Caliber 3's instructors teach tourists how to shoot guns. Credit: Caliber 3 website
Gone are the days, it seems, when the slogan was, “Visiting Israel? Come see the holy sites!” On Arutz 7, a right-wing news outlet that takes a pro-settler editorial stance, one of the banner ads that appears most frequently bears the slogan “Visiting Israel? Learn to shoot!” The click-through ads lead to the website of a private security company called Caliber 3, which boasts of working “…in close cooperation with the Israel Defence Forces (IDF) in the field of Counter Terrorism.”
The ‘learn to shoot’ slogan appears under a video interview with two American-born residents of Shilo, a Jewish settlement in the northern West Bank; the video is embedded in an article titled, “Human face of demonized ‘settlers’.” In the video, the two speak of their love for Shilo, their biblical connection to the place and the affection they feel for their neighbours – although they do not specify whether they are speaking of their Jewish neighbours within the settlement, or their Palestinian neighbours. The interview was filmed by a visiting American couple who told Arutz 7 that they sought “…to make the Jews who live in Judea and Samaria look human….because they are usually so demonized by the media.”
Caliber 3 offers a wide range of services, from an 8-week course in “establishing government combat units” (€12,000) to a 1-week course called “Suicide bombers – knowing the enemy: detection, prevention & neutralization” (€2,000). There is also an “exciting new program for tourists” - a 2-hour course that includes a 7-minute lecture in anti-terrorism tactics, an “impressive” 15-minute show of fighting and shooting skills and – based on the photos – an opportunity to shoot some guns.
Based on the photos that appear on Caliber 3′s website, the courses appear to be popular amongst religious Jews who are visiting from the United States. There is some cognitive dissonance in seeing paunchy middle-aged men wearing dress shirts and yarmulkes aiming an automatic weapon, or a girl dressed in typical modern Orthodox female style – a jean skirt and long-sleeved casual shirt – assuming a combat stance while holding a weapon that appears far too large for her. The instructors, meanwhile, look very ‘army,’ but they wear civilian shoes and khaki uniforms without rank or insignia.
Somehow, a certain brand of Judaism and militarism have become part of the settler movement’s ideological identity. For many religious settlers, the army is an extension of their identity in the sense of serving the state that controls the land mentioned in the bible, that was given by God. For American Jews who support the settler movement’s ideology, and share their conviction that they are surrounded by enemies that present an existential threat, a course in the use of firearms might feel as important as a visit to the Western Wall or the Tomb of the Patriarchs in terms of identity tourism – not to mention power. For Caliber 3′s bareheaded instructors, the settlers’ ideology is certainly a lucrative source of income.
Sarit Hadad in concert. Credit: Nurit Manor/Flickr*
Sarit Hadad, an Israeli pop singer of Mizrachi extraction, just released a new single. The song, actually a cover of a Lebanse pop hit of the 1970s, is called “Do You Love Me” and it seems that the answer is, “Some of us do, but a lot of us really, really don’t.” For every fan who praises the song, there is someone who says it’s awful for one or all of the following reasons: it sounds Arab; it sounds Mizrachi; it’s a pathetic rip-off of an old Lebanese pop song and what’s wrong with Hebrew music, anyhow; and, Sarit Hadad is a frecha** who couldn’t sing her way out of a box.
Here she is, performing the song on A Star is Born, the Israeli version of American Idol.
Avi Shoshan, Mizrachi music critic for Ynet, loves the song. He calls it Hadad’s come-back hit.
“It’s a huge hit, and one thing is for sure: it won’t be possible to avoid ‘Do You Love Me.’ There’s a reason it was released at the height of the wedding season: if there’s one thing you can count on, it’s that the number of times this song is played at private parties over the summer will lock Hadad in as one of the highest-earning singers in this country. “
This is what some of the naysayers have to say in the talkbacks:
#54. Israel has become an Arab state
All that’s left is for Ahmed Tibi to become prime minister and Sheikh Raed Salah to be the Chief of Staff. At the parade to celebrate the revolution, Sarit Hadad will sing her Arab song to them.
#51. Now the Mizrachi population will sing this song and think it knows English.
And then there’s this one, which is interesting for what it doesn’t say about how Arabs are regarded in Israel:
#53. Let’s be honest
It’s time to come out and say it: Israeli Mizrachi music is really Arab music. And “Arab” is not an insult, heaven forbid! It’s just a nationality that is characterized by a language, a culture and an easily identifiable taste in music. Therefore, Sarit Hadad is an Arab singer who sings in Hebrew. Sababa.
These days, Mizrachi music is often called ‘Mediterranean’ (In Hebrew, Yam Tichonit). It’s mostly ripped off from old Greek songs, with the lyrics translated into Hebrew and sung in a Mizrachi accent (with a glottal ‘ayin’ and an aspirated ‘het’). Quite a few Mizrachi singers, like Eyal Golan, have had crossover pop hits in the Mediterranean style, but they really don’t sound at all like the pop music you hear on the radio in Lebanon, Syria or Jordan.
Back in the 1980s, when I moved to Israel for the first time, Mizrachi music was very Arab. For years the Israel Broadcast Authority refused to play Mizrachi pop on the radio; instead, fans bought low-quality cassette recordings that were sold cheaply at makeshift stands around the central bus station. This started to change in the 1980s, when the IBA introduced Mizrachi music programs to the radio (and sometimes to television), thus bringing singers like Haim Moshe and Zohar Argov to a wider audience. Ami Kaufman wrote a post about his memory of belting out Haim Moshe’s 1983 hit song, the Arabic-language hit ‘Linda, Linda,’ while hanging out with friends in the Carmel Forest. Reading that post reminded me vividly of the first time I sang that song aloud.
‘Twas the summer of ’84. I was studying Hebrew at the university during the day; by night I waited tables with supreme ineptitude at a restaurant that was owned by a couple of newly immigrated American Jews who lived in a West Bank settlement. They were bearded, covered their heads with enormous crocheted skullcaps and had pistols stuck in their belts at all times. The Palestinian guys who worked in the kitchen often corrected their Hebrew.
At night, after we’d cleaned up and closed the place, the owners would drive us all home in their van. First they’d drop off the Palestinians in various East Jerusalem neighbourhoods, and then they’d take the student workers (like me) back to our dormitories on Mt. Scopus. As we sat squashed shoulder-to-shoulder in the back seat of the van, the Palestinian workers called out to their employer, “Yaakov, put on some Haim Moshe!” Surprisingly eager to oblige, Yaakov would shove a grubby cassette into the player and turn up the volume. Thus we drove through the badly-lit streets of East Jerusalem, bumping over the potholes and swerving to avoid stray cats as we belted out the Arabic lyrics to the Israeli smash-hit single, “Linda, Linda.” According to Haim Moshe’s Wikipedia entry, there were rumours of Linda, Linda being a hit in Syria that same summer.
The original version of “Do You Love Me” was composed and performed in 1978 by the Bendaly Family, who seem to be a Lebanese version of the Partridge Family. Whereas Hadad sings her cover in Hebrew and English, the Bendalys sing theirs in Arabic and English.
I discovered the whole controversy over Hadad’s cover of “Do You Love Me” via this essay on HaOkets (The Sting), an Israeli group blog. The author of the piece, Maya Wallenstein, summarizes the controversy and puts it into the context of an Israeli society that is still dominated by Ashkenazi culture and characterized by dislike, suspicion and ignorance of both Mizrachi and Arab culture.
Here’s a translation of the last two paragraphs of Wallenstein’s piece:
Around the same time that Hadad’s single was released, a charming clip for a song by a Lebanese group called Mashrou’ Leila was circulating around the social media world of the Israeli left. The popularization of the clip amongst Israeli leftists was of course an act of opposition to Israel’s aggressive attitude toward its northern neighbour, and a subversive message of support for peace and reconciliation between the two states. The song is pleasant listening; perhaps too pleasant in this context. The melody is completely western, the substance is western (young people, disappointment in love, highways) and lighthearted. It’s “Mizrachi-ness” is expressed only in the octave-scaling violins.
There is something very easy to digest about this Lebanese song, which is actually very “Paris.” In that sense Hadad’s song is more subversive, because playing it makes people a bit uncomfortable; it is irritating to the ear, it causes a headache – all the things that Sabras (native-born Israelis) feel when they hear the sound of music that is “too Arab” on their radio.
I’m a bit puzzled by the use of ‘sabra’ and ‘Ashkenazi’ as interchangeable terms, given that the bulk of Mizrachim immigrated to Israel in the 1950s and now have native-born grandchildren. And I’m a bit surprised at Ms. Wallenstein’s surprise at discovering that Lebanese pop music is influenced by Europe in our globalized world. And, actually, the first person in Israel to post the Mashrou’ Leila clip on Facebook was a foreign correspondent based in Jerusalem who has family connections in the Middle East and friends in Beirut. She has a lot of Israeli Facebook friends – mostly journalists – and they (we) liked the clip and shared it simply because it’s good music and the clip is quirky and hip. It seems kind of sad that sharing a song about love is described as a subversive act – even if subversive is meant in a positive sense. But then again, this is a region where states nearly go to war over the pruning of a tree.
The man in the choke-hold is Chaim Levinson, Haaretz’s correspondent for issues related to West Bank Jewish settlements. Soldiers assaulted him and confiscated his mobile phone on August 10, while he was covering a march of right-wing activists on their way to establish another illegal outpost at the site of an ancient synagogue near Jericho. According to photographer Emil Salman, the soldiers assaulted Levinson because he was
…grabbing his own phone from the hands of an officer who took it in order to delete photos of himself. Needless to say, he had no right to take the phone, or delete the photos, even if he didn’t like it so much.
And Chaim only took his photo after he wouldn’t identify himself properly.
Salman adds:
the armed forces’ (including all security personnel, police, mall guards) attitude towards the press is steadily detiriorating and is surely following the footsteps of darker, less “Western” regimes.
We are targeted on a daily basis, our press card is a scarlet letter that I personally try to hide, our cameras are police evidence, our profession a source of scorn and ridicule, and in many ways we are less privileged than an ordinary citizen. At any point of friction between civilians and security, the press are targeted first, denied access, pushed to the ground, constantly threatened and abused verbally.
Salman’s photo illustrates a little-reported, but widespread phenomenon of media censorship in the Wild West Bank, where democratic laws and values are rarely applied and the IDF makes up policy as it goes along. The army ignores not only Israeli Supreme Court rulings, but even its own policy regarding the use of live ammunition and tear gas canisters for crowd control. Reporters Without Borders regularly publishes press releases deploring the IDF’s treatment of Palestinian journalists, who seem to have no rights at all: they are beaten, shot at and arrested while doing their jobs; and their cameras are often damaged or confiscated.
Chaim Levinson’s case made Ynet, Israel’s most widely-read news-source, in both Hebrew and English. It doesn’t get any more mainstream than Ynet – and there’s even a video clip showing Levinson being assaulted. But if reporters get beaten up by soldiers all the time in the West Bank, how come this story made the news in Israel?
You probably know where I’m going with this one:
1) The demonstrators were right-wing – settlers, to be precise – and for a change they were actually arrested for breaking the law. This is a rare occurrence.
2) The reporter is a Jewish Israeli. Ashkenazi, even! True, he works for a left-wing newspaper, but he is not a settler basher. Some say he is a bit too sympathetic to the settlers, and that he uses adjectives which betray a bias against human rights NGOs that work on behalf of Palestinians.
These days, it is very difficult to sell a story about IDF lawlessness in the West Bank. In the West, attention has turned to Afghanistan, Pakistan and Iraq. You can see this in the fact that so many former Jerusalem bureau chiefs were transferred to Kabul and Islamabad, from whence they cover the entire Middle East (budget cuts). The story of Israel-Palestine is stuck on a loop, and editors are bored with oppressed Palestinians, undisciplined IDF soldiers and violent, lawless settlers. For most Israelis, the occupation is just ‘background noise,’ as one friend described it.
Perhaps that is why no-one notices that press freedom is being steadily eroded in Israel – because the story is not being covered by the western media, or even by the mainstream Israeli media. Few people seem to care about the issue.
The next time you see a soldier or border police officer in the West Bank whose name is not displayed clearly on his uniform, try asking him why he’s violating regulations by hiding his identity. If you ask nicely, he’ll probably ignore you. But if, like Chaim Levinson, you photograph him and threaten to report him for violating regulations, you might be assaulted, have your phone confiscated and even be arrested.
I am a freelance journalist and blogger, currently based in Jaffa. I write mostly about Israel-Palestine (IsPal). Since co-founding +972 Magazine, I post all my articles in both blogs.
