Dan writes: “I don’t think Israelis are going out of their way to discriminate against the Ethiopians. They are just involved in their own life’s struggles and don’t have the time or patience to help the newer olim integrate into society. Other immigrant groups didn’t receive such coddling either. They were just expected to integrate by themselves, like the Yemenites, who also came from a primitive culture, yet found a way to blend in. Perhaps if they were exposed to the religious environment of Israel, rather than just the secular, they would not be seeking to adopt an identity they don’t really understand and is antithetical to the Jewish values that drew their parents to Israel in the first place.”
Sari Bashi writes for the AP in 1999:
JERUSALEM – Batya Tadela, a 16-year-old Ethiopian immigrant to Israel, used to be hurt and insulted when people called her “kushi,” a Hebrew word commonly used to refer to blacks.
But now, like many young Ethiopian immigrants weathering tough times, Tadela has found an unlikely source of solace, pride and identity: America’s black culture.
The fact that most of these Ethiopian teenagers have never visited the United States or even met a black American doesn’t prevent them from embracing rap music and hip-hop fashion, along with sometimes misguided stereotypes gleaned from MTV, movies and news reports.
“All the Ethiopians try to imitate the (American) blacks,” said Tadela, who emigrated from the Gondar region of Ethiopia seven years ago and lives near Tel Aviv.
Not-so-promising land
For centuries, Ethiopian Jews dreamed of reaching Israel. Much of the 65,000-member community here arrived in 1985 and 1991 through a series of dramatic airlifts. Thousands of others perished trekking through brutal conditions in the Sudan desert on the way to airlift departure points.
But for many Ethiopians, Israel has proved something less than a promised land. As a group, they remain at the bottommost rung of the country’s economic and educational ladder, still struggling to find social, religious and cultural acceptance. In addition, Ethiopian traditions of indirect communication and quiet respect are often drowned in the din of Israel’s competitive, in-your-face mainstream culture.
Nineteen-year-old Or Masrak uses a good chunk of her pay as a drugstore clerk to dance at a rap-and-reggae nightclub in Tel Aviv.
No feelings of rejection
“When we listen to black music, we don’t have to feel rejected,” she shouted over the pounding beat. “Here, we come together and learn to stand up for our rights.”
While overt racial discrimination is relatively rare, many Ethiopians feel the sting of what they see as Israeli disdain for them as newcomers from a primitive country.
Because many parents can’t provide their children with school supplies or a quiet place to study, some teens attend state-run boarding schools attended by Israeli youngsters from troubled homes. In some neighborhood grade schools, there is de facto segregation that Ethiopians feel has meant a lower standard of education.
The Ethiopians’ high-school dropout rate exceeds 17 percent, or more than double the national average, the Education Ministry says.
Young Ethiopians’ attraction to black American culture worries Ethiopian community elders, who fear teens are distancing themselves from their own traditions.
“To be Ethiopian is not `in,’ ” said Shula Mula, an activist at the Israel Association for Ethiopian Jews. “But to be Michael Jackson is to be admired by Israelis.”
Media nurtures black stereotype
Most Ethiopian teenagers are familiar only with stereotypical depictions of black life in the United States: either the despair of drugs and crime or the glamour of sports and music stardom.
For most, this infatuation manifests itself in ardently following black American music and fashion. For a few, it takes the form of hard-edged racial rhetoric.
“I don’t talk to whites,” said a 16-year-old in baggy jeans and sneakers who calls himself Tupac after the slain American rapper Tupac Shakur.
“It’s a form of protest,” Ethiopian lawmaker Addisu Masala said of teens who identify with American blacks. “When a child feels that he’s not wanted here, he looks for an alternative identity.”
Younger Ethiopians see in black American culture a vibrant energy and a chance for success against the odds.
“When I see American movies that show a lot of blacks succeeding, it makes me feel good,” said Shmuel Batla, a 22-year-old cook. “If he can succeed, so can I.”
