Kevin McCarthy's embrace of Benjamin Netanyahu ignored his war on Israeli democracy

By Trudy Rubin

JERUSALEM ― When Kevin McCarthy visited Israel May 1, he aligned himself with a would-be autocrat who is assaulting Israel's democracy and splitting the country apart.

Not only did the House speaker offer to host Benjamin Netanyahu in Congress, a slap at President Joe Biden who has rightly delayed a White House invitation to the Israeli prime minister because of his stunningly undemocratic actions.

Worse, McCarthy ignored the unprecedented grassroots battle waged for the past 17 weeks by hundreds of thousands of Israel's best and brightest to prevent Netanyahu from gutting the Supreme Court ― and empowering violent ultraradical nationalists and religious zealots.

Like Donald Trump, Netanyahu has embraced dangerous allies and attacked the courts in hopes of avoiding conviction on corruption charges. Like Trump, he is willing to ally with messianic believers and thugs, if it will help him retain power.

True, with a population of 9.3 million people, Israel is a much smaller and differently structured society than ours. Yet American democrats (with a small "d") should watch how Israeli civil society is organizing to fight for democratic values. Israelis are facing a more advanced stage of the war to preserve democracy than we have reached here.

"Finally, the thinking people are making their voice heard," I was told by Shikma Bressler, a 42-year-old highly respected particle physicist at the Weizmann Institute of Science who has become the face ― and frequent moderator ― of Tel Aviv's massive Saturday night demonstrations. We were standing inside a deserted mall as she prepared to go out to the stage to take the mike and lead the chant for "De-mo-crat-ya!" (democracy in Hebrew).

As she explained, in the Israeli system ― which has a symbolic president, only one house of parliament, and no constitution ― the Supreme Court serves as the only real check on the governing party or coalition. Netanyahu's plan would gut the court's oversight role, giving his coalition unlimited power. And that coalition includes radical nationalist and extreme religious parties with no interest in democracy, who want to totally change the character of the state.

Moreover, to retain power, Netanyahu has made himself beholden to small coalition partners like the Jewish National Front, headed by Itamar Ben-Gvir, who has been jailed and was rejected for army service because of his embrace of Jewish terrorism.

Yet Ben-Gvir, who wants to annex the occupied West Bank, and recently advocated burning down a Palestinian town (his later apology was forced), has been made national security minister ― and Netanyahu has promised him his own personal militia.

Already, Ben-Gvir has requested the power to arrest and hold Israelis without trial ― a process known as "preventive detentions," and used against Palestinians on the West Bank. This would be like ending the right of habeas corpus in the United States.

So it was with knowledge of this dangerous governing coalition that a small group of entrepreneurs, retired senior military officers, legal experts, and social activists got together in mid-December to establish a future headquarters for protest. "We felt it was indispensable to get civil society together," I was told by attorney Gilead Sher, one of the organizers who served as chief of staff and senior negotiator with the Palestinians for former Prime Minister Ehud Barak.

As different communities and social groups began to gather among themselves and look for ways to protest, they would gradually link up with this loose organizing structure ― from existing nongovernmental organizations (NGOs), neighborhood groups, women's groups, high-tech business associates, lawyers, doctors, psychologists, or just groups of friends. "We are only the enablers," Sher told me. "This is bottom-up, spontaneous."

Despite government attempts to label the demonstrators as "elites," the base is broader, including centrists, center-rightists, and some religious Israelis. Moreover, the elite ― the tech sector, professionals, academia, and other international businessmen ― are the Israelis who have built the country's "start-up nation." Without these communities, Israel's economy cannot succeed.

And most critically, the organizing extends to military retirees and reservists around the country, who play a far greater role in society than most Americans could imagine.

The organizers do provide ideas for strategy and some logistics, coordination, and legal advice for protests in 150 large and small cities and towns, and neighborhoods across the country. Money is raised by crowdfunding and donations from Israelis inside and outside the country.

Astonishingly, hundreds of thousands of demonstrators continue to rally every weekend, comprising around 5 percent of the population. In comparison with the United States, that would mean around 20 million people demonstrating across the country each week.

But what is most striking about this spontaneous eruption of pro-democracy protest is that it has united some of the most productive communities in Israel against Netanyahu's effort to spring a judicial coup for personal gain.

I have seen for myself the massive educational impact the protests have had on the Israeli public. Friends have shown me the myriad of WhatsApp messages flooding their phones, initially offering legal information on the meaning of the so-called judicial "reform." Like Americans, many Israelis were not well-versed in government mechanics before Netanyahu's assault.

However, the vast difference between bottom-up support for democracy and top-down support for Netanyahu's illiberal plans was visible at the first major demonstration for Netanyahu's agenda in Jerusalem, which I attended last Thursday.

The crowds were mainly West Bank settlers and orthodox religious families, most of whom had been bused in from outlying towns. The government had been talking up the demonstration for days, the speakers were government ministers and members of parliament, and political party funds had picked up much of the cost. Attendees trampled on a huge banner with the face of the president of the Supreme Court.

Netanyahu may try to delay the judicial "reform" in hopes the pro-democracy crowd will fade, or he may try to sneak some of the bills through, after a pause, in order to keep his coalition from breaking apart.

But the unity, the thoughtfulness, the belief in ― and understanding of ― democratic principles that I heard on the streets of Jerusalem and Tel Aviv (despite the avoidance of the Palestinian issue) was amazing. It was testimony to the ability of an educated populace to rise up against an effort to destroy democratic institutions that had long been taken for granted.

In Israel, a longtime apathy toward democracy has been replaced by a determined struggle to retain it. Pay attention, those who worry about U.S. democracy. McCarthy's supreme indifference to the Israeli struggle is a signal of what lies ahead for us all.

Trudy Rubin is a columnist and editorial-board member for the Philadelphia Inquirer. Readers may write to her at: Philadelphia Inquirer, P.O. Box 8263, Philadelphia, Pa. 19101, or by email at trubin@phillynews.com. This column was distributed by Tribune Content Agency.