I envy Americans. The choice they face in their coming election is so clear. The choice we Israelis will face in our next election couldn’t be more muddled.

The choice in the United States is so stark because nearly every policy the Republican administration has put into action has failed, and in just the ways that the Democrats predicted. The implosion of the economy, the metastasization of the national debt, the failure of the adventure in Iraq, the destabilization of the Middle East and now the Russian periphery, the impending disappearance of the arctic ice cap–you name it, the Democrats were right and the Republicans were wrong. During the last eight years, the Democrats erred only when a) they assumed that the Republicans would pursue a risky policy in a responsible way (as in Iraq) or b) when they were too frightened to speak up clearly against insane policies that were popular with the electorate (as with the Bush tax cuts).

Israel, too, faces economic and social ills and threats to its security. But here, over the last eight years, the policy choices have not been as plain, the facts on the ground have been ambiguous, and the political opposition has not offered clear alternatives. The United States has been ruled from the far right since George Bush came into office; Israel has been ruled from the center during that same period.

The Olmert government made a disastrous error in its conduct of the Lebanon War of two years ago, and has pursued an insane policy of trying to eviscerate the Supreme Court. But the broader picture is not black and white, whether in foreign, defense, or domestic policy.

The major reason Olmert has been able to continue to govern despite the numerical weakness of his party and seemingly endless police investigations is that neither Labor nor Likud has tried to rally the country around a clear alternative set of solutions to the problems faced by Israel. In fact, both these parties largely agree with the basic outlines of this government’s program. They’d change emphases but not fundamentals. Both Ehud Barak and Binyamin Netanyahu would continue to seek, warily, a negotiated solution with the Palestinians. Neither will commit himself unambiguously to the use of force, or to its non-use, in facing the challenges presented by Hamas, Hezbollah, and Iran. In the domestic sphere, they face the same constraints of budget and entrenched interests; again, they differ on details but not on the basics.

So why hasn’t the Israeli political system produced a local Barack Obama who can stand up and campaign for change we can believe in?

I think the main reason is that we live in a small country, one that’s not as strong as we often like to believe. As a small country, both our defense position and our economy are influenced in powerful ways by forces beyond our control–in particular, the domestic and foreign policy of the United States of America. In the international economic and security milieu of the last eight years, Israel has been left with little choice but to muddle through as best it can.

A real change in the United States will likely present Israel with new opportunities to progress towards peace and towards solutions to its economic and social problems. When that happens, but only when it does, will Israeli voters face the stark–and obvious–choices that American voters face this November.

In my Jewish home, growing up, I learned that voting was a primary mitzvah, the mark of a responsible human being. In 1980, the first US election after I came to Israel, I tried voting. I wasn’t a citizen here yet. My absentee ballot arrived from California two days before the election, with a punchcard and a little curlycue of a wire to punch the chads out. Mail was taking about two weeks to get from Jerusalem to Los Angeles in those days. There was no way I could get the ballot back in time. For a while, I used the curlycue to clean my garlic press.

After that I didn’t try again for years. Experience showed that I probably wouldn’t succeed. Besides, like Haim, I felt that my life was here. I voted and protested here and wrote about Israeli politics, and called my wife every two hours when I had reserve duty in the ninth month of her pregnancy. In the ancient days of the 1980s and early 90s, I got my news of America from the foreign page of Ha’aretz, in Hebrew, in small doses. Why should I vote over there?

In 2004, I changed my mind. In the Internet era, with a journalist’s appetite for news, I knew more about what was happening in US politics than most Americans did. In 2000, a few hundred votes had made the difference between a qualified president and one who was making matters even worse in the Middle East than back in America. This time, I registered online, got a ballot early, and sent it back by three-day express mail, and damn the expense.

Is it right for me to do so? Is it fair, as Abu Haim asks?

From the point of view of the American polity, I’m an expat. The rules of American elections allow for absentee ballots. For those who’ve asked, we expats are registered in our last place of residence in the U.S. We’re also required to file tax returns – and to pay American taxes. True, we get certain tax breaks, but I assure you, our loopholes are nothing compared to those of the average hedge fund manager, and they’re allowed to vote. I have to pay social security tax on the self-employed part of my income, though the current administration’s economic policies daily reduce the forecast of what I’ll get in return. As I think I learned in third grade: No taxation without representation.

The rules of American elections are admittedly bizarre. A few hundred votes in Florida were worth more than thousands elsewhere. Every state has different rules on disqualifying ex-cons, rules that often have racist consequences. In some states but not others, an absentee ballot is valid even if the voter mailed it in and then died before election day. (LBJ would be blissed to know that there are legal ways for the dead to vote.) These are strange laws, but they list me and other permanent expats as qualified voters. Both major political parties have active branches for expats. The voting rules and tax policies of my native country both inform me that I am considered part of the polity.

And, yes, US elections have a deep impact on my life here. It’s true that in the 21st century, every country effects every other. But the relative weight of the impact is not equal. The United States is the Empire. It is the blind elephant in the china shop of the world. Its effect is immense, its wars are fought far from its shores, and most of its citizens, safe behind the moats of the Pacific and Atlantic while their newspapers shed foreign coverage , have no clue what their government is smashing in its stampede. If we expats have been permitted to bring some expert knowledge to the electoral process, we should do so. Especially when we have a chance of getting the ballot on time.

“I don’t vote in American elections,” I replied, “because I’m Israeli.”

“But you could vote, right?”

“I could,” I acknowledged. “I’m also an American citizen. But the last time I voted was in 1980. Once I decided to make my life here and began voting in Israeli elections, I didn’t think it would be right to vote in American ones, too.”

“You should vote for Obama,” Misgav said.

“Maybe I should,” I acknowledged.

It’s a dilemma. I retain my American passport and file a tax return with the IRS every year, but I don’t maintain a residence in the U.S. I have served in a foreign army and have no intention of ever returning to the country I grew up in.

On the other hand, the results of American elections undoubtedly affect my life as much as do the results of Israeli elections. As Gershom pointed out yesterday, my family is less physically safe because of the Bush administration’s misguided invasion of Iraq and its failure to pursue a vigorous diplomatic initiative between Israel and the Palestinians. My income, largely dollar-based, has declined by more than a quarter over the past year because of the Bush administration’s insane economic policies. And I’m involved in the discourse over American issues and policy through my work as a journalist, writer, and blogger.

Gershom tells me that he once agreed with my position but began to vote when George W. Bush acceded to the presidency after loosing an election. The fiasco of 2000 showed us that every vote counts.

This coming U.S. election will in large measure set the course of my children’s lives. So maybe Misgav is right. Maybe I should set my principles aside and cast that vote.