There are many differences between preelection gatherings conducted by Jews and Arabs. For one thing, the burekas are tastier and more crispy in Arab locales. Fruit and vegetables abound, as do other pastries and drinks. The fare in these living-room meetings just happens to be better. But how much burekas can you eat in one day if you are a candidate running from one of 10 such consecutive meetings to another?
At these Arab caucuses, the women peek in from kitchens, because politics is for men only. In some houses, the plastic chairs the guests are seated on are covered by fine cloth. The salons are infused with cigarette smoke, cell phones ring constantly, and praise is heaped upon the candidate - who is treated with deference and respect. The bitter griping, complaints and criticism characteristic of Jews is nowhere to be found.
The questions asked are a mirror of the woes that Arab citizens face in their daily lives: difficulties getting connected to the electricity grid or becoming tenured employees with the Israel Electric Corporation; issues related to housing, sewerage, industrial zones, public transportation, family unification, university study and the lack of hospitals in the Arab sector.
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Yet, just as it is with the Jews these days, not a word is spoken about the occupation, Iran or the budget deficit. Nor is anything said about concepts of the "Jewish state" - as opposed to a "state of all its citizens."
Sometimes it seems as though the seats up for election are not for the next Knesset, but rather the local municipality . And the Palestinian Authority, which once involved itself up in balloting in the Israeli Arab sector, is staying away this time.
We are accompanying the electioneering rounds of MK Ahmed Tibi, or "the Doctor" as his supporters admiringly call him (Tibi had a career as a gynecologist before entering politics ) - and he had many such supporters during the day we spent together. The head of the United Arab List-Ta'al party, he is a television celebrity in Jewish households. In the morning he was seen on Channel 10's morning news program; the night before he appeared on the "Fly Away with a Million" game show; the day before that, he debated Channel 2's military correspondent Roni Daniel. Tibi has also previously been seen ripping up a picture of Meir Kahane while standing at the Knesset rostrum; in a standoff with a woman spitting at him at Bar-Ilan University; speaking eye-to-eye with Jews who despise him. Throughout it all, he "fights back" defiantly, and thereby stirs some pride in the Arab sector. Here, children quote his speeches and adolescents follow him on Twitter and Facebook.
In touch with modern trends, Tibi goes nowhere without his driver-photographer, a cap-wearing Palestinian from the Wadi Joz section of Jerusalem who documents every moment in the life of his boss during election season, for online posts. At 2:00 P.M., we sat in the dingy VIP section of Taibeh's soccer stadium, during the big derby match between Shimshon Taibeh and Taibeh Youth, for first place in Israel's fifth division.
In the blink of an eye, Tibi was posting photographs from the game on his Facebook page. Not a minute had passed before responses started to flow in, which he read diligently while the SOB Jewish referee was calling another offside against the Shimshon squad. Tibi helped raise a lot of money for this stadium, whose green field sparkles. Nonetheless, the Jewish policeman does not allow him to approach the players at halftime, so we take our leave, galloping forth toward the Arab village of Zemer.
On Tuesday this week we wandered between Taibeh, Zemer, Jatt, Baka al-Garbiyeh - the Arab towns and village of the Little Triangle region, in the country's center - until late at night. We moved from house to house, most of the large marble structures replete with thick curtains, silk sofas, crystal lamps and elegant living rooms. Tibi's constituency is comprised mainly of the Arab petit-bourgeoisie, the middle class of graying hair and bulging bellies. They are second-generation citizens of Israel, no longer stricken by the Nakba trauma as their parents were, but not yet the nationalist subversives that some of their children have become.
Of course, many young people were on hand, but perpetually suspicious Jewish Israelis can relax: These were not meetings for renegade Palestinian nationalists. Here the Arabic conversation is interspersed with Hebrew terms. And one word is uttered again and again, in Hebrew, and its echo can be found everywhere in this election campaign: "a-d-i-s-h-u-t" (apathy).
This is the lurking, all-dangerous, enemy, in the face of which this election campaign is being conducted. Tibi will not emit a single negative word about the other Arab parties vying with his own United Arab List-Ta'al list; his words are directed at the fear that, this year, more Arabs than ever before will simply choose not to cast ballots at all.
Repeatedly, he explains to his listeners that whoever does not vote is nonetheless casting a ballot - for the political right: for Benjamin Netanyahu, Avigdor Lieberman and Naftali Bennett. Should the percentage of Jewish voters rise and that of Arab voters decline, only two Arab parties (out of three ) are likely to cross the threshold that will even allow them to gain Knesset representation.
Tibi talks about how Nelson Mandela led his people in a fight for the principle of "one man one vote," a principle he says is the one equal right enjoyed by Israeli Arabs, but one of which they have now despaired.
The experts are now talking about an estimated turnout level of just 45 percent among Arab voters on Tuesday. Tibi estimates that only a tenth of the boycotters will be motivated by ideology; the remainder will act out of apathy and lack of faith in the utility of voting, and of the influence it can exert on the life of Arabs in this country.
Among Arab citizens as well, this is the drowsiest election campaign in memory. Towns may be draped in election banners, and the trees might sag with election signs; but Arab communities are always rife with signs and billboards - much more so than elsewhere - as though they are there to cover the neglect and abandonment.
Shoulder to shoulder
Election activists are already waiting at the gas station in Zemer, a relatively affluent village. They are drinking espresso. Pictures of Tibi are plastered everywhere, on windows and billboards. Other activists pass around Balad party newspapers at traffic junctions, and things in the village seem to be buzzing. "We will stand shoulder to shoulder with Tibi," the meeting's host declares, as people gather in a stone house belonging to the son of the former local council head.
At the next stop, Jatt, activists wait at what was once a fresh produce stand, and has now been converted into the United Arab List-Ta'al party's local headquarters. A gas heater spreads warmth into the space on the street, as though it were another Arab tire repair establishment. Activists here wear black and yellow shirts, the colors of both Islamic Jihad and Beitar Jerusalem, with the words "the Arab Movement for Renewal" (for which Ta'al is an acronym ) written on them in both Arabic and English, as though there is a proliferation of English-speaking movement supporters in Jatt.
Some of the supporters want to see less pro-Palestinian activity on the part of Tibi and his colleagues, and more activity on behalf of Israel's Arab sector. Tibi explains that data collected by the Knesset's research department reveals that 80 percent of activity undertaken by Arab MKs in fact relates to domestic issues, but that this work receives no media coverage. For example, there is the village resident who excelled in his work at the electric company, and received tenure status there thanks to Tibi's effort on his behalf. And then, of course, there are scholarships - about 100 a year - which Tibi raises for students who are enrolled in higher education programs in Jordan.
"We don't have rights in this land, we have rights to this land," he declares, letting out a rare nationalistic campaign statement. "We are not 'minorities,' we are one national minority. Does Anastassia Michaeli [outgoing MK from Yisrael Beiteinu] know what za'atar is? Look at her color, and our color. She is white, and we are the color of the earth of this country. Whether it's Bar-Ilan or [anywhere else] - I'll state my opinion everywhere."
A Hebrew teacher praises Tibi's Hebrew; his former biology teacher proudly pulls out a business card belonging to his son - an aeronautic engineer who now works for Airbus in Germany. The latter gesture is particularly touching. Tibi, the elderly teacher relates in his home, was an outstanding student in the Tira high school where he was enrolled.
"We wish him success," says the head of the investment department at a Netanya branch of Bank Hapoalim. And at dinner at the Awani restaurant, in Baka al-Garbiyeh, salads and skewered meats are devoured rapidly at a large table where election activists sit, a little before midnight.
