“They got us stoned on this conflict”
There is no much of small talk with Honi. Starting with Argentinian Mate-Tea, the conversation slides right into a political discussion about the ongoing Social Protest in Israel. But how can you not be political in a place like this?
“There have been problems, like elsewhere,” Honi says. “We have had a lot of inner conflicts, about the message we wish to send or about people getting too strong or people always talk to the media. But this is insignificant.”
Honi’s hands go up and down while he talks. He says a lot of things, interesting, gripping things, he hardly gives me any time to take out my block and a pen. Honi has been active in the Social Protest right from the beginning, he heard about it from a friend on facebook.
” I believe, all the struggle we have within the protest, with leadership or whatever will go away and be forgotten. What remains is the message that is sent, the change in the state of mind, people wake up and stop living this reality. “
Bar Kaima- Sustainable
The green-walled bar we sit in seems different from every other bar, you can feel an industrious atmosphere.
Everybody is helping out, carrying fruit boxes, crushing ice. They all seem to know each other. It’s hard to tell who is working here and who just came as a guest. Honi shakes a lot of hands while he keeps on talking to me.
“There are all kinds of opinions. A lot of people claim, we should change the system, start a revolution. I personally don’t want a revolution, just look back into the past and see what happend with the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia or what Stalin did in Russia. I think democracy is a good thing. I want the politicians to know that we are watching them, watching them on every movement they make, that we don’t accept their corruption anymore. We want justice! Stop the system to manipulate us.”
I get a menu, it is in Hebrew, a girl with a piercing explains it to me. They only offer vegan food. I go for Focaccia, Honi stays with beer.The bar is called Bar Kaima, a word play, Hebrew for “Sustainable”. It was opened as a cooperative pub by the social protesters just two weeks ago.
The Social Protest started on July 14th in 2011. Initially a group of hundred people established tents in the Rothschild Boulevard in the center of Tel Aviv. It was supposed to be a symbolic protest against the high renting prices in Tel Aviv. Soon, other protesters with different topics joined. The movement expanded and found its peak in August when over 450,000 protesters took the street. The tents on the Rothschild Boulevard charged the protest with a festival-like atmosphere. People gathered to sing, paint and discuss.
“We want our Welfare State back”
The protesters min topics are the high cost of living, for example the rising cheese-price, and the high rent. To rent a 1-room apartment in Tel Aviv you pay around 835.16 $.This goes along with the cuts on social programs like the one on public housing.
“We want our Welfare State back,” Honi states. “Israel has changed from a welfare state to a neoliberalistic one. We want regulation against high cost of living and cuts on social programs.”
Another proble
m is to growing number of contract workers. Even public institutions employ security guard, cleaners, etc. on a temporary base. These workers are not protected by labor laws. At the same time labor unions have loosened their political influence.
Somebody calls from the kitchen, interrupting us, there is no Focaccia, I get some sort of Pizza, with Zaatar, a very delicious spice, on it.
In October the protest ebbed, tents were removed by the police. It seemed like the summer of resistances died out, when winter set in.
“People got tired. They still have to work, have they families, they couldn’t stay in the tents forever,” Honi explains. “But we still are supported by large parts of the population, even though not everybody is marching with us. The last year’s protests, when up to 5% of the population took the streets, have woken up the people and politicians have to react, that is a huge success.”
There have been some achievements made
“I can sense, that there is fear. I’m telling you this as a person, who works for the government. People there are aware of what is going on in the streets. Just recently some ministers refused to take a new BMW for government vehicle, ” Honi says.
“I am not a person, I am not a human being, I am a walking money bill”
Last year during the protest, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu appointed a committee, the Trajtenberg Committee, to propose solutions to Israel’s socioeconomic problems.
And just a week ago the Knesset (the Israeli parliament) passed a law to control the high haircuts given to the big Israeli companies.
The new law includes the appointment of a commissioner to ensure that managers of public savings will not be allowed to agree to debt settlements involving discounts that serve the purposes of indebted companies at the expense of savers. One deputy called it a victory for the public against the system.
But for the protesters the problems haven’t been solved, this is why in early 2012 groups tried to revive the protest, and this time try to set up more specific demands.
In the hands of the tycoons
We’ve left the bar and are now on our way to meeting point for the new Demonstration. Sun sets, it is Saturday night, the end of the weekend, since the Israeli weekend starts with Shabbat on Friday afternoon.
On our way to the meeting point for tonight’s protest Honi explains me about the so called tycoons, about the 6 or 7 families that control the Israeli economy.
This big Israeli Business Magnate got large loans from the banks, to expand their businesses. Many of the tycoons invested the money overseas, cut into struggle due to the financial crisis. Like Nochi Dankner, who is the main owner of a large investment company called IDB Group through which he is holding many different companies like Koor Industries. Koor Industries lost 30% of the value inside three months because of speculation in Credit Suisse stock.(Check: Haaretz )
Most of the tycoons like Dankner get debt settlement. According to the Israeli Financial Newspaper Globes, there were 53 debt settlements totaling NIS 15.8 billion in the past three years. (Check: Globes)
“Our money is used for credits for these tycoons. And when they cannot pay back their money, they get haircuts. This is not fair, no one cuts our debts,” Honi complains.
Mourning for the protester, who set himself on fire
We arrive a big
group of people, gathering in front of a high building.
Tonight’s marching will be different than the ones that take part every Saturday night. Moshe Silman, the man who set himself on fire during the demonstration a week ago as a protest against being kicked out of public housing, just died the night before.
This is why the protesters meet in front of the public housing company. Although you hear voices claiming it is not fair to blame the public housing company for Silman’s death, since the company also suffers under the cuts on social budgets. You see some sad faces, some angry faces. Speeches are held, people record them with their Smartphones.
Military and violence on the protests
“This year the protests are way more violent, the police going up hard on us,” tells Honi, whowas among the 90 people that got arrested during a protest in June in accuse of pushing a police man. One of Honis friends tells me that this year the military is included. “They have high official sitting in some of the buildings close to us and have us monitored with sensors,” he adds.
Then we start walking. There is no shouting, no clapping, no drumming. The walk is supposed to be quiet to mourn the death of Silman.You see all kind of people during the marching: Students, greyheaded Ladys, young parents pushing baby strollers.
We pass a man playing Sinatra’s “I did it my way” on his trompete.
Then we arrive at the place where Silman sets himself on fire, a week ago. People put candles and flowers on a white blanket on the ground. More speeches are held, some end in yelled discussions. As Arab woman holds a speech on how the protest brought Jews and Arabs together, a man bursts out into angry shouting. Protesters try to calm him.
“They got us stoned on this conflict”
“They got us stoned on this conflict, so we don’t think about all the other stuff, and meanwhile they steal from us,” Honi says. “We feed the occupation with our money, taxes, the cuts on social budgets, everything goes to the military, to root in some settlements,” Honi explains me while we try to find our way through the crowd. (If you want to read more about it: check out this blog)
“You have to understand, that the external threats, the eventually upcoming war with Iran, is not affecting our daily life. We live this parallel live. It sounds surrealistic, but there is a political live and a daily life. The Political life affects us, every now and then, meanwhile we have other problems, like finding a job, paying the rent.”
We arrive the end of the demonstration. Soon, people start to spread. It is late, the next day is another working day.
Talking about the weather
Israelis love to talk about the weather. Every conversation starts with a little chat about current temperature. It basically goes like this.
“It’s so hot. I hate the heat; I want to leave and go somewhere, where it’s cold,” they say.
“You shouldn’t say this. You are so lucky to live here. I hate the cold,” I answer.
“Oh I would love it. When it’s cold, you just put on more clothes. But here… you can’t take of any more clothes. Even if you go naked you still sweat.”
“Not at all, there is a limitation to it. During winter you still feel cold, and it makes your fingertips numb and your face burn!”
“I would still love it. Here you sweat just by crossing the street. You have to shower all the time!”
“And it rains. It rains so much! Whenever you leave the house you have to make sure to take a warm jacket and an umbrella with you. You just put on some shorts and a shirt.”
“See, that’s the problem. You always wear a shirt and shorts, never put on any cool clothes. “
“In Germany you buy yourself a pretty dress and you never get the chance to wear it. You could combine it with a pair of tights but you still have to cover it with your stinky, grey raincoat before you leave the house. It doesn’t do any difference what you are wearing”
The debate is getting heated. It’s time to underline our points.
We take out our smartphones. They show me pictures of their vacations to the Giant Mountains in the Czech- Republic, to Seattle or some other snowy place. I show them pictures of my university gotten flooded by thunderstorms.
There is no chance one of us gives in. After a while we just give up. We shake our heads in disbelief at so much naivety. Then we order a beer. They order a Guinness, I have a Goldstar
These talks make me smile. They hold up a mirrow to me, making me realize how stubborn and alike we all are: Live is always greener on the other side.
“Was wollen Sie in Israel?” -“Why are you going to Israel?”
„Was wollen Sie in Israel?“
Die Beantwortung dieser Frage ist ziemlich komplex, ich müsste weit ausholen, doch das Umfeld lädt nicht zu großen Ausschweifungen ein. Ich stehe vor einem schwarzen Pult, unweit des Check-In-Schalters, an dem ich gerne meinen Koffer aufgeben würde. Hinter dem Pult steht ein junger Mann mit pausbäckigem Gesicht und schaut mir streng in die Augen. Er heißt Ariel. Den Nachnamen habe ich nicht verstanden als er sich mir vorstellte und mir gleichzeitig meinen Reisepaß abnahm.
Ich halte mich an die Fakten, fange an zu erklären, doch weit komme ich nicht. „Was haben Sie studiert?“, unterbricht er mich. Verdutzt antworte ich. Aber wenn man Wirtschaft studiert wird man doch nicht Journalist! Warum haben sie nicht Journalismus studiert? Die Frage habe ich mir selbst schon oft gestellt, aber ich fühle mich jetzt nicht danach, das mit ihm hier auszudiskutieren. Er lächelt höflich, aber er lässt nicht locker. Journalist kann man auch in Deutschland sein, warum will ich gerade nach Israel?
Je mehr ich erkläre umso mehr hakt er nach. Das Pult und die penetrante Fragerei geben mir das Gefühl, ich befände mich in einer Mädchenschule zur wilhelminischen Zeit. Anstatt mit dem Rohrstock pocht Ariel mit meinen Reisepass leicht auf das Pult, während ich nach Antworten suche. Das Gespräch dauert jetzt schon eine Weile an, 10-15 Minuten. Sehnsüchtig schaue ich auf die Leute an den Pulten neben uns. Die meisten, die mit mir angestanden haben, durften schon längst zum Check-In-Schalter weiterziehen.
Ariel ist ungefähr so alt wie ich. Er lächelt ununterbrochen, um seine Mundwinkel krauseln sich drollige Fältchen. Doch sobald ich zu einer Antwort ansetze, durchdringt er mich mit seinen prüfenden Blicken. Ich würde gerne wissen, was er über meine holprigen Erklärungen denkt, seine Mine ist unergründlich. Habe ich denn nicht endlich alles gesagt, was er hören will?
„Glauben Sie denn Haaretz ist eine bedeutende Zeitung?“, fragt er, nachdem er mich zuvor schon eine Weile zu meinem Praktikum ausgefragt hat. „Ja kennen Sie sie denn nicht?“, platz es wütend aus mir heraus. Er lächelt freundlich, „Aber natürlich!“
Dann schiebt er meinen Reisepass ein wenig in meine Richtung und sagt mit seiner sanfter Stimme und dem leichten Akzent: „Ich habe nicht genau verstanden. Warum genau wollen Sie nach Israel?“
Hätte ich vorher meinen Reiseführer gelesen, oder mich im Internet informiert, wäre mir bewusst gewesen, dass diese Art von Sicherheitsvorkehrungen bei Flügen nach Israel gang und gäbe ist. Von Reisen in die USA ist man ja schon einiges gewöhnt, doch bei den israelischen Sicherheitsvorkehrungen geht es nicht nur darum, eine Bombe, sondern auch den Bomber ausfindig zu machen.
Besonders ausgefragt werden arabische Fluggäste, Menschen mit nicht eindeutig definierten Berufen wie Künstler oder Journalisten und allein reisende Frauen, da diese von Terroristen verführt und zu Selbstmordattentaten getrieben worden sein könnten. Die Sicherheitsbeamten versuchen durch gezielte Fragerei Widersprüchlichkeiten zu finden und so einen Attentäter zu entlarven.
Bei der von mir gewählten israelischen Fluglinie El Al sind die Sicherheitsvorkehrungen besonders streng. Auf Flugzeuge dieser Linie sind schon mehrfach Terroranschläge versucht worden. Die Flugzeuge fliegen mit bewaffnetem Personal, auf dem Rollfeld wird die Maschine von Sicherheitsfahrzeugen geschützt, die Star- und Landebahn wird kurzfristig abgeändert. Die Fluglinie besitzt eine abgetrennte Sektion im Terminal, wo sie eigene, von israelischen Sicherheitsbeamten durchgeführten, Security-Checks betreibt. (Siehe Focus, N-TV)
Im Nachhinein bin ich froh, das vorher nicht gewusst zu haben.Man kann sich anscheinend daran gewöhnen, die mitreisenden Israelis und Araber ließen die Prozedur mit stoischer Ruhe über sich ergehen. Die Sicherheitsbeamten sind dabei äußerst zuvorkommend. Während ich in einem kleinen, neonbeleuchteten Raum meine Schuhe durchleuchtet bekomme, kriege ich ein Glas Wasser und ein Prospekt über Israel. Eine Beamtin plaudert mit mir über meine Hose und Vero Moda. Da ist es fast gar nicht mehr so schlimm, dass sie gerade den gesamten Inhalt meines Handgepäcks auf einen Metalltisch ausschüttet.
“Why are you going to Israel?”
The answer to this question is quite complex, I would have to go far afield, but the environment does not invite too much excess. I stand in front of a black panel, near the check-in. Behind the desk stands a young man with chubby-cheeked face who gives me a stern look . His name is Ariel, I did not understand the last name, when he introduced himself to me while he took my passport.
Why are you going to Israel? I stick to the facts, try to explain, but he doesn’t let me go very far. “What didn’t you study?”, he interrupts. I reply. “But if you studied business you cannot work as a journalist! Why did not study journalism? That is a good question, I have asked myself many times, but I don’t feel like discussing this with him now. He smiles politely, but he won’t give up. “You could also be a journalist in Germany?”
The more I try to explain the more he keeps on asking. The desk and the insistent questioning make me feel as if I were in some girls’ school during the Wilhelmine period. Instead of using the cane Ariel throbs with my passport on the desk while I search for answers. The interview has already lasted for a while, 10-15 minutes maybe. Wistfully I look at the people at the desks next to us. Most of those who stood with me moved on to the check-in desk long ago.
Ariel is about as old as me. He smiles constantly, showing funny wrinkles around his mouth. But once I start to answer one of his questions, he looks as me with this critical looks and the raised eyebrow. I would like to know what he thinks about my clumsy explanation, his face is unfathomable. Haven’t I said everything already, when will this be over?
“So do you think Haaretz is an important newspaper?” he asks after he had already questioned me a a lot about my internship. I start loosing my patience: “Don’t you know it?” He smiles his gently smile: “But of course!”
Then he shifts my passport a little towards my direction, and with his gentle voice and this slight accent he says: “I still don’t understand. Why are you going to Israel? ”
If I had read my guide or informe myself on the internet, I would have known that these type of security procedures are very common on flights to Israel. Travelling to the United States makes you get used to high security standards, but Israeli security measures are not just about finding a bomb, they try to find the bomber.
In particular they question Arab passengers, people with no clearly defined professions such as artists or journalists and women traveling by themselves, as they may have been seduced by terrorists. Through well-directed questioning the security officers try to find inconsistencies in the story you tell them about going to Israel and by this try to detect potential terrorists.
The security procedures of the Israeli airline company El Al which I chosed are especially strict. There have been attempts of terrorist attacks on El Al airplanes several times. Every plane travels with armed personnel, once the machine is on the runway it is protected by special security vehicles. The airline has a separate section in each terminal where they have their own security officials operating.
Looking back, I’m glad I didn’t know about all this before. I believe you get used to it. The Israelis and Arabs who were traveling with me took the procedure with stoical calmness. And I have to admit, the security personnel is extremely courteous. While I got my shoes screened in a small, neon-lit room, I got a glass of water and a brochure about Israel. An officer aked me about where I bought my pants, we started a conversation on Vero Moda. That helped to feel less concerned about her pouring the entire contents of my hand luggage on a metal table.
The Promised Land 