14/6/96

Mrs. Netanyahu's Kitchen Cabinet

The new prime minister discovers that necessity is the invention of mothers.

    The new prime minister sat in his cozy brown chair. It's just a job, he kept telling himself, and then he'd grin, pummel his desk with his fists and say, the hell it is!
    So far, it hadn't been too difficult. Sure, there were challenges ahead, but at least for now, for his first few moments of glory, he was going to enjoy it as much as --
    "Someone to see you, sir."
    Not already! The new pee-em sank into his chair a bit. Probably Levy, he sighed. He knew it was coming, but so soon? He cleared his throat. "Send the gentleman in," he said confidently.
    "But sir...."
    In walked his mother.
    "Ma!"
    "Sit up straight. And change your tie, a prime minister doesn't wear yellow. You ate breakfast?
    "An egg. Ma, what are you doing here?"
    "You're going to need all the help you can get. There's sharks out there, and you're nebich still wet behind the ears, to quote your father, and I've been around, you know, I'm an expert negotiator --"
    He rolled his eyes. "Like, you were ever an ambassador to the United Nations?"
    His mother chafed. "You remember I was on the residents' committee? And did you ever see me walk out of the shuk with a bag of vegetables I paid full price for? There she goes, they'd say, tough but fair. The best negotiator in the neighborhood. So that's why you need me. When that door opens..."
    "It won't. I took the day off."
    The door swung open, and a man with a beard and a hat walked in. "So how goes the coalition?" he asked the new national leader.
    "Nothing yet," the peoples' choice responded amiably. "I've penciled that in for next week."
    It was like the man didn't hear. "We want Finance, Housing, Defense and Environment, but we're willing to compromise and let someone else have Environment."
    "Is that all?" The response, sarcastic and confrontational, surprised the visitor, because it came from an old lady who he was certain was not the new prime minister.
    The PM remembered his manners. "Rabbi Deri, my mother. Ma -- Rabbi Deri." They nodded at each other. "Take a seat, rabbi. My mother was just on her way to the shuk."
    "Tell you what," she said to Deri, "You can have Energy and a million shekels. Fair, no?" 
    "Ma!"
    "I'll take it," said Gandhi as he walked in. "If you throw in Defense and a promise not to give up territory."
    "Who's he?" asked the mother.
    "He's not getting Defense unless I get Finance," said Raful, appearing out of nowhere.
    "But I want Finance!" said Hammer, who came running when he heard Porush was on the way. Porush was a few steps behind. "But you promised me!" he shouted from down the hall.
    Mrs. Netanyahu glared at her son. "Did you promise this gentleman Finance? Tell me the truth."
    The son was fidgeting in his cozy brown chair. "Yes -- and no. You don't understand, Ma. It was a political promise. He wasn't supposed to believe me."
    She turned to the still huffing, puffing Porush. "Sir, you will be the finance minister. And you, there -- what's your name?"
    "Uh, Gandhi."
    "That's a Jewish name? No matter; you can't have Energy and Defense and cash, because it's greedy. You there, in the back, who are you?"
    "Kahalani, Ma'am, from the Third Way."
    "Pleased to meet you. You'll be in charge of sports, you look like a soccer player. Anybody want Transport? The truck driver over there, the one who looks like Arik, what's your name?"
    "Arik. But frankly, I was hoping for better."
    "Take what you can get. Who are you?" she said to a thin, dark-skinned man by the door.
    "The cleaner, Ma'am. I've come to vacuum."
    "Good. You'll be my Environment Minister. Now: which of you rabbis would like Religious Affairs?"
    The national leader had had enough. "Thank you, Ma, I can take it from here." He led her through the crowded room just as Levy stepped in.
    "Hi, guys. What's going on?" 
    "Coalition stuff, David," Mrs. Netanyahu told him. "So if you don't mind, we're very busy." A mother never forgets nasty things someone says about her son.
    Levy looked worried. "Anybody get the Foreign Ministry yet?"
    "I have somebody in mind," the First Mother-elect said. "The little Russian fellow, what's his name?"
    Her vexed son gasped. "Sharansky?!"
    "That's the one. He's perfect. He looks like a foreigner."
    "But Ma, that's not how it works!"
    "It's a new system. I thought it out very carefully, and it makes sense."
    A hubbub arose. Everybody spoke at once. Nobody was pleased. "This is madness!" said this one; "Who's running this country anyway?" said that.
    "What about my list of demands?"
    "If I don't get Interior I'll ... I'll quit!"
    "With her logic, I should get Housing because I have a house."
    Mrs. Netanyahu was beginning to perspire. This is not so easy, she said to herself. She sat down. "Is anybody here a doctor?"
    Her son raced to her side. "Ma, are you okay?" The place fell silent.
    She waved him away. "We need a health minister, that's all. For that I need a doctor. And a lawyer for Justice."
    "Ahmed Tibi for health minister!" said some smart alec.
    "We should get a tourist to be tourism minister," said another.
    "Hammer in Construction!"
    "Levy the Tax Commissioner!"
    "Ha, ha, ha!"
    "Silvan Shalom for peace negotiator! Matza for Pessah!"
    "Ha, ha, ha!"
    "Enough!" somebody hollered authoritatively. This startled everyone, because it was their leader hollering, not his mother.
    "Enough already! Our nation's future is at stake here, and all you can do is quibble and tell jokes." He turned to his dear mother. "Ma, I don't tell you what to make for supper, you don't tell me how to run a country. I got the votes, I won the election, I'm in charge, so I will decide. Is that clear?!"
    She hung her head. "Yes, dear." She sniffed. "I was just trying to help." She dabbed her eyes with a tissue. The son embraced his aged mother affectionately, and everyone in the room smiled.
    Mrs. Netanyahu looked upon her fabulously successful son and beamed proudly. "You know," she said, "When you were a little boy, I always knew what's best for you. But who knows -- now you're the most important man in the world, maybe you can make your own decisions."
    "Thanks, Ma."
    "Just promise me one thing, yingele."
    "Yes, Ma."
    "I don't want to be pushy or anything, but I think I can help a little. You know, be involved. In my own way."
    "But of course! After all, there's so much to be done."
    "Good," she said. "So I will be Speaker of the House."