A new-old team

Boom-boom. Amir Ohana's primary video, just before the polls, presented a plot in which he and his advisors gather for a brainstorming session, asking themselves in which direction it is worth taking the election video. Ohana at the head of the table, ideas being thrown around. One of the advisors suggests a security campaign of "boom-boom-boom" — a takeoff on that one, Herod who needed armor. In the end, when the breakthrough is not found, the team decides to go for "nothing."

"Likud members, you know me, there is no need for gimmicks and AI," Ohana looks straight into the camera. And you look from the other side of the screen with astonishment. The man identified the pathetic nature of his friend Israel Katz's aggressive campaign but missed the irony in his own video: the attempt to look for a direction for a campaign when there are no achievements to boast about, and then to wave the "nothing" that was found. And yet, it worked for the most non-statesmanlike Knesset Speaker in Israel's history. He finished second in the primaries. Congratulations.

So the primaries are behind us. Congratulations to those who apparently are not continuing. Congratulations to Gamliel, Milwidsky, Silman, Dichter, Vaturi. Likud voters did you a favor and refrained from a similar kindness to Regev, Kish, Amsalem, Shkly and others. This is not schadenfreude. You were simply not good at your job. I am sorry if I am dropping something on you. Perhaps you had such a vague feeling before, say, from the cry of the people. Somehow you did not understand the concept of a public servant. For four years you worked for foreign goals. Unfortunately, with the skills you acquired — to serve Benjamin Netanyahu — employment opportunities outside the Knesset are limited.

I wish it were possible to compliment you on the attempt to run anyway. After the October 7 disaster, and what came after, we all knew that caring, ideological leaders were needed, those with an opinion, close to their people. New faces. And you, who understood that most of the people do not trust you, acted out and scoffed, even at the need for a new beginning — you continued to hold on until the job disconnected from you. Stubbornness is usually a worthy trait. Your stubbornness is shameful. Farewell.

Not all politicians, like Levin for example, shout from the springboard and make it easy for us, the voters, to identify who they are and what their intention is. If only it were possible to stick a red label, like the one on frozen malawach, to warn against politicians with caressing words who might cause harm: fake in high quantity, opportunism in an exceptional rate, living in a movie in a Hollywood dosage. Just like Gadi Yevarkan, who just before the primaries split from the split to establish a faction called "Beit Yisrael," which is, according to him, open to everyone. Repeating, open to everyone.

Take for example Sharren Haskel. "Israel First," she called her new party. Israel, as if we were first. Until recently, before she established a party, we were after. And suddenly she who was a finger in the bloc of Goldknopf and Ben Gvir, she who was part of "New Hope" which turned out to be old, declares that she will put us first. There is no difference between those who fled the coalition before the buzzer and those who were ejected now. Both should keep a distance from everything that falls under the definition of public service. There is no need to open Pandora's boxes now, to tell about what was. We will also forgo last words. There are farewells for which silence is beautiful.

List. A list, according to Wikipedia, is a tool for the systematic presentation of information. Look for example at the Likud one, well, the new one. At the elected happy ones, at the information they carry: the disaster, the split, the looting, the trampling of equality, the institutions, the army, the flight from leadership, from a commission of inquiry, from responsibility, from hope itself. This is the first ten.