A tent camp in the middle of Tel Aviv is Israel’s answer to the ‘Arab Spring.’ 

Demonstrators pitching their tents Thursday night on Tel Aviv’s Rothschild Boulevard. (Image courtesy of ActiveStills)

Even before the first tent went up on Rothschild Boulevard last Thursday night, the authorities had already decided it was bad news. That morning, someone  in the municipality had gotten wind of plans to pitch a “tent city” in the middle of one the city’s most affluent streets as part of a protest against the skyrocketing cost of housing in Tel Aviv, and decided to nip it in the bud.

The chances for negative publicity were high, as the activists were vowing not to leave until real solutions to the city’s housing crunch were found. As city hall had nothing real to offer them, the police were instructed to rescind the demonstrations’ permit, which had already been issued.

The protesters insisted they would show up with tents in any case. Upon the intervention of deputy mayor Assaf Zamir, whose party purports to represent the interests of the city’s young adults, the permit was reinstated – but that didn’t stop protestors from showering both Zamir and mayor Ron Huldai with beer, water and eggs when they dropped by the encampment later that evening for a visit.

The weirdness of that encounter pretty much set the tone for everything that was to follow. Huldai, according to protesters’ accounts, began by lecturing the demonstrators on the proper way to conjugate the Hebrew verb “to rent,” before launching into a self-satisfied rant about how the Tel Aviv Municipality is pioneering the art and science of creating affordable housing in Israel. He concluded with his usual refrain, which he traditionally uses to justify his inaction across a range of fields: ain li samchuyot – literally, I lack the authority. Or, in a freer translation – blame the government.

The protesters, to their credit, weren’t buying it. Flush with the excitement of a nascent social movement, which already then seemed destined to echo far and wide (yesterday it landed on the august pages of the Guardian), and a bit insulted by the mayor’s condescension, the demonstrators ran him out of the makeshift camp, while spraying him with various beverages and chanting “a mayor for the rich” as he retreated.

Wet, frustrated, and a bit shocked, the aging Huldai retreated to the passenger seat of his car, where he was forced to wait impatiently while his driver attempted to remove a protester who had planted his behind on the hood of the automobile and refused to budge.

The normally media-shy Huldai would later launch an aggressive rearguard media offensive, expressing reserved support for the protesters and their cause, which he deemed “legitimate,” while requesting that they keep public order and hygiene. That night, he wrote on his Twitter feed: “I came to Rothschild Boulevard tonight to speak with the demonstrators, but it became clear to me that they don’t want to listen.”

Politicians discover the tent camp

Huldai’s prognosis was only half correct – they did indeed want to listen, but only if the speaker actually had something to say. Over the next few days, as the camp became the epicenter of a voracious media circus, numerous politicians attempted to mollify the demonstrators with various and sundry forms of cheap populism, and most were driven away in contempt.

One such lawmaker, a member of the ruling Likud party, seemed genuinely surprised at the general refusal of the young crowd to kiss her rear end, at one point shouting at a demonstrator in front of news cameras: “What, are you a retard?!” She stalked off, fuming, and later told the media that she had encountered a crazed mob of radical leftist agitators. The demonstrators, for their part, responded by creating a musical remix of the memorable moment and posting it on YouTube.

Other politicians, however, mainly from the left-wing opposition, were warmly welcomed into the fold, as were any number of sympathetic passers-by, some of whom came bearing food, supplies, advice and even prayers.

The Prime Minister, for his part, offered what he might have considered a sincere gesture, encouraging the demonstrators to “come to Jerusalem and help the government pass its real estate reforms.” The reforms in question were a package of bureaucracy-busting, supply-side, neoliberal proposals so stale and controversial that they have even encountered substantial push-back in  the Knesset (the same Knesset which routinely passes racist and obnoxious laws without skipping a beat, such as the law passed last week which criminalizes calls to boycott the settlements).

The place quickly acquired a carnival atmosphere. At one point on Friday night, tent-dwellers were lining up to bellow off-key renditions of protest classics like Tracy Chapman’s Talkin’ ‘bout a Revolution and Madness’ Our House (“Our house, in the middle of the street”) into the microphone of a karaoke machine that someone had set up inside the main tent.

The media discovers the tent camp

However, the demonstrators’ apparent inexperience in dealing with the media and the lack of a clear list of demands allowed all sorts of ill-wishers to manipulate their image and misrepresent their aims.

It wasn’t long before grumpy commentators – almost uniformly old, male, white and privileged – began to describe them as spoiled children, whining about wanting to live in the center of town but unwilling to work hard enough to pay for it. Senior politicians, including the Housing Minister (who hails from the ultra-religious Shas party), jumped on the bandwagon, eager to delegitimize what they saw as a potential threat to their political hegemony.

More gracious commentators offered them friendly advice, telling the demonstrators to go live somewhere where they could actually afford to pay the rent, say, the Negev desert, or maybe in the settlements.

By Sunday, the fourth day of the protest, pictures of the tent camp (which had still not reached more than a few dozen tents) were on the front pages of all the newspapers, and numerous copycat demonstrations were said to be in the works in towns and colleges across the country.

On the whole, journalists seem to have reacted to the whole thing with unprecedented enthusiasm – possibly due to being pleasantly surprised at the emergence of such a dynamic and ongoing news story in the midst of the languid summer, or perhaps out of genuine excitement that, for the first time in years, an authentic protest movement seemed to be taking shape, partially inspired by our neighbors in Egypt, Jordan and Syria, as well as more recent protests in Spain.

The media’s reaction was, of course, not uniform. While Haaretz seemed to mostly support the protestors, the tabloid dailies offered sensationalized headlines and mixed analyses. A Jerusalem Post editorial applauded the emergence of a new kind of consumer protest movement, sort of a cottage cheese boycott 2.0, and the grassroots vibe which seemed to bridge the gaping abyss between left and right, while also giving the government kudos for supposedly being on track to solve the problems.

The truth, however, is that no one in power – not the mayor, not Bibi, not the Housing Ministry and certainly not Kadima (which did zero for the cause while in office, and has continued to do zero in the opposition) – have as yet taken any real steps to solve the housing crisis. They have all clearly sinned, and instead of trying to cover up that fact, they should repent, and fast, so that they can begin to move past their usual rancor and ineptitude and find a credible way to begin to deliver real solutions to the problem.

Of these there are quite a few of these, a good number of them quite doable, and many of them generally politically palatable (to the people and our saner elected representatives, though not necessarily to the PM and members of his ultra-right, neoliberal clique).

Potential solutions to the housing crisis

First, an affordable housing law must to be passed right away. This could be part of the ongoing effort to rewrite Israel’s planning law, or a stand-along law. In any case, it must grant municipalities the legal authority to formulate their own affordable housing policies. Until that happens, affordable housing programs that have already begun to take shape in a handful of Israeli cities will remain frozen, and in some cases be reversed.

Second, the government needs to resurrect its public housing programs. What was once a formidable system for housing the under-privileged (while “affordable housing” generally relates to apartments for the middle class, “public housing” refers to subsidized housing for the poor) has gradually been allowed to disintegrate. In Israel of 2011, poor families receive pitiful housing vouchers which barely allow them to live in the country’s worst ghettos, while no new public housing stock has been built in two decades, and existing stock is sold off to developers (who are encouraged by the authorities to evict any residents still living in the properties).

As Technion researcher (and, full disclosure, a former professor of mine) Dr. Emily Silverman pointed out this week in an op-ed, the well-timed departure of a number of veteran Housing Ministry officials from key positions opens up the possibility that new blood in the ministry could bring about a new spirit of action and initiative. However, this can only happen if the government supports and facilitates such a process.

Also, the formulation of a “right to housing” law would certainly help improve the situation by forcing the government to recognize its responsibility to guarantee that it citizens are able to find proper housing at affordable prices.

What city hall can do 

On the local level, the Tel Aviv Municipality needs to seriously up its game. Much has been written on this blog about the new master plan being advanced for the city. Scandalously, that plan does not include a chapter on affordable housing, despite city hall’s stated enthusiasm for the subject (the official excuse is that the lack of affordable housing legislation leaves the municipality without the  legal authority to promote affordable housing – or, in other words, ain li samchuyot).

Even if it can’t be implemented right away because of government malfeasance, affordable housing must be included in the master plan, as city council members have repeatedly insisted, both as a clear statement of intent and as a means of pressuring the government to pass the necessary legislation. City hall’s decision to roll over in resignation, instead of fighting for its rights, is a pathetic failure of leadership.

Even more disturbing is another fact which came to light recently during a discussion of the new master plan. Uniquely among Israeli cities, the Tel Aviv Municipality actually holds a significant amount of city-owned land and properties, which could easily be converted into residential buildings containing small apartments and affordable units. However, it turns out that neither the municipal planning teams nor members of the city council have been allowed full access to information about the scope and location of these properties.

The reason, apparently, is that a single municipal bureaucrat has for years treated the municipal properties department as his own private fiefdom, doling out information only to the extent that he sees fit. This is certainly not in accordance with the rules of good government, and it is mayor Ron Huldai’s duty to root out such cases of dictatorial behavior among city officials inside his administration.

The master plan, by the way, will not significantly expand the supply of housing (affordable or otherwise) in the city over the next couple of decades. Instead, planners have chosen to rezone land for millions of square meters of new office buildings (which bring in much higher city taxes and make much fewer demands on the municipality, in terms of things like new schools, community centers, etc.). Is this the way to plan for the future in a city that is already experiencing a severe housing crunch?

Talking about a revolution?

These ideas are, of course, just the tip of the iceberg. Affordable housing policy does not require reinventing the wheel. A variety of policies exist, and they are certainly known to decision-makers, local as well as national. International precedents exist in abundance, and working proposals continue to be put forward on a regular basis by the Coalition for Affordable Housing in Israel and, on the Tel Aviv level, by the municipal opposition, which this week released a well-thought-out proposal detailing simple steps city hall could take to alleviate the housing shortage in the near term.

Ones hopes that the various groups will manage to sit down together and kick out an orderly list of demands, just as the young protesters camping out in Cairo’s Tahrir Square did (and continue to do). If such a scenario actually takes shape, then perhaps the enthusiasm of the media and activist community will be validated, and Israel might just experience a little taste of the revolutionary spirit blowing through the Middle East these days.

Meanwhile, the tent camp on Rothschild Boulevard is looking more and more revolutionary. Last night, the tents numbered close to a hundred, the people in the thousands, and celebrities, politicians and reporters were eagerly rubbing shoulders with people playing music, projecting movies on makeshift screens, reclining on couches, playing with their children and distributing meals to demonstrators.

Unusually for Israel, no uniformed security forces whatsoever were present – no police, no soldiers, no border policemen, no unmarked cops on motorcycles. The lack of law enforcement seemed to provide space for a refreshingly relaxed and open atmosphere, as, one after another, young people took advantage of a Hyde Park-style microphone to share their thoughts about the protest and what form it needed to take. Passers-by beeped and shouted out their solidarity with the cause, as organizers huddled over laptops used Facebook and Twitter to blast their message out into the world.

One final thought. The positive vibes and open atmosphere of the protest camp seem to already have succeeded in accomplishing one thing: persuading Israelis to discard the automatic cynicism which characterizes so much of life in Israel and is seen by many as one of the primary obstacles to real political change here.

Dropping this cynicism is perhaps the Israeli equivalent to what the young revolutionaries in Arab countries have described as “losing their fear,” a spontaneous mental process in which people shed, overnight, decades of ingrained mental patterns and begin to see their predicament more clearly.

If this is indeed the case, then perhaps there is hope.