I open and close every episode of Unpacking Israeli History with a plea to our audience: reach out to me. Send me a note. Drop me a line. Slide into my DM’s. Though I don’t really know what that means, but sounds cool. The point is, I love hearing from you.
Thousands of you have sent the most amazing emails. And I respond to as many as I can – and by the way, if you’re like, what the heck Noam, I emailed you and you didn’t respond, I’m so sorry, please email me again and nudge me, and I will get back to you…unless you’re one of those people who writes words like “shame on you” for sharing perspectives from the right, or “disgusting of you” for sharing perspectives from the left because that’s just boring.
99.9% of the time, I love these emails, because I love hearing what’s on your mind. I keep learning more about our Unpacking Israeli History community. You are a smart, introspective, thoughtful, interested, interesting, and engaged audience and you ask poignant, relevant and interesting questions. I’m lucky – LUCKY – to have listeners like you and to be in community with you.
So in that vein, today, I’m excited to share a new Israel Open Mic episode, that’s right, where we explore the elements in Israeli history and society that you’re curious about. I’m curious about these topics, too.
Today, we’re going to take two listener–submitted questions and try to answer them. Or, if not answer, then at least understand them better. Of course, links to our resources and other relevant episodes are in the show notes.
Ok, you ready? Yalla. Let’s do this.
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Q1: The Green Line
Our first question comes from listener Emily. She writes:
Hey Noam, (hey Emily, how are you doing?)
Thank you for what you do on your podcast. Every episode gives me more ownership over my people’s story – which is especially important when it feels like so many people want to explain our story their own way. Thanks to you (and your team, of course), I feel armed with information and context that helps me understand history and share that knowledge with others.
To that end… can you do an episode on the Green Line? I see it referenced in interviews and protests about Israelis living in the West Bank. I know it has something to do with Israel’s borders before the Six Day War. But being a long-time UIH listener, I’m sure there’s more nuance to it than that. What am I – and all of those other folks – missing?
Sincerely, Emily.
Emily, I love this question. The Green Line is absolutely something we should discuss, because it’s a part of Israel’s history that continues to shape political, legal, and cultural debates today. Some invoke it as the internationally recognized boundary of Israel, some as a framework for a two-state solution, and others reject it altogether, seeing the land beyond it as inseparable from Israel’s story, the Jewish story.
So let’s get into the Green Line, what role it really played in Israel’s history, and what significance it carries today.
[Swoosh Sound]
As we so often do on this show, let’s rewind to 1948.
On May 14th of 1948, David Ben Gurion stands on a makeshift podium in a Tel Aviv museum and declares the re-creation of the Jewish State – Medinat Yisrael.
On May 15th, the very next day, well, you know what happened. Armies from five of Israel’s Arab neighbors invade the day-old country. Egypt, Syria, Lebanon, Jordan and Iraq all gang up against Israel.
Long and very thrilling story short, the scrappy Israel fended off attacks from all five nations. Check out our series on the War of Independence for the version of that story that’s more than one paragraph long…because spoiler alert, it was not as simple as “tiny Israel fends off might five Arab armies”….much more to it than that. (Hey, it’s an Open Mic. We gotta keep it moving but really, that three parter is gassss as the kids say.)
The fighting officially ended in 1949 with Armistice Agreements between Israel and four of the five attacking nations. Iraq never formalized an end to the war with Israel. I guess that’s just something you can do when you don’t actually share a border. But Egypt, Lebanon, Syria and Jordan each got their own Armistice Agreement with Israel.
It’s worth noting what an Armistice actually is here, because Emily, many of us don’t know what it is, because it’s not the same as a peace treaty. Nobody surrendered, and there were no formally acknowledged winners or losers.
An Armistice is a temporary stop in fighting agreed upon by opponents. It’s like a ceasefire, but more formal, with paperwork and signatures and all that stuff that makes it official. Did they have docu-sign back then? I wonder.
The Armistices (not sure if that’s the plural of armistice, but not easy to say either way) in 1949 included maps of the region that marked the lines of the ceasefire. So you know where the green line got its name from? It must be some brilliant poetic concept or a reference to something biblical from 2500 years ago! Actually…no. Those Armistice Lines were drawn using a green wax pencil. Hence the term “Green Line.” I kind of love that, honestly.
At the end of the day, the Green line was a ceasefire line – basically an acknowledgement of where the opposing military forces were at the time of said Armistice. And it was never intended to be a permanent border.
But don’t take my word for it. Here’s what it says in the actual Israel-Egypt Armistice:
The Armistice Demarcation Line is not to be construed in any sense as a political or territorial boundary, and is delineated without prejudice to rights, claims and positions of either Party to the Armistice as regards ultimate settlement of the Palestine question.
There it is. The Green Line was never meant to be a border. It was a temporary ceasefire line until such time as a more permanent peace treaty could be negotiated.
But that never happened. Israel’s neighbors, humiliated by the outcome of the war, were not interested in committing to any kind of peace with Israel.
So the Green Line stuck, and it did serve as Israel’s de-facto border until 1967.
But even border is a tricky word here. Because a border is only a border when other countries agree to it. And that was decidedly NOT the case in 1949 with ANY of the nations Israel Armistice-ed with. In their eyes, Israel didn’t exist, kinda like a unicorn or Atlantis, or the fountain of youth…or like Godot (that was a deep literary reference there!) so it couldn’t possibly have borders – just a line that the IDF was protecting.
On the other hand, practically speaking, it did serve as a formal division between Israeli territory and not-Israeli territory. If you were west of the Green Line with Jordan, you were considered, for all intents and purposes, in Israel. East of the line, you were in Jordan. Jordan even granted citizenship to all the Palestinians living east of the line, officially calling these people Jordanians.
And here’s an important long parenthesis for you with some good intel:
Before 1948, the territory was widely referred to as part of Palestine (under the British Mandate, it was “Mandatory Palestine”).
After the Arab Legion took control in 1948 and Jordan annexed the area in 1950, King Abdullah deliberately changed the terminology.
Instead of calling it Palestine or even Western Palestine, Jordan renamed the region the “West Bank,” to distinguish it from the East Bank of the Jordan River (today’s Jordan proper).
The new name was an administrative, geographic term that fit Jordan’s political goal…which was…to idea of a separate “Palestine” and make the area appear as a natural extension of the Hashemite Kingdom.
“West Bank” sounded neutral, geographic, and technical, compared to the highly charged historical term “Palestine.”
Jordanian state documents, parliament, and school curricula all used “West Bank” from that point forward, but Palestinian nationalists often continued to speak of the land as Filastin (Palestine). The Palestinian Arabs were losing their identity not because of Israel, but due to their Jordanian leaders! How about that?? A new little factoid for your next kick back.
And it stayed that way… until 1967: the Six Day War. Again, check out our series on this war. Really, it’s worth it.
But here’s the briefest version I can give: Israel was once again at war with multiple neighbors on multiple fronts: this time, Egypt, Jordan and Syria. And once again, Israel – in maybe even more shocking fashion – defeated these enemy countries.
By the end of the war, The Israeli Military controlled roughly 3 times as much land as they started with, including the Golan Heights, the Gaza Strip, the Sinai desert, and the West Bank, which included East Jerusalem.
Hundreds of thousands of kilometers of land were now under Israeli control, along with all of the Palestinians who called that land home. And they were not happy about it.
Neither were the countries who, once again, tried to eliminate Israel and who, once again, found themselves worse off as a result.
Almost immediately, there were cries for Israel to return the land. The most formal of those cries came in the form of UN resolution 242.
The resolution itself isn’t very long, but it’s written in UN Resolution legalese, so I’m going to give you the relevant bullet points:
1: Israel is not entitled to keep land just because they won it in a war.
2: Israel should withdraw from territories occupied in the recent conflict. (By the way, note that phrasing: “Withdraw from territories.” Not the territories. Not all territories. Just territories. We’re going to come back to that very important detail soon.)
3: All states involved should stop messing with each other (my words), and respect each other’s sovereignty, territorial integrity and political independence.
4: All of this is necessary to achieve a just and lasting peace in the middle east.
There are also some details in there about demilitarized zones and access to international waterways – you know, classic UN resolution stuff – but the gist is pretty simple: Israel should give back land and there will be peace.
It’s a nice idea, UN, and one that many Israelis wanted as well. In fact, Israel officially accepted UN 242. And so did Jordan. Peace ensued, and the Middle East lived happily ever after. The end.
Whoops – you caught me daydreaming. Sorry about that.
Obviously, that’s not what happened. Israel and Jordan did both agree to the resolution in theory but the daydream of peace inevitably ran up against the reality of negotiation. And there was one recurring sticking point.
Jordan demanded that Israel go back to the Green Line. They wanted Israel to withdraw from all of the newly gained territory.
But Israel was adamant. That was NEVER going to happen.
For one thing, part of the territory Israel won, captured in 1967 was the Old City of Jerusalem, including the Kotel, the Western Wall. For the first time in 19 years, Jews could once again pray at their holiest site. But the moment carried even deeper meaning: after nearly two thousand years of exile and yearning, Jews were able to return, freely and in sovereignty, to the place they had prayed toward for generations.
And there was just no way Israel was going to give that up.
Israel’s refusal to return to the Green Line wasn’t just about connection to ancient holy sites. There was a second, far more pressing concern for the vast majority of Israelis. This was really important.
Israel needed at least some of the newly gained land for security. They needed it as a buffer between the enemy’s military and the major population zones of Israel. Without that buffer, everyday Israeli citizens would be sitting ducks for a future attack.
In fact, the usually dovish Abba Eban, Israel’s Minister of Foreign Affairs – coined an evocative nickname for the pre-1967 borders. He called them “The Auschwitz Borders.”
Here’s what he said in a speech to the UN just two years after ’67:
We have openly said that the map will never again be the same as on June 4, 1967. For us, this is a matter of security and of principles. The June map is for us equivalent to insecurity and danger. I do not exaggerate when I say that it has for us something of a memory of Auschwitz. We shudder when we think of what would have awaited us in the circumstances of June, 1967, if we had been defeated; with Syrians on the mountain and we in the valley, with the Jordanian army in sight of the sea, with the Egyptians who hold our throat in their hands in Gaza. This is a situation which will never be repeated in history.
Was it heavy handed to use a Holocaust reference? Maybe. But it wasn’t really an exaggeration. And if you want to put the empathy cap on, it was the way many Israelis (and Jews around the world) were feeling only two decades removed from the Holocaust. That’s right. In the leadup to the Six Day War, many Israelis and Jews around the world believed they were about to be annihilated. So no, calling them “Auschwitz Borders” wasn’t hyperbole from Abba Eban. It was a frank assessment of how indefensible the Green Line borders were.
And it wasn’t just Israel who saw that. So did Lord Caradon, an English diplomat and architect of UN Resolution 242, which demanded Israel return territory conquered during the Six Day War.
(Quick but very important nerd corner alert here: I feel it’s important for you all to know that Lord Caradon is the man’s title. His legal name is Hugh Mackintosh Foote.
Hugh. Mackintosh. Foote. I have no commentary there. I just love knowing that and wanted to share it with you.)
Anyway, his Lordship, the Honourable Foote, made it very clear that he didn’t think Israel should give back ALL the land they took. That’s why he was specific with the phrasing, “Israel should withdraw from territories occupied.” Not all territory.
Here’s what he said to the Journal of Palestine Studies in a 1976 interview. And just so you know, when he says “the 1967 line,” he’s referring to the line BEFORE the war. I.E. the Green Line.
I’m going to try to read it in an English accent. “Arright, guv’na?” No… more Hoity toity than that… “My Good Man… Why yes, I do holiday on the continent. This scone is positively scrumptious…”
Ok. Nailed it. Ready.
We could have said: well, you go back to the 1967 line. But I know the 1967 line, and it’s a rotten line. You couldn’t have a worse line for a permanent international boundary. It’s where the troops happened to be on a certain night in 1948. It’s got no relation to the needs of the situation.
Had we said that you must go back to the 1967 line, which would have resulted if we had specified a retreat from all the occupied territories, we would have been wrong.
See? Told you the UN agreed with Israel on some stuff here.
But that distinction hasn’t stopped many anti-settler folks from demanding that Israel return to the Green Line borders and give the entire West Bank to the Palestinians.
And look, deciding what the potential borders of a future Palestinian state have been complicated since the beginning, and have only become more complicated since 1967. Hundreds of thousands of Jews now live in the West Bank, east of the Green Line. There’s now a security or separation barrier – depending on your parlance – that somewhat mirrors the Green Line, but also dips further into the West Bank in some places, cutting into Palestinian areas. Any reimagining of Israel’s borders would have to take those realities into account.
Nevertheless, the Green Line has been one of the starting points for all peace negotiations between Israel and the Palestinians. Not that any agreement would end at that line – but every attempt for peace has at least started there.
As for today…
Well, withIN the Green Line remains what we’ll call “uncontested” Israeli territory. Well, uncontested by most. Those who chant “From the River to the Sea” at pro-Palestine, anti-Israel rallies don’t seem to validate Israeli existence even within those borders.
For some, The Green Line is symbolic: a starting place for a potential Two State Solution and one possible pathway toward peace.
For others, it’s an antique – an interesting piece of history that has no real impact on the present or the future.
But this very debate makes it a living piece of Israel’s story, and I’m grateful – GRATEFUL – to you, Emily for asking about it.
Q2: The President of Israel
Our next Open Mic Topic came to me at a Shabbat meal. Not exactly a listener email, but we’re not picky.
My friend Jonah and I were talking about Israel, as one does, and he mentioned something the President of Israel said. I’m like, “wait, who said that?” And he said “Netanyahu, the President of Israel.”
Now, as I hope you’re all correctly yelling at me right now, Benjamin Netanyahu is, of course, the Prime Minister of Israel – not the President. But there is a President of Israel, too. When I said that to Jonah, he asked: “Really? Why?”
It’s a fair question.
Israel’s current President, Isaac “Bougie” Herzog, is very visible. He makes speeches at public events. He holds press conferences with foreign leaders. He represents Israel on various news outlets.
But he’s not the big name associated with Israel on the global stage nor does he have that responsibility. That is clearly and decidedly Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.
So, it’s very reasonable to wonder… who is this other guy, and why is he shaking hands with US Secretary of State Marco Rubio and all these foreign leaders? Does he matter? Does he actually have any power? So, Jonah, let’s talk about the president’s place in the Israeli government.
[Swoosh Sound]
For starters, Israel’s form of government is known as a Parliamentary Republic. Did you just start snoring when I said that? Stay with me. A parliamentary republic is a system they share with Germany, Italy, Greece… Finland… a whole bunch of other countries. It’s a pretty popular system.
In a Parliamentary Republic, there is a head of government – the Prime Minister, or Chancellor in Germany’s case. And there is a Head of State that often bears the title President.
If you’re already a little confused, I don’t blame you. Ok, let me explain this to you in a way that I wish people explained it to me. A parliamentary republic is like a team where the people choose the players (AKA parliament), and those players then pick the captain (AKA prime minister) to lead them. If the captain loses the team’s confidence, the players can swap them out without a whole new election. Unlike a presidential system, the power comes more from the group than from one star player.
So in Israel, and other such countries, the Prime Minister leads the government. Lots of power. Lots of responsibility. And once this Prime Minister is selected as captain, he or she wields a heck of a lot more power than the president of the United States of America. The President, back to Israel meanwhile, is a mostly ceremonial role. Little responsibility. Even less power. To continue my ridiculous analogy from before, think of it like this, the prime minister is the coach actually running the game, while the president is the team’s respected mascot or elder statesperson who represents the spirit of the team but doesn’t call the plays. Fine, more than a mascot, but you get it, right?
So, what does the President actually do? What does it mean to be a Head of State with no power?
For that, we go baaaack to Israel’s beginning – 1948 – where we learn that… even back then, nobody knew what the President was supposed to do. Seriously.
Not even Israel’s first president, Chaim Weizmann.
We’ve got to do a whole episode on Weizman at some point. Weizmann was a leading figure in the Zionist movement before the establishment of the State of Israel. Let me say that better. Weizmann was THE leading figure in the Zionist movement. Like numero uno. He was the guy the people around the world actually knew. David Ben Gurion (who would become Israel’s first Prime Minister) was not actually well known outside of Israel. Interesting little nugget there. You’re welcome. When Ben Gurion nominated Weizmann for the presidency, he described it as a “matter of historical justice.” Weizmann was, after all, pivotal in the drive to create a Jewish State. Ben Gurion wanted to acknowledge that by ensuring him a place in the new government.
But then… Weizmann didn’t relish the role. Mostly because there didn’t seem to be an actual role.
Here’s an excerpt from a letter he wrote to Ben Gurion that he never sent:
It is not that I do not value the great honor that this position confers upon its holder, but the president’s duties and responsibilities have not been made clear to me.… For example, I was told that the president is a symbol. To date, I have been unable to understand this vague statement, as well as who determines the symbolic importance of the President of the State.”
It’s almost funny, you can feel the frustration, a little bit of his bitterness, maybe. Weizmann had a point. There was no law dictating the role of the President. And it rankled him. Oh boy, was he rankled. (Also, sidenote, good reminder that we shouldn’t actually send every text or email we draft!)
In an interview with the New York Post, Weitzmann summed up his Presidential duties with a quote that I absolutely love:
“The only place the Government allows me to stick my nose… is in my handkerchief.”
Nice one, Chaim. That was a good bit. There’s nothing better than a good ol’ passive aggressive comment in the Post.
And it hasn’t really changed much. Every President since Weizmann has had to contend with the vague nature of the role. As a result, each President ended up shaping the job to fit his vision. Although some features of the job were formally codified as a Basic Law in 1964.
(Nerd Corner Alert: Israel does not have a formal constitution! Instead, they have a bunch of regular laws, and 14 quasi-constitutional laws known as “Basic Laws” which are more enshrined and harder to undo than the regular ones. To date, there are 14 Basic Laws on topics ranging from establishing the Knesset, to governing the military draft, to laws surrounding basic Human Dignity and Liberty. At Unpacked, we have about a million videos about that last one. Links in the show notes.
Anyway, here’s what the Basic Law has to say about the President’s job:
First, the President is the Head of State.
Thanks, Basic Law. But as we already noted, that one’s not too helpful. What else?
The President is elected by the members of the Knesset for one term of seven years and is not eligible for reelection.
The President signs all legislation – which sounds important, until you realize that the laws also need to be signed by the Prime Minister, or other government officials.
The President signs treaties… as long as they’ve already been approved by the Knesset.
And he appoints judges and diplomats… that have all been recommended by the ministries of Justice and Foreign Affairs.
Are you getting the idea? The President has his name on a lot of important stuff. But it’s all flash and ceremony.
It’s like adding your name to the family Father’s Day card. It’s not really done until you sign it, but you don’t have a real role in any of it. And you definitely don’t deserve credit.
There is at least one part of the job that puts the President in the limelight. After a general election, the President has to select which candidate is given the mandate to form a government.
Practically, that means sitting down with Israel’s various parties in the Knesset to determine which candidate has the best chance of amassing enough support across parties to form a government.
Again, vitally important. But again, the President’s role is mostly a formality. It really comes down to figuring out who has the most support.
It’s like a glorified WhatsApp Poll. But instead of asking the neighborhood chat, “what night works best for basketball?” The President asks the Knesset, “which candidate will your party support?” and gives the mandate to whoever scores highest.
Now at this point, you may be thinking, “wow. The President of Israel seems kind of pointless. Why bother having elections and paying a government salary to someone who, let’s face it, doesn’t add to the government at all?”
You’re not alone in thinking that. There have been calls throughout the years to abolish the Israeli Presidency, but those calls never gained any real steam.
Quite the opposite, in fact. Israel’s Democracy Index polls show that the President consistently enjoys a high level of trust, as compared with other parts of the government.
Here’s a quick taste of what I’m talking about just from the last ten years.
In 2015, 37% of Israelis said they trusted the government. Only 34% trusted the Knesset. But a whopping 70% said they trusted the President.
In 2020, the Knesset approval rating dropped, to 32% percent, and the government dropped to 29%. The President dropped to, but to 63% – still not bad.
In 2023, government and knesset trust were below 30%. But trust in the President stayed up at 54%.
And look, would I brag if I got a 54 on a test? Probably not. But when the Knesset is at 24, 54 is not too shabby.
Even when trust in political institutions is low, Israelis tend to trust their President. And it’s not because of any empty function he serves in the government. It’s because of what he does beyond the Knesset walls.
Because of their very limited role and influence in the government, Presidents tend to be apolitical figures.
I mean, they’re not completely apolitical. Presidents are elected by the Knesset, so they usually reflect whatever power balance exists in the Knesset. And most Presidents have been active members in their respective parties right up until their election, so there is some political baggage.
But as President, their role is to leave the world of bickering politics behind and become a unifying force. Someone who can bridge the gap between different groups within Israeli society.
In 2015 Former President Reuven Rivlin epitomized that concept in his famous “Four Tribes” Speech.
In this speech, he posited that the demographic makeup of Israel was changing. He didn’t specify whether that was a good or bad thing – just that it was happening. And that there were four groups – four “tribes” – that made up Israeli society in approximately equal measure. There were:
- One: secular Jews
- Two: Haredi Jews
- Three: Dati L’umi Jews – those who are religious, but not Haredi, maybe I’d kind of put myself in that category, or I aspire to be in many ways, but that’s a whole different conversation. And,
- Four: Arabs citizens of Israel.
Together, these tribes constituted what he coined “the New Israeli Order.”
President Rivlin decried the fact that people from these tribes live completely separate lives, with different education systems, cultures and media. They may never meet each other, or try to understand each other. And then he said this:
“If we cherish life, if the vision of a democratic Jewish State is our dream and aspiration, then today we are called on to face that reality head on, out of a deep commitment to find answers together… to put together a common Israeli vision of hope.”
And he continued:
“I call on all of you to rise to the challenge with me. Only in this way, together as partners, can we rekindle Israeli hope.”
That’s the message of a unifier. Of one who sees past politics and strives to capture the idealistic spirit of the nation. The whole nation. That’s the president’s role.
Here’s another former President (and former Prime Minister – wow this guy has done it all) Shimon Peres describing the job to the Associated Press in 2007:
“The President is not an executive officer. Is not a legislator. Is not a judge. But is free to dream, to inspire, to elevate, to offer directions and destiny…”
By the way, if that warm voice and iconic accent sound familiar to you, you’re not crazy. Shimon Peres is one of the voices in our theme at the top of every episode. If you already knew that… five points for you!
Does that mean the President always stays away from the hot button political issues?
I mean… they’re still Israelis. With opinions. And Israelis be sharing opinions.
So no, Presidents have not always silenced themselves when they see a political issue they feel strongly about.
In 2018, former President Reuven Rivlin was very blunt when he declared the new Nation State Law was “Bad for the State of Israel and Bad for the Jews.” (Check out our episode on the Druze for more about that – link in shownotes).
And in 2023, current President Isaac Herzog didn’t mince words when he weighed in on the judicial reform controversy, warning that the country was headed toward “civil war,” and that the soul and future of the nation were at stake.
But divisive, political statements are the exception. As a rule, the President is meant to be a unifier. A representative of the spirit and values that form the common core of all Israelis.
It’s why President Herzog meets with foreign leaders and discusses the lofty goals of peaceful coexistence.
And he is one of the people who mourns with the family of Hersh Goldberg, and delivers a eulogy at his funeral on behalf of the state.
As a human being, aAs a father and as the President of the State of Israel, I want to say how to sorry I am. How sorry I am that we didn’t protect Hersh on that dark day. How sorry I am that we failed to bring him home.
Yes, the job is mainly ceremonial. Yes, it’s more a symbol than an actual job.
But symbols matter. And if the Presidents are a symbol of Israeli unity and idealism, then I, for one, am glad they’re there.
And that, friends, brings us to the end of this Israel Open Mic Episode. Again, I want to thank Emily and Jonah for prompting this episode – your questions truly make this show happen.