I was born to an Israeli mother and a North American father. My mother’s mother was born in Iraq, and her father in Bulgaria. My father’s parents hail from Pennsylvania, and his grandparents from Latvia, Lithuania, or Belarus. Their geographic point of origin has become hazy over time and with border shifting. So hazy, in fact, that we have taken to branding them with the terribly ambiguous title, “Eastern-European.” My parentage though, is lucid and accessible. While Pennsylvania is rich with history in its own right, the potency of the seemingly unsolvable riddle in Israel/Palestine, has continually called out to me.
As an avid follower of the machinations of my gut, I have come to know its personality well. I am quite easily seduced by different fields of study, and am quick to decide to explore new terrain. Once I’ve arrived, I have a difficult time settling and immersing myself in a field before something else catches my eye. I’ve dabbled in everything from theater, to South Asian studies, to environmental studies, to international relations, to art history. Yet, throughout my topical meandering, my gut will wrench without fail when I hear the words “Israel” or “Palestine.” After three years of pursuing an ever-evolving major, I am anxiously relieved to commit to a topic.
Maybe I have been lured by the authenticity of descent. Knowing that though my gut may lead me down divergent roads, my roots will ground me. Maybe I am too wary of pursuing a right or wrong career track, and in my cautious bandying about have landed on the one field I know to be ceaselessly relevant to my person. Or maybe this conflict really is as enthralling as I perceive it to be. I’m currently honing in on how I feel I can best contribute to its resolution.
Universal military conscriptiton was instituted in the state of Israel along with its birth in 1948. For over 60 years it has been mandatory for every 18 year old Israeli citizen to serve in the army for 2-3 years depending on gender and religion. Muslim Arabs, Orthodox Jews, and physically/mentally ill youth can be exempt. Once released from the army, most citizens are obligated to remain in the reserves for 30-40 years.
Throughout a semester studying in Tel Aviv, I met a fascinating group of young people. Youth who had found an avenue out of serving in the military. Not a subculture per se, not even a movement, really. Rather, a group of adolescents (18-24) who frequented the same cafes, bars, and cultural venues, and who all happened to have weaseled their way out of military service. Some feigned mental illness, others spent a short period in jail. I had easily dodged the draft years earlier, as I was not a resident of the country. Their stories are much more complex than mine, often involving a series of interviews, hiring psychologists to prescribe fake diagnoses, and a good deal of acting. Some choose not to serve on an ideological basis, others because they wanted to play music in New York, or study art in Paris.
Regardless of personal justification, statistics affirm that there is undoubtedly a mounting resistance to serve. Approximately 50% of the population did not enlist in 2008. This is an incredibly taboo choice, and the country ostracizes the “shirkers”, prohibiting them from partaking in national events or applying for certain jobs. Beyond this particular group, there also exists a population of Israelis who consented to serve, but in retrospect wish they had had an alternative option. There has been an increase in soldiers leaving the army prematurely, and soldiers lashing out against the institution retrospectively. This trend has even entered popular culture, made most popular by Ari Folman’s animated documentary Waltz with Bashir. Furthermore, the large Muslim Arab population in Israel is unable to attain certain benefits as they are not required (arguably, not allowed) to serve, and this only serves to nurture disunity between Jews and Arabs. This societal division is hugely unjust, and warrants an entire thesis project in and of itself.
I don’t feel it is my place to make judgments about the necessity of military force. I do not live in Israel, and I cannot attest to feelings of increased security and national solidarity. I do feel comfortable asserting that not everyone who lives in the country believes in the institution, therefore not everyone should be compelled to support it. Many proponents of military service argue that there is a role for everyone in the army, in that one can choose to play in the military band, write for the newspaper, work for the radio station, fly planes, etc. Even with a plethora of roles to play in the army itself, there is no place for someone who simply doesn’t want to enter into that world. It is my intention to try and locate how this military world came to dominate the state of Israel, and how the state can evolve into a more peaceable place.
I plan to approach this topic by researching the establishment of the military in the state of Israel. I would like to use that period as a point of departure, as I cannot begin to make suggestions for institutional military reform, before I have a grasp on the origin of the institution itself. This foundation will inform any future research in the field as I explore universal civil service paradigms. I hope that readers of all stripes will relate to this topic in identifying with the humanistic principles of the rights to individual agency and ethical resistance.