"Minister Pnina Tamano-Shata," calls out a man with a heavy Ethiopian accent. "For how long will the tyrants rule? Why aren't the murderers of our Tigrayan brothers being stopped? How long will this go on?
Follow Israel Hayom on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram
Just a few seconds later, Tamano-Shata calls me. "Did you hear that?" she says, excitedly. "I went over to him a few times and explained to him that his protest was justified, but he should choose another location and we should be together. But that's the point. From his perspective. I am his representative and he sees me as the address for his grievances."
"The first Ethiopian minister" is a title that carries a lot of weight. On the way to the meeting, a friend ponders the twist of fate – the politician who said that the state prefers white immigrants and doesn't like Blacks has become the aliyah and integration minister. She probably thought she would bring a few Ethiopians to Israel and then, suddenly, Putin dropped a bomb with Ukraine.
Tamano-Shata doesn't agree with the analysis. "Absolutely not! When I took up my position at the Ministry of Aliyah I made it very clear that I would be a minister for everyone. And that isn't just lip service. I'm a loyal servant of the people of Israel who must return home. It's a national mission. Do you know what it means for someone who was a new immigrant herself, who came here during Operation Moses, to be responsible for the absorption and immigration of others? Think about our journey to the Land of Israel. All of the Keisim (spiritual leaders) with their white robes, walking through the desert. I'm a three-year-old girl, barefoot, coming to Israel without my mother. That's the foundational event of my life. That is my Exodus from Egypt. It's not something I can forget," she says.
"Now that girl has the responsibility and the ability to influence the Jewish people. I'm not going to discriminate. We brought the Bnei Menashe to Israel, with great love, and I'm bringing my brothers and sisters from Ukraine and working for them with the same commitment with which I work for immigrants from Ethiopia," she continues.
Just before Passover, after returning from a visit to Poland and Ukraine, Tamano-Shata is holding a Zoom call with emissaries of the Aliyah and Integration Ministry, the Jewish Agency, and Nativ. Dozens of emissaries are operating throughout Eastern Europe and working day and night to get Jews away from the hell of war. Even over Zoom, one can see they are red-eyed and exhausted. But as soon as they start to get into the details of their work, they come alive.
The Jewish world donates
After the meeting, I accompany the minister to a hotel to meet new immigrants who arrived in Israel in recent weeks. Tamano-Shata tells them that she is there for them to help them deal with every problem. The hotel lobby is full of women, children, and the elderly, all fearful for the fate of those who have been left behind. Victoria, 81, can't hold in her emotions and bursts out in tears. Tamano-Shata stops talking and walks up to her.
"It's difficult to get them out of Ukraine," the minister explains. "Every minibus driver demands thousands of dollars per journey and it doesn't end there. It's an ongoing operation that sometimes takes place under fire and demands enormous resources. The Jewish world has donated tens of millions of dollars in the past month. More than 10,000 new immigrants have passed through the Aliyah Ministry's booths at Ben Gurion Airport. Before the war, I told the ministry's employees to be in contact with all the hotels and have them prepare so that it didn't just drop on them overnight," she explains.
Q: How do you cope with voices such as that of journalist Avri Gilad, who differentiated between Ethiopian and Ukrainian immigrants, and wrote that it's natural we prefer to absorb those who will become an asset and a growth engine within a short time, rather than those who will require long-term care?
"New immigrants are the country's strongest growth engine and economically, we say that for every shekel we invest, aliyah generates five shekels. Where would we be without the doctors who came here in the 1990s? On the other hand, I don't want to see immigration just on a cost-benefit basis, as 'quality aliyah.' We have to see aliyah first and foremost as a commitment, as a mutual guarantee, and yes, as Zionism. There have always been those who opposed immigration from Ethiopia and said it would be difficult for new immigrants from Ethiopia to be absorbed. But at the end of the day, looking at it from a historical perspective, it's an enormous success story. Hundreds and even thousands of academics have made a huge contribution to society. Look at our soldiers in the army, who have such high motivation.
"As Israelis, we like to complain a lot, but if we were to hold a referendum today, do you think anyone would renounce a particular ethnic community in Israel and say, 'Send them back?' I don't think our society would look like it does today without the richness and diversity that results from aliyah."
"Since the beginning of the COVID pandemic, 60,040 people have come to Israel. We're happy for every immigrant that arrives. Even if it's a case like the immigrant from France who fulfilled a lifelong dream and made aliyah on his 100th birthday and then died here that night. We are a special and unique country and no one, no matter what their moral standing, has the right to close the State of Israel to Jews from anywhere in the world."
Taking advantage of naiveté
Tamano-Shata's busy schedule takes us to Jerusalem's International Convention Center, where Chabad is organizing a Bar Mitzvah for orphans from Ukraine whose parents were killed in the war. Quite a few politicians are taking part in the event. "I don't forget that at the end of the day, politics has to serve the public interest," says Tamano-Shata. "Often the choice by politicians to speak only to their base has a detrimental effect on the fabric of Israeli society. That doesn't mean I believe in shutting people up, but the overall good of society is more important than party political interests."
Q: Is that why you defected from Yesh Atid to Blue and White, in contrast to everything your base wanted? Did you think it was for the better for the general public?
"I chose unity over division because I knew it was a much better thing for Israel. Unity is the foundation of the Ethiopian community. Look back at the situation at the beginning of the coronavirus pandemic. After three election campaigns plagued with hatred and division, we couldn't go to another election campaign that was splitting the people and corrupting us morally. So what choice did we have? To die with the Philistines? I left for the sake of unity."
Q: And now that you have experienced the 'other side,' in your view, is former coalition chairwoman Idit Silman a politician playing to her base, or is she a leader?
"First of all, I'm in favor of women doing what they believe in and what they want. I've seen Silman occasionally frustrated and on the verge of exploding, not getting what she wants. I had a feeling where she was headed a week before she actually left, when she said she wouldn't sit with someone like [Health Minister] Nitzan Horowitz. It was clear to me that she was signaling her way out. On the other hand, I still think it isn't in the public's interest for there to be elections every few months. A country simply can't function that way."
Q: Perhaps, at this point in time, elections are the appropriate democratic process. We are already talking about a government that leans, directly or indirectly, on the Joint Arab List. Where are your red lines?
"Handing over parts of the Land of Israel. Absolutely not. If immigration from Ethiopia were stopped, or immigration from anywhere else, that would be a red line. But as long as I can continue doing what I went into politics to do, then I'm in."
Q: It's now 40 years since Operation Moses; how is it that transition camps fill up anew every time they empty out? A lot of people wonder whether the immigrants waiting in Ethiopia to make aliyah are in fact Jewish.
"We're talking about anusim (forced converts). For a very long time, there was a very difficult period of droughts, hunger, a regime that ruled with an iron fist, a missionary campaign, and people fell into Christianity. A lot of Jewish families pretended to be Christians to survive, but they returned to Judaism. What did our sages of blessed memory say, 'Even though the people have sinned, they are still called Israel.'
Subscribe to Israel Hayom's daily newsletter and never miss our top stories!
"People always doubted [the Judaism of Ethiopians]. Rabbi Ovadia Yosef was a leader, not a politician. He made the difficult, brave choice, even when people threatened to boycott him because he recognized Ethiopian Jewry. But at the end of the day, nobody can stop us from being here. Twenty or 30 years ago those eligible under the Law of Return came here, but their descendants weren't brought here.
"Do you understand what it's like when you're told your father and mother will be allowed to make aliyah, but your children won't? The Ethiopians' naiveté and lack of understanding were taken advantage of. They were told that in a month or two the children would come, and at the same time, the way things were managed was shameful. Organized lists weren't drawn up, that was left to private actors. The state purposely didn't give an answer. The state chose for there to be chaos."
Q: That's a very serious charge.
"Yes, and I want to take responsibility here, and to rectify things. I'm the solution and that's what I tell other ministers involved. This isn't an easy task, but we're here to right the injustices that we have committed as a state."
Q: If we're talking about rectifying historic injustices, does it not bother you that Nitzan Horowitz buried the report on the kidnapping of Yemenite children?
"From my point of view, that was a very strange thing to do. As someone who made aliyah without her mother and waited for her for years and knows intimately the feeling of a family that has been torn apart because of aliyah, I really don't understand it, and it isn't at all clear to me at all."
Constant rejection
"My entire struggle comes from a place of great love for this country and its people," says Tamano-Shata. "But when I hear about experiments done on babies and that if Ethiopian children are given to mohels [ritual circumcisers] as cannon fodder for them to train on, you can imagine what kind of feeling that awakens in me as a mother, who went through a complex brit milah [circumcision] with her son. There's also the issue of the 23,000 blood donations that were thrown away and the criminal files opened against our youths. And the fact that on one Shabbat, I received countless notifications that Amir Haskel had been arrested, but nobody called me about the fact that the police had beaten up three Ethiopian youths. It really hurts. I'll never stay silent. I'll continue to say difficult things about Israel and racism, but it's not enough just to talk, I don't have the privilege just to shout from the stands. I've seen the data – there is no community that has become involved in Israeli the way the Ethiopian community has."
Q: How do you explain the outburst in 2019 after the death of Solomon Teka? There were statements on the fringes that were post-Zionist – quotes from the American activist Malcolm X and a feeling of disenfranchisement from Israel.
"We've been rejected so often, from so many directions, that it was a process that was inevitable, but I don't forget for a moment that we are an integral part of Israeli society and of the People of Israel. I'm happy to see that in recent years our youth has developed a deep connection to our culture. That is the foundation for a stable connection to the traditions of our fathers. Tupac and other rappers are great, but we don't need to look for role models from another people overseas. Ethiopian Jewry has deep roots and traditions. Today, our young artists are proud of our culture, traditions, and food."
Q: You won't be IDF Chief of Staff, so what's your next move? Prime minister?
"After everything I just said, does that does it sound like what I want?" Tamano-Shata says, laughing.
"Where do you think I can influence society the most and create unity among the people," she asks.
"The President's residence," I suggest.
"President," she says with a smile.
