Abstract
It was clear to me that there was something strangely wrong with Israel's Right on the night of the first mass protest against the Israel-PLO accord. One hundred thousand people, perhaps two, were jammed into the roads around the Knesset in Jerusalem, that night in September 1993, still stunned by news that the government of Israel was treating with the Arch Murderer, as governments of Israel had been accustomed to call him. For hours, as I watched, the strapping men with their moustaches and their trim kippot , the mothers in head-scarves wheeling their strollers, the black-hatted Yeshiva students, and masses of the less categorizable strained for that moment when some words, some notes, some voice might embody their fears and the fears of millions in Israel and the Diaspora that weren't there.
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