Most of us don’t actually think another election is a good idea. But a little part of me secretly craves one.
I don’t know about you, but I love seeing the pictures people post of themselves voting. What I find most remarkable is that olim who have been here 30 or 40 years seem just as excited as they were the first time they voted. I made aliyah a little over 18 years ago and I’m just as excited as I was then. I keep going back to a video my son posted on our family WhatsApp group of my four-year-old grandson placing his father’s envelope in the ballot box. I’ve watched it more times than I would like to admit. I love election day and I’m sure most Israelis reading this will agree. It’s hard to convey to our friends and family back where we came from how we really feel on this day.
For me. it’s a holy day no less than any other on the Jewish calendar. The zechut we’ve been given brings immense gratitude to Hashem. Alongside that comes the intensity of the obligation to do our part in charting the future of the State of Israel. That combination is awesome. I mean that the way my generation used the word and not the way my kids use it today. In a world that so often lacks real meaning we crave the feeling we have on Election Day which in and of itself is a gift as well.
Every morning after minyan, our shul’s rabbi gives a short three-minute Dvar Halacha. Yesterday, he spoke about whether one can say Shehechiyanu when voting. He said no for technical reasons. He suggested that anyone who really wants to say the blessing wear a new article of clothing that would require it. But as I often say - in Judaism, the questions are much more interesting than the answers. The very fact that the question gets asked points to a religious event like no other. On Sukkot, most say Shehechiyanu because that’s what we do. But on Election Day, people feel a real need to mark the moment in a religious way because of everything it represents.
The mitzvah of voting
That same rabbi spoke on Shabbat about how voting fulfills part of many mitzvot. Most important is yishuv haaretz, settling the land. Yishuv haaretz isn’t something that was done only in the past. Every way we continue to build and improve the State fulfills it. When we say Shehechiyanu at other points in the year, the moment can feel far away and we may not feel as much a part of it as we want to be. But the opportunity we have in Israel to partner with Hashem and create our own future makes us feel like we’re right in the middle of the story.
It’s also such a refreshing and joyous day here. It’s a day off for most people so families go out much like on Independence Day. Mine spent much of the day at the Jerusalem zoo and the festive nature of the day was palpable.
Who people voted for obviously matters, but for a little while it takes a back seat to the sense that we’re all in this together and all doing the identical act to improve all of our lots. That’s powerfully unifying. The zoo was a microcosm of what could be. The Arab standing next to me probably didn’t vote for the same party I did. The same goes for the haredi person on the other side and the secular person next to her. But there we all were looking at the same elephants and lions with our children and grandchildren in the holy city of Jerusalem on a joyous and peaceful day.
Maybe someday (the way things are now it’s probably far off) the assumptions about who voted for whom won’t be as obvious as they are today.
My family was from Riga, Latvia. On November 30 and December 8, 1941, they were forced to march from the ghetto to Rumbula forest a few miles away and were cruelly massacred along with 25,000 of their fellow residents. I’ve been to Rumbula twice. Before each of my four sons’ bar mitzvahs I took them on a Tiyul Shorashim (roots trip) to the places where the people they were named for came from. Three of those four sons are now combat soldiers in the IDF. Two are in the reserves and one is an officer in his regular service.
As those dates approach I shudder at how stark the contrast is. My family was marched to their deaths with no one to defend them. They most likely never imagined there would one day be a State of Israel and that people from their own family would be the ones protecting it. I’m not alone. Many of us have similar family stories. Most of us can’t be combat soldiers but we can all do our share to make sure Israel is strong and proud. Election Day is when I most feel that call.
So do I want another election? No. Neither do most of us. But I’d be lying if I said a little part of me didn’t wish Election Day came around more often.
The writer is the founder and dean of the Barkai Center for Practical Rabbinics and Community Development in Modi’in, training a new generation of communal rabbinic leaders in Israel while mobilizing over four million shekels in humanitarian aid for soldiers, widows, and families affected by the current war.