\azns 1 § Cíl f**^ ** ^™Bl ' """^ The #New-OId Jaffa": Tourism, utíiin 11 nauuiif emu u its oaiiic lui Tel Aviv's Arab Neighbourhood Mark LeVine The city has been widely recognized as a central site for the unfolding of the project of modernity and its sister discourses, colonialism and the nation-state. Scholars have similarly affirmed its axial position in the present era of globalization and (arguably) receding state power.1 What remains to be determined is the extent to which the contemporary phenomena of globalization has altered the dynamics of urbanization and the struggle for what Henri Lefebvre has called the 'right to the city'. Of particular importance in this regard is the powerful intersection of market-based postmodern architectural and planning discourses and a (re)articulation of communal identities away from identification with the modern nation-state.2 This chapter presents a case study of contemporary urbanization in the city-turned-neighbourhood of Jaffa - the economic and cultural capital of pre-1948 Arab Palestine, and now a mixed Arab-Jewish quarter in the city of 'Tel Aviv-Yafo'. It reveals a fundamental continuity during this period of transition from the nation-state to the 'global' era in the century-long Zionist/Israeli (that is, nationalist, and thus exclusivist) imagination of Jaffa and Tel Aviv, the official planning and urbanization discourses produced through that imagination, and the architectures of Arab-Palestinian identity constructed in resistance to them. Jaffa, it will be seen, remains a powerful and poignant example of how the interplay of the discourses of nationalism, modernity, architecture, tourism and gentrification can influence the transformation of an urban space. From the establishment of Tel Aviv as a garden suburb in 1909 through its evolution into the 'White City' - the world centre of International Style architecture during the 1930s and 1940s - architecture and planning 240 The 'New-Old Jaffa' played crucial roles in these processes by visually and discursively separating 'modern, Jewish' Tel Aviv from 'ancient, Arab' Jaffa, and by marking the former city as the pre-eminent symbol of the Zionist rebirth of Palestine. Today Tel Aviv's International Style architecture symbolizes the city's, and the country's, longstanding modernity. Yet the overriding focus on Tel Aviv and its architectural heritage has obscured Jaffa's equally impressive architectural heritage - both its early influence on the design of homes in Tel Aviv, and the frequent deployment of the International Style by the city's bourgeoisie before 1948 to declare their, and Jaffa's, modernity.5 I have elsewhere examined the role of architecture and planning in the pre-1948 conflicts surrounding the development of Jaffa and Tel Aviv.4 In this chapter I examine the battle for Arab Jaffa during the late 1980s and 1990s, a time when Jaffa once again became an object of 'development', both as a site for tourism, and as a new, chic neighbourhood for the burgeoning Jewish elite of 'global Tel Aviv'. More specifically, I will examine how, in the face of creeping dislocation, accompanied (and supported) by daily media and television portrayals of Jaffa as both poor and crime-ridden, and chic, exotic and romantic (and thus the ideal tourist site), Arab residents have attempted to re-imagine their 'city' and open up new spaces for agency and empowerment. Through such actions they may ultimately be able to articulate a more autochthonous synthesis of the city's history and its architectural traditions - one that will allow them to remain on the land and develop Jaffa for the benefit of the local, as well as the international, community. Jaffa and Tel Aviv after the 1948 War In 1947 United Nations General Assembly Resolution 171 partitioned Palestine into Jewish and Arab states. Despite being surrounded by Tel Aviv and other Jewish towns, the city of Jaffa was included in the territory of the Arab state because of its majority Arab population and its status as the cultural and economic capital of Arab Palestine - its 'Bride of the Sea' (figure 9.1). Fighting in Jaffa began in December 1947, and continued until the surrender of the city to Zionist/Israeli forces on May 13, 1948, following the flight of all but 3,500 of the city's prewar Arab population of 70,000. At the end of the war all of the twenty-six Arab villages in the Jaffa subdistrict were emptied or destroyed, and Jaffa itself had 'totally collapsed'.' For the new Israeli Prime Minister, Ben Gurion, Jaffa was to be resettled entirely by Jews: 'Jaffa will be a Jewish city . . . War is war.'6 Subsequently, on April 24, 1950, Jaffa was officially united with Tel Aviv. According to one soldier-turned-architect who participated in the capture of the neighbouring village of Salameh: 'from the beginning the 241 Consuming Tradition, Manufacturing Heritage Jaffa-Tel Aviv Region Indicates Built-up Area of Arab Villages in late 1940s Jaffa-Tel Aviv Border until 1949 , 1943... indicates Year Region was Annexed to Tel Aviv Map by Mark LeVine Figure 9.1. Relative locations of Jaffa and Tel Aviv, showing the years in which various surrounding regions were annexed. (Map by author.) Municipality decided to erase [limhok] historic Salameh and build in its place something completely new.'7 I have elsewhere discussed how the discourse of 'erasure and reinscription', as James Holston has termed the guiding force behind modernist planning, was a major theme in the planning and architecture of Tel Aviv.8 In fact, such an erasure of the existing Arab presence was a precondition for the symbolic and physical development of Tel Aviv. And ultimately, the transformation of the area was given biblical justification, so that today a passage from Amos greets visitors to the Tel Aviv Museum, located in the home of the city's first mayor, Meir Dizengoff: T will restore the fortunes of my people Israel, and they shall rebuild the ruined cities and 242 The 'New-Old Jaffa' inhabit them." But erasure of the former Arab presence was not just physical; it was also discursive. Thus, the Municipality of Tel Aviv changed almost all the Arabic street names in Jaffa into numbers. The idea was that such a system would be maintained until they could be given Hebrew names, the etiology of which was discussed at length in the short-lived Hebrew Jaffa paper, Yediot Yafo [News from Jaffa].'0 While the municipality was initially reluctant to annex Jaffa because of the cost of postwar rehabilitation, ultimately the cities were united because the national government saw this as vital to achieving 'the disintegration of Jaffa and the demarcation of the boundaries of a united city of Tel Aviv and Jaffa."1 Their rebirth as 'Tel Aviv-Yafo' was announced on April 24, 1950, with 'Tel Aviv' symbolizing Jewish settlement renewing itself in Israel, and 'Yafo' being attached to preserve the historical name.12 Background to th© Pr©s©nt Socio-Economic Situation The post-1948 remnants of the Arab community of Jaffa were the poorer Arabs from the surrounding villages and a few Jaffans who remained. Jewish immigrants, mainly from the Balkans, were settled in empty Palestinian properties in the early 1950s. Later, when many of these immigrants moved to newer neighbourhoods in the Tel Aviv region, Palestinians resumed renting and buying properties in Jaffa. Then, after a precipitous drop in the Tel Aviv metropolitan region's population during the period 1972 to 1983 period, the city entered a second phase of transformation. The 'post-industrial era' has now witnessed the relocation of most of the major financial and industrial corporations of Israel to the city, and with them, numerous young-professional ('yuppy/dinkie') couples." This movement was augmented by a new wave of immigration of primarily Soviet Jews beginning in 1989. Meanwhile, within Jaffa proper, the Arab population has almost trebled since 1972 while the Jewish population of the city's two predominantly Arab neighbourhoods, Ajami and Lev Yafo, has fallen dramatically - down to less than 3 per cent in the case of Ajami. Overall, the change in the population of Jaffa and Tel Aviv during this period is shown in the accompanying chart (table 9.1 ).14 Discrimination has played a continuous role in the social life of Jaffa's Arab residents. Among other instances, it is evident in wage differentials, access to jobs, and educational attainment differences between Arabs and Jews.13 For Arab residents, such conditions have been exacerbated recently by the large increase in the quarter's Arab population, as well as by a decade-long influx of Russian immigrants, who compete with them for jobs and housing. Thus, despite claims by the Municipality of Tel Aviv-Yafo that conditions in Jaffa have actually improved during the past decade, in fact, they have 'meaningfully deteriorated' in recent years, to the point where Arab Jaffa has become the most depressed and disadvantaged community 243 Consuming Tradition, Manufacturing Heritage in the entire country.16 Some indicators of this situation are shown in the accompanying table (table 9.2). Table 9.1. Change in population of Jaffa and Tel Aviv. Year Arab population of Jaffa and percentage of total population Total population of Tel Aviv-Yafo 1961 5,782/1.5 percent 386,070 iy/2 b,ás i / / per cent 305, /bU 1983 9,455 / 3 per cent 327,265 1992 15,005/4.2 percent 356,911 1997 15,800/4.5 percent -355,200; 1.908,600 total for Tel Aviv metro area Table 9.2.The Condition of Employment of Jaffa's Arabs in Relation to the Remainder of the Population." Jewish IVIales in Tel Aviv Arab IVIales in Jaffa Arab IVIales in Mixed Cities Arab IVIales in Arab Towns Number of years of schooling 12.90 10.04 10.96 9.03 Professional status 48.33 32.97 40.39 36.47 Monthly income in shekels 3,722 2,293 2,306 2,406 Percentage of Academics 24.2 4.2 3.2 5.8 Percentage of Wage-earners 75.7 86.4 79.4 80.6 Percentage employed in the public sector 16.8 4.6 22.8 17.3 The Symbolic Functions of Tel Aviv and Jaffa The symbolic and discursive functions of Tel Aviv and Jaffa within the Zionist enterprise have always been as important as their economic and political functions, and they currently exercise a determinative influence on the political-economic situation in Jaffa. On the one hand, 'modern', 'clean', and 'well-planned' Tel Aviv has from the start been contrasted with 'backward', 'dirty', and 'unplanned' Jaffa. At the same time, the 'first modern Hebrew city in the world' has since 1948 also been contrasted with Jerusalem, the religious capital of pre-Zionist Jewish Palestine. This dichotomy has continued to be a major theme in Israeli and Western imaginations, in no small part due to postmodernist trends that have encouraged cities to distinguish or differentiate themselves through their 244 The 'New-Old Jaffa' architecture, particularly through the selling of image.18 Thus, the New-York Times recently explained that 'to many Israelis, the battle of the left-wing and secular Tel Aviv against the nationalist and religious Jerusalem is a struggle for the soul and destiny of Israel."" Other American and European publications have likewise contrasted 'secular', 'normal', 'cosmopolitan', 'unabashedly sybaritic', and (most importantly) 'modern' Tel Aviv with 'holy' and abnormal Jerusalem.20 'A visitor wanting to see what the 50-year-old Jewish state is really all about would do well to plunge into the casual, self-consciously secular and thoroughly modern metropolis on the sea back where the dunes used to be.' This implies that Jerusalem and the seemingly interminable conflict it symbolizes are, in fact, a mirage on the 'Sahara Desert' upon which Tel Aviv was imagined and then built.21 In a similar vein, the chief architect of Tel Aviv recently titled a book on International Style architecture in the city Houses from the Sands [Batim Min Ha-Hol]. Such a 'discourse of the sands' can be intimately tied to that 'aesthetic of erasure and reinscription' upon which most modernist planning ideologies, particularly Zionist/Israeli planning, are based.22 And not surprisingly, the discursive erasure epitomized by the symbolism of sands and the changing of street names has lasted until today. As the Economist explained in comparing Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, 'Unlike Jerusalem, Tel Aviv contains hardly any Arabs. It has swallowed the old Arab port of Jaffa, but in the main it was built by Jews, for Jews, on top of sand dunes, not on top of anybody else's home.'21 The purported absence of Arabs from the land on which Tel Aviv was built is an important reason why Tel Aviv is not considered a 'national' space in the way that the New York Times conceives Jerusalem. This is an ironic development considering that Tel Aviv was created as the living embodiment of a Zionist - that is, Jewish national - utopia.24 Such renditions of Tel Aviv's creation mythology by the Western media have had a profound impact on the way Jaffa has been imagined by both Israelis and foreign writers during the past ninety years. This is because from the birth of Tel Aviv, the landscape of Jaffa has remained central to the Tel Avivan definition of self - and thus its definition of the 'other' as well. If Arabs were discursively (and ultimately physically) erased from Tel Aviv, the process was even more determined in Jaffa. Two contemporary depictions of Jaffa, one negative and the other quaint and 'aggressively restored', have framed its envisioning.25 On the one hand, Jaffa has been, and continues to be, visualized as poor and crime infested. For example, it has served as the setting for many crime or war movies and television shows since the 1960s, because 'it resembles Beirut after the bombardments - dilapidated streets, fallen houses, dirty and neglected streets, smashed cars.'26 But this image has also been reinforced by media and government depictions and, to a lesser extent, by its reality as a major centre for drug-dealing in the Tel Aviv metropolitan region. 245 Consuming Tradition, Manufacturing Heritage The other image of Jaffa, specifically designed for tourist consumption, is based on the city's character as 'ancient', 'romantic', 'exotic' and 'quaint'. 'Old Jaffa ... is the jewel of Tel Aviv', is how an official brochure described it.27 Such depictions are linked to a re-imagining of Jaffa as a historically Jewish space, one that was 'liberated from Arab hands', as the museums and tourist brochures inform visitors.28 These visions of Jaffa are connected to Jaffa's place as an historic, archaeological, and thus touristic, site within Tel Aviv. According to the Israeli Ministry of Tourism: 'A port city for over 4,000 years and one of the world's most ancient towns, Jaffa is a major tourist attraction, with an exciting combination of old and new, art galleries and great shopping . . . Great care has been given to developing Old Jaffa as a cultural and historical center . . ,'29 Without a past or a history of its own, the 'City of the Sands' (as Tel Aviv has long been known) has required Jaffa to complete its identity. According to the Tel Aviv Municipality: 'Once Tel Aviv became Tel Aviv-Yafo the young city all at once acquired itself a past - the 3000 years of ancient Yafo . . . [and] was ready for the great leap forward which transformed it into a metropolis. Yafo . . . one of the oldest cities in the world, acquired a future and renewed youth, with widespread progress streaming its way from its youthful neighbor.'"' Not surprisingly, Arab Jaffans have protested how their city has since 1948 become little more than 'a margin on the name of Tel Aviv'.31 One reason is that pre-1948 Jaffa was considered the 'jewel' of Arab Palestine, and was continually depicted in the Palestinian press as the country's most beautiful and important city. As Falastin described it in 1946: 'No one doubts that Jaffa is the greatest Arab city in Palestine, and it is inevitable that visitors to Palestine will stop by to see the model of Palestine's cities.'32 In other words, Jaffa was a symbol, and perhaps the epitome, of Arab Palestine's urban landscape. Notwithstanding such views, the erasure of Jaffa has now been accepted by many diaspora Jaffans, particularly those returning to visit the city in recent years, who have come to regard present-day Jaffa as a 'figment of the imagination'.33 And in some ways Tel Aviv has displaced Jaffa in the Palestinian imagination. For instance, when the facilitator of a peace mission in Palestinian-controlled Nablus asked people what their vision of peace was, a Palestinian artist replied 'visiting Tel Aviv and watching the sun set.'34 On the other hand, the attachment of the remaining Arab population to Jaffa has grown significantly during the past two decades. In part this has corresponded with the larger trend toward increasing Palestinianization of Israeli Arabs in the wake of the reunification of all of Mandatory Palestine after the Six Day War and the outbreak of the Intifada in 1987.35 However, this nationalistic re-imagining of Israeli Arab identity has also added greater relevance to the question of territoriality.36 In fact, there were 246 The 'New-Old Jaffa' several violent protests in Arab Jaffa during the 1990s, and Arab community leaders have called for Jaffa's municipal independence (a demand that has won some support among Jewish residents of Jaffa, who also see themselves as excluded from the larger municipality's plans for their neighbourhoods). Moreover, in response to continued attempts by the Municipality of Tel Aviv to evict long-time Arab residents, Jaffa's Arab community's leadership has threatened a 'housing Intifada in the streets . . . declaring with a loud voice that we are planted here and that they will not be able to uproot us from our homes the way they uprooted the orange and olive trees.'37 This focus on rootedness is deeply imbedded in the Jaffan - and the Palestinian - psyche, as evidenced by the painting by Jaffan artist Suheir Riffi depicting a mother nursing her child rooted into the earth and connected through it to her dilapidated home (figure 9.2).38 Globalization, Architecture and Planning in Tel Aviv-Yafo The specificities of contemporary Jewish and Arab imaginings of Jaffa have influenced the way the Jaffa-Tel Aviv region has experienced globalization and attempts by Israel's leadership (and the leaders of the Municipality of Tel Aviv, in particular) to transform Tel Aviv into a 'world' city. This drive to 'globalize' Tel Aviv may be understood as part of an effort by city leaders to shape and deploy a unique identity, separate from the rest of the country - especially from Jerusalem. The apparent success of this effort has left planners, architects and commentators to wonder 'what to do with a world city that is so different from the rest of the country in which it is located.'3'-' Israeli social scientists have also conceived of and analysed Tel Aviv as a global city, focusing on its entrance into international markets, the increasing disparities between rich and poor, the 'marketization' of social services such as the education system, and the influx of increasingly illegal migrant guest workers (upwards of 100,000 of whom are now said to live in the Tel Aviv metropolitan region).40 Likewise, most architects working in Tel Aviv have refused to criticize the municipality's planning policies for 'global Tel Aviv', which call for building high-rises throughout the city to maximize the market value of its land. The eminent Dutch architect Peter Kook, who has worked in Tel Aviv, has described the present Tel Aviv 'style' in a manner that contextualizes it within the political psychology of a significant proportion of the country's Jewish population. For Kook, contemporary architecture in Tel Aviv consists of . . . paranoia on the one hand, and the world-wide trend of the worship of money on the other. The paranoia is reflected in the fact Israeli architects are 247 Consuming Tradition, Manufacturing Heritage closed to any outside styles, they only see what the Housing Ministry does, and not what's going on in the wider world. The power of money rules here in a dominant way on both aesthetics and on urban planning . . . Also, there is a psychological factor. Israeli architects take the fortress as their model . . . the security room in their apartments. They are afraid to do more elegant architecture here, with more feeling, because maybe something will [destroy] the building.4' í í »PPS, to--;. v fr t i .j.■■■.*£■■■'■ .j- ■(■* 'v. '■ V-- V-A"- "í'"' '■? í. ^^.*?í*: Figure 9.2. Painting by Jaffan artist Suheir Riffi, exhibited in the 'To Live Within a Picture Exhibition,' Jaffa, 1997. (Courtesy by author with courtesy of artist.) 248 The 'New-Old Jaffa' The political, economic and discursive roles of architecture in Jaffa and Tel Aviv during this century bear out Michel Foucault's belief that 'architecture and its concomitant theory never constitute an isolated field to be analyzed in minute detail; they are only of interest when one looks to see how they mesh with economics, politics, or institutions.'"'2 Certainly, both Jaffa and Tel Aviv, in particularly Tel Aviv, did use town planning as a tool in the 'war over land' during the Mandate period.4' Yet, not surprisingly, much of Israeli planning literature has avoided any discussion of the Arab minority that would disturb the carefully apolitical suppositions upon which it is based. Instead, such writing has focused on planning as 'change-oriented activity,' in order to 'shift attention away from the document - the plan - to the political process whereby intentions are translated into action.'44 Thus, for example, in a recent edited volume on planning in Tel Aviv, a chapter on 'Conflict Management in Urban Planning in Tel Aviv-Yafo' consisted of a case study of underground parking in stores in central Tel Aviv.45 In another chapter, Tel Aviv's chief municipal engineer, Baruch Yoscovitz, explained that there has been very little true planning in the Jaffa-Tel Aviv region since the work of the eminent Scottish planner Patrick Geddes in the mid-1920s: 'Instead of comprehensive planning, these days we have 'pragmatic planning'.'4Ŕ What Yoscovitz failed to mention in his lengthy analysis, however, was Geddes's specification that 'with all respect to the ethnic distinctiveness and the civic individuality of Tel Aviv, as Township, its geographic, social and even fundamental economic situation is determined by its position as Northern Jaffa . . . The old town, the modern Township, must increasingly work and grow together ... for Greater Jaffa.'47 Moreover, however 'pragmatic' the dynamic of planning in Tel Aviv, the chief engineer himself has been an important actor in ongoing battles between the municipality and the Arab residents of Jaffa over the development of Ajami and the Jaffa port. It is clear, then, that it is precisely the documents, or texts, that are pivotal to understanding the larger discourse of planning, particularly when planning takes place in 'frontier' regions such as Jaffa's Arab neighbourhoods.48 Within frontier regions under the sovereignty of post-independence settler colonization movements such as Israel, spatial policies are often used as a powerful tool to exert territorial control over minorities. On an urban scale, majority-controlled authorities exercise more subtle forms of spatial control through land use and housing policies, and in so doing, they create segregation between social groups.49 This is particularly true when, as in Israel, the government has taken almost all planning and development powers out of the hands of local Arab communities. The discussion has thus far suggested that the goal of any analysis of planning in the Jaffa-Tel Aviv region should be to clarify the complex web 249 Consuming Tradition, Manufacturing Heritage of relations between governmental, semi-governmental, and pseudo-governmental organizations and institutions that control the planning system in Israel. The number of institutions involved, and the complexity of their relations, indicates that, despite claims to the contrary, planning is highly politicized and ideological.50 But what is new in this equation in Israel today is the increasingly prominent role that private interests are beginning to play, in Jaffa in particular, and how this shift has altered the internal boundaries within the land and planning system, while maintaining the traditional Israeli focus on permanent Jewish ownership ot as much land as possible.51 Fuelled by a larger discursive, even epistemological, shift in Israeli society, the strategic shift toward privatization in city planning has led to a situation in which planners chart a course of development focused on middle- and upper-class Israelis, implemented through private developers, which implicitly pits Jews against their Palestinian co-citizens. Thus, Arab land has been expropriated; the construction of new, privately-developed Jewish housing has been approved; and the new Jewish 'owners', who have invested time and money in their new homes, naturally take the lead in fighting against the claims of the previous (now 'illegal') Arab inhabitants. This is how the government, working through private developers, has brought the economic interests of liberal Israelis in line with perceived 'national' interests vis-ä-vis increasing Jewish ownership, control, and presence on the land.52 How and why have such policies become so embedded in the city's (and the country's) political economy that they have been rendered nearly invisible, or at least unremarkable - especially when a stroll through Jaffa, or a glance at a map, will show that from both an architectural and a planning perspective, Jaffa's development, and Ajami's in particular, have closely mirrored that of Tel Aviv?53 A review of the history and discourses of post-1948 planning in Tel Aviv and Jaffa may provide some insight into these matters. In the postwar/unification planning of the early 1950s Jaffa and the surrounding villages were considered 'slums'. As such, they were scheduled for rehabilitation, the goal of which was to redevelop the 'ancient city of Jaffa' and the surrounding neighbourhoods under the slogan 'today slums, tomorrow seashore parks'54 (figure 9.3). However, by the early 1980s a new generation of 'renewal' efforts had begun in the older neighbourhoods of Neve Tzedek and Lev Tel Aviv, prompted by a structural reorganization of the city's economy that had begun in the previous decade. This effort sought to 'reviv[e| the region as a space for living in the center of the city by drawing a mainly young population to it.' Both Neve Tzedek and Lev Tel Aviv featured architecture that made them attractive for gentrification. Lev Tel Aviv, having already undergone extensive reconstruction in the 1930s, featured the International Style buildings that had placed Tel Aviv 250 The 'New-Old Jaffa' jinTüiö i^ ji1 im m I mm 1 |i 1 U aft W% Ms aS mm mm SEASHORE PARKS "irm nvii a» usni 'íi «ni! mnuin TOMORROW TODAY SEASHORE SLUMS PARKS Figure 9.3. Cover of 1954 issue of the Tel Aviv Town Gazette (Yediot Tel Aviv) featuring plan for the rehabilitation of 'slum' areas, most of them formerly Arab neighbourhoods, into 'sea shore parks.' (Courtesy of Yediot Tel Aviv.) on the architectural map. Neve Tzedek featured much older buildings that attracted a bohemian crowd trying to escape both austere International Style architecture and what Tel Aviv University geographer Juval Portugali has described as a postmodern fetishization of consumption, which had recently taken the ironic form of an easily identifiable, uniform 'postmodern style'.S5 In fact, there has been something of a rebellion by many residents, and even some architects, against the consumer-driven architecture of the 1970s, as symbolized by the numerous tall residential and office towers in 251 Consuming Tradition, Manufacturing Heritage or near Neve Tzedek.56 This indicated a major change from the time in the early 1970s when the municipality had bragged about how the 'leap up into the skies . . . improved the appearance of the city, adding an extra beauty to its landscape.'57 Such renewed appreciation for the city's older architecture can be interpreted as part of a general trend in 'postmodern architecture' against modernism's clean break with the past. Postmodern architectural sentiment has tried to employ a type of 'historicism; historical quotation; an architecture of memory and monuments ... a search for "character", unique features, visual references.'58 Yet it can also be explained as part of the process by which architecture, and art in general, has become ever more commodified to cater for consumer tastes (an ironic development in light of the desire to move away from a visually consumerist lived environment). Viewed in this light, the 'renewal' of neighbourhoods like Neve Tzedek can be understood not as preserving the past, but rather as rewriting or inventing it. Thus, buildings and districts have been renovated, restored or rehabilitated to correspond to ideal visions of the past, and at the same time to satisfy contemporary needs and tastes by incorporating new technologies and designs." If the gentrification of Tel Aviv's older neighbourhoods has generated and reflected contradictory impulses and desires, the process has been even more complicated in Jaffa, which despite being officially part of Tel Aviv, is heavily invested with symbolism as Tel Aviv's alter ego. How has this separation been mediated? The answer becomes clearer if one considers how through the various Zionist/Israeli visions of 'ancient' Jaffa, the neighbourhood has become 'a discursive object created by Israelis as part of turning Israel . . . into particular socio-political spaces."50 If Jaffa is seen as a frontier region, it further becomes clear how the spatial policies of the municipality have been used as a powerful tool - much like the power of Orientalist discourse as described by Edward Said - to exert territorial control over, and physically shape, this discursive yet material space.61 In the resulting process of cognitive and physical boundary demarcation between Tel Aviv and Jaffa, Jewish 'yuppies' moving to Jaffa 'see residential exclusivity and the redeeming modernizing impact of Zionism as simply engendering a demarcation between two types of territory.'62 In this vision, Jaffa has served as the historical 'other' of Tel Aviv, thus Tel Aviv has used the historic Jaffa to justify itself. At the same time, having been liberated from its Arab identity, and united with its daughter city, Jaffa has been presented as continuously undergoing a process of renewed youth and progress, the life blood of which is the architectural and planning policies of the municipality. Nevertheless, the neighbourhood's renewal has been dependent upon its permanent fixture in time and space as 'ancient' or 'quaint' - the ideal site for tourist and elite development. In fact, if a fear of building imaginatively has led to an architectural 252 The 'New-Old Jaffa' 'tragedy' in Tel Aviv, Jaffa has become a space where the imagination, although remaining under government supervision, has had freer reign.63 In other words, as 'picturesque' has become the architectural fashion, the government has realized that 'old, dilapidated Arab neighborhoods have an "oriental" potential.' Thus, the function of the numerous rehabilitation projects of the past two decades has been to expand commerce, tourism and hotels in line with the 'specific character' of the area.64 More specifically, 'today the slogan is, "gentrify!" As land becomes available, it is sold on stringent conditions that only the wealthy can meet.'61 As one architectural critic put it, the current style among the Jewish architects practising in Jaffa is to build with arches, 'thousands of arches, wholesale'66 (figure 9.4). As one Israeli architect has explained, the end result of this process has been expressed in 'the systematic erasure of the identity of the city of Jaffa as an Arab city.'67 This may seem ironic given the 'Oriental' feel of current building styles; but in fact Jaffa has had to be emptied of its Arab past, and its Arab inhabitants, in order for architects to be able to re-envision it as a 'typical Middle Eastern city', and construct new buildings based on this imagined space.68 It is within this framework that Peter Kook has explained why recent attempts to 'preserve' Jaffa cannot be taken at face value: This is not 'preservation' [shimor], this is Disneyland. The old city and the new projects that attempt to preserve the Arab architecture are cheap imitations. Figure 9.4. 'Thousands of arches, wholesale' featured in new construction in Jaffa. An article in the Tel Aviv newspaper Ha'ir. (Courtesy of Ha'ir.) 253 Consuming Tradition, Manufacturing Heritage The 'New-Old Jaffa' more decorative, intended for tourists . . , It's for entertainment or amusement (msha'sha'a), so why not?69 Tourism and the New Market Discipline When the world economy and the peace process faltered during the tenure of former Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, Israel's finance minister explained that the key to the country's continued economic growth was the reai estate market, of which the Tei Aviv metropolitan region is the centre. Such a view has clear implications for current 'renewal' efforts in Jaffa. Obviously, it signals that the municipality will have even less freedom, or incentive, to commit its resources to a poor minority community sitting on valuable land.70 The influence of such market discourse is readily apparent in current planning in Jaffa. Thus, on the one hand, current policy guidelines have declared that the new regional plan for Tel Aviv must involve residents in planning and work to increase housing for young couples.71 Yet when Arab community leaders have complained that most young Arab couples cannot afford to live in Jaffa, officials have responded by explaining that 'the market is the market'72; and that 'selling some apartments more cheaply would hurt profits.'73 The most important impact of the marketization of planning in Jaffa has been the partial or total privatization of several of the bodies directly responsible for the rehabilitation of the quarter since the mid-1990s. Until then as many as 90 per cent of the housing units in Jaffa were partly owned by the government, and a large part of the real estate in Jaffa was in the hands of quasi-governmental companies such as Amidar and Halmish.74 Since then, however, the transfer of development projects to private developers has been described by Jaffa's Arab councilman (in the same language, it is worth noting, used by the Jaffa newspaper ctl-Jam'iah al-Islamiyyah in 1932 to describe burgeoning land conflicts in Jaffa-Tel Aviv, and in Palestine as a whole) as a major turning point for the quarter.75 One such project that has been partially transferred to private developers involves the redevelopment of Jaffa's port, home to a fishing industry supporting 250 families. The stated aim of this project is to 'resurrect and develop old Jaffa's harbour as an area of tourism, recreation and sea sport.'76 This is to be done by linking the port directly to the lived area of the old city through the construction of as many as 4000 elite residence and hotel units.77 The symbolism surrounding the port gives a clue to how such a project will be realized. Thus, the official Tel Aviv-Jaffa guide of the Ministry of Tourism explains how ... the old city today is alive, her buildings and alleys restored amidst cobbled streets and green parks as a thriving artist's colony . . . great care has been given to developing Old Jaffa as a cultural and historical center while 254 preserving its Mediterranean flavor . . . Jaffa Marina [part of the development project] has been established in the heart of the ancient port . . . and offers all a sailor could desire . . . Visit Old Jaffa anytime. By sunlight and starlight, it is the 'jewel' of Tel Aviv.78 Project Shikum [Rehabilitation] is another such project ostensibly designed to 'develop and rehabilitate Jaffa.' It was turned over by the municipality to a private developer, Yoram Gadish, in 1996. But when Tel Aviv Municipality to terminate Gadish's contract, a new private company headed by former Tel Aviv Mayor Shlomo Lahat was awarded the contract to continue the neighbourhood's gentrification.79 One might note how this relationship - involving the Tel Aviv Municipality, a historic tourist landmark inhabited by Arabs, and a private development company headed by a former mayor - is identical to that in East Jerusalem vis-ä-vis the City of David project, which is headed by former Mayor Teddy Kolek.80 An interview with representatives of the Gadish company while it was administering Project Shikum revealed the thinking underlying both the Jaffa and Jerusalem projects - and thus the discourse governing Israeli planning on both sides of the Green Line. According to Gadish, the goal of the project was ... to develop Jaffa because Jaffa is not developed . . . that is, develop infrastructure, sewers, streets, schools, etc., and to develop the empty lands in Jaffa. We want to revolutionize Jaffa [lhafoh et Yafo], to change Jaffa from a neighborhood with so many problems to a tourist city -there's lots of potential for development into a tourist city . .. But you need to have a plan, and like New York or anywhere, sometimes you have to destroy a building as part of development for public needs, and we're working with a committee of architects and the Municipality . . . However, the residents want to keep the status quo because development increases prices, and their children won't be able to live and buy apartments there; also Arabs won't go to other cities like Bat Yam, Herzliyya because there are no services for them. They can go to Lod and Ramie, but they're not ready to go and don't want to develop . . . but with Jews [Jaffa] becomes more beautiful and develops.81 The Andromeda HiSS Project The paradigmatic example of the intersection of new global, market-based, postmodern architectural discourse in Jaffa with the almost century-long Zionist/Israeli imagination of the city is the Andromeda Hill project, where basic units were advertised at well over US$300,000 (figure 9.5). Constructed on property at the top of the Ajami Hill, with a commanding view of the port and ocean below, Andromeda Hill has billed itself as 'the incomparable Jaffa . . . the New-Old Jaffa.' 255 Consuming Tradition, Manufacturing Heritage THE SEA, THE AMAZING VIEW, THE INCOMPARABLE JAFFA The first original has teen sold. The second original has been sold. The third original has been sold. And now there's Building No. 4 - 3 rooms apartments for míc - $391,000. Andromeda Hill bj the sea ■ to She in the original. ANDROMI.D\llil I ■ 'HI M W-OLDJAFFA Ptat* visit our »ite olfice/stow Hal lit M Yaffet s.. Tel: «72-3-6ÖSa4S.f as: 972-3-6W» Wa. Tel AvK. tao! KpKientitivehdieüK Lor.-»CashJlRu*■■" i* R S The 'New-Old Jaffa' To help orient prospective customers on its website, the Andromeda Hill virtual brochure explains that 'historic Jaffa' lies to the north of the development, the 'picturesque fishermen's wharf of Jaffa' to the west, and the 'renewed Ajami district, where the rich and famous come to live' to the south. The Hebrew version stresses the architecture of the place even more, in line with the greater importance of architectural discourse in Israeli culture.82 Moreover, the section of the website entitled 'The Legendary Jaffa' recounts the Greek legend of Andromeda, which supposedly took place on a large rock facing the city outside of Jaffa's port. It explains how 'Andromeda became a symbol of awakening and renewal, and it is not by chance that the project was named "Andromeda Hill", expressing the rebirth of old Jaffa.' When asked why and how such an architectural design and advertising campaign was chosen for Andromeda Hill, one former employee explained: The municipality decided on the style - the windows, the columns, the materials - after going around Jaffa and looking at the buildings... The style was very eclectic - Arabic from the beginning of the century influenced by European (specifically Italian) architecture. . . . Arches were a main symbol in a project of this size . . . We didn't use real stone (except in a few places), but rather a manmade material called 'GRC, which is fake stone. In terms of the ads, you have to think about who's going to buy there . . . they expected people from abroad to buy it. Jaffa today is not a nice place, you have to think about the future, what will be attractive. People aren't living there because of the sea, because there's sea all over Israel, they're living there because of the nostalgia, the atmosphere.83 The Andromeda Hill discourse, like that of Gadish, exemplifies the conflation of architecture and planning, market forces and government control, that comprise the forces at play in the continuing 'war over land' in Ajami.84 In fact, visitors to the complex are shown a short video before their tour, whose narration concludes by explaining how 'Andromeda Hill is, in essence, a city within a city' - within Jaffa. This is almost identical to the language used by the founders of Tel Aviv to describe the Jewish position in Jaffa almost one hundred years ago, when they celebrated having created 'a state within a state in Jaffa'. The social, political, and spatial implications of such a discourse are also identical - that is, in each case Jaffa is the object of 'economic conquest' (as Arthur Ruppin described it ninety years ago) by Jewish residents from Těl Aviv.85 Such imagery takes on added significance if one recalls Peter Kook's equation of Jaffa with Disneyland and the belief by proponents of global America that 'the wretched of the earth just want to go to Disneyland if given the chance.'86 Like Disneyland for most of the world's poor, the virtual reality that increasingly cohabits the space of contemporary Jaffa 257 Consuming Tradition, Manufacturing Heritage can only be viewed from beyond a 'secured gate' by most residents of Ajami.87 In Isra-Disney, Jaffa, as symbolized by Andromeda Hill, becomes an 'urban masterpiece', a site of 'artistic renaissance', and 'a museum of magnificent architecturally designed buildings'5* - a carnival of sites, sights, and sounds that excludes those who cannot afford the entrance fee. Conclusion: Spatializing Arab Jaffa More than a century ago Iŕieodor ŕierzl explained what was necessary to create a Jewish state in Palestine: 'If I wish to substitute a new building for an old one, I must demolish before I construct.'89 Five decades later, at the height of the era of modernist planning, the French architect and city planner Le Corbusier - several of whose disciples became prominent Zionist planners and architects - quoted a famous Turkish proverb to epitomize the modernist ethic: 'Where one builds one plants trees. We root them up.'90 From a similar but more critical perspective, Henri Lefebvre has explained how 'the "plan" does not remain innocently on paper. On the ground, the bulldozer realizes "plans".'91 This chapter has tried to demonstrate that Jaffa can be understood as a space of both negation and identification for Tel Aviv, and that such ambivalence reflects the larger relationship of the Israeli state toward the Palestinian communities living within its pre-1967 borders. In fact, the entry of Arabs into the Israeli 'national self, or even the self-definition of the Israeli state, is both ambivalent and paradoxical - precisely because of the primacy and power of planning as a vehicle for such articulation. Arab inclusion into the project of modern Israel is ambivalent in that postmodernist architectural sensitivity towards Jaffa's Arab heritage has remained 'superficial' and economic in orientation. It is paradoxical in that the aim of current place-oriented postmodern architecture has been to entice a 'global' (and implicitly, non-Arab) elite, and disallow the potential of political identification from Jaffa's Arab community. The double economy of fixing Jaffa for the Orientalist gaze and developing it along the lines of a market economy implies both the commodification and de-politicization of the Arab community. The contested space of Jaffa and Tel Aviv further epitomize the complex manner in which architectural movements have been inscribed in the politics of national identity in Israel: first erasing 'tradition' (through International Style), and then reclaiming it (through discourses of heritage promoted by postmodernist architecture). Both movements have been expressed in economic as well as political idioms in the process of constructing the political identity of the nation-state. Such is the dynamic governing the politics of urban design in contemporary Jaffa. Such a linkage of the metaphors of erasure and rebuilding, and their function as the ideological underpinnings of the Jewish state, has, however, 258 The 'New-Old Jaffa' long been recognized by the country's indigenous inhabitants.92 Thus, community leaders objected to a 1985 development project by explaining that the development policies of both the Tel Aviv Municipality and national-government agencies had generally involved using 'legal' and 'planning' mechanisms to destroy homes and expropriate land from Arabs.'" Indeed, the concerted efforts to 'preserve'/erase Jaffa's Arab character or heritage have had a profound effect on the way residents experience the city. On the one hand, while residents attempt to reclaim the city by Figure 9.6. Painting by Jaffan artist Suheir Riffi, exhibited in the 'To Live Within a Picture Exhibition,' Jaffa, 1997. (Courtesy of artist.) 259 Consuming Tradition, Manufacturing Heritage referring to streets by their original Arabic names, artists paint Jaffa as empty and vacant (figure 9.6). On the other hand, many residents, --í*"* •"?.«: ÜS8HR ■. .'šVÄSŕifíe'fí-.' .'■■víí¥?*jSÄií&- '.:•.. «Infi.-.■■..?.'■ ~ Saft" Ä'^ÄV ''",'V--•:*...■'.: "*. .: _ '"'V-, \ ,'■■■■■■' f\. ■■"»_ \. vi . «.*"ř*v.. * .' ■ ítťif.ř.rWrV ■■ í ■ ;&&. m?* ■tm\ iSpÄr ■ 'fe.>.J-¥Jŕ3iiiíi^^.;"Jí■í^^Kw;í^1| 1 "•"-"jHrífcSíísB»"Sŕ^liÄ.' ■-SSŕ'Jľ r^^pá^i—_— ~ -**aHÉ- V. SÄsV'^-ŕi^-'^ŕ'f^sV^^r *■*!*."■*■' ^:^*^-A.^ífŕ■:, ', ' . .ífi-í '■..■■'/«Hi. .«.»■■v"**-! P^t^l,; SřaWSBSsĚS^íŠffiíSÉ.. -r Figure 9.7. Poster for 'Jaffa Festival' on one of the main streets in Tel Aviv. (Photo by author.) 260 The 'New-Old Jaffa' including the former head of al-Rabita,"4 the local Arab community organization, have expressed their belief that the policies of the Tel Aviv Municipality have only strengthened the ties of most of the Arab community to Jaffa and its Arab identity.95 Prevented from expressing its identity through design and planning of its lived environment, Jaffa's Arab population has articulated its identity through 'spatializing social activity'.96 This has included art festivals, original theatre, organized protests (which became violent in 1994 and 1996), and the fight to return original Arabic street names - or, barring that, appropriating the language of Ajami's luxury developments and deploying it to document its consequences.97 Thus, a 1997 festival jointly sponsored by local Jewish and Arab grassroots organizations in support of a large group of families threatened with eviction from their land was called the 'Sumud Festival' - sumud being the well-known Palestinian slogan for remaining rooted on the land. The festival featured a poster of a bulldozer confronted by a fist rooted in the earth. Its caption read 'Here we Remain ... We are not alone'98 (figure 9.7). These activities should be seen as a form of architecture - indeed, the only form of architecture available to Arab residents, who are prohibited from planning or building their own lived environment." By constructing an alternative landscape, a 'poetic geography' in opposition to that of Zionist/Israeli Tel Aviv, the Arab community has 'cognitively redefined the borders of Jaffa' to include parts of Tel Aviv, such as Neve Tzedek, that historically lay outside Jaffa's borders.100 This has provided the impetus for the recently intensified calls for 'autonomous' municipal independence from Tel Aviv.10' Jaffa can also be understood in terms of Henri Lefebvre's concept of 'representational spaces' - that is, spaces that are linked to the clandestine or underground side of social life: the space of inhabitants, as opposed to the space of planners and political authorities.102 Lefebvre has characterized this dimension of space as 'imagined'; and it is here that possibility of 're-imagining' the spaces of Jaffa and Tel-Aviv can most felicitously be entertained.1"3 Lefebvre's analysis helps show that the spatial system of Ajami and Arab Jaffa is characterized 'not by one social space but by many . . . The worldwide does not abolish the local,' however much it might want to.104 Notes 1. The four-year Project on Cities and Urban Knowledges of New York University's International Center for Advanced Studies (at which I was a fellow during 1997-1998, and where many of the ideas presented here germinated) has produced significant new empirical and theoretical research to support this contention. For further analyses of the role of the city in the modern and 'global' periods, see inter 261 Consuming Tradition, Manufacturing Heritage alia the works of Henri Lefcbvrc, David Harvey, Manuel Castells, Saskia Sassen, Janet Abu-Lughod, Nezar AlSayyad, Gwendolyn Wright, Nan Ellis, David Gregory, John Urry, Peter Hall, Anthony King, and James Holston. 2. For a discussion of the implication of the fading away of the state on the contemporary dynamics of identity formation, see M. Castells, The Power of Identity, Oxford, Blackwell Publishers, 1997. 3. Cf. D. Tzafrir, Jaffa: A Glance at Adjami: An Architectural Profile, Tel Aviv, City Engineer's Department, 1 995; and M. LeVine, 'A Nation from the Sands?' National identities, vol. I, no. i, i999, pp. \5~oo. 4. M. LeVine, 'Conquest through Town-Planning: The Case of Tel Aviv,' Journal of Palestine Studies, Summer, 1998; and LeVine, 'A Nation from the Sands?' 5. O. Stendel, The Arabs in Israel, Brighton, Sussex Academic Press, 1996, p. 54. 6. Quoted in T. Segev, 1949: The First Israelis, New York, Free Press, 1986, p. 75. 7. Quoted in Ha'ir, May 2, 1997, p. 24. However, newly arriving immigrants quickly moved into the abandoned houses, and the plan was not carried out. The five other villages surrounding Tel Aviv, much of whose land had already been incorporated into the town-planning area of Tel Aviv in the previous decade, were similarly emptied of their Arab inhabitants only to be re-inhabited by Jews. 8. As Gideon Levi explained in an editorial in Ha'aretz (The Time to Count has Arrived,' May 25, 1997), in the eyes of many veterans who fought in the battle for Jaffa there was no alternative to emptying the city of its Arab residents. Writing in the voice of one of those veterans, Levi rhetorically asked: 'What would have happened to the Jewish state, if, for example, the residents of Jaffa had remained? How would the first Jewish city be seen that is next door?' 9. Amos, 9:14. 10. See Yediot Yafo, 10/62, p. 11. For an analysis of the name changes, see A. Mazawi, 'The Chosen Street Names in Jaffa Before and After 1948: Ideological Contents and Political Meanings,' unpublished article in al-Rabita Archive [RAJ, General j'am] File. Most side streets in Jaffa are still only numbered. However, the local population does not refer to them as such, preferring to use local landmarks such as corner stores or mosques/churches to navigate through the city. Today the Arab community is still greatly concerned about the problem of street names in Jaffa. 'The street names do not express the character of the area and the names relate to Jewish Rabbis and events without connection to the cultural and historic life of the Arabs of Jaffa.' Thus, they want both Arabic street names and road signage in Arabic (RA, General File, 'The Society for Jaffa's Arabs, Agenda for meeting with Tel Aviv Mayor Roni Milo,' April 18, 1997, pp. 13, 15; cf. February 21, 1995, letter from al-Rabita to Tel Aviv mayor, included in appendix to Agenda). 11. A. Golan, 'The Demarcation of Tel Aviv-Jaffa's Municipal Boundaries following the 1948 War: Political Conflicts and Spatial Outcome,' Planning Perspectives, vol. 10, 1995, p. 391, 12. ibid., pp. 393-94; and Tel Aviv Municipality, Tel Aviv: People and their City, Tel Aviv, 1974, pp. 5-6. 13. Y. Schnell, 'The Formation of an Urbanitě Life Style in Central Tel Aviv,' in D. Nachmias and G. Menahem (eds.), Social Processes and Public Policy in Tel Aviv- 262 The 'New-Old Jaffa' Yafo, vol. I, Tel Aviv, Ramot Publishing House, 1993, p. 41. The term 'yuppy/dinkie' describes young urban professionals with double incomes and no children. 14. Source: Statistical Yearbook of Tel Aviv Municipality, 1997, p. 59. The proportion of Muslims to Christians increased from 51.5 per cent to 42.9 per cent in 1961, to 62 per cent to 37.3 per cent in 1995. 15. M. Semyonov, N. Lewin-Epstein, and H. Mendel, 'The Labor Market Position of Arab Residents of Tel Aviv-Yafo: A Comparative Perspective,' (Heb.), in in Camillas aiiu ivieiiaiicm (eui.;, SucTui 1 rocesses ana ruulic l'o'ucy in Tel Avw-'iajo, vol.11, 1997, p. 195. 16. Position paper drawn up by leading activists, sociologists and educators for Jaffa Councilman Nassim Shaker to use in the debates over the 1997 budget (summarized in A. Waked, 'Milo Worries about Jaffa. Here are some examples,' Ha'ir, December 27, 1996, p. 30). 17. Source: M. Semyonov, N. Levin-Epstein, and H. Mendel, Tel Aviv University report on the economic situation of Jaffa's Arab community, reprinted in Ha'ir, July 11, 1997, p. 34. The report noted that the number of Arabs employed in the public sector diminished from 23 per cent in 1983 to 4.6 per cent in 1993 - an 80 per cent reduction. The researchers could not include figures relating to budgetary allocations from the Tel Aviv Municipality to Jaffa because the municipality refused to turn over the relevant data. Furthermore, it should be noted that more than 50 per cent of the Arab population of Jaffa is 19 years of age or younger. 18. H. Lefebvre, Writings on Cities, E. Kofman and E. Lebas (ed. and trans.), Oxford, Blackwell Publishers, 1996, p. 51. 19. New York Times, April 30, 1998, p. Al9. Another report called Tel Aviv 'unabashedly sybaritic' (S. Schmemann, 'What's Doing in Tel Aviv,' New York Times, December 21, 1997). 20. C. Kummer, 'Tel Aviv: Secular City, Where Israel Meets the Modern World,' The Atlantic Monthly, December 1995. Cf. 'Survey of Israel at 50,' Economist, April 25, 1998, p. 18; and Schmemann, 'What's Doing in Tel Aviv.' Kummer continues: 'If you want to stroll down an Israeli street lined with quirky, forward-looking shops, or sit back and enjoy a relaxed meal in a restaurant that cares about elegance and service, Tel Aviv is the place.' Cf. Economist, 'Survey of Israel at 50'; and he Monde, April 25, 1998. 21. As a 1941 article described it (Tel Aviv Municipal Archive [TAMA], 4/3565, 8/41 article by L.V Beltner entitled 'City of the Jews'). I offer a critique of this portrayal of Tel Aviv as having been built away from, and thus not infringing upon, Arab-inhabited land in my 'Conquest through Town-Planning.' 22. Cf. J. Holston, The Modernist City: An Anthropological Critique of Brasilia, Chicago, University of Chicago Press, 1989, p. 5. 23. Economist, 'Survey of Israel at 50,' p. 18. 24. Cf. J. Gorny, 'Utopian Elements in Zionist Thought,' Studies in Zionism, vol. 5, no. 1, 1984, pp. 19-27. 25. Kummer, 'Tel Aviv: Secular City.' 26. A. Mazawi, 'Film Production and Jaffa's Predicament,' Jaffa Diaries 263 Consuming Tradition, Manufacturing Heritage (compilation of email communications from former and current residents of Jaffa contained at Jaffa Website www.yafa.org), February 9, 1998. These shows have included the popular 'Jaffa Portraits' crime series, which aired on the 'Family Channel' (H. Kaye, 'A "Portrait" of Aviva Marks,' Jerusalem Post, March 25, 1997, p. 7). 27. Official 'Tel Aviv-Yafo' guide of the Ministry of Tourism and Tel Aviv Hotel Association, 1997. 28. State of Israel, Ministry of Defense, Museums Unit, Brochure of the Museum of the I.Z.L; and Eretz Israel Museum, Guide to Yafo, for Self-Touring, Tel Aviv, 1988. 29. Ministry of Tourism, Official Guide to Tel Aviv, 1997, pp. 23, 32. This theme of the beauty and quaintness of Jaffa at night was already being used in articles in the local Hebrew Jaffa paper Yediot Yafo as far back as 1963. See 'There's Nothing Like Yafo at Night,' Yediot Yafo, 7/63, p. 4. 30. Tel Aviv Municipality, Tel Aviv: People and their City, pp. 3, 5-6. 31. Al-Ayyam, May 19, 1997. Story on the Jaffa Internet discussion group. 32. Palastin, May 9, 1946, p. 2. 33. S. Tamari and R. Hammami, 'Virtual Returns to Jaffa,' Journal of Palestine Studies, vol. 27, no. 4, Summer 1998, p. 73. 34. April 1998 meeting sponsored by 'Face to Face.' Other bourgeois Palestinians with the ability to travel freely in Israel also have told me of their fondness for visiting Tel Aviv. 35. Elie Rekhess reaches a similar conclusion of increased 'Palestinianization' of Israeli Arabs in the wake of the Six Day War. See his The Arab Minority in Israel: Between Communism and Arab Rationalism, 1965-1991, Tel Aviv, Tel Aviv University, 1993, p. 84. Cf. Y. Schnell, Perceptions of Israeli Arabs: Territoriality and Identity, Brookfield, VT, Avebury Press, 1994, p. 2. 36. As Yitzhak Schnell writes: 'The substance of nationalism is a combination of ethnic identity with the right to territorial sovereignty' {Perceptions of Israeli Arabs, p. 26). Cf. A. Bishara, 'On the Question of the Palestinian Minority in Israel,' Theory and Criticism, vol. 3, 1993, pp. 7-20. Also see his 'The Arab-Israeli: Readings in an Incomplete Political Discourse,' Journal of Palestine Studies, vol. 24 1995, pp. 26-54. 37. RA, public declaration of al-Rabita, June 24, 1997, entitled 'We Will Not Leave Because We Are Planted Here' ['Ian nuraha innna huna manzura'una']. 38. The community has also established ties with the Palestinian National Authority, corresponding with PNA President Yassir Arafat and hosting visiting PNA ministers. Moreover, several delegations of Jaffans have visited Amman to meet with the local Jaffa Society (many bourgeois Jaffans, especially Christians, who fled to Amman in 1948) and put on a music and art festival about Jaffa, at which a senior al-Rabita member rhapsodized the phrase 'Jaffa is Palestine, Jaffa is Palestine' in a speech to the assembled guests. In fact, in internal meetings of al-Rabita that I attended, some younger members, in particular, were clearly anti-Zionist (although by no means anti-Jewish), and heated discussions took place surrounding the relationship with the Tel Aviv Municipality, Arab identity, education, and how much to remain within the Jewish cultural and educational system of Tel Aviv. 264 The 'New-Old Jaffa' 39. T. Margolit, 'Cities of the World, Twin Identity,' Ha'aretz, May 2, 1997, p. B6. 40. In terms of the entrance into international markets, see Nachmias and Menahem, Social Processes and Public Policy in Tel Aviv-Yafo, vol. I, p. 294; and A. Shachar, The Planning of Urbanized Areas: A Metropolitan Approach and the Case of the Tel Aviv Region,' in ibid., vol. II, p. 312. In terms of the 'marketization' of social services, see Ha'ir, February 28, 1997, p. 31; September 26, 1997, p. 37; and June 6, 1997, p. 30. For a revealing personal account of the life of African workers in Tel Aviv, see Ha'ir, September 19, 1997, p. 54. A 1