At Taste of Limmud, I went to a session on Jewish-Arab coexistence in Israel. The session was specifically about Jewish relations with Arab-Israelis, who are citizens of the State of Israel and live with its borders (not in the Gaza Strip or the West Bank). The discussion was led by Elie Rekhes, head of the Konrad Adenauer Program for Jewish-Arab Cooperation at Tel Aviv University. He answered the question: Why is coexistence important?
Coexistence is difficult because of a paradox of identity. Rekhes described three concentric circles (see image). There is a confounded sense of who is the majority and who is the minority. One of Rekhes’s colleagues put it thus: “An Arab minority with the mentality of a majority, living within a Jewish majority with the mentality of a minority.” This plays out in common feelings of victimhood.
Liberal Zionists should think of the challenge of coexistence as an opportunity to show the world how to treat a minority. Jews, of all people, should know what it feels like to be the minority. And to an extent, Israel treats its minority well. Arabic is an official state language and Arabs have full citizenship. Nevertheless, there is much de facto segregation and even a few attempts at de jure segregation (see the so-called Rabbis' Letter, encouraging Jews not to rent or sell homes to non-Jews.) Liberal Zionists cannot accept this sort of blind racism. Have we forgotten that “we were strangers in the land of Egypt?”
In 1948, there were 100,000 Arabs living in the Jewish state. Now there are 1.5 million. This constitutes 20% of Israel’s population. Of that 20%, 83% are Muslim, 8.5% are Christian, and 8.5% are Druze.
Since the 1993 Oslo accords—the acknowledgement of the PLO as the administrative body of the Palestinian people and territories—Arab-Israelis began to reexamine their relationship with Israel. This reexamination took place on three levels: socioeconomic, political, and national.
On the socioeconomic level, the Oslo accords put the Arab-Israelis in a double periphery: on the one hand from their Jewish neighbors and on the other hand from their counterparts in the West Bank. Only 20% of Jews live below the poverty line, whereas 67% of Arabs live below the poverty line. And though Arab-Israelis may have already been accustomed to this economic disparity, they were suddenly also poorer than Arabs in the West Bank, due to increased international support. This dual periphery caused Arab-Israelis to say, “Why not us?”
On the political level, Arabs suddenly recognized their own political impotence. Arabs have full voting rights in Israel, and there are Arab representatives in the Knesset. But because of Israel’s coalition system, Arab parties have very little influence and are often excluded from coalitions and bargain-making. Political focus shifted from the Arab parties in the Knesset to the PLO.
On the national level, the Oslo Accords unified the Israeli-Arabs. Rather than groups of minorities (Christians, Muslims, Druze), they saw themselves as a single indigenous minority with collective rights. They wanted to be acknowledged. Arabs started wondering how Israel’s national symbols pertained to them—the national anthem, with its references to the “Jewish heart;” the flag, with the Star of David; the state emblem, the Menorah. Some scholars have noted this phenomenon by coining the phrase “Israel is democratic for the Jews and Jewish for the Arabs.”
A more recent turning point was the Second Intifada in 2000. The Arabs’ pent-up anger came out in the form of violence, bitterness, and anti-Israel demonstrations. Jewish political opinions moved rightwards, with the emergence and strengthening of political parties like Israel Beitenu (literally: “Israel, our home”), whose 2009 election slogan was “No loyalty, no citizenship.”
Rekhes asserts that, at the very least, there is recognition of the problem. Recent years have seen a call to positive, constructive solutions. There is a growing number of NGOs dealing with Jewish-Arab issues, working the fields of education, economic improvements, and creating space for encounters between Israelis and Arabs. Furthermore, there is government recognition of the need for improved relations, in the form of the Or State Commission of Inquiry (which should be, in my opinion, only a first step) and a Jewish minister of Arab affairs. Finally, there is recognition among world Jewry, in the form of the Inter-Agency Task Force on Arab-Israeli Issues, a coalition of 93 member-organizations.
From this American’s perspective, there is still much work to be done. If there is to be a two-state solution (which seems to be the obvious solution), I wonder about the fate of the Arab-Israelis. And I’m proud that my girlfriend will spend part of our year in Israel working on Arab-Jewish relations.
1) In its Declaration of Independence (the closest thing Israel has to a constitution), Israel is committed to “equal citizenship and due representation” for its Arab inhabitants
2) In order to preserve Israel’s status as a democracy, co-existence must work
3) It is a moral Jewish imperative
4) It is in Israel’s best economic interests
5) It is important for Israel’s public image
6) It can only strengthen Israel
Liberal Zionists should think of the challenge of coexistence as an opportunity to show the world how to treat a minority. Jews, of all people, should know what it feels like to be the minority. And to an extent, Israel treats its minority well. Arabic is an official state language and Arabs have full citizenship. Nevertheless, there is much de facto segregation and even a few attempts at de jure segregation (see the so-called Rabbis' Letter, encouraging Jews not to rent or sell homes to non-Jews.) Liberal Zionists cannot accept this sort of blind racism. Have we forgotten that “we were strangers in the land of Egypt?”
In 1948, there were 100,000 Arabs living in the Jewish state. Now there are 1.5 million. This constitutes 20% of Israel’s population. Of that 20%, 83% are Muslim, 8.5% are Christian, and 8.5% are Druze.
Since the 1993 Oslo accords—the acknowledgement of the PLO as the administrative body of the Palestinian people and territories—Arab-Israelis began to reexamine their relationship with Israel. This reexamination took place on three levels: socioeconomic, political, and national.
On the socioeconomic level, the Oslo accords put the Arab-Israelis in a double periphery: on the one hand from their Jewish neighbors and on the other hand from their counterparts in the West Bank. Only 20% of Jews live below the poverty line, whereas 67% of Arabs live below the poverty line. And though Arab-Israelis may have already been accustomed to this economic disparity, they were suddenly also poorer than Arabs in the West Bank, due to increased international support. This dual periphery caused Arab-Israelis to say, “Why not us?”
On the political level, Arabs suddenly recognized their own political impotence. Arabs have full voting rights in Israel, and there are Arab representatives in the Knesset. But because of Israel’s coalition system, Arab parties have very little influence and are often excluded from coalitions and bargain-making. Political focus shifted from the Arab parties in the Knesset to the PLO.
On the national level, the Oslo Accords unified the Israeli-Arabs. Rather than groups of minorities (Christians, Muslims, Druze), they saw themselves as a single indigenous minority with collective rights. They wanted to be acknowledged. Arabs started wondering how Israel’s national symbols pertained to them—the national anthem, with its references to the “Jewish heart;” the flag, with the Star of David; the state emblem, the Menorah. Some scholars have noted this phenomenon by coining the phrase “Israel is democratic for the Jews and Jewish for the Arabs.”
A more recent turning point was the Second Intifada in 2000. The Arabs’ pent-up anger came out in the form of violence, bitterness, and anti-Israel demonstrations. Jewish political opinions moved rightwards, with the emergence and strengthening of political parties like Israel Beitenu (literally: “Israel, our home”), whose 2009 election slogan was “No loyalty, no citizenship.”
Rekhes asserts that, at the very least, there is recognition of the problem. Recent years have seen a call to positive, constructive solutions. There is a growing number of NGOs dealing with Jewish-Arab issues, working the fields of education, economic improvements, and creating space for encounters between Israelis and Arabs. Furthermore, there is government recognition of the need for improved relations, in the form of the Or State Commission of Inquiry (which should be, in my opinion, only a first step) and a Jewish minister of Arab affairs. Finally, there is recognition among world Jewry, in the form of the Inter-Agency Task Force on Arab-Israeli Issues, a coalition of 93 member-organizations.
From this American’s perspective, there is still much work to be done. If there is to be a two-state solution (which seems to be the obvious solution), I wonder about the fate of the Arab-Israelis. And I’m proud that my girlfriend will spend part of our year in Israel working on Arab-Jewish relations.
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