The prisoner's dilemma on a day of a terror attack

The suicide bombing in an Eilat bakery a few hours ago raised a dilemma that has been lying dormant in me for quite some time.

A reasonable, rational human being would be thankful for staying as far as possible from the scene of an explosion when it is taking place. The price paid by the ordinary citizen - that of spending hours before the TV or listening to the radio - is considered by most a fair deal. The alternative of being a witness, or much worse, a victim, will not be taken up with gratitude by anyone.

And yet, as someone who has only experienced the so-called sane, detached end of the bargain, I feel that it is the wrong place to be. No, I am not possessed by a death wish. No, I do not thrive on claiming for myself a part of 'real action' or think it 'cool' to do such a thing. But I do believe that the consumption of media coverage in the aftermath of terror attacks is training most of us to keep our heads tucked deep into the sands of a desensitized existence.

One can be lead to believe that one is immune to this mess of flames and broken glass, the cries of the wounded and the silence of the dead. This indifference persists even when attacks hit progressively closer to home, as long as they do not hit one's person or loved-ones.

It has become a cliché to say that the best counter-terrorism policy is to maintain an ordinary life and to prevent the attacks from derailing daily routine. Granted, the civil effort in the war against terrorism requires a sizeable dose of indifference and a hardened conscious. But there is a very fine line that should not be crossed into the realms of oblivion in putting up this brave face.

I can attest that it is far from easy not to cross this line and tread the tricky soil of 'business as usual' under fire. But the alternative is to have the skies falling on your head one day at your very own back yard.

In the myriad of commentaries written and spoken about the ludicrous defensive speech of President Moshe Katsav, the advocates of the defendant-to-be won relatively little attention.

Advocate Tzion Amir, who attended the televised event, and Prof. David Libai, who spared himself the dubious pleasure, are now more than likely huddled in their offices poring over the new evidence sent from the Attorney General's office. As is probably customary for them, they are immersing themselves in the painstaking job of constructing the best line of defense possible for their client.

This immersion, other than serving the task for which they are being paid, is likely to serve a personal purpose shared by the two venerable legal experts: Washing off the memory of Wednesday's speech.

The attorneys have not been blessed with the cleverest of clients, to be sure, and this has clearly been taken into account in their strategy. It is doubtful whether Katsav consulted with his current lawyers before inviting AG Menachem Mazuz to his presidential residence to complain that he has been subjected to a blackmail attempt by a former employee. There is no other reasonable explanation for the quick change in roles from complainant to suspect but legal short-sightedness, which Amir and Libai could not be believed to possess.

Over the past six months, Katsav and his representatives have been repeating the same mantra over and over again, oblivious to the reality that changed before their very eyes. From what was described as a bitter, unstable young woman making a desperate dash at smearing her former employer, testimonies by new complainants kept piling up next to fresh evidence of other suspicions – some sexually-tinged, others reeking of sheer corruption.

Mazuz's announcement of his intention to charge Katsav with extremely severe offences, including rape, was the gong chime for the president. If anything, his decision not to keep silent anymore and speak his heart before the entire nation, was a solid proof to his detractors: President Moshe Katsav cannot control his impulses.

The bearer of the position that is most symbolic of the Israeli democracy should know better. The person vested with the task of projecting reconciliation and poise to a nation that is made up of that many political, ethnic and social divisions should be able to maintain his composure and let the facts speak for themselves in court. But no – Katsav could no longer bear to keep his wrath within. He had to lash out. And so he did.

If such a thing can be said, the impeccably-girded figure of Tzion Amir could not hide the evident urge to bump his head repeatedly in the nearest solid wall. The speech was not written by him, it could not have been. Katsav let his passion dictate the bitter, unruly and far-fetched accusations at any-thing and any-one in the Israelite kingdom but he, its unblemished Presidente.

With the hearing still in store before an indictment can finally be served against their client, Amir and Libai have a long way to go before the legal trench warfare will commence at the Jerusalem District Court. They've been there before, they will go there again after the trial is long completed. But they will not get away with one thing – lamenting the self-defeating utter stupidity of their number one client, who is still (to our great shame) our number one citizen.

Seeing that coverage and analysis of the inept Israeli leadership has been written to death, the times call for constructive thinking. Therefore, the question to be asked is how on earth the State of Israel keeps functioning?

With a prime minister, treasurer, justice minister and president under police investigations, a defense minister out of sorts and a Tax Authority chief in handcuffs, Israel continues to turn on its daily orbit relatively unfazed.

Fending off terrorist activity, collecting tax revenue, signing big-deal businesses, even enforcing some of its laws, the question need be asked: How and thanks to whom?

Despite the inevitable Marxist overtones, I believe that the answer lies with the dictionary definition of the term Middle Class.

Under this entry, we find the people who are intermediaries between aristocracy and the poor. Those who go to work, earn a day's pay, and go home to lead an 'ordinary life.' And it is this behavioral pattern of getting up for work, doing one's job, and maintaining an equitable family life, which is saving this country right now.

It is the Middle Class-minded individuals across all sectors, business, civil service and armed forces alike, who just keep at what they were assigned to do, who care not for easy money or dirty-shortcuts-obtained-at-a-handshake-under-bridges-late-at-night, who are the backbone of this country.

This is not a cliché, certainly not at a time when the golden calf is standing erect at the main square of every major city; when the only happiness/success index is one's net worth and gross investments; when one's house and car stand for one's social persona.

Despite this pervasive mentality, there are enough people in a sufficient number of key positions who care the most about getting their job done. It is those individuals who are keeping Israel intact as a network of mutually-inclusive checks and balances.

The only problem with this idyllic picture of decent-folk-working-shoulder-to-shoulder-to-save-the-country, is that their life is being made more and more impossible.

Oodles have been written on the unfair tax system, on the absence of incentives for bright young people to stay here, on the deteriorating education system, the hapless and helpless police force that leaves civilians to their own device facing violent crime.

Having at least one question answered – who is keeping Israel on its orbit – the next quandary now hangs in the air: How can the impossibility of being part of the Middle Class be dissolved?

This is yet to be discerned. The sooner – the better for us all.

The biography of U.S. Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice is known to all. Her credentials are impressive to say the least, and her service alongside President George W. Bush has been persistent and loyal.

But as I watched her speak earlier this week, I asked myself what is the weight that Ms Rice gives her statements and what relation they bear to her diplomatic actions.

Rice spoke twice yesterday: At a joint press conference with PA Chairman Mahmoud Abbas, and in a one-on-one interview with Channel 10's Chico Menashe. Very well spoken, almost amicable, and letting the fragility of her voice show, she said nothing we have not heard before. This fact is so radical, that it would not surprise me if her speech and interview could be reconstructed word for word from past statements she had made on the conflict in the Middle East.

"Our commitment to the Middle East process," "The parties must understand," "The war against terrorism," are only the most obvious examples.

On the other hand, the time of Ms Rice is very precious. She would not trouble herself across the Atlantic merely to voice in the ears of local leaders the same formulae they've heard before on the media along with ordinary citizens.

This means there is a gap here – between what is said on the media, and what we (assume) is said and done behind closed doors.

And in this gap the cold reality exists.

The Palestinians are wallowing in their anarchy, the Israelis are basking in their complacency, and neither will budge unless some extraneous force compels them to do so.

We all know that violence is not going to be made to vanish with a magic wand. We know that the true obstacle on the road to an agreement is a lack of resolve on the part of both Israeli and Palestinian leaders. As a highly intelligent diplomat, Rice knows this too, surely.

She also knows just as clearly, that by limiting the American involvement in the conflict to the monitoring of worthless gestures and pointless mid-tier deliberations, the Israeli-Palestinian dialogue will not leapfrog to the stage of genuine peace negotiations.

I do not understand then why she feels compelled to collaborate with this glass-wall policy. Why there needs to be a skyscraper of international diplomacy: With its tinted windows, it says nothing new because it does nothing new, yet no one is allowed to enter it and witness the vacuity.

Although her presidential candidacy is still pure speculation, Rice is inevitably eyeing the coveted top job. As such, maybe she needs a reminder of the suffragettes’ movement famous slogan.

Deeds, not words.

The news has reached their much-dreaded lull. The pace of hair-raising reports has abated, and over at Haaretz we are at a loss. What's happened to the adrenaline rush of the Disengagement? The bloodless faces of shifts during the second Lebanon War? The President facing grave accusations of sexual misconduct?

And, I might add, this despair spreads at a time when the head of the Tax Authority is in custody on suspicion of very shady dealings; the Prime Minister, Defense Minister and IDF Chief are awaiting the conclusions of the Winograd Commission on the Second Lebanon War; and the list can go on and on.

But what troubles me about this lull is the befuddlement with which it leaves us, newsmakers. We have no blood to deliver in our pipelines. The edge of the razor we hold at the public's throats has blunted, and we face an unknown future that may hold a full week bereft of a petrified audience.

We know not what to do as "mere" watchdogs; we feel that colorful feature stories spread along six pages rather than one are not News but puny entertainment. And not entertainers are we, oh no.

I know. It's naïve to think the media is engined by a genuine concern for the general good. We need a marketable product, and the scarier it is the easier it is to sell. All the same, could it be that the reason for the marketable ease of high drama and tragedy are also the result of a consistent, unrelenting indoctrination by the media?

This respite offers a splendid opportunity to reassess what we, newsmakers, seek to achieve in our reportage; where we want to turn our spotlights; what we want our audiences to know about the life that's taking place around them. Bottom line is that money needn't be the only bottom line.

Perpetrators of nationalistic violence are encouraged by vast coverage and the hysterics that inevitably ensues; the black-and-red headlines are the best reward the media can offer them. The grief of those who lost their loved-ones in the course of life (road accidents, illnesses, and crime) is no less overwhelming or acute. Why must their grievance weigh any less on the media's scales?

Life furnishes us with countless events every second. Theoretically, anything can become a news item. What distinguishes a bland incident from a media report is the criterion of news-worthiness. By reassessing our news-worthy stories we can establish a more consistent flow of reports instead of riding the rollercoaster of 'hard' and 'soft' news.

My model is financial news: The mere fact that something has happened warrants its becoming a news item. Certainly, at times the headlines will scream Crisis or Mega Deal Signed, but these will not disrupt the confident flow of news every day. A daily newspaper can therefore become more civil/ian: Take issue with social injustice and environmental hazards; integrate the arts into the fabric of the publication rather than sending it to exile in specialist supplements; follow more closely the routine work of parliamentarians and government agencies.

Our revolution can be velvetted in a gradual process of integration. No need for banners raised high or fists brandished with scythes and hammers. They will simply generate a new black-and-red headline.