israeli politics, my life in tel aviv

Years ago Ezi used to lecture in the army about saving people from fallen buildings.  Ever since then when a building falls down he watches closely and kibbitzes.  The Surfside tragedy is the worst.  So much to kibbitz.  Yes, as the Israelis are saying, there still may be pockets where people can be alive, but from the first moment he was giving me the proper plan of action.  Of course he never tells anyone because he really has no avenues of communication, but I’m pretty sure he was right.  He said it’s a layered operation and you have to lift off the ceilings layer by layer with forklifts, very carefully but with gread speed.  

I don’t know anyone who lives there but I have not been able to take my eyes off the news for hours a day.  This is not like me – today a soldier was stabbed here and I haven’t turned on the news.    We’re usually used to ignoring terrible things so we can go on with our lives.  I don’t think we’re nonchalant, but helpless.  There are so many tragedies in daily life here that we note them, and go on.  Not just political. One minor example:  the streets of Tel Aviv have been ripped up for a few years now, part of the preparation for a subway that will probably be in use after I’m long dead.  So I ignore the mess.  Today they ripped up the beautiful green corner of our street – this time to widen the turn-off.  We went to see it.  The olive trees had disappeared, and the grassy arc where we used to sit was a hole.  We have been listening to bulldozers for months, widening the avenue nearby to create a designated bicycle lane and a wide walkway (where NOONE ever walks) .  They work at night – noisily and voraciously – and we just close all our windows and keep counter noise on. I doubt that any one of the neighbors who haven’t had their land confiscated by the government has said a word.  We haven’t.

But the rescuing procedure in Florida has been too much to bear.  

 

july 1, 2021 – when does one complain? Read Post »

blog, israeli politics, my life in tel aviv

today’s Jerusalem Post:

I love my Arab neighbors. Why don’t you?

It is true, I cannot deny it. Is there something wrong with that?

 

By GERSHON BASKIN   

JUNE 30, 2021

I am sometimes accused of being an “Arab-lover.” I have to come clean: It is true, I cannot deny it. Is there something wrong with that? I have lived and worked with Arabs for more than 40 years. I live in Jerusalem, which is a binational Israeli-Palestinian Arab city. My wife comes from an Iraqi Jewish family. Certainly her family’s cultural roots are Arab. My mother-in-law’s cooking (before she fell ill) was among the best Arab food I have ever eaten. 

I love the Arabic language and the more I study it the more I love it. I listen to a lot of Palestinian Arab radio stations while driving in my car. I have discovered hundreds of Arabic language films and series on Netflix, seriously expanding my world. In studying Arabic, I learn to appreciate and love the Hebrew language, too, even more than I already do. The two languages are so close to each other and share so much in common, it is such a huge loss that so few Hebrew and Arabic speakers in this world speak each other’s language.

I enjoy my frequent visits to Arab friends, in Israel, Palestine, Jordan, Egypt and other parts of the Arab world. There are differences between the different Arab cultures. I feel most at home in Palestinian homes, both inside of Israel and in the occupied territories. In those homes and communities, I always enjoy the closeness and warmth between friends and family. 

Arab hospitality is well known. I encountered it first when I lived in Kafr Qara from 1979 to 1981. Until you experience the generosity and openness, it is difficult to even describe it. I often felt uncomfortable because there were certainly times when I knew that the family was not very well off, but that was never expressed when serving guests. They would quietly send one of the children out to the nearby grocery store to buy some sweet drinks and other things to put on the table. I always felt bad because I didn’t want to drink those sweetened beverages, but knowing of their situation I would gulp them down anyway.

It took me a while to understand the whole Arab hospitality thing. For me it was difficult to grasp. Why are they spending so much time, so much money, and demonstrating such generosity? It seems so disproportionate to be treated that way when I would probably not come close to showing the same kind of hospitality. Then it dawned on me. It all has to do with the notion of “honor,” which is a key value in traditional Middle Eastern cultures. 

In Western society, the honor is to be the guest. In Arab society, the honor is to be the host. You gain honor and you demonstrate your honor by hosting in the best way possible. Not only is this a foreign concept in the West, the relationship to “honor,” particularly to “personal honor” in the West is completely different from the way that Arab society relates to it. Honor is the core of one’s existence. 

THE HONOR of the individual embodies the honor of the family, all of its members, especially the women and, even more so, the elders. The collective honor of the family is embodied in the honor of the tribe or the extended family. This goes from the local to the national, where the concept of national honor becomes a core element in the Israeli-Arab conflict. It all can be distilled down to something that Westerners and Easterners can easily understand: dignity. Arab dignity is expressed, among other things, by their hospitality. Even the Arabic word to extend hospitality is yehtarem, meaning to grant honor.

I have heard so many stories over the years of Israeli Palestinians who hosted Israeli Jews in their home and showed them the generosity of Arab hospitality. I heard from the Arab hosts how insulted they were when their Jewish guests invited them in return and took them to a restaurant instead of inviting them to their home. The Jewish side, of course, felt that they were showing respect and generosity by taking their guests to dine out, and it didn’t even dawn on them that this would be seen as an insult. 

I heard many times from young Israeli Palestinians who participated in meetings with Israeli Jews within the framework of school. The first visit usually takes place in the Arab town or village and almost always includes a home visit, often for lunch. When the reciprocal visit takes place, most often the kids have lunch together in the school, and the Arab kids end up being insulted. They say, “Why didn’t they bring me to their home like we brought them to ours?”

Why am I bringing all of this up? Because of the renewal of the so-called “citizenship law” that is really the anti-love, anti-Arab, racist, and one of the most despicable and disgraceful laws in the Israeli legal system. I have good friends who are the victims of this law. Even in 2003 when it was first passed, it had nothing really to do with security, as was claimed. It has always been about demography, which is Israeli coded language for pure outright racism. It has always been about preventing Arabs from receiving citizenship in Israel. 

It is beyond my human ability to understand how our lawmakers and politicians can see the validity of denying citizens of a democratic country the right to freely marry and live with their spouses as full citizens within their own country. I can only imagine what the reaction of Israel would be if some other country passed laws that prevented Jewish citizens of that country from allowing them to marry freely and bring their spouses to live with them as equal citizens.

I call on the new Israeli government to simply not bring the law’s extension to a vote. The law, which is a temporary order, will simply fade away. There are already more than enough safeguards within the Israeli legal system to prevent people who are genuine security risks from becoming citizens. All other applicants for family reunification should be immediately granted the right to love and to live in peace with their spouses and families as equal citizens of our democratic country. So yes, I am an Arab-lover. The question I ask is, why aren’t you also?

The writer is a political and social entrepreneur who has dedicated his life to the State of Israel and to peace between Israel and her neighbors. His latest book, In Pursuit of Peace in Israel and Palestine, was published by Vanderbilt University Press.

june 30, 2021 – from Gershon baskin Read Post »

blog, my life in tel aviv,

The tree in front of our living room window suffered a lot in the past years – all these guys who work for the municipality got the wrong information and cut off the wrong branch, then a tractor plowed into it, and then it started flowering and shedding leaves at the same time.  I never thought it would live through the heat waves we’ve been having, the rainstorms, the manhandling, but today I suddenly noticed it has grown much taller, and almost reaches my window.  It is as if it knows I love it, and it wants to please me so much it will adapt to all the circumstances, all the punishments it’s been enduring.

Our window flowers and plants, however, are not doing as well.   I can almost hear them saying “I don’t have to take this abuse,” as they disappear overnight.  We were getting enormous quantities of cherry tomatoes for months, but now there is nothing left.  Peppers too.  And all the stuff we replanted from the garden at the entrance of our building rebelled as well.  Even though we kept the plants in the shade, the unusually hot desert winds and the changes from day to day don’t agree with them.

or maybe they are just echoing what is in my heart.

 

may 9, 2021 – heat waves and window plants Read Post »

blog, my life in tel aviv, poetry, ,

It was really thrilling for me to translate Emma Lazarus’s New Colossus to Hebrew.  Even if you don’t know Hebrew, you’ll get my amazing enthusiasm about the poem in the clip…  Let them know if you like it.

It was the first poem that brought me to tears when I was growing up, but the more I studied poetry as a student the more embarrassed I was about loving it.  No one seemed to take the poem as seriously as I did.  But today, when I heard Biden quote a line from the poem, I realized once again that it was the quintessential poem for me, and I was proud that I always believed in the ideals it represents. 

 

April 17, 2021 – The new colossus Read Post »

blog, my life in tel aviv

What a surprise! For her birthday Rachel Talmi took a few of her friends to the Shalom Asch House in Bat Yam.  I have long looked for this house, but it was always closed when I looked for it.  Its significance is clear, as Shira Turnov explained years ago, but its accessibility eluded me.  This is unlike Asch himself who wrote novels that were not only accessible but incredibly absorbing.  They were not part of my parents’ library – their antiestablishment nature, their depiction of Jews as human beings as opposed to shtetl stereotypes, was a bit too daring for them, I suppose.  But somehow I got to him anyway.  And just before the first lockdown, I saw two of his plays.  Scandalous.  Wonderful. 

Anyway his house was full of all kinds of fascinating things – paintings by great artists, letters from famous people, furniture, and artifacts of great depth.  And a writing desk that simply inspires one to create.  

Of course there are a few problems with visiting right now – it’s open for a few hours a week and the parking may be a problem.  But you can call first.

 

 

 

march 21 – the Shalom Asch house Read Post »