/ BARAK / 19 Chapter Nineteen A few hours before Haim Ramon introduced his no-confidence resolution, he came to see me in my office in the Knesset. He was worried. Not about the vote, but about what would come after. “Ehud, I’m sure we can topple the government,” he told me. “But only you know whether we’re ready — whether you ’re ready — to defeat Bibi in an election.” “T’m ready,” I said. “We are going to win.” Few agreed. In fact, there had been times during my first year-and-a-half as Labor leader when I wondered if I’d be able to hang on to the job. I was in charge of a party whose grassroots were on the left. I was, by intellect and instinct, a pragmatist and a centrist. I did share Labor’s vision of a socially just and democratic Israel. Especially after seeing far-right rabbis egg on the fanaticism that ultimately killed Yitzhak Rabin, I felt strongly that we needed to separate organized religion from our day-to-day politics. But I’d been raised with a deeper respect for our Jewish traditions than many on the left. Right after Yitzhak’s murder, I’d gone to see Zevulun Hammer, the leader of the National Religious Party. It had been part of both Labor and Likud governments ever since 1948, though not Rabin’s. The NRP, too, had been drifting steadily rightward. But it still basically subscribed the idea of a strong, democratic Israel under the rule of law. I wanted to bring the NRP back into the government under Peres, as part of the widest possible political alliance against the assassination and the campaign of hatred that had fostered it. Sadly that didn’t happen, in part because of the anger against all Orthodox politicians after Rabin’s murder. Yet in my readiness to engage politically with Orthodox leaders who did not reject the very idea of peace negotiations — whether in the NRP, or the increasingly influential Sephardi religious party, Shas — I was outside Labor’s mainstream, and its comfort zone. On my approach to peace as well, I differed from ma