I went to Israel nervous. I returned with more questions than answers
Israel is not only the shiny startup nation it markets itself as abroad. Overlooking Tel Aviv skyline from Old Jaffa Vibrant street dining scene of
Israel is not only the shiny startup nation it markets itself as abroad. Overlooking Tel Aviv skyline from Old Jaffa Vibrant street dining scene of Tel Aviv Jaffa Dining along the Lake Tiberias overlooking Golan Heights The writer was in Israel at the invitation of Israel tourism ministry. The first meal we had was a shawarma, the first service staff we met were Arab Muslims, the first sound from a religious structure travelling through a busy square was the Muslim call to prayer. My Israel experience began in Jaffa, the old port city that is part of the Tel Aviv-Yafo municipality and home to a vibrant mix of Jewish and Muslim population. Walking through its flea market and dining areas on the first evening and meeting a diverse set of locals, I experienced that Israel is not a country of one kind of people.The common perception is that Jews who live in Israel came only from Germany or Poland, or only from European lineage. You meet Jews from Syria, Turkey, Morocco, Egypt, Ethiopia, Iraq, Iran, Russia and from all over South Asia and Latin America, and that too in big numbers. You'd rarely hear the word "melting pot" used for Israel, but once there, you experience how different nationalities, even if followers of one Jewish faith, have all brought their own food, music and local cultures with them.There are two broad groups here. Ashkenazi Jews came from Europe, and Sephardi and Mizrahi Jews came from the Middle East and North Africa, and each set brought their own food and culture.It is the Sephardic and Mizrahi Jews who've made the food and cultural scene of the country a spicy and lively affair. Together they make up roughly half the population, yet the world rarely hears about them.While you may have read or heard about the Jerusalem bagel, challah bread or babka, the most popular dishes in the country are sabich, an Iraqi sandwich, shakshuka, a Libyan and Tunisian egg preparation, bourekas, a flaky Ottoman pastry, and of course hummus and pita, shawarma, and desserts like knafeh, malabi and halva.Israel, it must be noted, is also not an exclusively Jewish country. According to various statistics, about 74 percent of people are Jewish, close to 20 percent are Muslim, and the rest are Christian, Druze and other faiths.
That means nearly a fourth of the country is not Jewish at all, and even among the big Jewish majority, not all are orthodox or practising Jews. Hebrew is the official language, while Arabic, English and Russian are recognised and widely spoken.Israel's food tells the story of this diversity better than anything else. My mornings usually began with hummus, olives, falafel and dates. Shawarma showed up for lunch almost every day, and locals will proudly tell you theirs is the best in the region. Abu Hassan is a landmark for hummus, while Abulafiya bakery has been around for over 100 years. As we spent an afternoon walking through the busy Levinsky market in Tel Aviv, tasting one stall after another, we sampled flavours from all over the world with a local spin, perfected over decades.The politics here, too, is more layered than what shows up on the news. Settler violence is real, and so are the harsh statements from some right wing ministers. But there is another Israel too. Tel Aviv has seen large protests against its own government for over a year now, many led by young Jewish activists against the handling of the hostage crisis, and demanding change. In response to an ultranationalist Flag March in Jerusalem, Jewish rights groups registered their presence too, forming a human chain to act as a buffer between the ultra-right marchers and Arab shopkeepers. The city of Tel Aviv has a big and visible gay community. Young Israelis, on the whole, are progressive and openly discuss political situations. You can hear, on TV or social media nowadays, politicians and officers, both retired and serving, including Gadi Eisenkot, the politician who's suddenly part of pub conversations, speak about wanting to protect the "soul of the country."While there are divergent views on various topics, one day stands apart from all this argument. October 7 is the one date that unites everyone in grief, whatever their politics. Everyone I met carried the same sadness when they spoke about it.Another group you'd have heard very little about is Israeli Arab Muslims. Citizens of Israel with full rights, they feel recent right wing rhetoric that uses "all Arabs" as a blanket term amounts to hate speech that could easily be avoided.