MICHAEL VISONTAY
THE Israeli government’s communications chief Ron Dermer recently declared that Israel needs to change its image abroad. Dermer has set himself a tall order.
In an interview with The Age a few months ago (04/07), he said: “It is not enough for Israel to say that it wants peace. You must also say that you are not a thief. We did not steal another people’s land. That is the core of this conflict.”
He added the following: “The combined narratives of Israel as a Jewish state, the importance of Jerusalem to the three great faiths of Judaism, Christianity and Islam, and the Middle East’s tremendous oil reserves, made a compelling world story that Israel should try to influence. Within this story is this narrative that has grown much stronger in recent years that is essentially false: people who see us as colonialist invaders.”
His analysis may be right, but his instinct about how to overcome the problem is flawed. It is legitimate to argue that Israel did not “invade” Gaza and the West Bank in 1967, but rather, re-occupied territories to which it had a historical right of ownership.
However, while Israel continues to occupy the West Bank and build new settlements there, any public relations campaign that is based around its right to the land is doomed to fail. It’s like trying to put out a fire by pouring oil on it.
The biggest problem with Israel’s international image is that it’s one-dimensional: bombs, disputed land, clashes, peace talks. All are variations on the same theme -– conflict, aggression, hostility.
Many other countries have histories of conflict with ethnic and religious minorities, but they have never been defined by them. Think of Russia and Chechnya or Georgia; China and Tibet; Indonesia and Timor; or France and Algeria.
These conflicts have received substantial, sometimes blanket coverage, yet all of these countries have created and nurtured counter narratives that sit above the conflict narrative. That is the public relations strategy Israel needs to pursue: actively promoting the social texture that gives the world something else to grab onto, and more importantly, enjoy. In diplomatic speak, they call it “soft power”. In ordinary language, we call it culture.
If Dermer is serious about changing things, he would persuade the government to launch a bid for the Olympic Games or World Cup. It would fill the media with a fresh story: Israel as a modern nation with an ambition to host a major event that showcases the country’s flair and know-how. Even if the bids fail, it would create a new narrative for both Israelis and the rest of the world.
The raw material is already there. But Israeli culture needs a circuit-breaker to push it up above the violence. Here’s an example of the problem. In July, an Israeli film called Noodle screened in Australia. It’s a moving, funny-sad drama about a Chinese boy who is trapped in Israel, and the attempts to reunite him with his mother in Beijing.
The story is a classic, modern-humanist tale of illegal immigrants and warm-hearted locals. It could have happened anywhere. It happened to be an Israeli story and because of that, no-one went to see it, despite uniformly good reviews. After two weeks, Noodle was showing in two cinemas, once a day. The night my family saw it, there were seven people in the cinema.
When Australians hear “Israeli film”, they either think of Palestinian conflict or Holocaust legacy. That image has made it virtually impossible to sell films such as Noodle on its merits, like the American, English or French feel-good flicks so many people flock to.
For Israel to turn things around, it needs to make more films such as Noodle, as well as more comedies. It has to promote books, music and other stories that reflect the sophistication, fun and modernity of its cosmopolitan life. It has to showcase its personalities in business, science, the arts -– roll out the local equivalents of Bill Gates and George Soros, and create a star system in the cultural sphere.
That is the perception Israel must battle, and here is a question it must address: if Jewish humour, food and culture are so prized within other societies, why do Moroccan and Lebanese cuisine have so much more “brand power” than Israeli cuisine, whose main claim to fame here is the Israeli army diet? The battle for land is one thing, the battle for hearts, minds, cinemas and stomachs is another: equally, if not more, important.
Michael Visontay lectures in media at the University of NSW.
