Malkai was too young to remember her journey to Israel, or the time she spent in a Sudanese refugee camp. Neither does she remember living her village, Wufargif, in the Welkait region, although she has since visited twice. She says it’s a beautiful place – “like paradise”.
But for her, Israel, not Ethiopia, is and always was her home. The Beta Israel – who some believe are descendants of the Tribe of Dan, and who are even mentioned in Marco Polo’s writings – historically felt a profound, spiritual yearning for Jerusalem, a desire to return home. “Every year, we would climb a high mountain in the village, 50 days after Yom Kippur, to pray to God, asking to return to Jerusalem,” she recalls.
Every year, we would climb a high mountain in the village, 50 days after Yom Kippur, to pray to God, asking to return to Jerusalem
From as early as the 15th Century, the Ethiopian Jews were known pejoratively as Falashas, meaning “strangers” (a moniker that was also used in Israel, but which has, thankfully, fallen out of favour). There were many periods of political oppression, particularly during the “Red Terror” regime of Mengistu Haile Mariam, which began in the mid-1970s, as well as immense pressure – both from missionaries and in the face of violent pogroms – to convert to Christianity. Some Jews, now known as the Falash Mura, did convert. Many still languish in Ethiopia, unable to emigrate, despite the efforts of the Israeli government.
Ethiopian Jews hold pictures of their relatives who are still in Ethiopia during a demonstration in front of the Israeli prime minister's office in Jerusalem, in November 2003AFP via Getty Images
“In our villages, we lived separately from the Christians and Muslims, preserving our traditions,” says Malkai. “Our communities were often located near rivers, crucial for the ritual cleansing required by Jewish law. Shabbat was the most important observance for us. But we were also different – we didn’t have other Jewish traditions, like Chanukah or written texts, like the Talmud.” This, she acknowledges, contributed to the scepticism some rabbinical authorities in Israel had toward the Beta Israel upon their arrival. ”They didn’t believe we were Jewish because of the differences in our practices.”
The struggle to be accepted wasn’t just about religious observance – it was also about race. “When we arrived, many people didn’t believe we were Jewish because we were black. It was a fight to be recognised as Jews, and it wasn’t easy,” Malkai says. She says she’s deeply committed to telling the stories of the activists who fought for Ethiopian Jews’ right to make aliyah, those who came over as tourists in the 1960s and 1970s and petitioned Israeli prime ministers and the Jewish community for recognition and support, long before the mass immigration in the 1980s. Her own father risked his own life by working with Mossad. ”We often hear about the airlifts, but we don’t hear about the activists who paved the way,” she states. “In my book, I wanted to ensure that their efforts are remembered too.”
Malkai studied law at Tel Aviv University and earned a master’s degree in public policy from Hebrew University. During her career, she has held various roles, from serving as a spokesperson for a government ministry to working as a journalist, including a stint as a news anchor at Channel 10 (now Channel 13). She now blogs for the newspaper Haaretz and lectures across Israel. The secret of her success? Education. Like Jewish parents all over the world, Malkai’s parents instilled in her the value of learning. “Education is the key to freedom,” she says. “If you educate yourself, you can achieve everything. It’s so important to teach young people that they hold the power to change their own destinies.
Newly arrived Jewish Ethiopian immigrants wave the Israeli flag as they walk on a red carpet upon landing in Israel from Ethiopia in December 3, 2020 in Tel Aviv, Israel. Several hundred members of the Falash Mura community of Ethiopian Jews arrived in Israel as part of ongoing relocation initiativeGetty Images
“For me, as a child, it was easier to integrate, but for my parents, it was incredibly challenging. They had to learn Hebrew quickly, and my mum worked in factories while raising us. It was tough – being an immigrant in a new country is not easy. My generation has had more opportunities.”
Roni Fantanesh as a child[Missing Credit]
There are now approximately 170,000 Ethiopian Jews in Israel. Much of Malkai’s book is taken up analysing their struggles with racism and discrimination – the fact they were housed in small towns without opportunities, the systemic biases in health, wealth and education; the lack of role models, and the police discrimination and brutality, which has particularly affected young black men – a global issue, of course.
But We are Black Jews is ultimately an optimistic book, with Malkai positive about her people’s future. “Despite their struggles and challenges, I believe every Ethiopian Jew would tell you the same thing: this is home. No matter what we faced, we would never want to go back to Ethiopia, not even for the simpler life we left behind. We are the lucky ones who made it. We’ve fulfilled a dream that our ancestors had for 2,000 years. But we have to keep working to ensure that our voices are heard.”
She cites many instances of progress, showing how Ethiopian Jews have risen through the ranks in the Israeli army, where 20 years ago, such representation was scarce. This is a result of continuous activism. As the CEO of a youth village charity, Malkai successfully campaigned to have the criminal records of Ethiopian youths (in those villages) expunged from their records, so that they were able to join the army.
She has faced prejudice herself, albeit it in subtle forms. “People have expressed their surprise at seeing an Ethiopian woman in a leadership position. I’ve even heard comments like, ‘She’s smart for an Ethiopian.’” Such patronising attitudes stem from the racist idea that Israel was the “great saviour” of a people who Ben-Gurion once referred to as “savages”.
Education is the key to freedom. If you educate yourself, you can achieve everything. It’s so important to teach young people that they hold the power to change their own destinies
Malkai says that her skin colour is her “X-factor”, a strength, not a weakness, and she prefers to focus on the people who have opened doors for her, the people who “put prejudice on the side and judge people by their talents”.
She acknowledges the complexities of maintaining cultural identity while integrating, the balancing act of bridging two cultures. “I have a very complicated identity as an Israeli, as a Jew, and as a black woman, and sometimes it feels like carrying a burden. But it is also amazing – there are so many good things in all these identities.” In the cover photo of her book – a portrait – she has decorated her dreadlocked hair with traditional Ethiopian earrings, given to her by her mother.
Food – such as Injera and Dabo, breads made from the “superfood” Teff – play an integral part in keeping a link to her roots. Her husband is not Ethiopian but enjoys cooking traditional Ethiopian dishes at home. “He agrees with me that it’s the best food in the world,” she says. They are teaching their seven-year-old daughter, Tamara, to be proud of her Ethiopian heritage.
While she wouldn’t describe herself as religious, she keeps Shabbat and kashrut, and makes the annual Sigd pilgrimage to Jerusalem with her community, taking part in a procession at Armon Hanatziv Promenade, where Ethiopian Jews, led by Kessim (spiritual leaders), gather to pray, read from the Torah and hear speeches emphasising the community’s connection to Israel.
She now plans to enter politics as a member of the Knesset for the Yesh Atid party, led by Yair Lapid, so she can continue to drive change from within the system. Unlike many Ethiopian Jews, who vote for right-wing parties – largely, she believes, because they still feel grateful to Menachem Begin who opened the gates of Israel to them – she is a centrist.
For her, there is strength in Israel’s diversity: “We need to address the social gaps in Israel, the disparities in welfare and education, and work together to make this country better for everyone. The horrific events of October 7 showed how, in times of crisis, Israelis can put aside our differences and come together. I want to create a better society for our kids, for my daughter to grow up in a better Israel, an Israel where we, Ethiopian Jews, are seen for our contributions, not just our struggles. We’re part of this country, and we want to make it better for everyone. We will keep building it together.”
‘We Are Black Jews: Ethiopian Jewry and the Journey to Equality in Israel’ (Gefen) is published on March 18
Roni Fantanesh Malkai[Missing Credit]