Tikkun Magazine, November/December 2008 

Where is Israel? Identities Beyond Geography

By David Newman

Where is Israel? A seemingly innocuous question. The answer is simple—take a map of the globe and you will find Israel located at the eastern edge of the Mediterranean Sea, on the western fringe of the region known as the Middle East, hemmed in to the north by Lebanon, to the east by Syria and Jordan, and to the south by Egypt. It's a straightforward question of geography. What could be simpler? Israel is in the Middle East.

But the question is far more complex. Asking "where" a country is brings up complicated issues of identity and self-positioning. And in a country like Israel, where the geographical region is made up of countries that do not want Israel as a neighbor, where the country was established by people who emigrated from another region—Europe—and whose ideas of nationalism and state formation were, to a large extent, imposed upon their new region, the question demands another one—where is Israel? Where does Israel belong and, perhaps more importantly, where does Israel's population self-perceive its location?

Israel in the Middle East

Geographicaly, Israel is in the Middle East. the answer provided by the map would appear to be the correct one. The fact that the country's neighbors do not want Israel in their midst cannot change the facts. They can seal their borders and prevent contact, communication, and trade from taking place, but they can't alter the hard geographical facts. The map does not lie.

For many Israelis, recognition by the neighboring countries and other regional actors that Israel is an integral part of the Middle East would signify the end to conflict. Opening the borders and accepting Israel into the various regional sporting, cultural, and trade organizations encompassing countries from the Mediterranean to the Persian Gulf, and from North Africa to the Asian states of the former Soviet Union, would indicate to most Israeli citizens that Israel's geographical and functional locations have, after sixty years of existence, finally become synchronized, and the country has come home to rest.

Discussions of external locations feed into internal discourses of origin and sense of belonging—in short, notions of collective identity. Over half of Israel's Jewish population came from Middle Eastern and Asian countries. It is members of this Mizrahi (Sephardi) population who, having become empowered during the past decade, argue that the inability of Israel to find its rightful place among its geographical neighbors is precisely because of the strong European bias of the state's founders and the European notions of statehood which emanated therefrom. Were there to be greater understanding of the cultural context of the region, a context that could be provided by the Mizrahi population, then Israel would find it easier to fit into the region. Were the Mizrahi population to take on leadership roles, to lead political and peace negotiations with Israel's neighbors, there would be a greater chance of succeeding where successive Israeli governments and leaders have failed during the past six decades. "After all," the argument continues, "we grew up with them, we know their culture, we know how to talk with them on their terms, using their language.... In short, we know their mindset."

But this is not a position held by the entire Mizrahi population. Equally, there are those who, precisely because of their Middle Eastern origins, argue exactly the opposite: "We know them. We grew up among them. Their values are completely different from ours. We do not belong and will never fit in with them." The contrasting and diametrically opposed narratives concerning the Jewish experience under centuries of Muslim rule in North Africa, Iraq, and Yemen strongly feed into contemporary understandings of Israel's geopolitical identity. Members of the Mizrahi population argue: "We have finally freed ourselves of the yoke of Muslim rule. We do not want to return to the place where we were forced to live in segregated quarters and where we were treated with contempt." The notion of "fitting into" the Middle East is, for them, no more than a Jewish version of European Orientalism, an extension of the paternalism of Israel's founders which was expressed in the way that the early leaders related to and treated the Mizrahi Jews who came as penniless refugees in the early years of the state. The Mizrahi Jews were relegated to secondary economic and political status within "European" Israel, and their culture was perceived as inferior and uncivilized.

So, if the locational glove does not exactly fit the identity fingers, what alternative geopolitical and identity locations does Israel share as it moves into its seventh decade? And, perhaps more importantly, how do these varying regional locations and identities fit in with a younger generation of Israelis, in their late teens and early twenties, who have been born (or in the case of young Russians, immigrated) into a global Israel, who surf the internet, travel the world, speak three or more languages, and have more than one passport? This is a very different identity world than that of their grandparents' generation, the generation of Holocaust survivors and the generation of refugees from North Africa and Iraq, a generation for whom Israel was a safe haven, and for whom the idea of Israel eventually fitting into the geographically limited region remained an overlying aspiration: the aspiration of normality, the aspiration of conflict resolution, of having finally reached their "menuha and nahala" (final resting place). Members of this younger generation view the world differently and feel less geographically constrained in their identities, a sense which is enforced by globalization-era notions of borderless worlds, deterritorialization and identification with the global village. This does not make their individual commitment to their country of birth and its continued survival in a hostile region any less than that of their parents' generation, but the future of Israel is, for them, tied up with global developments, their country being a member of the geopolitical club whose defining elements are determined in New York, Brussels, and Beijing, not just in Jerusalem and Cairo.

A European Alternative?

Perhaps as one alternative to being in the Middle East, Israel is really just an extension of Europe. Founded by Europeans who imposed a European legal system, universities modeled on Germany, and classical music for the elites, coupled with an initial paternalistic disdain for the Orient, Israel's model of nation statehood was a direct diffusion of the late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century models of political emancipation. And, despite the fact that the worst tragedy in the history of the Jewish people took place on blood-soaked European soil, the founding generation instilled the institutions of the state with European culture and mores.

Because of history, a certain ambivalence has always underlain Israeli-European relations. Strong cultural and trade links are balanced against political suspicion and memory of the past. The United States, as a friend and staunch ally, can occasionally criticize Israel and get away with it. Not so the Europeans, who, even if their criticism of Israeli government policies is identical to that of their allies across the Atlantic, are immediately accused of anti-Semitism and continuing the xenophobic tradition of their parents' and grandparents' generations—despite the emergence of the New Europe within which respect for the "other" is assumed to have replaced the racism of the past. Relations between Israel and the European Union hit rock bottom just a few years ago, thanks in no small part to the antagonism displayed by chief EU Foreign Affairs Commissioner Chris Patten (now Chancellor of the University of Oxford). But since his departure in 2004, there has been a rapid turnaround in these relations, with the partners enjoying a postmillennial honeymoon. The shift has no doubt been helped along by the identification of global terrorism and Islamic fundamentalism as a common threat in the post-9/11 era, although it does not prevent European countries from criticizing Israel's policies toward the Palestinians.

Tell Israelis in the street that in order to achieve real lasting peace they would have to withdraw from most, or perhaps all, of the Occupied West Bank and Gaza Strip and, if you could convince them that real peace would result, the majority of Israelis would be prepared to undertake this withdrawal—even those who may be ideologically opposed to such a move for religious or historical reasons. But tell the same Israeli that as a result of peace, the country would finally become integrated into the wider Middle East region and would have to withdraw from the European soccer championship (in which it never gets beyond the second round) or refrain from participating in the Eu-rovision song contest (where it normally accuses the other countries of voting against Israel as a poor excuse for poor songs), and that would be another matter altogether.

The expansion of the EU to include countries in Eastern Europe, such as Poland and Hungary, has opened the door for many Israelis to take up European citizenship and apply for European passports. According to the EU Head of Delegation in Israel, if all of the young Israelis eligible for European passports, by virtue of having parents or grandparents who originated in Europe, were to take citizenship, almost 30 percent of the country's Jewish population would be European. For the remaining first generation Holocaust survivors, as well as the silent second generation, which will have nothing to do with Europe, the idea that their children and grandchildren are opting to become citizens of Germany and Poland tills them with incredulity and anger. But this is exactly what they are doing. Not all young Israelis share their parents' automatic knee-jerk reactions to Europe; they feel quite comfortable traveling to Europe and even consider the option of living and working there. There is a large, widening gap between older and younger generations in this respect, as Israel's fourth generation understands the gravity of the Holocaust era but does not see it as affecting European-Israeli relations sixty years into a new, more democratic and more humane European Union.

Ask the Mizrahi population whether theylike being thought of as an extension of Europe, and their answer will be twofold and contradictory. In the first place many of them will tell you that the European Zionists imposed their ideas on a Middle Eastern culture. Perhaps they won't use exactly the words "cultural imperialism" or "Orientalism," but their feeling of discontent has become even stronger in recent years. And yet, many will also tell you that they want to be part of the "modern, cultured" world (sic), not the "backward" world of the Middle East where religious fundamentalism is on the rise. They maybe accused of becoming pseudo-Ashkenazim, of falling into the trap of Europeanization—but the majority of the younger, integrated, and intermarried generations of young adults prefer the European culture model in all public surveys relating to collective cultural identity and sense ofbelonging. It is perhaps ironic that the push towards oriental empowerment inside Israel is spearheaded by some of the Mizrahi academic elites who have become the most integrated into the European models of higher education and the associated meta-fheories through which they understand the world.

The 51st State of the Union

If the Middle East doesn't quite fit culturally, and Europe hasn't completely brushed off its anti-Semitic tendencies, there is always the United States of America. Perhaps Israel's true destiny is as the 51st state of the USA. Israel and the United States enjoy a strong and friendly relationship, a relationship that has continued with only minor hiccups since President Truman's immediate recognition of the state after the Declaration of Independence in May 1948. At times of crisis, the United States has come to Israel's assistance. Even when White House administrations have pressured Israel a bit more, such as the Eisenhower administration during the Sinai Campaign in 1956, orthe George H.W. Bush administration, which dragged the government of Yitzchak Shamir to the Madrid peace talks against Shamir's wishes, these actions were never more than aberrations in what is a warm relationship. Israel sees the United States as its one true partner, and the past two administrations of Bill Clinton and George W. Bush have proved that it doesn't make a great deal of difference whether there is a Republican or Democratic president in the White House.

But this is more than simply a political and strategic relationship. America is perceived in Israel pretty much along the lines laid down by the founding fathers—a land of equality, opportunity, and equal representation. The strong pro-Israel lobby ensures that Israel's interests are always safeguarded, while these interests do not apologize for what is increasingly seen as undue influence á la Walt and Mearsheimer (see Tikkun, September/October 2007). America is the number one destination for many Israelis who opt to reside outside their country of birth, with many of them having succeeded beyond their wildest imaginations in business, real estate and within the halls of science and technology. Israel is the number one recipient of U. S. foreign aid, and on any visit to Israel an American president is greeted as one of the family. There is probably no other country in the world, including the United States itself, where the degree of support for the invasion of Iraq remains as high as in Israel, not least because it resulted in the removal of a potential threat in the immediate region.

The Israeli urban and commercial landscapes have become Americanized, with out-of-town drive-in shopping malls and McDonald's where kibbutzim and moshavim used to farm their agricultural land. Western-style detached suburban housing has filled the once Spartan landscape and, until the recent collapse in the value of the dollar, it was U.S. currency rather than the shekel that determined the financial development of the country. For many Israelis, America is truly the goldene medinah to be aped, while success and normality is measured in relation to the levels of development in North America.

There is only one thing that troubles Israelis with respect to the United States—it is so far away. The 51st state suffers from a geographic problem. However, in an era of globalization, cyberspace, and continuous flights between New York and Tel Aviv, the negative impact of real physical distance is slowly being replaced with the relative proximity of functional distance. And as for those whose historic or religious attachment to the specific piece of land called Eretz Yisrael is not important, they would not necessarily object if the little state of Israel were miraculously transported as a small territorial exclave inside one of the larger states of the United States—after all, Israel and all of the Occupied Territories together cover an area of land no larger than 25,000 square kilometers, equal to the smallest states of the Union, and covering no more than a minute percentage of the larger land tracts in California and Texas. Of course, this suggestion does an injustice to the vast majority of Israelis who, despite their dreams of America, are strongly attached to their ancient homeland and have no intention of physically relocating. But the United States is not Uganda of the early twentieth century and there is much about Israel today that reminds the first-time visitor of the vigor, the dynamism, and the brashness of the American success story.

So it is perhaps not surprising that when asked which geopolitical and identity location they prefer, the majority of Israelis choose the United States over either the Middle East or Europe. What is perhaps more surprising, however, is the fact that the percentage choosing the North American dream for their preferred model of Israel is higher among the Mizrahi population than it is among the Ashkenazi inhabitants of the country. This finding seems to run in the face of the argument that Europeans maintain ties to Western culture, while Mizrahim retain stronger ties to Oriental culture. But it also tells us something about the process of economic and social adaptation of the younger generation of Israelis, who feel less tied to their parents' places of origin and see themselves as members of the global village.

A Borderless World

Notwithstanding these geographical attachments to specific places and their associated cultures, Israel retains its sense of uniqueness. We can identify additional concepts that break open the idea of bounded space, while still focusing on Israel as the Jewish Homeland. These concepts do not run contrary to the ideas of Israel as part of the Middle East, Europe, or the United States, but complement them and, to a certain extent, mediate the way in which many Israelis perceive their position in the world.

First is the idea that, as the state of the Jews, Israel is a country without borders. This ties in with notions of borderless worlds, ideas which have become prevalent as part of the globalization discourse—as though fixed borders and demarcated territories are no longer part of the way in which the world is ordered and managed. The Law of Return enables Jews anywhere to take up Israeli citizenship. With few exceptions (such as the infamous case of American gangster Meir Lansky), Jews around the world have been encouraged to immigrate to Israel (to make "aliyah") and to become part of the Jewish national enterprise. The definition of who exactly constitutes a "Jew" remains split between cultural and strictly orthodox definitions, in a country where Jewish-Arab demography has taken on a major role in the determination of future population scenarios and the ultimate security of the state. Not surprisingly the state has favored as wide and flexible a definition as possible as a means of increasing the number of Israeli citizens; so Russian immigrants, regardless of their Jewish roots, as well as long-lost tribes in India and elsewhere, were sought out and encouraged to take up their rights of citizenship and thus swell the ranks of the Jewish majority. This is, paradoxically, the manipulation of global diversity as a means of strengthening national and ethnic exclusive identity in its political context. It enables anyone identified as a Jew (or potential Jew if simplified conversion processes are taken into consideration) to become a member of a state that, at one and the same time, is defined in narrow national terms (a Jewish state) and is increasingly multicultural and ethnically diverse.

Within this borderless (and hence global) world, Israel reinforces its exclusivity. Jews from anywhere can obtain automatic citizenship, regardless of where they were born and grew up, or whether they can read or speak the national language. For their part, Palestinian and Arab residents of the country are at best citizens, and in some cases are even denied citizenship on the grounds that they have been away too long or cannot prove their place of birth. This is part of apolitical battle over demography, with demographic majorities determining the way in which long-term security, beyond the simplistic military understanding of security, is achieved by the Jewish state for the benefit of its (Jewish) citizens.

Orthodox Jews may not accept the government's definition of what constitutes a Jew, but they—perhaps more than any other group—express a borderless world. They do not identify with the secular state of the Jews, but the territory which constitutes the Holy Land of Israel is an important construct in their identify' and their daily religious rituals and practices. Religious and Orthodox Jews throughout the world cross state borders as though they were of no relevance. They marry between themselves, study in each other's institutions, and closely observe and adhere to the same strict practices. One only has to look at the ultra-Orthodox websites and newspapers to see a world in which the geographical location labeled Israel plays a prominent role but is no more than one place within which the functions (such as yeshivot, means of sustenance), rather than location, determine each place's relative importance. Within this borderless world of Jewish Orthodoxy, Lakewood, Monsey, Williamsburg, and Stamford Hill are almost as important as Meah Shearim and Bnei Braq. Together they constitute a network of disconnected spaces and places within the borderless world of Haredi Jewry.

But the idea of a borderless, easily negotiable, world works in both ways. It is not a new phenomenon that so many Israelis have opted to relocate elsewhere in the world. Changing notions of identity means that they are no longer derogatorily referred to as "yordim" but simply as economic migrants. This change in attitude has meant that they now retain stronger cultural and economic links with their family of birth, and that Israel now has its own Diaspora community, linked to the country not only through ties of Jewishness, but by virtue of citizenship and having been born in the country. Globalization and the ease of travel have also given rise to a commuter population of Jews who have relocated their families to Israel but continue to work as successful businessmen and professionals in London, Paris, and New York, and who return home (to Israel) on a weekly or fortnightly basis.

At the Center of the World

Israel, too, is at the center of the world. Classic cartography may show Europe at the center because this is how the imperial and colonial map makers drew their maps and it is how we are socialized into understanding our mental images of the globe. But it is the miniscule piece of territory on the eastern seaboard of the Mediterranean that has attracted more world attention than almost any other place, large or small, for the past decades. Rightly or wrongly, it is the Jewish state that is perceived as contributing to global instability. How can the manipulation of oil resources, the growth in Islamic fundamentalism, and a host of other global issues and crises, be explained without some recourse to Israel, Israel, Israel? At the geographical meeting place of continents (Europe, Asia and Africa—no one has ever suggested that Israel be part of neighboring Africa although it has developed strong cultural, economic, and military links with the African continent) and of the three global monotheistic religions, the "Holy Land" is at the very center of world affairs.

I recall attending a conference some fifteen years ago devoted to the subject of small states and island states. After an ivory tower discussion of what exactly constitutes a small state (is it a small piece of territory, small population, few economic or natural resources?), we spent the lunch hour overlooking Valletta Harbor in Malta, discussing less conventional definitions. One idea was to define states based on the amount of news inches in the world media. Everyone around the lunch table agreed that based on such a definition, only one state in the world would qualify as a "mega-state": Israel.

Israelis are ambivalent about their state being the center of world attention. On the one hand, they would prefer that the world leave them alone, let them get on with their problems quietly and out of the eye of the global camera. Why, they ask, does attention always return to them while the other "insignificant" global problems such as Darfur, Tibet, Iraq, Bosnia, and Rwanda (to name but a few) disappear from the media headlines after a few days? Perhaps, they argue, it is because the world has an insatible appetite for the state of the Jews; dare they say for reasons of anti-Semitism? But take Israel out of the headlines for too long, have a conscious decision to ignore the problems of Israel/Palestine, and the Pro-Israel lobbies will be up in arms claiming that the world has lost all interest in little Israel, that it is not interested in the fate of the Jewish Homeland created out of the ashes of the Holocaust; in short, that the world is anti-Semitic and does not care what happens to Israel.

But not to worry, it will not happen. It is not surprising that the anti-Israel boycott proposal by British journalists (which was passed and then overtuned in 2007) recommended that journalists boycott goods produced in Israel, but did not (unlike the academics, the architects, the medical personnel, the actors, and a host of other professions who have recently become part of the boycott) suggest boycotting the coverage of news in Israel/Palestine. It would appear that Israel's location in the center of world attention is ensured for some time to come.

Inward or Outward Looking? The Clash of Identities

This essay cannot be concluded without mentioning one locational definition which, probably more than any other, is anti-global in its very essence. Exclusive, insular and predominantly Jewish in its interpretation, the ideology of the settler movement and Greater Israel perceives Israel in its raw and pristine form. A God-promised land (the "Promised Land," not the "Holy Land," the latter being a predominantly Christian concept), the borders are determined in the Bible and, in their widest form, run from the Euphrates and Tigris in the east, to the Nile in the south. It is a territory in which physical location determines ritual function, and in which Judea and Samaria take precedence over the West Bank. But even here, borders are flexible. For political reasons they are extended as far as possible, while for some ritualistics reasons (such as the observance of the Sabbatical laws in which the land must be allowed to lie fallow at great economic loss to the farmers) the borders are shrunk to their minimal extent. A functionalist approach makes life more flexible and easy to deal with, even for the most nationalistic groups, which are inwardlooking and rally against notions of globalization and external influences which, in their view, "dilute" the only true and pure cultural identities.

Contrast this neo-Zionist identity with that of post-Zionism. While the former focuses on the unique and the exclusive, the latter argues that Israel cannot continue to be defined as an exclusive nation-state in the era of "post-nationalism". Internal borders have to be broken down, two-state solutions to the conflict have to be abandones as behind their time, and all of this must be replaced by a single, secular, binational state between the Mediterranean Sea and the Jordan River in which all are equal. Specifically Jewish/Zionist symbols of statehood, such as the Hatikva anthem or the Magen David flag, have to be replaced by universal symbols. Only then will Israel (or whatever the state will be called) be part of the global family of political entities known (at least for the moment) as states.

It is fair to say that neither the neo-Zionist nor the post-Zionist identity carries a large support amongst Israeli (Jewish)citizens; nevertheless they indicate the wide gulf that exists between different population groups and the ways in which they view their state and its place in the political ordering of the world.

Concluding Comment

Perhaps the lesson of this essay is that Israel s geographical and geopolitical location is, at the end of the day, determined by functional concerns. These, in turn, are mediated by the unique nature of the state as constituting the Jewish Homeland in its ancient heartland. Those who seek global identities and locations see this as a way of strengthening Israel in the real world of contemporary globalization. Those who seek more exclusive identities equally see their exclusivity as a way of strengthening the collective identity through the preservation of internal homogeneity. But none of these identities are totally exclusive—they are complementary. An average Israeli (if there is such a creature) will adopt any combination of the identities discussed here. The collective identity of the state will be mediated through the complex relationship governing the ways in which these six locations—geographic and non-geographic—are expressed through the eyes and aspirations of their citizens. This is the dynamic complexity of Israel at sixty. It is a healthy dynamic, one which throws up, again and again, the self-questioning and the self-seeking. It is one that pits the uniqueness of the Jewish state under siege against its desire to be a leading player in global change and world development. And it is a dynamic that will continue to be played out long beyong its sixtieth anniversary as Israel hands over its leadership to a post-Holocaust, self-assured generation of young adults who see the world with very different eyes from their parents' and grandparents' generations.

David Newman is professor of political geography at Ben Gurion University in Israel. He is editor of the journal Geopolitics. He has written widely on topics relating to territory, borders, Israeli society, and the Arab-Israel conflict.

Source Citation

Newman, David. 2008. Where is Israel? Identities Beyond Geography. Tikkun 23(6): 24.