Israel’s latest elections, for the eleventh Knesset, have certified the state of paralysis and polarization that has gripped the country since the Lebanon invasion of 1982. The results of the election, and the failure of the Likud bloc to maintain a decisive plurality, certainly represent one consequence of the Lebanon war. When Menachem Begin resigned as prime minister in the fall of 1983 without any public explanation, many Israelis attributed this move to the Lebanon “tragedy,” as Begin himself referred to the continuing war in a Knesset speech just before his resignation. Clearly a great many Israelis consider the war a failure — even a nightmare. It was not a shock, therefore, when the final results of the vote showed the Likud losing seven Knesset seats, and its share of the popular vote declining from over 37 percent in 1981 to under 32 percent in 1984 (Table I).

But the elections signify the consequences of other wars as well. In the wake of the war of October 1973, there was widespread expectation in Israel of political changes. But because the Labor Alignment won the postwar elections in December 1973, and Golda Meir continued as prime minister, many people did not notice the extent to which those changes had begun. At that time, the Alignment’s share of the vote dropped by 15 percent, while Likud’s rose by 10 percent. The change of leadership occurred only four years later, in 1977. On that occasion, Likud made only slight gains over the 1973 results, but Labor’s steep decline continued. Labor recovered somewhat in 1981, though not enough to overtake the Likud. In 1984, though, the party lost three seats from the 1981 results, as its share of the popular vote dropped from almost 37 percent to under 35 percent. Labor’s slide from the pivotal position it held in Israeli politics until 1973 has continued right up to the present.

Thus the early assumptions of a Likud defeat and Labor victory proved unfounded, as these two major blocs ended in a virtual draw. The parliamentary gains in this election were made by the parties to the right and to the left of the two major blocs. On the right, the chauvinist Tehiya Party, headed by Yuval Ne’man, increased its seats from three to five. Meir Kahane’s fascist Kach movement easily secured enough votes for one seat in the parliament. The religious parties, taken together, held their own, though there was some redistribution of seats among them. In sum, the number of seats to the right of the Likud increased from three to eight. On the left or “dove” side of the spectrum, there was also a net addition of five seats. The Citizens’ Rights Movement increased its seats from one to three, while Shinui went from two to three. The new Progressive List for Peace gained two seats, and the Democratic Front for Peace and Equality held on to its four seats. Thus the total number of seats to the left of the Alignment increased from seven in 1981 to 12 in 1984.

The composition of the “national unity” cabinet, though, and the terms of the formal coalition agreement succeeded in displacing these results. The electoral arithmetic would not allow Likud to form the new government. The Alignment had its own problems. The six votes of the Democratic Front and the Progressive List were sure to go against the Likud, but people like Weizman (Yahad) and Hurwitz (Ometz) were opposed to entering a government which had to rely on the votes of the left. Weizman was a key figure in this maneuvering because he stubbornly refused to join the Likud. Some believe that Ariel Sharon’s campaign of threats and promises to persuade Weizman to join the Likud finally convinced him to throw in his lot with the Alignment. When Weizman decided to form a political faction together with the Alignment, he was in fact blocking the Likud’s chances of forming a narrow- based government. For its part, the Alignment was too weak and unstable to lead a government that would have had to include the National Religious Party while at the same time having the support of the left.

Other factors also pushed both parties toward a governing alliance with each other. First, the severe remedies needed to cope with the economic crisis would make any narrowly based government vulnerable to massive popular protests that an opposition bloc would surely mount. Labor would have good reason to fear the Likud’s potent populism in such a scenario. Second, both Peres and Shamir, as individuals, needed something like the “national unity” arrangement to preserve their own standing as leaders of their respective parties and to avoid the party shakeups that would almost surely accompany new elections. The “national unity” government that eventually emerged consists of 26 ministers, with a core “coordinating” body of ten ministers. On the Labor side, there are Shimon Peres (prime minister), Yitzhak Rabin (defence), Haim Bar-Lev (police), Yitzhak Navon (education) and Ezer Weizman (no portfolio). On the Likud side, the five core members are Yitzhak Shamir (foreign ministry), Yitzhak Modai (finance), David Levy (housing), Ariel Sharon (commerce and industry) and Moshe Arens (no portfolio). The agreement which forms the basis for the “national unity” government reflects the priorities and common political denomination of this coalition. In the economic realm, the chief requirement is to impose an IMF-type solution, and the November-to-January wage-price freeze is a step in this direction. This is designed to reduce real wages. Labor’s participation in this process is critical, given its links with the Histadrut labor federation. On Lebanon, both sides accept the necessity of withdrawing most Israeli troops from Lebanon as soon as possible, but both are equally committed to establishing an Israeli proxy force in south Lebanon and completing the infrastructure to facilitate future incursions. Finally, the agreement calls for the establishment of six new settlements during the government’s first year, with 20 more to be negotiated as finances permit. Thus any restrictions on settlements are financial and not at all political or ideological.

The Campaign

The previous Knesset election campaign in 1981, following four years of Likud rule, had been the stormiest in the country’s history. For months before the vote, polls had forecast Labor’s return to power as a result of the Likud’s increasing ineffectiveness. The key ministers in Begin’s first cabinet — Defense Minister Ezer Weizman, Foreign Minister Moshe Dayan and Finance Minister Yigal Hurwitz — had quit in well-publicized disputes. But a combination of belligerent foreign policy moves (the bombing of the Iraqi nuclear reactor and an escalation of tensions with Syria in Lebanon) and an economic program of easy money led to an impressive Likud victory.

Israel in 1984 was much more divided politically and beset by critical economic problems than in 1981. And the arrests earlier in the year of an organized Jewish terrorist underground were just one reminder that the dilemma of the occupation of the West Bank and Gaza persisted in a way that threatened the very future of democracy in Israel. Given these increasingly grave problems, and the 1981 precedent, many Israelis expected another bitter campaign. They also expected the elections to be crucial. As it turned out, the campaign was comparatively quiet, and the vote was anything but decisive. Both parties skirted the major issues. At one point, it appeared as if the outcome might rest on which party could enlist the better comedian for its television ads: would the Alignment win because it had hired a comedy team especially popular among Oriental Jews?

The relative tranquility of this campaign, especially as compared with 1981, was definitely not the intention of the Likud. Its strategy was to heat things up as much as possible in order to mobilize its supporters. One deputy minister, Haim Kaufman, spoke of the need to attack the Alignment “for everything it represents.” Asked whether he wanted to see a stormy campaign, Kaufman replied, “Absolutely. A quiet campaign will lull the voters to sleep and that would be a catastrophe for us.” [1] Knesset member Ronnie Milo declared that Herut’s aim was “to create antagonism.” “Our campaign goal,” he said, “is to stress the differences between the national camp and the other camp.” [2] Newsflash, a paper apparently put out by the Likud Young Guard, labelled Labor MK Yossi Sarid an “ashke-Nazi,” and another time asserted that kibbutzim (identified with Labor) were the main centers of drug consumption and emigration from the country.

The Alignment, for its part, strove to maintain a low- key campaign. Labor’s campaign manager was Yossi Sarid, perhaps the party’s most prominent exponent of withdrawal from the occupied territories. But any tendency on Labor’s part to reach a peaceful resolution of the conflict with the Arab states or the Palestinians was played down. Anything, in fact, which might stir controversy and thereby arouse voter antagonisms, especially among the country’s pro-Likud Oriental Jewish electorate, was studiously avoided. By Sarid’s own testimony, Labor’s strategy was to win over Likud voters on the basis of their dissatisfaction over the economy and despite their opposition to withdrawal from the occupied territories.

Labor’s Legacy

It was precisely Labor’s ambivalent position on questions of withdrawal and negotiations, and their record of support for settlements in the occupied territories and annexation of much of the territories, which prevented them from presenting the party as an alternative to the Likud. The Alignment was so preoccupied with the election campaign itself that it may not have taken sufficient note of developments which had helped shape its current image, position and potential. The Alignment’s predecessor, Mapai, had played a central role in the institutions of the Jewish community since the 1930s. From the year the state was founded until 1977, the party headed every government, though never with an absolute majority. Mapai defined itself as social democratic, but was not leftist. With 46 MKs in the first Knesset, it could have formed a leftwing coalition with Mapam (which then included Ahdut ha-Avoda and accounted for 19 seats). Instead, Mapai preferred tojoin with the right and center parties. During the first years of statehood, with Ben Gurion at the helm, Mapai was viewed as being almost synonymous with the state.

In foreign affairs, Mapai’s orientation was not at all leftist. The party wanted to identify Israel totally with the West. Towards the Arab world, Mapai’s attitude was militant. As for Israeli Arabs, the party imposed military rule on them, maintaining close political control of the Arab community. In economic affairs, Mapai maintained its leadership of the Histadrut and stressed a strong government role in the economy. At the same time, Mapai encouraged the private sector to expand the country’s economic base rapidly and create jobs for the large numbers of immigrants arriving in Israel at that time.

This combination of mass immigration and rapid economic development took on a specific social expression. On the one hand, there was a population of “old-timers” occupying the key positions in the economy, society, public services and politics; on the other side were the new Jewish immigrants coming from Arab countries and traditional societies. They found themselves in an alien society, discriminated against in the allocation of housing and given inferior jobs. It was the beginning of the process which created what we now call “the second Israel.” Nationalism and chauvinism became their refuge, the only basis they found for identifying with this society. Belligerent nationalism was the other side of their socioeconomic and cultural oppression. In 1977 and before, their vote was mainly a protest vote and victory seemed to have gone to the Likud somewhat by chance. In 1981, though, many Oriental Jews voted for Likud as a conscious act. Their vote was no longer one of haphazard protest, but was meant to shape Israel’s political character, if necessary against the will of those who stood for everything they considered wrong with Israel. Between 1981 and 1984, the Alignment tried to break down this ethnic barrier, primarily through gimmickry. Yitzhak Navon, the former president of the state and himself an Oriental Jew, was one major card the party could play. But Navon was no longer president, and he was against Likud. At one rally a person shouted out, “You’re nothing without Begin! You only became president when Begin was in office.” If this reception was not typical, it is still true that support for Navon never reached a level affecting voter preferences.

Although Labor’s strategy was to exploit popular dissatisfaction with Likud’s economic policies, it managed to keep its own positions on the economy virtually secret. The platform declared the obvious — that there was indeed an economic crisis — and called vaguely for “a complete change of policy, and to harness all national resources to the rehabilitation of the economy.” Party spokesmen promised that Labor would lower the trade, balance of payments and budget deficits without harming living standards. Specific policies, though, were scarcely heard. The party’s finance minister-designate, Gad Ya’cobi, would only say that preferences would be given to export industries, while “we will put an absolute stop to government investments in densely-populated Arab areas of Judea and Samaria and we will speed up the withdrawal of the IDF from Lebanon.” [3]

When David Ben Gurion left Labor in 1965 to form Rafi, he brought with him a coterie of like-minded proteges which included Moshe Dayan, present Labor Party leader and prime minister Shimon Peres, and former president Navon. The social base of the rightist tendency in Labor flourished in the aftermath of the 1967 war. When Rafi and Ahdut ha-Avoda joined Mapai in 1967 to form the present Labor Party, Dayan headed a large group of “hawks” who maintained a powerful influence within the party. While the “doves” hoped that the superpowers would pressure Israel to withdraw — as they had after the 1956 war — the “hawks” promoted faits accomplis in the occupied territories and nurtured the growing chauvinism in Israeli society. Even the rise in 1970 of the Black Panthers among the Oriental Jews was regarded as being of marginal importance. The Labor Party of the early 1970s remained very confident. Its policies on questions of war and peace looked more and more like the policy of the right, without the rhetoric. The entire political spectrum shifted to the right and most Israelis celebrated in an atmosphere of euphoria, believing that Israel had become an omnipotent regional superpower. Labor did not make drastic pronouncements as Likud did, but the policy it carried out was essentially one of “creeping annexation.”

The growth of annexationist inclinations in Labor and the larger society was also related to changes in Israel’s social structure. While much of Israel’s older bourgeoisie had found its political representation in the Likud, and particularly in its Liberal Party component, the society was producing a new elite whose allegiance was first with Labor. This grouping included directors of government ministries, army officers and heads of security services, senior officials and managers of factories and Histadrut-owned companies. Many of these people joined with some of the newer bourgeoisie in 1977 to form the short-lived Democratic Movement for Change, which absorbed critical votes from Labor and ended up joining in the coalition government formed by Begin. Today the DMC no longer exists, but its constituency does not seem to have returned to Labor’s camp.

While in opposition, Labor continued to behave as though it were still governing. There was no serious reevaluation of the Party’s program or orientation. In 1982, when Israel invaded Lebanon, the Alignment supported the government. Vocal opponents like Sarid and Victor Shemtov were considered to be damaging the party in the early days when only the radical left expressed firm opposition to the war. As the demonstrators grew in number, and especially as their ranks were swelled by soldiers returning from the front, Peace Now, which has close ties to Labor, also joined the organized opposition. Only then did opposition to the war become noticeable inside the Party. And only after the Sabra and Shatila massacres did Labor try to assume leadership of the opposition. Thus there was the spectacle of Yitzhak Rabin, former chief of staff and prime minister and present minister of defense, who had accompanied Ariel Sharon on some of his wartime visits to Lebanon and offered his advice, standing on the podium at the massive demonstration after the massacre, alongside party leader and rival, Shimon Peres.

A sharp contest had erupted in 1981 between Peres and Rabin for leadership of the Labor Party. Polls indicated that Rabin was the more popular, but the party influentials preferred Peres. In 1984, it first appeared that of the potential Labor candidates for prime minister, former president Navon had the most popular appeal. When it looked as if those favoring Rabin were shifting their support to Navon, Rabin initiated an understanding with Peres to share key posts among their respective supporters, leading Navon to withdraw rather than challenge this alliance in a divisive pre-election battle. Labor thus managed to present itself as a united party under Peres, Rabin and Navon.

These same old faces brought with them the same old programs. Alignment positions have changed very little over the last ten years, as a reading of the 1977 and 1984 platforms indicates. The current platform, for instance, “rejects the Likud policy [towards the occupied territories] of ‘not one inch’” and stipulates that “the settlements in the heart of the populated areas and the mixed communities in Judea and Samaria not only fail to serve Israel’s security needs, but constitute a security problem and a heavy economic and political burden.” At the same time, the platform is vague about Labor’s own annexationist map: “The Jordan River is Israel’s eastern security border…. The settlements in the Jordan Valley, Gush Etzion and environs of Jerusalem, and the southern Gaza Strip, as well as in the Golan Heights are vital for the security of the state.” [4]

With regard to the Palestinian question, Labor “is opposed to the establishment of another Palestinian state in the territory between Israel and Jordan.” It advocated negotiations with the Amman regime in which “authorized representatives of the Palestinian Arab residents of Judea, Samaria and the Gaza Strip,” but not the PLO, would participate. Labor’s “no’s” regarding the Palestinians and its stand on the territories are two reasons for its positive attitude towards King Hussein. Another has to do with the crucial importance which the party attaches to relations with Washington and its desire that the Americans play a central role in any political settlement. This is why the party opposes such moves as the reconvening of the Geneva Conference or any Soviet participation in the negotiating process.

Likud and the Right

For nearly three decades, Menachem Begin headed a small party, Herut, which did not pose any real threat to the rule of Mapai. Herut was nurtured on essentially the same ideological foundations as the radical rightwing parties in Europe: the paramount importance of the state; the inadmissability of class struggle or any societal conflict that would impair the national struggle. Herut’s founding motto was the “recovery” of the entire eretz yisrael, including Transjordan. Its socioeconomic philosophy called for free enterprise with inducements for private capital. At the same time, it maintained a strong streak of populism, emphasizing the rights of the poor and deprived. When Herut initiated the formation of a political bloc — first the Gahal and then the Likud — it created a complex and contradictory political entity which combined the laissez faire economics of the Liberals with its own populism.

Under Likud’s rule, settlement in the occupied territories received an enormous boost, in order to assure the goal of complete annexation. The treaty with Egypt involved a different calculation. Begin and his party did not have an uncompromising attitude about the Sinai. They perceived the Camp David Accords as a guarantee that the West Bank and Gaza would remain in Israeli hands. And Camp David also made possible the Lebanon invasion, the war that was meant to ensure Israel’s grip on the occupied territories. By the time the Shamir government went into these elections, the Lebanon debacle had been practically overshadowed by the enormity of the economic crisis. Investments, even in real estate, had practically ceased. Inflation had reached an annual rate of about 400 percent. The stock exchange had never recovered from the panics of 1983, and was operating at less than one-sixth of what it had been the year before. The government strove to maintain an artificial atmosphere of economic well-being, aided by a continued low level of unemployment and election year favors. Immediately after the election, though, finance ministry officials warned that Israel’s necessary imports would be threatened by any additional drop in hard currency reserves.

The election results showed the extent to which Likud’s losses were not Labor’s gain. Some of the dissatisfaction with the government was channeled from the major party of war and annexation to the more adventurist and racist groups, especially Tehiya and Kach. The head of Tehiya’s list, Yuval Ne’man, is a physicist who was minister of science in the outgoing government. When the Jewish terrorists were arrested, Ne’man justified the bomb attacks on the Palestinian mayors as a necessary task which the government itself could not perform. Geula Cohen, second on Tehiya’s list, could no longer sustain her familiar argument that the Jewish terrorist underground was a figment of the “Israeli left’s imagination, but she did manage to “understand” the terrorists’ excellent motives. Third on Tehiya’s list was former chief of staff Rafael Eitan, who joined with his own Tzomet group. One piece of Eitan’s campaign oratory was that civil rights, including the right to vote, be available “only to those who have done national service,” thereby excluding Israel’s Palestinian Arab population, about one-sixth of the total. Fourth on Tehiya’s list is Rabbi Eliezur Waldman, a prominent figure in the settlement movement. His name has been raised several times in the Jewish terrorist underground trial as someone suspected of having known in advance about the bomb attacks on the Palestinian mayors in 1981.

The Tehiya-Tzomet faction is no longer the most fanatically racist element in the Knesset. That distinction is now reserved for the Kach movement headed by Meir Kahane. The Brooklyn rabbi’s typical campaign slogans called for “death to the terrorists” and “expel the Arabs.” “They’re screwing like bunnies,” Kahane told one rally of mostly Oriental Jewish youths, “and we give them checks.” Kahane found much applause for his accusation that “Arabs are taking jobs away from Jews” and “taking Jewish women to bed.” “The only solution is expulsion,” he repeated. In a presentation before the Supreme Court, the representative of the attorney general characterized Kach as an organization promoting Nazi principles. Kahane is correct when he claims that he only says out loud what many others quietly favor in one form or another — not only the Tehiya-Tzomet crowd, but also those who identify themselves with the Likud, some of the religious parties and even the right wing of the Alignment. In a recent poll, some 29 percent responded that “there are some views of Kahane they share,” while 54 percent reject Kahane totally and 17 percent expressed no opinion.

The Dove Camp

Condemnation of Kahane and what he represents has, of course, been quite strong, and come from across the political spectrum. His election has even allowed the likes of Rabbi Levinger to pose as “moderates” by criticizing Kahane publicly. An effort to ban Kach from the ballot was rejected by the Supreme Court. The Shamir government had simultaneously tried to ban the Progressive List for Peace, pretending that Kach and the Progressive List represented the two unacceptable extremes of right and left. The Progressive List’s extremism consisted of advocating a negotiated settlement of the Palestine conflict, including negotiations with the PLO and recognition of Palestinian national rights. Although the order banning both parties was overturned, the action did constitute a significant government harassment of the Progressive List and served Likud’s purpose of identifying the proponents of negotiation and recognition of Palestinian rights as “extremists,” as dangerous and anti-democratic as Kahane and Kach.

It is difficult to specify the “chilling effect” this may have had on other “peace forces.” It was not only the left wing of Labor which muted its conciliatory tendencies. Sheli, some of whose members supported dialogue with the Palestinians before the party split, joined forces with the Citizens’ Rights Movement headed by Shulamit Aloni. This party, despite its strong “dovish” component, did not present itself as a party concerned with the peace issue and did not offer a formula for resolving the Palestine conflict. The entry of the Progressive List was hotly contested by the Democratic Front for Peace and Equality, headed by the Communist Party. Both were competing, under the circumstances, for the votes of Israeli Arabs, and in their rivalry many forgot that they both basically agreed on the major issue addressed in each of their platforms: recognition of Palestinian national rights, including the right to establish a state alongside Israel, and negotiations with the PLO as the legitimate representative of the Palestinian people. As it turned out, the Democratic Front held on to its four seats, while the Progressive list picked up two.

The Lesser Repulsion

Likud’s popularity in various polls had only begun to fall in the aftermath of the Sabra and Shatila massacres. Labor’s standing increased only slightly, though, and it was not until after the October 1983 stock market crash that the Alignment actually took a lead in polls. But it remained an ambivalent lead, relating more to the state of the economy and withdrawal from Lebanon, while the Likud was still favored on the question of the occupied territories. Furthermore, 43 percent of one sample in April 1984 responded that no party could deal with the country’s economic problems. [5] Still another poll showed that Labor’s better standing reflected not its own popularity but the greater unpopularity of Likud. [6] (Table II)

Labor’s long-standing support for annexation of considerable portions of the West Bank had narrowed its ability to present broader options in this campaign. The great majority of Likud supporters — 77 percent — opposed any withdrawal; a significant 20 percent of Labor supporters likewise rejected relinquishing any of the territories. [7] These are public positions that both Labor and the Likud have nurtured for many years; it is not hard to see why it is difficult for Labor to offer some other option. The Likud faced no contradiction by retaining its uncompromising stand, since most of its supporters back its position unequivocally. But were Labor to favor withdrawal, a considerable margin of its support would be alienated and it would be harder to attract Likud voters. This accounts for the vague and contradictory positions of Labor on these questions, which in turn meant that large numbers of voters had to wonder what the party’s real position was, and whether it was at all credible.

Throughout the campaign, the Likud continued to claim that the invasion of Lebanon had been necessary. It hinted that any failures were attributable to the opposition, who “behaved as traitors.” At the same time, the ruling party insinuated that those who had initiated the war — Begin and Sharon — had already been replaced by those leaders most suited to getting Israel unstuck from its consequences.

Much like the situation regarding the occupied territories, the Alignment had its own problems with the Lebanon war, which it initially had supported. It had to justify its belated criticism to a public which it had helped encourage to be intolerant of criticism and suspicious of conciliatory stands. Here, too, it was hard for the Alignment to be unambiguous. It later called for the withdrawal of Israeli forces from Lebanon, but without presenting a critique of the underlying assumptions on which the invasion had been based. The obvious truth was that the Alignment shared a good many of these same assumptions.

How Long?

The “national unity” agreement gives Peres the premiership for 25 months, and then turns it over to Shamir for another 25. Peres’ task is to tackle the economic crisis, and particularly the phenomenal inflation which has gripped the country, by carrying out a “dialogue” with the various sectors. What this means above all is that he is expected to secure Histadrut support for a set of policies aimed primarily at wage-earning people. Yet the key economic portfolios were handed over to the Likud: Modai is finance minister and Sharon, as minister of commerce and industry, is responsible for implementing the wage-price freeze. Ya’cobi, Labor’s “shadow” finance minister, was given the vaguely defined ministry of “economic planning.”

How long will this regime last? Predictions are difficult. It is sustained chiefly by the lack of alternatives. So far, this government has accomplished little on the economic front. The 90-day wage-price freeze was designed to allow it time to develop a comprehensive and drastic plan for economic recovery, but it has not even been able to implement the preliminary budget cuts that all economists agree are essential. Meanwhile, the situation becomes more critical, and its social and political consequences more stark. Particularly ominous is the intensifying anti- Arab racism among Oriental Jews hit hard by rising unemployment. The atmosphere of mounting social and economic disruption is one in which the most rightwing and chauvinist forces will thrive.

In the aftermath of the elections, there has been a further winnowing of left forces from the Labor-dominated center, particularly with the decision of Mapam to leave the Alignment rather than sit in a government with Sharon. This, and Yossi Sarid’s decision to leave Labor, are key factors in forming a moderate left front, including parts of Peace^Now. This could be the beginning of a new force which would attract large numbers of Israeli voters. But it will be difficult to overcome important differences in such a partnership. Shemtov’s recent resignation as Mapam’s secretary-general seemed to stem from the obstacles he saw to such a project. On the other side of the spectrum there is the emergence of Kahane, with his ability to make even Eitan and Sharon look “moderate.” This indicates how far the Israeli political spectrum has shifted to the right, and the dangers posed by the confluence of this growing chauvinism with the severe crisis of the economy.”



[1] Jerusalem Post, July 20, 1984.
[2] Yediot Ahronot report on a meeting at the Likud Young Guard headquarters, supplement, June 15,1984. p. 13.
[3] These are a few points taken from the party’s economic programs, translated into English by the Labor Party and published in the Jerusalem Post, July 13, 1984.
[4] Labor Party-Mapam Platform, 1984.
[5] The poll, by the Pori Institute, interviewed a “representative sample” of 1200 men and women. Haaretz, December 11, 1984.
[6] Hanoch and Rafi Smith in Jerusalem Post, May 18, 1984.
[7] Y. Peres, Haaretz election supplement, July 20, 1984, p. 6.

How to cite this article:

Zvi Schuldiner "Israel’s “National Unity”," Middle East Report 129 (January 1985).

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