From legalism to symbolism: Anti-mobility and national identity in Israel, 1948-1958

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Authors requiring further information regarding Elsevier’s archiving and manuscript policies are encouraged to visit: http://www.elsevier.com/copyright Author's personal copy Journal of Historical Geography 36 (2010) 19–28 Contents lists available at ScienceDirect Journal of Historical Geography journal homepage: www.elsevier.com/locate/jhg From legalism to symbolism: anti-mobility and national identity in Israel, 1948–1958 Nir Cohen Department of Geography and Environmental Development, Ben Gurion University of the Negev, Beer Sheva 84105, Israel Abstract The paper traces the historical roots of anti-mobility discourse in Israel and examines the changing policies and practices geared towards the prevention of mass Jewish departure during its first decade of statehood. It identifies two distinct phases in the battle waged against international mobility, under the headings of ‘Legalism’ (1948–1953) and ‘Symbolism’ (1954–1958). While the former was led by official agencies of the young state and required the passing of laws and other administrative decrees, the latter was mainly a society-led campaign of ad-hoc symbolic practices by groups seeking to de-legitimize international mobility and emigration in particular. Despite their qualitative differences, both were instrumental to the national identity formation project in postindependence Israel, assisting in the construction and maintenance of (physical and cultural) boundaries between Jews in Israel and others – both Diaspora Jews and non-Jews. Ó 2009 Elsevier Ltd. All rights reserved. Keywords: Mobility; National identity; Israel; Emigration The establishment of the State of Israel in May 1948 and the ensuing regional hostilities triggered two large scale, yet oppositional, flows of Jewish migration.1 The first was a massive inmigration2 of Diaspora Jews from around the globe into the newly independent state. It is estimated that during Israel’s first decade of independence (1948–1958), an excess of one million Jews – mostly Eastern European, Middle Eastern, and North African – in-migrated to and settled in Israel. During the same period, over 100,000 Jews left the country, some returning to their countries of origin while others ventured to traditional migration-attracting countries, notably Canada and the United States.3 While the former wave has been documented extensively in the literature, the latter has gone virtually unstudied and remains poorly understood.4 More importantly, while Jewish in-migration was traditionally heralded by Israeli decision makers as the epitome of the Zionist project and is still considered a key objective of Israeli governments,5 emigration was constructed as a problem with which the state must cope. To combat this undesired form of Jewish mobility, an unfortunate relic of two Diasporic millenniums, concrete measures had to be taken. Examining these measures is the main objective of the paper, which traces the historical roots of Israel’s (anti)-mobility strategy and analyzes its key attributes during the state’s formative years. Using newspaper articles and other secondary materials,6 it argues E-mail address: nircohen@bgu.ac.il A third, non-Jewish flow was that of over 700,000 Palestinian Arabs who either fled or were driven out by the Israeli military in the course of the 1948 War. On their plight see B. Morris, The Birth of the Palestinian Refugee Problem, 1947–1949, Cambridge, 1987. 2 Known in Hebrew as Aliya, literally ascendance. 3 I chose this time period for three main reasons: first, the symbolism in ten years of independence; second, a governmental report published in 1958 revealed that 100,000 Jews had emigrated since independence; third, the late 1950s had seen a slight change in state discourse towards emigration and many of the restrictive measures had been lifted in order to create a smoother international mobility. 4 This oversight, I argue, is not incidental and reflects a traditional opposition within the Israeli establishment to the emergence of an open public debate on emigration. For a broader discussion on emigration discourse in Israel see N. Cohen, From overt rejection to enthusiastic embracement: changing state discourses on Israeli emigration, GeoJournal 68 (2007) 267–278. 5 Thus, for example, the official agenda of Israel’s current government headed by Prime Minister Ehud Olmert’s reads, ‘The government will continue to bring Jews to Israel’ [Available at: http://kadima.org.il/programs.php; last accessed 5 May 2008]. 6 Two main sources were used to collect data for this research. First, Israeli newspapers in both Hebrew and English were surveyed including Jerusalem Post, Haaretz, Hatzofe, Hamishmar, Yediot Achronot, Ma’ariv, Davar, Haboker, and Herut. Second, pertinent Proceedings of the Knesset (Israeli Parliament) were reviewed and quoted when appropriate. 1 0305-7488/$ – see front matter Ó 2009 Elsevier Ltd. All rights reserved. doi:10.1016/j.jhg.2009.03.002 Author's personal copy 20 N. Cohen / Journal of Historical Geography 36 (2010) 19–28 that in contrast to other newly independent democratic countries,7 Israel’s all-embracing battle against international mobility was intimately linked to its project of nation building. In its quest to (re)-territorialize national space and identity, the Israeli state constructed mobility as an act of territorial transgression, imbued it with multiple negative meanings, and subjected it to a regime of restrictive practices. The controversy around these practices exposed the inherent tensions between the state’s commitment to liberal-democratic values and its reliance upon coercive measures. The strategy was subsequently reformed, re-centering instead on symbolic practices of socio-moral persuasion as part of a national anti-emigration discursive campaign. The paper begins by theorizing mobility as a social product that stands in contrast to the notion of territorially rooted identity. It then discusses emigration in the Israeli context, arguing it was socially constructed as ‘bad mobility’ with potential destructive effects on the Zionist project. This portrayal legitimated the conception and deployment of various practices geared towards its abolishment. Practices are then divided into two major categories; legal or policy-oriented were those that required passing national laws or otherwise involved systematic interventions by the state. These included, for instance, the issuance of court orders to prevent financially indebted individuals and families from leaving the country. A second group of discursive-symbolic practices were those pursued outside traditional state arenas (courts of law, parliamentary committees) and deployed by a broad range of social agents. The paper concludes with a brief evaluation of these practices and their importance in the process of nation formation in Israel. The paper contributes to the emerging literature on state and mobility by uncovering the controversial nature of (anti)-emigration policies. In line with recent scholarship it acknowledges the social construction of mobility and exposes the distinct authoritative responses to its various shapes and forms.8 As Urry reminds us, ‘States routinely hold that there are good movers and bad movers and that the latter should be limited, penalized, extradited or thrown into prison’.9 Israel’s strategy is telling of states’ continuous efforts to differentiate between and act upon different mobilities. Examining its common use of and oscillation between restrictive practices to suppress mobility in the name of nation building, the paper sheds important light on the relationship between state and geographic mobility. (Im)mobility and national identity Mobile populations, including nomads, internally displaced people (IDPs), refugees, and more recently transnational migrants – have been the subject of different, often contradictory portrayals in the academic literature.10 Broadly speaking, mobility has been theorized in one of three distinct, yet interlinked, ways; first, a body of literature was developed that saw mobility as counter-hegemonic, standing in sharp contrast to the rule of the fixed, territorialized, and sovereign nation-state.11 Their perceived nomadic character, inability, or unwillingness to remain fixed in – and cultivate meaningful ties to – one place and the transgressive nature of their movement across clearly demarcated international boundaries have been quoted as incongruent to the pursuit of national projects undertaken by the sovereign state.12 The latter, with its bounded territoriality and image of social uniformity was described as ‘the metaphorical enemy of the nomad, attempting to take the tactile space and enclose and bound it’.13 Others argue that the disorderly, unregulated conduct of the mobile jeopardizes the sedentary images of nationally anchored cultural identities promoted by state apparatuses. Mobility in these accounts is theorized as imminently destructive to the national project of territorial identity formation.14 It is the free-flowing and often unaccounted movements – temporary and circular – which the hegemonic forces of the state seek to restrain and fix in place. Immobilizing the mobile (re-territorializing) is not to be done by bringing it to a complete halt, as this would no doubt elicit resistance, but by channeling its movements into properly designed and monitored conduits.15 A second, related strand theorizes the mobile as a de-territorialized other whose wide range of moral, medical, and political pathologies have potentially destabilizing effects on the natural order of things. Since territorial nation-states emerged as the only viable political geographic construct in the post-Westphalia era,16 unrootedness is aberrant and populations with different forms of attachments to territory (nomadic tribes, gypsies) were singled out and marginalized.17 Thus, for example, recent post-colonial readings of classical geographical and anthropological studies clearly show that modernists’ encounters with landless, mobile groups accelerated their construction as distorted bodies suffering excessive physiological and mental pathologies and, in general, contributed to their anomalous image in academic and popular literature alike.18 As Lisa Malkki famously shows in her discussion 7 India, for example, which declared independence shortly before Israel, has traditionally had a relaxed emigration policy. High population growth and unemployment rate as well as the importance of emigrants’ remittances to the Indian economy are often quoted as the main reasons for this favorable policy. The 1983 Emigration Act emphasizes the protection of the welfare of Indian laborers overseas (e.g., by regulating recruitment and departure of migrants and setting penalties for emigration offences). [See Ministry of Overseas Indian Affairs Website at http://www.moia.gov.in/.] 8 See M. Crang, Between places: producing hubs, flows, and networks, Environment and Planning A 34 (2002) 569–574; T. Cresswell, The production of mobilities, New Formations 43 (2001) 11–25; T. Cresswell, The right to mobility: the production of mobility in the courtroom, Antipode 38 (2006) 735–754; R. Imrie, Disability and discourses of mobility and movement, Environment and Planning A 32 (2000) 1641–1656. 9 J. Urry, Mobilities, Cambridge, 2007, 205. 10 T. Cresswell, Imagining the nomad: mobility and the postmodern primitive, in: G. Benko, U. Strohmayer (Eds), Space and Social Theory: Interpreting Modernity and Postmodernity, Oxford, 1997, 360–382; G. Deleuze, F. Guattari, Nomadology: the War Machine, New York, 1986. 11 T. Cresswell, On the Move: Mobility in the Modern Western World, London, 2006; Urry, Mobilities (note 9). 12 J. Clifford, Routes: Travel and Translation in the Later Twentieth Century, Cambridge, 1997; Crang, Between places (note 8); T. Cresswell, Mobility as resistance: a geographical reading of Kerouac’s ‘On the Road’, Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers 18 (2002) 249–262; J. Urry, Sociology Beyond Societies: Mobilities for the Twenty-First Century, London, 2000. 13 Cresswell, Imagining the nomad (note 10), 364. 14 T. Cresswell, Embodiment, power, and the politics of mobility: the case of female tramps and hobos, Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers 24 (1999) 175–192; L. Malkki, National Geographic: the rooting of peoples and the territorialization of national identity among scholars and refuges, Cultural Anthropology 7 (1992) 24–44. 15 Deleuze and Guatarri, Nomadology (note 10); G. Deleuze and F. Guatarri, A Thousand Plateaus, Minneapolis, 1987. 16 J. Agnew and S. Corbridge, Mastering Space: Hegemony, Territory and International Political Economy, London & New York, 1995. 17 See V. Azarya, Nomads and the State in Africa: The Political Roots of Marginality, Ledien, 1996; A. Meir, As Nomadism Ends: the Israeli Bedouin of the Negev, Boulder, 1997. 18 See L. Malkki, Purity and Exile: Violence, Memory and National Cosmology among Hutu Refugees in Tanzania, Chicago, 1995; M. Robins, ‘Lost Boys’ and the promised land: US newspaper coverage of Sudanese refugees, Journalism 4 (2003) 29–49. Author's personal copy N. Cohen / Journal of Historical Geography 36 (2010) 19–28 21 of national identity and mobility, refugees have often been objectified as ‘undifferentiated mass that is meaningful primarily as an aberration of categories and an object of ‘‘therapeutic intervention’’’. Consequently, healing the territorially aberrant mobile became a key objective of the colonizing forces of development. A third articulation of mobility is advanced by cultural theoreticians who expose the construction of the mobile as the epitome of exoticism.19 An admired, placeless individual who is free of the shackles imposed by the static, routine life of modernity the freespirited mobile – whether the free roaming cowboy, a cultural icon in US historiography or the nomadic Bedouin in Western Asia – was heralded as courageous yet restless figure.20 Her liberated nature notwithstanding, the fragmented identity of the exotic nomad – interpreted by some as based on particularistic, sectarian interests of the tribe or the village – was often quoted as a major obstacle to the totalizing loyalty required of state subjects. More recently, transnational migrants, referred to by some as ‘new world nomads’,21 were similarly accused of harboring an impossibly split identity that reflects their sense of simultaneous belonging to more than one nation-state. The notion that in borderless world crossborder mobility and the ensuing development of transnational spaces, identities and practices pose a serious threat to the hitherto culturally homogenous nation-state, received particular attention in the literature.22 Transnational migrants and other postmodern nomads were erroneously conceived as hegemony-resisting subjects whose dual, hybrid or in-between identities are imminently dangerous. Questions of re-attachment to territory in a socalled de-territorialized world resurfaced as the number of mobile individuals reached an all time high at the turn of the millennium.23 In Israel, de-territorialization and re-territorialization have been associated with the Zionist movement’s efforts to rid diasporic Jews of their so-called de-territorialized past and re-cultivate their ties to the Jewish homeland. The next section briefly describes these processes, arguing that countering Jewish mobility became a state project during Israel’s first decade of statehood. Jewish mobility in Israel: between re- and de-territorialization Analyses of Zionist ideology frequently underscore processes of identity re-territorialization among Jews who in-migrated to Palestine/Israel.24 Since Kibbutz Galuyot (‘ingathering of the exiles’) ˆ ´ was Israel’s raison d’etre, turning a melange of diasporic bodies into a cohesive and functioning nation by means of solidifying their weak bonds to the homeland was a key objective of Zionism since its inception. Perceived as fluid, mobile subjects, Jewish inmigrants encountered a wide range of practices aimed at ‘removing the diaspora’ (de-diasporization) as part of an overarching strategy to strengthen their bonds with the homeland’s territory (re-territorialization).25 Not surprisingly, geography as a discipline played a key role in this process of ‘spatial socialization’ and was used extensively by Zionist ideologists to accelerate the immersion of Jewish newcomers in their new cultural and physical environment.26 For example, the introduction of a new subject called Moledet (Hebrew for homeland) into the curriculum of all state schools was instrumental in promoting a sense of rootedness in place among Israeli children. Seeking ‘. to implant the children in the Land of Israel, the land of our fathers, the homeland of the Hebrew people, in which the State of Israel was renewed after 2000 years of exile’,27 Moledet classes became a key site of territorial identity formation in the emerging nation. Other common practices of de-diasporization and re-territorialization included place (re)-naming, which several Israeli geographers have studied, noting its instrumentality in erasing a foreign – Palestinian or other – past and imbuing it with a new, socio-territorial meaning.28 In their 2001 article in this journal, Azaryahu and Golan analyze the formation of the Hebrew map by the Israeli Governmental Name Commission in the first decade of independence. They argue that (re)-naming the landscape, namely affixing Hebrew names to places and other geographical attributes in seized Palestinian lands was part of a hegemonic state project to assert its cultural sovereignty over the newly acquired territory. Erasing a Palestinian past from the landscape ushered in the ideological project of constructing a linear, uninterrupted spatio-temporal link between biblical Zion and the newly independent Jewish state. Hebraicization of the landscape, they conclude, ‘highlighted the symbolic (re)appropriation of the Jewish homeland in the framework of national independence. Being an official text, the Hebraicized national map asserted the Jewish identity of the state of Israel as a conflation of the cultural and the territorial aspects of Jewish sovereignty’.29 Others similarly showed that the Hebraicization of new Jewish immigrants’ names was an important practice of re-territorialization in Israel during its early years. Strongly promoted by teachers and other agents of socialization in the educational system, youth movements and immigrants’ transition camps (Ma’abarot), renaming was a symbolic act of shedding an old, diasporic identity and adopting instead a nominal Israeli identity. The name chosen was also important and carried significant meanings of solid ties to the people and landscape. Almog, for example, notes that replacing foreign names with meaningful Hebrew names was a practice of symbolic re-territorialization because it provided newcomers a link to the nation’s history and geography, which was reflected in their See J. Wolff, On the road again: metaphors of travel in cultural criticism, Cultural Studies 6 (1992) 224–239. L. Street, Veils and Daggers: a Century of National Geographic’s Representation of the Arab World, Philadelphia, 2000; A.J. Arnold, Perilous symmetry: exoticism and the geography of colonial and postcolonial culture, French Literature Series 30 (2003) 1–28. 21 S. Hall, Cultural identity and diaspora. in: J. Rutherford (Ed.), Identity: Community, Culture, Difference, London, 1990, 224–239. 22 See A. Ong, Flexible Citizenship: the Cultural Logics of Transnationality, Durham, 1999; S. Vertovec, Transnationalism and identity, Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies 27 (2001) 573–582; H. Ghorashi, How dual is transnational identity: a debate on dual positioning of diaspora organizations, Culture & Organization 10 (2004) 329–340. 23 A. D’Andrea, Neo-nomadism: a theory of post-identitarian mobility in the global age, Mobilities 1 (2006) 95–119. 24 D. Newman, From national to post-national identities in Israel/Palestine, GeoJournal 53 (2001) 235–246. 25 A. Shapira, New Jews Old Jews, Tel Aviv, 1997 (in Hebrew). 26 On the role of geography in the Zionist ideology see Y. Bar-Gal, Moledet and Geography in Hundred Years of Zionist Education, Tel Aviv, 1993 (in Hebrew); Y. Bar-Gal, Boundaries as a topic in geographic education: the case of Israel, Political Geography 12 (1993) 421–437. 27 Y. Bar-Gal and B. Bar-Gal, ‘To tie the cords between the people and its land’: geography education in Israel, Israel Studies, 13, 44–67 (2008). 28 M. Azaryahu and A. Kellerman, Symbolic places of national history and revival: a study in Zionist mythical geography, Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers 24 (1999) 109–123; S.B. Cohen and N. Kliot, Place-names in Israel’s ideological struggle over the administered territories, Annals of the Association of American Geographers 82 (1992) 653–680; Y. Katz, Reclaiming the land: factors in naming the Jewish settlement in Palestine during the era of the British mandate, in: A. Demsky, A. Reif, J. Tabory (Eds), These are the Names: Studies in Jewish Onomastics, Ramat Gan, 1999, 63–112. 29 M. Azaryahu and A. Golan, (Re)naming the landscape: the formation of the Hebrew map of Israel, 1949–1960, Journal of Historical Geography 27 (2001) 178–195. 20 19 Author's personal copy 22 N. Cohen / Journal of Historical Geography 36 (2010) 19–28 Table 1 Israeli emigrants, by population group and year of emigration (1948–1967)a Year of emigration All emigrants (estimate) Total May 15, 1948 to December 31, 1948 1949 1950 1951 1952 1953 1954 1955 1956 1957 1958 1959 1960 1961 1962 1963 1964 1965 1966 1967 May 15, 1948 to December 31, 1967 a new heroic, biblical, and/or landscape-related names.30 While the name change cultural campaign was never forceful,31 the antidiaspora (Shelilat Hagalut) atmosphere in the country and the strong stigmatization of everything foreign encouraged many immigrants to abandon their old and adopt Hebrew names shortly after their arrival. A much less debated aspect of the use of de-diasporization and re-territorialization practices in the Israeli context has been that which deals with international mobility in general and emigration in particular. Known in Hebrew as Yeridah (‘descendance’), Jewish out migration was long described as a dangerous form of mobility, which could, if left untreated, lead to the total demise of the Zionist enterprise.32 Symbolizing the failure to instill a sense of meaningful connection to the land and, more importantly, the return to the deterritorialized diaspora that had been characteristic of Jewish existence for two millenniums,33 emigration has been a major cause of concern in Israel, especially during its early days. Not only was the act itself perceived a vote of no confidence in the still fragile polity but, more broadly, a major blow to Zionism’s most salient tenet, namely re-territorialization. Jewish outflows from Palestine began long before the establishment of the State of Israel, but since they were being offset by counter-waves of in-migrants from the Jewish diaspora they were seldom perceived as an imminent threat. By the early 1950s, persistent geopolitical tensions with neighboring Arab countries and severe economic depression propelled many Israeli Jews to leave the struggling country (see Table 1). Towards the end of 1952, only four years after independence, it was estimated that over 50,000 Jews left the country, most of whom to the Americas (52%) and Europe (20%) in what was explained as ‘a quest for greater material comfort’.34 Smaller flows were recorded among recent inmigrants who returned to their countries of origin in North Africa (mostly Morocco and Tunisia), Turkey, Iran, and India.35 Discouraged by institutionalized ethnic discrimination, unfitting housing conditions in Ma’abarot, rampant poverty and unemployment, many Mizrahim (‘Easterners’, Jews originating in the Muslim countries of the Middle East) chose repatriation, further exacerbating the fragile demographic balance. In the following years emigration accelerated even faster and by the end of the first decade more than 100,000 Israelis left the country.36 More than their absolute numbers, it was the demographic profile of the departed that constituted the biggest challenge and motivated the state to conceive anti-emigration measures. Two trends in particular were troubling; first, the relative high percentage of pre-state veterans among emigrants. Despite their stronger socio-economic profile and what some thought were ‘firmer ties to homeland’, by 1952 their share in out migration reached a record twenty five percent.37 Equally disturbing were the negative effects emigration had on prospective Jewish in-migration to Israel. As a large number of disgruntled emigrants (re)-settled in foreign countries their encounters with diaspora Jews was Jews 1040 7207 9463 10057 13000 12500 7000 6000 11000 11000 11500 9500 8500 NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA Non-jews 114 200 503 419 500 500 500 400 400 400 200 250 300 NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA Rateb NA 7.0 7.9 7.0 8.4 7.9 4.4 3.7 6.2 5.9 5.8 4.7 4.2 3.3 3.3 4.6 3.7 3.1 3.0 3.9 NA 1154 7407 9966 10,476 13,500 13,000 7500 6400 11,400 11,400 11,700 9750 8800 7330 7644 10,866 9121 7941 7793 10,529 183,677 Adapted by the author from Israel’s Statistical Yearbook, 1984. Jerusalem: publications of the Central Bureau of Statistics. b Per 1000 residents. inevitable. Emigrants, many of whom disheartened by what they thought was insensitive, discriminating bureaucracy were extremely critical towards Israeli state and society. Sharing these less-than-flattering images with local Jews, it was argued, discourage the latter from moving to Israel. The following excerpt illustrates the concern: In the US, in South America, in Africa, in Europe and everywhere else a horrible rumor is spreading like a plague that Jewish revival [in Israel] has failed . Emigrants’ stories forever center . on the weakest, most negative aspects [of life in Israel]. They [are] spies who assist our enemies. They tell stories about our insecurities and our anxieties in and around the frontiers; about our weaknesses and the failures of our [economic] productivization; about the failures of the agricultural settlement movement, demoralization, corruption and egoism. In their eyes . there is not a single positive thing in this country, nothing was accomplished, and nothing exists beyond its failures. [Emigrants] are our second Ministry of Foreign Affairs, special ambassadors whose only objective is to make us look bad abroad. [This] anti-Israeli living propaganda . may undermine within a short period of time the entire efforts of the Zionist propaganda. [Should we fail to stop this emigrant propaganda], the operations of our emissaries abroad and the educational and cultural O. Almog, The Sabra: the Creation of the New Jew, Tel Aviv, 2000 (in Hebrew). The only known exception was the massive morale pressure exerted on Israeli officers by the military establishment to change their names (Almog, The Sabra (note 30), 151). 32 Z. Sobel, Migrants from the Promised Land, New Brunswick, 1986; M. Shokeid, Children of Circumstances: Israeli Emigrants in New York, Ithaca, 1988. 33 A common theme in the discourse had been the ‘Wandering Jew’, a figure from medieval Christian legend who was cursed to walk the earth after he had ridiculed Christ on his way to crucifixion. On the use of the myth of the Wandering Jew in the process of Zionist identity formation see I. Idalovichi, Creating national identity through a legend: the case of the wandering Jew, Journal for the Study of Religions and Ideologies 12 (2005) 3–26. 34 In one of the earliest systematic attempts to research Israeli emigration it was found that in 45% of the cases emigrants quoted economic considerations as the main motive for leaving the country. See A. Cohen, Emigration in the eyes of emigrants, in: M. Lissak, B. Mizrahi, O. Ben David (Eds), Olim Beyisrael (Immigrants in Israel), Jerusalem, 1970, 787–808 (in Hebrew). 35 As reported by Minister of the Interior Israel Rokach, Proceedings of the Knesset, 25 Feb. 1953. 36 Z. Kessler, Tenth anniversary marked by mass flight from the country, Herut, 29 Sep. 1957. 37 Israel Rokach, Proceedings of the Knesset (note 36). 31 30 Author's personal copy N. Cohen / Journal of Historical Geography 36 (2010) 19–28 23 activities done by the state, the Jewish Agency and other national foundations will all be in vein.38 Unable to stop this so-called Israeli propaganda, the government was determined to prevent – or at least minimize – international mobility in general and emigration in particular. Imposing restrictions on mobility became a legitimate tool in the battle against what one journalist called ‘the (re)-turning of Israelis into [diaspora] Jews’.39 Three arguments were commonly advanced to rationalize anti-mobility measures. The first centered on the notion that Israeli travelers and/or emigrants are responsible for a considerable loss of much needed foreign currency. The fear of losing foreign currency was tied to the national steadfastness that was required of Israeli citizens at times of crisis. Outflows as a result of international mobility did not carry financial implications only, but constituted ‘a major blow to the nation’s prestige . which a country fighting for its survival cannot afford to ignore. The pursuit [after exit permits] is never a sign of national health and becomes even more dangerous during these testy times’.40 A second argument highlighted the social inappropriateness of mobility at times of overall ‘belt-tightening’. The socialist agenda embedded in the Zionist ideology emphasized equal sharing of the collective burden and preached for frugality as a way of life. Unless it served the nation’s interest, cross-border mobility was generally frowned upon as it constituted a form of hedonistic, bourgeoisie privilege reserved only to the haves. As one journalist noted in this respect, ‘in a reality of Tzena,41 of shortage in the most basic of necessities, it is hard to understand the importance given to exit permits, which are – after all – a luxury reserved for the rich only’.42 International mobility was described not only as drainage of collective resources, but also as an internal divider within Israeli society between economic classes and as such a threat to an egalitarian Zionist society. Finally, and most prosaically, being outside the state’s territory even for a limited period of time was seen as detrimental to the frail demographic balance of the nation and its ability to defend its borders. Unless fully authorized and justified (as in the case of the ‘only essential travel’ principle discussed below) mobility was debilitating due to its adverse impact on the nation’s ability to sustain and defend itself. One journalist, responding to the news that the government was considering a more liberal exit policy wrote, ‘The general interest, the state’s interest, its right to exist demand immigration, immediate immigration, and not emigration. [It not only deteriorates] our political situation – shrinkage of labor and defense force – but further constitutes ‘‘back stabbing’’ of the young state. For how do we defend on the state borders on the one hand and weaken this defense on the other?’43 Israel’s anti-mobility strategy Israel’s anti-mobility strategy during its first decade can be broadly divided into two fairly distinct periods each characterized by its own objective, sets of practices, and sites and mechanisms of deployment. The first period’s main objective was to minimize international mobility in the name of the national economy, security and identity. Mainly consisting of legal practices, namely policy measures requiring the passing of laws, this period, which I term ‘legalism’ saw a considerable involvement of state officials in the general anti-mobility campaign. While using the law to mitigate international mobility was common throughout the first decade, for reasons I explain below it was especially popular during the first period. Advocates of the legal (or policy-oriented) approach argued that since Jewish mobility is a problem of national significance, it ought to be dealt with comprehensively by the relevant agencies of the state and its affiliates (e.g., the Jewish Agency for Israel).44 Thus, for example, the Minister of Finance supported the imposition of tough measures against international travel arguing that in a reality of economic depression and shortage in the most basic supplies, exit permits must be rationed to prevent mass departure and foreign currency outflows.45 The second period, which I term ‘symbolism’ witnessed the emergence of discursive-symbolic practices pursued by social agents usually outside the law enforcement system. Proponents of this approach underscored the ineffectiveness and, indeed, antidemocratic nature of legal practices and advocated instead the cultivation of a mobility-averse public atmosphere. Arguing that Jewish mobility is inevitable and normal, they nonetheless suggested a concentrated, state-society collaboration to de-legitimize it. While the state’s involvement in promoting anti-mobility discourse was not entirely dismissed, it was to play an aiding role only, providing the morale justification for social agents to act on behalf of the nation’s interest. Becoming more common during the decade’s second half (1953–1958), these practices were limited acts of social resistance to out migration, taking place at ordinary sites and carrying primarily symbolic meaning. State-led legalism (1948–1953) As early as August 1948, only three months after the declaration of independence, and while the IDF was still fighting Arab armies, a sweeping travel control was enforced by the Israeli government. According to a new set of emergency regulations, no person was allowed to leave the country without an exit permit from the Minister of the Interior ‘who may withhold it or impose such general or particular conditions as he wishes’.46 Places of lawful exit were also designated and included Haifa and Tel Aviv ports and Haifa, Ein Shemer, and Tel Aviv airfields only. The new policy was commonly attributed to the waging war and the need to retain as many potential soldiers in the country as possible.47 Traveling abroad at times of crisis was seen a form of individualistic mobility that clashes with the collective effort of defending the homeland’s territory. Regardless of its length, leaving the country was believed to reflect negatively on the nation’s image as one front (Chazit Achat Davar, 28 Oct. 1953. Exit Permit and Hefkerut Permit, Hatzofe, 9 Oct. 1953. Policy makers were critical of what they termed ‘excessive mobility’, a trait often attributed to the diasporic, de-territorialized Jewish past. Minister Rokach alluded to this connection between mobility and the Jewish diaspora, noting ‘In my opinion . this exit [of Israelis] has something to do with the characteristics of two thousand years of [Jewish] diasporic education, during which we were mobile, suffering misery, pain and persecution – and we cannot abolish it overnight’ (Proceedings of the Knesset, 11 Nov. 1953). 40 Travel rush, Herut, 4 June 1950. 41 An economic regime of austerity enacted in Israel (1949–1952) during which rationing of basic supplied was enforced. Most restrictions were cancelled in 1953. 42 A. Golan, Who will get an exit permit? Yediot Achronot, 31 Aug. 1951. 43 R. Shalgi, Emissaries of bad will, Hamishmar, 26 Oct. 1953. 44 The Jewish Agency is a para-state organization dealing with immigration and absorption of Diaspora Jews in Israel. 45 Golan, Who will get an exit permit? (note 43). 46 Is your journey necessary? Jerusalem Post, 28 Aug. 1948. 47 Is your journey necessary? (note 47). 39 38 Author's personal copy 24 N. Cohen / Journal of Historical Geography 36 (2010) 19–28 in Hebrew) and debilitate its spirit in the face of internal and external enemies. The Minister’s announcement of the new policy stressed that need, noting that ‘in view of the present emergency permission to leave Israel will be given only in exceptional cases’.48 Those wishing to travel abroad had to obtain three confirmations: one from the National Treasury showing that their taxes were paid up-to-date, another from the Labor Department proving that they satisfied the labor service requirement, and a third from the Ministry of Defense confirming they lawfully completed their military service. Even cases of medical emergency were not exempted from the draconic process and applicants were asked to obtain a certificate from an authorized medical institution stating that no suitable treatment was available in the country.49 The strict enforcement of travel control and the unpredictable outcome of the application process elicited strong public reactions. Various cases in which sick and elderly citizens were denied exit permits for no apparent reason were made public and fueled a rage over the inhumane nature of the regulations as well as the negative image resulting from the travel control.50 Public dissatisfaction with travel control and the selective application process grew stronger as they remained in effect in the aftermath of the 1948 War. Even within the usually supportive Israeli press critical voices were heard that questioned the harsh policy and raised serious doubts whether it was indeed serving any pure interests of national security. One journalist noted, ‘[R]estriction on foreign travel might have been justifiable in the interests of public morale as long as actual fighting was in progress or was imminent. But what possible justification can there now be for withholding exit permits from people who do not fall within categories that may objectively be regarded as militarily essential?’.51 Maintaining travel restrictions almost one full year after the end of the war was read by some as a sign that it is mobility altogether and not simply unnecessary mobility that the government sought to contain. Fear of mass human departure as a result of the ailing economy, it was argued, was the key rationale all along. The policy was often compared to those in concentration camps during the Holocaust.52 An article in a leading newspaper cynically commented that sealing the borders stems from the government’s panic of mass emigration, ‘the ignominious belief that any resident or citizen of Israel, if given half a chance to get away, would never wish to come back and so must be forcibly detained in the country’.53 By late 1949 most travel restrictions were lifted,54 though a major wave of international mobility, both permanent and temporary, in the months thereafter made it re-think its strategy.55 Having received over 3000 travel requests in each of the first six months of 1950, the Ministry of Immigration introduced the principle of ‘only essential travel’ in granting exit permits. According to the new principle, permits were issued only to those who could prove beyond reasonable doubt that their travel was necessary for national welfare. As explained by government officials, the new policy was not meant to prevent people from leaving the country altogether or ‘to stop the issue of exit permits entirely, but to control travel abroad so that, with specific exceptions, only those whose trip is expected to serve the country, will be authorized to go’.56 Among those whose trips were expected to serve the national interest were official emissaries of the state and delegates to international conferences. Merchants and businesspeople wishing to import industrial equipment necessary for the production of consumer goods in Israel or otherwise sell locally made goods abroad were also included. Still others who qualified included Israelis of German and Austrian descent whose travel was necessary in order to recover family-owned property in their countries of origin. A final category was that of students accepted to study at universities abroad, yet only if their programs of study were in ‘branches of science useful to the country’s economy’.57 Requests for permits on grounds other than the above were overwhelmingly denied, mostly by the Ministry of Finance which explained the introduction of the principal in the need to ‘curtail the unauthorized transfer of currency’.58 The ‘travel rush’, as some have referred to the sharp increase in exit permits applications, was financially debilitating and required a swift intervention on the part of the state.59 Legally preventing human and financial outflows was described as a way to defend the national interest and stop Israel’s economic deterioration. Yet, a careful analysis of the discourse reveals that the principle was generally aimed to stop what some derisively called ‘excessive travel abroad’.60 The press played a key role in stripping international mobility of its neutral meaning and discursively constructed it as a form of individual and collective weakness, a dangerous liberty that must be kept under state control, lest it plague society. She who wished to travel abroad, it was argued, had to ask herself, ‘is your journey necessary?’ and socially appropriate at times of national hardships.61 Travel abroad soon acquired negative connotations and was attributed to the emergence of a Jewish bourgeoisie class in Israel who puts its own interests over those of the nation. As no apparent change in the magnitude of international mobility was detected by the summer of 1950s, senior officials began promoting the quota system. According to the new regulation a total of 800 citizens would be allowed to leave the country on a monthly basis. In an unusual response to the proposal, which was described as part of the national combat against a looming financial crisis, members of the Israeli Association of Travel Agents (IATA) announced their objection. Warning against what they called ‘a major blow to the fundamental democratic right to mobility’, they claimed that ‘the arbitrary classification . of the types travel allowed and setting a monthly quota . both harm the state’s good reputation and its personnel’.62 Despite these sentiments, the 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 Travel control in force, Jerusalem Post, 28 Aug. 1948. Travel control in force (note 49). Aged woman denied exit permit, Jerusalem Post, 2 Aug. 1948. Freedom of exit, The Palestine Post, 7 Aug. 1949. Free entrance, no exit? Haaretz, 30 Aug. 1948. Free entrance, no exit? (note 53). No restrictions on exiting the country except military considerations and debt to authorities, Haaretz, 7 Sep. 1949. In 1950 alone, more than 10,000 people emigrated. New restrictions on travel abroad put into effect, Jerusalem Post, 15 Aug. 1950 (italics added). New restrictions on travel abroad (note 57). New restrictions on travel abroad (note 57). Y. Markus, I am travelling abroad, Herut, 9 June 1950. On excessive exiting, Davar, 11 Sep. 1949. Is your journey necessary? (note 47). The Association of Travel and Tourist Agencies appeal on travel restrictions abroad, Haboker, 7 July 1950. Author's personal copy N. Cohen / Journal of Historical Geography 36 (2010) 19–28 25 government refused to remove legal restrictions entirely, resorting instead to an extreme over-bureaucratization of the application process. This caused exceptional delays in the issuance of exit permits – in some cases up to six months – and discouraged many from pursuing international travel altogether.63 While 1951 witnessed a small decline in the number of Israeli emigrants, the following year saw a sharp increase. Alarmed by these record numbers, in January 1952 the government imposed a new restriction according to which those wishing to leave would have to purchase their air/sea line tickets abroad.64 The rationale behind this seemingly counter-intuitive measure was to prevent Israeli travelers from spending their foreign currency by forcing them to rely on their relatives abroad. Complicating the ticket purchase process, it was hoped, would drastically reduce the number of those wishing to travel and the total amount of foreign currency outflow. The new regulation elicited strong opposition from both civic groups and political parties, including those within the coalition. The press vehemently criticized the decision and the exit permit system more generally comparing it to a Communist policy and noting it deprive citizens of a democratic state of their fundamental right to mobility.65 Ad-hoc organization of progressive public figures critiqued the government for the inherent tensions between its public commitment to liberal values and the continuous usage of coercive anti-mobility measures. They called for the cancellation of the exit permit system on grounds of its ‘inhumane nature’ and the fact that its regulations ‘harm the interests of the state and its citizens . arbitrary, and miss the point for which they were designed’.66 Resistance to the decision transcended political boundaries and elicited strong reactions even from within Ben Gurion’s powerful Labor party. Member of Knesset Eliezer Livneh was particularly harsh, calling for the cancellation of all the ‘allegedly undemocratic measures’ against mobility: The knowledge that one may not proceed abroad at will creates a feeling of frustration and confinement. It excites rather than dulls the desire to travel, beyond the natural inclination to pay visits and take trips. The very notion that a certain Government department is empowered to decide whether one’s journey is ‘essential’ or not, and by such token to determine one’s freedom of movement, is anti-democratic at the root. Freedom of movement is vital of every free man. Public opinion in the democratic world finds it hard to understand why a free country must rigidly govern the movement of its citizens, and there are those who impute unsavory reasons and unfounded motives.67 Others rationalized their objection differently, arguing that out migration is a normal and in some respects positive phenomenon because it frees the country from people who are physically and morally unprepared. Suggesting that all restrictions be removed to allow the unfit to leave, one journalist claimed, ‘not all Jews are idealists and not all in-migrants fit physically, socially and spiritually to the conditions reigning in Israel’.68 The normalizing discourse in tandem with the establishment of a new government paved the way towards a more lenient approach towards international mobility. Shortly after it was sworn in December 1952, Ben Gurion’s new government announced the removal of all restrictive measures on obtaining exit permits. Explaining the decision, the new Minister of the Interior noted that while the absolute number of emigrants may seem high, their relative share in the total population is fairly low. He also alluded to the difficulties of restricting mobility by law arguing that ‘except for countries behind the [iron] curtain I know of no countries from which there are zero exiting’. Directing his criticism for towards the far-right opposition and previous governments for creating an unjustified sense of emergency he concluded, Of course it is worrisome that people are exiting, but the percentage in not catastrophic [to justify legal measures]. There are those who pass through the country to go elsewhere because they have relatives overseas; there are those who never put down roots here for various reasons, either social or economic; there are those who return to their parents and relatives. [But] their percentage should not worry us.69 While the infamous system itself remained in place, a massive administrative reorganization process led by the Minister facilitated a quicker application process and allowed most applicants to receive their permits within two to four weeks.70 This early sign of policy liberalization notwithstanding, the firm Israeli stance against human mobility remained intact. Yet, as the next section illustrates, the next few years saw anti-mobility in Israel shifting towards a symbolic-discursive terrain. Society-led symbolism (1954–1958) The rise in travel requests during the first half of 1953 prompted the government to re-think its exclusive reliance on legal practices as a means to mitigate outward mobility.71 Alarmed by both quantity and quality of departing citizens,72 both Knesset (Israeli Parliament) and the Jewish Agency convened special forums to debate and re-strategize. The Knesset appointed a seven-member fact finding committee to examine ‘The Problem of Leaving the Country Permanently’. Appearing before the committee, the Head of the Consular Department in the Foreign Ministry lamented the futility of the current approach and called for ‘compassionate toughness’ against mobility: If we only limit ourselves to deploying regulation concerning passport issuance and exit permits, the legal nucleus of emigration will disappear and people will seek illegal ways to leave the country. [By relying on laws to stop exiting] we The War in Korea and Going Abroad, Ma’ariv, 26 July 1950. A new restriction on exit abroad, Haboker, 15 Jan. 1952. 65 For the cancellation of the exit permit, Haboker, 20 Apr. 1952. 66 Movement for the cancelation of exit permits, Haaretz, 14 Jan. 1952. 67 Exit permits an unnecessary svil, Jerusalem Post, 24 June 1952. 68 M. Grossman, Emigration from Israel – a normal phenomenon, Haboker, 4 Apr. 1952. 69 Proceedings of the Knesset, 25 Feb. 1953. 70 Restrictions on exit permits will be cancelled on March 1, Haboker, 16 Feb. 1952. 71 According to a background paper prepared for the discussions of the Parliamentary Committee of the Interior more than 56,000 Israeli Jews left the country by the end of May 1954. 72 A relatively high percentage of emigrants were highly educated foreign and Israeli-born Jews (known as Sabras). Daily newspapers frequently published articles decrying emigration of physicians and other high-prestige professionals. See for example, In the footsteps of those running away from Israel: the people of culture who turn their back on us, Yediot Achronot, 23 Nov. 1953, which critically discusses the high rate of emigration among Israeli artists. 64 63 Author's personal copy 26 N. Cohen / Journal of Historical Geography 36 (2010) 19–28 won’t prevent emigration but instead restrict [them] without fixing the root cause of the problem.73 Accepting the new approach, the committee distinguished between temporary stay abroad and emigration and recommended that the government ‘attack’ the latter both legally and symbolically. They further suggested that an anti-emigration public campaign be organized and led by the state, though noted that its success required a close collaboration with non-governmental organizations.74 The idea behind the campaign was to explain to veteran Israelis and recent Jewish in-migrants the objective difficulties associated with the emigration process and life abroad. It was meant to balance the skewed public discourse, which overglorified emigration and led to what some called ‘the psychosis of running away’.75 [There is a] need to bring to the attention of recent inmigrants – in a frequent manner and in the form and language that is appropriate for them – the imminent difficulties of emigration and the various implications. [To] explain – by ways of lectures, conversations, articles in inmigrants’ newspapers as well as special issues – the problematic of emigration to remote countries and the difficulties of absorption faced by Jewish emigrants over the years . [And to] highlight every attempt made by emigrants to return to Israel, while mentioning their particular impetus.76 Roughly around the same time, a three member committee was appointed by the Jewish Agency to answer the question: ‘why more than 1000 people leave Israel every month’.77 They made a similar distinction between legal and symbolic practices, arguing that both were necessary to minimize emigration. In regards to the latter, they urged the government to form a public body to create ‘antiemigration atmosphere’ and use the press to publish letters of emigrants describing their difficulties (in)-adjusting to life abroad. There is a need, it was argued, ‘to explain to new in-migrants . in speaking, writing and through the radio in their native languages the problematic of emigration to remote countries and the difficulties of assimilation of Jewish immigrants in these places’.78 Both resolutions paved the way for a new discourse, and, indeed, set of symbolic practices in the national battle against mobility.79 Two attributes of the new approach are worth mentioning in this regard. First, in contrast to the past, it was not international mobility altogether that was to be contained but emigration as a specific type of undesired mobility.80 Second, increasingly, state agencies saw their role as promoters of the popular campaign against emigration – rather than its sole coordinators or executers – and their staff were instructed to remain intentionally distant and refrain from admitting any connection to the unfolding practices. Their receding involvement notwithstanding, bureaucrats were instrumental in mobilizing the press, migrants’ associations, labor unions, and other civic stakeholders as part of a broader coalition aimed at delegitimizing and symbolically resisting emigration. As mentioned earlier, one of the key symbolic practices employed was the publication of letters written by disgruntled (returning) emigrants in describing their own personal experience abroad. Making these accounts public meant to deter prospective emigrants from leaving by vividly depicting the harsh climatic and socio-economic conditions in foreign countries. Popular destinations like the US, Canada, Brazil, and Germany were often described as unsavory places whose populations were self-centered, moneydriven, and in some cases overtly anti-Semitic.81 The press enthusiastically collaborated with the state in making these letters visible, publishing emigrants’ stories on a daily basis.82 One journalist writing about the ‘psychosis’ of obtaining migration visas to Canada and the US rationalized this practice as follows: We must find a way to stop this emigration wave. [In addition to legal restrictions] there is another way – the way of explaining [Hasbara]. The government ought to publish all the letters received in our consulates from emigrants who wish to return to Israel. Some of these letters are horrific and could make potential emigrants doubt [their decision]; we ought to explain to the people in Israel that if they burn the bridges behind them, it is hard to re-build them; there is a need to describe the emigrants’ situation in their new ‘Heavens’. Even more, we need to allow a certain number of emigrants to return home. One returning emigrant could affect the atmosphere among prospective emigrants better than ten illogical notices issued by the state to make leaving the country a complex endeavor.83 A later development was the suggestion to publish the names of emigrants at least one month before their final departure. This practice, like many others, was brought up in a letter written to the Minister of the Interior. In it he argued that making their names public could deter emigrants and is likely to prevent some from leaving. On a more practical level, the idea was to prevent indebted individuals from fleeing the country before they settled their pending financial matters.84 While the law was never enacted, this example sheds light on the deep sense of personal commitment shared by many Israeli citizens to maintaining an emigrationaverse atmosphere. The need to stop indebted individuals from emigrating was an argument frequently advanced by local authorities, the Jewish Agency as well as the General Federation of the Laborers in the Land of Israel (known in Hebrew as Histadrut).85 Though masked as a moral, largely symbolic issue (money received during immigration must be returned before emigration), the idea that emigrants should reimburse public and private entities for the aid received in the course of their settlement process was imminently material and struck a sensitive cord with policy makers aware of the state’s Z. Avnon, Proceedings of the Protocol of the Sub-committee on the Problem of Leaving the Country Permanently, 13 Jan. 1954. Final Report of the Fact Finding Committee on the Problem of Leaving the Country Permanently, Proceedings of the Knesset, 20 Feb. 1954. See Z. Ben-David, On the psychosis of running away from the country, Herut, 9 Sep. 1951. 76 K. Levin, Y. Reches and A. Erst, The Final Report of the Committee Appointed by the Jewish Agency on the Problem of Emigrants, 5 Oct. 1953. 77 Levin, Reches and Erst, The Final Report (note 77). 78 M. Meizels, Harden exit, facilitate return, Ma’riv, 20 Oct. 1953. 79 By ‘symbolic’ I do not mean that these were a-material practices, but rather that they were not legally binding and took place in informal, everyday spaces. 80 It is important to note that despite several discussions in the Israeli parliament, the exit permit system remained intact through the end of the decade. It was repeatedly explained by the nation’s security interests and the inevitable need to maintain a state of emergency. 81 See R. Yaffe, With emigrants in Canada, Al Hamishmar, 15 Oct. 1954. 82 See Why did I escape Canada and Returned to Israel, Yediot Achronot, 25 Apr. 1952. The emigrant whose story is unfolded in the article compares Canadian labor market to a concentration camp and confesses that leaving Israel was a terrible mistake. 83 E. Weisel, The way back is not strewn with roses, Yediot Achronot, 1 Dec. 1953. 84 A suggestion to enact a law to publish names of emigrants a month prior to their departure, Haboker, 17 Oct. 1956. 85 The Israeli trade union congress. 74 75 73 Author's personal copy N. Cohen / Journal of Historical Geography 36 (2010) 19–28 27 imbalanced budget. Minister of the Interior, for example, argued that while the government ought to refrain from imposing legal restrictions on emigration as a whole, it is bound to ‘fight against the trend of stealing the property of the Jewish people which was given to emigrants when they immigrated to Israel’ by employing all means necessary.86 In line with this reasoning, the Tel Aviv regional court issued a ban on the travel of several to-be-emigrants who refused to reimburse the Jewish Agency for expenses incurred during their settlement process, including the agricultural farm granted to them upon arrival. The Supreme Court later overruled the decision, rejecting the Agency’s claim aid money (including cost of transport from Europe) must be refunded. In his decision, the presiding judge noted that since the relationship between state agencies and settlers has not been based upon ‘solid legal foundation’ it is not entitled to the refund and must allow them to emigrate immediately.87 The decision sent an important message to state officials concerning the limitedness of legal practices in the battle against emigration. By untying the Gordian knot that previously existed between national considerations (e.g., security, economic stability) and (im)-mobility, it not only forced the state to reformulate a new set of practices to fight emigration, but further paved the way for a more liberalized travel regime. By referring to mobility as an act of free will in which the state’s involvement must be kept to a minimum, the Court re-defined civil obligations towards the state and prioritized human rights over national interests. As a senior officer put it when asked whether measures taken by the authorities in the fight against emigration were not too lenient, ‘We cannot turn this state into a police state . we cannot turn every exit permit applicant into a potential criminal. Our choice [was] between reducing emigration by severe surveillance that will entail a police regime and giving up on some anti-emigration means for a freer, more democratic regime. We chose the latter’.88 The following years saw a dramatic increase in the number of social actors acting to symbolically de-legitimize emigration. Three particularly important actors were immigrant associations, political parties, and labor unions, which frequently acted outside the official realm of the state in support of the campaign. In the remainder of the section I wish to elaborate on key practices taken by these groups. New immigrant associations in Israel were key sources of valuable information concerning employment, education, and housing opportunities. A prime source of social ties for their members, associations played a major role in their process of national identity formation. Their success was measured in their ability to help immigrants adjust smoothly to life in the new country and it is therefore not surprising that they took a proactive approach against emigration – both in general and among their own communities. Encouraged by the government, which saw them as important allies in the anti-emigration campaign, associations used their administrative apparatus to discourage members from leaving the country. One anti-emigration practice was the staging of public trials to condemn emigrants and hold them accountable for their ‘unpatriotic deeds’. This type of public peer pressure became an important spectacle of unity in which members of the association gathered in public places to symbolically reject their departing countrymen in absentia. As such, trials were effective tools in promoting national identity in the new country while using regional and national bonds formed in the old country. One famous trial was organized by the Association of Bokovinian Jews in Haifa in 1954. As a growing number of in-migrants hailing from the Romanian city sought repatriation, the association put on a public trial in which they were accused of deserting the Jewish homeland. The trial, which was replicated in several cities, was attended by hundreds of Romanian in-migrants. Simulating a real trial, including a local judge, two attorneys, a jury, and key witnesses, members of the jury were asked to decide whether Bokovinian emigrants were defectors guilty of betrayal and if so, should they be ostracized by the association. A majority among members of the jury found their departing countrymen guilty and recommended their subjection to a public condemnation.89 Labor unions, affiliated with the powerful Histadrut, were also active participants in the campaign against emigration. Their attempts to fight it legally were usually unsuccessful,90 though they played an important role in spreading the emigration-averse atmosphere. One famous example was the case of stevedores in the Port of Haifa who refused to load the luggage of emigrants onto a docked ship. Claiming their act was spontaneous and not a result of pressure exerted by their labor union, they refused to help emigrants who were about to set sail to Europe. Their petty act of resistance, their representatives argued, was ideologically driven, intending to ‘voice . moral objection to leaving Israel’ and express dissatisfaction with the growing numbers of emigrants.91 In the course of the heated debate that followed, stevedores have allegedly cursed emigrants who were compelled to load their luggage personally, calling them ‘traitors’, and accusing them of defecting at times of crisis. A third, perhaps unlikely ally to the symbolic campaign was the main political opposition party. Headed by Member of Knesset Menachem Begin, Herut was a right-wing party among whose members were veterans of the IZL (National Military Organization), a radical, pre-state Jewish underground movement. Usually at odds with Ben Gurion’s coalition, Herut consistently supported the government in its anti-emigration campaign, calling occasionally for tougher measures against ‘the ease with which Israeli citizens leave the country’. Begin himself often accused the government of not doing enough to prevent emigration and instructed his followers to collaborate with representatives of migrant communities to explain the severity of the problem. A key practice was the dissemination of printed material among concentrations of migrants in which they were urged not to leave the country. Antiemigration pamphlets were also used to inform new immigrants of their social and economic rights and garner political support. One pamphlet pleaded migrants not to become emigrants while criticizing the government for being responsible for the social and economic ills that drive many to emigrate: Citizen of Israel, do not be an emigrant! Your country needs each and every individual – do not weaken it by leaving it. [Despite the regime’s faults and because of it] it is your holy duty to stay here and take part in the effort to change the regime, to liberate the entire homeland, to base it upon 86 87 88 89 90 91 Bar-Yehudah: 60 thousands emigrated since 1948, while 805 thousands who immigrated, Lamerchav, 30 Sep. 1956. Agency said lax in settlement contract, Jerusalem Post, 16 Dec. 1954. Z. Kessler, The state’s tenth year – in the shadow of a mass escape from the country, Herut, 29 Sep. 1957. Emigrants’ trial ended in fiasco, Yediot Achronot, 26 June 1954. Histadrut launched a war against emigration, Ma’ariv, 23 May 1956. Stevedores refuse to Load Emigrants Bags, Jerusalem Post, 11 Dec. 1953. Author's personal copy 28 N. Cohen / Journal of Historical Geography 36 (2010) 19–28 principles of justice and freedom . because a government may come and go, but the land is ours forever.92 The mobilization of key parts of Israel’s civil society to the symbolic battle against emigration was usually successful. While it is clear that the steep decline in the number of emigrants in the mid-1950 and again towards the end of the decade could not be attributed exclusively to the symbolic shift, making anti-emigration a prime social interest remained an important part of the state arsenal well into the 1980s. The last two decades, however, have seen a positive change in the discourse towards emigration and a more liberal state policy has been in place since the early 1990s.93 Conclusions The paper examines anti-mobility in Israel during its first decade of statehood. It argues that mobility was socially constructed as an imminent threat to the static territorial identity state leaders sought to cultivate among Israeli Jews. Consequently, it was subjected to a regime of state control constituting the exit permit system, the ‘only essential travel’ principle and other restrictive practices. Rationalized by need to protect the emerging nation from the social, economic and morale effects of international mobility, the legalistic approach’s failure to reduce the number of exiting citizens in tandem with strong popular dissatisfaction with its antidemocratic nature prompted the government to abandon it. Subsequently, a more focused campaign against emigration was pursued, which was sustained ‘from below’ by a diverse group of social actors enacting ideologically driven, mostly symbolic acts of petty resistance. Israel’s strategy and the oscillation between legalism and symbolism illustrate the complex interface between state, society and geographic mobilities and raise several important issues. First, the shift to symbolism is evidence to the limits of state power in regulating mobility. Despite the accompanying delegitimizing discourse, legal practices were unable to stop international mobility completely. ‘Arresting the flows’ by channeling them to heavily bureaucratized, under-surveillance conduits was generally unsuccessful, generating as predicted innovative lines of flight,94 both legal and illegal. Second and related, Israel’s failure to sustain legalism is partly attributed to its illegitimacy in the eyes of broad socio-political segments. The clash between the state’s overt commitment to liberal values and its deployment of highly restrictive practices elicited strong public reactions which could not be ignored for long. And while occasional coercive measures were contemplated during the symbolic era as well, they were systematically rejected for being anti-democratic and counter-productive. Finally, the resort to a differentiating discourse and practices from below is evidence to the role and limits of ‘the social’ in the production and policing of mobilities. While state-led, stripping mobility of its neutral meaning and entrenching it in a web of mostly negative connotations required a careful collaboration with non-state agents. Paradoxically, the popular dissatisfaction with and the shift away from statist practices highlighted the inextricable links between civil society and the state, rendering the former an effective extension of the latter. Acknowledgements I am grateful to Oren Yiftachel and Arnon Golan for their useful feedback on earlier versions of this article. I would also like to thank the Editor and three anonymous reviewers for their critical comments. 92 93 94 Citizen of Israel: Do Not be an Emigrant! Herut, 10 Mar. 1954. See Cohen, From overt rejection (note 4). Deleuze and Guattarri, A Thousand Plateaus (note 15).