1989: Israeli protest song is born of three mothers

1989: Israeli protest song is born of three mothers

In the midst of the first intifada, patriotism in Israel was on the rise. It was us (The Israeli military) against them (rioting Palestinians and the hostile international press). Few dared to challenge that axiom.

The music scene certainly didn’t seem eager to do so. With a market as tiny as this, local musicians tend to feel that they have a lot to lose by being controversial. Consequently, Israel had little in the way of a protest song tradition at the time. There was authentic satire in Chanoch Levine’s political cabarets of the 70’s, but these tunes were confined to the theatre stage and never became hits. There was wry criticism in the works of songwriter Yankal’e (Jacob) Rotblit, who lost a leg in the Six Day War, but his material tended to be mild. Even Rotblit’s “Song for Peace”, which criticizes Israel for obsessing with fallen soldiers rather than working to prevent future loss, is palatable to the general public. Many sing it without paying attention to what it actually says.

Then, in the midst of 1989, three very different artists went on to redefine the Israeli protest song with great courage. All three of them were female singers, and all three got sharply criticized for taking a stand. Two of the three actually hurt their careers, and while they both recovered, the memory of drama stuck to their names.

Chava Alberstein was already a hugely acclaimed folk singer. In 1989, on her album “London”, she released this version of “Had Gadia”, an ancient Aramaic song usually sung at the end of the Passover seder.

The original “Had Gadia” recounts a long chain of violent acts: The father buys a lamb, a cat bites the lamb, a dog devours the cat, a stick hits the dog, fire burns the stick, water extinguishs the fire, a cow drinks the water, a buther slaughters the cow, the angel of death kills the butcher and God himself kills the angel of death.

Alberstein sang all of this in a mix of Hebrew and Aramaic. Then, at the end, she offered a new verse, one which alludes to another Passover song: “what has changed”, the song of four questions. A translation of this verse follows.

Why am I singing Had Gadia?
Spring isn’t here and passover hasn’t arrived.
And what has changed? what changed?
This year, I changed.
On all nights, all nights,
I would ask four questions
Tonight I have another question
How much longer will the circle of horror last?
The chased chases, the beaten beats
When will this maddness end?
And what changed? what changed?
This year, I changed.
I was once a sheep and a peaceful lamb
Now I am a leopard and a predator wolf.
I was a dove and I was a deer.
Now I don’t know what I’ve become.

Listeners did not miss Alberstein’s point. She dared to reference the irony of the occupation being maintained by the nation that suffered the holocaust. That was an absolute first. The Israeli public was shocked.

Singer Nurit Galron was also an established star by 1989. She came from a jazz background and sang beautiful musical renditionss of works by modernist Hebrew poets. Her 1989 single “After we’re gone, let the flood come” wasn’t one of these poems. Galron herself wrote its lyrics.

there is a country of stones and Molotov cocktails
and there’s Tel-Aviv, ablaze with nightclubs and obscenity.
There is a country of rebels, who bandage their wounds
And there’s Tel-Aviv, where we party, live, eat and drink.

No, don’t tell me about a little girl
who lost her eye.
It just makes me feel bad, bad, bad.
It just makes me feel bad.

I have no patience for the depressive, tortured types
and I don’t care what’s happening in the territories.
Don’t tell me about “the Yellow Wind”, about detainees and dissenters
We’ll make love, live life
Tel-Aviv is life.

No, don’t tell me about a little girl
Who lost her home.
It just makes me feel bad, bad, bad
It just makes me feel bad.

I have no patience for moralistic types
Lets devour the bustling streets of Tel-Aviv

No, don’t tell me about a little girl
who lost her childhood.
It just makes me feel bad, bad, bad
It just makes me feel bad.

Let’s live Tel-Aviv, it’s right here.
After we’re gone – let the flood come.

Galron’s song was banned on Galei Tzahal (IDF Radio), the dominant, army-run radio network.

A third protest song of the same year stood no chance of being played by Galei Tzahal to begin with. Inspired by punk-music traditions and having nothing to lose to begin with, A young, openly lesbian singer named Sharon Ben-Ezer (who goes today by the name “Eliot”) went further than both Alberstein and Galron. “A Hero from the Defense Forces” was included on the the first album of Ben-Ezer’s band, “Polianna Frank.” She put feminist theory into the mix and truly broke ground.

Here on the clip is a small reminder that not only women expressed outrage. The man seen at its very beginning is Yoav Kunter, a Galei Tzahal DJ. At around the same period he got suspended after dedicating Bob Dylan’s “With God on our side” and Pink Floyd’s “One of these days” to the racist Rabbi Meir Kahane.

The male likes death
It makes him sexually aroused.
Anyway dead from inside – the male wants to die
to cruise in the Jeeps
to complete the training camp
to smoke cheap cigarettes, to improve his tan
to fuck quickly, to always climax first
to get rid of her in two weeks
to pay the bill.

Yes, I’d also like to be a hero in the defence forces
and I’ll also have a beautiful woman waiting for me in bed
and when I’m done taking care of everything
She will give me a hand job and say: ahh! you’re amazing.

To find the one who’s easy, to run and tell the guys
to make a lot of money, to drive the fastest car
to screw the secretary, to drink without worry
always to smell badly and never to cry

Yes, I’d also like to be a hero in the defense forces
and I’ll also have a beautiful woman waiting for me in bed
and when I’m done taking care of everything
She will give me a hand job and say: ahh! you’re amazing.

To be a high ranking officer, to kill the enemies
and always have a hard-on, no problems and no complications
If I could, I’d been a farmer
but meanwhile I’m a violent, happy pig.

Yes, I’d also like to be a hero in the attack forces
and I’ll also have a club to club with.
and when I’m done taking care of everything
She will give me a hand job and say: ahh! you’re amazing.