The Limits of Militarized Citizenship Agency, Intersectionality and Marginality Among Israeli Draft Refusers

THE LIMITS OF MILITARIZED CITIZENSHIP AGENCY, INTERSECTIONALITY AND MARGINALITY AMONG ISRAELI DRAFT REFUSERS

Wetenschappelijke verhandeling Aantal woorden: 22506

Fien De Meyer Stamnummer: 01105499

Promotor: Prof. dr. Christopher Parker Copromotor: Prof. dr. Omar Suliman-Jabary Salamanca

Wetenschappelijke verhandeling voorgelegd voor het behalen van de graad Master-na-Master in de richting Conflict & Development

Academiejaar: 2016 - 2017

Inzagerecht in de masterproef (*)

Ondergetekende, ……………………………………………………. geeft hierbij toelating / geen toelating (**) aan derden, niet-behorend tot de examencommissie, om zijn/haar (**) proefschrift in te zien.

Datum en handtekening

…………………………..

………………………….

Deze toelating geeft aan derden tevens het recht om delen uit de scriptie/ masterproef te reproduceren of te citeren, uiteraard mits correcte bronvermelding.

------

(*) Deze ondertekende toelating wordt in zoveel exemplaren opgemaakt als het aantal exemplaren van de scriptie/masterproef die moet worden ingediend. Het blad moet ingebonden worden samen met de scriptie onmiddellijk na de kaft. (**) schrappen wat niet past

iii

ABSTRACT (NL)

Deze masterproefanalyse gaat dieper in op legerdienstweigering in Israël als een complex en identitair gegeven. Hierbij wordt afgeweken van algemene theorievorming, berichtgeving en publieke opinie die legerdienstweigering louter benaderen als een verzetsvorm tegen de bezetting van de Palestijnen. De analyse benadrukt de privileges die dergelijke gewetensbezwaarden bezitten op basis van o.a. klasse, gender, ras, etniciteit, religie en algemene burgerschapstatus. Dat militaire dienstweigering vervolgens niet mogelijk of aantrekkelijk is voor zij die deze privileges niet bezitten, hangt in zekere mate samen met de verwachting dat militaire opoffering en loyaliteit een positieve invloed zou hebben op status en burgerschap in Israël. Echter, wanneer deze verwachtingen niet worden ingevuld, kan dit eveneens aanleiding geven tot weigering van legerdienst omwille van onenigheid met het beleid van de staat, het leger en/of de machtigste Ashkenazi groepen in Israël. Deze bevindingen overstijgen analyses van legerdienstweigering door gemarginaliseerde individuen die louter steunen op socio- economische achtergrond om dergelijke dienstweigering te verklaren. Door de weigeringsnarratieven van Israëlische Ethiopiërs, Mizrahi en Druze "in de marges” te bestuderen, wordt legerdienstweigering benaderd als een fenomeen dat gevormd wordt door rationele 'agents' die balanceren tussen staatsloyaliteit en anti-hegemonisch verzet. Ten slotte wordt het feministische concept ‘intersectionaliteit’ gehanteerd om aan te tonen welke gebreken de huidige Israëlische gewetensbezwaarden en Ashkenazi progressieven vertonen in het aanpakken van Israëls interne problemen. De intersectionele analyse legt tevens bloot welke verbanden er al dan niet gelegd worden tussen de Israëlische dienstweigeraars in de marge enerzijds, en de Palestijnen anderzijds.

FOREWORD

The writing of my final master's dissertation has been a challenging and interesting pleasure. This journey started with a profound interest in Israeli Jewish dissidence, Israeli identity struggles, military draft refusal and feminist literature; topics I was eventually able to combine in one, comprehensive research.

The process of outlining this research was one that slowly came to grow as I learned more about Israeli society and its multicultural composition. In accordance with most media reports and academic literature, I was initially drawn to conscientious objection as a means of dissent. However, after conducting several interviews in Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, I came to realize that I was missing important narratives of draft refusal that do not fit in the traditional box of conscientious objection or anti-occupation resistance. In order to render these alternative voices their agency, I adapted my research and thoroughly analyzed their positionality, identity struggles and military refusal narratives.

However, this work would not have been possible without the insights and advice I gained from several people. I would like to thank Prof. dr. Christopher Parker for the confidence he had in me when I presented him with my final thematic ideas, as well as the autonomy I received navigating my way through these topics. Moreover, Prof. dr. Parker has been a passionate guide and mentor during our field work trip to Israel and the Palestinian Occupied Territories, where I gained a profound interest in Israeli society and the Palestinian cause. I would also like to thank Ruth Hiller, Khaled Farrag, Tom Mehager, Michel Warschawski, Yasmin Yablonko, Meir Amor and Tair Kaminer for their time and effort to talk to me about their understanding of draft refusal in Israel. While my dissertation is not integrally based on these interviews, the acquired insights have helped me to demarcate my research topic as well as build up my final conclusion. I would also like to thank Maartje Van Poppel and Nathan Gryp for helping me carry out most of these interviews during our stay in Israel.

Lastly, I am grateful for the words of support from my parents, grandparents, sisters and friends that kept me motivated during the final months of this research. It is with the support of all these people that I am able to hand in my master's dissertation with a feeling of pride and gratification.

TABLE OF CONTENT

FOREWORD ...... INTRODUCTION ......

1. Draft Obligations and Resistance to Israeli Military Service ...... 1 1.1. The Pioneers Of Draft Refusal ...... 1 1.2. The Emergence of Draft Refusal as a Political Tool ...... 1 1.3. The Feminist Military Refusal Narrative ...... 6

2. The Military and Questions of Citizenship ...... 11

3. The Current Landscape of Military Service and Refusal by Groups in the Margins .. 14 3.1. Military Service and Rejection by Arab Israelis: Countering Divide and rule ...... 14 3.1.1. Israeli Druze: The History of a Coopted Minority ...... 15 3.1.2. Christian and Bedouin Arabs: Israel's Quest for Volunteers ...... 16 3.1.3. Palestinian/Arab Counter Narratives of Military Service and Draft Refusal ...... 18 3.2. Military Service by Jewish Groups in the Margin ...... 22 3.2.1. Military Service and Citizenship: Mizrahi and Ethiopian Jews in Israel ...... 23 3.2.1.1. Stigmatization, Racism and Identity Struggle ...... 23 3.2.1.2. Jewish Military Service along Ethnic Lines ...... 28 3.2.1.3. Alternative Narratives of Jewish Military Refusers in the Margin ...... 31 3.2.2. Beyond the Mosaic of Identities and Discourse ...... 37

4. Intersectionality of Movements and Struggles: Draft Refusal as Commonality ...... 38 4.1. The Intersections between Mizrahim, Ethiopian Jews and Palestinians ...... 40 4.2. The Complicity of Israeli Conscientious Objectors and the Ashkenazi Left ...... 44 4.3. Intersectional Initiatives and the Role of Feminism ...... 47 CONCLUSION ...... 52 BIBLIOGRAPHY ...... 56

vii

INTRODUCTION

For over decades, the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) have played a significant role in Israeli state and nation building. The obligatory military draft imposed after the establishment of the state encouraged all Israeli citizens to contribute to the Zionist ideal of building a Jewish State – a state that had to be protected from Arab and Palestinian hostilities. Through consecutive wars and military offensives in the name of defense, the IDF and its soldiers succeeded in gaining status, authority and prestige in Israel. Hence, for a long time, contributing to the state through military performance was perceived as a normalcy; a rite of passage through which every Israeli could prove its worth to the state. Nevertheless, no military institution or state apparatus ever remains internally unchallenged. For over decades, the media and academic literature have reported a slow but steady rise in the amount of individuals rejecting their military service. As most Israeli citizens are obligated by law to carry out their military duties, the rejection thereof can lead to community stigmatization, thwarted future prospects, and even military imprisonment. Those who consciously decide to refuse army service out of disagreement with the state's policies vis-à-vis the Palestinians in the Occupied Territories, often publicly struggle to receive exemption from service from the military courts and committees. The act of conscientious objection in Israel is controversial to say the least, with low yearly numbers of formal exemptions based on conscientious objection. Therefore, several academics and progressive media platforms have attempted to grasp the phenomenon of conscientious objection, the reasons leading up to it, the formal and informal procedures for exemption and the final consequences thereof for the refusing individual. The discourse produced by these voices is usually one of bravery and counter- hegemonic resistance against Israel's occupation policy. Yet, while recognizing the importance of these efforts, it is first and foremost important to expose the underlying forces shaping the phenomenon of conscientious objection. Through a historical analysis of Israeli draft refusal, I will first outline the main narratives of military refusal that have been produced in Israel the past seventy years. Although the main discourse on draft refusal is one linked to the Palestinian question, anti-occupation refusers approach the government, the military and the occupation in dissimilar ways. More importantly, through

viii

analyzing these narratives, one is also able to observe the limits of conscientious objection itself. Accordingly, I will highlight how conscientious objection and anti- occupation draft refusal only constitute a portion of all draft refusal narratives, while dissimilar refusal narratives are discarded, misunderstood or undervalued in general discourse and literature. Moreover, the following research will demonstrate how the access to conscientious objection is bound up with one's class position, gender, ethnicity, religion, race, and overall citizenship status in society. Hence, our understanding of draft refusal is more than often limited to narratives of refusers who usually belong to similar, advanced status groups in Israel, while "less sensational" narratives need to be recognized and investigated as well.

In order to broaden our understanding of military draft refusal, it is therefore important to explore refusal narratives of disadvantaged groups in Israel. In doing so, I will attempt to uncover the possible links between military service, citizenship status and ethno- nationalism. After all, one's lower status position does not only determine the (limited) access to draft refusal; it also partly explains the rationales behind initial state loyalty and military service. Moreover, where marginalized individuals are willing and able to refuse, our current understanding of incentives behind their draft refusal is often shaped by misconceptions and prejudices. While their peripheral status is both linked to the ability to refuse as to the ways in which draft refusal will be externalized, a more complex description of military refusal by these groups is lacking. Hence, this paper's analysis will explore the hybrid identities that shape these refusal narratives, as well as expose the domestic oppressions that permeate Israeli society. Moreover, the analysis will go beyond explanations that narrate one's relation to the military from a victim perspective, instead allowing for an analysis based on agency and willful decision-making. The draft refusal narratives in the margins will be examined through the use of limited academic literature and journalistic interviews, opinions and articles. In addition, I will incorporate some additional insights that I gained during my own fieldwork interviews in Israel. However, these quotes will be used as mere illustrations that corroborate the knowledge produced by academic and journalistic research efforts.

Finally, as a tool of analysis, I will use the feminist concept of intersectionality to account for marginality, agency and solidarity in the Israeli military refusal discourse. Intersectionality has been theorized by feminists as a conceptual and analytical tool exposing the different, multiple and interconnected oppressions that affect certain individuals. Easily put: while white women suffer from sexism, black women will find themselves at the crossing point of intersecting oppressions based on race and sex. Intersectionality as a theme will be visible throughout the whole paper and is applicable to the phenomenon of Israeli draft refusal. First of all, the concept will be employed to analyze the failure of Ashkenazi peace and refusal movements in recognizing the domestic struggles of less privileged Israelis. Moreover, intersectionality raises questions about the connection of struggles and solidarity between different oppressed groups that are located inside and outside Israel. These questions will be addressed in the final section of the paper. The eventual aim of the research is to better grasp the rationales behind military service and refusal in Israel, challenge the idea of passive marginality and explore gateways to solidarity and intersectional peace building in Israel.

1. Draft Obligations and Resistance to Israeli Military Service

1.1. The Pioneers Of Draft Refusal

The military has always been an embedded reality in Israel, shaping the state's borders and its society (Ben-Eliezer, 1998). Regardless of the fact that military service and militarization are omnipresent in Israel today, they have never been fully void from criticism. In fact, resistance to these tendencies through draft refusal has been on the rise since the very establishment of the state (Levy & Mizrahi 2008; Levy, 2009). The first instance of military service refusal in Israel predates the installment of the obligatory draft itself. While there was no such thing as a refusal movement or structural phenomenon at that time, the '48 Israeli-Arab War was accompanied by instances of draft rejection. In August 1948, a violinist from Haifa named Joseph William Abileah was put on trial for his refusal to participate in the war and its aftermath after refusing enlistment (Epstein, 1998). It was the first court case against a conscientious objector in Israel, whose arguments for refusal were based on a socialist and religious inspired pacifism. After the establishment of the state, an obligatory military service was imposed on all Jewish, Druze and Circassian citizens, with exemption from service applicable to Palestinian/Arab Israelis. The Israeli Defense Service Law of 1949 also provided for certain exemptions applicable to ultra-Orthodox Jews and pregnant women and mothers. After the installment of the obligatory draft, many others followed Abileah's footsteps and presented themselves as Zionist and spiritual inspired pacifists. Nevertheless, in those early years conscientious objection and draft evasion remained a private and individual matter, which left many of the pioneer refusers unpunished (Weiss, 2014).

1.2. The Emergence of Draft Refusal as a Political Tool

It is only after the war of 1967 that certain transformations in military service rejection and the response to it emerged. Not only did the Six-Day war reshape the borders of Israel and Palestine, it also marked the beginning of distinct military-civil relations and a new chapter for conscientious objection (Epstein 1998; Levy & Mizrahi 2008). While there are

no known cases of military service rejection during the conflict, the new borders and Israeli control mechanisms in the Occupied Territories led to multiple instances of military dissent. EPSTEIN describes how this new type of objection involved political refusal with the intent to influence government policy (1998). No longer was draft refusal exclusively generated by inner Zionist and pacifist ideals; refusal now became a tool of political dissent voiced by citizens who felt responsible for their government's mistakes. LEBEL calls this a period of 'strategic military refusal': a conscious strategy used by civic groups to become internal veto groups and policy-shapers beyond the parliamentary playing field (Lebel, 2014). Contrary to traditional understandings of military service refusal, 'strategic military refusal' does not refer to a personal and individual act based on values, personality, and beliefs. Instead, LEBEL emphasizes the social relations that are shaping the individual: the individual is part of a collective whose leaders he perceives as an epistemic authority1 (2014). Loyalty of the soldiers is consequently conditioned and limited to duties as long as they do not contradict the norms and expectations of their epistemic authorities. This institutionalized, rational and strategic refusal is explicitly common since the rise to power of the Likud party in 1977 and put into practice by groups that were inferior or excluded in the parliamentary arena (Lebel, 2014).

Not only did military service rejection undergo a change of nature, it also became a growing phenomenon in terms of numbers of refusers and movements. In seeking to explain the declining willingness to serve, some have referred to globalization and liberalization tendencies (Shafir & Peled, 2002). Others have argued that these observations are the result of the quasi-failure of a contract between the state and its citizens (Levy, Nomsky-Feder & Harel, 2007; Levy & Mizrahi, 2008). This republican contract entails "the exchange between the willingness of citizens to sacrifice their lives and wealth by bearing the costs of war and the preparations for it in return for civil, social, and political rights as well as other rewards granted to them by the state" (Levy & Mizrahi, 2008, 26). Accordingly, the devotion to compulsory service in the IDF was based on the republican ethos of which Ashkenazi secular middle-class Jews formed the core. After all, it was this privileged Ashkenazi group that founded the army, staffed its higher

1 Lebel describes 'epistemic authority' as an "identity that creates metanarratives and thus shapes

echelons and was rewarded for its achievements, which further translated their military dominance in social dominance (Levy & Mizrahi, 2008). This meant that the republican contract was mainly beneficial and socially rewarding for this group, while more peripheral groups like Oriental Mizrahi Jews did not enjoy this status. As long as the republican equation was maintained and the social status advanced, the secular Ashkenazi Jews supported the military sacrifice (Levy, 2008a). However, fractures in the republican contract started to emerge after the Yom Kippur War in 1973, when the secular Ashkenazi middle class gradually began to withdraw from the military and individuals were increasingly rejecting military service as a career path (Levy, 2006). As a result, the state committed to incorporating more peripheral individuals and women, who would sacrifice themselves for a lower price as they still had something to gain from the social mobility that the army had to offer (Levy, 2008b).2

The reasons for the quasi-failure of the republican contract and the growing dissatisfaction of the privileged core group of Ashkenazi soldiers were manifold. First of all, the weaknesses demonstrated by the military in both the 1973 War and the First Lebanon War led to the devaluation of the military's prestige and consequently, the devaluation of the symbolic power of the Ashkenazi soldier-citizen (Levy & Mizrahi, 2008). Moreover, the Yom Kippur War led Israel into a financial crisis, which reduced the material benefits that Ashkenazi secular middle class soldiers usually received as a reward for their sacrifice (Levy & Mizrahi, 2008). In addition, the declining willingness to serve the IDF is also explained referring to the presence of a growing consumerist, materialist ethos among the middle class as a consequence of economic globalization (Levy & Mizrahi, 2008). In other words: serving the army was no longer deemed necessary for social mobility and maintaining social dominance. After all, the distribution of social goods and climbing the social status ladder could also be achieved through personal achievements in the market economy. Yet, for peripheral and stigmatized

2 Due to the lack of statistics about the different groups in the IDF, authors have turned to other methodes to measure the social change in the constitution of the army. For example, LEVY has mapped the casualties of conflicts and noticed a significant decrease of Ashkenazi casualties in the Al-Aqsa intifada compared to the first Lebanon War, indicating that the traditional elite groups had been replaced by peripheral groups (Levy, 2006, 313).

religious groups, the IDF remained an important rite of passage into society; a second "bar mitzvah" for citizenship, privileges, social and political rights (see infra).

As the hegemonic Ashkenazi class was hit the hardest by the quasi-failure of the republican contract, the first institutionalized draft refusal movements were produced by individuals from this group (Levy & Mizrahi, 2008). Many authors claim that it was not until the Lebanon War that such institutionalization took place, through the establishment of the reserve soldier movement 'Yesh Gvul'. Many perceive this movement –which translates to “there is a border/limit”– as the pioneer of collective, selective and politicized military refusal (Linn 1986, Ezra, 2004; Dloomy 2005, Lainer-Vos 2006, Weiss 2014). When Israel invaded Lebanon in June 1982, supposedly to clear the border area of PLO "terrorists", it crossed the lines of a mere police action. For many reservists, participation in the conflict could no longer be supported as it was perceived as a "war of choice" and a clear provocation from the Israeli government (Lainer-Vos, 2006). This directly led to the establishment of Yesh Gvul by some radical reservist soldiers, whose actions are not so different from the civil disobedience actions of Ghandi or Martin Luther King (Epstein, 1998; Kidron, 2002). Initially, the 83 reservists wrote and signed a letter of refusal – called 'the letter of 100' – that selectively requested not be sent to the Lebanon War. Many others followed in their footsteps and after the Sabra and Shatila massacre, there were over 1000 signatories of 'refuseniks' that supported the movement and declared that, if called up, they would not serve in Lebanon.3 Still, Yesh Gvul was careful in its strategy: to avoid criminal liability, it never advocated or encouraged draft refusal as such, but rather stated it would 'support' those who refused (Kidron, 2002). As a result, these public refuseniks were usually treated rather gently: the prison sentences were not always imposed, and if they were, jail time often varied between a mere 14 and 35 days (Epstein, 2002).

3 In 2002, Yesh Gvul member Peretz Kidron used the term 'Refusenik' to describe those who (selectively) refuse military service. However, the original term refers to individuals, mainly but not exclusively Soviet Jews, that were denied the right to emigrate by the former Soviet Union and other Eastern Bloc countries in the 60's and 70's.

It is important to mention that the movement not only resulted in more instances of public and direct refusal, but also in a less documented, underestimated form of refusal called "hidden refusal' (Epstein, 2002) or "gray refusal" (Linn, 1996; Levy, 2013). While there are 143 known cases of reservists that actually rejected their service in Lebanon, these only include soldiers who disobeyed an actual order and were sentenced to military prison (Epstein, 2002). Gray refusal is estimated to encompass a much larger number of refusers and contains those who expressed their unease with certain missions in a less public manner (Linn, 1996; Dloomy, 2005). This strategy to get released from particular orders entails different methods, such as negotiation with commanders or producing counterfeit arguments like job barriers or illness (Linn, 1996). The omnipresence and success of these methods is often the result of the fact that they do not morally and publicly threaten the army or the state (Levy, 2013). It is also this type of refusal that became increasingly associated with socio-economically weaker groups such as Mizrahim, Ethiopian Jews or Druze Israelis (Weiss, 2017).

Soon after the ending of the war, the more radical activists of Yesh Gvul started backing the rejection of any service beyond the Green Line (Linn, 1996). Both in the Lebanon War and the Intifada, the movement had a strong public impact and proved a valuable tool for non-violent protest (Kidron, 2002). Today, Yesh Gvul is still active and supportive of draft refusal, but it gradually came to share the field with different refusers' movement.

That new movements emerged is not surprising as Yesh Gvul had its own limitations. Not only did the movement exclusively exist out of Ashkenazi male reservists; it was by nature supportive of military service and the role of the soldier (Lainer-Vos, 2006). This philosophy also implied that members often drew on past military experience or sacrifices to establish the legitimacy of their military refusal narratives (Linn, 1996; Golan, 1997). While many today question this approach to draft refusal (infra), many of the initiatives that emerged after Yesh Gvul were based on a similar philosophy. For example, 2002 and 2003 was marked by a major wave of military refusal initiatives during Operation Defensive Shield, resulting in draft refusal letters from elite pilots and commandos (Weiss, 2014). A group of reservists, later joined in the group 'Courage to Refuse',

published a letter in which their initial commitment to the IDF was reiterated. While these men – like the members of Yesh Gvul – refused to serve in Gaza and the West Bank, their letter was initiated by a statement emphasizing their Zionist, moral beliefs and previous self-sacrifice:

"We, reserve combat officers and soldiers of the Israel Defense Forces, who were raised upon the principles of Zionism, self-sacrifice and giving to the people of Israel and to the State of Israel, who have always served in the front lines, and who were the first to carry out any mission in order to protect the State of Israel and strengthen it (...)"4

Nevertheless, the initial loyalty to military service, the state and the Zionist project did not appeal to everyone. Not only were few women involved in these initiatives; the approach also implied that only those who had carried a gun and gone to battle had the legitimate power to challenge the army and state. For these reasons, other initiatives emerged simultaneously that broadened the spectrum of military draft refusal in Israel.

1.3. The Feminist Military Refusal Narrative

With decades of male-led, reservist refusal, it may come to no surprise that a new approach to draft refusal was initiated by women. In 1998, feminist activists established the organization 'New Profile', calling for the demilitarization of Israel and voicing support for those who rejected the obligatory draft. What began as two study groups of concerned women and mothers discussing feminism and militarism in Israel, soon turned into an active consciousness-raising group and refusers support network.5 New Profile's activism is not only different in scope and nature from that of previous, male-dominated movements; their activists explicitly position themselves against masculine narratives of draft refusal. For example, activist Ruth Hiller once argued against the use of the term

4 Courage To Refuse (n.d.). Combatants Letter. Retrieved July 3, 2017 from http://www.seruv.org.il/english/combatants_letter.asp 5 Jewish Voice for Peace (n.d.). Interview with New Profile's Ruth Hiller. Retrieved July 2, 2017 from New Profile: http://www.newprofile.org/english/node/154

'refusenik' as it was recoined by Yesh Gvul, a movement which she called "another non- inclusive boys-club, a social structure not unlike the army itself" (Hiller, n.d.).

Although the organization states that they support different kinds of refusers, its own approach exposed absolute, pacifist refusal and is based on feminist critiques of militarization and the occupation (Hiller, n.d.; Zemlinskaya, 2009). Similarly, many feminist academics have voiced their concern over the reality of Israeli militarization and its gendered implications for both women and men (Yuval-Davis, 1985; Golan, 1997; Levin, 2011; Sasson-Levy, 2003, 2007, 2011, 2014). These numerous accounts have described how the military and militarization have a gendered impact before, during and after military service, perpetuating stereotypical gender roles for both women and men.

First of all, it should be noted that the military draft rules themselves reproduce certain inequalities. Women serve less time than men and are not required to do reserve service. Moreover, it has been argued that women who try to evade or refuse army service are more likely to get exempted than men (Golan, 1997). Women who do carry out service often face formal and informal barriers within their assigned roles in the military. The predominantly masculine and gendered space that is the army, encourages men and women to act out well-known stereotypes: men are expected to be strong aggressors, while women are rewarded for pretty, nurturing and accommodating behavior (Golan, 1997; Levin, 2011). Consequently, women more than often are relegated to subordinate and soft, feminized roles (Sasson-Levy, 2007), while they face many barriers to attain and perform in other, combat-like positions (Sasson-Levy, 2011). In fact, 87 percent of all the soldiers serving in secretarial positions in 2007 were reported to be women (Sasson- Levy, 2007). These women are frequently expected to carry out domestic roles such as food preparing and cleaning and thus measure up to traditional femininity standards (Levin, 2011), which can result in disappointment and frustration with regards to their military service (Sasson-Levy, 2007). These observations are similar to descriptions of women's desired roles to create 'a home away from home' and to 'raise the morale' of male soldiers (Yuval-Davis, 1985). Moreover, girls who emphasize their femininity are usually the ones carrying out these jobs, which demonstrates that both gender and

sexuality dynamics permeate the Israeli army (Levin, 2011). In research conducted by LEVIN, participants reported that accounts of sexual harassment, gender performance and dating experience in the army are not rare (2011). Despite filling in different ranks and positions in the army, "You’re (were) always first a girl and then whatever you were", one participant stated (Levin, 2011, 24).

These gendered dynamics also explain women's access to combat roles. While women are no longer formally excluded from combat positions, in 2011, women comprised only 3% of the army's combat forces (Sasson-Levy, 2011). As status in the army and society is often measured by one's affiliation with combat, their problematic access to such positions has a lasting impact on women's future perspectives (Golan, 1997). Women that do enter combat have other pressures and barriers to deal with, as they are located within a hyper-masculine environment that entails expectations for both men and women (Levin, 2011; Sasson-Levy, 2011).6 The result of these dynamics is the following binary setup: women either assimilate with masculine behavior and appearance to succeed as combat soldiers, or emphasize their femininity to fit in more clerical, caring roles (Sasson- Levy, 2003; Levin, 2011).

However, it needs to be reminded that feminist literature increasingly rejects emancipation through problematic imitation of male behavior. Seeking equality by producing hyper-masculine combat behavior is argued not to be the road to take, especially in the light of the gendered nature of military service and the occupation, which by many feminists is perceived as unjust (Golan, 1997). After all, the imitation of this kind of behavior perpetuates the association between masculinity and militarism and reproduces a militarist mentality (Sasson-Levy, 2003). Therefore, the incorporation of women in combat roles is often an "emancipation" not supported by more radical

6 For example, male avoidance of military service has been analyzed as an expression of resistance to hegemonic masculinity (Perez & Sasson-Levy, 2015). While this unease may not always be expressed through 'political' refusal or conscientious objection, the resistance to hegemonic masculinity often leads to the construction of a non-conformist identity through which draft refusal can gain political significance (Perez & Sasson-Levy, 2015).

feminists and organizations like New Profile, which plead for a downsized army and voluntary military service.7

Lastly, NATANEL investigated the strong bond between feminism and conscientious objection in Israel (2012). New Profile and other feminist initiatives like Machsom Watch, Mesarvot or Women in Black, demonstrate how women play an active role in collective demilitarization, draft refusal and peace initiatives. Several authors have subsequently highlighted the importance of attention to gender relations and dynamics in the Israeli- Palestinian peace processes (Aharoni, 2011; Farr, 2011; Mansbach, 2012; Kutz- Flamenbaum, 2012). While these initiatives should be credited for their contributions to peace building, one should also take into account the limits of their activism and movements. Not only is there a lack of one, unified, Israeli feminism, with some calling for conscientious objection and others for military inclusion; there are also tensions at the heart of those initiatives that support draft refusal that are directly linked to the nature of conscientious objection.

First of all, because refusal movements have usually linked refusal to conscious (Weiss, 2014) or an anti-occupation agenda (Natanel, 2012) – other narratives of refusal automatically have been excluded. As the choice for either army service or rejection thereof is closely linked to the individual's social and economic position in society, conscientious objection is not always a realistic option. Understandings of military service as normal and as a vehicle for social mobilization further impede the decision to refuse on the basis of conscientious objection. In addition, differential access to knowledge and expression are determining elements in understanding the choice for a certain type of service rejection (Natanel, 2012). These observations taken into account, it is not surprising that conscientious objection is often referred to as a 'privilege' only possessed by some (Natanel, 2012; Mehager, 2016). In fact, it is frequently described as a higher- class social phenomenon exclusively pertaining to an urban, Tel Aviv intellectual elite (Mehager, 2016; Weiss, 2017).

7 New Profile (2012). NP Annual Activity Report 2012. Retrieved July 7, 2017, from New Profile: http://www.newprofile.org/english/2012report

Hence, it needs to be emphasized that the phenomenon of military refusal in itself is not only gendered, but also an expression of ethnicity, class, religion, race and geopolitical positioning. In this sense, one needs to pay attention to the intersecting power relations that shape individuals, their agency and appeal to military refusal. These insights have enabled feminists to interrogate and address the structural hierarchies of power that define the scope, strategy, membership and efficacy of their refusal movements. However, the feminist theory of intersectionality is not only of importance to feminist movements that engage with conscientious objection, but evidently to all groups who support or advocate for draft refusal.

The often glorifying emphasis on conscientious objection and anti-occupation refusal is prevalent in most academic literature on Israeli military refusal as well, resulting in a lack of understanding of refusal narratives that do not fit in this particular type of resistance (Linn, 1996; Epstein, 2002; Ezra, 2004; Dloomy, 2005; Friedman, 2006; Lainer-Vos, 2006; Zemlinskaya, 2009; Weiss, 2011, 2014; Livio, 2015). In-depth research of alternative draft refusal narratives – which are often but not solely related to groups operating outside the secular Ashkenazi middle class hegemony – has rarely been carried out. Moreover, when these narratives are mentioned, this often happens in terms of 'dodging'8 or 'evading' service, which does not render the individuals involved much agency (Even Or, 2014; Perez & Sasson-Levy, 2015). One may argue that categorizations separating 'dodgers' from 'refusers' are not useful, as refusal in itself is a subjective phenomenon often shaped by a complex set of different motives. As mentioned before, expressing refusal in a 'silent' way or evading service by counterfeiting mental or physical disease and thus not being categorized as conscientious objector or selective refuser, does not necessarily equal an apolitical choice or behavior void of ethics (Moldavsky, 2006; Natanel, 2012; Perez & Sasson-Levy, 2015; Weiss, 2015, 2017). Similarly, the decision to serve in the IDF does not always reflect full agreement with state policies, the wars being waged or the occupation being sustained. Moreover, while the military collects statistics on draft refusal, these figures are not regularly released. If disclosed, they are often incomplete and disaggregated by categorizations

8 'Mishtamtim' in Hebrew, meaning shirkers/draft dodgers.

that prevent a comprehensive understanding of the whole (Natanel, 2012). The fact that no clear statistics are available on the wide range of complex motives, the yearly amount of refusers, nor their ethnic or religious belonging to certain groups, makes the understanding of military draft refusal even more complex.

In order to better grasp the phenomenon, it is therefore necessary to step away from the formal, public narratives of draft refusal usually shaped by elitist movements and organizations, and instead aim for a conception of subjective refusal that not always corresponds to its formal expression. Hence, for the purpose of this paper, military draft refusal will be described as "the rejection or evasion of army service based on a rational choice, reflecting ethical or political stances which embody resistance to hegemonic patterns in society".

In the next sections, I will use this conception of draft refusal, as well as feminist theories of intersectionality, to broaden our understanding of military refusal "in the margin". This analysis will map motives, obstacles and consequences linked to military service and refusal by individuals of marginalized groups that operate outside of the secular, Ashkenazi middle class hegemony in Israel. These alternative narratives were collected from online and offline interviews, journalistic articles and academic literature available on the position of these groups.

2. The Military and Questions of Citizenship

In order to analyze draft refusal narratives in the margins, one must first acquire a vital understanding of the differential significance of military service to different groups. In doing so, the supposed connection between citizenship and soldiering will be discussed. Indeed, authors have argued for an understanding of citizenship that is largely shaped and conditioned by one's military service and sacrifice. The strong link between soldiering and civic virtue can be best understood by tracking down hierarchies of citizenship that have been produced in Israel the past 70 years.

In short, the citizenship structure in Israel has been established through the use of three discourses: the liberal, the ethno-nationalist and the republican (Peled, 1992). First of all, the liberal conception of citizenship has served to separate citizen Jews and Palestinians from the Palestinians lacking citizenship – those in the Occupied Territories and the refugees and stateless abroad (Peled & Shafir, 1996). The ethno-nationalist idea of citizenship has functioned to exclusively favor Jewish citizens over Palestinian citizens (Peled, 1992; Tilly, 1995). What is most relevant to this research, however, is the republican discourse, which legitimized different positions assigned to the major Jewish groups: Ashkenazim vs. Mizrahim; Secular vs. Religious; Men vs. Women (Peled & Shafir, 1996; Peled & Shafir, 2002). Unlike liberal citizenship, which comes with a passive set of rights, the republican citizen is expected to actively participate in the promotion and protection of the common good and state (Peled, 1992). This participation is not only an expression of citizenship, but also a duty and condition in order to become a worthy citizen (Oldfield, 1990). Active devotion – for example through military duty and sacrifice – shapes one's civic virtue and entitles the individual to greater shares in material and moral resources (Peled & Shafir, 2002).

Historically, this republican equation entailed a strong, reciprocal exchange that defined the boundaries of citizenship (Levy, 2008). Especially those who founded the state and the army were rewarded with social dominance for their military sacrifices (supra). It has been argued previously that clear fractures in the republican contract between the state and privileged groups emerged after '67, leading to their growing rejection of service. As a result, the state increasingly incorporated marginalized individuals and women in the military and the ranks previously occupied by the hegemonic group (Levy & Mizrahi, 2008). Moreover, the declining republican discourse went hand in hand with Mizrahim clinging more strongly to the ethno-national discourse of citizenship. Clinging to ethno- national narratives implies that Mizrahim seek state protection against the negative effects of economic liberalism they suffer, as well as affirmation of their "privileged" status as Jews in Israel (Peled & Shafir, 1998). This history has been used to explain the willingness of Mizrahim and other peripheral groups to serve in the army, as military service constitutes a way to self-portrayal as Jewish nationalists or real patriots (Levy &

Mizrahi, 2008). Moreover, for these groups, military service remained significant in comparison to other, less accessible ways of climbing the social ladder (supra).9 This argument also stands for ethnic groups like the Ethiopian Jews that emigrated to Israel later, as many of them are associated with similar ethno-nationalist and republican discourses as well as socio-economic positions (Omer, 2015). However, regardless of their patriotism or willingness to serve, their military integration did not necessarily prove successful to these groups in terms of upward mobilization. In fact, most non-Ashkenazi and religious Jews were and are still relegated to the lower echelons in both the military and society (infra).

This analysis shows analogies with research by BURK, who investigated military service as a quest for inclusion by minorities of color and women in the United States (1995). In doing so, the author departs from the dual assumption that, historically, members of groups not fully recognized as citizens could advance their social status by carrying out military service; otherwise, those who were seen as full citizens could risk losing this status by refusing their service (Burk, 1995). However, the author subsequently challenges these ideas to a certain extant. He contends that, while the military has become more inclusive towards minorities and women since the end of WWII, it is not essentially true that serving in the military automatically confers citizenship status. The analogies are evident. Just like slaves and later African Americans lacking full citizenship sought military service to demonstrate political loyalty and worthiness as citizens; non- hegemonic groups in Israel have followed similar paths. BURK states that throughout the history of black individuals seeking citizenship through service, slavery and racism still deprived them not only from political privileges but also from the recognition of their humanity (1995). Not only did African Americans struggle for the "right to fight" – for example because they were initially barred from service. Once they were allowed to serve, they did not receive the recognition of their value as citizens (Burk, 1995). Only after WWII, when structures of segregation within the army were dismantled, changes

9 As mentioned, economic liberalization and globalization became alternative venues for upward mobilization, especially for privileged groups who already had access to social and economic capital. Thus, climbing the social status ladder could now also be the result of personal achievements in the market economy.

gradually emerged in the equal incorporation of African American fighters as well as efforts to end racism and stigma in the army and society (Burk, 1995). However, this is not to state that the US army, let alone US society, is completely void of racist practices today. The author concludes that the transition from drafted force to all-volunteer force renders the issue of citizenship of African Americans through soldiering irrelevant (1995). In fact, the author claims issues might arise from "the inequity of their willingness to serve while others, often more privileged, remain at home" (Burk, 1995, 524).

It is analogous yet not similar trends that can be observed in Israel. Above all, it seems like the causality between soldiering and citizenship in practice needs to be nuanced. While the production and history of citizenship in Israel and other countries is useful to understand why many individuals belonging to disadvantaged groups carry out their military duties, it can also expose discrepancies and unfulfilled expectations. Not only does the position as secondary citizens encourage some to emphasize their Jewish and patriotic identity through military service; dissatisfaction with one's prolonged peripheral status can also lead to rejection thereof. As I will argue, the unsatisfied link between soldiering and enhanced citizenship can serve as a driving force behind military dissent that cannot be categorized as conscientious objection or anti-occupation refusal, nor as what some describe as 'draft dodging'.

3. The Current Landscape of Military Service and Refusal by Groups in the Margins

3.1. Military Service and Rejection by Arab Israelis: Countering Divide and Rule

Today, the Israeli Defense Forces are compounded of individuals from different ethnic, racial, religious, class and gender backgrounds. Even though Arab/Palestinian Israelis are formally exempted from obligatory service, Israel has never shied away from drafting or inviting Arab minorities to join the IDF. Already in 1948, Israel created a Minorities Unit

consisting of Druze, Bedouin and Circassian soldiers, today known as the 'IDF Sword Battalion'. To clarify: the indigenous Palestinian population compromises about 20% of the Israeli population.10 This group has been divided by Israel into categories mainly based on religion (Muslim-Christian-Druze) and region (Negev Bedouins, Galilee Arabs, Triangle Arabs) (Torstrick, 2000). In popular and official discourse, they ceased to be Palestinian and were recategorized as Arab Israelis (Torstrick, 2000).11 Many Palestinians today would argue that these divisions were not implemented out of practical considerations, but rather as a planned strategy of divide and rule to break Palestinian/Arab unity. In fact, this was openly suggested in a 1949 statement made by the Israeli Inter-Ministerial Committee concerned with the integration of Arabs into the Jewish state. The statement carried the message that "the best way to deal with minorities was 'to divide and subdivide them'" and “the main focus should be on one issue: to prevent the Arab minorities from coalescing into one group” (Firro, 2001, 40). This strategy has influenced Israel's policy towards Arab minorities and shaped Arab identities and loyalties since the establishment of the state.

3.1.1. Israeli Druze: The History of a Coopted Minority

The most prominent manifestation of Israel's policy of division is the 1956 compulsory conscription law for Druze male Arabs. Together with Circassian, they represent the exceptions to the rule of army exemption for Arabs. The conscription was said to be part of an agreement following a request by Druze leaders to be permanently incorporated in the army. However, this narrative has been contested, with some calling it an orchestrated event between elitist, zionised Druze and Israeli leaders in order to suppress Palestinian and Arab national sentiment among the Druze (Firro, 2001). This point of view was defended by one of my Druze fieldwork participants, Khaled Farrag:

10 Israel Central Bureau of Statistics (2013, April 14). 65th Independence Day - More than 8 Million Residents in the State of Israel. Retrieved July 4, 2017 from Israel Central Bureau of Statistics: http://www.cbs.gov.il/hodaot2013n/11_13_097e.pdf 11 However, research has demonstrated that there is a growing number of Arabs in Israel returning to their Palestinian identity and defining themselves as such (Kanaaneh, 2003).

"In 1948, the Druze fought the occupation alongside the Palestinians. In the '50s, the resistance against the law of recruitment was there, even before the law was installed. It was not an agreement. It was imposed on us."

One year after the introduction of the conscription law, the Israeli government issued identity cards that changed nationality from 'Arab' to 'Druze': an "invention" that sparked more outrage in Druze communities (Firro, 2001). Other measures were taken in the political, economic and cultural field to coopt Druze, like separate Druze Courts and a Druze educational curriculum that emphasized Druze religious particularism and "Israeli- Druze consciousness" (Firro, 2001). Not only is the strategy of incorporation and obligatory military draft supposedly aimed at separating Druze from other Arabs. In fact, Farrag claims that it also serves a secondary purpose. "The obligatory draft is often used by Israel as an example of how well integrated we as a minority are and how we don't suffer from racism. It's just another lie."

There is no doubt that the Druze have always occupied a particular, religious identity aside of their Arab identity. However, FIRRO claims that Israel transformed this specificity into a new kind of “particularism” fitting the agenda of the Jewish state (2001). Some would argue that the Zionist strategy has been a success (Firro, 2001), with many Druze embracing their Israeli-Druze identity, joining Zionist movements or occupying Israeli security positions. Similarly, serving the army has become a natural duty for many Druze, as well as an opportunity to improve their status.

3.1.2. Christian and Bedouin Arabs: Israel's Quest for Volunteers

Other Arab groups in Israel are not subject to compulsory military service, but often experience similar rapprochements from the state with the aim of enlisting them. More recently, proactive initiatives were taken by the government to invite Christian Arabs to serve in the IDF. In 2014, an increase in Christian recruits was reported, with support from the Israeli government and some Christian leaders. Regardless of incoming threats, the Greek Orthodox priest Gabriel Naddaf and two other priests established the “Israeli-

Christian Recruitment Forum” to encourage Christian army service. For Naddaf, military service is the key to success in life and Christians "want to contribute to the society we (they) live in" (Vick, 2014). Other drivers of Arab Christian military service can be found in the severe circumstances facing Christians across the Middle East, referring to the horrors committed by forces like Daesh in Iraq and Syria (Williams & Lewis, 2014; Vick, 2014). It is these tensions that Israel capitalizes on and through which the divide and rule strategy can succeed.

One month after Israeli media reported a steady rise in Christian recruits, military officials announced that they would further encourage this increase by sending all male Christian Arabs call-up notices to volunteer (Williams & Lewis, 2014). Around 800 invitations were sent to young Christians that year (Cohen, 2017). Those defending and condemning the voluntary service expressed contradicting narratives, with military officials stating the numbers of recruits would rise (Yashar, 2015), and others claiming it was still a minor phenomenon in comparison to those going for civil national service options (Williams & Lewis, 2014; Cohen, 2017). In 2015, the Israeli newspaper 'Israel National News' spoke of a record amount of expected recruits, predicting an unprecedented number of 200 recruits for the next year (Yashar, 2015). Reportedly, IDF seminars specifically organized for Arab Christian youths drew 48 participants in 2015 and included leadership courses, military preparation and trips to the North, Jerusalem and multiple churches (Yashar, 2015). The initiative of recruitment letters to Christians was eventually halted, only to be renewed in 2017.

In addition, the IDF reportedly launched a new program this year encouraging both Bedouins and Christians to enlist. As has already been mentioned, Bedouin units composed of volunteering soldiers have existed since 1948. Although their numbers are reported to have dropped after the 2000s due to deteriorating relations with the state (Kanaaneh 2003; Hadracha 2013), Bedouins have long been known and blamed for enlisting in the army voluntarily. Referring to the recent call-up notices sent to young Bedouins, the head of the Manpower Planning and Administration Brigade, Brigadier Gen Eran Shani, wrote:

"Volunteering for military service is a way you can give and contribute to both yourself and your country and even get something in return. I would be happy to see you volunteering for the IDF and contributing to the state, along with your own advancement and the development of your abilities.” (Cohen, 2017).

The recent invitation is accompanied by two offers: first, volunteers enjoy a reduced service of only two years; second, each participant of a three-month preparatory event will receive a truck driver's license (Cohen, 2017). This preparatory course reportedly includes basic non-combat training, Hebrew classes and personal development courses (Miller, 2017). Other measures to make voluntary service more attractive involve the promotion of Bedouins to higher ranks, like the recent appointment of Hasan Abu Salb as first Bedouin Colonel in the Israeli army. Abu Salb has personally committed himself to encouraging and integrating Bedouin youth in the army, by that serving the army's aim of tripling Bedouin enlistment.12 The initiatives follow concerns over disappointing recruitment numbers, with just 300 out of thousands joining on a yearly average (Miller, 2017). Willingness to serve has allegedly decreased after the two Intifadas (Kanaaneh, 2003) and because of specific incidents related to Bedouin communities. For example, earlier this year, tensions rose high when police tried to enforce house demolitions orders in the Bedouin village of Umm al-Hiran, resulting in the killing of a village resident as well as an army sergeant (Cook, 2017). Other explanations for lower recruitment levels are reportedly the disappointment of veterans who find no life improvements after their service to the state, racism by Jewish soldiers, the language barrier as well as solidarity with relatives in the West Bank and Gaza (Miller, 2017).

3.1.3. Palestinian/Arab Counter Narratives of Military Service and Draft Refusal

12 Times of Israel Staff (2017, February 7). IDF to promote first colonel from Bedouin community. Retrieved July 20, 2017, from Times of Israel: http://www.timesofisrael.com/idf-to-promote-first- colonel-from-bedouin-community/

Army service carried out by Palestinian Israeli citizens remains a marginal, though not irrelevant phenomenon. Recruitment numbers increase or decrease according to the specific temporal-geographical frame, as well as to who provides the numbers. The strong contradiction between identifying as Arab/Palestinian and meanwhile serving the Israeli military can be partly explained by the Israeli efforts to coopt and integrate these specific minority groups. Obligatory draft laws, recruitment letters, elite leaders' support and awarded favors are part of the explanation. The possibility of social and economic mobility – the well-known relation between soldiering and climbing the ladder – is another relevant, motivational factor.

It is however necessary to broaden this picture. Problematic about these general narratives is their tendency to approach minorities from a victim perspective, as well as provide largely economistic views on military service and refusal. While I do not contest the fact that these minorities usually occupy impoverished positions that leave them with limited options, they nevertheless struggle with multiple identities, complex reasoning and embattled decisions that exceed victim narratives. For example, in analyzing Palestinians who serve in the Israeli army or police forces, KANAANEH urges us to think beyond the dual paradigm of 'traitors' or 'accommodationists' (2003). In doing this, she rejects "studying the margin" as a group of victims related to through paternalistic empathy. Instead, the margin consists of complicated actors with contradictory and multiple loyalties, revealing convoluted questions about Israeli Palestinians and the extent to which they identify as "Israeli" (Kanaaneh, 2003).

Yet, while the research on incentives and reasons behind voluntary military service teaches us a lot about peripheral groups and questions of citizenship, it remains important not to overgeneralize the phenomenon. Moreover, while citizenship explanations are often used to explain the willingness to serve, we have shown that this becomes more and more contested. Not only do expectations often remain unfulfilled after service (Miller, 2017); there is also a growing tendency to point out the social benefits of rejecting military service. Farrag, Druze refuser and activist, explains:

"Mothers, fathers, they are worried that if you don't go to the army, you will have a difficult life, which is not so true. A refuser now has 3 years to do crucial things, to choose its path, to prepare for university. The refuser community is now often more educated, more successful in life than those who go to the army. Those who go to the army, they might have more financial security after their service, but the (Druze soldiers') academic level is a lot less high."

The case of the Druze and Circassians is in a sense convincingly different from that of other Palestinian Arabs as they are the only ones under obligatory service – thus the only ones truly exercising 'refusal'. The Druze have long been associated with loyalty to Israel, while refusal was only associated with a tiny minority. In fact, Israel and its advocates have emphasized close alliances between Jewish and Druze Israelis for decades. In 2001, Zeidan Atahsi, an associate of the Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs, wrote the following:

"It is the clear consensus among most Druze in Israel to continue to serve in the Israel Defense Forces, and that there will be no digression from the record of the past fifty years. The Israeli Druze have interests, connections, loyalty to their land, and a clearly recognized standing within Israel society, all things that the average Druze in Israel is not prepared to give up. (...) Today, compulsory military service for Druze is an accepted fact according to law and any questioning of this is not part of the Druze consensus." (Atashi, 2001).

It are these views – which not only live within Israel but also among Palestinians and Arabs in other countries – that shape the image of the Israeli Druze as loyal Israelis who have abandoned their Arab/Palestinian identity and solidarity. However, academic research has challenged this Druze-Zionist covenant and highlights the historical record of Druze resistance since 1948 (Yiftachel & Segal, 1998; Kaufman, 2010; Aboultaif, 2015). A particular form of resistance is military service rejection. Military refusal or evasion has always been around but only developed into an institutionalized and public tool over the last two decades. While some Druze refusers may have found support in existing Jewish refuser movements, it comes to no surprise that the Druze community

eventually felt the need to develop its own movement. Urfod, established by Farrag and other refusers in 2013, supports and assists Druze refusers in solidarity with the occupied Palestinians, as well as with the specific aim to reconnect with their Arab/Palestinian identity. Farrag explains the specificity of their work as follows:

"Most of the Jewish refusers are conscious refusers. They are against occupation. And we support that, but that is not the only issue for Urfod. The issue for Urfod is that the Druze community is targeted. Already from the beginning, we were one of the first victims of the divide and rule strategy to lose Palestinian identity. So this is what is important for Urfod: to reconnect to our Palestinian roots."

It could be argued that groups like Urfod are not in the position to challenge the policies of ruling power classes in Israel, as they do not pertain to Jewish groups themselves. For example, WEISS has stated that Arab military refusal or resistance is more understandable and automatically less challenging to the Israeli body politic (2017). After all, most Jewish Israelis do not expect any explanation of justification from Arab Israelis to why their controversial acts are justifiable (Weiss, 2017). This argument may be partially true; yet, the aim of this research is not to demonstrate possible efficacy or influence exercised by different refusal movements. Rather, I intent to delineate the complexity of overlapping identities and motivations that encourage individuals in the margin to serve or refuse. Druze who have been coopted, zionised and considered as loyal allies for decades, are offering a consistent alternative narrative through movements like Urfod. Moreover, both my fieldwork participants as academic literature note that Druze military refusal is a growing phenomenon (Weiss, 2017). Efforts to connect with Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza as well as with Arabs in other countries demonstrate a deliberate step back from cooptation and divide and rule policies. They also demonstrate how Druze are not victims in the margins void of ethical and political agency. After all, not only explanations of willingness of service, but likewise of refusal are usually based on economistic reasoning. In this sense, "refusal" in the margins is often ascribed to poverty and framed as dodging, as certain individuals cannot afford

spending three years in the military without providing for their families. It is not argued here that these factors do not play a role. Rather, I argue that they sometimes arise in combination with and need to be extended to other narratives of draft refusal that emphasize ethical or political, counter-hegemonic decision-making. The emergence of Urfod is a prominent example thereof.

3.2. Military Service by Jewish Groups in the Margin

One thing that becomes clear is that the contradictions and "embattled" identities do not solely characterize Israeli Palestinians. The identity crises that individuals experience after being confronted with military duties are not part of some Palestinian exceptionalism. Rather, they are inherent to contexts of power hierarchies – like colonialism – and the construction of identities in general (Kanaaneh, 2003). As has been discussed, the stories of Jewish refusers who feel uncomfortable with the occupation, militarization or violence in general, are often attacked by other Israelis on accusations of anti-Zionism or even anti-semitism. Moreover, we have seen how certain men and women feel uncomfortable with or disappointed by the hyper-masculine army standards and gendered characteristics of army service. Similarly, it has been argued that gay men in the army choose different behavioral adaptation strategies to these masculine standards, demonstrating the link between military service and the navigation of particular identities (Kaplan & Ben-Ari, 2000). Thus, human loyalties to nationalism and mechanisms behind identity construction are often more complex than we think (Kanaaneh, 2003).

It is now that I will turn to the less sensational, underexposed groups of Jewish actors and military refusers whose stories will further broaden this picture. Those operating outside of the Jewish ruling class do not only occupy different status positions but also distinct narratives of army service and rejection. In order to do so, the following section will include a general introduction on the position and identity struggles of Mizrahi and Ethiopian Jews in Israeli society. After that, their relation to military service and refusal

will be outlined.

In choosing Mizrahi and Ethiopian struggles, I follow the most prominent ethnic and racial lines of division that permeate Israeli society both passively and actively. However, ethnicity and race are not the only factors on which hierarchies are built. Gender, sexual orientation, class and religion are other, intersecting relations of power and oppression that define one's position in society. As race and class almost entirely overlap in Israel, it is not useful to discuss the lower classes as a separate category (Lavie, 2014). In terms of religious oppression, the Jewish (ultra-) Orthodox communities in Israel often occupy peripheral positions and know a long history of state and army dissent (Stadler, Lomsky- Feder & Ben-Ari, 2008; Stadler & Ben-Ari, 2010). The Haredi exemption is a regularly disputed political issue and heavily debated deal between the government and Haredi political parties (Levy, 2009). (Ultra-) Orthodox narratives of military service rejection differ from other narratives because they are generally based on religious arguments. Nevertheless, they are relevant and the Haredi struggle for exemption shows similarities with those of other marginalized Jewish groups. However, due to the limited scope of this paper, an extensive elaboration on the history and current status of religiously inspired military refusal will not be made.

3.2.1. Military Service and Citizenship: Mizrahi and Ethiopian Jews in Israel

3.2.1.1. Stigmatization, Racism and Identity Struggle

Mizrahi Jews in Israel

The largest division in Israel apart from the Israeli-Palestinian division, is the ethnic divide between Ashkenazi and Mizrahi Jews. The former is largely associated with arrival during the pre-state era, while the latter immigrated in large numbers after 1948, now constituting the majority of Jews in Israel. As founding fathers, the Ashkenazim were able to shape the state on Eurocentric principles, reflecting a Western political, cultural and economic heritage (Shavit & Yuchtman-Yaar, 2016). Hence, since their arrival, the

Mizrahi Jew has occupied the position of insider-outsider as a result of the duality of his Jewishness and roots in the Muslim or Arab world as well as in European borders of the former Ottoman Empire.13 Several authors have discussed this dual position and its consequences for Mizrahim in terms of citizenship, equality, political voice, rights, social mobility and resistance (Shohat, 1999; Yuchtman-Yaar, 2005; Lavie, 2014). Ethnographic research has shown that Mizrahim experience identity struggles, discrimination, physical violence, eviction, displacement, economical violence and state violence (Cohen, 2013). They are constantly battling a double consciousness and need to find creative ways to cope with this duality (Shohat, 1999; Cohen, 2013; Omer, 2015). While it is important to stress that the identity struggles and histories of each Mizrahi individual is complex and different, there are common marginalization and discrimination trends that affect most Mizrahi Jews.

Regardless of instances of Mizrahi counter-hegemonic resistance to these trends, many Mizrahim have adjusted themselves by asserting their Jewishness or through Ashkenazi assimilation (Shohat, 1999; Yuchtman-Yaar, 2005; Cohen, 2013; Omer, 2015). Since Arabness equals exlusion, many Mizrahim are associated with a kind of selbst-hass that translates in the rejection of their Arabness as well as the mimicking of Europeanized patterns, behavior, gestures and thinking (Shohat, 1999). Intra-Mizrahi differences do appear in terms of geographical positioning. For example, COHEN found that Mizrahim in peripheral villages have a different appreciation of their identity and community than those in urban sites likes Tel Aviv (Cohen, 2013). In this sense, the author states that assimilation is more prevalent in Tel Aviv because of the constant confrontation and negotiation with the Ashkenazi world. Mizrahim in Tel Aviv suburbs are often regarded as secondary citizens because of their poor living conditions and deemed undeserving and irresponsible in their constant interactions with Ashkenazi Jews (Cohen, 2013). Mizrahim

13 Under this section, we will include the discussion of Sephardi Jews. In the strictest sense, Sephardi Jews are Jews who were expelled from Spain and Portugal in the 15th century. In religious terms, the term Sephardim refers to all Jews who adhere to Sephardic rites and liturgy and includes most North African and Middle-Eastern Jews. In this sense, the Sephardim do not necessarily have a geographical link with the Iberian Peninsula but are simply "Jews of the Spanish rite". Following the broader meaning, Mizrahim and Sephardim are largely overlapping categories.

in peripheral villages like Kiryat Shemona may experience separation or isolation on a state level but not necessarily on a day-to-day basis (Cohen, 2013).

As a result, several authors and intellectuals have began to emphasize and integrate Arab and Oriental elements and histories in Israel, resulting in a true academization of the Mizrahi cause (Halper, Seroussi & Squires-Kidron, 1989; Shohat, 1999; Chetrit, 2000; Shafir & Peled, 2002; Ben-Dor, 2006; Moshe, 2008; Lital, 2009; Ben-Porat & Turner, 2011; Rosmer, 2014). OMER calls this process 'Hitmazrehut' or "Becoming of the East": the attempt to decolonize and transform sociopolitical theory and practice in Israel by redrawing from the orientalist positing of Israel in the West through the indigenization and localization of Israeliness (Omer, 2015, 1-2). These attempts to equalize power relations make it clear that the Ashkenazi dominance is more challenged than ever.

Nevertheless, it has been argued that a clear discrepancy exists between the academic field and the public opinion among Mizrahim (Lavie, 2011; Omer, 2015). For example, voting patterns show how Mizrahim in general tend to vote for more chauvinistic, Jewish ethno-nationalist agendas that not always seem to remedy their cause (Yuchtman-Yaar, 2005; Omer, 2015). Another expression of this "distancing" from one's ethnic roots can be found in the responses to their stigmatization. MIZRACHI and HERZOG found that when confronted with questions about their discrimination and stigmatization, Mizrahi Jews would fiercely deny any of these experiences on a personal level (2012). Instead, most of their participants did not talk about these experiences in first person, but rather referred to them in relation to friends and family. This is described as 'contingent detachment': the distancing of the individual from the ethnic group in order to cope with collective stigmatization (Mizrachi & Herzog, 2012). Moreover, the authors also noted a tendency of Mizrahi participants to link themselves with the state, state ideology and Zionism, by this countering Ashkenazi discrimination and positioning themselves as loyal members of the state project (Mizrachi & Herzog, 2012). Lastly, extreme anti-Arab and anti-assimilationist racist groups like Lehava and Kach have been know for attracting and receiving support from a certain section of Mizrahim (Omer, 2015). While the rhetoric of these groups represents a minority, they are abetted by a political landscape that is

increasingly dominated by ethnocentrism, religious messianism and secular ultra- nationalism (Omer, 2015, 18). Omer thus claims that these groups emerged out of a particular context that values Jewish chauvinistic ethnocentrism; ideals that often receive the supportive vote of many Mizrahim during the elections (2015). It is this what can be described as 'double consciousness': the tendency to internalize the social and cultural logic of the oppressor (Omer, 2015, 9).

Several authors have attempted to explain these contradictory observations that are associated with 'double consciousness'. Some have focused on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and the highlighted security narrative in Israel, decreasing hostility and disrespect towards Arabs and their culture (Kimmerling, 2001; Lavie, 2014). Through this narrative, Palestinian identities are silenced, while a presupposed unitary Jewish identity subsumes differential Jewish ethnicities (Lefkowitz, 2001). These accounts first of all claim that the powerful Israeli elite uses the theme of national security to de-emphasize Mizrahi issues and dissidence. For example, LAVIE argues that Mizrahi social protests are effectively crushed as the result of a national unity discourse vis-à-vis the Arab enemies (2014). At other times, the narrative focuses on what we have mentioned earlier: Mizrahim have willfully or forcefully dissociated themselves from their Arab background to become the 'loyal Israeli' and 'the good citizen' (Yuchtman-Yaar, 2005; Leibner, 2015; Omer, 2015; Shavit & Yuchtman-Yaar, 2016). A similar account offers a possible explanation for the lack of engagement with Palestinian issues, claiming that the average Mizrahi simply has "nothing to win" by future peace in the Israeli-Arab conflict (Smooha, 1998). In fact, this is amplified by the assumption that a peace agenda by Ashkenazim is a strategy further marginalizing Mizrahi grievances (Omer, 2015, 17). Although the Ashkenazi-Mizrahi distinction remains an important aspect of ethnic division in Israel, these analyses show how Jewish interethnic struggles are of secondary importance, while the commonality of Jewishness plays a more central role in collective and personal identity (Yuchtman-Yaar, 2005, Mizrachi & Herzog, 2012).

Ethiopian Jews in Israel

Israeli Ethiopian Jews navigate through very similar patterns. Most of them are descendants of the Beta Israel community in Ethiopia that made aliyah to Israel in two operations organized by the Israeli state: Operation Moses (1984) and Operation Solomon (1991) (Ben-Eliezer, 2008). There are now approximately 130.000 Ethiopian Jews in Israel (Jordan, 2016). Similar to Mizrahi studies, research on Ethiopian Jews has been emerging since the late 80's, covering topics on racially based discrimination, class position and identity struggles (Offer, 2004; Ben-Eliezer 2008; Mizrachi & Herzog, 2011; Chehata, 2012; Baratz & Kalnisky, 2017).

Although they suffer from several types of oppression, for example based on religion14, their phenotype continues to serve as a prominent factor of discrimination in their daily lives in Israel (Mizrachi & Herzog, 2011). Indeed, while it has been argued that Israel made the evolution from an ethno-nationalist to a multicultural, neoliberal society in the 70's and 80's, the reality of multiculturalism does not automatically erase or prevent cultural racism (Ben-Eliezer, 2008). In fact, Ethiopian Jews are racially discriminated against in education, housing, employment and in the military (Chehata, 2012). Moreover, research has provided evidence for the general disadvantaged socio- economic position that many Jewish Ethiopians – just like Mizrahim – inhabit (Offer,

2004).

The reaction of Ethiopian Jews to their stigmatization has been the topic of recent research initiatives (Mizrachi & Herzog, 2011; Guetzkow & Fast, 2016). While Mizrahim are often associated with denial of their peripheral position, Ethiopian Jews wield a specific discourse that avoids the use of language referring to their racial reality. This implies that they seek to deny themselves as objects of racial stigmatization (Mizrachi & Herzog, 2011), as "Others" who are perceived different because of their blackness. Instead, they tend to frame their stigmatization as a temporal consequence of their late arrival as "new" immigrants to Israel, with the firm believe that they will eventually be incorporated into a Jewish, color-blind, national collective (Mizrachi & Herzog, 2011;

14 The legitimacy and authenticity of Ethiopian Judaism remains contested by several Israeli rabbinical authorities today (Jordan, 2016).

Guetzkow & Fast, 2016). After all, referring to their racial otherness would downplay their membership in the Jewish collective and categorize them as outsiders. Just like Mizrahim, their belonging to the Jewish collective is of primary importance, while other identities and histories are largely subordinated. Their behavior is consequently accompanied by attempts to integrate and assimilate with this collective (Guetzkow & Fast, 2016).

3.2.1.2. Jewish Military Service along Ethnic Lines

The tendencies described above largely explain the willingness to serve in the military within these communities. Moreover, it has previously been argued that the republican contract still remained valuable for peripheral groups. Ashkenazi Jews decreasing motivation to fulfill their military duties since 1967 was the consequence of a quasi-failure of the republican contract: military service was no longer the primary way to maintain and enhance their privileged status (Levy & Mizrachi, 2008). A contrario, less privileged groups still viewed the military as an apparatus that can enhance one's socio-economic position in society (Offer, 2004). From these perspectives, it seems like the rising trend in military draft refusal has largely surpassed Mizrahi and Ethiopian communities in Israel. For example, LEVY argues that the general political-cultural decline in the legitimization of sacrifice led to an increase of army exemptions (2009). However, he adds that these exemptions were mainly the consequence of two growing phenomena: psychological exemptions and religious exemptions (Levy, 2009).

The exemption based on psychological considerations is generally associated with upper middle class individuals and requires psychiatric opinions and negotiation skills. One of my fieldwork participants, a young Jewish-Druze woman raised in the progressive, urban and middle-class environment of Tel Aviv, recounted her own process of negotiation. When after preliminary medical and physical objections and examinations she was still required to serve, she took her case to the Conscious Committee. This military board examines conscious refusals and evaluates the pacifist conscience for sincerity and truthfulness. "It was a waste of time. I knew the Conscious Committee would not accept

my case because I am not a pure pacifist. I am not doing this out of pacifism." Indeed, the yearly number of people who get exempted by the Committee is estimated to be very low. Moreover, the way the Conscious Committee decides whether or not you are in possession of this ‘conscious’ remains vague. WEISS explains how the Committee makes its decisions:

"... pacifist refusal based on principled objections to violence challenges the legitimacy of the state and the hegemonic moral order. As such, applicants who articulate their refusal in these terms are rejected by the military review board. By contrast, pacifist conscientious objection based in embodied visceral revulsion to violence does not challenge the state's existential basis and moral order; cases framed in these terms are granted exemption." (Weiss, 2014, Introduction).

In other words, exemption based on conscious can only be granted when it boils up from deep within the body and soul and is not directly linked to politics, circumstances or objections to known cases of violence committed by the Israeli state or its military. Due to this strict reasoning and my participant's anti-occupation stance, the request was denied by the Committee. The only track left was the one of 'psychological exemption': an exemption that was eventually granted to her. While she felt very uncomfortable with the situation and the prospects of serving in the army against her will, the participant admitted wielding additional tactics of exaggeration like fake crying and lousiness to present herself as a mentally unstable person. This demonstrates to what extent individuals go to receive an exemption: some would rather be labeled 'crazy' than serve in the Israeli Defense Forces. The track of exemption based on mental condition is thus a growing phenomenon but largely associated with middle and higher-class individuals. On the other side of the social spectrum, religious exemptions of Haredim15 explain a large portion of the total number of increasing exemptions (Levy, 2009).

15 Until the 80's, the Haredim generally consisted of Ashkenazim. However, since then, a growing number of Mizrahim have been "haredized" and dedicted themselves to the study of the Yeshiva, which provides a basic income (Levy, 2009). It is thus important to emphasize that when the 'Mizrahim' are discussed in this section, we mainly target Mizrahim that have not followed the Haredi exemption/refusal track.

Does this mean that non-Haredi, lower class groups with overlapping Mizrahi and Ethiopian identities are omnipresent in the army? Does the Jewish ethno-nationalist position ascribed to these groups lead to a complete lack of military service rejection? The contrary is true. Regardless of the growing numbers of psychological exemptions, it is still the privileged groups that serve, while many socio-economically weaker individuals remain outside of the military (Levy, 2009). While the IDF avoids releasing statistics on the ethnic component of army enlistees or non-enlistees, information on class status and geographical positioning indirectly provides us with useful insights. In 2006, the Central Bureau of Statistics released statistics of a social survey in which it compared the population of serving soldiers with a group of non-Haredi non-enlistees aged 20 to 24.16 Results showed that non-conscripts were less healthy, lower educated and had lower average incomes, regardless of the two or three year head start they had in the labor market as a result of their rejected military service (Levy, 2009). Moreover, LEVY argues that exemptions based on mental illness are largely an urban phenomenon, while exemptions in development towns are predominantly linked with low educational level, criminal record and the presence of Haredim (2009). It is these development towns that are mainly populated by Mizrahim (Yiftachel, 2000). Lastly, it is vital to mention that large number of marginalized individuals do not serve because they were not recruited after preliminary screenings during high school years. Hence, merely looking at refusal after recruitment does not provide us with the full picture.

Accordingly, WEISS has researched the narratives and perception by third groups of military refusal in the margins (2017). When asked about similarities between liberal Ashkenazi refusal and refusal from other groups, one participant of the former group responded:

"No. These other groups aren’t refusers, because it isn’t a matter of conscience. (...) the Mizrahim, most of them, anyway, they are not doing it for ethical reasons.

16 Central Bureau of Statistics (n.d.). Social Survey 2005. Retrieved July 12, 2017 from Israel Central Bureau of Statistics: http://www.cbs.gov.il/reader/?MIval=cw_usr_view_SHTML&ID=954. Data discussed by LEVY (2009).

They want to do other things, to work, also sometimes they have personal family problems or maybe drugs. " (Weiss, 2017, 59).

These stereotypical accounts of draft refusal in the margins are not uncommon in general Israeli discourse or the media. Moreover, they imply that refusal based on social or economic reasons is automatically void of ethical or counter-hegemonic stances (Weiss, 2017). Among others, this general discourse will be critically discussed in the following section.

3.2.1.3. Alternative Narratives of Jewish Military Refusers in the Margin

The previous discussion has left us with a dual narrative of military service and refusal in the margin. When individuals pertaining to disadvantaged groups decide to serve in the military, this is accordingly based on the assumed link between citizenship and soldiering, as well as on assimilation and integration tactics through which Jewish ethno-nationalist belonging is emphasized. When these individuals reject their army service, the hegemonic discourse in Israel explains these phenomena by referring to laziness, lousiness, poverty, ignorance, egoism or criminality, void from ethical or political reasoning (Levy, 2009; Weiss, 2017).

However, one must nuance both trends. First of all, attempts to fit in and improve one's status through emphasizing and cultivating Jewish belonging as well as veteran status do not equal unconditioned state support. The understanding of Mizrahi and Ethiopian Jews as homogenous groups that practice eternal loyalty to the Jewish state and its army is a myth. Both Shohat and Ben-Eliezer talk about the construction of a "hybrid identity": Mizrahi and Ethiopian Jewish identity formation in the first place entails a process of negotiation, ranging from assimilation to resistance strategies (Shohat, 1999; Ben- Eliezer, 2008). Thus, while immigrants have been met with processes of assimilation and discrimination, today it is more important than ever to emphasize their agency in emerging sites of dissidence. This resistance in the margin is not new17, however,

17 For example, the Israeli Black Panthers were Mizrahi activists that fought against ethnic discrimination by the Ashkenazi ruling class in the 1970s (Lubin, 2016).

marginalized groups increasingly organize protests and voice their concern about their hardships (Leibner, 2015). Protests have erupted in both in Mizrahi and Ethiopian Jewish communities to highlight differential sites of oppression, ranging from police violence and discrimination to the lack of state investigation in the disappearance of Yemeni babies 70 years ago (Frantzman, 2015; Noy, 2017). Among others, military refusal has been wielded as a tactic of resistance (infra).

Secondly, the aim of the following discussion is to show how our current understanding of Israeli military refusal in the margins is limited. It is an often ignored, underestimated and misunderstood phenomenon, both in public discourse as in academic literature. Through the use of limited academic literature as well as journalistic interviews and articles, the motives and incentives behind military refusal by Mizrahi and Ethiopian Jews will be discussed, with a specific emphasis on their agency. While their backgrounds and narratives show multiple similarities, the two groups will be discussed separately. The aim here is to think beyond conscientious objection and anti-occupation refusal as the sole motor behind Jewish military dissent, as well as complement socio-economic "dodge narratives" of military refusal.

Mizrahi Jews in Israel

In contrast to Ashkenazi refusers, Mizrahim who refuse their military service have no institutionalized organizations that advocate for refusal and protect their community members. However, it has been argued that refusal in Mizrahi communities is a common and widespread phenomenon (Levy, 2009; Amor, 2010; Weiss, 2017). In addition, Mizrahi refusal differs from Ashkenazi conscientious objection because it often happens in a non-publicized way, which we have earlier described as 'gray refusal'. This process happens behind the scenes and entails negotiations or exaggerating arguments like job expectations or illness (Linn, 1996). Mizrahim often fear that rejection of military service might impede future job perspectives, which is why many will keep their decision under the radar (Weiss, 2017). Because of this, a serious lack of understanding of the real motives, obstacles and thinking patterns behind one's refusal decision exists. Moreover,

it is the silenced and underexposed nature of gray refusal that produces stereotypes framing Mizrahi refusal as egotistical or void of ethics (Weiss, 2017). After conducting ethnographic interviews, WEISS pointed at familial obligations and kinship as the fundamental deciding factors behind Mizrahi military service refusal (2017). In this sense, Mizrahim place their obligations as family provider above those of soldiering (Weiss, 2017). The author thus initially confirms that socio-economic obstacles lay at the basis of refusal in the margins. However, there is more complexity to add to this picture.

First of all, one interlocutor in the author's research expressed his anger with the institution, as it had not been able to move his (family's) situation forward. Military service was rather described as a waste of time, because when the individual returns home, he finds even more poverty and chaos. This anger was fuelled by the army's denial of the interlocutor's exemption request. This made him to state: "I just hate the army... They don't care." This is what I have previously described as refusal emerging from disappointment with the failure of the assumed link between soldiering and citizenship. It is not only demonstrated here that this link is a myth to a certain extent, but also that military service can equal an outright deterioration of one's family's socio-economic position.

Secondly, other stories demonstrate different incentives behind army dissent by Mizrahim. While some Mizrahim strongly supported the military and its activities, others voiced clear condemnations of both the state and its military. For example, while social conditions are cited as the main explanation, others described unease with the army being an "Ashkenazi institution of oppression" and made general references to discrimination inside and outside the army (Weiss, 2017). For example, refusal can be the result of Mizrahim realizing that the army reinforces discrimination by letting them fulfill subservient jobs, while the white-collar jobs are only available to the already privileged (Sasson-Levy, 2003; Weiss, 2017). This is in accordance with the literature that describes the Israeli military as a mechanism that produces and maintains ethnic and class hierarchies, regardless of the efforts by Israel to present the IDF as the "people's army" (Levy & Sasson-Levy, 2008; Kachtan, 2012). AMOR calls this type of resistance 'social refusal': a muted form of military refusal that in itself entails a rejection of serving

the state or society (2010). While other groups and general Israeli discourse denies Mizrahi refusers their agency, these accounts of refusal show the ethical or political components that complement the socio-economic narratives. These narratives broader our view and go beyond the stories of obstacles beyond one's control. Indeed, military refusal in the margins is more than the result of an insurmountable force majeur that keeps individuals from fulfilling their duties. Moreover, these stories complement and surpass stereotypes of criminality, drug abuse, poverty, lousiness or poor education.

Lastly, one must notice the general framework in which these stories are usually recounted. In one interview by WEISS, an acquaintance of the refuser in question interrupted the conversation to emphasize the good behavior and respectability of the young refuser, who did not refuse because he wanted to "laze about at home" (Weiss, 2017, 58). It becomes clear that his acquaintance does not want the refuser to be portrayed as "the bad citizen" for refusing his army service. This demonstrates the hybrid identity often ascribed to marginalized groups: the Mizrahi individual finds himself constantly navigating through patterns ranging from resistance to loyalty and good citizenship (Shohat, 1999; Ben-Eliezer, 2008; Levy & Sasson-Levy, 2008). The stories of Mizrahi refusers vary from accounts of loyal patriotism to public critique of the Israeli military and government policies (Weiss, 2017). It is this ambiguity that characterizes the behavior and decision-making of many individuals pertaining to marginalized communities in Israel.

Ethiopian Jews in Israel

To a large extent, the analysis above applies to military service rejection by Ethiopian Jews. However, we have already mentioned that Ethiopian Jews openly suffer from additional, race-based oppressions. It is for this reason that their alternative narratives of draft refusal will be discussed separately.

Peripheral groups in Israel have increasingly taken to the streets to highlight their struggles and ask for support from the state. These movements have highlighted various issues, ranging from socio-economic struggles to discrimination (Leibner, 2015;

Frantzman, 2015). Accordingly, in 2015, unprecedented numbers of Ethiopian Jews joined large protests in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem against police violence and racism. The protests were initiated after a shocking video emerged in which a Jewish soldier from Ethiopian decent was severely beaten by two Israeli policemen. The event sparked outrage and raised many questions on racism, military service and citizenship in the Jewish Ethiopian community. Through the analysis of statements made by Ethiopian Jews before, during and after these protests in journalistic interviews, it becomes clear what is at stake for them.

In terms of socio-economic obstacles to military service, the conclusions made for Mizrahi refusers largely apply here. Moreover, what is particularly striking about army service by Ethiopian Jews is the alarming number of incarcerated soldiers. Shocking numbers reveal that around 30% of Ethiopian Jewish men are sent to military prison during their service; numbers that are larger than in any other drafted group (Cohen, 2014). A great proportion of the total amount of incarcerations is the consequence of taking unauthorized leave (Cohen, 2014). Economic and social struggles at home can make the period of army service extremely distressing, as soldiers are only paid around $100 a month. Because soldiers with this background often feel the need to fulfill familial obligations, it leads them to take up after-duty jobs, turn up late or remain absent (Frantzman, 2015). Many argue that the mass incarceration of soldiers from Ethiopian decent is rooted in Israeli ignorance and racism, with army officials lacking understanding of their situation and denying requests of exemption or authorized leave (Ginsburg, 2014). This, in turn, can lead to even more frustration and cause the soldier to vacate his military position for good.

Racist stigma affecting Ethiopian Jews inside and outside the IDF can thus directly result in tacit military dissent that surpasses mere economic issues. In justifying these acts of resistance, Ethiopian Jews explicitly draw on the ethno-republican contract by referring to their previous military service and loyalty to the state. The fact that their loyalty has not been rewarded by upward mobility and that (ex-) soldiers still have to deal with racist police violence is perceived as outright abandonment and omission by the state. For example, in one interview, one female protestor was reported shouting: "My blood is

good enough for army service, but not good enough after." (Frantzman, 2015). Another individual describes how he was in the Golani army unit but still cannot get a job (Frantzman, 2015).

In a video interview by David Sheen, two Jewish Ethiopian reservists follow a very similar discourse (Sheen, 2015). The interview displays an interesting case study for this research as the interlocutors publicly defend their call for refusal of reserve service as an act of resistance against police violence and racism. A man named Avishal Malson Tzaghon explains why he carried out his first three years of service, only after to refuse as a reservist soldier:

"We enlist in order to give our best to the army. For us, the army is the main event. Everyone in Israel does it. It's part of our entry into Israeli society. It's our obligation and we do it. (...) I served in the army. I fulfilled my obligation. Now about reserve duty. For those of us with wives and children it's a bit annoying. It means leaving your work, leaving your life. We have no problem with contributing to the army; we enlisted in the army. But in our private lives, our rights aren’t even crushed — they don’t even exist”.18

The failure of the republican contract and expectations surrounding it are very clearly outlined by Tzaghon. His story is immersed in a sense of betrayal. Hence, the display of a hybrid identity emerges: resistance tactics and state loyalty are well balanced and not mutually exclusive; the Ethiopian Jewish loyalty to the state is not blind and has its limits. Accordingly, the refusal advocated here is not framed in terms of absolute refusal but rather applies to those who have already proved themselves as "good citizens" through soldiering. Rejection of military reservist service is only justified because one has already sacrificed and put his life on the line, but gained nothing in return. These testimonies demonstrate once more that the failing connection between soldiering and citizenship gives rise to counter-hegemonic resistance from groups that are otherwise perceived as ultra-loyal to the state apparatus.

18 Sheen, D. (2015, April 6). Ethiopian Refuseniks. Retrieved July 9, 2017 from Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YTxqlO8nAd8, min. 1:00.

3.2.2. Beyond the Mosaic of Identities and Discourse

The previous section demonstrates how Mizrahi and Ethiopian Jewish communities are not homogeneous groups void of resistance. When their agency translates into draft refusal, their justification narratives go beyond those of poor victims whose lives are completely defined by the peripheral position they live in. It is not argued here that socio- economic elements do not play a role in their motives behind refusal, nor that all refusers in the margins consequently vacate the ethno-nationalist beliefs they are often associated with. Rather, hybrid identities balance the deep desire for Jewish belonging and integration with a counter-hegemonic discourse emphasizing self-worth, citizenship and rights. Hence, these embattled identities are neither exceptional, nor neutral or apolitical: they clearly stand in relation to the state and its cultural hegemony (Kanaaneh, 2003; Weiss, 2017).

While these group tendencies have been outlined and broadened, it is nonetheless important to de-essentialize them. For example, while it is not a common trend, I have interviewed a Mizrahi activist who selectively refused his military service after being confronted with a roadblock that he deemed a "collective punishment" to Palestinians. In addition, refusal by Ashkenazi, secular middle class youngsters is not always based on conscientious objection. Some are simply not interested in serving in the military and want to pursue other things in life. Others might occupy lower class positions, which leave them with other incentives of military service or refusal. It needs to be reminded that regardless of pertaining to a certain group, individuals sometimes operate outside of the tendencies associated with this group.

Nonetheless, general group tendencies exist and cannot be ignored. If they make one thing very clear, it is the discrepancy between refusal narratives of groups that operate at the direct opposite sites of the social spectrum. While these groups share a common strategy in voicing dissent – in this case the rejection of obligatory military service – the motives behind and scope of their draft refusal are shaped by dissimilar and divergent patterns. The disparity of their claims demonstrates that many internal rifts permeate

Israeli society apart from the external ones. The question then remains if the use of a common strategy can function as a gateway to bring those contradictory narratives closer. Is there any commonality at all between refusers that occupy opposite positions and military service refusal narratives in Israel? Are movements able to tackle the obstacles and contradictions that the phenomenon of draft refusal so clearly uncovers? Lastly, what connections can be made to the Palestinian "Other" that is living under the occupation? By drawing on feminist conceptions of intersectionality, I hope to clarify some of these questions in the final chapter of this paper.

4. Intersectionality of Movements and Struggles: Draft Refusal as Commonality

The concept of intersectionality knows a long history of academic debating on its meaning, scope, limitations and practical utility. Originally, the term was coined by Kimberle Crenshaw to address the lack of attention to intersections of race and sex in feminist and antiracist theory (Crenshaw, 1989). Accordingly, women suffering from multiple oppressions find little relief in feminism that does not address racism, or antiracist theory and politics that do not address sexism. Moreover, these oppressions cannot be separated from one another and at certain instances reinforce each other.

"Black women sometimes experience discrimination in ways similar to white women's experiences; sometimes they share very similar experiences with Black men. Yet often they experience double-discrimination – the combined effects of practices, which discriminate on the basis of race, and on the basis of sex. And sometimes, they experience discrimination as Black women – not the sum of race and sex discrimination, but as Black women." (Crenshaw, 1989, 149).

While CRENSHAW initially applied the concept on the scale of bodies and personal experiences, the scope of intersectionality today has been broadened. First of all, the initial literature on intersectionality mainly exposed the intersections of race, gender and

class, while today, other social justice struggles like religion, sexuality, ethnicity, age, disability and many more are addressed (Jones, Misra & McCurley, 2013). More importantly, intersectionality does not exclusively stand for the recognition of the many oppressions that shape one's identity, but it also became a tool to analyze how different struggles lived by different people are interconnected. Among others, Angela Davis encourages us to think along the lines of creating a framework that allows organization around separate social justice issues, connecting them across communities and national borders (Davis, 2016). For example, Davis has advocated for the establishment of theoretical and practical alliances between Palestinians and Black Lives Matter, on the basis of their common oppressions resulting from racist police and state violence (Davis, 2016). In a historic manifesto published in August 2016, the US Movement for Black Lives Matter announced its support for the Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions (BDS) movement and declared its opposition to the US support of and complicity in the "genocide taking place against the Palestinian people."19 The manifesto was followed by several allied protests in both the US and Palestine/Israel, with activists carrying banners exposing the intersections between the two oppressed communities (Isaacs, 2016).

While intersectionality in theory advocates or prescribes this kind of solidarity and connectivity of struggles across borders, the practical feasibility thereof is often challenged (Nassar, 2017). In applying its broader conception to Israel, the phenomenon of draft refusal confronts us with multiple struggles and claims by groups that seem entirely disconnected from one another. While multiple issues have been raised in order to justify military service refusal, the two most prominent narratives are usually linked to groups that hardly interact with one another. Middle and upper class, liberal Ashkenazi Jews are largely associated with conscientious objection and the Palestinian cause, while disadvantaged ethnic groups are motivated by socio-economic obstacles as well as stigmatizing and racist tendencies. According to WEISS, these opposite groups inhabit 'competing ethical regimes': not only do they adhere to separate justification mechanisms to explain their refusal; they also tend to reject or diminish the legitimacy of each other's

19 The Movement for Black Lives. (n.d.). Invest-Divest. Retrieved July 23, 2017 from The Movement for Black Lives: https://policy.m4bl.org/invest-divest/

motives behind draft refusal (Weiss, 2017). Hence, it seems like the only thing these groups have in common is their tendency to turn to military dissidence to express their frustration, whether this is done publicly or tacitly.

What follows now is an overview of the obstacles in seeking connections and commonalities between the Palestinian social struggles and the Mizrahi/Ethiopian Jewish struggles that are so clearly exposed in the different draft refusal narratives. In addition, the failures and responsibilities of Ashkenazi conscientious objectors and the Israeli left in general to address intersectionality will be analyzed. Finally, I will discuss recent intersectional efforts, and investigate how they can shed light on the future of internal and external rifts in Israel.

4.1. The Intersections between Mizrahim, Ethiopian Jews and Palestinians

In previous chapters, it has been demonstrated that practice and theory in Israel do not always overlap. Marginalized groups in Israel generally adhere to Jewish ethno- nationalist beliefs and chauvinistic voting patterns, as well as state loyalty and Zionism (supra). Likewise, individuals from these groups often distance themselves from their ethnic and racial identities, as well as position themselves against Israel's integration into the Middle East (Hermann, 2010). Since Arabness equaled exclusion, many Mizrahim for example are associated with a kind of selbst-hass that translates in the rejection of their Arabness as well as the mimicking of Europeanized patterns, behavior, gestures and thinking (Shohat, 1999).

One of the more prominent observations linked to these tendencies is the fact that many Israelis pertaining to disadvantaged communities are reluctant to recognize and address the Palestinian struggle (Omer, 2015). Accordingly, these individuals see Palestinians and Arabs as their enemy, instead of the hegemon that has always put them in subsidiary positions. As has previously been explained, this stance is the result of a complex variety of factors that are directly linked to their marginality and fragile citizenship status. In fact,

authors have argued that it is this marginality that prevents the very formation of alliances and peace initiatives (Smooha, 1998; Omer, 2015).

Nonetheless, academics have established links and commonalities between these communities and their shared hardships along the lines of intersectionality (Shohat, 1999; Lavie, 2011; Omer, 2015). Especially feminist scholarship stands at the forefront of exposing these intersections and call for Mizrahi studies as a relational field of inquiry vis- à-vis the Palestinians living in Israel and in the West Bank. Not only do Mizrahi Jews share their Arab roots with Palestinians, both groups suffer from stigmatization and Israeli state violence (Cohen, 2013). For example, Mizrahi communities were reported to be forcefully removed from their homes, accompanied by demolitions, police interference, rezoning and a lack of compensation (Cohen, 2013). Such experiences are not unlike those of Palestinians in Israel and in the West Bank, both in the past as today. In addition, both Palestinians and Jewish, non-white citizens suffer from institutional and everyday racism and have their own mechanisms to cope with it (Mizrachi & Herzog, 2012).

Where resistance against these tendencies by disadvantaged communities in Israel emerge – for example through draft refusal – one can wonder to what extent the social struggle is connected to the Palestinian struggle. Analyzing military refusal narratives in the margins can shed some light on the issue. In doing so, two vital questions need to be addressed: 1) How is Jewish military refusal in the margins connected to Palestinian justice struggles?; and 2) How is Jewish military refusal in the margins connected to Israeli conscientious objection or the Israeli left? Both questions are addressed by the two Jewish Ethiopian draft refusers in the interview by David Sheen.20

20 It needs to be emphasized that large, ethnographic research on Israeli draft refusal is necessary to investigate these intersections, as this kind of refusal is not usually publicized. However, due to the lack thereof, I will draw on this exceptional case in which military refusal was publicly advocated, as well as the limited ethnographic research that has produced similar conclusions.

In terms of connections with Palestinians, the interlocutors follow a rather practical, organizational approach. For example, at one point, Tzaghon refers to similar treatment at protests:

"At the Ethiopian protests, we suddenly noticed that all the police equipment, from their apparel to their weapons, were exactly the same as those used against the Palestinians. (...) Okay – there are many parallels here – even with all the political differences. I am only looking at social issues." Tzaghon continues: "With all due respect, we don't want to mention them in relation to us, but we have to learn from the Palestinians. The Palestinians know how to go abroad to make their case".21

In making their case known abroad, Tzaghon explains how Israel will be pressured to acknowledge that racism is present in their society.

"At the UN, the State of Israel always says, "We're not racist, we're a democratic country, etc." Because the Palestinians always put pressure on them, so Israel always denies it. Now we have no choice but to say: "Yes, you are (racist)." And if other countries like the US, the UK, and other democratic countries hear this, they'll say: "You say you're not (racist). Maybe you're not racist towards Palestinians, as they claim you are. But your own citizens claim that you are (racist)! What's going on there?""22

This narrative seems to imply that the Jewish Ethiopian claims are more legitimate or trustworthy than the Palestinian (Israeli) voice, because they are Israel's "own citizens". This is similar to the claim that argues that Arab military dissent – for example expressed by Druze refusers – is not as challenging to the Israeli body politic as military dissent by Jewish individuals (supra).

It becomes clear that, regardless of a limited recognition of similarities, these refusers do not politically align themselves with Palestinian social struggles, nor recognize them as legitimate. It is exactly this kind of identity politics that has been criticized because of its

21 Sheen, D. (2015, April 6). Ethiopian Refuseniks. Retrieved July 9, 2017 from Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YTxqlO8nAd8, min. 32:40. 22 Ibid, min. 34:30.

narrow focus. However, what follows is a particularly insightful statement that partly explains this lack of intersectionality:

“I only wish that I could care about politics! If I cared about politics, about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, it would mean that my own situation in Israel is good enough for me to be able to. But my situation isn’t good enough for that. I’m still stuck in my own niche; I’m not there yet.”23

This position seems to confirm the claim that marginality and stigmatization of communities in itself prevent coalition building.

With regards to the second question, the interview points in a similar direction: the Jewish Ethiopian refuser discredits the accusations of leftism.

"What does this have to do with the left? In our group, there are probably more rightist than leftists. It has nothing to do with political opinions. (...) That's why were are always asked who is funding us. The New Israel Fund? The Leftists? Surely the anarchists are with you. What, you really think we are that stupid? That we can't organize our own protest? That we don't have enough brains to say "Enough is enough. Let's do something about it"? (...) No, it's us. We're smart enough, we understand the situation well enough."24

This statement not only attempts to separate the refuser from leftist charges, but clearly emphasizes their rational agency in resisting the state and police. It contributes to the analysis in this paper that acknowledges military refusal as a process of rational decision- making, reflecting ethical or political stances that embody resistance to hegemonic patterns in society. The Ethiopian Jewish refuser denies cooptation or assimilation, and establishes its own voice of dissent beyond dodge narratives. At the same time, he draws on initial commitment to the army and state to justify his resistance (supra.)

So far, it seems that the academically exposed intersections between Palestinians and people of color in the US are not incorporated in the struggles of Israeli 'Black Lives

23 Ibid, min. 36:05. 24 Ibid, min. 35:55.

Matter' movements of the Ethiopian Jews. Nor did the established similarities between Mizrahi Black Panther movements and US civil rights movements translate into a framework of Mizrahi-Palestinians solidarity today.25 Regardless of how well connected these struggles may seem, the specific conditions that shaped Mizrahi and Ethiopian Jewish identities largely prevent them from seeking these alliances today. Moreover, their narratives of military refusal clearly disregard the Israeli Left. In the following section, I will further discuss the failure of Israeli conscientious objectors and the Ashkenazi left to make these alliances possible.

4.2. The Complicity of Israeli Conscientious Objectors and the Ashkenazi Left

In Israel, a growing trend of criticism among Mizrahim exposes the perceived hypocrisy of the Ashkenazi left (Komash, 2005). Surprisingly, this critique comes both from those who dissociate themselves from the Palestinian struggle as those who associate themselves with it. With her ethnographic research on 'competing ethical regimes', WEISS demonstrates how different groups delegitimize other group's draft refusal narratives. The liberal Ashkenazi hypocrisy that is mentioned here refers to the lack of their investment and interest in inequalities among Jews, while the struggles of Palestinians receive all attention (2017). The Mizrahi refusers that were interviewed by the author were usually appalled at the comparison with liberal conscientious objectors, stating that these refusers are confused about their loyalties and forgot "who their brothers are" (WEISS, 2017). A general sense of being ignored by the Ashkenazi left is embedded in these refusal narratives, as well as those of general Mizrahi discourse today (Komash, 2005). The growing criticism has been voiced through several platforms, ranging from the media and academic literature to art and music (Shohat, 1999; Komash, 2005; Omer, 2015; Hasan, 2015; Dabush, 2017). For example, the provocative poem by Roy Hasan captures the unease and addresses liberal Ashkenazi privilege. In his poem, Hasan

25 The Mizrahi Black Panther movement actually did adhere to an intersectional framework and made connections to the PLO in the '70s (Lubin, 2016). However, due to the discussed complexities shaping Mizrahi "selbst hass", these intersections are not part of general Mizrahi discourse today.

questions the sincerity of liberal Ashkenazi Jews, who allegedly will not make peace in the end because it will attract too many "arsim"26.

"I just love those sensitive Jews who demonstrate against the Occupation and go home to their Arab house in Yaffo which they call Yaffa with a melancholy glance of shared fate over hummus at Abu something-or-other licking their lips with every wipe of the pita and murmuring about ending the Occupation, dreaming of two states for two nations because – walla – (they fumble for the Arabic) Occupation Occupation (or nakba nakba): next to them but not with them, they’re Arabs after all.

An Arab friend said about them once that they’ll never make peace, because if there’ll be peace all the arsim will come."27

In an interview, the translator of the poem, Ron Makleff, explains what Hasan is aiming at: “I think the poem’s importance is in its criticism of how the secular Ashkenazi left is simultaneously hypersensitive to Palestinian historical grievances against the Israeli state, but dismissive of the religious, cultural, and historical grievances of Mizrahi Jews against the Israeli state. The poem juxtaposes those two aspects of old-school Ashkenazi leftism in a way which, to me, reveals just how deeply

26 Arsim is a derogatory term usually directed at Mizrahi Jews that stereotypes lower-class young men, their clothes, taste in music and so on. 27 Excerpt from Hasan, R. (2015, July 12). If There'll Be Peace, All The Arsim Will Come. Translation by Makleff, R. Retrieved July 25, 2017 from www.972mag.com: https://972mag.com/if-therell-be-peace-all-the-arsim-will-come/108774/

implicated that Ashkenazi left is in creating an unequal, occupying, intolerant Israel.”28

Very similar criticism is aimed at conscientious objection, as it is usually a right exercised by individuals of the same liberal, Ashkenazi circle. Being able to publicly refuse based on conscious or in defense of the Palestinian cause is labeled as an "Ashkenazi privilege", either because disadvantaged groups do not have the socio-economic background that allows them to refuse, or because these groups have other things to worry about than the politics of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Hence, the fact that some groups are not associated with conscientious objection is directly linked to their marginal background – a background that is simultaneously ignored by those same conscientious objectors.

One of my interlocutors, Mizrahi activist Tom Mehager, voiced this concern as follows:

"The public debate regarding Tair Kaminer's refusal29 to serve in the army illustrates, yet again, the color-blindness of the Israeli Left. Time after time the Left ignores the Ashkenazi-Mizrahi elephant in the room, effectively alienating themselves from the majority of Israeli society. However, it doesn’t prevent the Left’s representatives from praising themselves as the standard bearers of enlightenment." (Mehager, 2016).

Indeed, general discourse on Israeli conscientious objectors tends to reproduce some kind of liberal, Ashkenazi monopoly on ethics and enlightened benefaction of which non- Ashkenazi groups are excluded. Mehager adds to this that the Israeli establishment "never saw the Mizrahi youth as having the potential to acquire 'ethical values' or 'political and social awareness'" (Mehager, 2016). As previously has been

28 Quote from the article by Margolin, M. (2015, September 3). The Mizrahi Thorn in the Side of Israeli Left. Retrieved July 24, 2017 from Forward: http://forward.com/culture/320255/the-mizrahi- thorn-in-israels-leftist-side/ 29 Tair Kaminer is one of my research interlocutors who refused her army service because of the occupation. She spent almost 150 days in military prison, which turned her into the longest- serving female conscientious objector in Israel.

mentioned, this exclusion from 'the ethical' does not solely apply to discourse on soldiers in the margin, but also on draft refusers (supra). However, academics counter this discourse by claiming that refusal based on other reasons than the occupation is not automatically neutral or void of ethics (Amor, 2010; Weiss, 2015). It is not argued here that this refusal is expressed in an explicit political manner – although this is sometimes the case. Rather, draft refusal narratives in the margins are usually shaped by a general sense of cynicism vis-à-vis hegemonic patterns in society, which turn military service into an ethical problem (Weiss, 2015). Similarly, public refusal – and for that matter tacit refusal – is not indicative of the degree to which one challenges the hegemony (Weiss, 2015). Accordingly, WEISS argues that traditional ideas on the dualism of hegemony and (public) resistance fail to shed clarity on the complexity of the tacit zone that lies in between those two opposites: a zone that embodies alternative dissent from the state's interests or policies (2015).

The disconnections between disadvantaged Israeli communities on the one hand and the Israeli Left and Palestinian cause on the other hand, shed a somber light on the practical feasibility of intersectionality. However, one must be reminded of the fact that intersectionality does not reflect actual reality, but rather is meant to be a conceptual lens and organizational tool to give social justice struggles more credibility and power. Hence, intersectionality in the first place captures an enduring process of constant self-criticism and rediscovering of the scope of one's movement, struggle, strategies and goals. In the next and last sections, I will demonstrate how feminists are sculpting this process and are playing a vital role in building solidarity movements, eventually influencing other groups in Israel. However, in doing so, one must recall that these initiatives are still marginal and in themselves belong to radical, and often privileged voices. Hence, while acknowledging the presence and importance of intersectional work, the discussion above has demonstrated that intersectionality itself functions "in the margins", and does not reflect a general consensus.

4.3. Intersectional Initiatives and the Role of Feminism

Regardless of its increasing relevance in the media and literature, intersectionality in Israel is not a new, foreign implant that has only emerged the past decade. With regards to Mizrahi-Palestinian connections, awareness of shared Arab roots and discrimination struggles goes back to the early 1950's. After being confronted with the hardships that people were suffering in transit camps, Arabic-speaking Jewish intellectuals created Al Jadid, a magazine that featured poems and stories written by Mizrahi Jews and Palestinians (Samuel, 2016). Through these writings, they highlighted anti-Arab discrimination present in the newly established state, reportedly “out of the spirit of [creating] Arab-Jewish solidarity" (Roby, 2015; Samuel, 2016). For example, Iraqi-born Latif Dori reportedly spoke about "two brotherly peoples” and encouraged young Mizrahi and Arab teens to establish a joint socialist youth movement supporting a mutual understanding between the two groups (Roby, 2015; Samuel, 2016). These intellectual efforts soon turned into street protests, with police forces cracking down on Arab protestors and breaking the solidarity spirit.

However, this joint spirit gradually disappeared. After decades of anti-Arab sentiment, Mizrahim could no longer simultaneously represent themselves as 'good Jews' and Arab Jews and felt the need to secure their positions. This does not mean that decades have gone by without any alliance building initiatives. One of the more prominent actions was undertaken in the 90's by the Mizrahi Democratic Rainbow, that tried to remind their fellow Mizrahim of the era in which they stood hand in hand with the Palestinians (Omer, 2015). Regardless of the consciousness-raising efforts, the MDR never gained large- scale success, which suggests that this kind of activism is rather produced by a radical – often-feminist – circle (Omer, 2015). Accordingly, feminist author and activist with the MDR Smadar Lavie recently stated that the group has lost its support and that the intersectional model is “romantic, but not viable” in today's Israel (Samuel, 2016).

Intersectionality between Mizrahim and Palestinians today is mainly established and supported by a minority producing cultural, artistic and progressive academic efforts. For example, more recently, Achoti – the organization 'For Women in Israel', published a book that highlights the relations between Palestinian and Mizrahi culture through the reproduction of visual art works (Shula, 2015). Poets like Roy Hasan (supra) and Adi

Keissar are contributing to a Mizrahi cultural renaissance that puts their Arab identity in the spotlight (Samuel, 2016). Recent musical initiatives in the Mizrahi southern town of Sderot express a passion for singing in Arab dialects and incorporate cultural counter- hegemonic narratives (Saada-Ophir, 2007). The increasing academic and cultural efforts that reclaim Mizrahiness or 'Himazrehut' like OMER described, are often inseparable from making connections with the Palestinian cause. However, one must also recognize that reclaiming Arab Mizrahiness does not always equal solidarity with the Palestinians. In fact, LAVIE has argued that the emphasis on Mizrahiness and the tendency of the Israeli Left to privilege Palestinian social struggles over their own, can also result in Mizrahi silence on Palestine (Samuel, 2016). Similarly, OMER warns readers that if Hitmazrehut is an exclusively sectoral process, it will remain entrenched with orientalist, Euro-Zionist discriminatory ideas (Omer, 2015).

While Palestinian-Mizrahi intersectionality in practice remains marginal, this overview shows how alliances have always been made in Israel. What is more absent is the Ashkenazi-Mizrahi solidarity in fighting the everyday Mizrahi struggles. Considering that the Israeli leftist 'peace camp' is largely suffering from accusations of color blindness to Israel's domestic oppressions, it comes to no surprise that few Mizrahi and Ethiopian Jews are seduced by its political agenda.

Again, feminist authors are the ones going against the lack of solidarity between the two groups. For example, feminist authors draw on the traditional conception of intersectionality to expose the issues that arise in Ashkenazi-led feminist movements who automatically link their feminist struggle to the anti-occupation struggle (Lavie, 2011; Natanel, 2012). LAVIE argues that Ashkenazi feminist peace movements have failed to weave itself in the oriental world with its cultures and histories, thus producing a feminist peace movement that does not present women but white women (Lavie, 2011). However, LAVIE does not only point out Ashkenazi complicity, but also describes how Mizrahi feminists are often silenced within their own communities when they attempt to address the Palestinian question (2011). These feminist critiques do not argue for a decoupling of feminism and the occupation. However, according to NATANEL, "the subordination of

gender issues or the interests of feminists to general platforms must be approached with caution" (Natanel, 2012, 91).

In terms of military service and refusal, the Ashkenazi, feminist activists30 that were interviewed for this research, all were aware of intersecting oppressions and voiced their support of any kind of draft refusal, for whatever reason. For example, New Profile questions the image of heroism attributed to 'public' conscientious objectors, in this way rejecting hierarchies among refusers (Hiller, n.d.). While they praise the courage of these refusers, they do not value them more than the refusers who decide to remain out of the public eye (Hiller, n.d.). Similarly, intersectional insights have resulted in public refusal letters that are clearly diverging from the discourse that previous conscientious objectors movements had traditionally produced. For example, a 2014 refusal letter published by the 'Washington Post' entails the recognition of many of the social struggles that were highlighted in this research:

"We think it is not accidental that when soldiers from a firearm maintenance or quartermaster unit desert or leave the military, often driven by the need to financially support their families, they are called "draft-dodgers". The military enshrines an image of the “good Israeli,” who in reality derives his power by subjugating others. The central place of the military in Israeli society, and this ideal image it creates, work together to erase the cultures and struggles of the Mizrachi, Ethiopians, Palestinians, Russians, Druze, the Ultra-Orthodox, Bedouins, and women. (...) There are many reasons people refuse to serve in the Israeli Army. Even we have differences in background and motivation about why we’ve written this letter. Nevertheless, against attacks on those who resist conscription, we support the resisters: the high school students who wrote a refusal declaration letter, the Ultra orthodox protesting the new conscription law,

30 The feminist activists that I interviewed were either part of the movement New Profile, or of Mesarvot, a recently established draft refusers' network that is closely linked to New Profile.

the Druze refusers, and all those whose conscience, personal situation, or economic well-being do not allow them to serve."31

Nevertheless, the question for feminists remains how their peace and demilitarization activism can create both a platform that works for all, as one that addresses the occupation. For example, one could argue that it is hard to imagine future liberal Ashkenazi conscientious objectors motivating their draft refusal by referring to domestic grievances rather than to, or alongside with those of the Palestinians. Then again, one can also question to what extent intersectionality can or should be applied, in order for peace movements to remain effective.

While the ongoing academic and cultural intersectional efforts have not affected the larger public yet, the discourse on military refusal seems to be gradually changing. Moreover, recent events show that some of the intersectional insights have also found their way to the streets and politics. For example, when the video of the abused Ethiopian soldier emerged in 2015 and large masses of Ethiopian Jews gathered for protest, they were joined by both Dov Khenin, member of Hadash, the left-wing Democratic Front for Peace and Equality, and Knesset member Ayman Uda, leader of the Joint List Party of Palestinian-Israelis (Omer, 2015). Reportedly, Khenin embraced the intersectional move, stating that it just "made sense" (Omer, 2015).

Events like these once again demonstrate how fractures in the image of the soldier and military service are able to open up conversations on citizenship, and above all, on solidarity and equality.

31 Or, E. (2014, July 23). We are Israeli Reservists We Refuse to Serve. Retrieved July 26, 2017 from Washington Post: https://www.washingtonpost.com/posteverything/wp/2014/07/23/we-are- israeli-reservists-we-refuse-to-serve/?utm_term=.3ec318f763c9

CONCLUSION

Through the analysis of multiple draft refusal narratives – both from powerful and disadvantaged identity groups in society – this paper has attempted to add a degree of nuance and complexity to the general discourse on Israeli draft refusal.

First of all, I challenged the limited understanding of draft refusal as a means of anti- occupation resistance, instead broadening its meaning to other refusal narratives that go beyond the question of Palestine. In doing so, it was necessary to draw upon a definition of military refusal that is based on intentionality instead of publicity. Hence, military draft refusal has been coined as a means expressing counter-hegemonic dissent, regardless of the formal ways in which refusal will eventually be expressed.

Secondly, through the use of feminist insights and intersectionality theories, it has been demonstrated that oppressions based on gender, class, race, ethnicity, religion, and others permeate both Israeli society and the military. These oppressions subsequently shape the incentives for both military service and the rejection thereof. Moreover, privilege and status do not only determine one's access to draft refusal; they also influence the ways in which draft refusal will be expressed. Hence, a broadened understanding of military refusal that includes refusers who do not base their decision on the occupation automatically exposes other, domestic struggles that are present in Israel today.

In addition, draft refusal is not only an expression of domestic oppressions; it can also function as a means to challenge and resist these oppressions. Indeed, draft refusal from disadvantaged groups is not merely socially and economically motivated; rejection of military service can also be the result of one's realization of enduring patterns of marginalization. Such alternative draft refusal narratives will directly or indirectly challenge the state, the military or the powerful hegemonic status groups in Israel. For example, a yearly increasing number of Druze Israelis resist the obligatory draft rule imposed on them, both criticizing the occupation and reconnecting with their Arab roots. In doing so, Druze refusal movements like Urfod offer a counter narrative to the general discourse of Druze-Israeli kinship and alliance produced by the Israeli Zionist elite. Hence, these refusing individuals challenge the idea of Druze Israelis as passive, loyal victims of Israeli cooptation policies by reclaiming their agency and occupying counter- hegemonic resistance strategies. In addition, these examples of draft refusal demonstrate that economistic narratives do not explain all accounts of draft refusal in the margins. To the contrary, the causality between soldiering and citizenship in practice has been frequently challenged, with some arguing that military service does not or no longer advance one's position in Israeli society. In fact, military service has even been mentioned as a factor perpetuating marginalization, as the path of higher education is often postponed or vacated as a result of military obligations.

Similar conclusions can be drawn with regards to Jewish Israelis that operate outside the Ashkenazi, middle class hegemony. In analyzing their position vis-à-vis obligatory military service, I followed the ethnic and racial lines of division that affect Mizrahi and Ethiopian Jews in Israel. Military refusal among these groups is not uncommon, yet, often associated with apolitical, socio-economic or unethical incentives. Prejudices in general discourse often prevail, framing these refusers as "draft dodgers" who are left with no agency or choice with regards to their military service. While perpetuated socio-economic distress to a certain extent influences many of these military service and refusal narratives, ongoing discrimination inside and outside the IDF can additionally result in counter-hegemonic patterns of draft refusal. Moreover, frustration with one's enduring peripheral position, as well as difficulties with receiving legal army service exemptions, can drive individuals towards absolute draft refusal. These refusers do not necessarily refuse publicly, nor challenge the state directly. However, this paper indicates levels of counter-hegemonic dissent as a result of frustration with how the state, the military or the powerful, ethnic classes in Israel have dealt with Mizrahi and Ethiopian Jewish hardships. In these draft refusal narratives, the image of the soldier and military service is often drawn upon to justify the act of draft refusal and to emphasize the state's responsibilities and failures in protecting the weak. These tendencies are remnants of the initial faith that disadvantaged Israeli individuals hold in the 'republican contract'; the agreement through which the state grants individuals their rights, freedoms and protection in exchange for military sacrifice and state loyalty. Moreover, they expose the complex identities which authors have referred to as "double consciousness" or "embattled identities". These concepts are used to explain the process of constant bargaining and self-evaluating of one's position and struggles, combining elements of state loyalty with elements of counter-hegemonic dissent.

The analysis on marginality and agency among Israeli draft refusers left us with two remaining questions concerning intersectionality. While academics and radical movements are concerned with the multiple oppressions that shape one's willingness and ability to carry out or refuse military service, the final chapters have pointed out discrepancies between intersectionality in theory and practice. First of all, intersectionality

urges conscientious objectors movements to question the scope of their dissident strategy, as not everyone has the privilege to refuse publicly and vocally against the occupation; nor is everyone preoccupied with the struggles of the Palestinians. More specifically, feminist peace or demilitarization movements recognize that their activism cannot happen without talking about the socio-economic factors that shape the incentives to serve or refuse. While the intersectional notion is starting to grow in peace and refusal initiatives, I would argue that the most inclusive refusal movements should not only recognize different status backgrounds and refusal strategies, but also actively work on the advancement of disadvantaged groups' statuses in Israel. The same applies to the broader leftist, Ashkenazi led political spectrum in Israel. Unable to address internal conflicts and obsessively focusing on the Palestinian question, many today claim that the Ashkenazi progressives are forgetting their suppressed, Jewish "brothers". Therefore, addressing intersectionality could be of importance to urge the Ashkenazi progressives to create a new, more inclusive left and address domestic oppressions.

Lastly, the concept of intersectionality has regularly been reinterpreted and re-analyzed, with many feminists today referring to intersectionality as a tool used to connect different struggles that in first instance seem to be separated or even contradictory. Accordingly, academics and activists have attempted to connect the oppressions of Black and Mizrahi Jews with those of the Palestinians inside and outside Israel. Yet, the analysis of draft refusal narratives in the margin again seems to expose the lack of intersectionality as a broadly recognized practice connecting opposite groups. While the academic intersectional efforts are increasing and becoming more practical themselves – for example successfully connecting Palestinian BDS movements with Black Live Matter movements in the United States – the marginality, exclusion and citizenship expectations of disadvantaged Jewish groups themselves prevent far-reaching solidarity initiatives in Israel. The lack of building these alliances in practice raises important questions on the hierarchy of struggles and the feasibility of intersectionality as a practice. To a certain extent, the color-blindness of the Ashkenazi left shows similarities with the lack of intersectionality between disadvantaged Jewish groups and Palestinians; yet, the Ashkenazi left is the more powerful player in this case. Therefore, I conclude that

Ashkenazi progressives are bearing a primal responsibility of taking initial steps towards domestic inclusivity alongside addressing the Palestinian struggle. It seems only then, intersectional peace and alliance building in Israel and Palestine is possible, and obligatory military service will subsequently lose its relevance.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

ACADEMIC ARTICLES

Aboultaif, E. W. (2015). Druze Politics in Israel: Challenging the Myth of “Druze-Zionist Covenant”. Journal of Muslim Minority Affairs, 35(4), 533-555. doi: 10.1080/13602004.2015.1039810

Aharoni, S. (2011). Gender and “Peace Work”: An Unofficial History of Israeli-Palestinian Peace Negotiations. Politics & Gender, 7(3), 391-416. Retrieved July 7, 2017. doi:10.1017/S1743923X11000274

Baratz, L., & Kalnisky, E. (2017). The identities of the Ethiopian community in Israel. Journal for Multicultural Education, 11(1), 37-50. doi: 10.1108/Jme-12-2015-0041

Ben-Dor, Z. (2006). Invisible Exile: Iraqi Jews in Israel. The Journal of Interdisciplinary Crossroads, 3(1), 135-162. Retrieved July 20, 2017 from https://www.academia.edu/1086705/Invisible_Exile_Iraqi_Jews_in_Israel

Ben-Eliezer, U. (2008). Multicultural society and everyday cultural racism: second generation of Ethiopian Jews in Israel's ‘crisis of modernization’. Ethnic and Racial Studies, 31(5), 935- 961. doi: 10.1080/01419870701568866

Burk, J. (1995). Citizenship Status and Military Service: The Quest For Inclusion by Minorities and Conscientious Objectors. Armed Forces & Society, 21(4), 503-529. doi: 10.1177/0095327X9502100401

Chehata, H. (2012). Israel: promised land for Jews ... as long as they're not black? Race & Class, 53(4), 67-77. doi: 10.1177/0306396811433110

Chetrit, S. S. (2000). Mizrahi Politics in Israel: Between Integration and Alternative. Journal of Palestine Studies, 29(4), 51-65. doi: 10.2307/2676561

Cohen, I. B. (2013). Israeli State Violence/Mizrahi Resilience: An Ethnography Of Mizrahi Experiences Of War And Eviction And Their Intersection With Palestinian Experiences. California Institute of Integral Studies (Dissertation). Retrieved July 22, 2017 from https://search.proquest.com/docview/1461742758

Crenshaw, K. (1989). Demarginalizing the Intersection of Race and Sex: A Black Feminist Critique of Antidiscrimination Doctrine, Feminist Theory and Antiracist Politics. University of Chicago Legal Forum 1989, 1(8). Retrieved July 15, 2017 from http://chicagounbound.uchicago.edu/uclf/vol1989/iss1/8

Dloomy, A. (2005). The Israeli Refuseniks: 1982–2003. Israel Affairs, 11(4), 695-716. doi: 10.1080/13537120500233946

Epstein, A. D. (1998). For the Peoples of the Promised Land. Intellectual and Social Origins of Jewish Pacifism in Israel. Journal of Israeli History 19(2), 5–20. Frank Cass. London. Retrieved July 3, 2017 from www.academia.edu

Epstein, A. D. (2002). The Freedom of Conscience and Sociological Perspectives on Dilemmas of Collective Secular Disobedience – The Case of Israel. Journal of Human Rights 1(3), 305–320. Retrieved July 3, 2017. doi:10.1080/14754830210156553

Ezra, O. (2004). Selective disobedience on the basis of territory. War and Terrorism, 20, 81-93.

Farr, V. (2011). UNSCR 1325 and Women's Peace Activism in the Occupied Palestinian Territory. International Feminist Journal of Politics, 13(4), 539-556. doi: 10.1080/14616742.2011.611661

Firro, K. M. (2001). Reshaping Druze Particularism in Israel. Journal of Palestine Studies, 30(3), 40-53. doi: 10.1525/jps.2001.30.3.40

Friedman, R. (2006). The Challenge of Selective Conscientious Objection in Israel. Theoria, 53, 79-99.

Guetzkow, J., & Fast, I. (2016). How Symbolic Boundaries Shape the Experience of Social Exclusion: A Case Comparison of Arab Palestinian Citizens and Ethiopian Jews in Israel. American Behavioral Scientist, 60(2), 150-171. doi: 10.1177/0002764215607581

Halper, J., Seroussi, E. & Squires-Kidron, P. (1989). Musica Mizrakhit: Ethnicity and Class Culture in Israel. Popular Music 8(2): 131-141. Retrieved July 19, 2017 from https://www.researchgate.net/publication/259362196_Musica_mizrakhit_ethnicity_and_cla ss_culture_in_Israel

Hermann, T. & Yaar-Yuchtman, E. (2010). Unfortunate misplacement: Israeli public perceptions of Israel's place in the Middle East, “I’m in the east and my heart in the west,” workshop (Calgary, Canada, October 3-5, 2010). Retrieved July 12, 2017 from http://www.openu.ac.il/personal_sites/tamar-hermann/download/unfortunate- misplacement.pdf

Jones, K.C. & Misra, J. & McCurley, K. (2013). Intersectionality in Sociology. Retrieved July 22, 2017, from Sociologist for Women: http://www.socwomen.org/wp-content/uploads/swsfactsheet_intersectionality.pdf

Jordan, H. A. (2016). Black, Poor and Jewish: The Ostracism of Ethiopian Jews in Modern Israel. Migration Policy and Practice: Interventions and Solutions, 175-190.

Kachtan, D. (2012). The Construction of Ethnic Identity in the Military—From the Bottom Up. Israel Studies, 17(3), 150-175. Indiana University Press. Retrieved August 3, 2017 from Project MUSE database.

Kanaaneh, R. (2003). Embattled Identities: Palestinian Soldiers in the Israeli Military. Journal of Palestine Studies, 32(3), 5-20. doi: 10.1525/jps.2003.32.3.5

Kaplan, D., & Ben-Ari, E. (2000). Brothers and Others in Arms. Journal of Contemporary Ethnography, 29(4), 396-432. doi: 10.1177/089124100129023954

Kaufman, I. (2004). Ethnic Affirmation or Ethnic Manipulation: The Case of the Druze in Israel. Nationalism and Ethnic Politics, 9(4), 53-82. doi: 10.1080/13537110390444122

Kutz-Flamenbaum, R. V. (2012). Mobilizing Gender to Promote Peace: The Case of Machsom Watch. Qualitative Sociology, 35(3), 293-310. doi: 10.1007/s11133-012-9231-7

Lainer-Vos, D. (2006). Social Movements and Citizenship: Conscientious Objection in France, the United States, and Israel. Mobilization: An International Quarterly, 11(3), 357-375. doi: 10.17813/maiq.11.3.q10334171q6q0155

Lavie, S. (2011). Mizrahi feminism and the question of Palestine. Journal of Middle East Women’s Studies 7(2): 56–88, Retrieved July 23, 2017. doi: 10.2979/jmiddeastwomstud.7.2.56.

Lebel, U. (2014). ‘Blackmailing the army’ – ‘Strategic Military Refusal’ as policy and doctrine enforcement: the formation of a new security agent. Small Wars & Insurgencies, 25(2), 297-328. doi: 10.1080/09592318.2013.857941

Lefkowitz, D. (2001). Negotiated and Mediated Meanings: Ethnicity and Politics in Israeli Newspapers. Anthropological Quarterly, 74(4), 179-189. George Washington University Institute for Ethnographic Research. Retrieved July 15, 2017 from Project MUSE database.

Leibner, G. (2015). HaTikva Encampment, 2011: The Ambiguous Agency of the Marginalized. Current Anthropology, 56(S11), S159-S168. doi: 10.1086/682241

Levin, D. S. (2010). “You’re Always First a Girl”: Emerging Adult Women, Gender, and Sexuality in the Israeli Army. Journal of Adolescent Research, 26(1), 3-29. doi: 10.1177/0743558410384731

Levy, L. (2009). Reorienting Hebrew Literary History: The View from the East. Prooftexts 29(2): 127-172. Retrieved July 20, 2017 from http://sites.middlebury.edu/hebm230/files/2014/09/Lital-Levy-reorienting-hebrew-literary- history.pdf

Levy, Y. (2006). The War of the Peripheries: A Social Mapping of IDF Casualties in the Al-Aqsa Intifada. Social Identities, 12(3), 309-324. doi: 10.1080/13504630600744146

Levy, Y. (2008a). Israel's violated republican equation. Citizenship Studies, 12(3), 249-264. doi: 10.1080/13621020802015412

Levy, Y. (2008b). The Linkage Between Israel's Military Policies and the Military's Social Composition The Case of the al-Aqsa Intifada. American Behavioral Scientist, 51(11), 1575-1589. doi: 10.1177/0002764208316358

Levy, Y. (2009). Is There a Motivation Crisis in Military Recruitment in Israel? Israel Affairs, 15(2), 135-158. doi: 10.1080/13537120902734426

Levy, Y. & Lomsky-Feder, E. & Harel, N. (2007). From "Obligatory Militarism" to "Contractual Militarism" -- Competing Models of Citizenship. Israel Studies 12(1), 127-148. Indiana University Press. Retrieved July 28, 2017 from Project MUSE database.

Levy, Y., & Mizrahi, S. (2008). Alternative politics and the transformation of society-military relations - The Israeli experience. Administration & Society, 40(1), 25-53. doi: 10.1177/0095399707311649

Linn, R. (1996). When the Individual Soldier Says `No' to War: A Look at Selective Refusal during the Intifada. Journal of Peace Research, 33(4), 421-431. doi: 10.1177/0022343396033004004

Livio, O. (2015). The path of least resistance: Constructions of space in the discourse of Israeli military refuseniks. Discourse Context & Media, 10, 1-9. doi: 10.1016/j.dcm.2015.02.002

Lubin, A. (2016). Black Panther Palestine. Studies in American Jewish Literature, 35(1), 77-97.

Mansbach, D. (2012). The strategic use of the politics of care: The Israeli Checkpoint Watch movement. Feminist Theory, 13(1), 43-58. doi: 10.1177/1464700111429905

Mautner, M. (2016). Liberalism in Israel Between the 'Good Person' and the 'Bad Citizen'. Israel Studies Review, 31(1), 6-35. doi: 10.3167/isr.2016.310103

Mizrachi, N., & Herzog, H. (2012). Participatory destigmatization strategies among Palestinian citizens, Ethiopian Jews and Mizrahi Jews in Israel. Ethnic and Racial Studies, 35(3), 418- 435. doi: 10.1080/01419870.2011.589530

Moldavsky, D. (2006). Personal view - A way out for the conscientious objector: "become" a mental patient. British Medical Journal, 332(7548), 1041-1041. doi: DOI 10.1136/bmj.332.7548.1041

Natanel, K. (2012). Resistance at the limits: feminist activism and conscientious objection in Israel. Feminist Review (101), 78-96. doi: 10.1057/fr.2011.51

Offer, S. (2004). The socio-economic integration of the Ethiopian community in Israel. International Migration, 42(3), 29-55. doi: 10.1111/j.0020-7985.2004.00288.x

Peled, Y. (1992). Ethnic Democracy and the Legal Construction of Citizenship: Arab Citizens of the Jewish State. American Political Science Review, 86(2), 432-443. Retrieved July 6, 2017. doi: 10.2307/1964231

Perez M. & Sasson-Levy, O. (2015). Avoiding Military Service in a Militaristic Society: A Chronicle of Resistance to Hegemonic Masculinity. A Journal of Peace Research, 40(4), 462-488. Retrieved July 2, 2017 from https://www.researchgate.net/publication/283962260_Avoiding_Military_Service_in_a _Militaristic_Society_A_Chronicle_of_Resistance_to_Hegemonic_Masculinity

Roby, B. K. (2015). The Mizrahi Era of Rebellion: Israel's Forgotten Civil Rights Struggle 1948- 1966. Syracuse: Syracuse University Press. Retrieved July 30, 2017 from Project MUSE database.

Rosmer, T. (2014). Israel's Middle Eastern Jewish Intellectuals: Identity and Discourse. British Journal of Middle Eastern Studies, 41(1), 62-78. doi: 10.1080/13530194.2014.878507

Stadler, N., & Ben-Ari, E. (2003). Other-Worldly Soldiers? Ultra-Orthodox Views of Military Service in Contemporary Israel¹. Israel Affairs, 9(4), 17-48. doi: 10.1080/13537120412331321513

Stadler, N., Lomsky-Feder, E., & Ben-Ari, E. (2008). Fundamentalism's encounters with citizenship: the Haredim in Israel. Citizenship Studies, 12(3), 215-231. doi: 10.1080/13621020802015388

Saada-Ophir, G. (2007). Mizrahi Subaltern Counterpoints: Sderot's Alternative Bands. Anthropological Quarterly, 80(3), 711-736

Sasson-Levy, O. (2003). Feminism and Military Gender Practices: Israeli Women Soldiers in “Masculine” Roles. Sociological Inquiry, 73(3), 440-465. doi: 10.1111/1475-682X.00064

Sasson-Levy, O. (2007). Contradictory Consequences of Mandatory Conscription. Gender & Society, 21(4), 481-507. doi: 10.1177/0891243207303538

Shohat, E. (1999). The invention of the Mizrahim. Journal of Palestine Studies, 29(1), 5-20. doi: 10.1525/jps.1999.29.1.02p0002c

Tilly, C. (1995). Citizenship, Identity and Social History. International Review of Social History, 40(S3), 1-17. Retrieved July 4, 2017. doi: 10.1017/S0020859000113586

Tsoffar, R. (2006). 'A land that devours its people': Mizrahi writing from the gut. Body & Society, 12(2), 25-+. doi: 10.1177/1357034x06064317

Weiss, E. (2011). The interrupted sacrifice: Hegemony and moral crisis among Israeli conscientious objectors. American Ethnologist, 38(3), 576-588. doi: 10.1111/j.1548- 1425.2011.01324.x

Weiss, E. (2014). Sacrifice as Social Capital among Israeli Conscientious Objectors. Ethnos, 79(3), 388-405. doi: 10.1080/00141844.2013.821512

Weiss, E. (2015). Beyond Mystification: Hegemony, Resistance, and Ethical Responsibility in Israel. Anthropological Quarterly, 88(2), 417-443.

Weiss, E. (2017). Competing ethical regimes in a diverse society: Israeli military refusers. American Ethnologist, 44(1), 52-64. doi: 10.1111/amet.12425

Yiftachel, O. (2000). Social Control, Urban Planning and Ethno- Class Relations: Mizrahi Jews in Israel’s ‘Development Towns'. International Journal of Urban and Regional Research, 24(2), 418–438. Retrieved July 22, 2017 from https://www.researchgate.net/publication/4990855_Social_Control_Urban_Planning_and_ Ethno-class_Relations_Mizrahi_Jews_in_Israel's_'Development_Towns'

Yuval-Davis, N. (1985). Front and Rear: The Sexual Division of Labor in the Israeli Army. Feminist Studies, 11(3), 649-675. doi:10.2307/3180123

Yuchtman-Yaar, E. (2005). Continuity and Change in Israeli Society: The Test of the Melting Pot. Israel Studies, 10(2), 91-128. Indiana University Press. Retrieved August 3, 2017 from Project MUSE database.

Zemlinskaya, Y. (2009). Cultural Context and Social Movement Outcomes: Conscientious Objection and Draft Resistance Movement Organizations in Israel. Mobilization, 14(4), 449-466.

BOOKS

Ben-Eliezer, U. (1998). The Making of Israeli Militarism: Indiana University Press.

Ben-Porat, G., & Turner, B. S. (2011). The Contradictions of Israeli Citizenship: Land, Religion and State: Taylor & Francis.

Keshet, S. (2015). Stains and stampings : Mizrahi en Palestinian identity in visual art in Israel. Tel Aviv: Achoti.

Kimmerling, B. (2005). The Invention and Decline of Israeliness: State, Society, and the Military: University of California Press.

Oldfield, A. (1990). Citizenship and Community: Civic Republicanism and the Modern World. London: Routledge.

Shafir, G., & Peled, Y. (2002). Being Israeli: The dynamics of multiple citizenship. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press.

Shavit, Z. & Yuchtman-Yaar, E. (2016). 18. On the Cultural Distinction between East and West among Israeli Jews. Handbook of Israel: Major Debates: 304-323. Berlin, Boston: De Gruyter. Retrieved July 17, 2017 from http://www.degruyter.com/view/books/9783110351637/9783110351637- 024/9783110351637-024.xml

Torstrick, R. L. (2000). The Limits of Coexistence: Identity Politics in Israel: University of Michigan Press.

Weiss, E. (2014). Conscientious Objectors in Israel: Citizenship, Sacrifice, Trials of Fealty: University of Pennsylvania Press, Incorporated.

JOURNALISTIC ARTICLES AND OPINIONS

Cohen, G. (2014, January 8). Fewer Ethiopian Soldiers Jailed by IDF, but More Still Than Other Soldiers. Retrieved July 18, 2017 from Haaretz: http://www.haaretz.com/israel- news/.premium-1.567488

Dabush, A. (2017, June 23). Want to end the occupation? Start talking to settlers and Mizrahim. Retrieved July 18 from +972 Magazine: https://972mag.com/want-to-end-the-occupation- start-talking-to-settlers-and-mizrahim/128325/

Frantzman, S.J. (2015, May 4). Ethiopian Jews: Not Jewish Enough. Retrieved July 18, 2017

from Al Jazeera: http://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/opinion/2015/05/ethiopian-jews-jewish- 150504075644608.html

Ginsburg, M. (2014, May 1). Battling to integrate: The IDF's misunderstood Ethiopian recruits. Retrieved July 18, 2017 from The Times of Israel: http://www.timesofisrael.com/battling-to- integrate-the-idfs-misunderstood-ethiopian-recruits/

Hadracha, K. (2013). New Israeli Towns - Looking South. 17 Augustus 2013. Retrieved July 8, 2017 from The Economist: https://www.economist.com/news/middle-east-and- africa/21583670-israeli-planners-want-switch-development-new-frontiers-looking-south

Isaacs, A. (2016, March 14). How the Black Lives Matter and Palestinian Movements Converged. Retrieved July 20, 2017 from Moment Magazine: https://www.momentmag.com/22800-2/

Jewish Voice for Peace (n.d.). Interview with New Profile's Ruth Hiller. Retrieved July 2, 2017 from New Profile: http://www.newprofile.org/english/node/154

Kidron, P. (2002). Yesh Gvul: a uniquely Israeli innovation in the culture of protest. Retrieved July 9, 2017 from Peace News: https://peacenews.info/node/3882/yesh-gvul-uniquely-israeli- innovation-culture-protest

Margolin, M. (2015, September 3). The Mizrahi Thorn in the Side of Israeli Left. Retrieved July 24, 2017 from Forward: http://forward.com/culture/320255/the-mizrahi-thorn-in-israels- leftist-side/

Mehager, T. (2016, May, 14). Conscientious objection is yet another Ashkenazi privilege. Retrieved July 8, 2017 from +972 Magazine: https://972mag.com/conscientious-objection- is-yet-another-ashkenazi-privilege/119307/

Nassar, S. (2017, April 6). Zionism's problem with intersectionality. Retrieved July 22, 2017 from Al Jazeera: http://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/opinion/2017/04/zionism-problem- intersectionality-170406134852446.html

Noy, O. (2017, June 22). One of Israels Most Painful Chapters Comes to Life in Jerusalem. Retrieved July 19, 2017 from +972 Magazine: https://972mag.com/one-of-israels-most- painful-chapters-comes-to-life-in-jerusalem/128314/

Samuel, S. (2016, March 13). The Mizrahi-Palestinian Intersectionality Nobody's Talking About. Retrieved July 24, 2017 from Forward: http://forward.com/opinion/335609/the-mizrahi- palestinian-intersectionality-nobodys-talking-about/

Sheen, D. (2015, May 4). Ethiopian Israelis Protest Police Brutality, But Do Black Lives Matter In Israel If They're Not Jews? Retrieved July 21, 2017 from ALTERNET:

http://www.alternet.org/world/ethiopian-israelis-protest-police-brutality-do-black-lives- matter-israel-if-theyre-not-jews

Times of Israel Staff (2017, February 7). IDF to promote first colonel from Bedouin community. Retrieved July 20, 2017, from Times of Israel: http://www.timesofisrael.com/idf-to- promote-first-colonel-from-bedouin-community/

Vick, K. (2014, March 7). Israeli Army Sees Rise in Christian Arab Recruits. Retrieved July 17, 2017 from Time: http://time.com/15479/israeli-army-christian-arabs

Williams, D. & Lewins, O. (2014, April 22). Israel encouraging more Christians to join military service. Retrieved July 16, 2017 from REUTERS: http://www.reuters.com/article/us-israel- christians-military-idUSBREA3L1MH20140422

OTHER

Atashi, Z. (2001). The Druze In Israel And The Question Of Compulsory Military Service. Jerusalem Letter/Viewpoints No. 464, 28 Tishrei 5762. Retrieved July 19, 2017 from http://www.jcpa.org/jl/vp464.htm

Courage To Refuse (n.d.). Combatants Letter. Retrieved July 3, 2017 from http://www.seruv.org.il/english/combatants_letter.asp

Hasan, R. (2015, July 12). If There'll Be Peace, All The Arsim Will Come. Translation by Makleff, R. Retrieved July 25, 2017 from www.972mag.com: https://972mag.com/if-therell-be- peace- all-the-arsim-will-come/108774/

Hiller, R.L. (n.d.). Are Israel's Refusers Modern Day Heroes? Retrieved July 6, 2017 from New Profile: http://www.newprofile.org/english/node/291

Hiller, R.L. (n.d.). Why I Prefer the Term Refuser to Refusenik. Retrieved July 7, 2017 from New Profile: http://www.newprofile.org/english/node/195

Israel Central Bureau of Statistics (2013, April 14). 65th Independence Day - More than 8 Million Residents in the State of Israel. Retrieved July 4, 2017 from Israel Central Bureau of Statistics: http://www.cbs.gov.il/hodaot2013n/11_13_097e.pdf

Israel Central Bureau of Statistics (n.d.). Social Survey 2005. Retrieved July 10, 2017 from Israel Central Bureau of Statistics: http://www.cbs.gov.il/reader/?MIval=cw_usr_view_SHTML&ID=954

New Profile (2012). NP Annual Activity Report 2012. Retrieved July 7, 2017, from New Profile: http://www.newprofile.org/english/2012report

Or, E. (2014, July 23). We are Israeli Reservists We Refuse to Serve. Retrieved July 26, 2017 from Washington Post: https://www.washingtonpost.com/posteverything/wp/2014/07/23/we-are-israeli-reservists- we-refuse-to-serve/?utm_term=.3ec318f763c9

Sheen, D. (2015, April 6). Ethiopian Refuseniks. Retrieved July 9, 2017 from Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YTxqlO8nAd8

The Movement for Black Lives. (n.d.). Invest-Divest. Retrieved July 23, 2017 from The Movement for Black Lives: https://policy.m4bl.org/invest-divest/

Yashar, A. (2015, August 5). IDF Enlistment of Christian Israeli Set to Break Records. Retrieved July 11, 2017 from Israel National News: http://www.israelnationalnews.com/News/News.aspx/199056