Blog Monday 6/17/13, The occupation lives at home
Sami
Abou Shahadeh, Tel Aviv-Jaffa Municipal Council Member and semi permanent
graduate student in modern history at Tel Aviv University, notes with a mixture
of bluntness tinged with irony, “Our state is killing our people since its
establishment as part of daily life and it didn’t stop in ’48.” So much for the
happy co-existence fantasies for the “mixed cities” in Israel.
Sami
explains that until the Second Intifada, the one million Palestinians with
Israeli citizenship were largely invisible, despite being 20% of the population
and living under military occupation until 1966. Only 9% of such
Palestinians currently live in mixed cities. Jaffa, like Lyd and Haifa, have
Arabs and Jews demographically living together, but not in actuality and there
is minimal public conversation about the racism fundamental to this reality.
Jaffa
joined Tel Aviv in 1950 as a southern suburb of one combined municipality, but
the city is one of the oldest in the world, dating back some 6,000 years.
During the past 200 years the city was transformed by the Jaffa orange export
economy, becoming one of the largest Arab cities in the world with a population
in the vicinity of 120,000 with thousands of unregistered Arab workers from all
over the world. The southern neighborhood of Ajami developed in the 1800s
and was a center of economic, cultural, and intellectual activity. Tel
Aviv was founded in the early 1900s by several Jewish families as a northern
Hebrew neighborhood of Jaffa and exploded in population over the decades. The
story of Jaffa and Tel Aviv is a microcosm of the story of the Nakba, the
Palestinian experience of 1948.
Jaffa
was occupied in 1948 and many terrorized inhabitants fled, leaving a few
thousand “present absentees” herded into the fenced in ghetto of Ajami. The
street names were all changed to Jewish leaders and religious references, the
wealthy Palestinian homes were seized as absentee property although the owners
were often living a few blocks away, some Arab homes were subdivided to absorb
Jewish refugees from Rumania or Bulgaria, leaving the original Palestinian
family in one room with a shared bathroom and kitchen with the Jewish
immigrants.
As
we walk the old stone streets, passing massive gentrification projects,
gorgeous purple bougainvillea cascading over walls, I am struck by the rows of
bike rentals and the big recycling bins; coming from East Jerusalem it is
amazing to see what a funded and functional local government can actually
accomplish. We stop by an old pharmacy dating back to 1924. The
pharmacist’s grandfather graduated with a degree in pharmacy from Istanbul and
came to Jaffa in 1919. In 1915 he joined the Ottoman army. His father
graduated in pharmacy from Beirut and now the son Yusif is carrying on the
family tradition.
We
turn on to Sha’rev Nik Anur Street, formerly Talamas Street and stand in front
of a graceful villa, once the Talamas home, a wealthy Christian Palestinian
family active in the orange trade. They even sent oranges to the Pope!
Oranges were the most important commodity in the Palestinian economy. In
the 1930s, five million boxes of oranges were shipped per year with over 400
million oranges picked, sent to warehouses for individual wrapping in silk
paper, and then sent to the port to waiting ships. (Didn’t I learn in
Hebrew school that the kibbutzim brought agriculture to the region and Arabs
were shiftless and unproductive? But I digress.) Because there was
not enough local labor, starting in the late 1800s, thousands of workers from
Egypt, Morocco, Algeria, and all over the Arab world were brought in. After the
Nakba, Palestinian workers were dispersed all over the Arab world and this
elegant old mansion was turned into eight apartments, “A travesty,” comments
Sami.
We
continue wondering towards the majestic Mediterranean and Sami explains that
there are 17 neighborhoods in Tel Aviv/Yafo and Ajami is the “weakest.” We snap
photos of magnificent mansions, old wealthy Palestinian homes facing the sea,
now gentrified and selling for many millions as the locals are priced out
of existence with nowhere to go. This is clearly expulsion via the free
market. One of the for sale signs on a gorgeous seaside apartment is
being sold by a company appropriately misnamed, “Home Land.”
Sami
reviews the attack on Jaffa in 1948, the lack of any Arab army defenses, the
violent siege and expulsion, and the clear Zionist intent to create a Jewish
state without any of the bothersome indigenous inhabitants. Jaffa went
from 120,000 people to 3,900 with the remainder killed or scattered all over
the Arab world. For those who remained, the trauma is unimaginable.
Street signs were Judaized, children and parents separated, lost, injured,
mothers gave birth in the midst of the fighting, friends disappeared. (Perhaps
Jews should be able to empathize with this history?)The remaining Arabs were
rounded up and fenced into the neighborhood of Ajami which European Jews fresh
from their own catastrophe, aptly named “the ghetto.” Those who fled beyond the
state borders were now declared “enemies,” although Sami remembers his
grandfather taking a train to Beirut which he considered part of his world. The
survivors were not allowed to ask what happened to their lost relations, “Where
is my mother?” because she was now part of an enemy state, if she was alive at
all. The physical and emotional trauma and loss were profound.
Normal social expectations like weddings, court systems, dressmakers, carpentry
shops, five hospitals all disappeared in the war and its aftermath. Sami
exclaims ironically, “Now we are a minority in our homeland and the Israelis
are immigrating to us.”
For
Sami, the second Nakba was the seizing of all Palestinian property, libraries,
possessions, “The biggest armed robbery in the twentieth century.” Under
the Absentee Law, all Palestinian property was counted as “neglected property”
if the owner was not present in the home from which he had just been expelled
and tossed into Ajami ten minutes away. Even more painful for the Jaffa
Palestinians was seeing their homes, their furniture, their gardens, occupied
by newly arrived Jewish immigrants. Poverty stricken locals would go back to
the now Jewish homes and beg for a blanket or some personal item. Wealthy
factory owners became impoverished workers in their own factories. Wealthy
businessmen like the Hassouneh family, major orange exporters, became workers
in their former orchards. The psychological humiliation was as great as
the physical loss.
The
third Nakba, states Sami, is coexistence. He asked us to imagine the Arab
family sharing their home with the new immigrants who periodically go off to
the Israeli military for a mission in Gaza where that Arab family’s relatives
now live. “Maybe they will kill my brother?” And then the soldier
returns and shares the bathroom and the kitchen. With this further
psychological catastrophe, many men became dysfunctional, drug addicts,
alcoholics, (probably supplied by Israeli soldiers and Bedouins), while the
women coped as women will do. In the course of three terrible years, Ajami
was transformed into a small, poor, criminal neighborhood.
From
the 1960s to 1980s, Ajami was slated for destruction, 3,000 apartments were
razed, engineers planned a park along the water and hotels. The garbage
from the demolished homes was thrown along the beach creating a huge mountain
of toxic materials. Ultimately the plans were scrapped because the chemicals
kept exploding and the area was unsafe to build. It is now a lovely park
with bright new playgrounds and palm trees hiding this dark secret past.
Similar
to West Bank Palestinians, folks in Jaffa were unable to obtain building
permits, renovations occurred with growing families and no place to go, and now
the State is claiming that not only were fines due 40 years ago for the
transgression, but with interest, the fines are now millions of shekels.
Thus 400 Arab families (who are by the way, citizens of Israel), are under
demolition orders due to the crime of renovation. Sami described a host of
other Kafkaesque situations. For instance, the state owns all the houses from
1948 in Ajami, the “owner” pays for 2/3 and the state owns 1/3. The
Palestinian children cannot inherit the house unless they are living with their
parents at least six months before their deaths. But it is also illegal to
live with their parents if they are married, so it is unlikely they will be
there with their dying parents. If I made this stuff up, you wouldn’t
believe me.
Since
the 1990s gentrification and neoliberal market policies have dominate the
scene. Since the welfare state cannot “fix” these problems, let the free
market take over. The wealthy move in and the locals cannot afford to
stay, then schools close, local markets close, “We are a beautiful cemetery of
thousands of houses.” While 5-10% of local Palestinians are doing well, 50% are
on welfare.
The
latest threat is the plan to build national religious Jewish settlements in the
Arab neighbors to “strengthen” the Zionist ideology of lax secular Jews and to
change the demographics of the neighborhoods. Thus the ultra Orthodox
want to “settle in the heart,” ie within the Green Line, and if any settlers
are removed from the West Bank, these right wingers will “burn the State from
within.” Interestingly the Yossi Beilin left agrees that demographics are a
problem, but disagrees with this solution, while the Avigdor Lieberman right is
ready to transfer Palestinians without any further charades. Sami muses,
“So my beautiful eight year old and five year old are demographic bombs,” while
large Jewish families are, “Blessed by children.” He describes a recent
tortured political fight between Palestinian activists and businessmen versus
the settlers. The fight went to the High Court and involved illegal
dealings by the Israeli Land Authority and court decisions wreaking of racism
and cowardness. Mixed cities are now considered the “greatest danger to
Zionism,” and people talk openly of “clean kindergartens, clean schools, clean
neighborhoods.” Racism? Fascism? Echos of the Third Reich?
As
Sami reflects, “We are trying to survive, we lost in 1948 and we have nowhere
to go.” The housing issue is critical but all the city planning is done
by Jews for Jews with no concern for the social impact on the local
community. The problem is, “Most of the wars, we are here and they are
there. Our wars ended but we are here and they are here and this is the
cultural reality.” Sami wonders, what kind of multicultural reality is possible
in this racist reality. What are the rights of the Jews in this situation?
What kind of society do we want to create? He suggests that a mixed
educational system instead of the current Arab, (ie poorly funded and
inadequate), secular Jewish, and Orthodox might be a start. He notes that
already 20-25% of Arabs send their children to secular Jewish schools to get a
better education. But then what kind of history would be taught? Do
you tell Jewish children that their grandfathers ethnically cleansed a whole
city? These are not popular questions to be asking, but that has never stopped
Sami from asking. I do not know whether to scream or cry.
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