to a blend of condescension and rudeness from our fellow Israelis. Plumbers and taxi drivers routinely try to price gouge us, and our accents are mimicked by supposed high brows who would never consider mocking the accents of other ethnic groups.
A New York-born friend with perfect Hebrew has been living in Israel for 30 years. Heading an international institute, he lectures all around the world as an Israeli. "But in Israel, no matter how long we're here, an American remains 'the American,'" he says, not without a sigh of resignation. But when it is the government of Israel, not your plumber, treating you with contempt, that is time to take action. When the tax reform law which revoked promises made to Western immigrants and levied taxes on passive overseas income was first proposed several years ago, rumors circulated in Jerusalem that the prime movers had admitted they were out to get Anglos, particularly those who had retired here and were living "with such ease and pleasure." The law felt vindictive.
THE ANGER and resentment of English-speaking immigrants about the tax law was never just about money. Only the rare American, British, Australian, or South African-born immigrant is earning the salary he or she would have expected in his home country. Nearly all Anglos have taken pay cuts for the sake of Zion. Those of us working here are already paying among the heaviest taxes in the world, particularly those of us who live in cities like Jerusalem, where we subsidize the poor through heavy city taxes. English-speaking immigrants felt entitled to that little bit of special consideration. After all, we required fewer of the state-sponsored supports provided for other immigrants. Most of us arrived with expensive educations, and were resourceful enough to make a quick turnaround from absorption center into communities and jobs. The only area where we are disabled is language learning, and there were no campaigns to help Hebrew-challenged Anglo professionals.
Few aliya emissaries realize that an important issue which discourages aliya from Western democracies is the fear of living under a capricious, untrustworthy government. Faced with such a government decision, Anglos found themselves politically impotent, without a congressman to call, which made the tax bill seem even worse.
I know industrious, charitable immigrants who have actually picked up and gone back to their home communities over the tax reform law. Back in the US, they will doubtlessly be courted by a full range of Israeli politicians, all of whom adore Americans in America. But Anglos living here are invisible to most political parties.
Effi Eitam, head of the NRP where many of the newest immigrants could find their place, apologized to potential voters, admitting that he had not realized how important this bill was to his constituents. Along came Israel B'Aliya, empathetic, experienced and politically adept. For all the satisfaction of being heard, there was something deeply disappointing, something akin to failure, for long-time Israelis to find themselves in an immigrant party.
So where does that Anglo-Israeli voice go now that Yisrael B'Aliya is gone?
Our numbers are not impressive. The old cliche that a million English-speaking immigrants should make aliya sounds silly at a time when we can't even get a million tourists to visit Israel.
Nonetheless, back in the countries of our birth, we always knew that although we did not have the vast numbers of other ethnic groups, we were not powerless. Here we can do better at making our presence count. Of the estimated 200,000 English-speaking Israelis, less than half are eligible to vote. That's a problem.
Those of us who do vote should follow the latest example of Sharansky, Edelstein and Solodkin: join existing political parties. All 80,000 of us with voting privileges. Becoming a party member in Israel is easy, inexpensive and not even time-consuming. You do not have to know anyone. You are not even committed to vote for the party you belong to.
When you belong to a political party you get invited to events that let you hobnob with the politicians. When you phone their Knesset offices with suggestions or complaints, you can introduce yourself as "a member of the party" and get more attention. When every other person calling the Knesset has an Anglo accent, someone is going to pay attention.