An important point escaped the stormy public discussion surrounding Avigdor Lieberman's joining the government: the step's significance for over one million Israelis from the former Soviet Union. We are not talking only about the implications for the Russian-speaking electorate of adding the Yisrael Beiteinu chairman to the government. The step also has a profound influence on the entire community, and therefore, on all of society due not only to the legitimacy granted to the party's racist agenda, but also to the symbolic significance of the position its leader will hold. This is no longer "nash kontrol" in the Interior Ministry, this is "nash kontrol," even if only symbolic, of the strategy of the State of Israel.

Russian-speaking ministers have been serving in various government ministries since 1996 including the Absorption and Interior Ministries. But during the course of a decade, their appointments were made since they were representatives of "the sector." In October 2006, 10 years after the founding of the first Russian party, Yisrael b'Aliyah, highlighted by Natan Sharansky's resignation from the Knesset and Lieberman's appointment as minister for strategic affairs, "Russian" politics as we have known them are coming to an end.

It's enough to look at the coalition agreement signed between Kadima and Yisrael Beitenu, which is, in effect, a personal employment contract for Lieberman. The urgent issues affecting Russian-speaking immigrants merit an incidental and noncommittal mention. Lieberman was recruited quickly to save the coalition, but at the same time, he was also rescued from the sectoral niche he has long despised. Even Arthur Finkelstein could not have designed a more effective strategy for him: Had Lieberman joined the government upon its formation, he would still have come as a representative of a sector that cannot be skipped over when portfolios are distributed; now he is coming in as an ideologue and expert.

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But as someone who is enjoying the personal support of 50 percent of the Russian-speaking public and super-star status among those who do not vote for him, he is leading the 1990s aliyah to where it wants to be: a position of leadership. It has been clear for years that the million people who came here are no longer seeking integration into society; they want to lead. A sense of cultural superiority, strengthened by the experience of emigration from an empire, even a disintegrating one, shaped the unique character of this wave of aliyah, which does not yearn to fit in.

The failure of the second war in Lebanon reinforced their feeling that they understand the regional situation better than the veterans. The message to the veteran establishment is: You tried your way and failed, now it's our turn to lead. Lieberman is fulfilling this desire as he enters what many Russian speakers see as a great Israeli vacuum.

One of the frequent complaints of immigrants from the FSU is that unlike them, veteran Israelis lack strategic thinking. For the most part, the newcomers attribute this to a difference in the concept of time between the two sides, and despise the Israeli tendency of dealing only with the here and now. Many of them see Lieberman's appointment as resolving this structural weakness.

In this context, it is interesting to examine the super-status acquired by Arcadi Gaydamak. Lieberman and Gaydamak are bound up with one another not only politically, but also symbolically in serving as an alternative to the weaknesses of the veteran establishment. The question of whether that is good for Israel is another issue.

Given these developments, we should mention the conclusions of a study conducted by Professor Majed Alhaj, a sociologist from the University of Haifa. Alhaj estimates that Russian speakers represent the country's new future elite. Lieberman's appointment is likely to be a catalyst for this process.