Obama. Dance the Hora
Photo: AP
WASHINGTON – Reports that Israelis do not like Obama and believe that he is an enemy of the state have been piling up on the US president’s table. He thought for a moment, called a well-known Washington rabbi, and invited him for a face-to-face meeting.
“What should I do to make the hatred dissipate?” the president asked. “I stated that I’m committed to Israel’s
security at least 10 times. I did not cut down the military aid to Israel by even one cent. I pledged not to allow Iran to acquire a nuclear bomb. I learned to say “good evening” and “thank you very much” in Hebrew. I even said that my name in Hebrew is Baruch. What else do they want from me?”
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The rabbi came prepared. He slowly opened a box stuffed in his bag, pulled out the tefillin, and quickly started to tie the straps around the president’s arm.
“No, I’m not checking your blood pressure,” the rabbi explained. “From now on, do this every morning before the daily briefing by members of the National Security Council. It’s no big deal.”
The president appeared amused. “That’s it? This will change Israel’s public opinion?”
“There are a few more tiny things,” the rabbi responded. “I heard that you are renovating your living quarters,” he whispered. “Add another bed to your bedroom.”
The president was visibly embarrassed. “Another bed? What for?”
The rabbi responded: “When the photographers come to shoot the renovation work, tell them that Michelle sleeps on this bed when she menstruates, in line with the Jewish Niddah custom.”
The president responded: “?????”
Yet the rabbi quickly assured him: “It’s not that terrible, only a few days each month."
“If that’s all, I’m willing to try it,” the president said.
However, the rabbi was not done yet. “In addition, summon David Axelrod and Rahm Emanuel once a week and review a Gemara page together. Learn a little yiddishkeit from them. And if you don’t mind, don’t order cheeseburgers when you eat out. Go for a regular hamburger without cheese. It’s healthier.”
“Your honor, the rabbi,” Obama said. “I’m the president of the United States. I have the power to send troops to Afghanistan, the economy is in crisis here, and then there’s Iran’s uranium. And we haven’t even mentioned the healthcare issue.”
However, the rabbi insisted: “Mr. President, try it for only one year, and you’ll see the amazing things that will happen.”
A year passed, and Obama again summoned the rabbi. This time the president was no longer smiling.
“I did everything you said and more,” he uttered. “I brought a kashrut supervisor to the White House. I placed all volumes of the Talmud in the Oval Office’s library. Michelle even accepted the small extra bed with understanding. And what happened? Here are the polls. Still, only four percent of Israelis think I’m a good president.”
The rabbi sat back in his chair. “Of course. You did all that for the Jews,” he said. “Now, you need to start appeasing the Israelis.”
“I’m not about to dedicate one more year to appeasing the Israelis,” said Obama, and started to walk his guest to the door.
“With the Israelis it will be much quicker,” the rabbi said. “You just need to wink to them. George W. Bush was great at doing it. A wink here, a wink there, and he became one of the guys. And most importantly, tell them all the time: I love you, I’m embracing you, and you’re the greatest. If possible, pat Bibi’s head when he forces you to meet him. Eat hummus with him and you’ll see that you’ll be able to cut a deal with him.”
The rabbi left, and Obama slammed his head against the wall. “Why didn’t I think of it earlier?” he muttered to himself. “On my next date with Michelle, I’m taking her out to dance the Hora.”