If Israelis think their foreign minister's ascent is an aberration, they're being disingenuous about the nation's rightwing forces
Yesterday's tub-thumping tirade by Israel's new foreign minister and deputy prime minister sent tremors through political circles, both internally and internationally. Politicians and pundits alike scrambled to distance themselves from Avigdor Lieberman's vitriol, implying that his views are utterly at odds with mainstream Israeli thinking, as though he and his ideology simply sprang out of a vacuum.
If they are to be believed, Lieberman represents no one but those on the outermost fringes of Israeli society, in the mould of racist demagogues such as Kahane and Marzel, and is therefore no more potent a threat to Israel's future than the rest of the extremist outcasts. They claim that only a small minority of voters backed him in the booth, that he has registered stunningly low approval ratings on his appointment, and that he is simply benefiting from a fortuitous set of circumstances that eased his passage into power.
But so what? The fact is, regardless of the way in which he ascended the political ladder, he is still Israel's foreign minister – responsible for presenting Israel's diplomatic face to the rest of the world and imbued with an extraordinary amount of responsibility on behalf of the seven million citizens of his country.
Yesterday's speech was an opportunity for him to pull back from some of the more obscene statements he'd made during his election campaign, now that he had the ministry in the bag and was speaking on behalf of the entire government; but – of course – his worm was not for turning. Instead, he spat out yet more taunts to the Palestinians and, by extension, the world at large, thumbing his nose at previous peace efforts and rattling his sabre as mockingly and menacingly as he could.
Mortified by his stance, Tzipi Livni decried Lieberman's outburst in no uncertain terms. Speaking to Army Radio, she said that the foreign minister had "showed the world that we are not a partner [for peace]." According to the Jerusalem Post, she said Israel was always complaining that there was no partner for peace on the Palestinian side, but that Lieberman's position would in fact make the international community perceive Israel as the main obstacle.
However, by taking such a stance, Livni implied that – Lieberman aside – Israel ought to be considered a "partner for peace", despite decades of evidence to the contrary. Israel has a fantastic record for talking the talk when it comes to concessions to the Palestinians, yet it never walks the walk if that can be avoided; brinksmanship, procrastination, or outright lies always turning out to be the preferred method of engagement.
The Gaza "withdrawal" pulled the wool over the eyes of none but the most ardent members of the "Israel right or wrong" brigade. Annapolis was rendered all but obsolete as soon as Olmert signed the agreement with one hand while concurrently rubberstamping settlement expansion with the other. The treadmill effect – where Israeli leaders act as though they're forever breathlessly running towards peace while never actually moving from the spot to which they're rooted – means that those backing the two-state solution are no nearer to realising their ambitions now than they ever have been.
Yet, if the polls are to be believed, the Israeli public are crying out for peace based on the 1967 borders, and are sick to death of war, occupation and eternal conflict with their neighbours. For a people so desperate to change the reality, we've got a funny way of showing it at the ballot box. "The government fits the people", as the saying goes – and since Lieberman's is one of the hands at the tiller, we are all guilty by association.
The signs that Israelis aren't so keen on unshackling the Palestinians anytime soon are everywhere; not just in the far-flung outposts of Judea and Samaria, as some would have the world believe. On the eve of the elections, I walked through a Jerusalem underpass plastered with dozens of posters emblazoned with photos of the late Lubavitcher Rebbe (whom many of his disciples believe to be the Messiah) which proclaimed: "The Messiah warns: A Palestinian state is dangerous for the Jews." I asked a religious man in the tunnel whether he agreed with the slogan. "Yes, of course", he replied casually. "If the Rebbe says so, then it is [so]." I asked him why it was dangerous to grant them their independence: "Because they'll use it to attack us", he responded, "and anyway, why should we fund them in the first place?"
That casual, careless approach towards an entire people's national aspirations and dreams of freedom, can be found almost everywhere in Israel. If there was not sufficient support for such actions at street level, there would be no way that the likes of Lieberman, Netanyahu, or even Livni would be given carte blanche to perpetuate the occupation and the oppression year after year.
The incumbent foreign minister is merely the latest manifestation of a 60-year-old malaise, and to pretend otherwise is to lead observers up the garden path. Israeli voters have been making our bed for decades, plumping up the pillows and smoothing out the sheets at every electoral opportunity: now we get to lie in it alongside Lieberman. That speaks volumes about the entire country, not just one politican and his master-plan.
A book of Seth Freedman's columns, Can I Bring My Own Gun?, is now available to Guardian readers for £6.99 (RRP £8.99)