“Democracy?” Father says. “If anyone dares to open his mouth now…they’ll swallow us alive. To begin with, they’ve always said we sold ourselves to the Jews. But that’s what all sorts of MKs and sheikhs wanted around here, right? Well, they got what they wanted, didn’t they? Let’s hear any of them say anything about his new government.”
“It’s better than the Jewish shit,” my younger brother blurts out. He sounds militant.
My father looks at him, his eyes ablaze. “Shut up, you. You don’t have a clue. And I don’t know what even gives you the right to talk.” My father is shouting now. He seems very tense. “Have you asked yourself what’s going to happen to your studies? Where will you continue studying? Where will you work anyhow? Have you given it any thought? That’s assuming your new state has courts to begin with.”
“At least we won’t have every dog thinking he’s king,” my younger brother says. “At least when the police come in and enforce the law, those heroes with their weapons will see what law and order is all about. Just wait till those big-shot delinquents get a taste of the security forces now. We’ll see what happens to all their machismo.”
“Shut up,” Father tells him. “Shut your trap.”
My younger brother shuts up.
“What about the banks?” my older brother asks.
They’re saying on TV that about one hundred thousand Israeli Arabs living in Haifa, in Jaffa and in other mixed cities will remain in Israel, but with Palestinian papers, and they’ll vote in the Palestinian Authority elections. They’ll be like temporary residents, like foreign workers. There’s talk of reparations too, and of how the new Palestinians will be received in the warm embrace of their mother state.
My mobile phone rings. It’s my editor-in-chief. “Congratulations,” he says. “Well, are you people happy now? You’ve got a state of your own. Just kidding…. Listen, I’d like you to write something for us.”
“Okay, sure.”
“Actually, I’d like you to be our man in Palestine. You’ve got excellent Hebrew, and we need someone to report back to us from there now.”
“Okay.”
“In any case, I’d like a story for tomorrow. Even a thousand words, about the transfer of authority. You know, until two hours ago there was a gag order, so today’s papers have nothing. Feel free to tell it all, including maybe a few lines of your private take on this. Give it a personal touch, maybe in the lead-in, or else at the end.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’ll be in touch with you later. I’ll let you know what happens at the meeting. I think it ought to work out. Listen, there might be a bit of a problem with the pay, because we’re into drastic budget cuts, so it won’t be the way it was before, but your cost of living is going to be much lower now anyway, isn’t it?”