Israel through a Gender Lens

Issue #6: The Pre-Election Edition

In two days, on Tuesday, September 17th, is round 2 of national elections in Israel. Should we expect a re-run of the April 9 elections, or is it time for a new political story? In an article published on Fathom Journal I argue that: “Too much of the Israeli public is passive and willing to vote against its own interests and desires. While more than 50 per cent of the public, Jews and Arabs support some form of a mutual peace agreement, 71 per cent believe that rule over the Palestinian people is wrong and 76 per cent care more about social and economic issues, nonetheless, more than 50 per cent apparently still want the Likud to win the election. Another Israel may be possible, but not until Israelis embrace their political agency”.  Read more here

And people are waking up and are calling their family, friends and neighbors to do the same. With the decrease in women’s political representation, Bokra, an Arabic news and content site, in partnership with the “I am a Woman I Vote” network, launched a social media public education campaign reaching out to Arab women in Israel and encouraging them to make their voices heard on election day. Here are the voices of four inspiring leaders: I am a Woman I Vote

Nivcharot (Elected) the Haredi Women’s Movement launched a video protesting the lack of representation for Haredi women in politics, and specifically in Haredi parties. The video featuring prominent Haredi women leaders and activists, reflects the absurd reality that there are seats for men only. While it may take a while before women can run for office and be elected for local or national office in Haredi parties, these women are an inspiration to all of us. 



Issue #5: Women’s Wisdom

Women Wage Peace: On the Political Power of Knowledge, Solidarity and Hope

Dafna Hacker took us on a journey of feminist her-story, from late 19th century to current days. “Women should not shy away from power”, she said, “and our collective power grows out of our solidarity with women of diverse communities”. Miri Rosmarin urged us to use our political power as women to place our perspectives front and center and to address gender power relations as the infrastructure that enables the continuation of the conflict: “Women have a broader spectrum of political emotions; they bring hope – a powerful political emotion – and the quest for a better future”.

Prof. Miri Rosmarin addresses WWP activists. Photo by Anat Saragusti

Storytelling and Critical Pedagogy

How many of you visited Ofakim, Kiryat Shmona or Yafi’a on your trips to Israel? Not many, if I was to take a guess. These communities, in the north and south districts of Israel are often off the grid of missions and study tours. But if you were to visit them one day, you will find the women activists who are transforming their communities, fostering resilience, agency and hope.
I had the privilege of facilitating two storytelling workshops: one for the women volunteers of the Resilience Center in Ofakim, a small Jewish town in the Negev, and one for members of the General Assembly of Mahapach-Taghir (Transformation), women activists from Jewish and Arab underserved communities. It was an immersive learning experience in intersectionality and a resounding reminder of the sheer power of stories in constructing critical thinking.
Ask a woman curious, appreciative questions, and the stories will pour out like a fountain, rich with memories of formative events, traditions and legacies handed over from one generation on to the next. Ask women to share their stories and they will offer rich narratives of loss and love, pain and pride, hardships and hope. As women to tell you about their journey towards agency, and they will teach you a valuable lesson about resistance and resilience.
They will tell you about aggressions their endured and the abilities they discovered in themselves; about the first time they realized they have the capacity to lead and about the appetite for change that comes with small and big achievements. They will tell you about the support they offered and received and will proudly show off their children who started out as school kids in the communal learning center they helped or the local youth movement they initiated, who are now making their first steps as leaders in their own right.
Next time you come to Israel, make sure you take the time to meet these women and let yourself be found in their stories.

“From Memory to Story” workshop in Ofakim. Photo by Yahaloma Zchut

Issue #4
Local She-roes

If you are following the news from Israel, you know we are going for national elections again in September. In upcoming issues, we will report on what feminist organizations and activists are doing to make their voices heard in national politics. However, un this week’s update, we want to shed light on local initiatives by women who are working to make their cities better and safer for all women and are setting an example for other localities.

Itach-Ma’aki (Together with You) Women Lawyers for Social Justice: City for All

This unique program strives to advance equality for women in Israeli cities by developing and implementing a holistic model for municipal-level gender equality, institutionalizing women’s participation and leadership in local policymaking and making city services appropriate for women’s distinct needs. The ‘City for all’ model is inspired and informed by a community of diverse women created in Rishon Letsion, a Jewish city on the coastal plain. The program operates in Acco and Haifa, two Jewish-Arab cities in the north of Israel, and Tayibe, an Arab city at the heart of Israel, and works to increase effective leadership of Advisers for Gender Equality, integrate gender inclusive structures within city hiring, program design and allocation of resources. To watch a short video about City for All click here 

She-roes of Beit Shemesh

The unholy alliance between institutionalized religion and politics has far reaching implications on the lives of women and girls in Israel; from issue of personal status, through exclusion in the public sphere and being banned from singing in publicly funded events, to lack of political representation in Ultra-Orthodox parties in the Knesset, to name a few.

However, women are putting up a fight and refuse to be excluded and silenced. Such is the case of a group of amazing women in Beit-Shemesh who, with the help of IRAC – Israel Religious Action Center, have claimed back their city. Dr. Nancy Strichman, an evaluation specialist, lecturer and an avid cheerleader for social change and civil society groups, dedicated a beautiful article on the Times of Israel Blog to these women and their allies:

“A group of local wonder women in Beit Shemesh have an especially large reserve of special powers- courage, unflappable determination and patience- and they have been able to create new alliances to bring change to their city”. Read more here

Issue #3
Elections! Again?

“Prime minister failed to mediate between Lieberman and ultra-Orthodox parties, sending Israel to its second election in six months”, says the Ha’aretz English edition headline of May 30th, 2019.
As a storyteller for social change, I often seek to make sense of political events by having conversations with people. Anger, confusion and deep mistrust in political leadership and its motivations were the responses I encountered this time. “We have yet to heal from the April 9 elections”, people said, referring to the highly toxic and divisive recent campaign.
In seeking to make sense of political events, I am always equipped with my gender lens, my dear and trusted companion that constantly urges me to ask questions such as: “how does this effect women?”, and, “what can women do to change this reality?”. Hence, I turned to my colleague and mentor, journalist and political commentator Anat Saragusti, and asked her to write a short article that will shed light on the dramatic events of the week.

The Banality of Ego
By Anat Saragusti

The main reason behind the decision to take Israel through another election could be summed up with one word: Ego.
Neither advance espionage equipment nor sharp political savvy would have exposed any other reason for the Knesset to convene at the dead of night on May 29 and decide to embark on another election in three months.
The decision has no practicality to it. It’s all personal. Netanyahu claimed to have won the previous election. But when it came time to put his mandate where his mouth is, he failed. The bottom line is Netanyahu couldn’t form a government. And that is why he didn’t win. Furthermore, the negotiations Likud held with its potential coalition partners proved that even the demands set were, how to put it? Completely personal. All they were interested in was the Immunity Law and the High Court Override Clause. These two were meant to provide Netanyahu with a safety net if and when it was decided to indict him after a hearing. These two prerequisites presented by Likud weren’t meant to better the lives of the public, nor Netanyahu’s voters. Neither was designed to deal with the burning issues on the public agenda: A failing health system, social gaps, the deep divides within society, crumbling infrastructures, lagging public transportation, the withering agriculture, a sinking welfare system, the ever-expanding exclusion of women, the precariously escalating incitement against Israel’s Arab citizens, the delegitimization of the left, and above all – for better or worse – the presentation of Trump’s “deal of the century” for the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, which will now be postponed for many months.
Good or bad, the reveal of Trump’s deal could have altered reality, if only for bringing diplomacy back into the agenda, rejuvenate the discourse around peace, and perhaps even lead to some kind of breakthrough.

This decision must be looked at through two different prisms:
A profound crisis of faith in the political system. When everything is personal, when leaders betray the mandate given to them by the public, when cynicism overtakes sincerity, something in the fundamental pact between us, the public, and our elected leaders, is fractured. The contract which states that we vote for them and they promote the issues we care about was not fulfilled.
This crisis painfully expressed itself in the last election with the generally low voter turnout, but particularly low among Arab citizens, who barely crossed the 50 percent threshold.
The second prism is the practical implication of this decision: the continued freeze over all government activity – the way it has been since the last election was announced in December. A transitional government can’t make important calls, further new topics, allocate budgets or anything.

And above it all hovers, of course, the gender perspective.

These ego struggles were played by men. It’s hard not to sink into the poignant notion that what happened was the result of male thinking which considers everything a zero-sum game. It’s either you or me.
The outgoing Knesset, which managed to sit for solely a month, was characterized by an especially low number of women. But that’s only a small part of the picture. If a government had been formed, it is doubtless that not only it would’ve had few women, but that women wouldn’t have had a real seat at the table, and it is highly unlikely we would’ve seen a woman in the security cabinet, where the critical decision regarding state security, war, and the peace process are made.
Neither side of the political map had enough women with experience, or an ambition to sit on these forums. For this to change in the upcoming election seems far-fetched. Issues that matter to women, such as violence against women, equality in the job market, breaking the glass ceiling and more – were not set front and center in the previous election. It seems dubious that parties seeking our votes would make gender the top of their agenda – not simply by the makeup of their slate, but in a more rooted way, which brings to the things that matter to us to the forefront.
So we all lost in these ego games: The politicians who voted against the conscience and interests, the state – which will now descend into heavy spending, the political system itself, and the voting public, of course. What transpired here is a malevolent use of the democratic toolbox.

Many thanks to Daniel Gouri De-Lima for the English translation of the article

Issue #2: Guns, Eurovision and Iftar

It has been yet another busy week in Israel. The public debate concerning the negotiations to form the new government in the shadow of Netanyahu’s “Immunity Law” initiative and the talk of an “Economic Summit” in Bahrein, were the two hot-button issues on the agenda. Oh, and the heat wave.

You can read all about these issues on any Israel English news website of your choice. Hence, in this week’s update, we want to share with you stories you will most probably not find there. But these stories are important; they are inspiring, sometimes disturbing, uplifting. They are the stories of women who are dedicating their lives to making Israel a better place. In this week’s issue, we bring you stories from Women Wage Peace, Gun Free Kitchen Tables Coalition and from Nena Bar, a feminist disability rights activist.

Speaking up about gun violence in our streets and homes

Gun Free Kitchen Tables coalition, comprised of feminist and human rights groups, has petitioned the High Court of Justice to issue an interlocutory injunction to stop the application of criteria promoted by outgoing Public Defense Minister Gilad Erdan, which significantly ease restrictions on carrying civilian firearms. While the court did not grant the injunction, it did order the State to present the work of Ministry staff on the issue. The conversation on this critical issue will continue, thanks to the coalition’s relentless work. Rachel Beit Arieh, founding member of Politcally Corret, a leading independent feminist news and content platform writes:

“Members of the Gun Free Kitchen Tables Coalition, working to minimize the proliferation of arms in the public sphere, say Minister Erdan’s assessment that more firearms means more security, isn’t factually based or rooted in evidence, but relies on the minister’s hunch. “It presents a skewed perception of what security means,” Suchio said”. Click here for the full article

Bursting the Bubble of Exclusion

Last Saturday, Israel hosted the 2019 Eurovision Song Contest in Tel Aviv. Kan 11, the public broadcast corporation, launched a most impressive production, highlighting the wealth of local talent and creativity. For the first time since the contest has been broadcasted, a separate channel was dedicated to making the show fully accessibly to deaf people. Nena Bar, a feminist disability rights leader and advocate wrote in an op-ed column on Tel Aviv TimeOut Magazine about the healing power of been seen, heard and included on and off the stage:

“While all of this did not gloss over the disgrace of the lack of accessibility in the Independence Day ceremony (only a week prior), it shows that here we have it, a revolutionary model that allows us to tell broadcasters: Burst the bubble and learn this new, egalitarian vision presented by Kan. As someone who’s experienced the invalidation of sign language because of an archaic perception of deafness, I felt elevated and complete at the sight of a screen speaking in sign language. The body gives into the vibrant movements of the language in space, and for a moment I felt like I had room in it. In these moments I wanted to reach out and touch the hand of the girl I was, who never watched TV, and say to her – here, it’s happening”. For the full article, click  here

On a bright Friday morning earlier this month, more than 200 Women Wage Peace activists from near and far crowded the lecture hall at Tel Aviv University Faculty of Law for the inaugural session of a new program: Women Wage Peace Talk Security, designed to harness the power of knowledge, theory and practice to increase women’s participation in decision and policy making processes, most urgently in matters of security and foreign policy.
The inaugural session featured two leading scholars in the field of gender studies: Prof. Dafna Hacker, Head of the Gender Studies Program at Tel Aviv University, and Prof. Miri Rosmarin, lecturer at Bar Ilan University and Senior Research Fellow at the Van Leer Institute.


The Importance of Being Hopeful: Women Wage Peace

The importance of being hopeful

A year has passed since the terrible war of last summer, and we were beginning to hope that this summer – aside from the infernal heat – would be more peaceful. But then came the stabbing hate crime at the Jerusalem Pride Parade and the murder of 16 year old Shira Banki, and the terror attack on the home of the Dawabshe family in the village of Duma near Nablus, which has taken the lives of 18 months old Ali Dawabshe, and of his father Sa’ed. The vicious circle of hate and terror and revenge continues, demanding its pound of flesh, there is no respite, and compassion still conceals its face.

Shortly after the horrendous hate crimes, come the wave of condemnations – the genuine ones, as well as those paying lip service – as well as grief and indignation, and the urge to meet and dialogue. And of course there are the politicians who insist on arguing for moral superiority in the face of atrocity, in this aching and bleeding region, which years for a little less of that, and a little more compassion and a little integrity.

But within a few days, public life resume their course, and the grieving families are left alone with the loss; left alone to pick up the pieces of life shattered by hatred.  Daily routine settles in, and the plethora of Neshama candles of condolences from strangers gradually disappear. The Israeli Hebrew press is more interested in the Obama-Netanyahu feud and their battle of the hearts and support of Jewish Institutional leaders, then in those who insist on creating islands of sanity, of human encounters, of listening, of mutual respect.

It is scary to see how quickly the dust of everyday life covers the fresh wounds.

נרות נשמה

That is why I keep going back to the “Protective Fast” tent in Jerusalem, camped across from the Prime Minister’s residence. This campaign of 50 days of fast, marking the 50 days of Protective Edge War, was initiated by Women Wage Peace, a movement I joined since its inception as a member of its steering committee. I keep going back to the tent because there I find the compassion, the human capacity to forgive and fight hatred; I find the ability to have a conversation without storming out, to sing together songs of peace and hope without a shred of cynicism and with great intent.

I am 52 years old, not a girl anymore; I have a very healthy sense of humor, a capacity for sarcasm, and just the right amount of harmless nastiness. And of course, I know that a group of women huddled together and chanting will not bring peace, not on our own, anyway. But, this is a beginning, and it is a persistent and inspiring resistance to despair, to indifference, to inaction, to denial. And as Margaret Mead said, this is the only thing that ever made a difference in this world.

People call us names; naïve, stupid, pathetic, menopausal and deprived of sexual satisfaction. All has been said about women determined to wage peace and then some. But I am 52 and I really don’t mind being called pathetic, naïve, touchy-feely or sticky, oh, and I have earned my approaching menopause fair and square. But as a mother, I wish for a better life for my children, for all children. As I woman, I know that indifference is not more sophisticated than compassion, despair is not wiser than hope, and cynicism doesn’t know anything that faith in the human capacity to heal doesn’t.

In addition, people tell us to go to Ghaza and to Ramallah; they tell us we are barking up the wrong tree. “We” want peace; it is “them” who do not want it. This is a valid argument that merits an honest answer. What I have learned through life, and through our conversations with Jewish and Palestinian women and men who came to tent to support us, to have an open conversation, is not a new thing, but it is important nevertheless. What I have learned is that most people on both sides want to reach a political agreement that will end the violent conflict. There are inspiring people on both sides who suffered terrible losses and grief, yet have found a way to forgive, to reach out and seek like-minded partners.  And on both sides there are those who benefit from the status-quo, from the political power they draw from the standstill in the negotiations and the escalation in violence. There is fear and distrust on both sides; real fear, justified fear, anchored in an impossible reality of violence and revenge.

In addition, there is criticism from the left, as well. Mostly because we attempt to create a movement that reaches out to women from the center and the right (well, soft right); because we strive to be political, but not another anti-occupation movement. Our critics ask: “How can you be political and no talk about the occupation?”. Personally, I agree. I want to talk about the occupation; I want a lively public discourse about the occupation. Yet, I have never demanded nor made my membership in the movement conditional, and I agree that avoiding the issue of the occupation and avoiding laying blame on Israel (or Palestine for that matter) was a wise strategic choice. Women like me, who oppose the occupation, have space where we can be active and vocal. In Women Wage Peace we seek to create a more pluralistic and inclusive space, for women who may not be comfortable with anti-occupation discourse, but who still believe that the only way to achieve sustainable peace is through a mutual and respectful process of negotiations that will lead to a lasting agreement. These women – with whom I may disagree on a host of political issues – are my allies and partners.

It does not mean I am always comfortable with this type of discourse, but them stepping outside of our comfort zone rarely feels comfortable… Nevertheless, being part of a movement means I embrace the fact that it does not represent me 100% all the time. However, I can represent me; I have my own voice, and the capacity and privilege to make my voice heard. Being part of a movement means to discover the benefit – as well as the discomfort – in listening to a woman holding a view different from my own.  Being part of a movement is to understand that the only thing that has ever made a difference in this world are shared actions of people with a shared vision. Being part of a movement is to listen to the woman next to me, recognize that her words are different from mine, and appreciate that the power of movement is in its diversity.

DAVID BROZA“Good will come some day”. Musician and singer David Broza at the Protective Fast Tent.

They say “beauty is in the eyes of the beholder”; in the Protective Fast tent, in our movement, I find beauty and compassion that give me the strength to keep waging peace.

Dedicated to the memory of:

Ali and Sa’ed Dawabshe, son and father

Shira Banki

Victims of hate crimes and terror. May their memory, their lives and loves be a blessing.

From Memory to Hope

As a Jewish-Israeli, woman, Memorial Day has always been a most significant day for me. In 1967, when I was 5, I lost my beloved cousin Nimrod in the Six Day War; and ever since, it has always been a day of profound and contained personal pain. As a feminist and human rights and peace activist, I search for the unheard voices of women; I search for words of solace and compassion.
So when the Rabbi of our small Reform Congregation in Kiryat Yovel in Jerusalem asked me to participate in a Havdalah ceremony, marking the transition from Memorial Day to Independence Day, I felt honored. I knew I would want to write words of solace and compassion, and that I would look for inspiration in the words of wise women, near and far.
Here is what I wrote for the Havdalah ceremony that will take place tonight, at First Station in Jerusalem.

Pain, Memory and Hope
“The soul doesn’t have set holidays,” my grandmother, Gila Gouri of blessed memory, used to say.
Such a short sentence, merely six words, yet in that sentence my grandmother revealed her deepest wisdom and understanding of the human soul: – Our souls do not observe the calendar.
My grandmother’s saying takes on particular significance as we transition from Memorial Day to Independence Day – from the memory of those who fell in battle and conflict to the joyful celebrations of our independence and sovereignty. The transition is difficult, because our souls keep to their own rhythm, and they cannot feel pain or joy according to the cycle of the sun as it rises and sets.

EMILY DEmily Dickenson

“After great pain, a formal feeling comes,” wrote Emily Dickenson in her wonderful poem about the paralyzing, freezing sense of pain that breaks our hearts. This is the pain of loss, the pain we feel when someone dearest of all is no more; the sorrow of the longing that can never end. Perhaps, today, those who have lost their dearest ones feel that pain more sharply. Today, we are called upon to remember not only those who have gone, but also those who carry the pain and memory in their hearts every day and each moment. At this moment of Havdalah, of Transition, we are called upon to recognize that among us are many for whom the memory – whether it is fresh or a memory that they have carried for years – persists and goes on even after the ceremony ends and as the vivid fireworks light up the skies.
And Grandmother Gila also used to say, “We live as long as the living remembers us.” Memory is our way to keep those who have gone among us, to carry them with us. Memory sharpens the pain of loss, but at the same time, it keeps alive the love that we felt towards those who have fallen, maintaining it as a living, breathing emotion.
This moment marks the transition from memory to hope, from pain and loss to the excitement of celebration. The human heart is the strongest of all our muscles. Pain paralyzes and freezes the heart, until it feels that it will break. Joy, love and hope expand our hearts beyond all limits. At this moment of Havdalah, we ask our souls to contract into the pain of memory and to expand into love and hope; at this moment of Havdalah, we call on our hearts to contain both that that brings us pain and that that brings us joy. The heart can do this, we can do this, and this moment of Havdalah is intended to enable us all, as a community, to perform this complicated transition together.
At this moment of transition from holy to holy, we remember those who have died and we commit ourselves before them to do all that is in our power to create life filled with hope and peace and lives filled with compassion.

English translation by Etta Prince-Gibson

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