Friday August 7, 1998
Israeli academic elite ponder an `almost impossible' life
JOSHUA MECKLER Bulletin Staff
And as the elite are wont to do, they're engaging in discourse. A picture of Israel begins to coalesce. "Here, life is almost impossible," says Nadine Cohen, one of the dinner's hosts and a native of France who wears her black hair in a shoulder-length bob. Cohen, a genetics researcher and professor at the Technion, has a unique point of reference. She lived in the Bay Area from 1986 to 1991 while doing postdoctoral work at Stanford and working at UCSF. "I loved living in California, and I very often ask myself, `Why did I move [to Israel]?'" says Cohen, who made aliyah in 1995. "Everything is easy there, to the contrary of being here." What bothers her about Israel? "The ways people drive cars, the way they talk. You can hardly trust some people. People here live under pressure because of the political situation. You're always under pressure." Of course, sitting in a half-million dollar home outfitted with large pieces of modern art and a baby grand piano, and enjoying bountiful quantities of couscous, salads and breads, it's hard to feel any pressure -- unless one is worried about spilling on the carpet. But these moments are clearly an exception to the rule for these Israelis. Cohen, who works in the Technion's medical school, often sees wounded soldiers who have been brought to Haifa from the nearby Lebanon border. The hospital is located near a navy base where training exercises are frequently held. Once, Cohen says, a guest from abroad was delivering a seminar when she was interrupted by sounds of shooting from a nearby military exercise. The speaker was visibly shaken. "The poor girl giving the seminar," Cohen recalls. "We told her, `This is the way we live here.'" In contrast is Cohen's son, who is still in elementary school but has adjusted to Israeli life in the three years since the family immigrated to Israel. "He's used to seeing helicopters in the sky and hearing the marine commando base nearby," she said. Cohen's husband, Robert Elbaz, the literature professor among the dinner group, finds fault with a different aspect of Israeli culture. During the meal, when he's not insisting that his guests consume large portions, he explains that he is distressed by the increasing consumerism of Israel. "Here, everyone is after the dollar, even worse than in the States," says the Moroccan-born Elbaz, whose salt-and-pepper beard and glasses befit his profession. "I know of people who import caviar by plane." He adds, tongue-in-cheek, "It has nothing to do with the fact that Israel is the 52nd or 53rd state of America. The American dream is everywhere, and I don't know if it's such a good influence. I'm not talking about democracy or freedom of the people. I'm talking about being materialistic." One could argue, however, that Elbaz's home is the perfect example. "I can't afford it, but I live in it," he admits. Another economic issue which is common in both Israel and the United States is the difficulty of obtaining research funds. This is of special concern to Cohen, whose research involves mapping and cloning the genes for rare, inherited metabolic disorders. The government "supports us, but you can't compare it to the support you get in the States," Cohen says. The best Israeli scientists, she says, get annual grants that max out at $75,000, while the average researcher receives only $15,000 to $20,000 per year. Given the extensive costs of equipment, that kind of grant doesn't go very far. Soon enough, as dinner turns into dessert, the conversation hits upon the topic of the day -- the peace process, or lack thereof. Cohen, concerned that her opinions may be publicized, opts not to say much. But she does reveal, "It's easier to support [Prime Minister Benjamin] Netanyahu from outside of Israel. Three years ago, when Rabin was alive, there was so much hope." Elbaz, on the other hand, is more open. "The two big parties in the middle think alike," he says of Labor and Likud. "The problem is the splintered parties; the small parties have power, and to maintain the government, Netanyahu has to cater to the religious right. "There is surface discourse going on, but my feeling is that there is something going on which can't be spoken aloud because of political pressure." Still, he feel that "in the end, peace will happen. There is no other choice." With the difficulties of living in Israel, one might wonder why Cohen and Elbaz stay put with their young son. "It's an interesting country," Cohen explains. "We all feel very much involved in any event at the political and social level. It feels like home like in any other country we've lived."
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