Actor and director Oded Kotler struggled to find his composure on Monday during his interview with Channel 2's Yonit Levi. He had a way out; he should have just owned up to his statement by saying: "I disparaged the million or so voters who voted for Likud, comparing them to cattle, and I apologize for that." But his appearance was an insult to viewers. What's truly frightening is that on Sunday, when Kotler made his derogatory comments, no one in the audience stood up in protest; no one walked out on him to express dissent over his unabashed attack on Culture and Sport Minister Miri Regev and her supporters. The Left is lucky to have authors Amos Oz, A.B. Yehoshua and David Grossman, who were willing to step up to the plate. By taking issue with Kotler's statement, they saved the entire camp from disgrace. Artists, politicians, psychologists and journalists are among the protagonists in this ongoing Israeli Kulturkampf, and they should continue fighting so long as their vocal cords are intact. Ultimately, it all boils down to two bad options: to censor productions such as "Jenin, Jenin" -- the controversial Mohammad Bakri movie alleging an Israeli massacre in Jenin -- or to side with artistic freedom, even if this means letting them spread their lies. In 1994, when the Motti Lerner play "Kastner," about Hungarian-Jewish leader Rudolf Kastner, was made into a television docudrama, the High Court of Justice rejected a petition to take out a segment that cast the famed Jewish paratrooper Hannah Szenes in an embarrassing light. The principle of artistic freedom prevailed. After the court handed down its ruling, Supreme Court President Aharon Barak made a personal appeal to Lerner, asking him whether he would agree to take out the controversial part and he agreed. This case was resolved in exemplary fashion. Apart from Kotler's statement, there are two other ongoing controversies. The first involves a play called "A Parallel Time," which is based on the life story of Walid Daqa, an Israeli Arab who killed Israeli soldier Moshe Tamam in 1984. The second controversy relates to a film about Yigal Amir, who assassinated Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin in 1995. The film is expected to compete in the upcoming Jerusalem Film Festival. Any ministerial decision to withhold funding for those two productions would be welcomed by Israelis by and large. Ministers have every right to do so, and Regev has recently said she might withhold funding for the Jerusalem Film Festival, perhaps in order to keep people guessing as to her future decisions. Perhaps she wants to show that she is not singling out left-wing productions. Regardless, Regev's ratings will probably rise among party loyalists thanks to her populist posture. (Senior Citizens Minister Gila Gamliel has taken issue with her grandstanding, however.) But Regev's actions are unwarranted. Ultimately, the proper place to handle such lies and falsities is in the media, the coffee shops, and the theaters themselves. Politicians should not decide their fate through some administrative fiat. There are some wrongs that I would like to right. The new "Lexicon of Hebrew Authors" (printed by Mifal Hapais, a government agency) makes no mention of Naomi Shemer, Shabtai Teveth and Shlomo Skolski. But I wouldn't want Regev to use her prerogative to change that. Likewise, I take issue with Education Minister Naftali Bennett's move to overturn, with a stroke of a pen, a ministerial committee's decision on state subsidies for plays -- despite the committee being wrong on the merits. I believe it is best to live with uncomfortable decisions than to let politicians run the show. It is thanks to Kotler (and those who misspoke before him -- artist Yair Garbuz and actress Anat Waxman) that politicians have been able to make such highly popular decisions. That is too bad. They may have good intentions, but it may lead to a slippery slope.