Shai Tsur
This is the third piece from Shai Tsur in a series of blog posts from Israelis with different perspectives on the forthcoming elections. The writer is a Tel-Aviv based former journalist who works in the finance industry and has his own weblog at Shaister. Read his first piece here and his second piece here.
Every Israeli election has its Cinderella story, a tale of a small party that suddenly doubles or triples its representation.
During the 90s, the ultra-Orthodox Shas party rose from obscurity to become the third-largest faction in the Knesset. In the last two elections, the same thing happened to its secular rival, Shinui.
Avigdor Lieberman appears to be this year's Cinderella. According to the polls, Lieberman's Yisrael Beiteinu party is likely to increase its Knesset presence from three seats to at least nine, and possibly as many as 12.
This is hardly the most flattering thing to happen to Israeli democracy.
So, who is Avigdor Lieberman? He immigrated from Moldova to Israel in 1978, when he was 20. Within a few years of finishing university, he became involved in politics, eventually becoming secretary of Likud. He served as Bibi Netanyahu's major-domo during the latter's term as prime minister.
In 1999, Lieberman split with Likud and formed Yisrael Beiteinu - which means Israel Our Home - as a party appealing mainly to immigrants from the former Soviet Union.
Elected to the Knesset in 2001 and again in 2003, Lieberman held a number of positions in the Sharon government before resigning over the issue of Gaza withdrawal in 2004.
Currently, the party seems to be drawing votes not just from his traditional constituency of native Russian speakers but also from many former Likud voters who think Kadima is too soft.
Lieberman has a rather fearful reputation. Part of that comes from his bear-like physique and his creepy, Vladimir Putin-like emotionlessness.
Although definitely rightwing politically, he is more of a brutalist than an ideologue. The issue of greater Israel is important to him (he is one of the few Knesset members who actually lives in a West Bank settlement), but less important than issues of demography.
Yisrael Beiteinu's popularity comes more from Lieberman's ideas about Israel's Arab minority. Over the years, rightwing fringe parties have proposed a policy of "transferring" Israel's Arab citizens to neighbouring Arab countries.
The idea - patently illegal and morally reprehensible - is to protect Israel's Jewish character.
In the current campaign, two parties are proposing ways to "solve" the Arab problem. One proposes to do this by force, the other by encouraging Arab emigration using bribes and incentives.
Lieberman, by contrast, has a novel but no less legally dubious solution. He proposes to redraw Israel's boundaries to transfer control of large Arab border towns such as Umm el-Fahem to the Palestinians. No one has to move physically, and Israel solves its demographic problem. Easy peasy.
I need to emphasise that Lieberman's ideas in no way represent mainstream Israeli political thinking. In his most optimistic scenarios, he may get 10% of the vote.
However, a depressingly large number of people seem to agree with him on a gut level, even if they don't actively support his policies.
Lieberman personifies the unease that has always existed between Israel's Jewish and Arab citizens - the same kind of ethnic tension you find in many places in Europe and in the US, but complicated by the fact that most Israeli Arabs identify culturally and nationally with the Palestinians.
As such, a lot of Israeli Jews suspect Israeli Arabs of harbouring dual loyalties (it should be pointed out, in all fairness, that Israeli Arab MPs contribute greatly to this sense of unease with their constant radical demagoguery).
In some sectors of Israeli society, the concept of equal rights for all citizens becomes rather blurry.
Ideas such as "transfer lite", or requiring everyone to take an oath of loyalty to the state, start taking root. This is Lieberman's territory.
Who knows? The polls may be wrong about his support. For all our sakes, I hope so.
