To mark Israel at 70, Miri Regev’s Culture Ministry launched a celebratory campaign. In the promotional video, religious and secular Israelis wax lyrical about the Jewish state’s achievements. The finale is a man exclaiming “Yesh!” or “Yay!” just because he is happy. The official message is that, after 70 years, “Yes, there is something to be proud of.”
As nationalist pride-inducing slogans go, it leaves much to be desired. First of all, it sounds more like an exercise in defensiveness than a festive refrain. The lady, in this case Regev, doth protest too much. And it leaves one wondering: If you really are so proud, who are you working so hard to convince?
Is it Israelis worrying what the next 70 years might hold? Is it diaspora Jews unsure whether to support Israeli policy when they see violence against Palestinians and prejudice against African asylum seekers? Maybe it is anyone who might – shock, horror – criticise the country.
I was born in Israel, but moved to London as a child. Growing up, Israel did not seem like some long-realised political dream. It was where my grandmother lived, where I played with my cousins on holiday. I never exactly thought of myself as a Zionist, either. It might sound hopelessly naïve and smack of privileged ignorance, but I didn’t really grasp the reality of the ongoing conflict until the Second Intifada. Israel was just another fact of life, not a matter for debate.
