The upcoming U.S. presidential election is the topic of the day for Americans, but this American is more focused on the November 11 election for the mayor and city council of Jerusalem. Those of you who have been with me since I started blogging know that the worrisome future of this city is one of the issues in Israel that is closest to my heart. As a secular Zionist who deeply believes in the centrality of Jerusalem to all of the Jewish people, I have stood my ground in this city for twenty three years as residents of my ilk have decamped, in alarming numbers, to the coastal plain. They have abandoned the city because many succesive Israeli governments have abandoned it, denying Jerusalem the resources and attention it needs in order to thrive and succeed as the capitol of the state of Israel and as a city representative of the great diversity of the Jewish people. The vaccuum has, of course, been filled by the ultra orthodox, whose sectarian interests and shtetl mentality have turned Jerusalem into a backward, poor, dirty excuse for an illustrious capitol. This process was accelerated in recent years by the ultra orthodox takeover of the Jerusalem mayor's office. Although Mayor Lupolianski is a very nice man, he is merely a puppet of the ultra orthodox establishment, which, through him, has made itself very clear: ultra orthodox interests supercede the welfare and the future of Jerusalem.
It wasn't always like this. Under the tutelage of Teddy Kollek, who reigned for twenty-eight years as the indefatigueable and undefeatable mayor of Jerusalem, the city experienced impressive development. This was thanks primarily to Kollek's excellent leadership and to the fact that he was utterly devoted to the city - he had no ambitions to move on to national politics from his prestigious office, but considered Jerusalem to be his life's project. At age eighty-two he was finally defeated by Ehud Olmert who, recognizing that his Likud party was temporarily on the downswing during the halcyon days of the peace agreement with the Palestinians, strategically chose to strengthen his political standing by taking a time-out from the Knesset and gaining international prestige throught the office of the mayor of Jerusalem. The position was merely a stepping stone for him, albeit slightly off the beaten path, in his return to national politics. Thankfully, he has reached the end of that road but during his ten years as mayor of Jerusalem he managed to lay the groundwork for the significant deterioration of the city by joining forces with the ultra orthodox political hacks in city hall. When Olmert left they were perfectly positioned to take over the mayor's office.
The secular public of Jerusalem is not without blame in this story, as most of them chose not to vote in the previous elections. However, hopefully many previously apathetic citizens now understand that the upcoming mayoral election is the last chance to save Jerusalem.
Who's running? The ultra-orthodox candidate, Meir Porush, has painted himself in his election posters as a cuddly grandpa but beneath the caricature is the scion of a greedy, manipulative, horse-trading dynasty of politicians whose candidacy is problematic amongst many of the ultra-orthodox subsets themselves. It's not yet clear whether he can garner the unwavering support of the entire sector, which is the only way he can possibly win (the ultras, needless to say, will do whatever their rabbis instruct them to do, whether it's to go out and vote or stay at home).
The jury is still out on Arieh Deri, who has until Tuesday to submit his candidacy. Deri, a well-known, extremely talented ultra-orthodox politician from the Shas party, was convicted of corruption after a meteoric rise on the political scene and went to jail for two years. The law prohibits a person convicted of crimes of 'moral turpitude' for running for political office for seven years, which for Deri means he cannot return to politics until January 2009. He applied to the court to run for mayor on the grounds that when he was convicted, the law required only a five-year waiting period. His request to run was denied and we are waiting to see if he chooses to appeal. If he runs, he will be difficult to beat despite his problematic past. Hopefully he will choose to remain out of the race. Although he is an excellent administrator, ultimately an ultra-orthodox mayor will, first and foremost, look out for the ultra-orthodox interests.
The next candidate is Arcady Gaydamak, who is today a household name in Israel but about whom the less is said, the better. A billionaire Russian oligarch who made his fortune in shady arms deals with Angola and, despite his pretensions to local power, still does not speak Hebrew sufficiently, Gaydamak is a power-hungry, media-exposure freak who sees the state of Israel as his future kingdom. The current polls indicate he doesn't stand a chance; in fact, he might even draw votes away from the ultras. Hopefully, he will not pose a threat.
The man who is going to save Jerusalem is Nir Barkat, a local boy who group up in the city and has an impressive resume of experience in the army, high-tech and education. He is totally, one hundred percent dedicated to bring Jerusalem into the twenty-first century and tapping into the enormous potential the city harbors. He's smart, energetic, driven and actually has a vision of where the city should be in twenty years. He spent the last four years on the city council and is intimately acquainted with the day-to-day issues of running this town. It's true that he's somewhat right-wing but partisan politics are mostly irrelevant in this race. The future divison of Jerusalem will not be up to the mayor to decide, but rather the prime minister and the coalition. The mayor must be able to nurture and grow the city just under the radar of a future agreement with the Palestinians.
Nir Barkat seems to have a good chance of winning - if people come out to vote. It is to this goal that I am wholely devoting myself for the coming weeks. I interrogate every Jerusalemite I meet to make sure they are planning to vote for Barkat. I took my two seventeen-year-old daughters, who are now entitled to vote in mayoral elections, to get the ID cards required for them to cast a ballot. (I also proudly fulfilled my responsibility as a parent by convincing my daughter Shaked to come with me to meet Barkat and hear him speak at a parlor meeting.) I even convinced my father-in-law, a life-long communist, political cynicist and former Tel Avivian who is in a wheel chair, to vote (he doesn't care who wins but he'll do it for me). Those of you who are reading: if you know anyone sane who lives in Jerusalem please contact them and urge them to go out and vote on November 11: Nir Barkat for mayor, and any non-ultra orthodox party for city council. For me, it's as important as a matter of life and death.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Paul McCartney in the Holy Land
Last week I joined 45,000 Israelis and went to hear Paul McCartney play at Yarkon Park. I admit that initially, I balked at the 500 shekel ticket but eventually I was convinced that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity - and it was.
The ticket bought a place on the grass, first come, first served. Friends managed to get in as soon as they opened, around 5:30, and stake out our territory fairly close to the stage. Until seven we lounged leisurely on the grass, eating and drinking. I went for a walk to find a few of the many friends I knew were in attendence, which would not have been possible without a cellphone - go find someone you know in a crowd of 45,000 (in fact, it was difficult to get people on the phone, probably because of the intense call load in the immediate area where everyone was looking for someone else). When I made my way back to my friends around 7:15 most people were no longer sitting on the grass, but standing up, and when I finally spotted them it was all I could do to make my way through the tangle of bodies to rejoin them. There was literally no empty space on the ground to put my feet but somehow I made it.
As the eight o'clock starting time drew closer, more and more people pushed their way towards the stage. There was nowhere to move without touching someone and the collective heat output was unbearable. When eight o'clock, and then eight fifteen passed with no Paul McCartney I was on the verge of giving up and moving to an open space where I wouldn't be able to see the stage but where I could breathe. Then, as I asked myself for about the tenth time, "why am I doing this?" the lights on the stage went on and he was there. In that moment, as he played the opening chords to "Hello,Goodbye" every physical discomfort was suddenly meaningless.
Dressed in an impeccably tailored suit, the jacket of which he shortly removed to reveal a pink shirt embroidered with flowers and suspenders, he is as slim as a young man. Although he has probably had some work done on his face, there wasn't the slightest whiff of an aging rocker about him. He seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself singing and playing those same tunes for the umpteenth time. He opened by saying, "Shalom Tel Aviv" and "Shana Tova," and he introduced several of his songs in Hebrew from a crib sheet he charmingly glanced at. He even threw in a few words in Arabic, although I doubt there were many Arabs in the crowd.
The atmosphere was magical and I couldn't help trying to imagine what it must be like to hear 45,000 people singing the words to the songs you wrote, full of love and excitement just to be in the same physical space with you. Only about half his selections were Beatles songs - the rest were from Wings and onwards. There were even a few I had never heard before. I guess there can be life after the Beatles, even for Paul McCartney.
The finale was, of course, Hey Jude, or as he introduced it, 'Ahalan Jude.' The crowd sang the "Nananana" chorus until he and the band came back on stage and did two encores. When it was finally over he could have just walked off the stage but he took the mike and said, "it's time for you to go home!"
"No!" roared the crowd.
The exchange continued for a few minutes until he finally waved and disappeared into the darkness.
What a musician. What a performer. What a guy.
The ticket bought a place on the grass, first come, first served. Friends managed to get in as soon as they opened, around 5:30, and stake out our territory fairly close to the stage. Until seven we lounged leisurely on the grass, eating and drinking. I went for a walk to find a few of the many friends I knew were in attendence, which would not have been possible without a cellphone - go find someone you know in a crowd of 45,000 (in fact, it was difficult to get people on the phone, probably because of the intense call load in the immediate area where everyone was looking for someone else). When I made my way back to my friends around 7:15 most people were no longer sitting on the grass, but standing up, and when I finally spotted them it was all I could do to make my way through the tangle of bodies to rejoin them. There was literally no empty space on the ground to put my feet but somehow I made it.
As the eight o'clock starting time drew closer, more and more people pushed their way towards the stage. There was nowhere to move without touching someone and the collective heat output was unbearable. When eight o'clock, and then eight fifteen passed with no Paul McCartney I was on the verge of giving up and moving to an open space where I wouldn't be able to see the stage but where I could breathe. Then, as I asked myself for about the tenth time, "why am I doing this?" the lights on the stage went on and he was there. In that moment, as he played the opening chords to "Hello,Goodbye" every physical discomfort was suddenly meaningless.
Dressed in an impeccably tailored suit, the jacket of which he shortly removed to reveal a pink shirt embroidered with flowers and suspenders, he is as slim as a young man. Although he has probably had some work done on his face, there wasn't the slightest whiff of an aging rocker about him. He seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself singing and playing those same tunes for the umpteenth time. He opened by saying, "Shalom Tel Aviv" and "Shana Tova," and he introduced several of his songs in Hebrew from a crib sheet he charmingly glanced at. He even threw in a few words in Arabic, although I doubt there were many Arabs in the crowd.
The atmosphere was magical and I couldn't help trying to imagine what it must be like to hear 45,000 people singing the words to the songs you wrote, full of love and excitement just to be in the same physical space with you. Only about half his selections were Beatles songs - the rest were from Wings and onwards. There were even a few I had never heard before. I guess there can be life after the Beatles, even for Paul McCartney.
The finale was, of course, Hey Jude, or as he introduced it, 'Ahalan Jude.' The crowd sang the "Nananana" chorus until he and the band came back on stage and did two encores. When it was finally over he could have just walked off the stage but he took the mike and said, "it's time for you to go home!"
"No!" roared the crowd.
The exchange continued for a few minutes until he finally waved and disappeared into the darkness.
What a musician. What a performer. What a guy.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Things Are Heating Up Around Here
Summer may be ending but the political arena is finally getting warmer after months of boredom. Not surprisingly, Tzipi Livni took the Kadima primaries on Wednesday but the fallout was heavy. All the polling companies predicted a significant victory for her over Shaul Mofaz, but when the ballots were actually counted her advantage was only around four hundred votes. What is the excuse for this gross statistical miscalculation? It seems the exit poll voters pulled a fast one on the pollsters by lying about their votes, a very interesting ploy. It may be understood as a classic example of the Israeli desire to beat the system. It may also be an expression of frustration with a political culture obsessed with the public's opinion. Perhaps this attempt to mess with the system is actually a cry of desperation from an electorate weary of politicians who determine their policy based on the feeling of the Israeli street? Perhaps it's a demand for the return of political leaders who lead according to their own inner moral compass? Where are the Begins, the Rabins, the Sharons who pursued policy despite what the people wanted? Give us a politician who tells us what we do not want to hear, but knows best (Barak and Netanyahu need not apply).
P.S. At least one of the polling companies has announced that it will not longer run exit polls for primary elections.
The second very interesting development is Shaul Mofaz's announcement that, in the wake of his loss to Tzipi Livni in the Kadima primaries, he is leaving politics for now. If there were any doubts about Mofaz's integrity, this move affirms them all. There's only one word for a guy like this: quitter. Politics is a tough, dirty business, especially in Israel. Even a successful person like Mofaz, who worked his way up from a poor family to become chief of staff of the Israeli army, and then Minister of Defense in the government, has many detractors. His claim that the media was against him might be true (two days before the primaries there were five editorials in Haaretz, three about the election and all heavily in favor of Livni); since they largely represent the Ashkenazi establishment he might, as a Mizrahi Jew, feel justifiably discriminated against, although we can be sure that many other Mizrahi Jews voted for Mofaz simply because of his ethnic background. No matter how many dirty tricks his opponent's people played on him and no matter how he analyzes his loss, Mofaz has a responsibility to all of the people who worked tirelessly on his campaign and all of the people who gave him their votes of confidence to stay in the game and represent them, even if he lost the contest. If I had voted for him I would be bitterly disillusioned over his announcement to quit.
Mofaz evidently feels insulted by the Livni's smear campaign against him. "They tried to portray me as a political wheeler dealer, a stupid, depraved man, despite all I contributed," Mofaz was quoted in Haaretz. One of the commentators suggested Mofaz felt the media had manipulated the announcement of the exit polls to turn away his voters while the polls were still open - in short, a conspiracy. He also mentioned Mofaz's dislike of Livni and his defeat by a mere 1.1%, the ultimate insult. One needs a very thick skin to play the political game in Israel, which Mofaz evidently does not have, but I think his surprising exit from the highest reaches of government (pundits were predicting that Livni would give him the foreign ministry post) might really be about reporting to a woman boss. Not only does Mofaz come from a deeply chauvinistic ethnic culture but he rose through the ranks of the Israeli army, the ultimate homegrown macho, chauvinistic institution, to lead and symbolize it. At the risk of sounding politically incorrect I would like to point out that our former, now disgraced president Moshe Katzav is a native son of the same Persian culture so notorious for its deeply ingrained view of women as inferior to men. It's dangerous to generalize but I speak now as a woman, regardless of my ethnic background. Some men, no matter how accomplished, are incapable of accepting women as their equals and I believe that Shaul Mofaz is one of them. He can declaim a littany of shortcomings about Livni as a politician but the bottom line is he would rather go home and sulk rather than report to a woman. The welfare of the state, the party, the future of the Jewish people - suddenly, they can manage just fine without Shaul Mofaz. I never liked him anyway, so good riddance. Although, mark my words: he'll be back.
P.S. At least one of the polling companies has announced that it will not longer run exit polls for primary elections.
The second very interesting development is Shaul Mofaz's announcement that, in the wake of his loss to Tzipi Livni in the Kadima primaries, he is leaving politics for now. If there were any doubts about Mofaz's integrity, this move affirms them all. There's only one word for a guy like this: quitter. Politics is a tough, dirty business, especially in Israel. Even a successful person like Mofaz, who worked his way up from a poor family to become chief of staff of the Israeli army, and then Minister of Defense in the government, has many detractors. His claim that the media was against him might be true (two days before the primaries there were five editorials in Haaretz, three about the election and all heavily in favor of Livni); since they largely represent the Ashkenazi establishment he might, as a Mizrahi Jew, feel justifiably discriminated against, although we can be sure that many other Mizrahi Jews voted for Mofaz simply because of his ethnic background. No matter how many dirty tricks his opponent's people played on him and no matter how he analyzes his loss, Mofaz has a responsibility to all of the people who worked tirelessly on his campaign and all of the people who gave him their votes of confidence to stay in the game and represent them, even if he lost the contest. If I had voted for him I would be bitterly disillusioned over his announcement to quit.
Mofaz evidently feels insulted by the Livni's smear campaign against him. "They tried to portray me as a political wheeler dealer, a stupid, depraved man, despite all I contributed," Mofaz was quoted in Haaretz. One of the commentators suggested Mofaz felt the media had manipulated the announcement of the exit polls to turn away his voters while the polls were still open - in short, a conspiracy. He also mentioned Mofaz's dislike of Livni and his defeat by a mere 1.1%, the ultimate insult. One needs a very thick skin to play the political game in Israel, which Mofaz evidently does not have, but I think his surprising exit from the highest reaches of government (pundits were predicting that Livni would give him the foreign ministry post) might really be about reporting to a woman boss. Not only does Mofaz come from a deeply chauvinistic ethnic culture but he rose through the ranks of the Israeli army, the ultimate homegrown macho, chauvinistic institution, to lead and symbolize it. At the risk of sounding politically incorrect I would like to point out that our former, now disgraced president Moshe Katzav is a native son of the same Persian culture so notorious for its deeply ingrained view of women as inferior to men. It's dangerous to generalize but I speak now as a woman, regardless of my ethnic background. Some men, no matter how accomplished, are incapable of accepting women as their equals and I believe that Shaul Mofaz is one of them. He can declaim a littany of shortcomings about Livni as a politician but the bottom line is he would rather go home and sulk rather than report to a woman. The welfare of the state, the party, the future of the Jewish people - suddenly, they can manage just fine without Shaul Mofaz. I never liked him anyway, so good riddance. Although, mark my words: he'll be back.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Embrace Change
There's nothing like spending August in New York during a year of both Olympics and upcoming presidential elections to reinforce the American part of my identity. The showcase of American athletic talent on display in Beijing was an inspiring advertisement for the power of both the individual and the state in a democracy. Those wholesome, corn-fed, free-range gymnasts exhuded an honesty that seemed out of reach to the robotic pre-teen Chinese girls, and Michael Phelps' accomplishments renewed the time-worn idea that every individual retains the potential to do what has never been done before.
Even more exciting has been following the nominations for Democratic and Republican candidates for president. The fact that a woman and a black man were the two main contenders for the Democratic nomination is an astounding development in the advancement of the American democratic system. The monopoly of American presidential politics since the country's inception by white, anglo-saxon, protestant men has finally been busted. Millions of under-represented, disenfranchised citizens finally feel their votes might actually count for something. As a result of Barack Obama's nomination, the number of voters expected to go to the polls in 2008 will break all records, and this is a true victory for democracy. Even if the Democrats lose, the revolution has been won because a regression to the old domination is unthinkable. The Republicans proved this by choosing a woman to run on the vice-presidential ticket. As conservative and reactionary as she may be, her presence still represents 51% of the citizens of the United States and their stake in the future of the country.
So, as a proud American, what messages can I bring back with me to Israel and our Palestinian neighbors this year? First of all, change is a good thing. We are a work in progress and we must continue to search for new options, new formulas and new leaders. It always seems safer to rely on the familiar but perhaps the keys to our most difficult issues are lying in an unobtrusive place, waiting to be discovered? Tzipi Livni is the most promising face in Israeli politics today. The Israeli WASP (white, ashkenazi, smolani (left-wing) paratrooper) old boys club is always quick to put down a woman for being soft and militarily inexperienced, but I have long maintained that if women were running the Middle East our conflicts would have been solved long ago. Livni is extremely intelligent, hard-working, pragmatic and honest and her lack of an army career means she will be much more capable of thinking outside the narrow, formulaic box of retired generals. Viva la difference!
The other message I would like to impart, particularly to the Palestinians, is that even in a healthy democracy change does not take place overnight; it's a painstakingly slow, laborious process that regresses a step backward for every two forward. It took one hundred years after the elimination of slavery before the civil rights act was passed to finally guarantee equal rights to blacks in America, and over forty years since then for a black man to represent a major party in presidential elections. It's a long, uphill slog but it can be, and has been, done. However, to paraphrase an American writer, with dreams come responsibilities. When Barack Obama raised the issue of the failure of black men as fathers to a black audience he demonstrated that the ability to question inwardly and to accept responsibilty for failure is a critical characteristic of true leadership. Is there a Palestinian leader out there somewhere who is capable of galvanizing a nation of under-represented, disenfranchised citizens under the flag of true equality and freedom for all? I doubt it, but being American means you never lose hope.
Even more exciting has been following the nominations for Democratic and Republican candidates for president. The fact that a woman and a black man were the two main contenders for the Democratic nomination is an astounding development in the advancement of the American democratic system. The monopoly of American presidential politics since the country's inception by white, anglo-saxon, protestant men has finally been busted. Millions of under-represented, disenfranchised citizens finally feel their votes might actually count for something. As a result of Barack Obama's nomination, the number of voters expected to go to the polls in 2008 will break all records, and this is a true victory for democracy. Even if the Democrats lose, the revolution has been won because a regression to the old domination is unthinkable. The Republicans proved this by choosing a woman to run on the vice-presidential ticket. As conservative and reactionary as she may be, her presence still represents 51% of the citizens of the United States and their stake in the future of the country.
So, as a proud American, what messages can I bring back with me to Israel and our Palestinian neighbors this year? First of all, change is a good thing. We are a work in progress and we must continue to search for new options, new formulas and new leaders. It always seems safer to rely on the familiar but perhaps the keys to our most difficult issues are lying in an unobtrusive place, waiting to be discovered? Tzipi Livni is the most promising face in Israeli politics today. The Israeli WASP (white, ashkenazi, smolani (left-wing) paratrooper) old boys club is always quick to put down a woman for being soft and militarily inexperienced, but I have long maintained that if women were running the Middle East our conflicts would have been solved long ago. Livni is extremely intelligent, hard-working, pragmatic and honest and her lack of an army career means she will be much more capable of thinking outside the narrow, formulaic box of retired generals. Viva la difference!
The other message I would like to impart, particularly to the Palestinians, is that even in a healthy democracy change does not take place overnight; it's a painstakingly slow, laborious process that regresses a step backward for every two forward. It took one hundred years after the elimination of slavery before the civil rights act was passed to finally guarantee equal rights to blacks in America, and over forty years since then for a black man to represent a major party in presidential elections. It's a long, uphill slog but it can be, and has been, done. However, to paraphrase an American writer, with dreams come responsibilities. When Barack Obama raised the issue of the failure of black men as fathers to a black audience he demonstrated that the ability to question inwardly and to accept responsibilty for failure is a critical characteristic of true leadership. Is there a Palestinian leader out there somewhere who is capable of galvanizing a nation of under-represented, disenfranchised citizens under the flag of true equality and freedom for all? I doubt it, but being American means you never lose hope.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Old City, New Style
This summer Jerusalem inaugurated two modern additions to this ancient epicenter of holiness.
"Old City, New Style" was the catchy slogan in the advertising campaign for the Mamilla mall, the latest temple of the cult of Israeli shopping, conveniently located directly opposite the Jaffa Gate. This previously slummy street that connects the old and new cities has been transformed into a charming avenue of classic Jerusalem stone facades and painstakingly renovated structures to create a unique environment for spending more money. Jerusalemites are now privileged to shop for the same name brands we previously had to journey to the coast of the Philistines to purchase ( in fact, the tv commercial showed the logos being laboriously hauled, a la the ancient Egyptian pyramids, up a steep incline to the Holy City). Tourists now have a respite from the spiritual and educational exhaustion of the four quarters. After a day of religious and political sensory overload and aching feet, they can easily repair to this quaint yet stylish avenue to enjoy a cappuccino, try on Naot sandals, buy a cocktail dress and view the work of local artists inspired by the diversity of the city's landscapes. Finally, a shopping venue with a touch of class and character - it's almost like having a taste of Fifth Avenue in the city, a refreshing change from the seedy discount stores that line Jaffa Road and the mediocrity of the Malcha Mall. The Mamilla mall's intimate proximity to the Old City serves as a reminder that a vibrant, modern society exists alongside the enthralling strata of five thousand years. The mall's easy access from David Street, the main avenue of the Arab market and the latest incarnation of the Decamanus, a central commercial artery of ancient Jerusalem, hints that despite the fancy innovations nothing much has changed here in two thousand years: tourists love to shop!
The second new attraction in Jerusalem is the wonderous and spectacular Chords Bridge at the entrance to the city. Designed by the world-renown Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava, the bridge will transport the trains of the new light rail system over the main intersection at the city's entrance into the central bus station. A suspension bridge, its structure consists of a severe, angled mast rising into the sky for 119 meters and supporting 66 steel cables that wrap around it on one side. Depending on the direction from which it is viewed, it appears as a fantastic bird poised in flight, a space-age aircraft soaring into the sky, a work in progress on a giant weaver's loom or an unabashed middle finger directed at the heavens.
The bridge's exhorbitant cost of 220 million shekels and its location in a congested, unaesthetic section of the city have been relentlessy criticized as wasteful but happily, the naysayers lost this one. Every time I drive past the bridge I am reminded that Jerusalem has been reinvented as a city with a relationship to other cities in the modern world. We are no longer just a metropolis with an ancient wall at its heart, but an urban center with a modern architectural monument as well. In a city that is being slowly strangled by reactionary religious leaders and abandoned by mainstream Israelis, the bridge is a ray of hope that we are not being left behind. Not surprisingly, this light was overshadowed by the scandalous travesty of the bridge's dedication ceremony when teenage girls participating in a dance performance were forced to cover their bodies with long-sleeved garments and their hair with ski caps by ultra-orthodox political hacks from city hall. Jerusalem is tottering on the brink of destruction by Jewish fundamentalists; hopefully, the Chords Bridge is a sign that the future of the city is not yet lost.
"Old City, New Style" was the catchy slogan in the advertising campaign for the Mamilla mall, the latest temple of the cult of Israeli shopping, conveniently located directly opposite the Jaffa Gate. This previously slummy street that connects the old and new cities has been transformed into a charming avenue of classic Jerusalem stone facades and painstakingly renovated structures to create a unique environment for spending more money. Jerusalemites are now privileged to shop for the same name brands we previously had to journey to the coast of the Philistines to purchase ( in fact, the tv commercial showed the logos being laboriously hauled, a la the ancient Egyptian pyramids, up a steep incline to the Holy City). Tourists now have a respite from the spiritual and educational exhaustion of the four quarters. After a day of religious and political sensory overload and aching feet, they can easily repair to this quaint yet stylish avenue to enjoy a cappuccino, try on Naot sandals, buy a cocktail dress and view the work of local artists inspired by the diversity of the city's landscapes. Finally, a shopping venue with a touch of class and character - it's almost like having a taste of Fifth Avenue in the city, a refreshing change from the seedy discount stores that line Jaffa Road and the mediocrity of the Malcha Mall. The Mamilla mall's intimate proximity to the Old City serves as a reminder that a vibrant, modern society exists alongside the enthralling strata of five thousand years. The mall's easy access from David Street, the main avenue of the Arab market and the latest incarnation of the Decamanus, a central commercial artery of ancient Jerusalem, hints that despite the fancy innovations nothing much has changed here in two thousand years: tourists love to shop!
The second new attraction in Jerusalem is the wonderous and spectacular Chords Bridge at the entrance to the city. Designed by the world-renown Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava, the bridge will transport the trains of the new light rail system over the main intersection at the city's entrance into the central bus station. A suspension bridge, its structure consists of a severe, angled mast rising into the sky for 119 meters and supporting 66 steel cables that wrap around it on one side. Depending on the direction from which it is viewed, it appears as a fantastic bird poised in flight, a space-age aircraft soaring into the sky, a work in progress on a giant weaver's loom or an unabashed middle finger directed at the heavens.
The bridge's exhorbitant cost of 220 million shekels and its location in a congested, unaesthetic section of the city have been relentlessy criticized as wasteful but happily, the naysayers lost this one. Every time I drive past the bridge I am reminded that Jerusalem has been reinvented as a city with a relationship to other cities in the modern world. We are no longer just a metropolis with an ancient wall at its heart, but an urban center with a modern architectural monument as well. In a city that is being slowly strangled by reactionary religious leaders and abandoned by mainstream Israelis, the bridge is a ray of hope that we are not being left behind. Not surprisingly, this light was overshadowed by the scandalous travesty of the bridge's dedication ceremony when teenage girls participating in a dance performance were forced to cover their bodies with long-sleeved garments and their hair with ski caps by ultra-orthodox political hacks from city hall. Jerusalem is tottering on the brink of destruction by Jewish fundamentalists; hopefully, the Chords Bridge is a sign that the future of the city is not yet lost.
Monday, June 2, 2008
The John Hagee Imbroglio
News has reached us in Israel of an election-related fracas in the U.S. concerning the endorsement of John McCain by Pastor John Hagee, who allegedly insinuated that the Holocaust was part of God's plan to bring the Jewish people back to Israel.
Without messing in the current debate, I would like to say a few words about John Hagee, with whom I have worked several times over the past ten years and whom I know personally. Pastor Hagee is arguably the prototype of the classic evangelical preacher: he is charismatic, with an enormous booming voice tinged with a deep Texas twang. He has a huge church in San Antonio, reaches millions more people through his television ministry and he raises extraordinary sums of money.
A kind and gentle man, I admit that I was never especially concerned with the messages he preached to the hundreds of participants of his tours I have guided - usually, when the preacher starts preaching the guides go off for a cup of coffee (and anyway, that southern accent always makes me think of white hoods and Mississippi Burning). However, during his visit this past April Pastor Hagee held A Night To Honor Israel, a platform for Christian support for Israel he has developed. Numerous Israeli dignitaries and politicians were in attendance, including representatives of the many Jewish charitable organizations that received a total of more than six million dollars from John Hagee Ministries. Songs were sung and speeches were made, but Pastor Hagee's speech was the main attraction, and I must say that I was deeply moved to hear his message.
Friends and members of the tribe, this is a breed of gentile that is foreign to us. After three thousand years of persecution, even in the twenty first century we are still resigned to remain the object of hatred and scorn by Christians, whether overt or covert. Hence, I had to listen very carefully to John Hagee's speech because I had never heard statements like his from a Christian leader. "I love the Jewish people because they gave me everything that is precious to me: the Bible, the Ten Commandments, the prophets, Joseph , Mary and Jesus." He continued on to say very emphatically that he has no hidden agenda, and the following day at a memorial service at Yad Vashem he declared that "Christian anti-semitism is an oxymoron." And although his political positions on the Israeli issues are heavily right-wing, he has publically advocated for Israel's right to make it's own decisions.
Our Jewish knee-jerk reaction to a person like this is suspicion: what's the real motivation behind the words? Is this a ploy to get our guard down so he can convert us all to Christianity? Or perhaps it's a plot to hasten the war between Gog and Magog? Sorry, gang, none of the above. As outlandish as it sounds, John Hagee is a devoted Christian pastor who deeply loves and respects the Jewish people - that is my personal impression, based on his clearly articulated messages to the sixteen busloads of Christians he brought with him to Israel. This is not an enemy, but rather a close friend and advocate of the Jewish people and Israel who is attempting to rectify centuries of Christian animosity towards us. It is no small task, especially since, ironically, he encounters deep suspicion from many American Jews. Before you write him off as yet another fire-and-brimstone preaching, bible-thumping, anti-semitic southern evangelist get beyond the stereotype. Listen carefully to what he says: he may be our most devoted and powerful friend.
Without messing in the current debate, I would like to say a few words about John Hagee, with whom I have worked several times over the past ten years and whom I know personally. Pastor Hagee is arguably the prototype of the classic evangelical preacher: he is charismatic, with an enormous booming voice tinged with a deep Texas twang. He has a huge church in San Antonio, reaches millions more people through his television ministry and he raises extraordinary sums of money.
A kind and gentle man, I admit that I was never especially concerned with the messages he preached to the hundreds of participants of his tours I have guided - usually, when the preacher starts preaching the guides go off for a cup of coffee (and anyway, that southern accent always makes me think of white hoods and Mississippi Burning). However, during his visit this past April Pastor Hagee held A Night To Honor Israel, a platform for Christian support for Israel he has developed. Numerous Israeli dignitaries and politicians were in attendance, including representatives of the many Jewish charitable organizations that received a total of more than six million dollars from John Hagee Ministries. Songs were sung and speeches were made, but Pastor Hagee's speech was the main attraction, and I must say that I was deeply moved to hear his message.
Friends and members of the tribe, this is a breed of gentile that is foreign to us. After three thousand years of persecution, even in the twenty first century we are still resigned to remain the object of hatred and scorn by Christians, whether overt or covert. Hence, I had to listen very carefully to John Hagee's speech because I had never heard statements like his from a Christian leader. "I love the Jewish people because they gave me everything that is precious to me: the Bible, the Ten Commandments, the prophets, Joseph , Mary and Jesus." He continued on to say very emphatically that he has no hidden agenda, and the following day at a memorial service at Yad Vashem he declared that "Christian anti-semitism is an oxymoron." And although his political positions on the Israeli issues are heavily right-wing, he has publically advocated for Israel's right to make it's own decisions.
Our Jewish knee-jerk reaction to a person like this is suspicion: what's the real motivation behind the words? Is this a ploy to get our guard down so he can convert us all to Christianity? Or perhaps it's a plot to hasten the war between Gog and Magog? Sorry, gang, none of the above. As outlandish as it sounds, John Hagee is a devoted Christian pastor who deeply loves and respects the Jewish people - that is my personal impression, based on his clearly articulated messages to the sixteen busloads of Christians he brought with him to Israel. This is not an enemy, but rather a close friend and advocate of the Jewish people and Israel who is attempting to rectify centuries of Christian animosity towards us. It is no small task, especially since, ironically, he encounters deep suspicion from many American Jews. Before you write him off as yet another fire-and-brimstone preaching, bible-thumping, anti-semitic southern evangelist get beyond the stereotype. Listen carefully to what he says: he may be our most devoted and powerful friend.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
This Passover I Joined the Exodus
On October 3, 1985 I made aliyah to Israel at the age of twenty-three. This year, in 2008, the count will be evened: I will have spent twenty-three years of my life in Israel. After periodically reflecting on this milestone I decided to do something quintessentially Israeli: to leave the country for passover.
Looking ahead last winter at a work calendar overloaded for the long and unusually healthy tourist season, a relaxing vacation for the whole family seemed in order. I booked us into a resort hotel in southwestern Turkey - all inclusive. The idea of leaving took some getting used to; after all, passover in Israel is the ultimate Jewish experience. It begins with a cleaning frenzy that crescendos up to the night of the seder. It then continues with food, food, more food and hoardes of Israelis at every leisure attraction in this small country. It's the retelling of the exodus, it's the personalization of Jewish history, it's the covenant at Mount Sinai, it's the reexamination of the Jewish people's future and it's matzah. Matzah pizza, matzah lasagna, matzah felafel - until it emerges from all one's orifices, one crusty crumb at a time - except from, well, you know...
In the past I always felt obligated to participate in this dubious extravaganza of the Jewish establishment, but this year I liberated myself. We celebrated the seder with a mostly American crowd. We sang corny passover songs set to American classics (eg "Take Me Out to the Ball Game") and read the haggadah in English - just like in the old country. Two days later we were out of here.
How can I sing the praises of Turkey and the Hillside Beach Club sufficiently? After a short plane ride and no time change we landed near the Aegean Sea and drove along a green, mountainous coastline until we reached the resort, nestled in a private, idyllic cove on the beach. Just looking out the window of the hotel room soothes the soul immediately. When we said we were from Israel no one asked us why we were torturing the Palestinians in Gaza; all they wanted to know is if we were coming to play beach volleyball. The clientele is very international; judging just from what people were reading on the beach there were plenty of Turks, Germans, Brits, Dutch and Russians. Even though there were several hundred Israelis there with us we barely felt their presence.
And best of all - there wasn't a matzah in sight. In the enormous dining room, on the buffet overflowing with pasta, seafood, chinese, grilled meats, salads, cheeses and what not there was not a single morsel of unleavened bread. The waiters practiced their three Hebrew phrases on us every day but nobody mentioned the words 'passover,' 'exodus' or 'matzah.' No one asked us if we felt guilty betraying the Jewish people and no one cared what we ate. They just wanted us to have a great time - and we did.
And so, passover of 2008 will be remembered in my family as the most enoyable, relaxing vacation we've had in a while. A true festival of freedom.
Looking ahead last winter at a work calendar overloaded for the long and unusually healthy tourist season, a relaxing vacation for the whole family seemed in order. I booked us into a resort hotel in southwestern Turkey - all inclusive. The idea of leaving took some getting used to; after all, passover in Israel is the ultimate Jewish experience. It begins with a cleaning frenzy that crescendos up to the night of the seder. It then continues with food, food, more food and hoardes of Israelis at every leisure attraction in this small country. It's the retelling of the exodus, it's the personalization of Jewish history, it's the covenant at Mount Sinai, it's the reexamination of the Jewish people's future and it's matzah. Matzah pizza, matzah lasagna, matzah felafel - until it emerges from all one's orifices, one crusty crumb at a time - except from, well, you know...
In the past I always felt obligated to participate in this dubious extravaganza of the Jewish establishment, but this year I liberated myself. We celebrated the seder with a mostly American crowd. We sang corny passover songs set to American classics (eg "Take Me Out to the Ball Game") and read the haggadah in English - just like in the old country. Two days later we were out of here.
How can I sing the praises of Turkey and the Hillside Beach Club sufficiently? After a short plane ride and no time change we landed near the Aegean Sea and drove along a green, mountainous coastline until we reached the resort, nestled in a private, idyllic cove on the beach. Just looking out the window of the hotel room soothes the soul immediately. When we said we were from Israel no one asked us why we were torturing the Palestinians in Gaza; all they wanted to know is if we were coming to play beach volleyball. The clientele is very international; judging just from what people were reading on the beach there were plenty of Turks, Germans, Brits, Dutch and Russians. Even though there were several hundred Israelis there with us we barely felt their presence.
And best of all - there wasn't a matzah in sight. In the enormous dining room, on the buffet overflowing with pasta, seafood, chinese, grilled meats, salads, cheeses and what not there was not a single morsel of unleavened bread. The waiters practiced their three Hebrew phrases on us every day but nobody mentioned the words 'passover,' 'exodus' or 'matzah.' No one asked us if we felt guilty betraying the Jewish people and no one cared what we ate. They just wanted us to have a great time - and we did.
And so, passover of 2008 will be remembered in my family as the most enoyable, relaxing vacation we've had in a while. A true festival of freedom.
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