Little more than an act: Likud convention, Monday
Photo: AP
What would they think? Menachem Begin's Herut party
Photo: Government Press Office
Nothing more than a pagan rite
The lack of debate was the most worrying thing about the Likud convention
In the years before Israel's independence, and even for a few years after, Zionist parties were known (in part) for holding "general debates".
No debate
Attila Somfalvi
Likud official files complaint after unidentified vandals damage microphone during Likud Central Committee meeting Sunday; microphone troubles prompt Sharon to leave convention without delivering his speech
Over the years the phrase has become something of a joke, a hint of a conversation with no real meaning.
Even then, cynics degraded speeches by party activists and preferred doing to talking, but – at the risk of degrading the tendency towards nostalgia that beats in the hearts of people my age – those meetings were molded with a degree of important.
Representatives saved up their best thoughts to present to party members, and speeches were frequently quoted, and given weight usually reserved for important theater performances.
Speeches were reprinted in full in party newspapers, and historians are currently using those speeches to piece together the development of Zionist political life into parties and factions.
It was the precursor to the Likud that was particularly known for the respect and attention it gave to speakers, ceremonies, procedure and manners.
Ze'ev Jabotinsky, founder of the party, called the ethos "glorious."
In those days, in the days before formal public announcements, a leader could not stutter or be a dull speaker.
Even then, candidates showered the public with boring recommendations and suggestions, but the crowd listened and paid attention.
Those meetings would never have tolerated what the Central Committee did this week: a crucial party vote without hearing from one of the main players in the debate.
This sort of trickery – voting without allowing open debate about the issues at hand – is unheard of outside of one-party dictatorships.
This is the real dark message emanating from the Likud convention: not that the microphone cut out at the critical moment, whether by sabotage or coincidence, but that the Likud decided to hold a crucial vote without hearing from one of the major players in the debate.
That we have reconciled ourselves to this bastardization of democracy can only be explained by the pointless nature of the debate.
It doesn't matter if the prime minister spoke or was even there, because his words and those of his challengers had no meaning whatsoever.
The opportunity to address the party was little more than an act, designed to create the impression of substantial debate.
It should have been a type of "forum" - a marketplace of ideas in which candidates present their ideas to free men.
But this convention was little more than a pagan ceremony, replete with praises, blind dancing and magic slogans ("Don't bring down the house", "The true path of the Likud", "Jerusalem won't be divided").
The 3,000 members of the Likud Central Committee gathered, not to debate crucial matters, to hear and consider the relative value of two competing ideas and political camps, to persuade and be persuaded, but rather to demonstrate their political power, brutal and uncouth, corrupt and crooked, emotional and illogical.
All attempts to get committee members to speak substantially about the ideas they were peddling, about the ideologies they were asking party members, to support were met with abject failure.
The polite reporters among them didn't even ask. They knew they would just get meaningless jibberish.
This is the face of a frightening phenomenon: it has taken the meaning out of Likud conventions.
It couldn't be any worse than this, so there is still room for hope. After all, would it not be worthwhile to take comfort this Rosh Hashana?
