Wednesday, August 22, 2001 Elul 3, 5761Israel Time:
16:22 (GMT+3)
Ha'aretz - Internet Edition
Westward ho!
Emigration has become the hottest topic of discussion in
many Israeli households during the past few months -
especially among young people, newly discharged soldiers
and university graduates. The race for a foreign
passport, a work permit and real estate abroad is at its
height. Conversations with Israelis who want to leave
...
By Uriya Shavit
The time is 8:30 on a Thursday evening. The place is an
office building on Daniel Frisch Street in Tel Aviv.
About 30 Israelis have arrived to hear a lecture,
accompanied by slides and a video. Avi Idelman, the
secretary-general of the Mondragon cooperative
association, makes them an offer they have a hard time
refusing: Pay the shekel equivalent of $4,500 and join
the association, which entitles you to three dunams
(three-quarters of an acre) of land in Vanuatu, a group
of islands in the southwest Pacific, formerly the New
Hebrides.
Some 2,000 families have joined the association to date.
Members are recruited by friends who have already
joined, and the new members, in turn, get others to sign
up. The association has leased 800,000 dunams of land in
Vanuatu for a period of 150 years and intends to turn
the land into an economic asset for its members.
"We will concentrate on establishing a free-trade zone,
and there will be high-tech, finance, advanced
agriculture," Idelman tells the audience. "I am betting
that the land value will rise. We will help open
consulates of Vanuatu around the world. We have an
option to purchase 49 percent of Air Vanuatu. We will
also focus on tourism. A lot of tourists will come from
Israel: Your friends will come to see how we've
succeeded, and those who hate you, will come to see how
we've failed."
Most of those in the room have never heard of Vanuatu,
which was under French-British administration before
being granted independence in 1980. Idelman tries to
persuade his listeners that the tiny country, population
180,000, is the Promised Land. And it's also almost
close to home: no more than a seven-hour flight from
Japan, two and a half hours from Australia, and closer
to Petah Tikva than, for example, the Pacific
island-nation of Kiribati.
Idelman, an affable fellow, wears a white shirt with a
high collar, like a priest. He believes wholeheartedly
that the dream is practical. He uses a simple method for
marketing Vanuatu to Israelis: He explains that it's not
Israel.
"There is no poverty and no crime, the sanitation is
amazing," he exclaims. "I lived in New York, but the
best restaurant I ever ate in is in Vanuatu. Vanuatu is
considered the third most important tax haven in the
world. It's an island that rose from the water, with no
snakes and no scorpions. It doesn't have two nations
that are fighting each other."
The video shows Vanuatu in all its splendor: ships sail
across white waves in blue water, young women tread
tranquilly across a virgin beach, horses with manes
flying, cantor nobly between wooden huts. Not all those
present are impressed, but some are captivated and ask
for more details.
Eran Even Shushan, 30, wants to know how many residences
he can build on the plot he will receive. "And another
question: If I am a member of the association, and I
want my parents or my girlfriend to come to Vanuatu to
live and work, is that legal?"
Idelman's replies are good enough for Even Shushan. He
works in an industrial plant and has a "totally ordinary
salary," but at the end of the evening, he signs a
promissory note to pay $4,500 in order to join the
association. He is not the only one. Even Shushan says
his decision was an obvious one from the beginning.
"My intuition told me to go for it. It's not such a
large investment. I have the feeling there is positive
energy in Vanuatu. Personally, I am more interested in
the economic possibilities than in the possibility of
living in Vanuatu. But I'm glad the option exists. An
option is a good thing. People with options are a lot
happier than people without options."
Overseas options are what a great many Israelis are
looking for this summer. The combination of the volatile
security situation and the worsening economic slowdown
is causing them to look for insurance policies across
the sea - passports, work permits, real estate.
This extensive activity takes place, for the most part,
far from the spotlight of publicity. More than two
decades after Yitzhak Rabin disparaged emigrants as
"dropping[s] out of parasites," emigration is still a
major taboo in Israeli society. Israelis who are
thinking about leaving the country don't usually think
out loud.
Fear and helplessness
Who are the people involved? According to a survey
conducted for Ha'aretz Magazine by the Mutagim Agency,
14 percent of the country's adult Jewish population have
considered the possibility in the past few months. The
potential emigrants are united neither by political
preferences nor geographic location. What they do have
in common is their young age: Only 2 percent of Israelis
above the age of 65, and only 8 percent of Israelis
between the ages of 45 and 54, have contemplated
emigration in recent months. The critical mass of those
displaying an interest in leaving the country are in the
28-34 age bracket: 28 percent of them have considered
the possibility in the past few months.
These are Israelis at the beginning of their
professional career, on the brink of starting a family,
or the parents of small children. They bear the main
burden of reserve duty, find it hard to buy a home or to
meet mortgage payments, and are also well acquainted
with many of the world's remote locales. By chance or
not, they are also the commodity most sought-after by
the major countries of immigration, which prefer (if at
all) young people.
Since the start of the Intifada, journalist Ben Zion
Citrin, who writes for Ha'aretz, has found himself in
greater demand than ever before. An expert on emigration
and the author of the book "All the Ways to Obtain a
Second Passport," he has had his hands full in recent
months. Those who contact him, he says, don't come out
with a declaration that they are going to leave
immediately, but are interested in the peace of mind
that a second passport affords.
"They say that life in Israel has become dangerous. They
are afraid of a large-scale war, afraid for the fate of
their children. They want to be sure that if the Saigon
story repeats itself here, they will be able to leave on
the last helicopter. What characterizes all of them is
panic, fear, hysteria, a sense of helplessness and
anxiety. The fear of what tomorrow will bring.
"What broke them?" asks Citrin. "They are rational
people who have lost hope. They think there is no longer
a chance of peace. These people are the salt of the
earth. They do military service and then they do reserve
duty. When they ask me about the possibilities of
emigrating, they do so with a sense of shame. Some of
them tell me their parents are Holocaust survivors, they
love the country, but they can't go on."
The most sought-after passports, Citrin says, are
American, Canadian and Australian. The last two are
preferred, because Canada and Australia are more willing
to take new immigrants than other countries. Citrin
himself tells those who contact him not to put all their
eggs in one basket.
"I tell worried people that the solution is not the
passport but a series of actions in which they `spread
the eggs around.' In other words, to invest in one
country, get a resident's status in another country, and
buy a house in a third country. If the problem is fear
of what will happen, don't put all your eggs in New
York. Spreading yourself out is a smarter move."
The Canadian Embassy in Tel Aviv has seen a sharp rise
in the number of Israelis requesting visas for permanent
residency since the start of the Intifada nearly 11
months ago. Between January and October 2000, the
embassy got about a hundred requests a month; since
October, the number has risen to 150. Some 90 percent of
those applying are Israelis who immigrated from the
former Soviet Union in the past 10 years; 6 percent are
Palestinians from the territories; and only 4 percent
are veteran Israelis.
According to unofficial data, immigrants from the former
Soviet Union also constitute the majority of visa
applicants in the United States Embassy.
Psychological security
Zvi Ken-Tor is a partner in Schwartz-Ken-Tor, the
biggest firm in Israel for obtaining overseas work
permits.
"In the past few months," he reports, "there has been an
increase of about 10 percent in the number of private
individuals contacting us and wanting to examine the
possibility of working abroad."
However, Ken-Tor adds, most of them will not find work
overseas and will remain in Israel: "We have nothing to
offer these people. These days, even if you have
connections in the U.S., even if you are in high-tech,
there is no guarantee that you will find work there,"
Ken-Tor says. "There is a wave of dismissals in the U.S.
just like here. I would say that fewer Israelis will
leave this year for an extended stay there than in 2000
- about 5,000 or 6,000 this year, compared to 8,000 last
year. The direct reason for this decline is the crisis
in the Nasdaq."
Shlomo Manor, who is in charge of the North America
division of Re/Max real estate, says that the security
and economic situation in Israel has generated a lot of
interest in the purchase of real estate abroad.
"The increase is on the order of 30 percent as compared
to last year. People want a fifth wheel, like for a car.
An apartment abroad gives them psychological security.
Their thinking is that if they have property abroad,
they will have a place to escape to in a case like the
Gulf War," he explains.
The people in contact with Manor are mainly
professionals from affluent areas in Tel Aviv, Ramat
Hasharon, Kfar Sava and the Denya and Ahuza
neighborhoods of Haifa.
What are the preferred locations overseas?
Manor: "In Canada, it's Toronto. Real- estate prices
there are 40 percent below what they were in 1993.
Toronto is a large business and commercial center and
the prices there are going to recover. As always, there
is a demand for Manhattan, even though the prices there
are high. Florida is also in high demand. In Europe,
Hungary and the Czech Republic are in demand, mainly
because they are soon going to become part of the
European Union. In Spain, there is a demand for
apartments on the Costa del Sol, and in France, people
are looking for flats in the St. Germain section of
Paris."
What's important for Israelis in buying a place abroad?
"The main thing is its salability. They want a house of
200 square meters made not of wood but of blocks - the
more concrete and iron the better - and preferably with
a garden and a swimming pool. The swimming pool: That's
the big dream. There are thousands of people who show an
interest, but only a few of them will actually buy a
dwelling abroad. If we get a hundred people to one of
our meetings, maybe 20 will return for a second meeting
and maybe five will buy an apartment. The decision is
made by both spouses, so the decision-making process
takes a long time.
"It's very pleasant to attend a meeting [focusing on]
overseas real estate offers in a period like the
present: It doesn't cost money, the hall is
air-conditioned, you get coffee and cake. It's a nice,
relaxing way to spend time, to play with the possibility
of being a resident abroad."
Life as usual
After the coming season of Jewish holidays, Karen
Shapira, 29, will leave her rented flat in Tel Aviv and
return to Chicago. She immigrated to Israel about six
years ago. Her motive back then: Zionism.
The daughter of Romanian parents who moved from Israel
to the United States, Shapira fell in love with the
country: "I had a passion to live in Israel. I arrived
two weeks before they murdered Rabin. I found warm
people, parties, fun, friends who came here. In the
U.S., we're a minority. When you grow up as part of a
minority, you always have to ask yourself questions. In
Israel, I could feel comfortable with my identity."
Shapira is leaving because of a combination of two
reasons. She lost her job - and her sense of personal
security. She has a master's degree in business
administration and in the past few years, worked in
international marketing at a communications company.
"Four months ago, the company went bankrupt and I was
fired. Since then, I haven't been able to find a job,"
she relates. "I tried everything. Placement companies,
head-hunting, the want ads, the Internet. Nothing
helped. There's no work. I have an MBA, I'm ready to do
vocational retraining. What does a person have to do to
find work here?
"But that's only part of the problem. The other part of
the problem is the security situation. We've reached a
situation where you can't even sit in a coffee shop. So
it's impossible even to be unemployed. There is pressure
in the air all the time, the atmosphere is bad."
It's easier for new immigrants to leave than it is for
veteran Israelis. To begin with, many of them still have
a foreign passport. Second, while veteran Israelis are
under pressure from family and friends to stay, new
immigrants have families in their home country who
pressure them to come back.
Shai Rahat, sales manager in the division of personal
items in Global Vision, a shipping firm, says that the
past few months have seen an increase in the number of
new immigrants from English-speaking countries who are
leaving the country.
"This summer, I encountered dozens of families of
veteran Israelis, and hundreds of families of new
immigrants, who left the country. The sabras reach a
decision to leave after a process. They tell me that the
ones who leave are sane and those who stay behind are
the crazy ones. They have been considering the option
for five years; Zionism hasn't been part of the picture
for a long time.
"For the English-speaking new immigrants, Zionism plays
an important role. They believe in the Zionist idea, and
very often they came here after giving up good jobs, and
they would like to stay in the country. But when a bomb
goes off under their nose, they break. They tell me that
after terrorist attacks come the phone calls from their
parents in the home country - `What are you doing in
Israel? When are you coming home?'"
Karen Shapira says that the latest wave of terrorist
bombings has affected her more than the previous ones:
"I remember the day of the attack in the Apropos
restaurant [in Tel Aviv] four years ago. That was 300
meters from my apartment; I was really close to the
place. When I got home I could hear the ambulances. It
was 2:30 in the afternoon. In the U.S., it was six in
the morning. I called my mother and told her, `I'm sorry
to wake you up, I just wanted to tell you I'm alive.'
But when that happened, there was still hope. People
thought that one day there might be peace. Now the
feeling is that things aren't going to move. I find it
hard to accept the approach that has developed in Israel
about the attacks."
What do you mean?
Shapira: "When the attack at the Dolphinarium happened,
I was at a party in Ramat Hahayal. People watched the
news and went on with the party. A fatalistic approach
has developed here, an approach of `seize the day.' In
the States, despite the economic crunch, I'll find work.
You can't compare the U.S. to Israel; it's like apples
and oranges. They have 50 states, and all there is here
is Gush Dan" - referring to metropolitan Tel Aviv.
Born to be emigrants
There is really no way to know how many Israelis who
contemplated the idea of leaving the country during the
past year have actually realized, or intend to realize,
their intention. The picture one gets from the embassies
is confusing. Some embassies report a considerable
increase in the number of Israelis who want to obtain a
passport and a permanent residency visa (in addition to
the Canadian Embassy, there has been a significant surge
of 12 percent in the British Embassy in the number of
applications for passports in 2001 as compared with
2000). Other embassies, though, say they have not
noticed any change (including the embassy of the United
States - the number-one emigration destination of
Israelis - and the embassy of the Netherlands, another
popular country).
The data from shipping companies are also along the same
lines: Some report a large increase in orders, others
say the situation is unchanged, still others say there
has been a decrease in orders to move household effects
abroad.
What is clear is that the increase in the number of
Israelis going abroad since the start of the Intifada
balances out the number of Israelis who are sent abroad
by their employer, particularly in the high-tech sphere.
It is also clear that the Israelis who are leaving the
country have liberated themselves from the stigma of
being a yored - literally, "one who goes down," the
opposite of oleh, or "one who goes up," which is the
state's preferred term for "immigrant" (hence aliyah, or
"immigration") - that was once derisively hurled at
emigrants. In a world where flights out of the country
are available and cheap, and moving from one land to
another for employment is a routine matter, leaving is
not necessarily forever.
Eran Dranger is the owner and CEO of Oceanus, one of the
largest international shipping companies in Israel. The
word "yeridah" (literally, "going down"), he says, has
been erased from the lexicon of his clients. Israelis
who go abroad for long stretches of time are these days
"relocating" or "looking for opportunities."
"There is no Israeli who will tell you, `I am going and
not coming back,' as they used to say in the past,"
Dranger says. "The Israeli sees the trip as an
opportunity, not an admission of failure. Going abroad
is said to be for a few years, even if in some cases it
becomes a lifelong stay, either because of family
reasons - marriage, establishing a family - or for
economic reasons, such as finding a job that is hard to
abandon."
The Ha'aretz Magazine survey shows that 43 percent of
the Israelis who have had thoughts of leaving in the
past few months prefer the United States, 18 percent
have set their sights on Australia, 14 percent on
Europe, 5 percent on Canada and 2 percent on Britain.
The most important consideration for an Israeli in a
foreign country is quality of life, Dranger says.
"The West Coast of the U.S. is the number-one preferred
location, mainly because of the large Jewish and Israeli
population there. In the past year, Australia has also
become a preferred destination: There is a warm Jewish
community there, they like Israelis and the cost of
living is reasonable."
What do Israelis take with them when they go abroad?
Dranger: "If they are being sent by their employer, they
take everything - furniture, carpets, paintings, kitchen
utensils. The difference is that American and European
companies don't pay for shipping, whereas Israeli
companies do - but the Israeli companies don't pay for
storage, so for Israelis who are sent abroad by their
place of work, it's worth taking whatever they can.
"Electrical appliances are usually given to relatives,
because apartments abroad usually come equipped with
them, at least in part. The average worth of the
household items that Israelis ship abroad is $25,000.
Among the high-tech people, the contents of the
container tend to have a conservative character. The
furniture of Israelis is very functional, and they have
relatively few art objects or collections."
What kind of emigrants do they make?
"Israelis are considered people who adapt to new
surroundings with record speed. They learn new languages
quickly, they are mobile, and there is an Israeli
community in every large Western city that helps them
acclimatize. The Israelis are migrants in their souls."
Surrender to terrorism
At some point in the next few months, after he finds a
buyer for his apartment in the Sharon region, Amos
Sahar, 35, a tour guide, will leave Israel with his wife
and infant son.
"I admit it without reservations: I have surrendered to
terrorism," he says. "I'm not proud of it, I'm not
flaunting it, but there is no way to tell us to stay
here if there is no way to guarantee our lives. Israel
is one possibility among many in the world. I want to
give my family the maximum happiness possible."
Sahar published his subversive approach on the Internet
(on Ynet) immediately after the terrorist attack in June
at the Dolphinarium in Tel Aviv. His statement drew
hundreds of responses, which made it possible to get a
grasp of the public mood. Most of those who sent
messages attacked Sahar ferociously.
"In battle, I would be allowed to shoot you in the
back," Oron, from Tel Aviv, wrote. "As long as you are a
Jew, you won't have anywhere to escape to," Eyal, from
Jerusalem, asserted. "Jewish history is filled with
losers and cowards like you, from Josephus all the way
to the yordim in Los Angeles, who have become car
cleaners. Where do you think you will go? To the Bronx?
Or maybe to France, to the neo-Nazis?"
Some, though, hiding under the anonymity of the Web,
said they agreed with Sahar.
"I'm with you," wrote Dan. "I'm leaving, too," Keren
stated. "True, sad and so true," Arik, from Modi'in,
commented. "Unfortunately, I understand you," Alon, from
Kfar Sava, wrote. "At last someone is saying and doing
what the majority want but are afraid to say or do,"
Yoni, from Rehovot, wrote. "Where is your house and how
much do you want for it?" asked a practical writer, who
did not identify himself.
In the Ha'aretz Magazine survey, only a minority of
respondents - 37 percent - said they took a negative or
very negative approach to "Israelis who are leaving the
country at this time." Sixteen percent said their
attitude to the current crop of emigrants is "positive
or very positive," and 43 percent said they were
indifferent.
Nevertheless, the subject of emigration remains a
sensitive issue. It wasn't difficult to find Israelis
who serve in the army and love the homeland, but who
spoke in the same vein as Amos Sahar, or even more
sharply - but it was impossible to persuade them to
speak on the record. They were afraid of what their
parents, their friends, and their colleagues at work
would say. In many homes, emigration is an issue in
sharp dispute between husband and wife. Any unnecessary
remark can fan the flames.
A small, boring place
Sahar says that the reactions to his article in his
circle of friends were not aggressive: "They accepted it
with understanding. It didn't lead to a crisis with any
of them. I hate to be pompous, but these people are the
salt of the earth, people who contribute a lot - reserve
duty, regular army, career army. They all think there is
nowhere to go from here. The problem is that for 53
years, the state hasn't been able to guarantee our
security. That is the reason for leaving. The feeling is
of a dead end. I am simply looking after the future of
my little boy, who is just an infant."
Maybe you should stay and try to change the situation.
Sahar: "The solution is to leave, not to change the
government. It's hard for me to say this, but we are
leading our lives here like zombies. We walk on the
street and someone could blow himself up and blow us up
with him into thousands of chunks of flesh. I don't see
any prospect for some sort of great change. My feeling -
and not only my feeling, but my rational analysis - is
that there is no way to ensure people's lives here."
Your friends, the landscape, the language - won't you
miss them?
"I know every centimeter on the trails of the hills in
this country, every plant. I could tell you all the
folklore you want about the history of the Land of
Israel. But by the same token, I can love the landscape
somewhere else. My basic assumption is that everything
we swallowed here from the moment we were born, whether
it's in the Scouts or in a left-wing youth movement, is
no more rooted than what exists in other places. I don't
understand how I can love Israel when I am being shot at
from every nook and cranny. I am not ready to live here
according to the collective.
"With my two hands, I built a home, created a family and
I am raising a child - and I want to live, not to be
buried in the ground. I was born in order to be happy. I
was at the scene of a terrorist attack and I saw the
blood and the flesh. I don't want to be the next duck in
the shooting gallery."
Can you understand the fierce reactions to what you say?
"Up to a point. If any of those people who are
criticizing me in the name of the collective group of
the Land of Israel loyalists were to speak to me after
he or his relatives suffered a tragedy, he would
probably speak differently. We were all raised on the
well-known mantras that our grandparents didn't come
[all the way] from Morocco or Poland so we would leave.
But I am speaking the truth, which no one wants to
acknowledge, and the truth is that it's impossible to go
on living here."
Does your wife see things the same way?
"My wife, like me, did full army service, she pays
income tax - and she was convinced before I was that we
have to leave Israel. The parents on both sides accept
what we are doing. What I hear from them is that if they
were younger, and if not for the financial investments,
they would also pack up and go to another country, like
us. And I am talking about sabra parents on one side and
about parents who came here 30 years ago from Eastern
Europe for Zionist reasons on the other side - but they
still say these same things. What I wrote doesn't just
express the feelings of my generation."
Sahar's first idea was to move to an island country in
the Pacific (not Vanuatu). In the end, he decided to
move to a large Western country, which he asked me not
to name, and began the immigration procedure.
His dream, he says, is "to buy a bed-and-breakfast place
with 20 rooms on the shore of a lake and to know that I
don't have to be stuck in traffic jams, and that if I am
stuck in a traffic jam, that I won't be blown up. I have
seen people living that way in other countries. I'm
looking for a small, boring place, where people leave
their door open when they go shopping. I know it's out
there."
Still, the overwhelming majority of Israelis are staying
put.
"We have friends - two couples - who have already gone
abroad, and another two friends are in the process. It's
sad. I can understand those who don't get the idea. When
I was growing up, I read all kinds of literature against
emigrating. We were all raised on that. For example, `To
Come Back No Matter What,' by Maoz Habib. The story is
about a boy whose parents decided to move to New York
for economic reasons, and when the Yom Kippur War - or
maybe it was the Six-Day War - breaks out, he makes his
way back and brings his parents, too. He organizes his
buddies to help, and in the end, the family returns to
Israel.
"That is just another example of the things they
preached to us from childhood, that an Israeli will
always feel away from Israel when he is in a foreign
country."
Will you take the book with you?
"Sure. It's part of my childhood landscape."n
END
