Election Day: A Billionaire's Holiday in Israel versus a Regular Tuesday in Denmark

In the 2021 elections, we were still living in the country.

The date fell exactly on Nadav's birthday, and we decided to turn the national holiday into a party. Our small Tel Aviv apartment became a train station for beloved people who came throughout the day. It was one of the happiest days of my life. Perhaps also because I had never had a wedding, and suddenly I had a day when everyone I loved had no excuse not to come.

How much does it cost

Only today do I realize how expensive this party was for me.

The day we grew up seeing as a democratic celebration is also one of the most costly economic events that the state organizes for itself.

An election system for the Knesset in Israel is estimated to cost about 2.5 to 3 billion shekels. The most expensive part is the day off itself, which leads to a loss of production and revenue amounting to about 1.5 billion shekels. This is in addition to the logistical costs of the election committee and public funding for the parties.

Yesterday in Denmark

Yesterday, elections were held in Denmark.

It was a completely ordinary day. Adam Ray went to kindergarten as usual, and we each went about our business. The street looked almost indifferent, with the same posters of party candidates that had accompanied the city in recent weeks.

“Today are the elections,” a friend pointed out to me.

Isn't that next week? I asked, and suddenly realized we were already on the third day of the following week. The news from Israel pulled my attention back to a reality my body no longer lived in, but my heart still did. Only in the evening did I also open the local news, which had changed the colors of the site and looked quite festive, in stark contrast to the streets of the city. I sent a message to my friend. Have you voted yet?

I voted last week, she replied. Now we’re with family watching the results together.

Hygge and Valgflæsk

On election night, the Danes gather in their homes. Hygge, watching the news together, and Valgflæsk, “election meat” – fried slices of pork with potatoes and parsley sauce. A kind of humorous dish to laugh at the politicians' promises. The term itself originated in the 19th century when candidates used to feed voters to win their votes.

Managing the elections in one of the world's democratic countries, where the voter turnout reaches 80-85 percent, is estimated to cost only about 120 million kroner – about 60 million shekels. A figure that, according to local journalists, is considered too high.

In Denmark, you can vote for a week before the official election day. Those who work can request an hour or two off, but there is no national holiday.

Drama versus Routine

In Israel, on the other hand, election day functions as a social holiday, with barbecues and mass social gatherings. It disrupts the routine of life and centers around public, emotional, and economic energy. Such events have a clear characteristic. They are not the routine but an exit from it. The need for the grand drama arises from the fact that the values we celebrate need affirmation. We celebrate them dramatically precisely because they are not taken for granted.

In Denmark, however, elections are embedded within the routine as a civic habit. Like going to the supermarket or ordering a large cappuccino. For someone coming from a place where political stability is not a given, this calmness can sometimes seem like a certain blindness to the fragility of freedom.

In a country where it is customary to gather in the evening around the dining table, election night looks like just another family meal, only a bit more festive. This soft ceremonial aspect allows for democracy to be held simultaneously as a habit and as an event. As a natural state of life, but also as something to pause for a moment and recognize its uniqueness.

Still thinking about Tel Aviv

And I am still thinking about that party in Tel Aviv.

What could we have done in Israel with that money, instead of celebrating Nadav's birthday?