A Drive to Israel, Part II

I finished Ali Salem’s A Drive to Israel a little over a week ago. Once I picked it up I couldn’t put it down, so I ended up reading it and Christopher Moore’s Fluke at the same time, alternating between the two.

Salem is an amazing human being. I loved every word of this book, every page. My only regret was that the book wasn’t longer!

I will quote selected parts:

Authorities on both sides of the borders never made an issue of Salem’s Egyptian license plates, nor did the significance of driving around Israel with Egyptian plates occur to Salem, who wrote:

I set out on the road to Tel Aviv, in my car with its Cairo license plates bearing white Egyptian numerals on a black background.

Later Victor Nachmias, a Jew of Egyptian origin, told me: “Look, you neglected to mention you're wandering around here in a car with Egyptian plates. I don’t know whether you are aware of it or if it’s residing in your subconscious. You are roaming the streets of Israel raising the Egyptian flag.”

I wasn’t thinking of this, but I admit it: when they left me the Egyptian plates, I felt happy. And I began to exploit the opportunities to announce my nationality, particularly in Israeli Arab villages … With Egyptian plates and a high-pitched jeep engine I was shouting, without opening my mouth: Hey, folks! … Egypt is your neighbor … I am an Egyptian coming forth from Egypt.

Another part of the book highlights an argument I’ve tried to make—in vain—to Arab or Muslim interlocutors time and again: not all Israelis are diehard Zionists. Now, I think Zionism is a great ideology, overall. A Zionist is one who supports the existence of a homeland for the Jewish people. There are many different types and flavors of Zionism, but the overall ideology is hardly the twisted, evil Jewish-conspiracy-to-rule-the-world plot that so much of the Arab press makes it out to be. That being the unfortunate case, that Zionism gets such a bad rap, it is understandable why so many Arabs and Muslims view Zionism as being the worst sort of evil on the planet; they are brainwashed to believe it.

So, when debating with Arabs/Muslims, I try to appeal to their humanity and sense of fairness. “Let’s assume your idea of Zionism is correct,” I say. “There are still hundreds of thousands of Israelis who live in Israel not because of Zionist ideology, but because of historic circumstance for which they had no control. How can you ‘push into the sea’ the old Holocaust survivor (and his progeny) who had no where else in the world to go, who came to Israel not out of conviction, but because he needed a refuge? Such people are ‘evil Zionists' that deserve to get blown up?

Here, Salem meets with an Israeli Jew of Iraqi origin—Abdallah—a life-long strike organizer. The encounter illustrates my point:

Prior to military rule in Iraq, the stupid despotic governments there allowed people not only to strike and demonstrate, but also to shout opposition slogans. Abdallah didn’t mention the name of the political faction to which he had belonged, it wasn’t important and I didn’t ask him. What was important was that it allowed him to pursue his art as a strike leader.

“A leader of the cell in the party in Iraq summoned me and said, ‘Abdallah, you are responsible for the wounded and injured in tomorrow’s demonstration. We will clash with the police and provoke them to hurt us. Some will be injured of course. Prepare the necessary provisions.’”

I wonder what were the chants that Abdallah was leading? What were the slogans that he stayed up all night writing on cloth banners? “Palestine is Arab … Down with Zionism?”

On that day, or to be more precise, during that demonstration, he cleared his throat in preparation for the famous chant, “Down with Zionism,” when he was stunned by another chant, which started behind him, as if it were the shout of fate: “Death to the Jews.”

That cry in Baghdad was not in jest, it was meant literally.

At that moment of gestalt, Abdallah discovered that Abdallah Rabi’a the Iraqi Arab from Baghdad and Abdallah Rabi’a the Jew were one and the same. Whereas death was not demanded for Abdallah the Arab it was demanded for Abdallah the Jew. So he moved to Israel.

“It is known that you are against Zionism.”
“I was against it … Now I am here.”
“Why?”
“I came fearing for my life.”
“Your name is Abdallah … Isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Okay … Now your name is Ovadiah.”
“Why? My name is Abdallah.”
“Abdallah is the same as Ovadiah … and Rabi’a is Rabi … Your name now is Ovadiah Rabi.”

Today he is Ovadiah Rabi, though he was able to keep his old first name, at least among his friends, and became known as Abdallah Ovadiah. He had been one servant of God but became two in two different languages [Abdallah/Ovadiah means slave/servant of God –semite1973]. They deprived him of the name he was raised on but, praise God, they permitted him to pursue his fine art, strikes and demonstrations. Who would permit him this anywhere else in the Middle East?

It was apparent that Salem was deeply affected by his encounters with Sephardim.

Religion is a basic element of identity but not one’s entire identity. We all belong to this place, and we keep deep inside us the voices of this part of the earth. As for me, I don’t need to search in the dictionary for the meaning of the word ‘Sephardim’ to know that it includes Jewish Arabs, as well as Jewish Iranians and Bukharans. My references stand before me, vibrant with life. My references are people as I see them.

I began to notice this from the moment in the cafeteria when the Iraqi woman greeted me with such joy, then the Moroccan Jewish youth in the hotel restaurant who treated me in that affectionate way, then all the Jewish Arabs whom I met. Do you remember the story of the story of the old-fashioned Upper Egyptian who was ready to lay down his life for a person connected to his home town? I am their home town.

I remembered back to my semester-long stay in Israel during my senior year in high school. Part of the program included home-stays with Israeli families. I intentionally requested to live with a Sephardic family; being Ashkenazi I’m quite familiar with ‘us,’ thank you (and Ashkenazi food sucks). My host family, the Nissims, were of Iraqi origin. With the exception of the oldest son, Eli, the entire family told me they voted for various right-wing parties. The parents—both born in Iraq and fluent in Arabic—were the most right-wing. Indeed, historically the backbone of the Likud Party in Israel are the Sephardim.

Salem had an interesting take on this phenomenon:

“But the Oriental Jews whom you call Arabs, they treated our POW’s the most cruelly at the front. And they usually vote for religious extremists parties, despite the fact that they are ‘Arabs’ as you call them.”

Yes, but you are making a simple mistake. Don’t say “in spite of the fact they are Arabs” but rather “because they are Arabs.” Indeed the best evidence that they are Arabs in their bones is exactly what you mentioned. Is there anyone more cruel to an Arab than another Arab? There is no need to be ashamed of this fact. What do you think of the way the Iraqi Arabs treated the Kuwaiti Arabs?

“War is war, war turns people into monsters.”

I might agree with you, but what do you think of the way the other Arabs treat Egyptian workers in the Gulf, while as you know we are at peace with everyone?

“If the Oriental Jews are Arabs as you claim, then why do they vote for religious parties that are hostile to Arabs?”

For a simple, clear reason: they want to cause trouble for and fight against the Arab governments, which they hate just as we Arabs living in the Arab region do. In this matter they don’t differ from you or me. Answer me honesty, assume an opportunity presented itself to cause trouble for the Arab governments publicly, wouldn’t you take advantage of it?

I think it would make an interesting sociological study to examine the ethnic identities of Sephardic Jews in Israel, especially among those born in Israel.