The beautiful, the ugly, and the average Israeli go to the polls

The beautiful Israeli, the ugly Israeli, and the average Israeli go to the polls. The ugly one arrives in a jeep and parks on the sidewalk — he is only there for two minutes. The average one circles for fifteen minutes, cursing the one who blocked half the sidewalk, and then parks in a red-and-white zone (he is also only there for two minutes). The beautiful one parks on the sidewalk legally. He has a disabled parking permit in his mother's name (who is, by the way, at home), and besides, he is only there for two minutes.

There is a line at the entrance. The ugly one cuts in front of everyone because the neighbor's daughter is sitting on the election committee, and he just wants to ask how things are. The average one mutters, "A country of animals," recognizes a friend three people ahead of him, shouts, "Avi! What's up?" and stands next to him. The beautiful one does not cut in line, God forbid. He has an exemption from the line — also in his mother's name. The ugly one looks at him: "Brother, you look perfectly fine to me." The beautiful one is shocked: "Not every disability is visible." He is right, his is indeed hard to see, because his mother is at home.

All three came to save the country. It is one of the beautiful traditions of elections in Israel: 10 million citizens, and each one is convinced that the country would be a paradise if only all the others would stop destroying it. The beautiful one came to celebrate democracy. He brought his children so they would learn that citizenship is a responsibility and that one must respect those who think differently. In the morning, he already wrote on Facebook that whoever votes for the other camp is a danger to the country. He believes in pluralism: every person has the right to their own opinion. It is just unclear why so many people insist on choosing the wrong opinion.

The ugly one loves the country with all his soul, and therefore the elections bring this love out of him in shouts. He wants security, education, and a livelihood, but he simply does not understand how it is possible to achieve them when half the people are idiots. He does not hate those who vote differently than him, God forbid, we are all brothers, he just thinks that one must not let them decide anything. The average one is not political at all. He does not understand those whose whole life is "yes Bibi, no Bibi." He says this at Friday dinner, at work, at the barber, in the family WhatsApp, and in a taxi with a driver he met four minutes ago. He knows exactly who is corrupt, who is a traitor, who is a draft dodger, who is a parasite, and who will sell the country for a seat. Give him a minute and he will explain to you how fed up he is with those people whose whole life is politics.

And there is no way to know who the three of them are voting for. The beautiful one from the right votes for security, from the left for democracy, the ultra-orthodox for Judaism, the secular for freedom, and the Arab for equality. It is the same with the ugly one: the right-winger hates leftists in the name of love for Israel, the leftist hates Bibists in the name of tolerance, the secular hates ultra-orthodox in the name of freedom, and the ultra-orthodox hates seculars in the name of selfless love. And the average one? He is a Likudnik but not a Bibist, a leftist but not delusional, religious but open, and secular but a Jew at heart.

All three want unity and honest politicians provided that the other side starts first. The beautiful one will heal the rifts, but only if the other side comes toward him, the ugly one only after the other side surrenders, and the average one will hug the other side as long as he does not have to sit next to them. Everyone is against corruption, but when it turns out that the corrupt person is one of our own, then proportions are needed. Behind the curtain, all three insert the ballot they planned to anyway. And, of course, all three threaten that if the other side wins the election, they are leaving the country. The beautiful Israeli has already inquired about a house in the Peloponnese, the ugly one knows someone who is selling a villa in Crete, and the average one is checking how much a two-and-a-half-room apartment costs in Athens. None of them will leave. What would he do there without Israelis to complain about?

Dr. Kuti Shoham is an expert on political thought.