Israel's Quiet Crisis

Nothing much happened here in Israel last week, which was something of a surprise to most Israelis, who were expecting big, dramatic, perhaps cataclysmic developments after Prime Minister Ariel Sharon was incapacitated by a massive stroke. Sharon, ever stubborn, lived on, breathing a little, responding reflexively to pokes and proddings from his physicians--and so there was no state funeral, no national emotional catharsis, no clear transfer of power. But more important, there was no political confusion or panic. Leadership was quietly assumed by Sharon's deputy, Ehud Olmert. "Here we are in the midst of a revolution in Israeli politics," Avi Dichter, former director of Shin Bet, Israel's domestic security agency, told me. "Our great national leader is crippled--and there is no crisis. Power is passed quietly. Our enemies don't stir. Our stock market barely moves. It says a lot for the strength of our democracy."

Olmert's elegant and noiseless assumption of power last week was a singularly un-Israeli sort of act: a dog that didn't bark in a prohibitively raucous canine nation. His public gestures were tasteful. He refused to sit in Sharon's seat at the first Cabinet meeting or use Sharon's office. He gave no interviews, a real departure for a politician who had served as the Prime Minister's talk-radio pit bull. He traded his famously dreadful orange ties for blue and black stripes. He was not seen smoking one of his beloved cigars. He looked very much the leader.

Privately, Olmert, 60, has acted with dispatch to unite Kadima, the centrist party that Sharon created last year. Shimon Peres, the former Labor Prime Minister whose jump to Kadima had given it credibility, made some tiny noises about taking over but soon accepted the reality of his advanced age (he is 82) and anachronistic left-wing politics and fell into line behind Olmert. The other Kadima heavyweights followed. Minister of Justice Tzipi Livni, 47, a rising star with the highest poll ratings of any politician in Israel, immediately announced her support for Olmert, even though the two had been rivals for Sharon's favor. "I called [Olmert] that first night," Livni told me, "and said, 'Listen, we're now going to work together. You have my complete support.' I've spoken with him every day since." Olmert apparently told Livni she would become Foreign Minister, as Sharon had promised her, and Deputy Prime Minister in the new Kadima government. One week after Sharon's incapacitation, Olmert had answered the most important question in Israeli public life: Would Kadima fall apart without his leadership? It held together, for the moment, and Olmert has passed his first major political test. But there will be far more difficult tests to come.