Israeli wine demarginalizes settlers
Filed under: A New Reality, Business, Food, General, History and Culture, Israeliness, Politics, coexistence
The Israeli settler movement is often cited as a thorn in the side of peace, a rag-tag band of Wild West-inspired radicals who are keeping Israel of reaching her goals of progress. This over-generalized perception might or might not be accurate, although the headlines last month out of Hebron don’t necessarily make them look so good.
The settler movement holds a tricky place in the culture, no matter how you slice it. And even if many sectors of Israeli society make sure that the government’s attitude towards settlers remain as ambiguous as possible, the fact is that the state depends on these people to garner us international diplomatic leverage by creating “facts on the ground” rather than theoretical claims to territory, and their lifestyles – no matter how ideological or pragmatic – are therefore highly subsidized by the national budget.
For the fall holidays, the settler movement, embodied by the Yesha Council (a consciously anachronistic acronym for “Judea Samaria and Gaza”), launched a major tourism promotion campaign which packaged the territories as a kitschy roots discovery destination for mainstream Israelis (a harsh but poignant analysis of the marketing message appears here).
Now Yesha is further trying to endear itself to the center of the country by piggybacking on the oeno-tourism trend, a trend that has people around the world and around the nation visiting remote locations of Israel to check out various vineyards and barrel caves. Many of Israel’s up-and-coming wineries are kosher, but the trend is not only for the God-fearing – especially when it comes to the increasingly developed pallets of local connoisseurs.
In addition, institutions of higher learning, bed and breakfasts and olive oil presses have been employed as “facts on the ground” that have the potential to rally support from the settler-skeptical. Haaretz recently got some interesting comments on the matter from a Yesha leader:
Bentzi Lieberman, a former chairman of the Yesha Council, acknowledged shortly before leaving his post that “the settlers are living on borrowed time: if we don’t create something else for the public, something dynamic, relevant and up-to-date, if we don’t use a different, Israeli, language, that will connect the public to us, the danger of us becoming irrelevant will increase.”
Lieberman at the time cited Ariel College and the Barkan Industrial Zone as examples of successful marketing, “that blur boundaries, roadblocks and the Green Line, projects that cross borders and span across opinions, that are beyond all the little fears and connect the broad Israeli public to here.”
“If we are not able to create these kinds of projects, in terms of language, content and essence and also in the economic sense,” Lieberman warned then, “if we don’t speak a language that Israelis understand, we won’t be here.” Today, Lieberman’s vision is taking shape and increasing numbers of Israelis are visiting Judea and Samaria for reasons that are not political. Instead they are going for the experience and the fun.
Photo from flickr user ePublicist under a creative commons license.
Lessons from The Rabin Murder
Israel can surprise you – in the most surprising ways. One thing I’ve learned in some 15 years of living here – nothing, but nothing, is what it seems on the surface. There is little, if any, black and white in Israeli life – it’s a rainbow, with lots of shades of different colors in the mix. Take my Rabin experience, for example.
I was at home with my wife and some friends, watching a movie, when I heard the news – “Four Weddings and a Funeral.” Not focusing too closely on the video (men will understand why), I overheard a couple of neighbors talking outside in the courtyard. Rather rare for a Saturday night, I thought, and especially those two, who didn’t generally fraternize, going on at length. Sauntering out of the room (I think it was around the time of the second wedding), I went out to the porch to find out what was going on.
Needless to say, we turned the movie off and watched the proceedings.
At the time, I worked for a publication owned by a major Israeli newspaper in Tel Aviv. You could count on one hand the number of observant people in this organization (to their credit, the very avant garde, very politically left people at this publication were extremely respectful to my religious principles – for example, they always made sure kosher food was served at staff meetings, etc.).
But not only was I religious – I was a “settler,” too, living in a community east of the green line. This, too, had never been an issue with these people, and my views on politics and Jewish life in Judea and Samaria were well-known. But now, with Rabin killed by a Jew wearing a kippah, and his alleged connections to residents of Judea and Samaria – this was different. With all the talk of how “the right and religious” were behind Rabin’s killing, I walked into the office that Sunday morning with great trepidation, ready for anything – dirty looks, insults, verbal confrontations, or worse.
But either the folks working at this publication were exceptions to the rule, or the very yellow character of the Israeli media had reared its ugly head again, with the tiny minority of loudmouths dedicated to ruining the fabric of Israeli society trumpeting ideas about putting right-wingers in internment camps in the Negev being given a solitary platform. Even the “star” of this publication, who today is famous for his American talk-show shock-jock style radio call-in program where he argues with everybody, and who has extremely left-wing views, didn’t speak to me any differently than usual (gruffly, like he talked to everybody). Astounded, I asked one of the editors of the publication what was going. Where was all the blame, the anger, the “we will not forgive and we will not forget” I was expecting? After all, I was a pretty convenient target!
He just looked at me like I was crazy – and asked: “Why would we want to do that to you? You may be a settler, but you’re ‘our’ settler!”
Nabbing the Elusive Rye
For the culinarily curious, Israel is heaven on earth. With Israeli immigrants – who know how to cook – hailing from all over the world, you could eat a different ethnic/national cuisine every day for a month. Not to mention feasting on the staples of Israeli cuisine – falafel, grilled meats, and the rest (note to those looking for an arguement – tabbuleh and humus were perfected by Jews from Syria and Lebanon, who brought them here when they got thrown out of their host Arab countries! But that’s for a different post.)
You can even get “American food” in Israel – fast food, of course, but there are also restaurants, many of them kosher nowadays, that specialize in burgers, barbecued wings, chili, etc. And deli – they have that here, too, with pastrami, corned beef, and the like available at an increasing number of restaurants, takeout places, and butchers.
There’s only one thing missing – an American style bread bakery. There’s a good place in Jerusalem for brownies and seven layer cake, if you’re in the mood – but bread is something else. In recent years, bagels have become an in thing among Israeli foodies – but they’re not the bagels you remember from the “appetizing store,” as we used to call it in the old country. Here the bagels seem to be baked, not boiled – definitely not what any self-respecting H&H frequenter would call a “bagel.” And don’t even ask about bialies!
Forget the bialies – I’ll settle for a Jewish-style rye loaf. But it just hasn’t been available in Israel. Rye bread lovers are forced to settle for “black bread” (“lechem shachor”), a poor substitute. Somehow, among the pitas, pretzels, “lachuch” (Yemenite style sponge bread), and all the rest, that New York Jewish staple – rye bread – got lost in the shuffle.
Until this morning, that is – when the Saidel Bakery opened for business in the Ginot Shomron neighborhood of Karnei Shomron (a Jewish community in Samaria, inside the security fence, about 15 minutes from Kfar Sava). Les, the chief baker (pictured standing in front of what he said was “the largest brick oven in the Shomron”) works all night turning out sublime New York style rye bread, rolls, and bagels – which is really an accomplishment, since he’s from South Africa!
A refugee from the dot-com world (he used to design web sites), Les has been baking since he was a kid, taking an example from a rebbe of his, who used to bake whole wheat bread with his students, as an educational, social, and relaxation activity. Les refurbished the bakery area (in the back of his house) and built the display cases – and the oven – himself. A real renaissance man! Baking bread is a tough business, as anyone who has spent time around commercial bakeries and restaurants knows – so it’s clear that the goods this bakery produces are not just food, but a labor of love.
And the taste – fantastic! Les hopes to expand his offerings and supply stores in the area as well, but for now, the only place in the country to get a real Jewish rye is in this pleasant but a bit out of the way community over the Green Line. Naturally, the fact that the bakery is in the Shomron will prevent some Israelis from enjoying Les’ bread, hesitating to come out here because of their political views. They certainly have a right to feel that way – but I can’t say I’m too sorry. Fewer of them means more rye and bagels for us!
Parents’ Day
Filed under: Crime, General, Israeliness, Life, coexistence
I love field trips. But I had never been on one before in a police van led by cop packing an impressive looking piece.
No, the authorities hadn’t finally caught on to me and sent me up the river. It was part of ‘Parents Day’ in the Israel Police department for families with children serving their army duty in the police.
For someone who’s always kept their distance from authority, I felt pretty comfortable as my wife and about 12 other adults joined my daughters commanders for a half day tour of the area they patrol on a day-in day-out basis.
This was a part of Israel we don’t usually get to see… the Shai district, which runs from the Shomron settlement of Eli to the Jerusalem area settlements of Adam and Anatot around to the east and the Modi’in-area settlement of Nili, Kiryat Sefer and others. The operative word, I guess, is settlements.
As parents, we tend to pack away in the backs of our minds the fact that our daughter is driving around 12 hours a day arbitrating olive picking disputes between Arabs and Jews, removing settlers from illegal outposts, arresting husbands who are abusing their wives or children, controlling traffic after an auto accident, confiscating knives, drugs and other contraband from cars stopped at roadblocks… and doing it all on roads and neighborhoods which are high risk anyway for rock throwing attacks and even worse.
We received some insight into the complexities and nuances of keeping the peace in an area where there’s constant conflict, where nobody really knows who owns those olive groves, where a caravan can be put up illegally but the police are powerless to dismantle it, unless the political echelon gives the ok.
We visited Eli – amazing view and weather, the archeological site of Tel Shilo, the oldest settlement in Shomron, Ofra, and Amona, the site of a violent scene two years ago when police tore down permanent buildings built there illegally. Those same settlers who were fighting the police then are the same ones who receive full service the next day when their car is stolen by someone in the Palestinian village next door.
We ended up in the police district headquarters at Beit El, where we were greeted by our children in uniform and treated to a luncheon feast.
When our daughter’s commander walked toward me at one point with a purposeful look, my heart started beating and the first words that came to mind were going to be ‘but it was for medicinal purposes only’. But he only wanted to talk about seeing Paul McCartney last month and compare notes.
I was a little disappointed because when we were stuck in a traffic jam just past the Hizme checkpoint heading out of Jerusalem into the territories, the driver didn’t just put the siren on and pass all the cars at a high speed. That would have been cool.
But the police seemed pleased with how their first Parents Day turned out, and they plan to do it again. The commander left us with some good advice. Make sure to give your daughter or son a hug or a pat on the back once in a while, because they’re doing an amazing job at trying to keep our country safe. I know I’ll be doing that a lot from now on.
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