 |
Natan Sharansky is a former Soviet prisoner of Zion and founder of the Yisrael Ba'aliya party. He currently serves as Minister of Jerusalem and Diaspora Affairs.
|
|
|
|
By Natan Sharansky
August 6, 2002
Reprinted with permission from the Jerusalem Post.
The Tal bill that passed last week in the Knesset has long been at the center of a furious national debate. Supporters of the bill claim that by paving the way for widespread Haredi participation in the workforce, the law is a step forward.
Opponents, myself included, argue that the benefits of the bill could be achieved without exempting de jure all yeshiva students from army service, and thereby perverting the principle of equality. But regardless of one's point of view, there is something on which everyone agrees: The law has enormous implications for the future development of Israeli society.
One would think that such a critical law would have been handled by our political system with the utmost consideration. Unfortunately, a look at the history of the bill proves otherwise.
Before the 1999 elections, Ehud Barak promised to "draft everyone" if elected. But when the election-day dust settled, he realized that his landslide victory in the race for prime minister did not translate into massive support for him in the Knesset. Instead, he had to choose between forming a coalition with the Likud or with Shas.
Believing that a partnership with the Likud would prevent him from continuing with the peace process, he chose Shas. The price of the party's admission into the government was not cheap. Among other things, Shas demanded that Barak renege on his draft promise. With his eyes firmly focused on "ending the conflict" with the Palestinians within 18 months, the prime minister conceded to the demands of Shas and established the Tal Committee in order to arrive at a "solution" to the draft question.
A year later, the committee's proposals were formulated into a bill. Wanting to ensure that the government would not be crippled before his fateful trip to Camp David, Barak agreed to Shas's demand to pass the bill on its first reading. Thus, the man and party that had promised to draft all the Haredim voted for a bill exempting them from the draft. After the failure of Camp David and facing the prospect of early elections, Barak tried to reverse his fading political fortunes by declaring a "secular revolution." One of the first acts of this revolution was to freeze the Tal Law, effectively preventing a second and third reading of the bill.
But a few weeks later, Barak was convinced that another summit meeting with Yasser Arafat was in the offing. Fearing that his government would not survive to reach the summit, he authorized Yossi Beilin to make a deal with Shas that provided him with a three-week "safety net" in return for freezing the secular revolution and unfreezing the Tal Law.
Last week the Tal Law was passed in the Knesset. A Labor Party that had initially voted for the bill when it needed Shas was suddenly struck by pangs of conscience. For his part, Ariel Sharon, who as opposition leader during the first reading had given an impassioned speech explaining why his conscience would not allow him to support the bill, now mounted the podium as prime minister, declared his support with a "heavy heart," and enforced party discipline on his Likud colleagues to ensure passage of the bill.
In the back rooms of the Knesset, Likud members who were forced to vote for a bill they did not support were rationalizing Sharon's about-face. Because the election system had changed back to a one-party ballot, they argued, the Likud might need the support of ultra-Orthodox parties to form a coalition government and retain the premiership.
I recount this history only to highlight the absurdity of an Israeli political process in which a bill that supporters and opponents alike agree will fundamentally transform Israeli society can be constantly subordinated to other political considerations. Rather than consider the Tal bill on its own merits, after a thorough debate and a careful consideration of its impact on Israeli society, the law's fate was determined purely by political expedience.
This situation cannot continue.
Since Yisrael Ba'aliya was founded in 1996, the party's charter has called for the passage of a National Referendum Law. The rationale behind such a law is to ensure that any bill that can potentially transform the character of Israeli society from large territorial concessions to changing the Law of Return to resolving certain questions of state and religion be decided by a direct vote of the Israeli public. Such a referendum law must not be applied piecemeal to satisfy the agenda of the Left or the Right, the religious or the secular, but rather applied across the board to all laws that have the potential to fundamentally change the face of the country.
Obviously, to preserve our system of representative government, a mechanism must be established to limit the use of referenda to only the most serious questions. It is also clear that these referenda should be decided by a wide degree of consensus so that small shifts in public opinion cannot radically alter the course of Israeli life, and so that referenda can stand the test of time.
Utilized wisely, national referenda could become an invaluable part of our political process. By allowing people to directly express their views, we can ensure that the most serious questions concerning our common future will be treated with the gravity they deserve.
Views expressed by the author do not
necessarily reflect those of israelinsider.
 
|
|
|
|
Click on the blue headline to read a Talkback comment and respond to it. Click on the  icon to send a private email to the talkback writer. The icon appears only if the writer has decided to be contacted. If no popup window appears, please make sure your popup blocker allows israelinsider.com.
|
|
| |
|
|
