The image of the doctors at Sheba Hospital creating a human "wall" to block a person in a wheelchair was shocking. This happened earlier this week, during their protest against the reform within the hospital boundaries. The doctors pushed back the person who was happy in front of them, and encouraged each other to ignore him. When complaints from visitors and other patients continued, they too were repelled with shouts of "shame." The very thought that doctors in the public service were taking patients hostage should have made waves, given the absolute power a doctor has over a patient, and the delicate and exposed human condition of patients. But it passed almost completely quietly. What preoccupied most of the media was the roadblocks near the kibbutzim, which received particularly cruel criticism.
Protests near the kibbutzim began in the north. Initially, it was Kiryat Shmona residents who came out to demonstrate after months of roadblocks on access roads to and within the city. They blocked access roads to several kibbutzim, partly to prove themselves and dispel the appearance that demonstrations against the reform are also taking place in Kiryat Shmona, a distinctly Likud city.
The shock of blocking access to kibbutzim is artificial. The most prominent feature of the protest against the reform is the division into identified collectives (doctors, pilots, reservists). Moreover, the secretariat of the Kibbutz Movement, which has been a partner in the protest since its inception," as it noted in its announcement, called on the kibbutzim to shut down the industrial zones and factories in their territory and to take an active part in "demonstrations at intersections." Kibbutz residents did mark themselves as part of the protest, but the marking came even earlier, when they closed the gates.
It is hard to ignore the background to the demonstrations against the kibbutzim: blatant inequality in the regional councils, which are built on a central (development) city, surrounded by kibbutzim and moshavim rich in resources and land. The tension between the cities and the kibbutzim has been simmering for decades, and for years the residents of the development cities stood alone against the minority that closed its doors. Time after time they were asked to understand, not to sound whiny, to wait for the right time. Except there is no such time. Every Mizrahi protest activity is indeed labeled as revenge, but what is taking revenge on Israeli society today is actually the sin of silencing the voice of the periphery (geographically and socially) – the sin of closed gates.
Closed gates exist not only in kibbutzim. Three days ago, right-wing demonstrators blocked the entrance to the Ramat Aviv neighborhood, which is known for its homogeneity and is identified as opposed to the reform. Within large cities, spatial segregation corresponds almost entirely to class and ethnic divisions. In the Yad Eliyahu neighborhood, for example, where a secular and economically strong population is currently entering, about a week ago, long-time residents planned to block access roads to the neighborhood, before and after the demonstrations on Saturday night. The tension between the old residents and the new ones over the reform is rising, and whether we want to admit it or not, it involves relations between Ashkenazi Mizrahim.
The protest against the kibbutzim is related to the gates closed to the social and geographic periphery. In residences as in the world of culture, in academia as in the public service, in elite units as in the world of law. Such a reality, with widening gaps, would not have been possible without the unsupervised economic and political empowerment of certain strata. A privilege centered in one also requires denying it to the other. You could see it on the last third. At six o'clock in the morning, patrol cars lined up in front of Kibbutz Givat Hashlosha and announced dozens of times in succession: "Disperse the gathering immediately, please evacuate the area." Within minutes, the officers evacuated the few arriving vehicles, seemingly restoring order. But order hasn't really returned. The police can use force and eliminate physical protest, but its essence will not disappear. The protest in front of the kibbutzim is an opportunity for Israeli society to look at the main thing. This is a nonviolent protest with deep layers. You have to look at it like you look at a symbolic gift: small, but of enormous social value.
Wrong? We'll fix it! If you find a mistake in the article, please share with us