I use two main analytical concepts: economic citizenship and gender contracts. The first connotes the idea that civil entitlement should be somehow conditioned on individual economic productivity. The second represents a generic cultural script regarding the appropriate balance between care and cash work in normative femininity and masculinity. These are two generic cultural schemas that bind together morality, belonging, gender, and economic productivity. Arguably, they are too crude for a satisfactory grounded analysis, as their practical implications differ vastly across and even within cultural settings. At the same time, their analytical value lies precisely in their generality. The ethnography looks at the local adaptations of these general schemas. I explore how they travel globally and how they adapt to specific subsettings within a single political entity: How does the idea of measuring civil entitlement by individual economic productivity make sense in a locale dominated by collective, ethno-national sentiments? And what specific tokens does it assume for Jews and for Palestinians? How does the preoccupation with the economic productivity of women, and minority women at that, fit in with a cultural atmosphere of enduring racist and patriarchal attitudes? And how does the idea that normative women should work for cash and even become economically independent adapt across social classes, national collectivities, and gender regimes?
Thematic Concerns
Community Economic Development
For several decades now, but mainly in the past twenty-odd years, approaches to reduce poverty in postindustrial countries have come strongly to focus on local communities. At the background are several historical processes: social movements, such as the civil rights and the feminist movements that fostered community-based agency already in the 1960s and 1970s; global processes of economic restructuring, which generated substantial pressures to reduce government bureaucracies and privatize welfare; and neoliberal beliefs in the market’s capacity to self-regulate and achieve optimal results in all spheres of human activity, including the handling of poverty and social inequalities. The incorporation of these processes into contemporary schemes of community economic development (CED) has meant, among other things, moderating the old socialist conviction that capitalist profit accumulation is the prime generator of class inequalities and social injustice. Gradually, the view that the main engine of economic growth is not labor and direct production but profits made in the business and financial sectors has become common wisdom beyond the circles of hard-core capitalists. Growing numbers of actors in progressive grassroots and academic circles have shifted their efforts from struggles to limit and regulate such profits by supporting strong state interventions and unionized work to becoming partners in programs to channel them directly from corporations “back to the community.” Usually the streaming of funds has also entailed inculcation of the ethos of profit making, thus opening the door wide to the involvement of corporations in poverty reduction schemes, not just as financial benefactors but as ethical and cultural leaders.
As mentioned, and as will be shown ethnographically in Chapter 1, the cross-sectorial collaborations of businesses, government, and civil society organizations, which occur as part of CED schemes, have complex social effects. They tend to tame and some say coopt radical worldviews, but encounters on the ground yield refreshing interchanges among actors from very different social locations. These encounters facilitate the mainstreaming of critical and feminist outlooks, and legitimize minority claims for inclusion, by reframing arguments for women’s and minorities’ rights as “diversity” rather than as political radicalism. But at the same time they propagate neoliberal tenets, primarily that individual self-fulfillment is the key to social and economic success, into grassroots milieus that have traditionally focused on structural violence and political oppression.
These general characteristics of community economic development are to be found in the Israeli social economy as well, albeit with specific implications that are discussed at length in Chapter 1. Three themes in particular inform the ideological bridging in Israeli social economy: the national division between the dominant Jewish majority and the subordinate Palestinian minority, the intra-Jewish cleavage between Mizrahim and Ashkenazim, and the contradictory singling out of women as problem subjects and agents of change. Economic empowerment initiatives throughout the country, with their mission of reaching out to groups on the margins, operate precisely where the tensions surrounding ethnicity, nationality, and gender are the greatest: at their intersection with the lower-class and social periphery. These projects bring together, in pragmatic day-to-day operations, lower-class women from any number of subgroups: old-time Mizrahim, more recent Jewish immigrants from the former Soviet Union or Ethiopia, Palestinian-Israelis of various religions and lifestyles, and ultra-Orthodox Jewish women. They likewise assemble social activists from these different groups together with professionals, scholars, state officials, and donors.
In more than one respect, the encounters created in the field are very untraditional, and therefore challenge their participants to address issues that are difficult to talk about. The long-lasting discrimination against Mizrahim, which official discourses tend to downplay by treating it as a thing of the past, or the subordination of the Palestinian citizens, which Jewish Israelis generally prefer to overlook in the name of national security, are made acutely present in the projects. To accommodate these and related tensions, a certain semantic labor attempts to depoliticize them without denying them. Notable expressions here, which I analyze in some detail, are the familiar Israeli trope of “the social,” which indicates that a certain topic is not political and therefore presumably less explosive than it may appear; or the English term “diversity,” which is used interchangeably with “multiculturalism” to urge tolerance for the claims of Palestinian Israelis. The overwhelming focus on women, lastly, has the oxymoronic effect of bringing feminist jargon to the heart of mainstream debates while reinforcing the stigmatization of women as needy subjects who lack the natural instinct for self-sustainability.
Another important preoccupation of CED projects, besides economic justice and social solidarity, is to reinforce democratic culture. The idea of corporate social responsibility (CSR), now a widespread subindustry in the field worldwide, encourages businesses to integrate social and environmental concerns into their activities by volunteering resources, skills, and workers’ time to community projects. As detailed in Chapter 5, this common practice, which is rationalized as a win-win situation—the well-being of businesses is seen as co-dependent on that of society—is increasingly also articulated in terms of good citizenship. Adding an overtly moral tone to the familiar emphasis on economic optimization, CSR discourses preach social involvement, active re-sponsibility, and some restraint on rampant profit making as corporations’ contribution to a sustainable democratic culture.
The democratic claims of CED platforms are fraught with contradictions, as is the field throughout. One source of incongruity is the neoliberal embedment of these claims. Under neoliberalism, writes Ahiwa Ong (2006), the elements that we think of as blending to create citizenship—rights, entitlements, territoriality, a nation—become disarticulated and rearticulated. In Israel, where civic privileges are drawn primarily according to ethno-national belonging, the recent neoliberal focus on the perceived economic productivity of individuals (the idea of economic citizenship) entails