Israel is a piece of land smaller than an Italian region, but it is the only state in the world whose existence is openly questioned. The south is under siege with the Hamas regime on the southwest and the beheaders of the Sinai on the south. The north swells with fear, waiting for Hezbollah and Iran to fire thousands of missiles on the fertile Galilee. On the east you have Jordan, the precarious front trying to hold its own before the Islamic State. In the middle you have the Palestinian Arabs of Judea and Samaria, increasingly impatient to have their chance to slaughter the Zionists. On the west there is the only quiet border: the Mediterranean Sea.

Yet, Israel appears tranquil and happy. 

It is the paradox of one of the most beleaguered and happy states in the world. A survey by the Pew Center has revealed that 59 percent of Israelis are satisfied with their country, against, for example, 33 percent of Americans (not to mention the depressed Europeans). And if you compare the fertility rates and the suicide rates of Israel with that of all other industrialized countries, the Jewish State is the first in the ranking of nations which most love life.

In the election campaign between Netanyahu’s Likud and Herzog’s Zionist Union, there was not much talk of the ayatollah's uranium centrifuges, a Third Intifada, boycotts and anti-Semitism in Europe, relations with America, ISIS' Caliphate, UN resolutions, nor of the success of the speech that Prime Minister Netanyahu gave at the US Congress.

Instead, there were diatribes against Bibi by former heads of the Mossad and former generals. But it seems Israelis don’t like disloyalty by retired IDF personnel and bureaucrats who were never elected.

Completely irrelevant, although repeated over and over by the Zionist Union, was the issue of the economy, since Israel has recorded a growth of 2.6 percent in 2014 and for 2015 is expected to have an even higher jump. Netanyahu has made the country richer, more dynamic, more open to investment. All wages have risen, including those of public teachers. 

Nobody talked about negotiations with the Palestinians, since each party had its own platform that oscillated between bankruptcy and unrealistic ideas: the Zionist Union was for two states and was willing to divide Jerusalem; Likud gave voice to the majority skepticism about the real will of the Palestinians; Jewish Home is for annexation, but only of Area C with all “the settlements”; Lapid's Yesh Atid  wanted a “divorce” from the Arabs, but also to keep united Jerusalem; Kulanu’s Moshe Kahlon avoided even naming the problem; Yisrael Beytenu Lieberman is for territorial exchanges; Meretz is for the lines of 1967. 

No, forget all that, the election campaign was dominated by the history of bottles. After all, Sarah Netanyahu collected empty bottles from the residence of the prime minister and allegedly kept the proceeds.  

Then there was the scandal of the carpet, the cost of Bibi’s ice cream and the special beds that the prime minister asked to install during the flight back from Washington.

The political banality which reverberated in this election campaign, is hiding something unique among Western countries:

Israeli normality is essentially abnormal, it is rooted in something darkly traumatic. The true face of Israel’s security and invulnerability are insecurity and vulnerability.

The Israelis talked about Bibi’s carpet so as not to think about the new Masada. The Israelis are conscious of their own strength, today as yesterday, but they appear hardened, they feel increasingly isolated in an indifferent world and sense with Obama in the White House that even America is increasingly remote.

All this gossip, all this thoughtlessness, is the dividing line that separates Israel from the Arab-Islamic world. Palestinian society does not go to the cinema or restaurant, it is focused on the war, in the streets as in the diplomatic arena. Israeli society is different. It wants to live. 

The current Israeli indifference can be compared to the period between 1967 and 1973. After the victory of June, 1967, the country worshiped the biblical golden calf, the rampant consumerism led from the Bar-Lev line on the Suez Canal to the night clubs in Tel Aviv. No one took seriously the movements of Arab troops on the canal and on the Golan (today it is the Iranian centrifuges). There was arrogance throughout the country.

Then came October 6, 1973, the breaking through of the lines, the anguish of not being able to “hold” them, the fear of being driven back into the sea. After the victory, the Israelis appeared more mature, like someone who has suffered an illness. 

Since then, the possibility of disappearing consistently dominates the consciousness of every Israeli. This fragile condition has made Israel the light unto the nations. 

But it is also why the average Israeli feels better when he gets to take a look into Bibi’s living room. Because he himself lives far better. Because it looks like he is living in a normal country.

But bottles and carpets do not affect the way he votes.