Mondoweiss
They made the real estate section bloom
Liz Rose on July 22, 2018
Luxury real estate, outside Tel Aviv, in The New York Times
It could seem too much of a coincidence, at first, even for the New York
Times, to feature a 4.8 million dollar home for sale outside Tel-Aviv in its
International Real Estate section on July 18, 2018, the same day the Israeli
Parliament passed a law declaring Israel the national home of the Jewish
people.
But when I read the headline, "Luxury on the Mediterranean Coast of
Tel-Aviv," of this week's featured home-perusing the real estate section at
breakfast for homes I could never afford is a weekly shameful indulgence of
mine-it seemed like an obvious opportunity for the New York Times to fuse
Israeli real estate with Jewish Zionist nationalism. Only the New York
Times could pull off this kind of seemingly apolitical-but highly
politically charged-sleight of hand, running these two articles on the same
day, in different sections, as if somehow the world of the Israeli
Parliament could be separated from the world in which Palestinian history is
erased in the name of real estate. These two streams seamlessly overlapping
each other ensures the perpetuation of Jewish Israeli exceptionalism, Jewish
claims to Palestinian land, and a total erasure of Palestinian history.
The five-bedroom, 7100 square foot villa highlighted in the New York Times
boasts a pool, pond, fire pit, gardens, an elevator, and is nestled on
nearly a half-acre in Herzliya Pituach, a wealthy neighborhood ten miles
north of downtown Tel-Aviv. While promoting the home's amenities, however,
the New York Times article also contributes to the Zionist mythology that
paints Israel a victim, and warns of anti-Semitism. The lower-level of the
house, for example, has a home-theatre and "a 'safe' room to be used in case
of an emergency like a missile or chemical weapons attack." Even if there's
something practical or even utilitarian about equipping a home for such
emergencies, the gesture feels politically manipulative.
Eran Alayof, the founder of Alayof Group Israel, a prominent Israeli
real-estate company, says the real-estate market is thriving in Israel due
to anti-Semitism:
The market is 'booming like crazy,' said Mr. Alayof, whose family real
estate brokerage works mostly with international buyers. 'With what is going
on in the world right now,' he said, and 'anti-Semitism in the European
countries, there are a lot of Jewish people who want to buy houses in
Israel.'
The article masterfully exceptionalizes and normalizes Israel at the same
time. Because of the threat of war, for example, builders in Tel-Aviv are
currently installing "safe houses" in existing buildings. But according to
Inna Fleshler, Israel Sotheby's International Realty marketing
communications manager, Tel-Aviv is, at the same time, just another
cosmopolitan, urban, metropolis no different from a big city in the U.S.
Tel Aviv "is always in a high demand, like Manhattan," Fleshler says.
Exceptionalizing Tel-Aviv as a place to flee anti-Semitism, a city that
needs "safe houses," while at the same time normalizing and advertising it
as just another urban chic big city, commodifies the occupation and
colonization of Palestinian land. Ultimately, it becomes one more marketing
opportunity for Israeli real-estate to cover up Palestinian history.
Of course, The New York Times isn't the only venue for advertising real
estate in Israel in seemingly apolitical ways. A quick search for HGTV's
popular show, House Hunters International-another embarrassing indulgence of
mine-reveals that several episodes from the last few years that have taken
place in Tel-Aviv. Titillating titles whet the appetite for buying property
in the Israeli city on the Mediterranean such as, Big City, Big Beaches in
Tel Aviv, Israel, Dream Apartments in Tel Aviv, Israel, First Home in Tel
Aviv, and my favorite, Test of Love in Tel Aviv, Israel, from season 49:
Tom and Sarah met on a Jewish dating site and after two years together in
San Francisco have decided to move to Tel Aviv where Tom will join his
family's business. While Tom will be right back at home, Sarah will be
thousands of miles from her family, friends, and native language. They're
looking to rent a two bedroom apartment by the sea while they decide if this
move is right for them, but in a city with a high demand for flats, their
low budget may be a problem. House Hunters International puts love to the
test in Tel Aviv, Israel.
Living in Tel-Aviv is at once exceptionalized ("met on a Jewish dating
site," "Tel-Aviv where Tom will join his family's business") and normalized
("a two bedroom apartment by the sea," "a city with a high demand for
flats"). That these episodes take place on land stolen from Palestinians
simply does not come up, and popular venues for real-estate like HGTV and
the New York Times International Real Estate section can claim to be
apolitical when displaying properties in cities like Tel-Aviv and Herzliya.
Real estate in Israel remains a universal test of love but never a test of
politics.
It doesn't take much effort to find the Palestinian history that lives
underneath and around the villa in Herzliya Pituach for sale for 17.5
million New Israeli Shekels (NIS). According to Zochrot, an organization
that researches and documents Palestinian life before 1948, Herzliya (named
for Theodore Herzl), was founded in 1924 as a pioneer settlement:
These pioneers settled in an area populated by Arabs in all directions.The
village Ijlil with its two parts-Qabliya and Shamaliya-was situated to the
southwest of Herzliya; Alharam was situated to the northwest, with Arab
al-Akabshe Bedouin to the north, Shitake and Arab al-Asuat to the east, and
the village of Abu Kishek to the southeast.
The 2007 Zochrot article, written by Eitan Bronstein and Norma Musih,
focuses on photographs in "Beit Rishonim" (Founders' House), a museum that
displays the history of Herzliya. One photograph shows Herzliya as valuable
property before it was even founded-an act of fortuitous real estate
appropriation in itself. The city is empty, despite overwhelming evidence
of Palestinian life:
The narrative of 'making the desert bloom' appears in this museum
undisturbed side-by-side with the narrative of 'settling in the heart of the
Arab population.' The wasteland photo is somewhat blurry but does show some
wild weeds growing. The composition chosen for this photo shows the virgin
land waiting for Herzliya pioneers to come along and make it bloom. This
'wasteland' is named 'Herzliya' even before the town is founded. In other
words, the land, nature itself, is named after the Hebrew town even before
this name took real form. According to this narrative, the land waited for
its Zionist settlers to build upon it and name it after the European man
(Herzl) who dreamt it but never lived here.
Another photo in the museum shows goats roaming without a shepherd, further
evidence of Palestinian indigenous life existing only as natural background:
The goats, we know, are owned by neighboring Arabs, but they are absent from
the caption. The goats roaming without a shepherd enhance the desolate
feeling of the image.The Arab surroundings in which Herzliya was settled is
presented in the narrative of the Herzliya museum as a faded background,
part of the wild landscape that awaited its European settlers, and not as a
viable culture somehow rooted in the land. The Arabs are regarded as part of
the natural landscape. They roam about like a herd of goats with no
shepherd, or perhaps their goats roam about without a human hand to guide
them.
Palestinian history in this museum in Herzliya is represented as it lives in
Zionist history-background scenery that exists to make the Zionist pioneers
look good. If the Arabs appear in any photos, they serve no purpose other
than to be "civilized" by the white Europeans.
Though information about Palestine is easily accessible, the Israeli
realtors are busy selling expensive villas available only to wealthy Jews.
But if you choose to read about it, you'd find that Al-Haram, for example,
the Palestinian village northwest of Herzliya, has a rich Palestinian
history, and met an unjust end, like all the other Palestinian villages.
According to Palestine Remembered, Al-Haram was ethnically cleansed by the
Haganah, the Jewish paramilitary organization, on February 3, 1948. One
hundred fifty homes were destroyed. You can still see the Sidna Ali Mosque
near the Mediterranean Sea today. To those who don't know the history, it
might look like another "ancient ruin," rustic background to the newer
modern sleek buildings. Al-Haram had a shrine for al-Hasan ibn 'Ali (who
died in 1081 A.D.), a descendant of the second Muslim Caliph 'Umar ibn
al-Khattab. The village had an elementary school for boys that was founded
in 1921. In 1945, 68 students were enrolled. Al-Haram had a population of
880, and 360 were Jewish. The village thrived. Palestinian life existed.
I read that citrus and olive trees dotted the landscape. A spring existed
to the north. Palestinian residents of Al-Haram have said that before 1948,
they were told by representatives of Jewish towns that they would be safe.
But Palestinians weren't safe. Their land was taken, their history
destroyed, replaced with a four-car garage and glass railings and fancy
security systems.
For over a century, the Jewish National Fund has been planting trees in
Israel to cover up remains of these villages-except, perhaps, a few remnants
like a cistern here or a terrace there-or like the the Sidna Ali Mosque, for
example, so that visitors to the area can marvel at the "ancient ruins."
When I was a girl, I saved my allowance money to plant a tree in Israel. It
was a selfless act, I was taught. Rather than buy material things like
Muppets, I was investing in a future. I was proud to have planted a tree
with money I earned from doing chores; I still have the certificate that was
sent to me. Small children stand around the tree, some with brown
pigtails-as I wore my hair, too!-and dig into the earth with shovels wearing
blue overalls, the tree full and plush, a primary green, bright, like green
M&Ms. Decades later-once I knew that the Zionism with which I was raised
was a mythology-I drove through the forests between Jerusalem and Tel-Aviv,
witnessing Israel's efforts to cover up the destruction of Palestinian life
and culture and history. The success of the forest depended, in part, on
young Zionists like me to pay for it.
The New York Times isn't asking its readers to help the forest grow, but it
might as well be, for the forests and the expensive Jewish villas serve the
same purpose: to cover up any hint that Palestinian life existed. But the
history of Al-Haram and all the other Palestinian villages ethnically
cleansed is out there, available to those who choose to see below the
surface of a new home's radiant heated floors.
