Did Ben Gurion Have a Dictatorial Urge?
Here's the second, and probably last, installment about the efforts to have Israelis use "Hebrew names" instead of "Diaspora names." It's also about the limits of the power of government, of integration policies, and probably another few things. Citizens corresponding with Ben Gurion often got more than they'd expected.
On April 30, 1961, Prof. Allon Talmi (a good Hebrew name, that) wrote to Ben Gurion (previous name: Gryn) with a suggestion that the government pay 10 Lira to each individual who gets rid of their non-Hebrew name for a Hebrew one.
So far as I know, diplomats in Israel's foreign service are encouraged till this very day to have Hebrew-sounding names, or at least they were until recently. Some don't - Avigdor Lieberman, for example, to name a recent prominent diplomat. The rest of us are left alone with whatever name we happen to have around. Someday someone should try to figure out which names were more likely to have been jettisoned, the Ashkenazi or the Sephardi ones.
On April 30, 1961, Prof. Allon Talmi (a good Hebrew name, that) wrote to Ben Gurion (previous name: Gryn) with a suggestion that the government pay 10 Lira to each individual who gets rid of their non-Hebrew name for a Hebrew one.
The sum, the rough equivalent of a day's wages for many people, wouldn't entice the well-off, but might be a consideration for many. When he, Talmi, used to be the manager of a large section in a chemical company and he offered an unofficial day off for anyone who changed their name, you'd be surprised how many did so. The government could explain that the sum is to cover the hassle of the name-changing. How many people would likely accept? 100,000 at most? Isn't the investment of 1,000,000 Lira in promoting national unity worth it?Ben Gurion replied on May 7:
I liked your idea. Indeed, all these German and Slavic names detract from the Jewishness of the nation. It was also a fine thing you did at that factory. But a government can't do things like that. The government should pass a law that everyone should have Hebrew names.To which Talmi then replied:
Thank you for answering.Parallel to the correspondence, Tikva Issacharoff, a secretary in Ben Gurion's office, had sent a couple of notes to Talmi, along the lines of "he'll get back to you shortly." Issacharoff, of course, isn't any more a Hebrew name than, say, Abramowitz, yet there she was, sitting down the hall from Ben Gurion, signing letters with her unkosher name. This may have been because Ben Gurion wasn't being irked by Sephardi names, only "German and Slavic" ones. (A distinction Talmi doesn't seem to have been making). Or perhaps he grumbled but saw the limits of his power - that by 1961 he'd been in power for more than a decade and had never passed that law he was wishing for.
I don't think the government can force people to change their names. It would be unpopular, and give credence to the claim that you've got dictatorial tendencies. The government needs to force people to do things that are essential for the economy and security, but in spite of my dislike of foreign names, I don't think they affect the national security.
So far as I know, diplomats in Israel's foreign service are encouraged till this very day to have Hebrew-sounding names, or at least they were until recently. Some don't - Avigdor Lieberman, for example, to name a recent prominent diplomat. The rest of us are left alone with whatever name we happen to have around. Someday someone should try to figure out which names were more likely to have been jettisoned, the Ashkenazi or the Sephardi ones.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Building a Coalition is Complicated
Non-Israeli observers of the Israeli political scene can be forgiven for the ocassional twinge of befuddlement over the workings of our system. Any democracy has its unique foibles (think: electoral college), but the Israeli system, committed as it is to near-total adherence to representation for all minor sub-groups and splinter-groups within them, can be a bit challenging for outsiders.
One aspect of this is that election results aren't a particularly good indicator of what the government coalition will look like. Once the division of MKs according to the election results is known, the president chooses one of them--often, but not always, the leader of the party with the largest representation in the Knesset--and only then do the negotiations begin. The goal of the appointee is to cobble together a configuration of parties or parts of parties with a total of at least 61 of the 120 MKs to vote him or her into office. Usually this works, though as a general rule it happens only after exhausting the entire period granted by law, 42 days; sometime it doesn't. At different times, David Ben Gurion, Shimon Peres and Tzipi Livni all got the nod from the president, but failed to round up 61 votes.
The chief dynamic at the moment, as Binyamin Netanyahu tries to form a coalition from among the 12 lists which made it into the new Knesset (they are made of 15 parties, but let's not get into that), is that the second largest, Yesh Atid, and the fourth largest (Habayit Hayehudi)--with 31 MKs between them--have banded together as a negotiating bloc facing Netanyahu's Likud-Beiteinu, which also has 31. Effectively, even if not nominally, this means that no coalition is possible without both of them being in it, and the first bloc is apparently driving a hard bargain with the second.
This is not the first time this has happened. That would have been in 1961.
Back in August 1961, the election results were disappointing for Ben Gurion's Mapai party, which garnered only 42 MKs (a pipe dream for any party today), and along with 4 automatic Arab allies had 46. So four smaller parties, not all of them obvious allies, banded together, calling themselves the Club of Four, and they too had 46 votes. Deadlock. Ben Gurion looked at the situation and threw in his hat, so the president, Yitzhak Ben Zvi, appointed Levi Eshkol, also of Mapai, to give it a try. In those days, unlike today, the MK forming the coalition could choose not to be the prime minister. We've posted some of the documents from those high-wire-act dayson our Hebrew website. Finally, more or less at the last moment, Eshkol returned to Ben Zvi with the announcement that he'd succeeded. With lots of patience and adroit negotiating, he had managed to break up the Club of Four, bring two of them into the coalition but on his own terms, and leaving two of them out in the opposition.
All of which just goes to show that positions staked with great confidence early on in the coalitional negotiations can end up unscathed, or modified, or totally abandoned. The problem is, you don't know in advance which it will be, nor do the negotiators.
One aspect of this is that election results aren't a particularly good indicator of what the government coalition will look like. Once the division of MKs according to the election results is known, the president chooses one of them--often, but not always, the leader of the party with the largest representation in the Knesset--and only then do the negotiations begin. The goal of the appointee is to cobble together a configuration of parties or parts of parties with a total of at least 61 of the 120 MKs to vote him or her into office. Usually this works, though as a general rule it happens only after exhausting the entire period granted by law, 42 days; sometime it doesn't. At different times, David Ben Gurion, Shimon Peres and Tzipi Livni all got the nod from the president, but failed to round up 61 votes.
The chief dynamic at the moment, as Binyamin Netanyahu tries to form a coalition from among the 12 lists which made it into the new Knesset (they are made of 15 parties, but let's not get into that), is that the second largest, Yesh Atid, and the fourth largest (Habayit Hayehudi)--with 31 MKs between them--have banded together as a negotiating bloc facing Netanyahu's Likud-Beiteinu, which also has 31. Effectively, even if not nominally, this means that no coalition is possible without both of them being in it, and the first bloc is apparently driving a hard bargain with the second.
This is not the first time this has happened. That would have been in 1961.
Back in August 1961, the election results were disappointing for Ben Gurion's Mapai party, which garnered only 42 MKs (a pipe dream for any party today), and along with 4 automatic Arab allies had 46. So four smaller parties, not all of them obvious allies, banded together, calling themselves the Club of Four, and they too had 46 votes. Deadlock. Ben Gurion looked at the situation and threw in his hat, so the president, Yitzhak Ben Zvi, appointed Levi Eshkol, also of Mapai, to give it a try. In those days, unlike today, the MK forming the coalition could choose not to be the prime minister. We've posted some of the documents from those high-wire-act dayson our Hebrew website. Finally, more or less at the last moment, Eshkol returned to Ben Zvi with the announcement that he'd succeeded. With lots of patience and adroit negotiating, he had managed to break up the Club of Four, bring two of them into the coalition but on his own terms, and leaving two of them out in the opposition.
All of which just goes to show that positions staked with great confidence early on in the coalitional negotiations can end up unscathed, or modified, or totally abandoned. The problem is, you don't know in advance which it will be, nor do the negotiators.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Does History Repeat Itself? Eshkol Forms a Government, 1961
Last Saturday night, the president of Israel, Shimon Peres, asked the prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu to form a government. However, the situation resulting from the elections to the 19th Knesset last month is a complex one. The combined ruling party, Likud-Yisrael Beitenu, remains the largest single party, but according to media reports, two of its possible coalition partners, Yesh Atid and Bayit Yehudi, are planning to coordinate their stand during the coalition negotiations. Together, they have the same number of seats as Likud-Yisrael Beitenu--31--and could make things difficult.
This latest episode of political "musical chairs" reminds us at the ISA of one of the most interesting stories in the history of Israel's coalition jigsaw: how Finance Minister Levi Eshkol set up a government for Ben-Gurion in 1961. The elections of August 1961 were called as a result of a political crisis arising from the "Lavon Affair" and the campaign of Prime Minister Ben-Gurion against Histadrut secretary general Pinchas Lavon. The crisis weakened the ruling party, Mapai, which lost 5 seats, and had only 42 members, or 46 with the satellite Arab parties. Four of its rivals – the Liberals, the National Religious party, and left-wing Mapam and Ahdut Ha'avoda formed a bloc, "The Club of Four," which also had 46 seats. They demanded that Mapai give them equal status and the same number of ministerial posts as a condition for joining the coalition. Since 1949, Mapai had always had a majority in the government.
On September 5, President Izhak Ben-Zvi started consultations with the parties which were to recommend a candidate to form the government. Mapai naturally recommended Ben-Gurion. The right-wing Herut party which had 17 seats, the same as the Liberals, asked Ben-Zvi not to allow Ben-Gurion to delay. If he did, they should be given a chance. In theory, the Club of Four could have asked Herut to join them and formed a coalition of 63. Herut's leader, Menachem Begin saw an opportunity to remove Mapai from power. In a letter from October 1961, he urged that any citizen who wanted to change the government should ask the four parties to join with Herut. But in view of the deep differences between them there was no chance for such a scenario.
On September 6, Ben-Zvi asked Ben-Gurion to form a government, but the following day he returned the mandate. "I regret to say that in the present circumstances I cannot take upon myself to form a government," he wrote. Levi Eshkol, a rising force in the party, took over, and laboriously, over six weeks managed first to obtain the support of two more MKs, from the religious Poalei Aguda party, and then to wear down and dismantle the Club of Four, assuring Mapai of a majority in a coalition with the NRP and Ahdut Ha'avoda. Ben-Gurion was dubious about these moves because he wanted the Liberals in the coalition, and wrote to him later "I am full of admiration for your good will, your honest intentions, your devotion and patience, even when you are mistaken..."
Early in November, Eshkol finally reported to the president that he had formed a government headed by Ben-Gurion. "We brought the Club of Four on all fours…into the government," he added with a smile.
You can read more about Eshkol and the crisis of 1961 in the volume on Eshkol edited by Arnon Lammfromm and Hagai Tsoref in the Commemorative Series (in Hebrew) of the Archives, and in the volumes on Ben-Gurion, Ben-Zvi and Moshe Sharett.
The politicians and the gnomes in the Finance Ministry all agreed that the president ought to have the highest salary among the civil servants, what with his being the highest ranking among them. The thing is, Ben Zvi himself had other opinions. Between his taking the job in 1952 and 1962 he ran a successful campaign not to allow his salary to rise. In the early 50s he explained that the country was in dire straights, with hundreds of thousands of new immigrants living in tent cities and the economy groaning under the many burdens of creating a functioning state. By the early 1960s, however, the refugees had mostly been housed and the economy was booming. Ben Zvi still felt that the challenges facing the state were enormous, and still hoped to inspire others to live frugally. Yet if in 1952 his salary had already slipped below that of the Chief Justice, by 1962 it was 40% less than that of his own chauffeur. The Knesset members who had grudgingly humored him for a decade felt he was abusing his office, and took advantage of a trip he was sent on to Africa to triple (!) his salary and legislate it into the general budget so that he couldn't browbeat them to change their mind.
Here's his response, in a letter of December 31st 1962 ot Israel Gouri, the head of the Finance Committee of the Knesset.
This latest episode of political "musical chairs" reminds us at the ISA of one of the most interesting stories in the history of Israel's coalition jigsaw: how Finance Minister Levi Eshkol set up a government for Ben-Gurion in 1961. The elections of August 1961 were called as a result of a political crisis arising from the "Lavon Affair" and the campaign of Prime Minister Ben-Gurion against Histadrut secretary general Pinchas Lavon. The crisis weakened the ruling party, Mapai, which lost 5 seats, and had only 42 members, or 46 with the satellite Arab parties. Four of its rivals – the Liberals, the National Religious party, and left-wing Mapam and Ahdut Ha'avoda formed a bloc, "The Club of Four," which also had 46 seats. They demanded that Mapai give them equal status and the same number of ministerial posts as a condition for joining the coalition. Since 1949, Mapai had always had a majority in the government.
On September 5, President Izhak Ben-Zvi started consultations with the parties which were to recommend a candidate to form the government. Mapai naturally recommended Ben-Gurion. The right-wing Herut party which had 17 seats, the same as the Liberals, asked Ben-Zvi not to allow Ben-Gurion to delay. If he did, they should be given a chance. In theory, the Club of Four could have asked Herut to join them and formed a coalition of 63. Herut's leader, Menachem Begin saw an opportunity to remove Mapai from power. In a letter from October 1961, he urged that any citizen who wanted to change the government should ask the four parties to join with Herut. But in view of the deep differences between them there was no chance for such a scenario.
On September 6, Ben-Zvi asked Ben-Gurion to form a government, but the following day he returned the mandate. "I regret to say that in the present circumstances I cannot take upon myself to form a government," he wrote. Levi Eshkol, a rising force in the party, took over, and laboriously, over six weeks managed first to obtain the support of two more MKs, from the religious Poalei Aguda party, and then to wear down and dismantle the Club of Four, assuring Mapai of a majority in a coalition with the NRP and Ahdut Ha'avoda. Ben-Gurion was dubious about these moves because he wanted the Liberals in the coalition, and wrote to him later "I am full of admiration for your good will, your honest intentions, your devotion and patience, even when you are mistaken..."
 |
| Eshkol explains to the president the formation of the government |
You can read more about Eshkol and the crisis of 1961 in the volume on Eshkol edited by Arnon Lammfromm and Hagai Tsoref in the Commemorative Series (in Hebrew) of the Archives, and in the volumes on Ben-Gurion, Ben-Zvi and Moshe Sharett.
President Ben Zvi Fights a Rising Salary
Izhak Ben-Zvi, Israel's second president, died 50 years ago this month. In his honor, we've put up a small collection of unusual documents about his salary. If you read Hebrew you really ought to follow the link and read the full story, which is both amusing and, how to put it, rather odd.
The politicians and the gnomes in the Finance Ministry all agreed that the president ought to have the highest salary among the civil servants, what with his being the highest ranking among them. The thing is, Ben Zvi himself had other opinions. Between his taking the job in 1952 and 1962 he ran a successful campaign not to allow his salary to rise. In the early 50s he explained that the country was in dire straights, with hundreds of thousands of new immigrants living in tent cities and the economy groaning under the many burdens of creating a functioning state. By the early 1960s, however, the refugees had mostly been housed and the economy was booming. Ben Zvi still felt that the challenges facing the state were enormous, and still hoped to inspire others to live frugally. Yet if in 1952 his salary had already slipped below that of the Chief Justice, by 1962 it was 40% less than that of his own chauffeur. The Knesset members who had grudgingly humored him for a decade felt he was abusing his office, and took advantage of a trip he was sent on to Africa to triple (!) his salary and legislate it into the general budget so that he couldn't browbeat them to change their mind.
Here's his response, in a letter of December 31st 1962 ot Israel Gouri, the head of the Finance Committee of the Knesset.
Since taking office I have been perturbed by the galloping rise in the standard of living, which I regard as a threat to our economic independence. It is my opinion that as long as we're faced by the double challenge of bringing Jews to Israel and facing the security threats we have, we must not raise the standard of living. Therefore I've been resisting the efforts to raise my salary, hoping to present a model for imitation, and I've explained this both officially and in personal meetings with you.
This year, sadly, the Knesset took advantage of my trip to Africa to raise my salary and legislate it into the budget. You recently explained the considerations, and I no longer feel I can resist them. However, I wish to inform you that I will use no more than half of the sum for my personal needs, and will donate the rest to a trust which will fund the preparation of ancient documents for use by researchers. (Was he thinking of the Aleppo Codex perhaps?)
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Supplying Matzot: Central Planning or Free Market?
Surely, you'd say to yourself, founding a Jewish state would ensure there'd never again be any problem of having enough kosher-for-Pesach stuff, first and foremost Matzot. Surely, you'd be wrong.
A recurring theme in Israel's early years was the lack of an adequate supply of Matzot for Passover. There are any number of files in the ISA with officials and politicians kvetching about how again there hadn't been enough to go all around and how could that possibly be?!
In 1962, for example, the general manager of the Ministry of Trade and Industry appointed a committee of three to figure out what had just gone wrong and make recommendations for 1963. It was headed by Y. Gal-Ad, his deputy, who was joined by two external experts; the committee also had talks with a parallel committee set up in the Tel Aviv Rabbinate. The comittee submitted its recommendations in September 1962 - except that its members hadn't managed to agree.
There were structural problems, such as the fact that Matzot are prepared under strict conditions in the few monsths before the holiday, but mostly purchased only in the final week; what isn't sold by the end of the holiday won't be sold at all. There were complex issues about estimating how much would be required, and these included knowing how much the population had grown in the past year, even while noticing that in 1961 Pesach had effectively been one day longer since it had ended on Friday, so Saturday (i.e. Shabbat) was also Pesach-like. There were administrative problems, such as that the rabbinate was not willing to permit working in three shifts. There was the problem with the rumors about how the matzot were running out and this caused hoarding at various parts of the supply chain.
The committee members did manage to agree that having a free market in which the prices were fixed from above didn't help. Clearly, the structure of the market needed to be changed - but how? The two outsiders recommended that as of 1963 the market be opened and allowed to do its own thing. Sooner or later that would have to happen, they said, and there's no purpose in further delay, even if it caused one additional season of confusion. Gal-Ad wasn't convinced, or perhaps, being an insider, he was apprehensive of the fallout should the issue reappear the following year.
Our file doesn't say what happened in 1963. Perhaps we'll go looking for the next file, next year.
A recurring theme in Israel's early years was the lack of an adequate supply of Matzot for Passover. There are any number of files in the ISA with officials and politicians kvetching about how again there hadn't been enough to go all around and how could that possibly be?!
In 1962, for example, the general manager of the Ministry of Trade and Industry appointed a committee of three to figure out what had just gone wrong and make recommendations for 1963. It was headed by Y. Gal-Ad, his deputy, who was joined by two external experts; the committee also had talks with a parallel committee set up in the Tel Aviv Rabbinate. The comittee submitted its recommendations in September 1962 - except that its members hadn't managed to agree.
There were structural problems, such as the fact that Matzot are prepared under strict conditions in the few monsths before the holiday, but mostly purchased only in the final week; what isn't sold by the end of the holiday won't be sold at all. There were complex issues about estimating how much would be required, and these included knowing how much the population had grown in the past year, even while noticing that in 1961 Pesach had effectively been one day longer since it had ended on Friday, so Saturday (i.e. Shabbat) was also Pesach-like. There were administrative problems, such as that the rabbinate was not willing to permit working in three shifts. There was the problem with the rumors about how the matzot were running out and this caused hoarding at various parts of the supply chain.
The committee members did manage to agree that having a free market in which the prices were fixed from above didn't help. Clearly, the structure of the market needed to be changed - but how? The two outsiders recommended that as of 1963 the market be opened and allowed to do its own thing. Sooner or later that would have to happen, they said, and there's no purpose in further delay, even if it caused one additional season of confusion. Gal-Ad wasn't convinced, or perhaps, being an insider, he was apprehensive of the fallout should the issue reappear the following year.
Our file doesn't say what happened in 1963. Perhaps we'll go looking for the next file, next year.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Ben Gurion Spars with a Voter
On March 27, 1962, a schoolgirl from the kibbutz of Nahal Oz in the northern Negev wrote to David Ben Gurion, then in the 13th year of his prime ministership. Her letter was a combination of gushing awe that she was writing to the prime minister, and budding criticism from a young citizen who demands answers from her leaders and isn't sure she's going to accept what she'll be told.
Ben Gurion responded within the week, on April 2nd 1962:
I am a member of the youth group of Nahal Oz. We are 35 kids. We're also the first youth group here. We've been here 5 months and feel great. Recently we decided to study the region in detail. Today our discussion reached the Bsor area, and a question arose in class: Why has this area been neglected? Are there plans to continue the development of the area? I'm writing to you because our teacher said you were a strong supporter of the development of our area. I hope someday to receive a response from you to this troublesome question, because we feel it's very important to develop the Negev. And we're in favor of more people coming here and developing the region. We would be very happy if you would come and visit us someday. We know that you must be very busy, and we don't wish to bother you. But we hope that someday you'll find the time and the moment to visit us. We wish for you that you live for many years, and that you be our prime minister in our land for all those years.You get the strong whiff of the irreverant political culture that was to develop in Israel.
Sincerely,
"The Oz Group"
Nahal Oz
The Negev
Ben Gurion responded within the week, on April 2nd 1962:
To the "Oz Group"
I recieved your unsigned letter of March 27th. I am very glad to hear there's a youth group at Nahal Oz and that you are happy there. You ask: why have we neglected the Bsor area? We haven't "neglected". The Negev is broad and wide (compared to the size of the country), and many years will be required for its development. Important things are happening there: Mitzpeh Ramon is being built, Arad is being planned, Eilat is growing, Dimona is expanding. Agricultural settlements are being nurtured in Yotvata, Ein Gedi, Sdeh Boker, Neot Hakikar and elsewhere. It's impossible to do everything at once.
If I can find the time I will gladly come and visit you, but I don't think this will happen in the coming months. I thank you for your nice letter, and next time sign your name to what you write.
In friendship,
D. Ben Gurion (no signature) (at least, not on the copy which remains in the file)
NO JEW HAS THE RIGHT TO GIVE UP
ReplyDelete(Eretz Yisrael) THE LAND OF ISRAEL
By David Ben Gurion
"No Jew has the right to yield the rights of the Jewish People in Israel. No Jew has the authority to do so. No Jewish body has the authority to do so. Not even the entire Jewish People alive today has the right to yield any part of Israel.
It is the right of the Jewish People over the generations, a right that under no conditions can be cancelled. Even if Jews during a specific period proclaim they are relinquishing this right, they have neither the power nor the authority to deny it to future generations. No concession of this type is binding or obligates the Jewish People.
Our right to the country - the entire country - exists as an eternal right, and we shall not yield this historic right until its full and complete redemption is realized."
This quotation of David Ben Gurion made at the Zionist Congress in Basel, Switzerland in 1937, more than 65 years ago.