"I was sure that Moshe Katsav would commit suicide": Zion Amir opened up about everything - and then came the questions about Netanyahu
The veteran lawyer gave Omri Assenheim a rare glimpse into the moments behind the trials of Moshe Katsav, Dudu Topaz, and Gonen Segev. When the conversation reached Netanyahu, the fascinating interview drifted into a predictable and exhausting political confrontation.
"I was sure that Moshe Katsav would commit suicide." This sentence was said by lawyer Zion Amir in his conversation with Omri Assenheim on the program "Assenheim" on Reshet 13. Amir is a lawyer who has seen everything, one who represented some of the most senior people in Israel who stood trial. Despite his current "Bibist" positions, the people who stood trial when he represented them did not come only from one side of the political map. Amir represented Dudu Topaz, the man whom Menachem Begin quoted in the "Chachchachim" speech, and Gonen Segev, whose vote was significant on the way to the Oslo Accords.
Most of the conversation between Amir and Assenheim touched on one of the most charged questions in defense work: to what extent does conscience play a role in legal defense. Amir tried to walk between the raindrops and said that he makes sure to bring his conscience with him to work, but made sure throughout almost the entire way to make the separation between his personal opinions and what he was tasked to do.
Amir, a son of a Moroccan family that lived in a ma'abara in Jerusalem and later moved to Sderot, still carries on his back to this day the deaths of two of his brothers and the sense of responsibility he felt toward the terrible disasters that befell them. The only moment when his flow of speech was interrupted was when he told about his brother Shimon who fell during his military service, days after an incident where Zion the child said to him "that you should die." Another brother, Yoram, passed away following a mistake in a medical procedure he underwent on Zion's recommendation.
The first part of the conversation, the one that dealt with the famous trials, was fascinating. Amir revealed in it conversations he held with his former clients, told how Katsav's decision to insist on a trial cost him imprisonment, and described the moment when Dudu Topaz broke and the maneuver he did in the conversation with Segev. Amir told about everything in a matter-of-fact, calculated tone, as someone accustomed for decades to provide vague answers to the media. But this time he agreed to tell about the intimate moment between Katsav and his wife that contained within it the surrealism of the courts. The President of the State who stands before an indictment for rape understands what awaits him and breaks.
Above the entire conversation hovered one name that was just waiting to be said out loud. When Assenheim and Amir moved to talk about Benjamin Netanyahu, the conversation turned from an interesting discussion about the boundaries of conscience and the backrooms of the country's biggest cases into a dialogue of the deaf between two people from two sides of the political map. When Assenheim asked Amir how he deals with the fact that his daughters are demonstrating at Kaplan, he answered: "In the internal discussion within Israeli society, I cannot influence even one person to change their mind." What a pity that the two did not listen to this sentence.
The discourse on "Bibism" brought out of Amir a different side that was not seen throughout the interview. When he spoke about the people he represented as a lawyer, he was careful not to claim their full innocence and even admitted himself that there were times he understood they were guilty. Even when he spoke about Aharon Barak, whom he appreciates, he made sure to criticize him without lashing out. In contrast, when asked about the judicial revolution, the firing of Ronen Bar, or Netanyahu's attempt to form a government with Mansour Abbas, he was much more decisive. The discussion itself was less interesting than the change in the atmosphere in the room and the exhausting transition from hair-raising stories to pointless mutual accusations.
Finally, after admitting that Netanyahu offered him to be appointed to the position of State Comptroller and noting the words of the Lubavitcher Rebbe that the Prime Minister will continue to serve "until the coming of the Messiah," Assenheim turned to Amir and pulled out the question of questions: Is Amir himself capable of being Prime Minister. "When I am there, I will know," he answered, and after a little more pressure from Assenheim added: "It is a role that requires you to have supreme talents. Netanyahu has them. Bennett does not. And for me, it is not an insurmountable challenge."
