Israelis: Friends or Foes?

March 21, 2006 - 2:54 PM by 90minute

It is hardly contested that Israelis have a reputation for being pushy and aggressive. The infamous term “sabra,” coined to stand for a native Israeli, derives from the Hebrew word, tzabar, the name for the “prickly pear” cactus, which can be found throughout the Middle East.

Stereotypes about Israelis are often offensive, yet simultaneously quite amusing. There is the pre-Army Israeli, sometimes known as “The Ars,” decked out in hip-hugging, washed-out jeans, slicked back hair, cigarette, and splash of ego. He is notoriously aggressive, especially around American girls.

Then there is the “Haredi,” the traditional ultra-orthodox man, dressed in all black with top hat and curls. He is a serious man, who rarely smiles, and fears for the future of all humanity.

The Jewish Mother is a timeless stereotype. She is infamous for her capabilities in generating guilt or fear in anyone she does not like. Or does like for that matter.

Soldiers dot the Israeli cultural landscape with a particularly visible presence. They are seen everywhere, machine guns slung over their shoulders, exhausted grimaces resting upon their faces. Their appearance alone makes a strong impression.

These stereotypes are only a few of the many that are attached to the Sabra, a relatively new cultural identity in the history of Jews. Most Jews, I would venture to say, are aware of these stereotypes, perhaps even overly aware.

I myself came to Israel braced to face unprecedented animosity. And while immediately upon arriving here I did see this pushy aspect of Israelis, I also got a glimpse of the illusive “sweet pear” center of these prickly people.

Complete strangers invited me to Shabbat dinner at their homes. Cab drivers offered me cookies and snacks if I rode up front. The campus security guards started remembering me, and waved me through whenever I was in a rush. The falafel guy made a special trip to get me lettuce for my pita because he knows I love it so much.

While on the street I was pushed, shoved, and ripped off, the minute I stepped inside a home, I felt a shift in the way I was seen. No longer was I someone to pass, quickly take advantage of, or ignore. I was now seen as a real person – with feelings, a history, a story to tell.

Some people say that Israelis see their culture as having the characteristics of one big family. Because of their intimacy, they feel comfortable being rude and aggressive. When I first heard this explanation I was touched. A few days later I deemed it a lame excuse.

Today I’m not sure what to think. Israeli’s street manners are certainly flailing, but their hospitality is unparalleled. People will dupe you as a dumb American, but offer you some Bambah snacks nonetheless. They’ll honk and make catcalls on the street, but treat you with respect in a conversation. Soldiers protect the country with fearless confidence, but use puppy-printed pink toilet paper on the base.

The whole issue of Israeli friendliness appears to be one big contradiction. The minute you have deemed the Israelis an impossible group of people, tough as nails and determined to make your life as complicated as possible, something happens that proves that assumption completely wrong.

Perhaps the toughness of Israel is an evolved trait. Like the prickly-pear, Jews and Israelis have had to adapt in order to survive. Life is Israel is not always easy, and a certain callousness can be helpful in coping. This callousness, however, cannot be seen as a representation of the true nature of an Israeli. It is, after all, like the prickles of a pear cactus, found mainly on the surface.

Michelle Tandler, of San Francisco, is a sophomore at Washington University in St. Louis. She is studying abroad at Hebrew University’s Rothberg International School this semester.

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