Where Failure's Just the Ticket

Thousands of Israelis attend a rally calling on Israel's Prime Minister Ehud Olmert to resign at Rabin Square in Tel Aviv, Israel, Thursday, May 3, 2007. Tens of thousands of protesters streamed to a central Tel Aviv square after sundown Thursday, demanding the resignation of Olmert because of a scathing inquiry report about the way he ordered and handled last summer's bloody, costly but inconclusive war in Lebanon. Text in Hebrew, foreground, reads "Elections now". (Oded Balilty - AP )

JERUSALEM Something is rotten in the state of Israel. "The lone democracy in the Middle East," as we Israelis proudly call our country, is stumbling from crisis to crisis, and the one that underpins them all is a crisis of leadership.

It's a striking bind for the nation to find itself in 40 years after the Six-Day War of 1967 ushered in an era of high certainty and swagger. Israel's political class is on the verge of imploding -- leaving behind a scandal-ridden country whose top general rushes to dump his stock portfolio on the eve of a war, where once-despised politicians again become serious contenders for the prime ministership after voters threw them out, where an almost universally disliked leader such as Prime Minister Ehud Olmert still manages to hang on.

Perhaps that's why the image of invincibility that Israel enjoyed since the Six-Day War feels so tattered. The public is painfully aware of the Israeli military's failure to defeat several hundred guerrillas from the radical Lebanese militia Hezbollah, as well as its ongoing inability to stop Hamas from firing rockets into the Israeli border town of Sderot from the Gaza Strip. The army now warns of another war this summer, this time with Syria, while the threat of a nuclear-armed Iran looms. No wonder that, despite a booming economy and a sharp reduction in terrorist attacks, many Israelis are fearful about the future.

Throughout this time of genuine danger, our leaders have been sullied by scandal upon scandal. The list of infamy is unbelievable: President Moshe Katsav, a soft-spoken, shadowy politician, stands accused of raping his female former secretaries and has been forced to take a leave while he waits to hear whether he will be indicted. Olmert awaits investigation of petty corruption suspicions relating to his previous ministerial posts. Former justice minister Haim Ramon, a great charmer and rising political star, was convicted of forcibly kissing a young female army officer. Finance Minister Avraham Hirschson, now suspended, is being investigated on suspicion of embezzlement.

Add to that bureaucrats from Israel's Tax Authority, along with Olmert's office manager, who have been arrested and face probable indictments in connection with corruption; the national police chief and his designated successor, who were hounded from office by old scandals; the resignations in the military's high command after its disastrous handling of the summer 2006 war in Lebanon; and a cabinet nominee who turned out to have faked her university degrees. Instead of rising to the challenge of securing the country, ending our occupation of Palestinian territory and growing the economy, Israel's leaders are busy defending themselves from the wrath of the criminal justice system.

What went wrong?

First, there's the very structure of Israel's democracy: In a state without a constitution or strong institutions, where the only checks and balances are the supreme court and commissions of inquiry, and where the life expectancy of governments is barely two years, strong personalities have an enormous advantage. Consider Israel's commanding former prime minister Ariel Sharon (a.k.a. "the Bulldozer"), who held the country in awe; then consider his successor, the less charismatic Olmert, who can barely stay afloat.

Second, public life has come to seem so corrupt that careers in business have much more appeal. Because our best and brightest increasingly view politics as a dirty game, it's no surprise that we have so few fresh leadership candidates -- and so many buoyant businesses.

Third, the endless Arab-Israeli conflict has taken its toll, leading right- and left-wingers to opposing conclusions about how to run the country. The right accuses "the Tel Aviv bubble" of going soft, of having lost its Zionist zeal. The left argues that the West Bank settlers have taken the country hostage to their narrow-minded, messianic ideology. The endless bickering breeds paralysis and drives sensible people to a hatred of politics.

The central irony here, of course, is that the great strength of democratic systems is their ability to be supple, resilient and above all adaptable. That's the theory. But in Israel today, we've replaced regeneration with deja vu.

To understand the current state of affairs, consider the hub of Israeli politics: the Knesset members' cafeteria in Jerusalem. It's a medium-sized hall with about 15 tables, a kosher lunch buffet and wonderful vistas of Israel's capital. One day last week, Binyamin Netanyahu, the leader of the right-wing Likud Party, sat near a window, smiling as he downed a plate of salmon. Bibi (as everyone calls him) was in high spirits: If elections were held tomorrow, he would be the sure winner. Pollsters don't even bother to measure Olmert's approval rating anymore; one March survey gave the hapless prime minister just 3 percent support.

Across the room sat Vice Premier Shimon Peres, eating a schnitzel and contemplating his next political moves with two aides. Peres, soon to turn 84, just announced his candidacy for the largely ceremonial job of state president, to be chosen by the Knesset on Wednesday. "This may be my last contribution," said the serial election loser, who entered political life when FDR was running the United States.