Tel Aviv will never change

Gideon Zarechansky and I were born in the same city; it's here that we were raised, and it's here that we have chosen to continue living our lives. We bring up our children in exactly the same city. Zarechansky is of the city's flesh and blood. I can remember my older brothers regaling stories of the cool teenager with the savviest musical inclinations, and I recall spending much time with this Zarechansky kid cruising around the city's club scene.

So I was pretty shocked to see Gideon Sa'ar (the former Zarechansky) put all that history behind him and decide to stab in the back the very city in which he grew up. Ordering the city's markets to close on Shabbat is a very complex issue that involves concepts such as socialism, freedom of religion, hoggish capitalism and more. But all of this has nothing to do with the callousness of Sa'ar decision-making process. Sa'ar, like any practiced politician, did what he did for his own personal benefit, first and foremost. Sa'ar's fantasy envisages a day very soon when he'll be prime minister, and militant steps like this send positive signals to the religious sector and render Tel Aviv a pilot in the wider program the interior minister has hiding in his bag.

For if Sa'ar had in fact been looking for a just solution, he would have suggested that small shop owners be allowed to open their doors, of their own volition, over the weekend, without having to fear Shabbat-specific fines, rather than simply allowing the larger supermarket chains to sell their products for higher prices on the weekly Sabbath. It is obviously unfair to issue the same fine to a family-owned market as to the larger supermarket chain operating across the street.

After all, who knows better than Sa'ar -- sauntering through Hayarkon Park to the beach on Saturday with his wife and son, purchasing cold beverages from one of the park peddlers -- that Shabbat is indeed a special time in Tel Aviv. It is a day on which every individual can indulge his own passions. Actually, that's precisely what residents of the "state of Tel Aviv" do throughout the rest of the week, as well. That's why Tel Aviv got the nickname "the Bubble," making it the most desirable place to live anywhere in the nation.

Sa'ar exploited the emasculated Israeli Left, which has been imploding for several years. A strong Meretz would have never let something like this pass, but Meretz has long been subjugated to Tel Aviv Mayor Ron Huldai, who's been having a hard time keeping up with Sa'ar's aggressiveness.

Tel Avivians have threatened not to vote for Gideon Sa'ar in the upcoming elections, which is beyond silly. A quick glance at the distribution of municipal seats throughout Tel Aviv reveals that the city hasn't been a Likud stronghold in anything related to municipal elections for the last 20 years.

So yes, the issue is pretty complex, but Sa'ar's measure was obviously superficial and smells foul. It's success is very doubtful. Tel Aviv, as the young Zarechansky could recollect, has managed to slough off each and every individual or institution that has tried to alter its unique fiber. It will stay open on Shabbat, it will continue to be a leading tourist destination and, most importantly, one day we'll have a mayor bold enough to ensure public transportation on Shabbat, as well.

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