Reclaiming <em>Mamlakhtiyut:</em> The Road to an Inclusive Israeli Identity
WHY ISRAEL NOW?Masua Sagiv
Masua Sagiv is Scholar in Residence of the Shalom Hartman Institute based in the San Francisco Bay Area, and the Koret Visiting Assistant Professor of Jewish and Israel Studies at the University of California, Berkeley.
M y vision for the future of Israel is both conservative and novel: conservative because my idea is not new, and novel because it’s never successfully been attempted before. In arguing for an evolution in how Israel conceives of itself, I want to retain what is valuable about Israel’s past—its embrace of democracy and Judaism—and make room for a future that recognizes other religious and national identities, such as Muslim, Christian, and Palestinian—by arguing that the path forward for everyone lies in a revitalized conception of Israeliness. I think the way to do this is by reclaiming the old idea of mamlakhtiyut, the political notion of an inclusive sense of statehood. This would be a sense of statehood, in Israel’s case, in which all of the state’s citizens can participate, regardless of their other identities. Such a sense of statehood would be thick: complex and multi-layered, rooted in a story encompassing members of all faiths and nationalities. In being thick, it would be able to withstand the calls for this or that alternative identity to prevail.
F or many years, while directing and then working for the Menomadin Center for Jewish and Democratic Law in Bar-Ilan University’s Faculty of Law, I promoted the idea of Israel as a Jewish and democratic state. But even though I still strongly support Israel being Jewish and democratic, I’ve come to realize that this ideal has failed us. Understanding why not only illuminates what is lacking in this approach but how we might move forward.
The dual model of a Jewish and democratic state was constitutionally set in Israel’s 1992 Basic Laws, but it is implicit in the 1948 Declaration of Independence and rooted in Zionist thought from both right and left. The intention was simple: Israel is clearly a Jewish state, but it also safeguards democracy for the betterment of all its citizens, Jews and non-Jews alike. Under this legal structure, all Israeli citizens are granted equal political rights as individuals, and at the same time, the Jews are preferred in matters pertaining to their membership in a particular national-cultural-religious group. In practice, this has meant that Jews have a vested right to be Israeli citizens, Jewish culture is prioritized in the public square, and Jewish religion controls some aspects of life in Israel.
In its ideal form, the dualism of Judaism and democracy is balanced, with both playing a crucial component in Israel’s identity and constitution. But in reality, they are consistently unbalanced On one side of its dual identity, the Jewishness of the state functions as a thick identity for Jewish citizens, because to belong to this group is to share in a story that is also the story of the state. On the other side is the identity provided by Israel’s commitment to democracy—the identity of citizenship and having equal political rights. The neutrality of this identity renders it thin, without a meaningful story to ground it.
This imbalance in the relative thickness of identities Israel recognizes has harmful results. First and foremost is that in having Jewishness be the only state-recognized thick identity, the thick identities of non-Jewish citizens are left unrecognized by Israel. The further result is that Israeliness is reduced to Jewishness, with Israel’s Jewish identity essentially holding Israel hostage.
Israel does not have a formal constitution. In its place are the Basic Laws, which are laws that essentially have constitutionally normative status compared to regular legislation. The various Basic Laws that were enacted throughout the years constitute Israel’s lived constitution. In 2018, Israel enacted a law that translates as, “Basic Law: Israel—The Nation State of the Jewish People,” known to most as the Nation State Law. Dealing mainly with symbols and identity, this law does not affect Israeli citizens’ political and legal rights; functionally, it is the equivalent of a preamble to a constitution. But when researchers asked Jewish and non-Jewish citizens both before and after it was enacted how the nation state law affects minority rights in Israel, they found an interesting discrepancy: while Jewish participants said the law has no effect on minority status, non-Jewish participants believed they had lost legal rights and were now subject to legalized discrimination in housing, hiring, and even voting.[i]
The impact of the Nation State Law neatly encapsulates the failure of Israel as a dual Jewish-and -democratic state. In theory, it merely reflects and strengthens Israel’s “Jewish” heritage without infringing on its “democratic” ideals; while non-Jewish citizens of Israel “know” that Israel is the nation state of the Jewish people, this doesn’t affect their individual rights or treatment as equal citizens. However, in reality, Palestinian citizens of Israel believe that the Nation State Law elevates the rights of Jews as a group and prioritizes their group identity while correspondingly depriving Palestinians of their legal rights, because it relegates their Palestinian identity to a second-class status in Israel. Are there any remedies to this situation?
One solution that we can rule out at the outset is “balancing the scales” by offering a present-day state-recognized thick identity to non-Jewish citizens of the state. Recognizing a thick Palestinian identity is unfortunately seen by as disloyalty to the state. On numerous occasions in the past year, public opinion was enflamed when Palestinian Israelis raised the Palestinian flag. For many Israeli Jews, both the flag and Palestinian identity reflect identification with Israel’s enemy and suggest that Israeli Arabs seek to separate themselves from the state. Several incidents at universities culminated in a bill attempting to ban organizations and institutions from raising the Palestinian flag.[ii] Clearly, and sadly, a thick Palestinian identity is unacceptable in today’s Israel.
“The way forward lies in reclaiming the idea of mamlakhtiyut.”
But we must acknowledge that because of its thick Jewish identity, present-day Israeli identity is equally unrecognizable to non-Jewish citizens of the state as an identity they could fully embrace. A few months ago, I asked a group of Jewish college students in America what Israel means to them. Their answers weren’t surprising, but they were revealing. They identified Israel with the Jewish homeland, the Hebrew language, chutzpah, the Kotel, and so on. These Jewish answers illustrate that today, Israel equals Jewish. This perception is not limited to North American Jews. In an extensive survey Shmuel Rosner and Camil Fuchs conducted a few years ago, Israeli Jews also overwhelmingly identified Israeliness with Jewishness. They see themselves first as Jews and only then as Israelis, rendering the identity of the majority of Jewish Israelis as Israeli Jews.[iii]
Not only do Jewish individuals effectively rule out Israeliness as a potential thick identity today, but the Jewish state also does not formally recognize an Israeli identity. According to the registration law of 1965, the state of Israel recognizes (among other aspects) the nationality, religion, and citizenship of its residents. Under the nationality section, alongside rather esoteric options such as Assyrian, Samarian, Karai, Kurdish, and Tatri, the state of Israel allows its citizens to register as Circassian, Druze, Arab, or Jewish nationals. It does not allow the registration of citizens as Palestinians or Israelis. Groups of citizens regularly appeal to the courts to allow them to register as Israeli nationals, and just as regularly (most recently in 2013) the Israeli Supreme Court rejects these demands, stating it only recognizes Jewish nationality and not Israeli nationality.[iv] As a result, Israeli identity continues to be synonymous with being Jewish, and non-Jewish citizens of the state are left without a recognized meaningful identity of their own.
Some claim that to solve the problem of Israeliness being equated with Jewishness, Israel must cease being a Jewish state. But as I indicated above, I want to hold onto Israel’s historical embrace of Judaism (and democracy) rather than call for a revolution that would never even get off the ground. Instead, I want to propose that Israeliness evolve, not into something new and untried, but into something old and familiar. I want to suggest that the way forward lies in reclaiming the idea of mamlakhtiyut and using it to redefine the national identity of “Israeliness.”
The Hebrew word mamlakhtiyut comes from the word mamlakha, meaning kingdom or state. But even though the term sounds ancient, when David Ben-Gurion coined it, he didn’t draw from classic Jewish sources, but from Russian ideas of statehood. Nir Kedar offers this explanation of the term’s origins:
Among the conflict-ridden nations of the Russian Empire, one could not use the terms “Russian” or “national” to express either the public interest realized in the state or its universal character. Russians therefore needed to coin a term from the Russian word for “state” (“государств,” pronounced as “gosudarstvo”) that would make reference to the state and its institutions (“государственный,” pronounced as “gosudarstvenni”) and would convey the universal character and integrative role they played in Russian society. Thus Russia had a mamlakhti library, a mamlakhti museum, and a mamlakhti parliament that would serve all citizens of the empire, regardless of their national identity.[v]
The Russian empire included many nations, and it couldn’t—or wouldn’t—use the terms Russian or national to define state institutions that were meant to serve everyone, and with which everyone was meant to identify. So, they used the term gosudarstvenni, which Ben-Gurion then translated to mamlakhti in Hebrew. As Kedar explains, Ben-Gurion felt the need for the term because he understood that Israeliness could not be equal to Jewishness for two reasons: first, not all Jews were going to live in the State of Israel, and second, a substantial part of the Israeli population would not be Jewish, and the state would be their state, too.[vi]
The word mamlakhtiyut is indeed used in Israeli society today to refer to a sense of statism, but ironically, that statism holds the common meaning of Israeliness today, i.e., Jewishness. But that is not the original meaning of mamlakhtiyut. Kedar argues that Ben-Gurion intended mamlakhtiyut to be a contemporary political ideology that implies “state consciousness,” meaning “society's ability to construct a civilized sovereign polity based on the respect of democracy, law, and civic values.”[vii] In this sense, mamlakhtiyut is a structure that resists fundamentalism and global and local trends of extremism.
To be clear, mamlakhtiyut is, by definition, a thick identity, and constitutional liberal democracy—important as it is—cannot fulfill this condition. Indeed, it is important to note that mamlakhtiyut assumes a public square laden with values and beliefs, some of them competing—a notion that may seem foreign to American eyes. According to the idea of political liberalism developed by political philosopher John Rawls and reflected in today’s liberal perception of the state, fundamental values and beliefs are a private matter and should be excluded from the public square. Since sustaining a stable and functioning society requires cooperation and agreement on rules of conduct, and firmly held ideologies and beliefs cannot be a basis for cooperation and agreement in a religiously and culturally diverse society, political liberalism holds that the public square should be limited to agreed-upon “thin” procedural political rules. While it can be argued that recent United States Supreme Court rulings on highly ideological issues call into question whether political liberalism is actually at work in the U.S., my point is that the Israeli model of society is, and will likely continue to be, constructed differently. There, diverse conceptions of the good—religious, cultural, ethnic, national—are very much competing within the public square. Israeli state and society are based on community rather than the individual. The struggle is not about whether communitarianism will prevail, but which communal perception of the good will prevail.
Mamlakhtiyut then represents a thick state identity, one that all citizens have in common. It does not interfere with citizens’ other particular identities, be they Jewish, Muslim, or Palestinian. But it is not (and cannot) be built on any particular identity that is not (and cannot) be shared by all the state’s members. Simply put, if it’s exclusively Jewish, it can’t be mamlakhti.
An article of this scope is not the place to offer a full-fledged defense of such a concept. Instead, I want to focus on the challenge that this idea of mamlakhtiyut might face if it were to be adopted as a vision for a future Israel. The challenge is not the existence of values and beliefs in the public square, but the exclusion of some values and beliefs and the unmerciful battle against the rest. As Elon Schwartz suggests, the Israeli future is “embedded in our ability to hold on to our own identity while creating bonds through our differences, rather than somehow trying to ignore or transcend them.” It is “the idea that we can build bridges between different people with different viewpoints and still nurture solidarity, finding pragmatic, shared solutions to societal challenges. Not to convert, but to search for common ground. Not independence—interdependence.”[viii]
In the following, I’d like to sketch some cornerstones of what an Israeli mamlakhtiyut might look like, first concentrating on what it would mean for individual citizens if they were united by a single thick identity, and then focusing on what mamlakhtiyut would look like legally, and what policies the state could enact to promote it. Although, sadly, it doesn’t seem that the majority of the state’s legislators are headed in this direction, I would argue nonetheless that the vision is both ethically crucial and partially at work in different levels of society.
In its ideal form, Israeli mamlakhtiyut should be built on a consciousness of a shared destiny. For some members of Israeli society, throughout its different populations, the struggle for Israel is a zero sum, either me or you, game. Whether through the radical ideology of transferring populations or through milder suggestions of exclusion and discrimination, such Israelis refuse to accept others’ identity and belonging. But a growing number of Israelis understand that the diverse groups and individuals in Israel are here to stay. A fascinating illustration of this reality is found in an indirect public dialogue conducted this past summer by two members of the outgoing government: Matan Kahana, Minister of Religious Affairs, and Mansour Abbas, chair of the Special Committee on Arab Society Affairs. Kahana is a conservative, right-wing, religious Zionist, and Abbas is the leader of the United Arab List and defines himself as a religious Muslim Palestinian Arab.
During the summer, Kahana visited a religious Zionist high school in the settlement of Efrat. While speaking with the students about the national conflict with the Palestinians and his choice to cooperate within the government with the United Arab List, he remarked:
If there were a button you could press that would make all the Arabs disappear, that would send them on an express train to Switzerland—may they live amazing lives there, I wish them all the best in the world—I would press that button. There is no such button. Apparently, we were destined to exist here [together] on this land in some form.[ix]
Kahana was sharply criticized for his apparent wish to turn Israel into an ethnically homogenous state, a comment for which he later apologized. But what’s interesting for me about his statement is his realization and acceptance that this wish will not come true and that it is time to move on from a mindset of a temporarily ethnically diverse society to the mindset of a society whose ethnic diversity is permanent. Even more interesting is Abbas’s response to Kahana, which reflects his grasp of how significant this comment is, coming from this Israeli conservative, and then pushes further, arguing for a shift from thinking of Israelis of different ethnicities as having a shared fate to thinking of them as having a shared destiny:
But that’s not genuine tolerance; that’s out of constraint. We need to change our way of thinking and live together in the Holy Land out of choice. I want everyone to reach the conclusion that we need to live together even if we had a button [to send other groups away]. Even if we have a button, we’re choosing not to push it out of choice and acceptance of the other side. In my hand there is a button I have been pressing since I joined the coalition: one of partnership and tolerance, for all parts of society to arrive at a better place of acceptance to promote the common good.[x]
Abbas is not referring to a constitutional change, or to the identity structure of the Jewish state. He is not alluding to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Rather, he is referring to a mindset of shared destiny among the citizens of Israel—Jews and non-Jews alike. In this shared destiny, even though there is deep disagreement about the public good, the different groups in society choose to stick together and reach common ground.
“It’s not enough to internalize the idea that all groups in society are here to stay.”
David Barak-Gorodetsky and Ofer Salzberg offer a way to overcome the destructive nature of the “us or them” dynamic in a diverse and highly fragmented society. It may be shocking, but their suggestion is to embrace and regulate conflict, rather than trying to solve and end it. From a conflict perspective, intra-Israeli dynamics will be transformed “from antagonistic, destructive ones between enemies pursuing total victory to an agonistic conflict between stakeholders who consider each other legitimate adversaries.”[xi] In a mindset of shared destiny, it’s not enough to internalize that all groups in society are here to stay; it also includes the acceptance that no single viewpoint (or the group holding it) will completely win over the state, and the corresponding comfort that comes with knowing that no one viewpoint (or the group holding it) will utterly lose.
For Miriam Peretz, an Israeli educator, bereaved mother, and former candidate for Israel’s presidency—someone who is highly respected among many sectors of Israeli society, and especially in the more traditional and right-wing sectors—this consciousness and understanding is the next step in Zionism. After being awarded the Israel prize for lifetime achievement, Peretz lamented:
I was pained by the separation walls we have built between us. We have to take these separation walls apart—they must become bridges to bring people together…No demographic group has the right to destroy what make other groups unique…Jews and Arabs, Ultra-Orthodox and Secular, Druze and “Tsabari” [native-born] Israelis, long-time citizens and new immigrants. I come from a religious home, where I was taught that we are all human beings born in the image of God, all worthy of being heard and all owed equal opportunities. This is how I want to see my land…Just as in the past, we had a shared vision to build a home for the Jewish people—a dream we were privileged to fulfill—we must now lay out a new vision for ourselves: building a model society in this wonderful land, with all its complexities.[xii]
Peretz celebrates the fact that Jews were privileged to fulfill the sacred mission of Zionism and build a home for the Jewish people in the land of Israel, but the work is not done. Israel and Zionism must pursue a new vision—or, on my reading, reclaim an old one—of building a model society in Israel not just for Jews, but for every social group, without tarnishing what’s unique in their group or asking them to give up their own identity.
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Israeli consciousness and identity can and should be built both from the top down and from the bottom up. Here, I want to focus on the role of the state in forwarding mamlakhtiyut and constructing a thick Israeli identity. In this final section, I’ll suggest some of the steps that should be taken by the state in advancing this goal and acknowledge some of the limits to its fulfillment.
Calendar – The Israeli formal calendar is increasingly diverse; it includes religious and cultural holidays or days of commemoration mainly for Jews, but also for Muslims, Christians, and Druze. The civic and national days of commemoration, however, are still overwhelmingly Jewish: Yom Hashoah ve-Hagevurah (Holocaust and Heroism Remembrance Day), Yom Hazikaron (Memorial Day for the Fallen Soldiers of the Wars of Israel and Victims of Actions of Terrorism), and Independence Day. Even if those commemorated on these days are not Jewish (whether they’ve fallen in war or terrorism or honored as successful Israelis), the narrative of the day represented by Israeli rituals and interpretation is strictly Jewish. The Jewishness of these days is echoed by the fact that they are also commemorated or celebrated by diaspora Jews. Dedication to a meaningful Israeli identity will add to the calendar days or events that illustrate or celebrate a commonality between all Israelis. As a first step, such days could be related to existing commonalities, such as the land, art, foods, and sports. Further down the road, such days could be based on shared values that are yet to emerge.
Symbols – Like the calendar, Israeli state symbols reflect Jewish tradition and Zionist aspiration: the Menorah, tallit, the star of David. The national anthem, “Hatikvah,” speaks solely of a Jewish yearning for the land of Israel. These symbols hold tremendous importance, and I am not suggesting their replacement by the state (however, if in time those symbols do get replaced, it should be through an organic process from the bottom up). For now, I suggest adding a symbol that represents and speaks to all Israelis.
Education – The Israeli education system is built on the separation of the different societal groups: secular Jews, religious Zionist Jews, Haredi Jews, and Arabs each have their own schools. As a premise, all groups are funded by the state, as long as they fulfill certain curricular and technical requirements. The system was built this way to respect parents’ rights to shape their children’s education, and to recognize the wishes of different groups to safeguard and transmit their defining values and identities. As a result, these educational approaches differ widely from one another, and the system both anchors and furthers the fragmentation seen in Israeli society today. In promoting a thick Israeli identity, the state should revise this system with two modest goals in mind: the first would be to require that all streams in the system have a specific number of classes devoted to Israeli culture; the second would be to initiate and support shared programs dedicated to Israeliness across the different types of schools.
These changes will not be easy. Even beyond establishing a shared sense of what constitutes Israeli culture, additional challenges will come from the need to include Haredi schools—which zealously seek to remain separate from other Israeli schools—and Arab schools, some of which will face language barriers.[xiii]
These changes are undoubtedly important, but also might strike some as more aesthetic than substantive in character, so let me offer a deeper dive into a clearly substantive topic to illustrate in more detail what building a thick Israeli identity would look like legally.
In order to build a thick Israeli identity, the state should amend laws that discriminate against and exclude non-Jewish Israelis, both symbolically and legally. The most obvious example is the Nation State Law, which states that,
(a) The Land of Israel is the historical homeland of the Jewish People, in which the State of Israel was established; (b) The State of Israel is the nation state of the Jewish People in which it realizes its natural, cultural, religious, and historical right to self-determination; and (c) The realization of the right to national self-determination in the State of Israel is exclusive to the Jewish People.
When looked at closely, the Nation State Law leaves no room in its story of Israel for non-Jewish Israelis and, as noted above, is widely perceived by non-Jewish Israelis as excluding them from Israeliness. In comparison, the preamble of Croatia’s 1994 constitution demonstrates how to cultivate a shared story and national identity:
Setting forth from these historical facts and the universally accepted principles governing the contemporary world and the inalienable and indivisible, non-transferrable and perpetual right of the Croatian nation to self-determination and state sovereignty, including the inviolable right to secession and association as the fundamental conditions for peace and stability of the international order, the Republic of Croatia is hereby established as the nation state of the Croatian nation and the state of the members of its national minorities: Serbs, Czechs, Slovaks, Italians, Hungarians, Jews, Germans, Austrians, Ukrainians, Rusyns, Bosnians, Slovenians, Montenegrins, Macedonians, Russians, Bulgarians, Poles, Roma, Romanians, Turks, Vlachs, Albanians and others who are its citizens and who are guaranteed equality with citizens of Croatia.
After a bloody and horrible war, and with immense hatred remaining between Croatians and Serbs, Croatia declared itself to be the nation state of the Croatian nation and the state of twenty-two national minorities, placing Serbs first on the list. Croatia is not a multinational state, but a nation state in which the national identity of all the groups is recognized, and national minorities are not seen merely as individuals with equal political rights, but as holders of a legitimate national identity that does not threaten the Croatian nation state.
Applying a similar arrangement to the Israeli Nation State Law would not, in and of itself, foster a thick Israeli identity, but recognizing the legitimacy of particular identities other than (orthodox) Jewishness would be a first step. Only when non-Jews feel that their particular identities are seen and accepted in Israel, will they be able to participate in cultivating a shared identity.
For this reason, the State of Israel should also amend the citizenship reunification law. Usually, liberal democracies allow the naturalization of a non-citizen who marries a citizen, provided that the marriage is deemed authentic. This is also the case in Israel, unless the non-citizen is from Gaza or the West Bank (there are some exceptions, based on age or humanitarian cases). The order was enacted not for racist but for security reasons, yet the effects were seen not only as discrimination among Israelis, but also as a signal to Palestinians: you are not one people with your own people, you won’t be able to bring your spouse to live with you, but you are also not one people with us Israelis. You are neither here nor there. For the aforementioned security reasons, amending this law should not result in its annulment but in flipping its default, so that automatic naturalization can be revoked due to security reasons, rather than withheld de facto.
At its core, the idea of mamlakhtiyut encourages an evolution in the meaning of Israeliness, rather than a revolution. The suggestions offered above do not change the definition of Israel as a Jewish state. The Law of Return will still apply, and Judaism will still be prevalent in the public square in Israel. A thick Israeli identity will also not solve (at least not directly or immediately) the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. It also doesn’t mean the end of struggles for change within particular groups. But it does promise to make Israel a better place for all its citizens, even if it cannot be a perfect place for all of them. A viable Israeli identity is crucial to the welfare and prosperity of all Israelis, holding the potential to create bridges of understanding between Jews and Palestinians.
The Jewish and democratic model in Israel is failing not because Israel shouldn’t be a Jewish and democratic state, but because it’s not enough for it to be Jewish and democratic. Maintaining a positive Jewish identity in Israel requires that it not be tightly bound to an Israeli identity. Instead, Israel must cultivate an independent Israeli identity, one that can embrace the diversity of identities held by its citizens and can be embraced by them.
This article appears in Sources, Fall 2022.
Notes
[i] Netta Barak-Corren, Noam Gidron, and Yuval Feldman, “Majority Nationalism Laws and the Equal Protection of Minorities: Experimental and Observational Evidence from Israel,” (Hebrew University of Jerusalem Legal Research Paper No. 21-13, Bar Ilan University Faculty of Law Research Paper No. 21-14), March 31, 2021.
[ii] Afif Abu Much, “Palestinian Flag Raises Controversy in Israeli Universities,” Al-Monitor, June 6, 2022.
[iii] Shmuel Rosner and Camil Fuchs, #IsraeliJudaism: Portrait of a Cultural Revolution (Jewish People Policy Institute, 2019).
[iv] “Ornan v. Ministry of Internal Affairs,” CA 8573/08 (2013) [Isr.], “Tamarin v. The State of Israel,” CA 630/70, PD [Piskei Din—Israeli Court], 26(1) 197 (1972) [Isr.],
[v] Nir Kedar, “On Mamlakhtiyut,” in Mamlakhtiyut in the 21st Century, ed. Yedidiah Stern (2021), 71.
[vi] ibid.
[vii] Nir Kedar, “Ben-Gurion’s Mamlakhtiyut: Etymological and Theoretical Roots,” Israel Studies 7, No. 3 (2002).
[viii] Eilon Schwartz, “Deep Diversity, the Common Good, and the Israeli Future,” Sapir (Autumn 2021).
[ix] Michael Bachner, “Yamina’s Kahana Says He’d Expel All Arabs, but Admits They’re Here to Stay, Times of Israel, June 14, 2022.
[x] Michael Bachner, “Abbas to Kahana: Accepting Coexistence Out of Necessity Isn’t Genuine Tolerance,” Times of Israel, June 15, 2022.
[xi] David Barak-Gorodetsky and Ofer Zalzberg, “Israel’s Secular-Religious Cleavage: Postsecular Genealogies and Remedies”, in Elie Friedman, Michal Neubauer-Shani. and Paul Scham, eds, Polarization and Consensus-Building in Israel: The Center Cannot Hold (New York: Routledge Academic Press, forthcoming).
The authors here are referring to the secular-religious divide in Israel, but the principles are the same.
[xii] Miriam Peretz, “Interview with Alona Peled,” Branza News (transl. from Hebrew by Levi Morrow), (2021).
[xiii] For an example of such a program, see https://www.biu.ac.il/en/article/9774.
