(Routledge Research in Gender and Society, 75) Esther Hertzog, Erella Shadmi - Prostitution, Pornography and Trafficking in Women - Israel's Blood Money-Routledge (2019)

Prostitution, Pornography
and Trafficking in Women
This book critically analyzes the sex industry in Israel, using feminist concepts and scholarship
to elaborate on the power of prostitution to shape a world in which women are objects
for fulfilling men’s desires. A comprehensive collection of research-based articles that
examine prostitution, trafficking in women and pornography from divergent disciplinary
angles, it reveals the interconnectedness of these three aspects of the sex trade which
objectifies, commercializes and exploits human – and in particular women’s – sexuality.
Showing these practices to be embedded in a capitalist and patriarchal oppressive context
that is accommodated by state institutions, this volume rejects the arguments that it is
possible to choose prostitution, and that feminist pornography is possible.
With case studies including the conspicuous context of migration that attracts sex
traffickers, the liberal discourse introduced by cinema, the media and the arts that serve
to legitimate prostitution and pornography, the chauvinist-macho culture that perceives
and treats women as sex objects, and the issues of male prostitution and men as clients,
Prostitution, Pornography and Trafficking in Women: Israel’s Blood Money constitutes a
study of Israel as a unique context in which the sex trade can prosper, in spite of geographical,
religious and institutional constraints. As such, it will be of interest to scholars of sociology,
anthropology, history, cultural studies and gender and women’s studies.
Esther Hertzog is a social anthropologist and a feminist activist. She is the former head of
the Social Science Department and the founder of the Anthropology program at Beit Berl
Academic College, Israel, and Senior Lecturer in Social Anthropology and Gender Studies
at Zefat and Levinsky Academic Colleges, Israel. Prof. Hertzog is the author of Patrons
of women: Literacy projects and gender development in rural Nepal and Immigrants and
bureaucrats, Ethiopians in an Israeli absorption center, the editor of Life, death and
sacrifice: Women and family in the Holocaust, and the co-editor of Serendipity in anthropological
research: The nomadic turn and Perspectives on Israeli anthropology.
Erella Shadmi is an independent scholar and activist. Formerly, she was the head of the
Women’s Studies Department and Senior Lecturer in Criminology and Law Enforcement at
Beit Berl Academic College, Israel. She also taught women’s studies and the sociology of
policing at Ben Gurion University and Schechter Institute for Jewish Studies. Dr. Shadmi
is also a retired police Lieutenant Colonel. She is the author of Fortified land: Police,
policing and the politics of security and Thinking as a woman: Women and feminism in
Israel, the editor of Mother’s way (on the maternal gift economy and modern matriarchal
studies), and the co-editor of Sappho in the Holy Land: Lesbian experiences and dilemmas
in Israel and In the pursuit of justice: Studies in crime and law enforcement in Israel.
Routledge Research in Gender and Society
69 The Romani Women’s Movement

Struggles and Debates in Central and Eastern Europe
Edited by Angéla Kóczé, Violetta Zentai, Jelena Jovanović, and Enikő Vincze
70 Affective Inequalities in Intimate Relationships

Edited by Tuula Juvonen and Marjo Kolehmainen
71 Masculinities, Sexualities and Love

Aliraza Javaid
72 Body, Migration, Re/constructive Surgeries

Making the Gendered Body in a Globalized World
Edited by Gabriele Griffin and Malin Jordal
73 Gender and Migration

Intersectional Prospects
Anna Amelina and Helma Lutz
74 Gender and Precarious Research Careers

A Comparative Analysis
Edited by Annalisa Murgia and Barbara Poggio
75 Prostitution, Pornography and Trafficking in Women

Israel’s Blood Money
Edited by Esther Hertzog and Erella Shadmi
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series/SE0271
Prostitution, Pornography
and Trafficking in Women
Israel’s Blood Money
Edited by Esther Hertzog and

Erella Shadmi
First published 2019
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© 2019 selection and editorial matter, Esther Hertzog and Erella Shadmi;
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British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Hertzog, Esther, editor. | Shadmi, Erella, editor.
Title: Prostitution, pornography and trafficking in women : Israel’s
blood money / edited by Esther Hertzog & Erella Shadmi.
Description: New York, NY : Routledge, 2019.
Identifiers: LCCN 2018043493 (print) | LCCN 2018046773 (ebook) |
ISBN 9780429431289 (Ebook) | ISBN 9781138364585 (hardback) |
ISBN 9780429431289 (ebk)
Subjects: LCSH: Prostitution—Israel. | Human trafficking—Israel. |
Pornography—Israel. | Sex-oriented businesses—Israel.
Classification: LCC HQ232.2.A5 (ebook) | LCC HQ232.2.A5 H47 2019
(print) | DDC 306.74095694—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018043493
ISBN: 978-1-138-36458-5 (hbk)
ISBN: 978-0-429-43128-9 (ebk)
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Contents
Notes on contributors vii

Acknowledgement xi
Introduction: perspectives on the sex industry in Israel 1

ESTHER HERTZOG AND ERELLA SHADMI
PART I
The state and the sex trade 25
1 Prostitution and the state: Israel illustrated 27

HENRIETTE DAHAN KALEV
2 Women who traffic for sex, and criminal court rulings:

hindsights and insights on the Israeli case (2000–2013) 43
GABRIEL CAVAGLION AND SMADAR NOY
3 [Trade in] women and the Israel police: an irresolvable tension? 61

ERELLA SHADMI
PART II
Women in prostitution 71
4 Prostitution and the white-slave trade in Palestine at the

beginning of the twentieth century 73
GUR ALROEY
5 Cycles of voiceless silence and silencing 89

NIVEEN RIZKALLA
6 Circles of influence: Israeli men as sex tourists in Thailand 109

GUY BRUKER
vi Contents
PART III
Cultural aspects of prostitution 123
7 Prostitution: myth and reality 125

TALI ARTMAN PARTOCK AND RUTH KARA-IVANOV KANIEL
8 Feminist Israeli cinema: fighting prejudices against

female prostitution 147
YAEL MUNK
9 Male prostitution, morality and dissident pleasures: critical

analysis of an Israeli client’s public confession 158
GILAD PADVA
PART IV
The feminist struggle against pornography 179
10 The liberal disguise of pornography in public discourse in Israel 181

ESTHER HERTZOG
11 Controversy and consensus, pornography and hate speech:

the legal challenge to the Playboy Channel 195
SMADAR BEN-NATAN
Index 207
Contributors
Gur Alroey is Professor in the Department of Israel Studies and the Dean of
Humanities at the University of Haifa, Israel. He is a historian of Jewish his-
tory in modern times and the director of the Ruderman Program for American
Studies. Prof. Alroey authored the books Bread to eat and clothes to wear:
Letters from Jewish migrants in the early twentieth century (Wayne State Uni-
versity Press, 2011); An un-promising land: The Jewish migration to Palestine
in the early twentieth century (Stanford University Press, 2014); and Zionism
without Zion: Jewish territorial organization and its conflict with the Zionist
organization (Wayne State University Press, 2016).
Smadar Ben-Natan is a practicing lawyer, completing her doctoral studies at the
Buchmann Faculty of Law at Tel Aviv University, Israel, and an independent
human rights lawyer. She published several academic papers in the fields of
human rights, international human rights and the law of occupation, the Israeli
occupation and Israeli military courts. Ben-Natan represented the coalition of
feminist organizations against pornography in the Israeli Supreme Court, and
was subsequently the chairperson of the Israeli Bar Association Committee on
the Status of Women. She is a co-founder of Gun Free Kitchen Tables, the first
Israeli feminist gun-control initiative.
Guy Bruker is a Ph.D. candidate of Anthropology at the University of Haifa,
Israel. His research focuses on masculinity and processes in Israeli society.
His M.A thesis was with distinction, and was based on his study on Israeli
men as sex tourists in Thailand. Bruker’s current study examines the connec-
tion between the fields of knowledge of social work and anthropology. He is a
researcher in the Center for Behavioral Sciences of the I.D.F (Israeli Defense
Force) and specializes in the relations between civil society and the army.
Gabriel Cavaglion is Associate Professor and Senior Lecturer in Criminology
and Social Work at Ashkelon Academic College, Israel. His studies focus on
socio-historical aspects of social deviance, the media and social control. He
published 40 scientific articles on internet and societal deviance, cultic stud-
ies, trafficking in women for sex, filicide, addiction to pornography, history
of penology, informal social control of the female body and cultural construc-
tion of crime. Prof. Cavaglion authored the book: Hermes, the child and the
viii Contributors
mother: Archetypes in Federico Fellini’s Dream-Work (Nova Science, 2011);
he co-authored Crimes and punishments: Introduction to penology (Ach, 2009,
Hebrew); Cults, violence and sex: The social construction of deviance in post-
modern Israel (Nova Science, 2012); and Networks of deviance: Construction
and denial of social deviance in Israel (Resling, 2016, Hebrew).
Henriette Dahan Kalev is a political scientist and gender studies expert, based
at the Ben Gurion University of the Negev, Israel. Her Ph.D. from the Hebrew
University explored political protests’ impact on democracy in Israel. She spent
time in research and teaching at NYU, UCLA, Oxford and the French National
Center for Scientific Research (CNRS), Paris. Prof. Dahan Kalev is the founder
and first chair of the Gender Studies Program at Ben Gurion University. Her
authored and co-edited publications include Women in the wilderness: Rebel-
lion and defiance on the margins of society (Resling, 2018, Hebrew); Blessing
secret: Bracha Serri’s work (Carmel, 2013, Hebrew); Palestinian activism in
Israel: A Bedouin woman leader in a changing Middle East (Palgrave Mac-
Millan, 2012); and A-Mitiot [A-Mythical] (Yediot Sfarim, 2012, Hebrew). She
published more than 50 refereed essays. Prof. Dahan Kalev is a prominent
human rights activist.
Esther Hertzog is Professor of Social Anthropology and a social and feminist
activist. She is teaching at Zefat and Levinsky Academic Colleges in Israel,
headed the Social Science Department, and founded and headed the Anthropol-
ogy Studies Program at Beit Berl Academic College. Her spheres of research
and teaching are bureaucracy in the contexts of the welfare state, immigra-
tion policies and the educational system; and gender issues in the contexts
of education, politics, welfare and the Holocaust. Prof. Hertzog authored the
books Immigrants and bureaucrats, Ethiopians in an Israeli absorption center
(Berghahn, 1999; Cherikover, 1998, Hebrew) and Patrons of women: Literacy
projects and gender development in rural Nepal (Berghahn, 2011). She edited
and co-edited seven books and numerous academic and op-ed articles.
Ruth Kara-Ivanov Kaniel is Lecturer at Haifa University, Israel, and a research
fellow at the Tel Aviv Institute for Contemporary Psychoanalysis and at the
Shalom Hartman Institute. Her book Holiness and transgression: Mothers
of the Messiah in the Jewish myth was published by Academic Studies Press,
2017 (published in Hebrew by Ha’kibbutz Ha’meuchad, 2014). Her new book
Human ropes: Birth in Kabbalah and psychoanalysis was published recently
in the Series in Criticism culture and interpretation (Carmel, 2018, Hebrew).
Her current research deals with intersections between mysticism, gender and
psychoanalysis.
Yael Munk is Senior Lecturer in film at the Open University, Israel. Her authored
and co-edited publications include Exiled in their norders: Israeli cinema
between two Intifadahs (The Open University, 2012, Hebrew): Looking back:
A revised history of Israeli cinema 1948–1990 (2014); On ruins, trauma and
Contributors ix
cinema (Pardes, 2008, Hebrew); and On consciousness and cinema: Follow-
ing Judd Ne’eman (Pardes, 2005, Hebrew). Dr. Munk has published articles in
Hebrew, English, French and German. Her research is concerned with Israeli
and Palestinian cinemas, Holocaust studies, colonialism criticism and postco-
lonial theory, women documentaries and gender studies in general.
Smadar Noy is a sociologist and jurist, and Senior Lecturer at the Department
of Sociology and Anthropology at Ashkelon College, Israel. Her main sphere
of research used to be the Israeli medical profession (medical liability and egg
donation). Her current main research interest is Israeli academia, in particular,
socialization processes at law schools; academic activism of female scholars
and implications of non-standard academic employment practices on the for-
mation and dissemination of academic knowledge.
Gilad Padva is a scholar and Lecturer in Men’s Studies, Cultural Studies, and
Queer Theory. He is Lecturer at the M.A. Program in Cultual Studies at Haifa
University, Israel, and the Chair of the Division of Visual Culture and Art at
Achva College, Israel. He is the author of Queer nostalgia in cinema and pop
culture (Palgrave Macmillan, 2014) and co-editor of Sensational pleasures in
cinema, literature and visual culture: The phallic eye (Palgrave Macmillan,
2014) and of Intimate relationships in cinema, literature and visual culture
(Palgrave Macmillan, 2017). He publishes extensively in Feminist Media Stud-
ies, Sexualities, Social Semiotics, Cinema Journal, etc. He contributes chapters
to edited volumes and he writes entries for international encyclopedias.
Tali Artman Partock is Affiliated Lecturer at the Faculty of Divinity at the Uni-
versity of Cambridge, UK, and a Teaching Fellow in Jewish Studies at King’s
College, London. She was awarded a Ph.D. in Rabbinic Literature from the
Hebrew University of Jerusalem and held research fellowships at Cambridge,
the Hebrew University, Tel Aviv University, the Open University, and Simon
Dubnow Institute, Leipzig. Her research focuses on gender, Jewish Christian
dialogue in late antiquity and rabbinic transformations of the political herit-
age of the classical world. Her latest publication on the topic of prostitution
in a Jewish context was “The tale type of the repenting prostitute in Rabbinic
literature and early Christianity”, AJS Review (2018, 42: 1).
Niveen Rizkalla is a post-doctoral research fellow at the School of Social Welfare,
University of California, Berkeley, USA, studying trauma and mental health of
refugees, war traumatized populations and the humanitarian aid workers in the
Middle East, Europe, Africa and Asia. Dr. Rizkalla studied the mental health
of Syrian refugees and of the staff that assisted the refugees. She served as the
volunteer coordinator at the Haifa Rape Crisis Center and was the director of
the mobile clinic that treats women in prostitution at the Haifa District Health
Office branch. Currently she consults humanitarian organizations and delivers
lectures and intensive trainings for international professionals on trauma, self-
care and sexual violence.
x Contributors
Erella Shadmi is a radical feminist, peace and anti-racism activist and scholar.
She co-founded Kol Ha’Isha, the Jerusalem feminist center, and the Fifth
Mother, a women’s peace movement. She is the former head of the Women’s
and Gender Studies Program and Senior Lecturer in Criminology and Law
Enforcement at Beit Berl Academic College, Israel. She published extensively
on feminist activism, whiteness, violence against women, lesbianism, peace
and critical analyses of policing. Her authored publications include The history
of the Israel Police, Vol. 1: The formative years, 1948–1957 (The Israel Police
History Department, 1996, 2002, Hebrew); Thinking as a woman: Women and
feminism in a masculine society (Ziv’onim, 2007, Hebrew); Fortified land:
Police, policing and the politics of personal security (Ha’kibbutz Ha’meuchad,
2012, Hebrew); and Mother’s path (Resling, 2015, Hebrew, forthcoming in
Arabic, English and Italian). Dr. Shadmi also co-edited three books
Acknowledgement
The editors are grateful to many people for their valuable contribution to this
book. Emanuel Marx, Michal Zeevi, Assaf Lev and Dan Ben Amos offered sig-
nificant insights to the introduction. Marti Moody and Andrea Blanch contributed
to the improvement of its language and style. Preparing the book for publica-
tion the editors enjoyed the professional and friendly assistance of Routledge
editors and assistant editors: Neil Jordan, Alice Salt, Kate Taylor and Brindha
Thirumoorthy.
Introduction
Perspectives on the sex industry
in Israel
Esther Hertzog and Erella Shadmi
Entangled in the sex trade: trafficking in women, prostitution

and pornography
The book explores the sex industry in Israel, using feminist concepts and scholar-
ship. The articles in this book delve into issues currently at the heart of feminist
activity and research in Israel and beyond, both past and present, concerning pros-
titution, trafficking in women and pornography. These three manifestations of the
sex trade are conceptualized as aspects of the same phenomenon. This understand-
ing denotes the commercialization of female sexuality for the sake of producing
tremendous financial profits and for the purpose of fostering social, economic
and political subordination of women. The approach presented here suggests that
marking boundaries of separation among these facets of the sex trade is mislead-
ing and false. Although the three vary in extent and impact, all derive from the
concept and institution of trading in sex. While trafficking in women is consen-
sually perceived as criminal (Herzog 2008), “common” prostitution, which also
entails severe humiliation, exploitation of and violence toward women, enjoys
relatively more social and legal tolerance. Pornography lies at the far end of the
criminal-violent-exploitative moral scale, consisting of prostitution multiplied ad-
infinitum by technology. However, although pornography is sneaking pervasively
into all spheres of life1 and is extremely harmful, it is – in social, cultural, political
and legal terms – more tolerated than other manifestations of the sex trade.
While some attempt to distinguish among these topics as three separate phe-
nomena (with regard to coercion and to choices given or prevented by people
involved in the sex trade), we suggest that it is vital to expose the inseparable
nature of these three spheres of the sex trade. Acknowledging the connections
between them may enrich the understanding of three topics, which are often
misconceived as separate issues, and strengthen the feminist struggle in gen-
eral. We follow this understanding by referring to the Israeli context. Assuming
leading feminists’ approach, we perceive prostitution, trafficking in women
and pornography – in any form or context – to be a crime against the women
involved, as well as evidence of a worldwide misogynistic movement.
The scope and impact of the sex industry

The sex industry is global, as well as local. It is an industry steeped in crime and
misogyny, and it penetrates every sphere of our lives. It erupts into all our activities,
2 Esther Hertzog and Erella Shadmi
whether we agree or disagree with being exposed to it. It is assimilated into our
mobile phones, computers, advertising and billboards, and of course in written
and electronic media. Through photographed prostitution (i.e., pornography), the
sex industry is not confined to brothels, street prostitution or pornographic films.
Rather, it is present in every place and every sphere of our existence; it affects our
gender identity and our collective self-image as women; it serves the sex traders
who make huge profits; it is a means of grooming girls to sell their bodies for
the sake of men’s pleasure; it is a tool of contempt, oppression, humiliation and
exploitation of young and adult women in school, at home, at work, in politics and
anywhere women are present; it is a powerful means of conveying to boys sexual
attitudes toward girls and women.
Prostitution, trafficking in women, and pornography stem from the commer-
cialization of women’s sexuality (and of sexuality in general), and objectify-
ing both the female and male bodies for the sake of realizing males’ sexual
desires. The concept of “prostitution”, created by human society as a term that
condemns, demeans, marginalizes and indicates deviation, is the backbone of a
large range of ancient and new social phenomena. It enfolds both the loathing by
“decent” society of “deviant” sexual behaviors in women, on one hand, and the
ultimate symbol of oppression of women in society on the other. From Rahab the
biblical prostitute to the street walker of our own times, the prostitute embodies
the image of the most scorned woman in patriarchal2 society. We suggest that the
liberation of women means, first and foremost, liberating prostitutes.
The boundaries of prostitution are far broader than just the population of
women who sell their bodies for money. Prostitution provides the source from
which patriarchy draws its force to perpetuate women’s exploitation and subjuga-
tion. As electronic and virtual media technologies become increasingly significant
and widespread, the image of the prostitute has pervaded women’s lives. It affects
their identity in every profession, activity and social framework, through beauty
pageants, advertising, films, pop music, television shows, cosmetic surgery and
treatments, and fashion, all the way to Barbie dolls for very young girls and porno-
graphic cyber films for young boys.3 Relationships, apparel, hair, speech, move-
ment and more are all shaped through the impact of the “sexy” female image,
the image that alludes to prostitution and to body parts which invite penetration.
Women’s behavior in public and private spheres, with their spouses or at work
is too often perceived within the framework of prostitution, and consequently
judged as either acceptable or deviant, worthy or improper. The disgust displayed
by “decent” society towards the prostitute, while simultaneously worshipping
figures who have internalized and applied the symbol of sexual stimulation (the
fashion model, the pop singer) serves as a socio-cultural dictate. These dictates
shape their identity of “decent” women as worthy, successful and accepted, in
direct opposition to prostitutes. Women in prostitution themselves remain in the
shadows, marginalized and disrespected, abused and injured.
An example for the pervasive impact of pornography in an Israeli context was
the “country’s ass” competition,4 which took place in Tel Aviv in September 2010.
In this event young girls’ buttocks were exposed and judged. Allegedly this was
Introduction 3
a harmless event, which the girls joined freely, entailing no commercial purpose.
In practice, it was an explicit presentation of young (“decent”) girls as seducing
men, enabling them to enjoy their sexy positioning. Photographs on the inter-
net clearly demonstrated the gendered confrontation: young women’s buttocks,
detached from their whole body, were judged by men who were cultural icons
(among the judges, in one event, were a television celebrity, a journalist and a
plastic surgeon). The message, transmitted through pictures and reports, was that
the girls participated in the competition willingly, seeking to gain public attention,
and that the men were entitled to enjoy the deal. Indeed, behind the overt scene is
the white-washing of sexual exploitation of young women’s sexuality, the prof-
its of the advertisers from legitimizing pornographic scenes and the enthusiastic
cooperation of the media.
Technological communication serves to create a false impression that makes
the street walker of the past into an “actress” whose sexual relations derive from
desire and pleasure against a backdrop of luxury rather than a filthy street and
dire hunger. Technology infinitely multiplies a single event in which the woman
sells her body for the sake of a male’s pleasure. An interview with a former Israeli
porn actress serves to illustrate these points (Ben-David 2016). Liat, a 33-year-old
woman, participated in Israeli porn films for six years, starting at the age of 20.
During that time, she used drugs and suffered from physical and psychological
deterioration. She tells the journalist:
At the end of every porn filming day I crushed broken into the bath. I was
drugged just wanting not to feel anything . . . It is worse than prostitution,
because this is for life. . . . In prostitution it is one blast and we’ve finished,
but the film and the scar remain for life in front of your eyes. People identify
me in the street and on Facebook. Copies are all over the internet, in disks, in
movie channels for adults.
Hence, pornography is prostitution in an imaginary scope. Its influence is broader

and more destructive than that of the ancient form of prostitution.
Prostitution and choice

In the antagonistic discussion on prostitution, a demand is often expressed for
institutionalizing and legitimizing prostitution. It is argued that prostitution is dif-
ferent from “trafficking in women”, in that the first relies on a woman’s choice
whereas the latter involves coercion and exploitation (Schwarzenbach 2006). This
liberal feminist approach claims that the numbers of women who are coerced into
prostitution and who are victims of violence are relatively limited, compared to
the mass of women who choose to be “sex workers”. Moreover, scholars like
Wagenaar, Altink and Amesberger (2013) recommend using the concept of “sex-
ual and economic exploitation as a key category in prostitution policy” instead
of trafficking (85). They suggest that perceiving “sex workers” as victims (of
trafficking) prevents them, especially female immigrants, from making a living
from prostitution. Following their study of prostitution policy in Austria and the
Netherlands, these scholars argue that the concept of exploitation “respects the
migratory nature of prostitution, it highlights the similarity of exploitation in pros-
titution with that in other occupations that attract labor migrants” (90).
The pro-sex feminist approach goes as far as perceiving the prostitute as an
agent of resistance to society’s patriarchal structure (Nagle 1997). Prostitution
is sometimes presented as an opportunity for improving the economic situation
of women from disadvantaged groups, such as immigrants (Amesberger 2014;
Agustin 2005, 2007). Researchers like cultural anthropologist Gayle Rubin (1984)
view the feminist anti-prostitution approach as denying the possibility of choice
among women in prostitution, and as ideological ethnocentricity. Moreover, some
feminists, like Carole Vance (1984), Annie Sprinkle (1998) and Amalia Ziv in
Israel (2013), advocate for “feminist pornography” and “pro-sex feminism”.
Following scholars and activists like Andrea Dworkin (1974, 1981), Catharine
MacKinnon (1991), Donna Hughes (2000), Melissa Farley (2004) and the promi-
nent anti-porn German activist Alice Schwarzer (2013), we perceive prostitution,
trafficking in women and pornography, in any form or context, to be a crime against
the women involved, as well as a worldwide misogynistic movement. This under-
standing derives support from data and research findings about the “real meaning
of prostitution” and its fundamental similarity to pornography (Levi 2016a)5 and
from research on the implications of prostitution in Israel, carried out by the Infor-
mation and Research Department of the Knesset (Lotan 2006). Feminist activists’
publications like Anat Gur’s (2004) and those of Toda’a Institute6 also provide reli-
able testimonies relating to the impact of the sex trade on women in prostitution.
In an article by Dana Levi (2016b), a prostitution survivor, she provides a “Tes-
timony from the inside: all the truth that you did not want to know about prostitu-
tion”. In her article, Levi refutes eight myths about prostitution:
1 Prostitution is only sex of two consenting adults.

2 It is true that street prostitution is hard, but elite prostitution is easy money.
3 Prostitution is not different than any other physically hard profession.
4 There are women who choose to work in prostitution.
5 Institutionalization will put an end to the suffering of women in prostitution.
6 The pimps are the problem. An independent prostitute chooses how and how
much she wants to work.
7 There are prostitutes who are satisfied with their work.
8 Prostitution is essential because it prevents rape.
This book, therefore, deals with the power of prostitution to shape a world
in which women are objects satisfying male desires (and a growing number of
women who enjoy women’s sexual objectification as well).
Prostitution and patriarchy

Prostitution, so we argue, is the ultimate realization and actualization of patriar-
chy’s core. It diminishes the woman to her sexual organs and objectifies her in
Introduction 5
the most extreme way possible. Prostitution is perceived as a powerful means
for structuring men’s control in society. From this perspective, the fact that men
are also involved in prostitution, exploited and oppressed is rather the exception
that reinforces the gender order, blurring the extent of women’s exploitation in
the context of prostitution and pornography; it also testifies to the power of patri-
archal capitalism in expanding the areas of exploitation into broader spheres to
include men, girls and boys.
Though we are well aware that ethnicity, sexuality, capitalism, immigration,
globalization and other factors fuel the sex industry, the book focuses on patriar-
chy – a concept that seems outdated to many. Current feminist theorists suggest
that “patriarchy” as the culture/regime of male domination (in particular, domina-
tion by fathers) that serves men’s interests and structures society and ideology
from a male perspective, should be re-examined. Thus, for instance, Deniz Kandi-
yoti (2013) suggests that a new phenomenon, “masculinist restoration”, emerges
as patriarchy is threatened by the strengthening of feminism, and “requires higher
levels of coercion and the deployment of more varied ideological state appara-
tuses to ensure its reproduction”.
Males’ domination as control over political leadership, moral authority and
property are associated also with the terms “androcracy” and “phallocracy”.
“Androcracy” (from the Greek root words andros, “man” and krateo, “rule”) is
contrasted by Riane Eisler ([1987]2002) with “gylany”, a regime based on gender
equality. “Phallocracy” (from Greek: phallus) connotes, further, the implications
of sexism and violence behind males’ domination in society. This understand-
ing entails the embedded features of males’ culture as identified with control of
weapons and females’ sexuality. Thus, Eva Keuls (1985) defines “phallocracy” as
literally meaning “power of the phallus”, it is a cultural system symbolized

by the image of the male reproductive organ in permanent erection, the phal-
lus . . . the concept denotes a successful claim by a male elite to general
power, buttressed by a display of the phallus . . . a kind of weapon: a spear of
war club, and a scepter of sovereignty. . . . In sexual terms, phallocracy takes
such forms as rape . . . and access to the bodies of prostitutes who are liter-
ally enslaved or allowed no other means of support. In the political sphere, it
spells imperialism and patriarchal behavior in civic affairs.
(1–2)
Although associating “patriarchy” and “imperialism” with “phallocracy” is being

connected in this analysis with ancient Greek, yet, a similar connotation seems to
be relevant to society at present. This understanding emerges from not only femi-
nist studies such as Eisler’s or Marija Gimbutas’ (1982), but from anthropological
studies like Douglas Fry’s (2013), all of which perceive modern times as pre-
dominantly ruled by male culture (“Androcratia”, Eisler [1987]2002, 148–149),
based on values of competition, hierarchical domination, fighting, oppression and
cruelty.
The relevance for current society of the perceived bond between masculinist/
male domination, sexism and fatal violence is expressed in the concept of “gun
phallocracy” as defined by Eng-Beng Lim (2015). He argues that gun phallocracy
is reflected in “the internalization of colonial machismo in U.S – American psy-
chic, institutional, regulatory and relational structures”. It continues the atrocities
of colonial violence. Thus, it appears that U.S. President Donald Trump’s back-
ground, campaign and victory offer a crucial example of the connection between
sex, weapons and males’ violent domination in current times – or, in Lim’s words,
“the toxicity of white, supremacist masculinity [which] has become an extremely
dangerous contagion”.
As the term “patriarchy” is widely used and recognized, we choose to employ it,
bearing in mind the sexual and violent aspects that this concept reflects. In choos-
ing this approach, we follow Howard Becker’s (1967) claim that researchers inevi-
tably take sides and that the relevant question is “whose side we are on?” (ibid.,
239). Hence, our approach, so we believe, presents the viewpoint of the victims,
the oppressed and the unprivileged: prostitutes and women in general, whose inti-
mate body organs have become commercialized objects for male sexual satisfac-
tion. Our main interest lies in the mechanisms of oppression and the ways in which
the state, the economic, social and cultural institutions reinforce this oppression.
Pornography: normalizing sexual commodification of and

violence toward women
The general public tends to relate to pornography with forgiving or dismissive
amusement. Most men have come across pornographic products and presentations
during their lifetimes: often as adolescents or during military service. Pornogra-
phy, it appears, is not just a personal encounter between one man and a product,
through which he wishes to achieve private climax; it is a kind of male com-
radeship. Most men are not aware of the damage pornography causes (Ami and
Nardi 2001; Kimmel 1990; Stoltenberg 1990; Wolf 2012), nor do they agree that
it has any negative effect on them personally. In contrast, many women despise
pornography,7 even if they are simultaneously forgiving towards it. Having been
socialized to accept sexual aggression as a sexual/romantic event (Corne, Briere
and Esses 1992), most women are not aware of the harmful impact of pornogra-
phy on them.
We perceive pornographic products as expressing a cultural ideology that legit-
imizes belligerence and violence in men’s sexual approach towards women, men
and youth.8 The feminist struggle, with which we identify, seeks to shatter current
social legitimization of prostitution/pornography and to eliminate it altogether. In
fact, since the outset of this industry, women have opposed it (Meyerowitz 1996),
declaring that pornography does not belong in the pluralistic sphere of freedom of
expression which can, and must, contain diverse, even blatant, modes of expres-
sion. Prostitution/pornography is, simply put, born of a destructive and intolerable
trade in humans. It demeans human dignity (Kamir 2006).
The behavior of men and women participating in the sex industry is connected
to males’ power and domination on the one hand and to females’ dependency
and inferiority on the other. It follows that choosing prostitution as a profession,
Introduction 7
or perceiving prostitution in terms of a woman’s or man’s choice over her or his
body, is more in the realm of wishful thinking than a reality. From this feminist
perspective, pornography is illegitimate, just as trafficking in humans and prosti-
tuting are, and should not be legalized.
Pornography, perceived as a legitimate social/cultural sphere, serves to legiti-
mize prostitution and to normalize violence towards women. It is a breach of
moral boundaries. Liberals and artists tend to bestow on pornography the merit of
breaking conservatism’s boundaries to empower the rediscovered joy and desire
for sex in modern people whose sexuality was oppressed in the past by officials
of religion or superstition.
However, the articles in this volume imply that pornography holds a detri-
mental role in breaking the boundaries of sexual urge in harmful and misogynic
directions. Just as pornography eroticized sexual violence towards women and
normalized its “soft” manifestations, it currently normalizes pedophilia and phys-
ical violence in sexual relations, such as the popularization of sado-masochistic
scenarios (Shadmi 2007). This argument was raised already by Judith Reisman
(1991), who pointed to the frequent use by Playboy magazine of “childish” sexual
situations. One commonplace scenario involves photographing young women
dressed up as little girls and positioned in sexual or violent situations, while
shown to be enjoying the scenario, and not at all harmed by it. This is one exam-
ple of cultural structuring that promotes a social environment such as that found
in New York City’s streets. In 2002, The Village Voice (Loinaz 2002) reported that
the average age of prostitutes in New York City had dropped to 11, and there was
a huge demand for children to fulfill sexual demands. A report presented during
the discussions in the Knesset concerning the proposed law to introduce filtering
devices against pornographic content on the internet revealed that about 60% of
the children in Israel aged 9–15 are surfing in pornographic sites.9
The feminist struggle against pornography criticizes the state’s role in endan-
gering women’s safety in the name of freedoms of choice, of profession and of
expression, instead of protecting their safety through legislation (Shadmi 2003).
Feminists seek to expropriate their sexual representation from the patriarchal cap-
italist world which has turned their bodies into merchandise. The female body is
appropriated in order to sell cars and vacuum cleaners, clothes, pesticides, real
estate, credit cards – almost anything sellable. Declining that lofty and protected
pedestal of “good women” which the patriarchal world bestowed on them, fem-
inists choose to identify with their poorer sisters, even though they cooperate,
inadvertently, with the sexual commodification of women’s bodies.
The sex industry in the Israeli context

The sex trade in Israel is part of the global sex trade, and bears similarities to
it. The most conspicuous similarity is related to the expansion of prostitution
(whether it takes place as “trafficking in women” or not) that accompanies waves
of immigration. Being a country comprised of immigrants, Israel represents this
familiar phenomenon by far (see Bernstein 2008; Alroey 2013; and Alroey’s
article, Chapter 4 in this volume). The white-slave trade in women conducted
in early twentieth-century Palestine was inseparable from the realities of Jewish
life in Eastern Europe and the mass migration of peoples that began in the second
half of the nineteenth century. Moreover, in the 1990s, Israel became a crossroad
of trafficking in women from Eastern Europe as part of the massive immigra-
tion from the former Soviet Union (Chaikin and Safran 2011; Hammerman 2004;
Vandenberg and Applebaum 1997). The migrant male workers who arrived in
the country in growing numbers during the last two decades provide a significant
push to the expansion of local prostitution at present.
The thriving neo-liberal economy that complies with the commodification of
human sexuality (based on assumed individual choice) and perceives it as a legiti-
mate economic transaction represents another similarity between the Israeli and
the global sex industries. The enormous profits that go to the barons of the sex
industry can be only roughly estimated, because reliable information is almost
unavailable (Ackman 2001; Covenant Eyes 2013; Mako 2016). Karen Gabriel
(2017) suggests that the estimates for the porn industry are characterized by
“nebulousness, even confusion” (109), explained by the fact that this industry
is “highly secretive”, generating “[the] uncertainty around both numbers (how
much money and how many people are involved) and practices (the nature of
financial, labor and other kinds of transactions) in the industry” (ibid., 109–110).
It is assumed that between 17 and 20 billion dollars of profit each year are made
from pornography in the US.10 In Israel, according to a survey carried out by the
Ministries of Welfare and Public Security, the sex traders’ estimated profits from
prostitution are more than 300 million dollars per year.11 According to published
reports about the profits from pornography in Israel, they were about 13 million
dollars in 2002 (Nevo and Lichtik 2002) and about 35 million dollars in 2014
(Santo and Karmeli 2016).
The people who are prevalently involved in the sex industry worldwide are
generally from poorer, marginalized, disadvantaged groups in society. These are,
in Israel12 as in other places: migrants, poor single parents (mainly mothers), drug-
addicted males and females, youth at risk and people who were sexually abused
during childhood (Lee 2016). Indeed, the extreme impact of technological com-
munication involves the expansion of pornographized prostitution through cyber-
space in Israel as is happening all over the world.
However, some specific features characterize the sex trade in the Israeli context.
State and religion go hand in hand in Israel, and there is no separation between
the two. The Israeli governments are based on an ongoing alliance between the
state and religion – and on Orthodox Jewish dominance in particular. Thus, reli-
gious courts, laws and regulations affect every aspect of life in Israel. Against
this background, the unique power of religious parties in the Israeli Knesset and
government enabled feminist groups to pass a law against pornography on TV
(in 2002). The local struggle against pornography on television, which is widely
discussed in the book (see Hertzog’s and Ben-Natan’s articles, Chapters 9 and 10,
respectively), provides important evidence for the paradoxical co-operations and
confrontations embedded in the feminist struggle against pornography: feminists
Introduction 9
cooperating with conservative and Orthodox parties, feminists confronting liberal
and leftist parties, and more (Shiran 2003).
Israel is furthermore unique in the high cultural value its citizens ascribe to the
family, the relatively high rate of births (Fogiel-Bijaoui 2002; Lavee and Katz
2003; Okun 2016), and the large Orthodox-religious populations, both Jewish
and Muslim, whose religious teachings prohibit prostitution. Both Jewish and
Muslim heritage provide some of the conceptual foundations for attitudes toward
prostitution.
Thus, for instance, according to Jewish law, or Halacha, having intercourse with
a woman without marriage implies violating the Torah.13 Nevertheless, Orthodox
men, married and unmarried, Jewish and Arab, do visit prostitutes. The limited
impact of the religious prohibition is demonstrated, for example, by the fact that
many Orthodox Jews (estimated number: 250,000 men) who visit Uman, Ukraine,
for religious reasons, use this opportunity to “visit” local brothels.14
The pervasive infiltration of pornography into Israeli society started in the
beginning of the new millennium and rapidly developed into a flourishing indus-
try, affecting every sphere of life. Similar to the gradual legitimization processes
that took place in Europe, and especially in the US, the idea of “freedom of
speech” played a major role in Israel as well (Ziv Goldman 1995; Hertzog’s and
Ben-Natan’s articles, Chapters 10 and 11, respectively, in this volume). However,
as suggested earlier, the unique power of the religious parties in the Israeli Knes-
set and government enabled feminist groups to pass the law against pornography
on TV and cable channels.
Thus, the Israeli experience demonstrates that neither a focus on families nor
religious prohibitions can efficiently prevent the sex industry from prospering.
Rather, as the articles included in this book reveal, the mixture of Israel’s eco-
nomic, social and cultural features, state policy and geographic characteristics
seem to promote the existence, perpetuation and expansion of the sex trade.
These are some of the features of the Israeli context which play a role in the
existence and expansion of the local sex industry, as they emerge from the articles
included in this book:
• Israel’s geographical borders are relatively long and hard to block and,
therefore, to prevent smuggling and trafficking in human beings. Moreover,
being a country essentially comprised of immigrants, Israel has attracted sex
traffickers of women from the outset of its establishment (Alroey’s article,
Chapter 4);
• A neo-liberal economy entails growing poverty, particularly of single par-
ents’ families headed by women, and boosts the options of turning to prostitu-
tion (Rizkalla’s article, Chapter 5);
• A militarized regime and militaristic culture supports gender power differ-
ences and macho culture (Bruker’s article, Chapter 6). The mixture between
civilian and the macho-army cultures pervades all areas of Israeli society
(Kimmerling 2001). It nurtures the dichotomy between femininity and
masculinity, and perpetuates the myth of male “superiority” and female
dependency. Men controlling weapons and exploiting women’s sexuality has
been part of the Israeli army’s characteristics from its beginning. The recent
wave of complaints against high ranked military and police officers’ sexual
exploitation of female soldiers provides an example for this phenomenon (see
Chazan 2016);
• The ongoing alliance between the state and religion, which establishes a
Jewish Orthodox dominance, together with a modern-liberal society and the
presence of vibrant feminist movement, involve puzzling collaborations and
conflicts (Hertzog’s article, Chapter 10);
• It is a country in which the global gay center of Tel Aviv plays a conspicuous
role (Padva’s article, Chapter 9);
• Ethnic and nationalistic tensions constantly threaten social stability in Israel,
reinforcing stereotypical perceptions. Racist attitudes towards Israeli Pales-
tinians and non-Ashkenazi population (Mizrahim) are unveiled through cin-
ematic exploration of prostitution in films that deal with this phenomenon in
different periods (Munk’s article, Chapter 8).
These features unveil some of the contradictions between values and lifestyles
inherent in Israeli society, such as faith and tradition vs. liberalism, freedom and
individualism; socio-economic, gender, sexuality and ethnic equality vs. neglect
of underprivileged, exploited groups; and modern, advanced culture vs. conserva-
tive, racist views and policies. Such contradictions are reflected in research, in
local culture and in daily Israeli life. Thus, elaborating on features of the local sex
industry that are both similar and dissimilar to those of the global context make
the “Israeli case” a challenging one for research in both the local sex industry and
in its connection to the global industry. Still, the studies are compelling for both
Israeli and other audiences.
This anthology15 is the first comprehensive discussion of the state and social
mechanisms which enable prostitution to be a tolerated phenomenon in Israel. It
offers a critical analysis of the role of state institutions in facilitating the sex trade
in Israel. Politically structured, these mechanisms serve the state by enabling it to
supervise women’s sexuality and to make the connections between sex and capital
(see Dahan Kalev’s and Shadmi’s articles, Chapters 1 and 3, respectively). The
mechanisms have turned Israel into one of the main target countries of the trade in
women from former Soviet bloc countries. The role of the Supreme Court and the
Knesset in determining the status of pornography in Israel is illuminated through
a legal analysis and a description of the anti-pornography coalition’s success in
passing a law against pornography on TV channels (see Ben-Natan’s and Hert-
zog’s articles, Chapters 10 and 11, respectively). Thus, the book offers a critique
of the state and its institutions (the police, the Parliament, the Supreme Court, the
media) and of the educational, religious, welfare and political systems. This col-
lection also offers an analysis of the role of Jewish heritage in providing some of
the conceptual foundations of the Israeli attitude toward prostitution (see Artman
Partock’s and Kara-Ivanov Kaniel’s article, Chapter 7). It also elaborates on the
role of prostitution in the heated, ongoing ethnic clash between the Ashkenazi
Introduction 11
hegemony and other groups since the establishment of the state, as reflected in
Israeli cinema (see Munk’s article, Chapter 8).
The background of the sex trade in Israel and the feminist

struggle against it
Israel was a magnet for sex traffickers of women from its establishment (Alroey
2003; Bernstein 2008). By the end of the 1990s, Israel had become part of the
immigrants’ labor market in the West (Kemp and Raijman 2008) and trading in
women for the purpose of prostitution expanded significantly (Amir and Amir
2004; Levenkron and Dahan 2003; Vandenberg and Applebaum 1997). The waves
of mass immigration from the former USSR in the 1990s, bringing about one
million people to Israel within a brief period, expanded trade in women from for-
mer USSR countries. The long border in the south of Israel facilitated the smug-
gling of migrant women from Eastern Europe by Bedouins in the Sinai Peninsula,
whose social realities and practices fitted easily with the smuggling trade (Marx
2013). For a decade, Israel took no action against the phenomenon. In 1998, the
UN Human Rights Commission reported that Israel was not upholding the charter
it had signed against trafficking in humans (Levenkron and Dahan 2003). It was
only at the start of the new millennium, however, with the publication of the USA
Department of State (2001) report on trafficking in women, and the US threat
to cease economic support of countries taking no action against trafficking in
women, that the Israeli authorities began cooperating with local and international
feminist and human rights organizations to combat this problem. Moreover, the
construction of walls on the Egyptian border in the south of Sinai and the stern
means introduced against terror in this region made it almost impossible to con-
tinue the smuggling of trafficked women into Israel.
Excluding legal hearings which, by their nature, are open to a very limited pub-
lic, prostitution has received negligible public attention. A conspicuous exception
was the appointment of the District Court judge, Hadassah Ben-Itto, in 1977 to
head the government commission examining the issue of prostitution. Ben-Itto
submitted a comprehensive report to the Minister of Justice concerning the scope
of prostitution in Israel. Her recommendations, however, were only partially
implemented. The commission, like many other organizations and the general
public, accepted prostitution as a given, as attested by Professor Menahem Amir,
a commission member, when speaking to the Knesset Committee on the Status of
Women on June, 21, 2006.
The powerful criminal, economic and political actors behind the sex industry
played, quite probably, a major role in silencing the potential public discourse
concerning this subject. Very few feminist activists and scholars in the context of
prostitution dared to deal publicly with this issue. The feminist magazine Noga
was an exception, dealing with prostitution in several issues. In 1985, it devoted
an entire issue to the subject of pornography. At the end of the 1980s, the Israel
Women’s Network and the feminist movement held discussions on pornography
with Andrea Dworkin, who was invited to visit Israel as a keynote speaker. In the
early 1990s a prostitute known as “Linda”, assisted by feminist activist Esther
Eilam, established the “We are Equal” movement. Linda offered assistance to
women in prostitution, published a newspaper, and organized lectures on prosti-
tution. Later, several women in prostitution came to the fore and demanded that
prostitution be recognized as a legal profession. Government offices did not gen-
erate a clear policy on prostitution. Israeli police and the State Attorney tended
to ignore the phenomenon except in cases of prostitution of minors, responding
occasionally to calls from residents concerned by brothels and street prostitutes in
their neighborhoods, or treating complaints lodged by women in prostitution who
experienced blatant physical violence.16
In the 1990s, women’s organizations began raising their concerns regarding
trafficking in women. Some examples are the Israel Women’s Network publica-
tion (Vandenberg’s and Applebaum’s Report 1997) and the Women’s Parliament
public discussions17 in May 2000, March 2001 and November 2004. Yet very little
academic research (e.g., Ziv Goldman 1995) or feminist activity focused on this
issue. It was only towards the end of the 1990s, and more so in the early 2000s,
that interest increased in the problem of prostitution and its derivatives, trafficking
in women and pornography.
In the early 2000s, a bitter struggle ensued to enact legislation prohibiting por-
nography on cable television, following the Women’s Parliament discussions. The
bill was passed by the Knesset with the support of the religious, ultra-Orthodox
and Arab political parties. Despite the ridicule leveled by the media, politicians,
and several feminist activists at those leading the struggle, the fight succeeded
in arousing public debate on pornography. Thus, it appears that the power of
the Orthodox population in the country, through its relatively unique position
in the Parliament and in the government, played a significant role in promoting
the bill against pornography on television. The left and the Supreme Court took
the opposing side, adopting the liberal discourse about freedom of expression as
taking precedence over women’s human rights (see Hertzog’s and Ben-Natan’s
articles, Chapters 10 and 11, respectively).
This chain of events connected to the struggle against pornography in Israel
demonstrates the crucial connection between the liberal discourse prevailing in
the secular parties, the Supreme Court, the media and the capitalist sectors, as
reflected in the position of the cable channels and their investing groups.
Growing activities by women’s organizations, along with greater pressure by
the American government concerning the issue of trafficking in women (men-
tioned earlier), led to a Knesset committee on trafficking in women. A Parliamen-
tarian Investigative Commission on this topic was founded on June 13, 200018
and headed by MP Zehava Gal’on. On December 31, 2004, the commission com-
pleted its investigation. From January 2005 on, the commission continued operat-
ing as a sub-committee of the Knesset Comptroller’s Committee, and later as a
sub-committee of the Women’s Status Committee.
Inspired by Swedish legislation, also adopted by Iceland, Norway and France,
MP Zehava Gal’on and later MP Orit Zuaretz strived to pass a bill criminalizing
clients of prostitution. In February 2012, the bill passed its preliminary reading.
Introduction 13
Knesset member Aliza Lavie, in her role as chair of the Committee on Women’s
Status, attempted to push the law forward. In 2014 an agreement was reached
within the Ministerial Legislation Committee to pass the law. At present (2018),
a few Knesset members, supported by Ayelet Shaked, Minister of Justice, are
attempting again to enact this legislation. Nevertheless, the law has yet to be
passed.
The expanding public discourse on the sex trade helped lead to several academic
publications on prostitution and pornography (Shiran 2003; Almog 2008; Avni
2009; Bernstein 2008; Gur 2008; Chaikin and Safran 2011; Hertzog and Shadmi
2013; Shamir 2016), to articles in newspapers (Vered Lee’s blog in Ha’aretz is
one example) and to Facebook pages (“Awake”19 and “When he pays”20 are con-
spicuous examples).
This increased interest in prostitution and pornography is not the outcome of
public interest in combating prostitution. Rather, it is connected to global pro-
cesses: pressures like those issued by the Americans; the globalization of crime;
the increasing worldwide trade in workers, women and body organs; the enormous
profits channeled to the media from advertising brothels and escort centers; the
liberalization of sexuality and sexual relations, particularly sex tourism; the early
sexualization of boys and girls; the discourse on pleasure which lauds all types
of human pleasures; the advanced legislation in countries like Sweden which
criminalizes prostitution clients, taking advantage of underprivileged women and
men through sexual exploitation; and finally, the expansion of feminist activism21
and scholarship (mentioned previously). The impact of these grass-roots and aca-
demic activities on public discourse is gradually increasing, seeking both to give
voice to women in prostitution themselves and to confront sex buyers.22 It strives
to undermine the control of patriarchy and its institutions over women and society
at large, to enhance further understanding of prostitution and to liberate women
in prostitution, as well as women in general both from the patriarchal image of
women in prostitution and from prostitution per se.
The growing activism and research on prostitution and trafficking in women,
as well as the impact of the criticism expressed by the US government, led to
increased efforts by the Israeli government to combat the trade in women. At
present, the Ministry of Welfare and grass-roots feminist organizations provide
various services to women in prostitution: hotlines, emergency apartments for
temporary accommodation, hostels for longer-term treatment and rehabilitation,
mobile medical clinics, programs aimed at locating women and girls in prosti-
tution, and day centers offering psychological and employment rehabilitation.23
However, it should be emphasized that only a small number of women and girls
in prostitution are being assisted by those services. These women are concentrated
in Tel Aviv, Haifa and Eilat, and have nothing to do with pornography. Also, the
state services for women in prostitution are constantly under threats of budget
cuts or closure.
The efforts of the Israeli police to combat trade in women were acknowledged by
the US State Department, which in 2012 declared that the Israeli government fully
complies with the Trafficking Victims Protection Act’s (the TVPA’s) minimum
standards for the elimination of trafficking.24 However, feminist activists claim
that the trafficking in migrant women decreased as a result of employing strict
anti-terror measures that make Israeli borders less penetrable. This claim is sup-
ported by the State Department report from 2015, which noted that the “construc-
tion of a fence along the Israel-Egypt border and an aggressive Egyptian military
campaign” (194) affected significantly the flow of migrants into the south of Israel.
Moreover, the trade in Israeli women is growing: at least 12,000 women, men
and girls are still trapped in the circles of prostitution.25 Many Israeli-Palestinian
and Israeli-Druze women in prostitution are not included in the formal statistics.26
Also, as in Israel, Germany and Holland are categorized in the US State Depart-
ment’s report as fully complying with the minimum standards for the elimination
of trafficking in humans (“tier I”), although they have institutionalized prostitu-
tion, and trafficking in women from Eastern Europe is widely prevalent in those
countries. The current situation in Israel is described in the 2015 and 2016 State
Department reports as follows: “Women from Eastern Europe, Uzbekistan, China,
and Ghana, as well as Eritrean men and women, are subjected to sex trafficking in
Israel; some women arrive on tourist visas to work willingly in prostitution, but
are subsequently exploited by sex traffickers” (USA Department of State 2015,
193; 2016, 212).
If Israeli society could be deemed blind to prostitution for years, it had been
even more blind with regard to pornography. Until the early 2000s, public and
academic discourse on the subject was highly limited. Even now, women’s organ-
izations cannot arrive at a common approach. Many men are addicted to pornog-
raphy, and women join them as consumers of pornography just as they join in
Thailand’s sex tourism (see Bruker’s article, Chapter 6). The public sphere has
become pornographized. The battle over legislation to limit pornography encoun-
ters solid walls of hostility and vilification. This was blatantly exposed recently
on social networks by an outcry against the proposed bill to force internet service
providers to filter out inappropriate content unless an individual client requests
otherwise.27
Nonetheless, the importance of the feminist struggle against pornography in
Israel cannot be underestimated, having simultaneously brought the issue of por-
nography onto the public agenda while challenging the existing discourse, and
positioning the perspective of feminist decoding to center stage (Shiran 2003).
Moreover, the growing feminist activity of young women, as reflected on Face-
book pages, demonstrates the emergence of a new generation of feminists who
carry on the struggle against the sex trade in Israel. These young women are pro-
foundly aware of the harmful impact of prostitution in any form on underprivi-
leged females in particular and on the whole society at large.28 These committed
feminists contribute significantly to raising public awareness about the crucial
role of male sex buyers, about the cruel violence used against women in prostitu-
tion, about the prostituting of life in Israel and about state institutions’ roles in
accommodating prostitution and pornography.
Despite the growing scholarship on prostitution, trafficking in women and
pornography in Israel, knowledge of these areas is still limited. We suggest that
Introduction 15
further ethnographic work is required to study life in prostitution and on prosti-
tution in different social strata, age groups and ethnic groups (including Israeli-
Palestinian, Ethiopian, religious, minors, Mizrahi, Ashkenazi and Russian).
Comparative evaluations of ways to eliminate these phenomena, debates in social
media, and developing strategies which provide women in prostitution with eco-
nomic alternatives all can contribute to the understanding and to the abolition of
prostitution and pornography. We hope this volume will encourage our Israeli and
international colleagues in academia as well as grass-roots activists to pursue the
expansion of knowledge and the development of tools to promote the struggle
against prostitution, trafficking in women and pornography.
About the book

The approach taken by the editors and authors in this book perceives the govern-
ment, both central and local, as playing a crucial role in the expansion of prostitu-
tion and pornography, just as it is responsible for men’s violence against women
and for its prevention (Shadmi 2003). The articles contained in the book clearly
indicate the government’s role in the existence of prostitution at the level of street,
brothel, and digital and traditional media. The government can and should develop
legislative, administrative means and allocate funds needed for a policy that aims
at abolishing this reality.
The articles ahead expose the extent of gender power relations and of the state
patriarchy that support the collective control of women at the hands of men; as
well as the structured weakness of women that enables their sexual degradation
and exploitation. The consequences of power disparities are manifested in the
way the police force handles violence against women in general, and against
women in prostitution in particular (Shadmi’s article, Chapter 3). Social and
political processes described in this book (Dahan Kalev’s and Alroey’s articles,
Chapters 1 and 4, respectively), point to the role of state institutions and of eco-
nomic power centers in maintaining the phenomenon of prostitution. The judicial
system provides legal rulings that lean on the seemingly egalitarian liberal dis-
course which ignores exploitation of and violence towards women (Cavaglion’s
and Noy’s article, Chapter 2). Myths and stereotypes serve to deepen the scorn
displayed by society towards prostitution while reinforcing the prevailing atti-
tudes towards women in prostitution (Artman Partock’s and Kara-Ivanov Kaniel’s
article, Chapter 7). Similarly, cinema further reinforces stereotypical perceptions
that serve the patriarchal socio-economic power structure (Munk’s article, Chap-
ter 8). The Israeli macho-militaristic culture nurtures male numbness with regard
to the implications of their attitude to women and youth in prostitution (Bruker’s
and Padva’s articles, Chapters 6 and 9, respectively).
The welfare system in the neo-liberal state is the long arm of patriarchy. By
continuously reducing support for disadvantaged groups, and especially for
poverty-stricken mothers, the state pushes them indirectly into prostitution as a
means of survival and maintaining custody of their children. The socio-economic
aspect is particularly conspicuous in the context of women immigrants who are
being pushed into prostitution – Ashkenazi, Mizrahi or Arab in the pre-state
period (Alroey 2003; Bernstein 2008), and women from Eastern European and
former USSR countries in the late 1990s (Hammerman 2004; Chaikin and Safran
2011). Isolation from services, absence of support by various authorities, and
demonization via stereotypes silence and paralyze these women (Rizkalla’s arti-
cle, Chapter 5).
To date, the phenomenon of prostitution in Israel has focused primarily on
women. The Hebrew edition of this book included five articles exploring the topic
of male clientele. The current edition contains two articles dealing with prostitu-
tion from the male perspective: purchase of women’s sexual services in Thailand
by Israeli men (Bruker’s article, Chapter 6), and purchase of sexual services from
young male adolescents in Israel by men (Padva’s article, Chapter 9). These arti-
cles explore the rhetorical justifications and metaphorical technique that serve
men while harshly exploiting women and young males.
The book is divided into four parts. Part I discusses the crucial role of the state
in the existence and expansion of the sex trade, and its role in combatting it. This
part points to the embedded connection between the state and capital behind the
sex trade. In Chapter 1, Henriette Dahan Kalev offers a historical summary of the
state’s attitude to prostitution. Analyzing case studies from the Israeli context, she
discusses ancient times and contemporary discourse relating to prostitution. It is
argued that forms of political control of prostitution in the Greek polis, the medi-
eval era, and throughout to the industrial revolution reveals that sexuality – either
“good” or “bad” – is consistently associated with capital. Also, Engels (1884)
suggested the family is one of the most effective agents of the state in controlling
the threads that associate sexuality and capital. The last part of the article focuses
on contemporary Israel and its prominent role in trafficking women in the globali-
zation era.
In Chapter 2, Gabriel Cavaglion and Smadar Noy’s article provides a critical
overview of the phenomenon of women who traffic other women for sex in Israel,
as part of the global phenomenon of migration and crime. It discusses several
factors that might contribute to explaining this crime perpetrated by women. The
article analyzes a sample of criminal law verdicts, mostly based on plea bargains
by Israeli courts (mostly district courts), rendered against women accused of traf-
ficking other women over 13 years (2000–2013). The authors argue that in the
vast majority of cases of women defendants involved in trafficking, judges tend to
endorse plea bargains while expressing their amazement at the lenient sentences.
A feminist critique of contemporary policing in Israel is offered by Erella
Shadmi in Chapter 3. Shadmi confronts policing from the perspective of experi-
ence by women – women in prostitution in particular. Thus, Shadmi attempts to
unmask the manner in which policing is not only gender-biased but also works
against women’s good. Her analysis relates to the structural features of policing
in Israel, to its symbolic functions and to the police performance in cases of male
violence against women, especially women in prostitution. Consequently, Shadmi
argues that only a comprehensive restructuring of policing may lead to true pro-
tection of and service to women.
Introduction 17
Part II examines the role of social policies in Israel, and of socially accepted
“macho” norms, in nourishing the sex trade. The white-slave trade in women,
which was conducted in early twentieth century Palestine, is described by Gur
Alroey in Chapter 4. Alroey attempts to trace the root causes of this phenom-
enon, and to place it within the wider historical context. He argues that the white-
slave trade in women in Palestine was an integral part of the global trafficking in
women during that period. Moreover, it was inseparable from the realities of Jew-
ish life in Eastern Europe and from the mass migration of peoples that began in
the second half of the nineteenth century. The white-slave trade in Palestine came
to an end only when the trade as a whole came to an end. But with the renewal of
the waves of immigration to the state of Israel at the end of the twentieth century,
it was renewed in all its ugliness and cruelty.
Based on personal experience as a director of an Israeli Ministry of Health
clinic that treats women in prostitution, Niveen Rizkalla in Chapter 5 analyzes
and criticizes the aggressive muting of those women, accomplished by keeping
them away in the darkness and silencing their voices. She contends that women
in prostitution suffer from the public’s demonizing stereotypes, isolation from
services, neglect from support by authorities and their own familial and spousal/
pimp connections. All these things place them in silent, unheard and unseen posi-
tions. By giving words to the unsaid, Rizkalla hopes that the voices of women in
prostitution will be heard and can serve to elevate the awareness of their suffering
and promote support of these transparent women.
Based on anthropological fieldwork in the city of Pattaya, Thailand, Guy Bruker
argues in Chapter 6 that while the neo-liberal system radicalizes the economical
inequality between both countries, it also deepens power gaps between men and
women and between different social classes. Analyzing some 60 interviews with
Israeli sex tourists, Bruker points to the ambiguity that is central to the customer-
prostitute relationship, where on the one hand the woman in prostitution is per-
ceived by the men as “goods” and yet, on the other, the relationship with them
is structured as a mutual love. The article clarifies that the cycles of influence of
prostitution and sex tourism indirectly include the life partners of these customers,
women in Israel, and the culture of origin to which sex tourists return.
Part III discusses cultural aspects – religion, tradition, myths, art, morality –
in which prostitution is embedded. Tali Artman Partock and Ruth Kara-Ivanov
Kaniel explore in Chapter 7 the development of the concepts of “prostitute” and
“prostitution” in the context of Jewish tradition and myth, and discuss the ways
it affects our thought in current discourse. They argue that the literary persona of
the woman in prostitution represents the confusion between mythical and meta-
phorical use of the concept. The reality of prostitution results in an epistemologi-
cal “black hole”, which serves both to humiliate and to divinize the woman in
prostitution in biblical, rabbinical and Kabbalistic literature. Exploring examples
from the Bible, the Talmud and the Zohar, the authors challenge the common
assumption regarding the glorification of the “mythical prostitute”. Concurrently,
they draw connections between the Christian and Jewish messianic myth, and its
influence on both the virginal conception of Mary and the “holy prostitute”.
Yael Munk in Chapter 8 examines the representation of prostitution in Israeli
cinema. She contends that this representation has never been innocent. Rather, it
has reflected the hegemony’s ethnically biased vision in which Mizrahi women
were attributed highly sexual connotations. Consequently, those women – doomed
to sell their bodies to make a living in a growing Israeli capitalistic society – were
victimized once again by their representation on screen. This misrepresentation
was to change with the emergence of women filmmakers, who could finally draw
attention to the prostitutes’ human traits. Through the analysis of the most repre-
sentative Israeli feature films on this issue, Munk retraces the long journey taken by
Israeli cinema until its acceptance of the woman in prostitution as a human being.
Male prostitution is rarely discussed in mass media and Israeli academia. In
Chapter 9, Gilad Padva analyzes an ideological discourse of male prostitution in
Israel, which took place when a journalist in the gay community published (in
2009) a controversial article on the Israeli internet website gogay.co.il, entitled
“Don’t call me a whore”. The article’s writer stated that he refuses to feel ashamed
of consuming sex services. This confession provoked an intensive debate regard-
ing paid sex in an all-male community. Padva argues that commercialized sex does
not promote sexual freedom and erotic pluralism, but rather stimulates alienation,
practiced chauvinism and cruel, heartless social Darwinism, in which prostituted
men eventually realize that they are the weakest link in the food chain.
Part IV includes two articles that describe and analyze the feminist struggle
against pornography in Israel in the beginning of the millennium. Esther Hertzog
describes in Chapter 10 the feminist struggle aimed at passing a law against pornog-
raphy on public TV. It examines the social implications of introducing pornography
to Israel’s public life in the beginning of the third millennium. Its main argument
is that liberal discourse in the form of “freedom of speech” is manipulated to serve
its own interests by powerful agents in the media, politics and the industry of sex.
Thus, the cover of “freedom of speech” serves to gain public and legal legitimacy
of a phenomenon which is essentially embedded in criminal spheres.
Smadar Ben-Natan, who represented the anti-pornography coalition in peti-
tions to the Supreme Court of Justice, examines in Chapter 11 the latter’s decision
affirming the legality of Playboy Channel broadcasts in Israel. She criticizes the
comparison made by the Court to two “freedom of speech” legal traditions, that
of Canada and that of the United States. She argues that the Israeli court did not
put forward a consistent doctrine of freedom of speech, but alternated between
various systems that are crucially different from one another. Ben-Natan suggests
that the feminist discussion of pornography may gain a lot by studying the legal
and judicial responses to expressions of racism, and draws the necessary analo-
gies between the two fields.
The book discusses issues related to the sex trade that are on the feminist agenda
in Israel. It points to the cost for society as a whole, and cries out on behalf of the
victims.
The book aims to add important value to the comprehensive study of pros-
titution, pornography and trafficking in women in general and particularly in
Israel and to promote data-based, fair and efficient social policy. The sex industry
Introduction 19
in Israel is described and analyzed using feminist concepts and scholarship. It
emphasizes two main perspectives: patriarchy and its embedded connection with
capitalism, which suggests the need to re-focus on male control in society at large;
and the interconnectedness of prostitution, trafficking in women and pornography.
The Israeli context – and especially the foci offered in some chapters on various
institutions – may contribute to the analyses of the triple-faceted phenomenon in
other countries and contexts. The innovative interpretations offered by the authors
illuminate the special challenges faced by the Israeli state, society and culture and
by specific institutions, such as the courts and the police.
The book strives to deepen and expand the academic and feminist discourse
concerning the sex industry, offering a broad spectrum that includes historical,
sociological, anthropological and cultural analyses. As such, this book might be
seen as a basic anthology for learning about the three interconnected phenomena
and as re-emphasizing the role of patriarchy, capitalism and the state in structur-
ing and preserving the sex trade. It can serve researchers and students, journal-
ists, policy makers and anyone interested in expanding her or his knowledge with
regard to these topics.
Notes
1 In a similar vein, Gail Dines (2010) illustrates how porn messages, ideologies and
images trickle into our everyday life.
2 The concept of “patriarchy” is discussed more widely later in the introduction.
3 A recently published article by Melinda Tankard Reist (2016), an Australian activist,
re-exposes the detrimental impacts of pornography on children. See www.childhood-
trauma.org.au/2016/july/melinda-tankard-reist, accessed: July 21, 2018. A review of
the literature (since 2005) regarding the impact of internet pornography on adolescents
suggests consistent findings that link, for instance, “adolescent use of pornography that
depicts violence with increased degrees of sexually aggressive behavior” (Owens et al.
2012, 116).
4 See www.haaretz.co.il/gallery/general-articles/1.3301846, an article by Sa’ar Gamzu
in Achbar Ha’ir online section in Ha’aretz, March 9, 2010, accessed: July 19, 2018.
See illustrations on: http://men.nana10.co.il/Article/?ArticleID=736006&sid=246
5 The article is subtitled “Dana Levi, a prostitution survivor explains that there is no dif-
ference between prostitution and porno, except for the camera”. www.ha-makom.co.il/
article/dana-levy-porn-industry, accessed: July 21, 2018 (Hebrew).
6 http://todaango.org.il/?page_id=322, accessed: July 21, 2018 (Hebrew).
7 Data taken from online pornography internet users who took part in the General Social
Survey for the year 2000 suggests that men are 543% more likely to look at porn than
women (Covenant Eyes 2013, 8).
8 Covenant Eyes (2013) reports that analyzing top-selling pornographic content suggests
that “88% of scenes contain physical aggression (principally spanking, gagging, slap-
ping, etc.)”, 6. See also “Pornography and violence”, 25–26, in Covenant Eyes 2013).
9 http://m.knesset.gov.il/news/pressreleases/pages/press21116n.aspx, accessed: July 21,
2018 (Hebrew).
10 The website Medium reports that “According to various reports, currently, the porn
industry’s net worth is about $97 billion. . . . Every year, Hollywood releases roughly
600 movies and makes $10 billion in profit. And how much porn industry makes? 13,000
films and close to $15 billion in profit” (https://medium.com/@Strange_bt_True/how-
big-is-the-porn-industry-fbc1ac78091b, accessed: July 19, 2018). Los Angeles Daily
News reports (June 5, 2007) that “porn is a $12 billion industry” in the US (www.
dailynews.com/2007/06/05/porn-is-a-12-billion-industry-but-profits-leave-the-valley/,
accessed: July 19, 2018).
11 www.haaretz.co.il/news/education/1.2873474, accessed: July 21, 2018 (Hebrew).
12 A survey by the Ministries of Welfare and Interior Home Security (Santo and Karmeli
2016) found that in 2014 some 11,190–12,040 people were involved in prostitution. Of
them, 95% were women and the rest were men. Some 970–1,260 were female minors.
Also, 66% of the women reported that entering prostitution was because of economic
distress and 7% because of drug addiction and/or alcoholism; 43% of the women were
Israeli-born, and 52% from the former Soviet Union and Eastern Europe.
13 www.daat.ac.il/daat/toshba/ishut/ishut2.htm, accessed: July 21, 2018 (Hebrew).
14 www.mako.co.il/travel-weekend/Article-c63fca9f8a20e41006.htm, accessed: July 21,
2018 (Hebrew).
15 This anthology is an updated version of the one originally published in Hebrew (Hert-
zog and Shadmi 2013). Five of the original articles are contained in the current book
(these are Dahan Kalev’s, Chapter 1; Alroey’s, Chapter 4; Padva’s, Chapter 9; Hert-
zog’s, Chapter 10; and Ben-Natan’s, Chapter 11).
16 Hila Shamir (2016) argues that contrary to positions criticizing the absence of the
state’s consistency with regard to prostitution, the gap between the law in the books
and the law in action contains some advantages, from the perspective of the woman
in prostitution. However, Nomi Levenkron (2013) argues to the opposite, that “the
aggressive humiliating policy directed at them [prostitutes] today by the police pushes
them further into the world of prostitution instead of ‘saving them’ . . . the prevailing
policy should not be allowed” (208).
17 Women’s Parliament is a public forum for discussing issues on the public agenda, from
a feminist perspective. Since its establishment in November 1999, it has organized
over 95 sessions across the country.
18 See Israel Knesset website www.knesset.gov.il/committees/heb/docs/sachar_main.
htm, accessed: July 21, 2018 (Hebrew).
19 ‫“ ةيحاص ערה‬Awake” is a closed group on Facebook.
20 www.facebook.com/When-He-Pays-953331571347707/, accessed: July 21, 2018
(Hebrew).
21 Examples of organizations involved in this activity are: Toda’a (Awareness) Institute,
Elem (Youth in Distress), Sal’it (Assistance for Women in the Cycle of Prostitution)
and Isha Le’Isha (Woman to Woman).
22 See Facebook pages “Awake” and “When he pays”, notes 19 and 20.
23 Data presented on the website of the Israeli Ministry of Welfare: www.molsa.gov.il/
POPULATIONS/FEMALES/WOMENINPROSTITUTIONCIRCLE/Pages/Women
InProstitutionCircleHomePage.aspx, accessed: July 7, 2016 (Hebrew).
24 See Trafficking in persons report, July 2015, Department of State, USA: www.state.
gov/documents/organization/258879.pdf, accessed: July 7, 2016.
25 The National Survey on the Phenomenon of Prostitution in Israel, April 2016, published
by the Ministry of Welfare and the Ministry of Internal Security. www.molsa.gov.il/
CommunityInfo/ResearchAndEvaluation/tb_ResearchesAndPublications/%
D7%A1%D7%A7%D7%A8%20%D7%9C%D7%90%D7%95%D7%9E%D7%99-
%D7%A9%D7%A2%D7%A8%20%D7%95%D7%AA%D7%95%
D7%9B%D7%9F%20-%20%D7%9E%D7%95%D7%A0%D7%92%D7%A9%20
%D7%A1%D7%95%D7%A4%D7%99%20-%2030-5-16.pdf, accessed: July 21,
2018 (in Hebrew).
26 Thus, for instance, in a post on Facebook dated July 7, 2016, a Druze woman reported
that about 100 Druze women had been missing from their homes for a long time and
no one was searching for them.
27 See www.jewishpress.com/news/breaking-news/anti-porn-censorship-bill-passes-
unanimously-in-ministerial-committee/2016/10/30/, accessed: April 8, 2017.
28 See notes 20, 21.
Introduction 21
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2001.html, accessed: July 19, 2018).
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258879.pdf, accessed: December 13, 2016).
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258876.pdf, accessed: July 19, 2018).
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and Kegan Paul.
Vandenberg, Martina, and Noga Applebaum. 1997. Trafficking of women to Israel and
forced trafficking in women for sex. Jerusalem: The Israel Women’s Network.
Wagenaar, Hendrik, Sietske Altink, and Helga Amesberger. 2013. Final report of the inter-
national comparative study of prostitution policy: Austria and the Netherlands. Den
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Part I
The state and the sex trade

1 Prostitution and the state
Israel illustrated
Henriette Dahan Kalev
Introduction
This article pursues the state’s role in the constitution of prostitution. Sexuality
and capital are associated together through prostitution. In the marriage bond,
capital and sexuality are associated, as well. Why then are these two forms of
association between capital and sexuality so deeply separated? The argument in
this discussion is that the state claiming exclusive control of both capital and sexu-
ality for the benefit of all its citizens is the superior agent which stands behind this
split. I argue that prostitution and pandering is an activity viewed by the state as
challenging its claim for exclusive control of capital and sexuality. Unlike prosti-
tution, in marriage bonds, the linkage of sexuality and capital is openly controlled
by the state, supported by agents like the legal system, religious laws and cultural
norms. Although prostitution also involves association of sexuality with capital,
it is perceived as illegitimate and often controlled in more obscured ways. In this
respect, sexuality and capital activity are signified as good or bad according to the
degree of their confinement to the state’s political order; hence, they are political
issues that belong to the public sphere and the state’s affairs. On the other hand,
they are placed in what is often considered as the private sphere that concerns the
individual and family affairs. Sure enough, the state still makes sure to interfere
in the private sphere, as well. There are “good wives” and “bad prostitutes”; there
is black capital and white capital. The state sometimes bans and outlaws prosti-
tution, and in some other times it institutionalizes it by demanding registration
and taxation of this activity. Looking into ancient myths and old civilization we
learn about implicit fears of female sexuality and its impact on production and
reproduction processes. Women’s sexuality is politicized by associating it to their
duty to preservation of the human species and the nation. The family, tribe or
state designation are constructed around this function. How this order of things is
maintained is hereafter briefly explored.
The association of sexuality and pollution in myths

Pollution and purity, dirt and cleanliness play a crucial role in communities’ con-
struction and maintenance of order. Rituals and ceremonies play a significant
28 Henriette Dahan Kalev
role in protecting the community from disorder and disintegration. Mary Doug-
las (2004) showed that beliefs with regard to pollution, dirt and impurity are
symbolically linked with diseases (29, 136). Analogies of order and purity, and
chaos and pollution, are embedded in the state as the chief guardian of order.
Well-functioning legal systems, effective police and enforcement of order are all
marks of the civilized state, of clean and healthy politics of sexuality and sexual
culture. Within this context sexual activity, like other human relations, is catego-
rized in dichotomies and classified as either “good” or “bad”. “Good” sexuality is
mostly associated with reproduction of the human species, whereas “bad” sexual-
ity doesn’t contribute to the preservation of the species. Although practiced by
and for individual purposes, it is held as having implications for the entire society
(ibid., 28–29, 90). Obscurity of this division may lead to chaos and be dangerous
to what Douglas defines as the “unified experience” (ibid., 28–29). The concept
of “unified experience” represents a mechanism that produces substantial cat-
egories that help dividing to ethical virtues of “good” and “bad”, even when the
placement of things is not always clear to the individual. Hence, dichotomies like
order/chaos, cleanliness/dirt, health/disease and purity/pollution are kept together
and produce the “unified experience” of society. They are political issues made
the responsibility of the state. Gale Rubin (1993) took the dichotomy principle
further to coupling hierarchies and typology of sexualities. Sexual perception,
according to her analysis, corresponds not only to gender and sex binaries, but
also works to put them in a missionary pyramid: On the top is the reproduction
mission, going down through to the bottom, where prostitution is viewed as dis-
integrating the society.
The discourse on sexuality apparently restrains the human body, particularly
the female body. It substantially links between the personal and the social body
(Douglas 2004, 117–159). Erotogenic parts of the body are central to the divide
between purity and pollution (ibid., 29, 117–159). The virginity membrane in
this respect symbolizes in many cultures and religions social integrity; it is there-
fore sanctified (ibid., 67–81). All three monotheistic religions – Judaism, Chris-
tianity and Islam – hold the virginity membrane as a material mark of the pure
community of believers. Women are held the prime individuals responsible not
only for their own purity, but also for the community purity. Violation of the
female body is viewed as the woman’s fault. Thus, for example, it is argued that
promiscuous women cannot be raped (Brownmiller 1980, 354, 379; Douglas
2004, 120). Yet, in the three monotheistic religions, males – ordered by hierar-
chical authority regarding women’s sexual violation as a crime that pertains to
the community and their own honor – are in charge of protecting women as part
of their property: first responsibility is on the woman’s father, then her brother,
her husband, her son and finally the head of the community, the tribe chief, the
extended family head; and in modern societies, it is the law, the church or the
congregation and the state’s law enforcement systems. In the end, it has to do
with the cleanliness of society. Abarbanel argues that these sexual patterns are
universally embedded in human civilization (Abarbanel 1994, 10), not exclusive
Prostitution and the state 29
to Judaism, but receives different forms and imperatives with respect to the par-
ticular cultures.
Biblical roots of sexuality and prostitution

The “unifying experience” principle has placed prostitutes on the wrong side
of the political order. How dangerous the prostitute is to the political order one
can infer from the fact that the priest, the rabbi, the psychologist, the physician,
the officer, the community expert and of course the politician are all agents who
are concerned with the issue of prostitution. These are the most powerful agents
authorized by the state or the community to engage with prostitution (Foucault
1996). Women who gain money from their sexual activity are viewed as rebel-
lious and perverted. Women may act, as Hegel and Fridrich (2008, 169 [note 166])
put it, “who knows how” because they are considered as dangerous to the political
order. But these perceptions of the female sexual powers as destructive and mys-
terious can be found much earlier in the human civilization. The myth of Lilith
that appears in the Hebrew Sages’ scripts (Hazal) may be the first in the mono-
theistic religions to refer to this issue. Nevertheless, it is similar to earlier roots
of the Babylonian myth of Gilgamesh. According to a Midrash of “Alfa Beita
d’Ben Sira” from the ninth century, Eve, who was created from Adam’s rib, has a
twin named Lilith (Ezrachi and Gafni 2005, 30–31, 75.) Lilith is mentioned in an
earlier version of the scripts before the story of the creation. She appears in Baby-
lonian myth and represents the opposite figure of Eve in the Bible (Genesis 2:21).
While Eve represents pure maternity that is sterile from sexuality, and her birth
giving is painful but clean from blood and passion, Lilith is sensual, free, wild and
rebellious – and in this respect dangerous, for she cannot be controlled. She is the
“first Eve”. She was created like Adam of mud. In the Sumerian episodes of Gil-
gamesh in the 18th and 19th centuries BC, as Idit Pintel (1981) shows, Lilith is the
other figure of Eve, the opposite of the obedient, faithful, moral woman respon-
sible for the human species (Abarbanel 1994, 15). Ezrachi and Gafni continue
to explain that Eve’s task is strictly elaborated from a rather mysterious Midrash
brought from oblivious part in Zohar, according to which Lilith was not created
of the same mud that Adam was made of but from the remaining trash of that mud
and yeast of the earth. She is therefore not part of his body. This is what explains
her being corrupted: “Had they been created of the same material they should have
reacted to life in the same way, but they didn’t and therefore the Midrash inferred
that she must have been created from a lower quality of mud” (Ezrachi and Gafni
2005, 31). At this point, Midrash Ben Sira follows the myth and reports how
sexuality is constructed in this episode. Adam was threatened by Lilith’s demand
to be “on top” when they had sexual intercourse, but he refused and deported her
to the world of demons (Ezrachi and Gafni 2005, 37). In the myths, she represents
the “unexplained aspects of womanhood” and belongs to the world of demons.
The story goes on to tell that she becomes wife of Samal, the “great demon”, and
picks on other males. She comes in their dreams, when they are asleep, seduces
them and has intercourse with them and gives birth to little demons and other bad
spirits. She also hates little babies and kills them (Ezrachi and Gafni 2005, 31,
38–41, 75). One can see how old myths charge female sexuality with a fearful
load that aims at splitting between sexuality and maternity as two separate func-
tions either to “good purpose” or to “bad purpose”; hence, “good sexuality” and
“bad sexuality” should be learned as part of moral conduct. In other monotheistic
religions, these ideas carry almost identical imperatives of separating between
“good” and “bad” sexuality along lines of material/dirty and spiritual/clean sexu-
alities. Julia Kristeva in her article “Stabat Mater” emphasizes the link of mater-
nity with spirituality and purity, and shows how these imperatives hold not only
in the ancient era and not only in Judaism, but also to Christianity in our days
(Kristeva 1997, 302–319).
With regard to “bad sexuality”, Meir Gruber links it to prostitution, comment-
ing that there is a difficulty to interpret the Hebrew biblical word ‫“ הנוז‬zona”,
harlot, which in modern Hebrew indicates “a prostitute” (Vishnia-Feig 2005,
6–7). The Torah, the Prophets and the Sages perceived harlotry as evil, but,
as Gruber argues, an explicit command to punish for harlotry and clients that
consume it is not found in the scripts (Gruber 2005, 29); he thus concludes that
prostitution had different function for the community. Moreover, there is no
explicit prohibition of harlotry so long the daughters of Israel are not involved.
It is said in the book of Leviticus, 19, verse 29: “Profane not thy daughter, to
make her a harlot, lest the land fall into harlotry, and the land become full of
lewdness”. And then, in Leviticus 21:9, “And the daughter of any priest, if she
profanes herself by playing the harlot, she profanes her father: she shall be burnt
with fire”. This is an exceptional punishment of death by burning when the
daughter of the priest commits the crime of harlotry (De’or 1990). However, it
is not clear if the severe punishment is because she is a married young woman
or because she lost her virginity (Gruber 2005, 22). This indistinct observation
delineates for women the “negative commands” of what should women abstain
from doing according to the Jewish law; thus, it limits the discussion to issues
of the right sexual conduct.
The patriarchy and the state

The demonization of women and the dichotomy between “good” and “bad”
sexuality as described so far in the old Jewish scripts and myths reflect ancient
forms of fear of women’s sexuality. The expression of this fear does not seem to
vanish, although it takes different forms and is expressed in different contexts.
Mythological Lilith may have become a marginal figure, but the untamed female
sexual forces that she embodies have various expressions with powerful tacit
threats. This discourse is redesigned in psychoanalytical terms and is represented
in unconscious oedipal processes, which explain the way in which the personal-
ity is gendered and sexually constructed. More specifically, sexual development
is subordinated to properly functioning family: dad-mom-baby (Deleuze and
Guattari 2003). Freud’s last book, Moses and monotheism (1937), goes earlier to
discuss in the first mode of monotheistic faith, Judaism, how male domination is
the cornerstone of monotheistic belief. Jacques Lacan has taken Freud’s percep-
tion of the father’s role in the family foundation and the idea of monotheistic
faith further to show how patriarchy is mentally constructed and how it links
state and sexuality. He developed the idea of “Nom-du-pere” to show the crucial
role of the father as the child’s contest for the mother’s love and the founder of
the social order. The father redeems the child from the psychosis and facilitates
his initiation to the social system (Vanier 2003). For Lacan, the symbolic posi-
tion of the father – the patriarch – is the one that counts. It is the source of the
law, primarily prohibition of the incest law which is passed in the paternal legacy
from father to son. This law prohibits sexual relations with the sister and the
mother and draw strict line between them and the rest of females who are free for
men to be taken. The law, being expressed in language and the speech, lays the
ground for the patriarchal culture. At this point, the patriarchal law coincides with
the law of the state and becomes political. This idea is well established in con-
temporary Western political theories, and appears either explicitly or implicitly
in works such as Weber’s (1994, 311) and later on in Migdal’s “Rethinking the
state”, (Migdal and Schlichte 2005, 8). Weber, for example, constitutes his ideas
of authority, political authority, political order and government around the notion
of patriarchy. In turn, patriarchal family and household are the foundations on
which these ideas are developed. Walby’s critique (1989) of these ideas is a sig-
nificant account of female subordination in the contemporary patriarchal society.
Whether they are compatible or in disagreement with other governmental sys-
tems such as capitalism or socialism, they all appear to result in women’s sexual
subordination. Hence, the state is necessarily patriarchal – and legal, religious,
educational, and law and order enforcement institutions follow this pattern to
exclude women by virtue of patriarchy (Walby 1989, 213–231). Feminists critics
such as de Beauvoir (1974), Irigaray (1974) and Butler (2004) may accept it as
a symbiotic expression of relationship between the state and the patriarchal con-
cept “nom du père” (“the name of the father”), but argue that it is not essential to
government whatsoever; hence, denouncing women’s inferiority altogether. The
state however plays a patriarchal role that connects the father and the family. The
state symbolises the patriarchal political order. But it seems that sexual subordi-
nation is not deconstructed due to this analysis, and still stands intact because of
the reproduction task. The reproduction task not only sexualizes the division of
labor, but it is also abused through its association to the state’s affair as part and
parcel of patriarchal domination. Israel being established on Zionist ethos striv-
ing for revival of the Jewish people in a modern and equal society has raised high
expectations of social equality, and thus, sexual equality. Instead, Israel’s path
resulted in becoming a “regular” modern state with democratic regime which
nevertheless is exclusively based on patriarchal features. A famous expression of
Israel’s first Prime Minister David Ben Gurion provides some evidence for this
claim. Ben Gurion was quoted as saying: “We will know we have become a nor-
mal country when Jewish thieves and Jewish prostitutes conduct their business in
Hebrew”.1 That is, Israel’s “normality” implies the existence of prostitution (and
crime). Hebrew speaking prostitutes (and thieves) is the indicator of a “normal”
(patriarchal) state.
One sex-capital continuum for family and prostitution

At this point of analysis, it is clear that female sexuality of prostitutes and
“decent” women are constructions placed on the same continuum on the social
order. Healthy families are the ones in which functional and reproductive sexu-
ality is practiced. A form of monogamous family whereby women also practice
prostitution is inconceivable, but patriarchy has “always found a solution” for the
problem that men faced when practicing extra-marital sex. In the analysis of the
Origin of the Family, Friedrich Engels (1940) explored how women are placed on
the spectrum ranging from prostitution to decency within the bourgeoisie. Private
property, he argued, is the reason for subordination of women, and hence subor-
dination of female sexuality. Women are denied the rights of accumulation of pri-
vate property and capital. The nuclear family in Engels’ writing lays the ground
for the social mode of production and reproduction. This is where the essential
starting point of bourgeoisie social order begins. Capital links class struggle first
in the family, not in the proletarian and bourgeois relation. Sexuality – not just
labor – is linked to capital (Engels, ibid., 42.) Family in its nuclear form is the
basic economic unit of the capitalist state. The laws that constitute sexuality and
capital links are on the one hand laws of inheritance, and on the other laws of
marriage, whereas prostitution is outlawed in this context. Religion and cultural
codes enhance intertwining these two sets of laws and bind them together with
one another. The family is the basic unit for keeping in concert private property
accumulation and female sexual subordination. Through the family laws, capital
transmits from one generation to the other in the same paths and women are sub-
ordinated within monogamous marriage arrangements (Engels 1940, 43). In this
order of things, Engels argues, love, affection and sexual relations between indi-
viduals are of secondary meaning, if not irrelevant (Engels 1940, 43). Neverthe-
less, the monogamous family laws in this framework have put sexual restriction
on male, too; they couldn’t practice sex if not within the family and wife only,
and if doing so, they violate the law. Indeed, they did not confine themselves
to these codes and kept consuming sex services out of the family constructing
alternative form of sexuality. Engels suggests that the institution called Hetaer-
ism was constructed precisely for the solution of male sex restricting problem as
instructed in monogamous family code. “Hetaera” is a word in old Greek that
indicates a courtesan (Ustinova 2005, 30). Hetaerism allowed men to freely prac-
tice sex with women who were not their wives without breaching the inheritance
laws and monogamous family order (Engels 1940, 44). Hetaerism enabled men
to have legitimate sexual relationship with women who functioned as mistresses
next to their family. Hetaerism and mistress constructs transformed along the
years from secretive institution to more open and closer to prostitution. In this
setting of male/female relations, the state’s legal control and the family agency
are all based on denial of the right of women to accumulate property, either as
legal wives or as Hetaeras. Their sexuality, body and reproduction abilities are
owned by men in return for legitimate social status and economic security, but no
future prospects (ibid., 48). Engels’ analysis demonstrates how sexual constructs
and capital are linked in a perhaps more subtle threads, but it also presents again
the old idea of splitting sexuality into “good” and “bad” remains essential to
the social order (ibid., 42–53). He understood that women’s subordination and
loyalty are indispensable for state’s interests, but that the state has also allowed a
sort of implicit polygamy through Hetaerism in order to preserve the bourgeoisie
state (ibid., 51).
Engels’ analysis, however, suffers from a discrepancy in understanding how
powerful patriarchy is. Engels impetuously believed that as soon as the revolution
occurs, the bourgeoisie elements of private property and the nuclear family will
disappear, along with all forms of oppression including that of women’s sexual
subordination by men. He believed that along with the disappearance of proletar-
ian exploitation and transformation of the means of production to the extended
social body, private property will disappear and the worry about inheritance of
property will become surplus and eventually vanish. That, he believed, will bring
the end to the necessity of women to sell their bodies, because there will be no
need to secure transition of private property to the next generation in private chan-
nels, thus Hetaerism will also become a sexual construct of the past (ibid., 52). In
other words, for Engels, abolition of capitalism will bear the fruits of prostitution’s
disappearance (ibid., 57–58). But Engels overstated the principle of the nom du
père when he assumed that prostitution will disappear along with private property.
The idea of nom du père, I argue, seemed to be more deeply rooted in myths and
mental constructions which constitute the individual psyche. The father, source of
patriarchy, collides with that of the state, be it capitalist, communist or tribal, and
as long as the state is patriarchal and linked with the nom du père, the patriarchal
order will continue to maintain the link between sexuality and capital. For this
matter, not necessarily private capital, female sexuality, is always controlled by
men. In the last part of this article, we shall see how the state’s boundaries are
loosened, but it has no effect on females’ sexual subordination. Sexuality as it
results in patriarchy should therefore be reexamined within the context of histori-
cal trend of patriarchy. The next part of this study examines trends in sexual per-
missiveness, the development of romantic love and their impact on loosening the
distinction between “good” and “bad” sexuality. This line of analysis sheds light
not only on the state’s patriarchy, but also on its heterosexual nature.
Prostitution in the modern Western world

In her book Consuming the romantic utopia, Eva Illouz (2002) argued that roman-
tic love in the modern era works as another layer to hide its foundational economic
elements (ibid., 56–62). The ideal of romantic love became in prospering capitalist
time a path to marriage and sexual relations (ibid., 80–83, 186–187). Idealization
of romantic love was sanctified, enabling unmarried women who have intercourse
to still remain pure believing that they are on the path of having a decent family
(ibid., 40). It was taken as prearrangement to marriage which is yet to be deter-
mined economically by parents of both families, the community authorities and
the state’s law. Thus, romantic love has only temporarily expropriated the right to
sexual relations, and love before marriage arrangements returned back the control
of the state and the family. The idea of love as a purifying method, Illouz writes,
is not new. In the Victorian era, love and romance were linked with virtues taken
from the holy scriptures. Romantic sentiment was sanctified and presented as spir-
itual and pure. It was perceived as a means to sublimating lust and elevating the
human spirit by devotion to the beloved person. It was particularly purifying and
spiritual for women (ibid., 40). But while in the Victorian era, romantic love was
perceived as subversive and opposing the marriage institution, in the modern era,
wherein family boundaries are loosened, along with efficient economic function,
the capitalist state embraced instead the ideal of love and eventually commercial-
ized romantic love, i.e., what was considered subversive in the Victorian era was
now tamed by the modern capitalist state and harnessed it to its interests. Hetero-
sexual relations became the exclusive virtue of marriage, although struggles to
reform it and allowing single-sex marriage are in the public debate. The ethos of
love, Illouz suggests, does not stand any more against the ideal of the productive
and reproductive family unit, but complements it (ibid., 40, 58, 202). She adds
that romantic love not only helps the family to appear as “free of interests” but
also, by reconnecting love and family, it helps remove anew its association from
prostitution, as the latter is openly practiced for money (ibid., 81) and marriage
apparently not always. Thus, we are back to the old separation between “good”
and “bad” sexuality. Israel, being a capitalist democratic state meets these features
both as a state and as a society. Moreover, it embraces other extensions of bounda-
ries that transform the split on both sides of sexuality transformation, good and
bad, as will be discussed in the next part.
However, not only the “good” love has been extended but also the “bad” one.
Pornography and new forms of rape animates the “bad” sexuality and relinks
between sexuality and commerce. The philosopher of law, Catharine Mackinnon
(2006), has profoundly discussed these issues.2 Similar to Engels, MacKinnon
argues that the distinction between “good” and “bad” sexuality tend to obscure
(ibid., 383). This linkage leads to the understanding of prostitution as resulting in
a coercive form of male sexuality. That is, not only that prostitution results from
the idea of the ancient nom du père, but from the patriarchal notion of sexuality.
Hence, sex within the state’s context is perceived as something that stems from
biological sources, natural and incontrollable powers. Prostitution, therefore, is
thus discussed within an historical context (ibid., 379, 387) and can be viewed as
primordial.3
Israel – globalization impact on prostitution

Eliezer Somer presented statistics that show that prostitutes are the category that
is mostly raped: “report that 68%–80% of the prostitutes were rape victims. The
estimation is that the prostitute is raped 8–10 times during the year . . . most of the
rape is committed by the clients and 30% of the sexual abuse is caused by their
pimps or other person” (Somer 2000). Globalization itself, in a sense, loosens
the state’s boundaries and weakens old rigid political power. These changes have
affected the connection between capital and sexuality, especially with respect to
prostitution. Opening new sites of sexual activity and moving from one country
to another has internationalized and more intensively politicized trafficking in
women for the purpose of sex services. Sex service became an industry incor-
porated into the tourism industry. To some states, it opens opportunities for new
economic options. This last part will focus on the analysis of sexual tourism in the
Bahamas Islands and trafficking in women to Israel as illustrating cases of new
forms of prostitution in the free world and globalization time.
Nomi Levenkron and Yossi Dahan (2003, 9) report that human trade has con-
stantly increased since globalization began in the 1980s. The main populations
that suffer from this evil are those from poor countries, especially women and
children of minorities in their countries. Human trade, particularly that of women,
takes complex and various shapes which make it difficult to comprehend. Well-
off states, as in many issues, still hold double standards with regard to this phe-
nomenon of decent sex and prostitution. For example, on the one hand, European
countries signed international conventions, but on the other, its citizens can get
away with sex tourism deals and prospering sex trade. This is only one of the
aspects that demonstrates how the line of capital and sex take new forms while
the states turn a blind eye as economic benefits are gained. “Plus ça change, plus
c’est la même chose” (“the more it changes, the more it remains the same”), says
the French proverb. The formation, the boundaries, the measures may be changed,
but essentially remain the same. The global economy is closely connected to the
states’ opening the world markets for free trade. Privatization and elimination of
subsidies in local markets became a condition for economic loans and support of
well-off countries to the poor countries. The world’s trade and financial organiza-
tions enforce economic and social reforms (ibid., 10). This results in economic
recession periods with increasing rates of unemployment, erosion of welfare
support and increase of crime rates, black markets and loss of welfare policy,
encouraging international crime. Human trafficking is a particularly easy and less
risky illegal activity, especially in relation to the drugs and weapon trades (ibid.,
10–12). Most countries prefer the easy way of arresting the women rather than
the male traders (ibid., 16). Legislation against prostitution customers in Israel
has been in process for the last few years, but the question of the complicated
enforcement of the law, and the well-known argument of not many women, who
are in favor of free occupation and claim that it is their choice to practice prostitu-
tion, has stood in the heart of the public debates and activists for long time. It is
reported by the United Nations Industrial Development Organization (UNIDO)
that international crime organizations cross states’ boundaries more easily due to
offering officials and civil servants on the borders sex services (ibid., 12–13). This
is the case in Moldova and Ukraine, where women wish to immigrate and count
on international agencies that do not refrain from criminal trafficking, in this case
to Israel. The stricter the rules of immigration, the more the women are willing to
take their chances. Similar to during the industrial revolution era, in the globali-
zation era, women who find it difficult to survive turn more easily to prostitution
(Roberts 2006, 264–267). “Decent” male tourists are perceived by poor countries
such as those in the Pacific Islands and Southeast Asia as an economic opportu-
nity. Prostitution has reached new climax of commercialization of prostitution in
the economic international free market. Sex services are disguised as massage
and spa services, but are in fact brothels and marketed in the open market and
on the internet. The capital is easier to be bleached without too much risk. Jacqui
Alexander in a groundbreaking study (1997) presented the methods of the state
of The Bahamas in which two-thirds of the economic production is based on sex
tourism. In Israel, the estimation is not accurate and the black market of income
from prostitution is difficult to estimate. The Bahamas allows open advertisement
of sex tourism deals as an integral part of the tourist industry and its economic
policy. This doesn’t prevent The Bahamas from religiously sanctifying the family
and reproduction by the state’s authorities. Prostitution is condemned, but placed
next to the family as a national goal (Alexander 1997, 7). Males from the Western
world tacitly consume tourism in Southeast Asia and hidden codes are exchanged
among them by word of mouth. A less clear and blunt example is the case of
Israel. Israeli male tourists travel to Thailand on a regular basis, knowing that the
tour package includes sex services.
Former MK Chen Reshef expressed a somewhat formal perception of prostitu-
tion, stating:
I suppose, as everyone could understand that the phenomenon exists due to

demand, and if anyone wishes to show me that we can abolish it, I will gladly
join him. I wish that someone could show me where the phenomenon has
successfully been abolished . . . until then if we are to accept the assumption
that in society and particularly in [Israel because of, HDK] the Israeli con-
servative society, where sexual passion is aroused more intensively, unful-
filled and stronger, we will never succeed in abolishing prostitution.4
MK Reshef’s words correspond with long years of legislative policy. In 1962,

then in 2000, two comprehensive legislation reforms on prostitution took place
in Israel. The Criminal Law Amendment (pandering and prostitution) has strictly
prohibited pandering activity.5 In 1997, following the report of the committee that
investigated the problem of prostitution, headed by Judge Hadassah Ben Itto, new
amendments were added to the new Criminal law, in article 10, “prostitution and
obscenity”, which was legislated in the same year (Kamir 2002, 183). The title of
the law points to the problematic approach of the state to the problem as the word
“obscenity” referred to pornographic publications linking it to the discussion on
prostitution in the extended sense in which it is associated with historical and reli-
gions sources. By associating prostitution to obscenity, it points to the corruptive
and immoral association that the committee has attached to it. Institutionalization
of the obscene is hence out of the question.
The State of Israel has signed a few international conventions that commit it to
take actions against trafficking in women. In 1998, the UN Committee of Human
Rights reported that Israel does not uphold the convention (Levenkron and Dahan
2003, 35). In 2002, another report was published, stating that trafficking in women
to Israel stands at 3,000 women a year, but Israel does little to abolish it.6 Only
when the USA in 2001 threatened to ban economic assistance to states which
restrain from acting against trafficking in women, Israel included, did the Israel
authorities begin to cooperate with international organizations for human rights.
Hence, again capital and sexuality were linked. In this report, Israel was promoted
to second degree out of three remaining so on 2003. The second degree indi-
cates that Israel still does not fully uphold the convention standards of struggling
against trafficking in women (Hammerman 2004). The USA report states that:
Israel is a destination country for trafficked people, primarily women. Women

are trafficked to Israel from the not so New Independent States (specifically
Moldova, Russia, and Ukraine), as well as Brazil, Turkey, South Africa, and
some countries in Asia. The Government of Israel does not meet the minimum
standards for combating trafficking in persons, and has not yet made signifi-
cant efforts to combat the problem.7
Israel is a destination state for trafficking of human beings, first and foremost
young women. In 2001, Health Minister Nissim Ben Dahan suggested a rehabili-
tation program for women who were rescued from trafficking, but the program
was shelved for budget reasons (Levenkron and Dahan 2003, 13–18, 50). Ironi-
cally, when the discussion referred to taxing income of profits made of trafficking
in women through fining the bleaching of black capital, there was a more serious
discussion of the program. In conclusion, Israel demonstrates the typical ambiva-
lence that emerges when attempting to struggle – or even to understand – how the
new methods of trafficking in women work in the globalization era. One thing
isn’t lost in this complexity, and that is the clear link between capital and the sex
industry.
After the feminist revolution began its first steps in the 1950s as the women’s
liberation movement, the issue that concerns the question of choice of women
to practice prostitution emerged. This debate continues to be a significant part
of contemporary feminists’ agendas, and seems to not be taken off the feminist
agenda and the state’s public debate. However, it is beyond the scope of this arti-
cle to discuss the issue. A short comment, however is, that the 1949 international
convention on the issue of trafficking women condemned any abuse of woman
who act as prostitutes, even if she does it of her own choice. In 2000, the inter-
national legal definition of human trafficking was amended. The convention has
deliberately avoided clear formulation in the purpose of abstaining from includ-
ing prostitution practiced by choice in this category (Levenkron and Dahan 2003,
14–18). The Bahamas case, as well as that of Israel, proves that international con-
ventions and sanctions can merely succeed in limiting prostitution and keeping it
under control with various degrees of institutionalization. Hence, they should be
seen as new methods to old principle of maintaining political and public order and
allegedly protecting it from collapsing into chaos.
The phenomenon of prostitution in Israel faces two new aspects resulting from
trends of “religionization” and social networks effects. The first stems from radi-
calization of the religionization processes over the last decade. The ultra-Orthodox
and national Orthodox voice the need to struggle against prostitution. Shuli
Mualem, the MK, and Rabbi Eisman represent the political and institutional voices.
Rabbi Eitan Eisman (2018) stresses that:
prostitution destroys sanctity [of the Jewish people, HDK] and the struggle
against it is a struggle for the identity of the people of Israel. A person who is
trapped in prostitution loses her morality and sanctity . . . and a woman is not
allowed to occupy herself (in prostitution, HDK) . . . even if she takes money
for that she still harms herself . . . prostitution is wrap, even if she is paid.
Our duty as a society is to take an action against it as the Mitzvah commands
saving a fellow Jew from the danger of being killed. “. . . neither shalt thou
stand idly by the blood of thy neighbour: I am the LORD”.
ibid. (Leviticus 19:16, emphasis in original)
This perception takes us back to the discourse of the sanctity of the entirety of
the Jewish camp, which the prostitute is blamed of de-sanctifying. With such an
approach, it is not the prostitute who stands in the heart of the Rabbi’s concern,
but the Jewish collective community. His care is not for the woman’s fate, her
body or spirit, but for the social hygiene of the community. Hence, the woman is
bound to exclusion sanctions, as well.
The second problem that the last decade brings to the political threshold and
being short of solution is, as mentioned, the social networking development. The
blessed developments of social media and technology are found to be abused with
respect to prostitution and sexual exploitation. In recent decades, the numbers
of foreign workers and refugees from places where areas of death and persecu-
tion are dangers, mainly in African countries, has increased significantly in Israel.
They concentrate where they have always concentrated, in the big cities where
poverty and slums flourish, mainly in Tel Aviv. These poverty pockets acceler-
ated sex and sexual activity to which new forms of sexual activity was added,
that of “sexual services” ordered through the internet. This combination is part
of the larger complicated crime scene of drugs and violence which turned the
marginal groups who live in the city belts unbearable. The struggle against this
multi-faceted problem as a whole requires a general policy and far more effective
tools and budgets than the state allocate for it. However, prostitution becomes
“only one part” of the multifaceted problem – and hence, the assumption is that
once the big problem is overcame, prostitution will be eradicated, as well. This
assumption made by the policy makers reflects their short-sightedness as to how
complicated the problem is and what new components the political system must
acknowledge in order to effectively face its numerous components. Once again,
the problem of prostitution is marginalized and pushed away from the political
agenda. The Knesset has a subcommittee that is in charge of prostitution and traf-
ficking in women, and termed the internet as the new pimp.8
Discussion and conclusions

Prostitution is a political issue, although it is viewed as dirty sexual activity which
occurs in dark sites of the individuals, male and female, on a private basis.9 I have
examined explicit and implicit layers of culture and politics which connect capi-
tal and mainly sexuality that is viewed as bad sexuality. I unraveled threads that
hold the domination of patriarchy of female sexuality. The mythological distinc-
tion between “good” and “bad” sexuality is constructed to maintain community
order and control the threads that connect capital and sexuality. Prostitution is
not primordial or an historical profession, as it is conventionally believed.10 It
contests the state’s claim to exclusive control of the association of sex and capital.
Abolishing prostitution will deconstruct the structural division that distinguishes
between “good” and “bad”. We could see that sometimes this division is clear,
and sometimes it gets more obscure and loosens. The capitalism and globalization
eras transformed the sex-capital link, but did not disconnect it. It was easier to
cross the line in the romantic era, but legislation of capitalist nature has tightened
the link anew. Trafficking in women for sex purposes has brought oppression and
abuse of women to new records. In the end, prostitution can be seen as a subver-
sive force which keeps the state alert and bears potential for women to claim back
control of their sexuality – just like claiming the control of their bodies, as recent
decades feminist struggles demonstrate.
Thus, the subcommittee promoted the discourse of social media sex abuse to
the forefront of the agenda. The Knesset has follow-ups on academic studies and
keeps in touch with women’s organizations which struggle against trafficking in
women. But it seems, unfortunately, that the dam is breached as the networking of
sexual activity is uncontrollably distributed. The network prostitution consump-
tion has accelerated the prostitution of minors more easily, and chilling testimonies
of customers who distribute their sexual experiences with minors are published
through the network. The negative implication is that these experiences have con-
tagious effects and accelerating influence on potential younger customers. In this
respect, the political authorities do not grasp that the phenomena receive epidemic
circumference. The political authorities come always after the problem and with-
out larger scopes campaigns the sad phenomena are here to stay (Burstein 2012).
The Minister of Justice, Ayelet Shaked, has stated that, “as long as there is no
law that forbids prostitution our children receive the massage that prostitution is
allowed”) Shaked 2017). With this statement within the discourse regarding the
question of banning and convicting the customers of prostitution rather than the
providers of the prostitution services, it become crystal clear that the politics in
which prostitution has emerged as the state’s affair, and as long as it is not satis-
factorily treated by the state, we can infer that the state is the prime agent pimp.
Notes
1 Source: https://www.haaretz.com/jewish/.premium-targeting-jewish-supremacists-1.5248448
2 The source of the word pornography is the Greek word for prostitute (Ustinova 2005,
30).
3 MacKinnon’s perception (2006, 383) is similar to that of Susan Brownmiller 1980,
354, 379.
4 Stenography of conference debate on “Institutionalization of prostitution?” Toda’a
Institute for research of prostitution and women’s trafficking (www.macom.org.il/
todaa-myth.asp).
5 www.nevo.co.il/law_html/Law17/PROP-0494.pdf, accessed July 21, 2018.
6 Israel Women’s Lobby website: www.iwn.org.il/inner.asp?newsid= 26, accessed Janu-
ary 23, 2007.
7 U.S. Department of State, Victims of Trafficking and Violence Protection Act of 2000:
Trafficking in Persons Report (2001), University of Minnesota, Human Rights Library,
from website: http://www1.umn.edu/humanrts/usdocs/traffickingreport-2001.html,
accessed: July, 21, 2018 (emphasis added).
8 The Knesset website, accessed January 31, 2018.
9 I did not discuss new forms of male prostitution, because such an analysis requires an
entirely different setting of discussion.
10 See Leah Gruenpeter Gold (2005), Toda’a (website for the research of prostitution):
http://todaango.org.il/?page_id=56, accessed: July 21, 2018, and Gerda Lerner (1986).
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2 Women who traffic for sex,
and criminal court rulings
Hindsights and insights on the
Israeli case (2000–2013)
Gabriel Cavaglion and Smadar Noy
Introduction
Trafficking in women for the purpose of sex abuse is a global phenomenon involv-
ing hundreds of thousands of women and generating billions of dollars every year
(Castles and Miller 1993; Ehrenreich and Hochschild 2003). It is affected by three
major factors: a growing economic gap between rich and poor countries, a vast
migratory movement from impoverished to affluent countries and the power of
traditional, patriarchal gender relations and women’s subjugation (MacKinnon
2001).
Male traffickers – in their different roles as recruiters, translators, cashiers,
guardians, brokers, contractors, travel agents, transporters and procurers – take
advantage of women’s distress, poverty, unemployment and desire to emigrate
when they entice, persuade or force them into the sex industry (Farr 2005; Hughes
2000).
The purpose of this article is threefold: first, on the descriptive level, it will
outline a short critical overview of the phenomenon of women who traffic for sex
in Israel as part of a global phenomenon of migration and crime; second, on the
retrospective interpretive level, also based on academic literature, it will suggest
several factors that might contribute to explaining this crime of trafficking per-
petrated by women; and last, on the reflexive level, we will share our subjective
insights from our reading and textual analysis of the verdicts of female culprits.
This preliminary work is based on poor academic literature and on a sample of
criminal law verdicts, mostly based on plea bargains (N. 23) by Israeli courts
(mostly district courts) rendered against women accused of trafficking other
women over thirteen years (2000–2013).
We are aware that the verdicts, in particular those given after plea bargain pro-
cedures, are final and condensed outputs, following a long chain of interactions
between the criminals, the victims and the law enforcement system. These outputs
are concise and silence many issues related to the people involved, either the vic-
tims or the perpetrators. Gaining access to police information as well as analyzing
the content of protocols during the stages that preceded the plea bargaining, and
using other qualitative methods of research (e.g., retrospective interviews of the
44 Gabriel Cavaglion and Smadar Noy
culprits and a few legal actors), would have given more grounding to this prelimi-
nary research.
A critical socio-historical overview of trafficking in women

for sex in Israel
Israel has witnessed cases of trafficking for sex since the early 1990s. Its attrac-
tion for traffickers derives from the fact that even before its independence, i.e.
before 1948, Israel was a society of immigrants from all corners of the world. The
phenomena of pimping, trafficking in women and prostitution was described and
analyzed by several scholars in their socio-historical research (Alroey 2003; Bern-
stein 2008). Some forms of trafficking were found during Jewish immigration to
South America during the late nineteenth century (Alroey 2003; Avni 2009). We
also know that notorious Jewish Madams in Buenos Aires, after achieving a posi-
tion of independence and power, contributed to the dismantlement of Jewish male
organized trafficking during the 1930s (Bristow 1982; Vincent 2005). During the
early 1990s, Israel became part of a global market of legal and illegal migrant
workers (Kemp and Raijman 2008). Like many other countries, it also became a
safe harbor for male traffickers of women for sex (Amir and Amir 2004; Hammer-
man 2004; Levenkron 2007; Levenkron and Dahan 2003; Sagi 2007; Vandenberg
and Applebaum 1998; see also various articles in Hertzog and Shadmi 2013).
With the fall of the Soviet Union, many women from countries such as Rus-
sia, Ukraine and Moldova – mostly from impoverished families – were enticed
to migrate to Western countries, but also to countries in the Middle East, by the
promise of legitimate job opportunities or work in entertainment, leisure, hos-
pitality, nursing, etc. They were then smuggled into these countries, where they
were easily controlled by local criminals (Amir 1999) and forced to work in pros-
titution. Other women came as new immigrants and fell prey to the sex industry
as their only way to survive in the face of their economic predicament (Amir and
Amir 2004, 144). We cannot speak of international organized crime groups which
controlled the sex industry in Israel. It seems that it was governed by many local
criminals and mostly by sporadic small organizations of trans-national crime that
found in Israel an easy avenue to expand their business and control (for Israel see
Galeotti 2005, 55; Glenny 2008). These local or migrant criminals muscled into
the local market. Many of them had no prior criminal record or affiliation with an
identifiable organization, and no clearly defined deviant norms and values (Lev-
enkron 2007; Farr 2005, 57). Scholars also found sporadic cases of “independent”
women or “voluntary prostitutes”, women who immigrated to Israel and owing
to distress and poverty were enticed into an independent sex industry (Safran
and Chaikin 2013). The predisposition to trafficking for sex in Israel during the
last two decades (pulling factor) can be attributed to the fact that as a developed
country with an advanced market economy and relative material affluence, Israel
offered many loopholes in the legal and criminal justice system (at least before
2007), as well as a demand for cheap and exotic prostitutes in a consumeristic
market that commodifies sex (Levenkron 2007).
Women who traffic for sex, court rulings 45
Scholars have indicated additional cultural factors that may serve to explain
sex trafficking to Israel, among them a patriarchal attitude towards women and
their objectification (Triger 2009; Kamir 2007). Logistical reasons also play a
role; for example, the ease of renting apartments. All these factors, combined with
the mass migration to Israel of almost one million people from the former Soviet
Union countries beginning in the early 1990s, may explain the intolerable ease of
trafficking for sex in Israel and its prevalence. Nonetheless, as discussed ahead,
for almost a decade Israel did not take decisive action to combat this phenomenon.
The “discovery” of a social problem

It is commonly accepted and even taken for granted by law enforcement authori-
ties, civil servants and various scholars that every year from the 1990s up until
around 2006, some 1,000–3,000 women were involved in trafficking. These
women hailed mainly from the former Soviet Union countries that experienced
the collapse of economic and social institutions which accompanied the demise
of the Soviet Union (Gershuni 2004, 136; Safran and Chaikin 2013). This “Nata-
sha’s trade”1 (Hughes 2000) involved Western countries, Israel among them
(Sulaimanova 2006).
We do not know whether these figures are accurate, but we can posit that they
are based on raw estimates of law enforcement agencies. We would like to empha-
size that the definition of prostitution involves several highly emotive issues which
seem to overwhelm critical faculties (Pheterson 1996). Numbers have a tendency
to take on lives of their own, gaining acceptance through repetition, often with little
inquiry into their derivation (Best 2001). The same can be said about the figure “one
million monthly visits of male clients” to brothels, spas, massage parlors and dis-
crete apartments. This is a guess and a conjecture adopted and disseminated in legal
and academic discourse (Levenkron and Dahan 2003; Triger 2009). The conjecture
may be based on official data, projections or estimates collected from other West-
ern countries (see for example: Kappeler, Blumberg and Potter 1993, 178–179).
But “one million” is a huge number, which cannot be counted in any form.
Although trafficking to Israel began in the early 1990s, it is evident that prior to
2000, Israeli authorities denied its existence. When the criminal justice system did
acknowledge sporadic incidents, it viewed Israeli society as the main victim of both
prostitutes and traffickers (Levenkron and Dahan 2003). This was a period of “cul-
tural denial” within the law enforcement system as well (Cavaglion 2010). It is no
accident, for example, that prior to 2006, civil court rulings on compensation for car
or work injuries normalized and commodified women for sex as part of the medi-
cal or mental “rehabilitation” of handicapped or injured individuals (Triger 2009).
The years 2000–2001 marked the turning point in societal official reaction fol-
lowing two infamous reports about the prevalence of the phenomenon in Israel
and about the action or inaction of law enforcement authorities in the fight against
human trafficking. The first report was based on a survey conducted by the Israeli
League of Women (Vandenberg and Appelbaum 1998) which underscored the
extent and degree of victimization of many trafficked women forced to work as
many as 13–18 hours a day, with up to twenty clients per day, seven days a week,
while remaining for the most part penniless. The second report, published by
Amnesty International, maintained that the State of Israel “failed to take minimal
steps to prevent, investigate, prosecute or punish the people who are responsi-
ble for the violation of human rights of trafficked women” (Amnesty Interna-
tional 2000, 9). Consequently, based on these reports, the U.S. State Department
(2000) stressed that Israel failed to undertake vigorous efforts against trafficking,
especially given the occasional violent methods of traffickers and the significant
number of women who are trafficked into the country (‘U.S. trafficking in people
report 2001’). The U.S. State Department report also ranked Israel among the
third and lowest tier countries, those that did not meet the minimal standards for
combating this form of trafficking.
In the wake of the ensuing uproar and the threat of financial sanctions by the
U.S., a parliamentary inquiry committee was established, headed by the Member
of Knesset (Israeli Parliament) Zehava Galon, chairperson of the left-wing Meretz
party. Following the committee’s preliminary conclusions in 2001, the Israeli Par-
liament enacted laws against trafficking in humans in general and women in par-
ticular. The new laws prescribed harsh punishment for traffickers – up to sixteen
years’ imprisonment – and established procedures pertaining to the treatment of
arrested women. The new legislation also provided assistance to witnesses testify-
ing against their traffickers, as well as access to safe houses (a shelter was opened
in 2004), health services, the right to legal representation and other services. Fur-
ther changes to criminal laws were enacted in 2006 as part of the Prohibition of
Trafficking in Persons, Legislative Amendments Law, published in that year. This
law expanded the definition of trafficking and also established protection granted
to trafficked women, now defined as offence victims. Israel was upgraded to tier-
two status in 2006, “not yet compliant but taking great strides”, since it met the
minimal standards of combating trafficking in women and thus avoided the threat
of economic sanctions by the U.S. It was elevated to tier one status in 2012.2
There is a general consensus, mostly based on police dispatches, that since 2006
the trafficking in women from the former USSR to Israel has almost disappeared.
Social scholars have noted that social activists, non-governmental organizations
(NGOs as, for example, the Centre for Foreign Workers’ Support) and Women’s
League in Israel support groups encountered opportune conditions for massive
mobilization and cooperation as they were able to operate without any resistance
from the government or from political parties in Parliament. Legal experts and
civil servants also stressed that Israel underwent a significant change in its attitude
towards trafficking in general and towards victims of sex trafficking in particular.
Local NGO reports (Safran and Chaikin 2013) and surveys conducted in shelters
for human trafficking victims indicated a significant drop in the number of traf-
ficked women over the past decade (Hacker and Cohen 2012). Accounts of arrests
and prosecution of traffickers show that most trafficking activities were perpe-
trated before 2006 and that in these cases, law enforcement authorities and the
judiciary used a wider law enforcement arsenal to combat trafficking in women.
The causes célèbres of four Israeli traffickers, Avi Yanai (arrested in Russia in
2007 and sentenced in 2011 to eighteen years in jail), Rami Saban (arrested
in Israel in 2009 and sentenced in 2012 to eighteen years in jail), Dudi Digmi
and Guy Hassid, defined by the media in 2013 as the “largest flesh trafficker in
Europe”3 according to local media (arrested by Turkish police and extradited to
Israel in 2013, and sentenced after a plea bargain to one year of imprisonment),
were widely reported by the media beginning in October 2009. These cases also
marked a new approach towards international police cooperation which began in
2007. It is important to note that all these criminals, who were involved in large-
scale trafficking schemes, were not new or old established immigrants but rather
Israeli born, and many of their crimes were perpetrated abroad.
Disappearance or changing forms of women as victims

of sex trafficking?
We should question whether trafficking in women really decreased in light of
the fact that no studies or large-scale surveys were conducted to prove the “real
decrease” in trafficking. There were no grass-roots activities, only mobilization
and cooperation by local feminist NGOs (Safran and Chaikin 2013). Decreased
trafficking can be seen as a side effect of the war against organized crime in 2003
(Safran and Chaikin 2013), police involvement, the expulsion of illegal migrant
workers (according to Kemp and Raijman 2008) and pressure exerted by external
political and economic “moral universes” on local policy and local political com-
pliance to human rights actors, the U.S. State Department, international laws, etc.
(Hacker 2014). It was not a “bottom-up” grass-roots local moral campaign which
provoked genuine significant change due to public opinion and street mobilization.
Activists inside the Jewish religious establishment were not involved in this mobi-
lization. Based on reports of prostitutes, religious men were also among the clients.
Assuming that the new generation of “average men” did not take vows of
monogamy and chastity (Levenkron 2013), no scholars questioned where “one
million male visits each month” disappeared. Local discourse and public opinion
continue to view prostitution as a “safety valve” for men’s sexual energy. As such,
the public does not see prostitution – in particular, of foreign women – as a moral
issue or a social problem (Herzog 2008; for a general discussion, see Pateman
1988, 190). After the proposal of law which criminalized the client passed the first
instance in the Knesset (end of July 2017), the question remains: where is male
lust directed and channeled after the supposed disappearance of “pretty Russian
whores” (a police officer cited in Levenkron, 2007, 63)?
We suggest that civil servants and social activists manipulated numbers in order
to comply with U.S. and NGO accusations and divert the threat of economic sanc-
tions. The self-aggrandizement of police officers, human rights activists and politi-
cians in the battle against trafficking can also be seen as a part of desire to claim
“mission accomplished” (Sagi 2007), an “empty promise” lauding and praising the
exemplary punishment of traffickers like Rami Saban, Dudi Digmi and Avi Yanai.
It is plausible that trafficking just took on a different form. Instead of trafficking
of “Natashas”, traditional pimping increased. This can be seen as a downgrading of
prostitution as local street women (some of them single mothers or minors and/or
drug addicts) fill the void and function as cheap “safety valves” of male lust (Gur
2009; Safran and Chaikin 2013, 237; Knesset 2016). The issue of girls in distress
and lost divorced Orthodox Jewish women attracted the attention of the media.4
At the same time, we can detect forms of upgraded sex work as prostitution
takes on the subtler form of “escort services” in hotels, or “VIP girls” providing
their services in male private homes and night clubs – forms which are not detect-
able by the police (Lyman and Potter 2004, 178). Recently, a sharp increase in
prostitution reappeared after Israel lifted restrictions of visas from Eastern Euro-
pean countries Russia, Ukraine, Belarus, Moldavia, Georgia in 2017–2018.
Women who abuse other women for sex

General overview and academic research
Women who abuse other women for sex (female pimps or traffickers) do not con-
stitute a new phenomenon in human history and in different societies. In many
cases, adult women and senior prostitutes were found to be involved in recruiting
younger vulnerable women facing difficult personal, family or economic condi-
tions; for example, female recruiters and pimps during Jewish migration to South
America in the late 19th century (Alroey 2003, 76–77). In her work on East Asian
countries, Louise Brown (2001) showed that senior women in the East play an
active role in recruiting and pimping young girls in rural areas, acting as benevo-
lent proxies and procuring these girls for powerful male criminal circuits in urban
areas. Cases of women involved in the trafficking chain have also been docu-
mented by researchers in Israel (Levenkron 2007). These women fill a variety of
functions, among them entrepreneurs, counterparts of their live-in partners, moth-
ers of male pimps, recruiters, middlepersons or cashiers (Tel Aviv District Court
ruling, 1182, April 7, 2005).
Research on trafficking in women for sex is poor and does not point to a single
etiological factor (Bullough and Bullough 1996). Most studies report distress,
neglect and past victimization which occurred years before trafficking. In a survey
published by Raphael and Myers-Powell (2010), twenty-five pimps were inter-
viewed in the Chicago metropolitan area; seven of them were female. Their per-
sonal childhood histories were very difficult, and they had suffered physical abuse
and sexual assault while growing up. Over half (53%) recounted that their moth-
ers were involved in prostituting and/or pimping. Since 68% had sold their bodies
for sex prior to pimping, perhaps they can be seen as having “graduated” to pimp-
ing following their earlier involvement in the sex trade industry. The very high
incidence of traumatic backgrounds of trafficked women is supported by larger
surveys that used more sophisticated statistical procedures (Choi et al. 2009; Far-
ley 2004; Farley and Barkan 1998).
Reynolds, in the discussion about women who pimp, noted that positions in
which women dominate other women involve special roles “within the stable”,
including the main “lady” who is the prostitute with the highest status in the group
(1986, 26). As prostitutes move from one market to another, they sometimes move
up the hierarchy, particularly if they have organizational and managerial skills and
higher education (Norton-Hawk 2004). A position of power over other women
is often a result of their dependency, collusion and cooperation with their male
partners (Kennedy et al. 2007), cooperation rarely based on an egalitarian partner-
ship. For most of the women, pimping is the outgrowth of an abusive relationship
involving threats, intimidation and violence (Williamson and Cluse-Tolar 2002).
Just as pimps resemble batterers in intimate relationships, women working in
pimp-controlled prostitution can be compared to survivors of domestic violence
(Giobbe 1993). When they victimize other women, they are simply acting out
internalized abusive attitudes against themselves.
Siegel and de Blank (2010) analyzed eighty-four cases of female defendants
involved in pimping heard in Dutch courts, and found that the majority of women
functioned within male organized crime involved in trafficking in women for sex
and mostly filled positions in which they themselves were dependent on others.
In fact, fifty of the eighty-four were defined as “supporters” and twenty-five were
found to be full partners in crime. In the remaining cases, the women were “mad-
ams, who lead and plan” from a position of independence.
In her survey of female traffickers in Israel, Levenkron (2007) found thirty-four
verdicts pertaining to female defendants in the years 1999–2005, 10% of all sex
trafficking defendants during this period. She identified three main groups: those
who had themselves been prostitutes (19.3%); women who trafficked together
with their domestic partners (41.9%) and women who trafficked together with
other family members (23.5%). Levenkron notes that: “at times these groups
overlap. Such as when women who were once trafficking victims become traf-
fickers themselves, together with their domestic partners who are also traffickers
(6.4%)” (Levenkron 2007, 43). Levenkron also found three cases of women who
trafficked independently on their own (8.8%).
Our research, based mostly on the Israeli legal database Nevo, sampled twenty-
three verdicts of women accused of trafficking by district courts in the years
2000–2013. Most were established immigrants and Israeli citizens, born in the
former USSR, and about 20% were foreign citizens and illegal migrants. With
few exceptions, all their victims were women from the former USSR. Punish-
ment of all female defendants except for one was part of a plea bargain agreement
that ranged from a one-month suspended sentence (Speicher Jana, Beer Sheva
Court 2013) to seven years’ imprisonment (Ludmila Karamenko, Tel Aviv Court,
file no. 1055, 2002). Analysis of the verdicts showed varied social status in the
trafficking hierarchy: several were ex-prostitutes and therefore in a position of
dependence on others, some acted as proxies of male criminals and others held a
position closer to full partnership. In some cases, these female defendants were in
a relationship with one of the male partners. We found only one case of a woman
who worked independently, a French-born senior-age established immigrant, a
“pioneer” in this field (Angelique Sabag Gautiller).
This raw data shows that the majority of cases were brought to court as part
and parcel of a male organized trafficking chain. In many verdicts, the women
were portrayed as lacking agency or a will of their own, “activated” by their male
partners and following their instructions and orders. Their punishment was leni-
ent (less than two years imprisonment on average) in comparison to the maxi-
mum punishment stipulated in the law or to verdicts against male traffickers in
general and against their male partners in particular. Based on our sample, it is
also important to note that the Prohibition of Trafficking in Persons, Legislative
Amendments Law (2006) is mostly used against female defendants who are ille-
gal migrant workers (foreign citizenship) and not against those with Israeli citi-
zenship, despite similar allegations.
Court narratives
Since the defendant’s full story is not told in court, only sentences from the minuta
are copied and pasted (ex post factum) into judicial verdicts according to the
discursive construction of plea bargains, and since each story deserves its own
theory, any etiological theory remains beyond the scope of our research. There-
fore, we suggest a preliminary narrative analysis which, with some caveats, might
indicate a retrospective interpretation produced by the court. Based on research
and theoretical literature, we suggest that for the majority of women it is plausible
that etiology can be found in some aspects of women’s subjugation in patriarchal
society, particularly psycho-social processes within total institutions, victimiza-
tion (victim/victimizer chain of pain) and post-traumatic stress disorder.
However, since not all women were found to have prior involvement in prostitu-
tion, and since a minority acted prima facie in a position of autonomy and independ-
ence, we offer a different perspective based on routine and rational choice theories.
In fact, these two paradigms that appear in court narratives about contingent cir-
cumstances (lost women without choice vs. loose women with choice, cf. Doezema
2000) echo the traditional battle between liberal vs. radical feminist scholars regard-
ing the causes of prostitution, i.e., victims of “female sexual slavery” vs. informed
and adult women acting in a state of agency, of self-determination, self-realization
and personal choice (Leidholdt 2003, 172; see also website of Sex Workers Out-
reach Project U.S.A., www.new.swopusa.org). Perhaps this dispute about the causes
of prostitution can be settled by suggesting that the two approaches deal with two
different perspectives of contingent circumstances. This dispute can also be seen in
narratives of the local courts with respect to trafficking in women for sex.
Sad stories of lost women who traffic: total institution,

victimization and post-traumatic stress disorder
Sex trafficking and total institutions

The opportunity to become a member in the trafficking chain, or at least to be
promoted to a position of seniority with privileges among other fellow female
prostitutes, can be seen in most cases as a route to overcome conditions of impris-
onment, traumatization and victimization in the market of trafficked women for
sex. Women with a long history of prostitution can gain the trust of a male traf-
ficker and obtain a senior position that involves domination over other women
while enjoying extra benefits. In this context, these women receive a promotion
as senior inmates in the form of a total institution, and sometimes even succeed in
scaling the wall between inmates and staff in order to reduce the pains of impris-
onment (cf. Sykes 1970).
The examination of the power dynamics between trafficker and prostitute con-
ducted by Giobbe (1993) clearly illustrates how the tactics of power and control
used to recruit and keep women trapped in prostitution closely parallel those used
by batterers to ensure the compliance of their wife or intimate partner. These tac-
tics include isolation of the woman, minimization and denial of her abuse, exer-
tion of male privilege, threats and intimidation and last but not least, emotional,
sexual and physical abuse. This dynamic poses many obstacles for women who
seek to “exit prostitution”: mental health problems, psychological trauma, chronic
psychological stress, physical health problems, substance abuse, social isolation,
limited employment options, etc. (see research review in Baker, Dalla and Wil-
liamson 2010, 589–590). An avenue to escape their predicament was to upgrade
their position among the inmates inside the total institution in order to extricate
themselves from imprisonment, humiliation and powerlessness.
The second option most likely explains the case of Mariana Polkova (Beer
Sheva court, file no. 966, 2002) who was trafficked into the sex industry and was
the victim of many violent sexual attacks by clients. As she noted in court, becom-
ing a live-in partner of her captor was for her an act of self-protection and self-
interest, a desire to extricate herself from her predicament as a victimized woman.
This was also the case of Simona Baloda who, as the courts stressed, became a
female pimp (in the same brothel into which she was trafficked) because “she was
promoted in part. If she could, she would not lead this kind of life, because she is
getting no enjoyment out of it” (Tel Aviv court, file no. 1055, 2005).
Trafficking and post-traumatic stress disorder

Dependency in captivity and lack of power in a routine of unwanted sexual acts
shaped by traffickers and clients may be considered among the causes of post-
traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). A local academic survey found that 26% of
trafficked women to Israel suffer from PTSD (Cwikel, Chudakov, and Belmaker
2004). Across widely varying cultures on five continents, the traumatic and
post-traumatic consequences of prostitution are similar (Farley 2004). We can
posit that women who become perpetrators and victimizers of other women are
in a state of dissociation and desensitization (among the symptoms of PTSD).
They deal with their traumatic experience in dysfunctional ways in an attempt to
regain their agency, subjectivity and control over their life, in a form of repeti-
tion compulsion. Their extreme cruelty can be explained by the fact that women
identify with and internalize patterns of their victimizers. This may explain why
Mariana Polkova beat a woman as punishment for attempting to commit suicide
(Beer Sheva court, file no. 2183, 2002), why Ludmilla Kramenko forced a minor
to claim she was 19 years old, confiscated women’s documents and treated the
women harshly, intimidated and abused them (Tel Aviv court, file no. 1055, 2002)
and why Svetlana Tolbyeva forced a woman to continue “working” the same day
she was released from the hospital (Tel Aviv court, file no. 1169, 2004).
An extreme case of victimization, the “complicated case” of a 49-year-old
mother who procured clients for herself and her minor daughter (Jerusalem court,
file no. 8075, 2007) can be seen as part and parcel of these stories. This case
may serve as evidence that individuals with a very distressing personal history
(for example, neglected, battered or abused women) may display similar patterns
against their children (Raphael and Myers-Powell 2010). In this case, the mother
was seen as unfit to educate and transmit to her daughter accepted social norms.
All this was seen as an aggravating circumstance and as the main reason for pun-
ishment of five years in prison.
Trafficking and Stockholm syndrome

As imprisoned and traumatized objects women may develop traumatic bonding
with their victimizers. Similar to other situations of victim abuse, for example,
chronically battered spouses and hostage conditions, victims who suffer continu-
ous abuse will often seek increased contact with their attackers in an attempt to
placate them and prevent such incidents. According to the Stockholm syndrome
paradigm as it pertains to traffickers of women for sex, some may fall in love with
their male victimizer and then their partner in the organized trafficking of other
women. This may explain the proportion of women (41%, according to Leven-
kron 2007) who trafficked while involved in an intimate relationship. In almost
all the cases we examined, we found women who worked with their spouse, male
partner or live-in friend. This may explain the case of Hanna Kessler, who was
defined as a woman who “followed her husband’s instructions, fell in love with
the trafficker, was appointed by him as a receptionist in his brothel and later on
was tried for joint obstruction of justice in his case” (Supreme Court, Criminal
Appeal no. 263, 2006). Perhaps it is also the case of Yelena Yermalyev, who com-
mitted acts of trafficking with her domestic partner who for years exploited her
dependence on him, battered and threatened her (Tel Aviv court, file no. 1148,
2003). The same can be said about Yulia Shomrenko Weicherman, who became
the domestic partner of a criminal who headed a criminal group which also traf-
ficked in women and stood in for him when he was abroad. The court noted that
Yulia had been “exposed” to her partner’s activities and acted as his proxy (Jeru-
salem Court, file no. 7033, 2004).
We can suggest that recent cases of police raids in brothels in Jerusalem and
Tel Aviv discovered women in a position of “business” and partnership with other
pimps (see causes celebres in: Jerusalem, January 12, 2017; Tel Aviv, June 26,
2017). As stressed by prison officers, even if apparently female pimps act in a
position of independence, they were victimized in the past and to some extent still
manipulated by stronger male organization (Yaron 2017).
Loose women who traffick: theories of rational choice and daily
routine opportunities
There are theoretical perspectives that view trafficking for sex or procuring prosti-
tution as a result of rational choice based on free will, cost-benefit considerations,
hedonistic attitudes and maximization of pleasure. This view may explain the
fact that Siegel and de Blank (2010) found women who worked independently as
“madams who also lead and plan”, as well as Levenkron’s report (2007), which
found that almost 9% of the women defendants in sex trafficking cases worked
independently. In our survey, such cases were also exceptions to the rule.
This may be particularly true with respect to instrumental motives of crime,
which is not influenced by passion and instinctual drives (Clarke 1992). Accord-
ing to this perspective, crime depends more on the opportunities available in
everyday routine activities and in the natural ecology surrounding the individual
(Cohen and Felson 1979). It may be easier to tempt morally loose people with the
opportunity to make money with an associated low risk. As underscored by one
court ruling, “Unfortunately, as is evident from the testimony of the complainant
before us, many women take part in this business . . . they would also seem to
benefit from the large amounts of money” (Tel Aviv court, file no. 1123, 2003).
A similar attitude is seen in local reports, dispatches and investigations about
minors involved in prostitution.
While free choice may play a role in only a minority of the cases we examined,
we suggest that, based on a retrospective interpretation of court narratives, there
are women who enter trafficking in order to gain professional independence. This
may hold true in the case of Sofia Kotchick, who worked in Israel as a nurse for
thirteen years and began trafficking in women due to financial difficulties (Tel
Aviv court, file no. 247, 2007), or in the case of Noya Daniels, who was born in
Caucasian Georgia and was working in Israel as a public accountant (Tel Aviv
court, file no 1162, 2001).
Trafficking in women (compared to trafficking in weapons, drugs, stolen items,
fake designer goods, etc.) is easy, accessible and affordable, among other things
due to the low investment required and the reusable nature of the “commodity”
itself. In addition to these characteristics, its potential also stems from low risk
(Farr 2005; Hughes 2000), as well as the anonymous and affordable access to the
Internet used to recruit women (as found in the case of Mariana Polkova – Be’er
Sheva Court, file no. 966, 2002).
The case of Angelique Sabag Gautiller is very interesting for many reasons
and can be viewed as a rare and exemplary case of free choice. As a French-born
40-year-old established immigrant, she is not the typical “Natasha” (see endnote 1)
in her personality or her career.5
In fact, geographically, Angelique’s story runs counter to the conventional ele-
ments of traffickers in terms of her biographical profile and her trafficking activi-
ties. She was born in France, a Western First World country, legally immigrated
to Israel and spent several years in Las Vegas as well as Ireland, where she reaped
the benefits of prostitution to cover her debts. This biographical profile differed
from that of the typical local trafficker. Her trafficking activities involved traffick-
ing of Israeli (or old established immigrant) women abroad. In other words, she
did not import women, but rather exported them6 (Tel Aviv court, file no.1067,
2007). In her version as it appeared in the media Angelique stressed that she acted
as an entrepreneur: “It’s not like I contacted poor girls and forced them to come
and work with me, these are girls who are in this business anyway”. It is also
interesting to note that her conviction did not deter her from revealing her identity
in public or from proactively exposing her pictures in digital media, showing her
face and body. She constructed her identity and explained her behavior from a
managerial or cost-benefit financial perspective.
Some critical remarks and insights: court rulings

and reflexivity
In this last section, we will share our impressions after undertaking the analysis
of narratives reflected in local court rulings. In describing women as either loose
or lost, we feel that the courts take for granted consensual/accepted cultural nar-
ratives, apply technical legal devices and their “seal of approval” and automati-
cally translate these into verdicts and sentences. We maintain that when trafficked
women, bought and sold for sex, are on trial and appear in court, they are the most
invisible women in the world: “their silence amid public voices and their absence
among public authorities contrasts starkly with their public presence worldwide
on streets, in hotels and restaurants, brothels” (MacKinnon 2001, 1381). In our
eyes, in its technical management of cases, the judicial system becomes the last
link in the chain of subjugation of women which in many cases began decades
before, when they left distressed and disruptive homes and were recruited into sex
trafficking either as victims or as victimizers.
The courts reflect and influence the perception of women as sexual objects.
Most of these women, who were previously abducted, raped, battered and impris-
oned, do not exist in the eyes of the court as human beings with dignity and rights
but rather as “technical cases” or products and links in a chain of mass produc-
tion and distribution of commodities.7 The descriptions of these women in the
courts’ rulings are not about victims, but rather of “girls”, “hostesses”, “service
providers”, “working women”, “sexual services givers”, “recruits” and “employ-
ees”. Rational technical management of court proceedings, based mostly on plea
bargains, and the discussion about the etiology of loose or lost women camou-
flage the violent reality these women experience and tell us distorted stories of
silent objects (cf. Triger 2009, 370) and invisible strangers (cf. Lomsky-Feder and
Rapaport 2010). As stressed, the main reason of this silencing can be related to
the material examined in our research which is based on plea bargains, and not on
a more grounded content analysis of the legal course from its inception, an analy-
sis based more on interactions between adversary parties and on police or legal
protocols that preceded the final stage of the verdicts. Sometimes we can imagine
the awful stories of these women by expressions of identification and sorrow by
the judges for the victims after hearing women’s testimonies (Tel Aviv District,
file 11196, 2002). In 1999, a female judge in the Kiryat Gat District (file 001769)
stressed that she could not forget what she saw in a tape recorded account of a few
victims, but on the other hand she adopted the lenient punishment as settled by the
plea bargain. We found only a few exceptions when the plea bargain was rejected
and a more severe punishment was handed out, usually after hearing first-hand
testimony by the victim (Tel Aviv District 001038/02).
Under judicial scrutiny, as part of a very pervasive culture of consumerism, the
objectified woman who is a participant and a victim of trafficking has no name, no
identity and no soul, and her suffering has no voice. The courts, as part of the modern
industry, obscure the fact that these women are human beings by eradicating their
identity, erasing their sense of self and any belief that they are entitled to dignity and
bodily integrity (Leidholdt 2003, 172). Plea bargains, the ordinary modus operandi
in court rulings in cases of women who traffick other women (and men traffickers,
as well) are proof of this objectification of women (Triger 2009) and of the de-
contextualization of their personal stories, as both victims and as victimizers. The
deportation of illegal residents involved in prostitution, and the denial of entry for
those who are suspected to be “fake tourists”, make women as invisible strangers.
Plea bargains, managerial routines and banalization of suffering

While plea bargains save the overloaded legal system time and money, the fact
that so many bargains are struck in cases of trafficking in women reinforces the
impression that the prosecuting authorities and the judicial system do not treat
these cases seriously. On the one hand, on the declarative level, the crime of traf-
ficking is condemned by all courts. In many verdicts, judges repeat and dissemi-
nate time and again statements made by Supreme Court judges condemning the
phenomenon. These statements are mostly cited when they want to stress that
trafficking is “one of the most heinous and loathsome crimes” (Mishael Heshin,
Supreme Court, file 7542, 2000).
Rhetoric aside, the adoption of plea bargains and the light sentences seem indic-
ative of a lenient attitude. As we can see, in the vast majority of cases of women
defendants involved in trafficking the height of absurdity is that judges tend to
endorse plea bargains while expressing their amazement at the lenient sentences.
Moreover, the rule is that judges “should not interfere with plea bargains” (Naza-
reth District, file 001175, year 2002 or Tel Aviv District, file 1182, year 2002, and
Tel Aviv District, file 1029, year 2001). As visitors in organized tours, educators,
police officers, judges and politicians inspect the scene and express their sorrow
and shame. But in their professional involvement, they de facto do not translate
their moral attitude into action: they behave as bystanders without any moral obli-
gation (Manderson 1992). The tragic stories of the suffering victims, sometimes
nameless and identified as just girls, escort girls or masseurs, are mostly silenced.
We rarely know their face, age, country of origin, date of arrival in Israel (Haifa
Court, file 000212, year 2001) or specific details about their abuse (Tel Aviv Court,
file no. 1085, Year 2003). Similarly to other scholars, we can suggest that the use
of digital media can become an good avenue to offer a platform for their voice.
A critical conclusion
Reading the court verdicts of women who trafficked in sex is akin to reading
texts markedly less concerned with responsibility, fault, moral sensibility, diag-
nosis, intervention and treatment of the individual offender (Feeley and Simon
1992). We can detect a more managerial approach to the legal process rather than
a transformative stance or outlook that considers the future of the victims and the
perpetrators (this is termed as consequentialism according to criminologists; see
Hudson 1996). We can identify systematic rationality, efficiency and coordina-
tion. We cannot identify in the verdicts any reference to substantive social ends.
The same techniques “that can be used to improve the circulation of baggage to
airports or delivery of food to troops can be used to improve the penal system’s
efficiency” (Feeley and Simon 1992, 467).
This attitude of managerial modern penology is reminiscent of Max Weber’s
concept of the “iron cage”, the result of bureaucratization of the social order
(1947). The iron cage of the judicial system traps individuals in systems based
purely on efficiency, rational calculation and control – a technically ordered,
rigid, dehumanized system. Judicial rulings in Israel are forms of bureaucratiza-
tion based on precision, speed, unambiguity, continuity, uniformity, reduction of
friction, and saving time and material costs. Women who were circulated in the
organized sex industry are now treated as docket items within the law enforce-
ment system.
In his seminal work, sociologist Zygmunt Bauman (1989) stressed that Nazis
during the Holocaust did not see causal connections between their actions and
mass murder. Little moral opprobrium was attached to the natural human procliv-
ity to avoid worrying more than necessary and thus to abstain from examining
the whole length of the causal chain up to its farthest link. As Bauman stressed,
with most of the socially significant actions mediated by a long chain of com-
plex causal and functional dependencies, moral dilemmas recede from sight while
the occasions for more scrutiny and conscious moral choice become increasingly
rare. In the law enforcement system many units of objects without dignity are
treated and marked carefully on the manager’s production charts. And in our case
of courts and plea bargains, judges adopt a relatively minor position and attitude
in a great globalized machine of human trafficking when they transform women
into objects or commodities, passive property without autonomy, women whose
suffering remains outside the walls of the courts.
As said in another research, we do not have to visit Treblinka. The red light dis-
tricts of Bangkok can leave the same sensation of the de-humanization of human
beings in the flesh market (Cavaglion 2016).
Notes
1 The popular and colloquial stereotyped term of “Natasha” refers to women trafficked for
sex from former USSR states (see Hughes 2000).
2 See for example: www.state.gov/j/tip/rls/tiprpt/2012/index.htm, accessed: July 21, 2018.
3 https://www.haaretz.co.il/magazine/1.1929693,
4 www.bhol.co.il/forums/topic.asp?cat_id=4&topic_id=3141630&forum_id=771
5 www.tabletmag.com/jewish-news-and-politics/118725/exporting-israeli-prostitutes/2
6 www.haaretz.co.il/misc/1.1347481, accessed: July 21, 2018.
7 For the concept of objectification of women in the law enforcement system, see Nuss-
baum 1999; for Israel, see Kamir 2007.
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3 [Trade in] women and the
Israel police
An irresolvable tension?
Erella Shadmi
The Israel Police, an institution that lately and rapidly has begun to play a central
role in the Israeli political arena, was constructed according to the British colonial
model of policing operating in Mandatory Palestine. This model – known from
British-controlled Ireland and India, as well – was designed to serve the crown
and the state, and to control a religiously, ethnically and nationally divided soci-
ety (Enloe 1980; Shadmi 1998). It is a belligerent and combative version of the
friendlier London model of policing. The London model, consolidated about two
hundred years ago with the rise of the nation-state (Bayley 1975), was designed
mainly to protect and serve economic and political elites against what were then
called “the dangerous classes” (Silver 1967). Issues of gender and sex relations
were not, at least not explicitly, taken into consideration when these models of
policing were developed. Today, police officers and leadership perceive these
models as gender-neutral; that is, as providing equal services to all and following
universal criteria of legality and justice.
When, however, policing is analyzed from women’s perspectives (as well as
the perspectives of other oppressed groups), its problematics are revealed. In this
article, I wish to develop a feminist critique of contemporary policing in Israel.
I will try to confront policing from a perspective of traded women’s experiences
and women in prostitution in particular, but also other women, and thus unmask
the manner in which policing is not only gender-biased, but, in fact, works against
women’s advantage. I will, therefore, argue that only a comprehensive restructur-
ing of policing may lead to true protection of and service to women.
In November 1997, the Israel Women’s Network, a women’s political lobby,
issued a report on “Smuggling of women to Israel and coerced prostitution.” This
report put the issue of trade in women on the public agenda. Since then and in dif-
ferent contexts, Members of Knesset (the Israeli Parliament), feminist and other
social change groups have called on the Israel Police to protect and save the traded
women. Although the police established a special unit to investigate such crimes
and legislation that prohibits trade in humans has been passed, it seems that the
police have not done enough in this matter for almost two decades.
The police have claimed, among other things, that the elimination of prostitu-
tion might be dangerous as men’s needs will not be met,1 some of the women
choose to become prostitutes, that the women refuse to cooperate with the police,
62 Erella Shadmi
that police capability is limited by the law, that it is difficult to act against the
men involved, that the problem is not only a police problem and that a coordi-
nated systematic effort is necessary (Nardi and Ami 2001; Sedbon 2001). Up to
a decade before that, the police raised exactly the same arguments (the women
refuse to file complaints or withdraw their complaints after filing them, that more
legislation is needed, that a coordinated systematic effort is necessary and that
it is difficult to act against men [the Karp Report 1989]). The only difference is
that then, 10–20 years earlier, the police raised these arguments in regard to male
violence against their spouses. Since then, the police have indeed significantly
altered their policy regarding male violence against spouses, but only after fifteen
years of feminist struggle and despite the fact that the police have known for
years about the prevalence of wife beating and police mishandling of such cases
(on the basis of a study the police themselves conducted [Karp Report 1989]).
Moreover, from women’s testimonies, it seems that the current police handling
of male violence against spouses is far from satisfactory (Shadmi 2003, 2012a);
70% of police files opened against men for domestic violence (attacks, threats,
murder and attempted murder towards their wives) during the years 2013–2017
were closed for lack of evidence. Moreover, the police fail to prevent repeated
domestic violence (Yaron 2018). We can add to this that close to 90% of women
(compared to a little more than 60% of men) feel unsafe in the streets (Kertzer-
Tzameret et al. 2017). In the last decade, police sexual harassment of both female
police officers (a phenomenon the police are well aware of since 2000; Israel
Police Behavioral Sciences Department 2000) and female demonstrators (Coali-
tion of Women for Peace 2013) has likewise been revealed and publically dis-
cussed – but not necessarily dealt with seriously: Cases of women’s complaints
of officers’ abuse, sexual harassment and violence opened by the Department for
Investigation of Police Officers were closed, although still criticized severely by
the Supreme Court (Druker 2018). Also, despite the 1998 Supreme Court decision
that stipulated better mechanisms to recruit and promote female police officers,
the current data show that 25% of police personnel and 28% of commissioned
officers are women, although too many of them are in administrative roles (Israel
Police 2017). Indeed, the number of female police officers increased in the time
since the Supreme Court decision, yet it seems rather slowly and too cautiously
implemented, as if the Israel Police still do not trust women.
In all these cases, the police avoided dealing with male violence against women and
discrimination against female police officers for a relatively long period of time. This
avoidance has been eliminated or restricted at a certain point in time – often under
local and international pressure. So was the case with the trade in women two decades
ago: Feminist outcry was not enough; something more influential was needed:
[T]he first U.S. State Department Report on Trafficking in Persons, issued in

2001, which categorized Israel in the lowest rank as a country that does not
comply with minimal standards and is not taking substantive steps to do so,
shocked the country and brought trafficking into the national spotlight.
Gershuni (2004)
[Trade in] women and the Israel police 63
This report, accompanied by a U.S. threat detrimental to financial aid, finally
prompted a change in police handling of trade in women.
Nevertheless, the extent of this change is questionable: Just a few years after
that, at a conference on trade in women that took place in May 2005 in Jerusa-
lem, the then head of the Police Headquarters Investigation Department entirely
denied the existence of trade in Israeli women for prostitution abroad. Her posi-
tion contradicted evidence regarding trade in Israeli women presented at the same
conference by a known feminist activist. It further became apparent that the police
themselves admitted in a meeting of a Knesset committee that such cases are
indeed known to the police, though their number, so they claim, is low.
In a similar vein, in the Eilat Police District – where the supposedly community-
sensitive anti-crime program “City with No Violence” was first introduced and
examined to be later implemented throughout police stations – two feminist
activists found that prostitution in so-called massage parlors was prevalent, but
the police, well aware of it, did not seem to view it as an issue at all (Steinberg
2007).
Nomi Levenkron, a well-known activist on behalf of women in prostitution,
expressed her frustration in a letter to the Ministry of Home Security (December
28, 2010) about the official authorities’ neglect of the many complaints regarding
police handling of cases of prostitution. The letter is kept in the editors’ archives.
She gives a long list of misconduct by the police, including police violence against
the women and photographing them on private cellphones during raids on private
homes, arrest of the women who had not committed any crime according to Israeli
law, humiliating and invasive body searches looking for drugs, non-enforcement
of crimes committed against these women by pimps and other men, and so forth.
On a television program on Channel 10 (May 25, 2018), a known pimp named
Papa tells of a group of police officers coming together to the brothels to party and
have sex with the women. He called it protection money.
In a like case, regarding sexual harassment by senior police commanders of
female police officers, the police have not dealt with this well-known phenom-
enon. Only after a powerful outcry of women activists following the complaints
of brave women, and the accusations of more than a few senior police command-
ers, did the police established the Office of Gender Equality to deal with women’s
discrimination in the force and male violence against them.2
In all cases, not only do the police deflect criticism of similar claims, but the
spread of the phenomenon and public demand for rigorous police action find the
police unprepared. It seems that the police also stand unprepared to deal with
the growing public sensitivity to, and perhaps the magnitude of, phenomena such
as sexual harassment in and exclusion of women from the public sphere, stalking
and crimes against women through the Internet. In other words, police conduct
in cases of male violence against women follows the same pattern each time the
issue is raised: It begins with denial and ignorance, and continues with rejecting
the criticism by putting the blame on the women, the insufficient legislation and
other public agencies; later comes a gradual and slow policy change, attempting
to satisfy and gain the trust of the public and some of the women’s organizations.
64 Erella Shadmi
The final result is always the same: Male violence against women is not properly
handled and even proliferates in new directions. The police, nevertheless, feel
content with the changes already made.
Apparently, nothing is new under the sun: A hundred years ago, when trade in
women was as prevalent as it is today, police forces behaved in a similar manner
(Las 1996, 28). This police conduct nowadays, however, seems surprising in light
of the legal situation: Prostitution is not legally forbidden in Israel as long as it
is carried out in the public sphere and not in homes, and as long as soliciting and
pimping are not conducted (Amir 2000).3 This legal situation provides the police
the excuse to refrain from saving women in prostitution and accords it the power
to act, instead, as a mechanism of social control regulating the relations among
prostitutes, pimps and clients. Trafficking in women, however, is carried out in
homes and involves rape of and trade in women, thus breaching several laws. The
police, therefore, have the authority to fight this kind of prostitution, and I mean
from their own perspective. Indeed, the police do understand their responsibility
and do expand their practices and mechanisms to deal with this and other cases of
male violence against women – but too often they lag behind the developments,
do not sufficiently take the women’s needs into consideration, repeatedly refrain
from bringing men to justice and ignore the demands of women’s organizations.
The question, therefore, is: why?

I wish to suggest that the similarity between police responses to different cases
of male violence against women – in fact, the pattern of neglect of women’s vic-
timization that characterizes the Israel Police – is not coincidental. This similarity
exposes the almost unresolvable tension, perhaps conflict, between women and
the police: It is the tension between a masculinist, male-controlled organization
and female experience, between male power and female victimization, between
the public sphere where the police function, and the private domain where many
women are held, between universalistic principles, obliging the police, and par-
ticularistic demands stemming from women’s experiences.
What I am suggesting, then, is that the way the police force has been structured
inevitably leads to its disregard or, at least, insufficient treatment, of male vio-
lence against women.
Let me briefly explain how the main features of policing led me to this conclu-
sion: Patrol is the central strategy employed by the Israel Police, like many other
Western police forces, for carrying out the police duties of crime prevention, order
maintenance and community services. Police officers openly patrol, on foot and in
cars, streets and other public locations. The assumption behind this system is that
their mere presence, visibility and accessibility would prevent crimes and facili-
tate provision of services to citizens and communities. Alongside patrol officers,
some detectives and patrol special units – more militaristic and aggressive in char-
acter – may deal with crime prevention and order maintenance functions.
The heavy reliance on the patrol units carries operational and political implica-
tions: The police function mainly in the public sphere. Most of police personnel
is not directed at and is not skilled in dealing with crimes conducted behind walls
such as white collar crimes; corruption and bribery; drug and sex crimes; youth
violence; violence against women, children, the elderly and the physically and
mentally disabled; and, of course, trade in women.
Police capability to handle such crimes is further limited due to the ethos of
strict protection of the private sphere and individual freedoms (except against
opposition such as Palestinians and leftists in Israel whose rights are growingly
breached by the police and other security forces). Our society adheres to this
ethos, despite the fact that it facilitates covering up some of the most dreadful
and brutal crimes. The police further claim that it adheres to gender, ethnic and
national neutrality. I doubt it.
As a result of this structural feature, the police easily act against workers who
burn tires on the roads but not against managers who exploit and cheat them;
against street criminality, of which the young, the poor and the Black (Pales-
tinian, Jewish Ethiopian, African and Mizrahi) make up the majority, but much
less against white collar criminality, of which bankers, government officials and
businesspeople make up the majority. The police are thus structured to act against
oppressed, disadvantaged groups and to serve hegemonic groups, including men
and the wealthy.
This police inclination has been further strengthened since the 1990s, when
the Israel Police underwent far-reaching changes (Shadmi 2012b): Policing ter-
ror became the highest priority of all police units. SWAT teams – mobile, task-
oriented, ready to act, quick to apply aggressive policing and militaristic tactics –
occupy a central place in the new police. These include, for example, Border
Police cruisers and Special Patrol Units. The proportion of units functioning in the
public domain has dramatically increased. Police violence against nonprivileged
groups (Palestinians, Mizrahi, poor, labor immigrants, demonstrators, political
opposition and so forth) has increased. Efficiency, rather than criminal justice, has
become the main police target. Even the doctrine of community policing, which
looks at first like a sincere attempt to provide better police services to the general
public, is actually no more than a marketing ploy and a strategy to enhance police
capability to protect hegemonic groups challenged by multiculturalism (Shadmi
2004, 2010, 2012b). Finally, more and more police functions have been privat-
ized – transferred to the community, especially to private guards; consequently,
police service to poor and powerless groups is diminishing.
The police sub-culture serves as a central mechanism to educate police officers,
who by and large are not reckoned as elites, to accord clear priority to hegem-
onic groups and to act forcefully against deprived social groups. This sub-culture
emphasizes, among other things, authoritarianism, militarism, lies and untruthful-
ness, machoism, sexism and racism.4 When non-Jewish women are involved, as
in the case of trade in women, police apparently care less. Sexism and chauvinism
go hand in hand.
To sum up this point, patrol as the main strategy, the ethos of “my home – my
castle,” the changes since the 1990s and the police sub-culture are the main struc-
tural features of the Israel Police which lead me to this glum conclusion: The
66 Erella Shadmi
police are neither capable of, nor interested in, dealing with trade in women. It
is hard to expect any serious police action against trade in women (if police are
meant to protect the public at all; see Pepinsky 2006, 160–162).
Nevertheless, police intervention is necessary if we want to fight against trade
in women: Since the police have the monopoly over the legal use of coercion
(even under current processes of privatization and especially for those who resist
police privatization), trade in women cannot be defeated without police action.
Thus, we, as feminists and social activists, face a paradox: On one hand, the police
are incapable of and uninterested in dealing with it; on the other, the police are
currently the central legal mechanism for dealing with it.
The police force faces a somewhat similar dilemma: It is not structured to deal
with violence against women, yet it is under social pressure to use its power to pro-
tect and save these women. When the police faced similar conflicting pressures –
as, for example, was the case with male violence against their spouses – they
reacted by appropriating, together with other agencies, the phenomenon (through
policy making, establishing investigative units and police training) and using and
abusing it to acquire resources and prestige. In so doing, the Israel Police received
the approval of traditional women’s organizations, but confined the handling of
the problem to its symptoms rather than dealing with its instigators.
In the same way, one can expect that with growing public pressure, the police
will make some policy changes regarding the handling of cases of trade in
women and prostitution. The Israel Police has indeed changed its policy towards
trade in women, and the flow of women to prostitution in Israel has been cut off
to a large extent (Shadmi 2003). I think, however, that such changes are no more
than small comfort and do not touch upon the roots of the problem. This is the
reason the police avoid dealing with women in prostitution, reject claims of trade
in Israeli women, avoid the issue of sexual harassment of female police officers
and female demonstrators by male officers, and other cases of male violence
against women.
Theoretically, the police have another option. The police, adhering strongly to
a machoistic, rigorous, in fact heroic cowboy image, can use its power to save the
victims, as men love to do in Western movies and romantic novels. The traded
women and women in prostitution are perhaps the ultimate female victims: Their
lives have been reduced to their sexual organs and they have become fully objecti-
fied. The police machismo may find here ample space to exhibit heroism.
But the police – modern cowboys – refuse to save these women, since both
cowboys and police save only properly behaved women. In their refusal, both
symbolically demonstrate the proper social order. The police’s symbolic power
is regularly employed to give concrete expression to abstract values such as
equality and state sovereignty and to illustrate the range of their application. For
example, in patrolling peripheral regions, especially occupied territories, mani-
festing the state’s monopoly on the right to use coercive force there, the police
mark the state-controlled territory and the reach or limit of the state’s authority.
To give another illustration, in their differential treatment of people (according,
for example, to their race, ethnicity, class, gender and nationality), the police
mark the socially privileged and nonprivileged, as well as the socially acceptable
and the outcast. In the same vein, in refusing to protect women in prostitution,
the police use their symbolic power to mark these women as permissible to men
and to legitimize male violence against them. The police are thus a central mech-
anism used to preserve male domination and traditional female sexuality, that
which is contingent on men’s needs, control and definition. Through extending
better protection to men than to women, the police symbolize the social privileg-
ing of men over women. Through extending some protection to some women
and depriving others of the same protection, the police draw the line between
the sacred woman and the harlot. Moreover, with no formal authority and legis-
lation, the police, on behalf of the state, institutionalize prostitution as they do
male violence; that is, the police allow it to occur and signify the arrangements
under which it is socially acceptable. The police content themselves with the
function of guiding the trafficking in women, as Esther Eilam, one of the most
innovative Israeli feminist thinkers, puts it: “For example, in cases of wife beat-
ing the police send the aggressor to jail for a few days, without taking respon-
sibility for the woman’s fate” (Eilam 1999). The police discourse, furthermore,
normalizes prostitution: We will never eliminate prostitution, says Yossi Sedbon,
former head of Tel Aviv Police District. Prostitution serves the sexual needs of
foreign laborers, he adds, obliquely cautioning us that if their sexual needs are
not met, they might put “decent” – that is, Jewish middle class – women in dan-
ger (Sedbon 2001).
The police thus mark the range of social legitimation for violence against
women – the same way they mark the border lines between majority and minority,
between hegemony and marginality, domination and oppression, as we witnessed
in October 2000 when police bullets killed thirteen Palestinian citizens of Israel
protesting against their oppression (Shadmi 2001a), and in many current demon-
strations of Israeli Palestinians – not mentioning non-Israeli Palestinians.
I, therefore, suggest that the structural arrangements of contemporary policing
and its symbolic functions make the possibility of effective police action against
male violence doubtful. It seems that only a reconstruction of policing in accord-
ance with women’s needs may bring about a kind of policing capable of combat-
ing male violence. It should be emphasized that a new kind of policing is needed
for the benefit of other oppressed groups.
Furthermore, the same way policing was reconstructed about two hundred years
ago at the dawn of the industrial and nation-state era, the shift to the age of infor-
mation, globalization, multiculturalism and feminism obliges us to reconstruct
our way of policing. Women’s experiences and perspectives not only disclose this
obligation but also are necessary to shape the form and determine the principles
of 21st-century policing. The direction policing takes today – combative, bel-
ligerent, authoritarian, divisive (Leishman, Loveday and Savage 2000; Shadmi
2001a, 2012b) – neither responds to the needs of women and other oppressed
groups, nor is structured according to their perspectives.5 Therefore, I doubt that
the Israel Police will respond efficiently and quickly to the current increase in
trade in women in Israel.6
68 Erella Shadmi
Notes
1 I heard this claim several times over the years. The last time was on May 17, 2018, on a
Channel 10 special broadcast, from a well-known journalist citing police commissioned
officers.
2 A personal note: In 1986, when I was a senior police officer, I took on myself – despite
other female senior police officers’ opposition, but with the support of some male senior
officers and one female senior officer – the responsibility for gender equality. It took me
only a short time to understand that this assignment was no more than lip service, and
the police did not expect me to do it seriously. I therefore refused to fullfil it after a short
period.
3 See also http://todaango.org.il/?page_id=270, accessed: May 16, 2018.
4 Attempts to transform the police sub-culture have all failed.
5 The space is too short to present the deep changes needed in Western law enforcement.
I presented a detailed proposal in Shadmi (2012b), influenced by Pepinsky (2006) and
other scholars.
6 As revealed in a Channel 10 TV program on May 24, 2018.
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Levenkron, Nomi (2010). A letter to the Ministry of Home Security regarding: Police Poli-
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sites/default/files/Police.docx, accessed: October 26, 2018).
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A0%D7%92%D7%A2-%D7%94%D7%A4%D7%95%D7%A8%D
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in R. R. Friedman (ed.), Crime and criminal justice in Israel: Assessing the knowledge
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———. 2001a. Municipal police in Israel: A historical necessity on the road to new polic-
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———. 2001b. Why police killing of 13 Israeli Palestinians isn’t surprising: The iron fist
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———. (2004). Community policing in Israel: A strategically transformation or politics?
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Part II
Women in prostitution
4 Prostitution and the white-
slave trade in Palestine at
the beginning of the
twentieth century
Gur Alroey
Introduction
Between the years 1904 and 1914, about 35,000 people arrived in Palestine, open-
ing a new period in the country which was called the “Second Aliya.” Accord-
ing to Zionist historiography, the new immigrants who had just recently arrived
wanted to adopt a lifestyle that would be totally different from what they had
experienced in Eastern Europe. Workers’ parties were instituted, the first Hebrew
city was built and new settlements were established in the Lower Galilee. The
struggle began over the “conquest” of labor and guarding the settlements, Hebrew
gradually became the national language, and the return to the land and its cultiva-
tion heralded the change that was about to come in the lives of the Jews in Pal-
estine. The historiography naturally laid stress on the national-ideological world
outlook of the newcomers and gave tribute to their work in the small and develop-
ing Jewish Yishuv of the early twentieth century.
However, among those entering the country in those years was a fairly broad
group of immigrants who settled in the large cities of Palestine and continued to
engage in their old trades in the new country, spoke Yiddish among themselves
and were light years away from Zionist ideology. These were migrants in every
sense of the word, who were no different from the Jews who had migrated to
America during those very same years and settled in New York, Boston and Bue-
nos Aires. Since Zionist ideology was not the main factor in going to Palestine,
this group has disappeared from the pages of history as if it had never existed,
and the story of their arrival in the country and their settling in it was never told.
Together with it, certain social phenomena which were an inseparable part of
the Yishuv in Palestine also vanished from historiography. The most conspicuous
among them was the white-slave trade in women conducted in early twentieth-
century Palestine.
This article is an attempt to trace the root causes of this phenomenon and to
place it within the wider historical context. I intend to demonstrate that in Pal-
estine, the white-slave trade in women was an integral part of the global traf-
ficking in women during that period, and that it is not possible to understand the
phenomenon as detached from the realities of Jewish life in Eastern Europe and
from the mass migration of peoples that began in the second half of the nineteenth
74 Gur Alroey
century which ended with the outbreak of the First World War. This article will
therefore be divided into two parts. The first part will attempt to understand the
causes for the phenomenon, its characteristics and methods of luring women from
the moment they meet the pimp and until they arrive – against their will – to the
brothels. The second part will focus on the Palestine context of the phenomenon.
Jewish migration and trafficking in women

Between the years 1875 and 1914, about two and a half million Jews from Eastern
Europe migrated to countries across the ocean. This was an unprecedented migra-
tion of a scope that dramatically changed the nature of Jewish society. New Jew-
ish centers began to rise up in the countries of destination, and recent arrivals were
absorbed with relative speed into the surrounding society. Many of them ascended
the socio-economic ladder and upgraded their status immeasurably in the new
country. One of the outstanding characteristics of Jewish migration was its fam-
ily orientation. Unlike the European migrants who came alone, Jewish migrants
brought their families with them in order to settle permanently and to set down
roots. Since the process of transition to the new country was a long and expensive
one which involved more than a few dangers, at the first stage it was the head of
the family who migrated, and the other family members joined him only after he
had made the necessary preparations. The social implications of this transition in
stages to the new country were fateful for Jewish society. The prolonged separa-
tion between the head of the family and the other members of it, and the migration
of these young men to countries beyond the seas, upset the demographic balance
of Jewish migration in the countries of origin and created very easy conditions for
a flourishing trade in women and prostitution.
Trying to examine the link between prostitution and migration, one will most
probably find that this usually develops in countries in which a large number of
migrants have arrived. There are a number of causes for the interdependence of
migration and prostitution. First, the process of migration often undermines the
close-knit and intimate family structure which is difficult to maintain within a
normal and familiar lifestyle in the new country. Second, the number of single
male migrants is higher than the number of women migrants. Many of the men
arrive in the new country in order to earn money and to return to their countries,
or as with the Jews, in order to send money home and bring their families to join
them. The ratio between the men and women is upset and tends to a great extent in
favor of the men, so that it imposes heavy mental pressure on the migrant. Even-
tually, the crowded conditions of the migrants, which suppresses sexual activity
between husband and wife, leads to the search for alternative means of gaining
sexual satisfaction.
In order to meet the increasing demand for prostitution, the white-slave trade
in women began to develop at the end of the nineteenth and the beginning of the
twentieth century. This trade was not only typical for Jewish society. Russians,
Poles, Hungarians and other nationalities also engaged in it.1
Prostitution, white-slave trade in Palestine 75
But statistics show that the proportion of Jewish traders engaged in this field
was higher in many cases than that of non-Jewish traders. From the official data
that was published on the national affiliation of the pimps, it appears that among
the 124 Russians who were sentenced or were suspected of trafficking in women,
104 of them (84%) were Jews; among the 93 migrants who entered South Amer-
ica and were known to the police as traffickers of women, 80 of them (86%) were
Jews; among the 101 Hungarian traffickers of women who were arrested, 68 of
them (67%) were Jews. In Galicia, the situation was far worse. Among the 39
traffickers of women who were arrested for this crime, 38 of them (97%) were
Jews. Only in Germany was the number of Jews engaged in trafficking in women
fairly small. Out of 182 German traffickers in women, 19 traders (about 10%)
were Jews.2 According to a survey conducted in 1909 in the United States, 225 of
581 migrant prostitutes who were sentenced in a quick trial were Jewish women.3
Although this figure does not indicate the range of trafficking in women, it cer-
tainly shows that the involvement of Jews in the sex trade during the migration
period was extensive.
Trafficking in women was a very ramified business and much more complicated
than other kinds of fraudulent activities that were rife in Jewish society of Eastern
Europe. The main aspect of this trade was the sale of young girls against their will
and knowledge to the highest bidder, whether to brothels in the large cities across
the seas or to a trafficker in women who was prepared to pay a higher price for the
“living merchandise.” Among the traffickers of women were those who dealt with
luring the girls, while others took care of issuing the false documents required for
their transit to other countries, dealing with organized border crossing, bribing of
authorities and escorting the women to their destination. The work of luring was
the most complex and problematic task of all, since from the moment that the girl
was tempted and deteriorated into prostitution, all the other arrangements were
technical and could be managed without much difficulty. The level of shrewd craft-
iness in the seducers was very high in locating the vulnerable spot in the girls and
suiting the type of temptation to the character of the girl and her family. Sometimes
the main effort was aimed at the parents of the girl, in order to gain their trust, and a
secondary effort at the girl herself. In many cases, mental abuse preceded physical
exploitation which increased the dependency of the girl on her seducer.
The methods used by the traffickers of women were varied, and they took into
account different kinds of expected scenarios and complications that were liable
to occur. They were prepared to meet any possibility in almost anticipating in
advance the behavior and actions of the victim. From the historical sources, it
appears that these traffickers of women lured the girls in two main ways. This
was done through procurers who offered the poor girls work in the big city, and
through handsome young men who played the part of lovers, or as written in
contemporary newspapers: “The body snatchers used several kinds of duplicity
for their purpose. They offered the young girls a variety of jobs as servants, craft
work apprentices, and actresses, and some came to them as marriage brokers or
as lovers.”4
76 Gur Alroey
The first method of seduction was usually meant for poor girls of the lower
class, as the woman procurer pretended to act like an “adopting mother” who
wanted to help the girl, and after gaining her trust she sold her, without her knowl-
edge, to the trafficker in women. This process took place in many cases after
the transfer of impoverished girls from the poor and destitute villages of Eastern
Europe to the big cities. The first people they encountered were the cart drivers
who waited for them at the train stations. Since the girl did not know where to go
and to whom to apply for work, the cart driver offered the home of an “adopting
mother” who was really a pimp in all respects. The first meeting with her left the
village girl with a positive impression. She received her with a kind face, gave
her food, provided her with a place to live until she found work, and soon gained
her trust.5
The young girl, who had no acquaintances in the city except for the pimp,
treated the charming woman like an adopting mother and trusted her. At this stage,
after it was clear that the girl was convinced, trusted her and depended on her,
she began to introduce her to a young man whose outward appearance gave the
impression of a decent and honest person. During the first few weeks of their
acquaintance, he showered her with compliments, entertained her in places that in
her narrow world of a provincial village she never thought she would ever visit.6
He spent a lot of money on her, gained her trust, and captured her heart. At a time
he found to be the right one, the young man slowly began to change his pattern
of behavior, to introduce her to his dubious friends, and to take her to unsuitable
places of entertainment, in one of which she would probably find her place. If the
girl refused to cooperate, she was exposed to systematic acts of violence in which
they struck, humiliated, and even brutally raped her. Sometimes, if one of the girls
managed to escape from the trap laid for her, she had no choice except to return
to the home of the pimp. The girls, some of whom were already pregnant, again
put their trust in the woman procurer who helped them to get an abortion in good
time, or if they were too late, supported them at minimal cost until the birth, and
afterwards hired them out as wet nurses.7 In other cases, the procurers found the
girls in market places or in port cities, without the help of cart drivers. According
to reports, they spoke to them “sweetly and gently” and promised them “castles
in the air, places of work in offices and in the homes of the wealthy,” and the girls
who were usually “penniless, frightened, humiliated, pale and thin” were the first
to fall into their hands.8 Occasionally, work was found for the girl in brothels
which were disguised as restaurants or inns (and in current terminology, escort
institutes):
In all the large cities in Europe, houses of this kind have spread out widely
which are merely houses of shame covered by a polite veil. . . . These houses
are supplied with “merchandise” by agents who serve . . . in every European
city. They gather into their houses innocent girls who come from the village
to seek work in the city . . . slowly, slowly these servants become entangled
in debt with agents until they are pushed into the abyss, into the tavern where
they sink down into ruin.9
Another system used by traffickers of women was through agencies that sent the
girls to a foreign city with the promise that their representative would wait for
them at the railway station and take them to a secure work place. In fact, the
stranger who met the girl took her unknowingly to a local brothel from which she
found it difficult to escape. From historical sources, it appears that already dur-
ing the first evening meal, the girl received “a drink with a sleeping pill” and was
raped. After feeling ashamed of her carelessness for what had happened to her,
and not wanting this to be revealed, the owners of the brothel repeated this treat-
ment of her over and over again.10
For most of the girls who fell victim to pimps, this was their first encounter
with the city. The sense of loneliness and helplessness they felt, together with the
cultural shock caused by the transition from village to city, made it easier for the
traffickers of women. Without much difficulty, they managed at first to create an
emotional dependency and then also a financial one, and then began very crudely
to take advantage of the innocence of the girls. The relationship created with the
experienced “adopting mother” who is so knowledgeable about life in the turbu-
lent and frightening city generates unreserved trust in her by the girl. In this way,
it was possible to introduce her to dubious men, to send her to brothels without
her knowing about it, and to take advantage of her body in the most abasing and
cynical manner.
The second method of seduction was usually intended for girls from well-
established families of the middle to high class, and centered on the figure of the
“lover” who spent much effort and money to win the faith and trust of her parents,
married her, and finally brought her to the brothel where he worked. The trafficker
in women usually came to the towns in Eastern Europe in the guise of a business-
man who wanted to marry one of the local girls and to take her to her new home
abroad. According to the descriptions, these traffickers of women were handsome
young men who made a great impression and aroused fascinated interest when
they arrived in the town. Their modern clothing, their hair style and the money
they scattered in the town made many people believe that this was a successful
young man who had improved his situation and raised his status through migra-
tion. The connection with the girls of the town was very often made not through
them but through their parents, who desired a rich son-in-law who could rescue
their daughter (and even them) from a life of poverty in the town. This was the
local version of a Cinderella story in which the prince wants to save the poor girl
and offer her a life of royalty across the seas.
In fact, the end was gloomy, and in instead of the promised happiness and
wealth, the girl found herself a sex slave in the brothels of New York or Bue-
nos Aires. In booklets that were published by various associations which fought
against trafficking in women, there are many cases that describe the pattern of
action by the rich son-in-law. In one of them which was issued in Lvov in 1904,
the author mentioned the case of a trafficker in women who deceived 95 girls in
this way.11
Besides the fictive weddings, there were “lovers” who searched in railway sta-
tions and border cities for girls who had migrated alone. Since Russian law did not
78 Gur Alroey
allow women to obtain a passport legally, they were forced to cross the border in
illegal ways. By doing so, they exposed themselves to various dangers, including
traffickers of women, who exploited their situation of dependency so as to entrap
them into their nets. The moment these traffickers noticed a girl traveling alone,
they kept close to her and began harassing her. As soon as the first contact was
made and the girl began to answer their questions, the traffickers of women under-
stood what her weak points were and managed to gain her trust. They often fright-
ened the girl with fearful stories about the border and described how migrant girls
were raped by the soldiers patrolling along the border, or drowned in the river
while crossing the border. The girl who was afraid of the same fate was persuaded
to join the agents and to stay with them at one of the hostels near the border.12
The number of women who lapsed into prostitution in this way and fell vic-
tim to the traps of the traffickers of women was fairly large. Many girls found
themselves crossing the ocean only to satisfy, unwillingly, the desires of hundreds
of thousands of migrants far from their homes and families. The scope of this
phenomenon reached such proportions that Jewish society could not avoid set-
ting out in force against these Jewish slave-traders and the brothels which were
opened abroad. In 1887, the Jewish Association for Protecting Girls and Women
was founded with the aim of doing battle with this phenomenon. Every year, this
association published a report which opened with the words: “I will seek that
which was lost, and bring back that which was driven away, and will bind up the
broken and strengthen the sick” (Ezekiel 34: 16). This report detailed the activities
of the association and noted the number of cases that came to its knowledge and
were treated. Besides this, a committee assembled every year to discuss various
ways to eliminate the phenomenon. In 1910, for example, a committee meeting
was held in London with the participation of representatives from several Jewish
organizations which fought against this phenomenon. “One hundred and twenty
delegates came to the meeting from various countries: England, Germany, Russia,
France, Hungary, America.” . . . Besides these, representatives of the Zionists, the
ICA, ITO, and the Hilfsverein der Deutschen Juden took part in the meeting.13
These committees, as well as the various associations that were set up, achieved
considerable success and often managed to bring pimps to trial and send them to
prison:
In Vienna, two traders in girls were caught, one of them was Wolff Golden-
berger, born in Warsaw, and the other as Herman Borsky, also from Russia.
Borsky is the owner of a brothel in Buenos Aires, and is already known to the
Viennese police as a trader in girls. He has traveled to Europe many times,
especially to Galicia, for this business and Goldenberger was his procurer.14
In another newspaper, it was reported that: “Akiva Meir Wilberreich – 41 years

old, was condemned to two and half years of hard labor, Moritz Wallerstein,
28 years old – to two years.”15 But besides the successes, there were many fail-
ures and frustrations at the spread of the phenomenon and at the small number of
girls they managed to rescue. Bertha Pappenheim,16 one of the stubborn fighters
against trafficking in women, defines the struggle as a Sisyphean task. Many girls
were traded and disappeared in the brothels around the world, including those in
Palestine.
Prostitution and trafficking in women in Palestine at the

beginning of the twentieth century
Palestine, in this matter, was no different from other migration countries around
the world. In contrast with the accepted image of a pioneer, ideological and moral
society, a society of migrants was created in Palestine that was similar in its char-
acteristics to the migrant societies in the United States and Argentina. The attempt
to examine the distribution of those entering the country shows that a high propor-
tion of women and children also arrived in Palestine, and that the migration was
conducted in stages. At first, the head of the family arrived, and only after he had
prepared an economic basis did he bring over his family. In addition, the recently
arrived migrants came to the cities rather than the villages, and most of them
chose to settle in the Jewish quarters of Jaffa and later in Tel Aviv. This situation
of thousands of migrants concentrated in the port city was a convenient one for
the flourishing of prostitution and trafficking in women.
Prostitution, of course, was not a new phenomenon. It also existed in Palestine
earlier, but immigration brought with it prostitutes of a new kind – ones of Ashke-
nazi origin – which had been uncommon:
Prostitution, as we know, is not an alien growth in the East in general and in

the Arab world in particular. Ten measures of prostitution were given to the
world, and the East took nine! And it is no secret that there is not a single
brothel in Syria and Palestine where you will not find a significant number of
Jewesses. But our Ashkenazi sisters were not to be found in this muck; they
were not to be found there at all, or only once in a blue moon.17
Jaffa was the main gate of entry into Palestine. As in all ports – which are visited
every month by many ships with thousands of sailors far from their homes – there
were also brothels. Prostitution flourished in Jaffa during the period of immigra-
tion to Palestine, but many of the writers and editors of the newspapers of the
period tended not to mention the phenomenon and perhaps even tried to cover it
up. Zeev Smilansky, for example, wrote a long article entitled “The Jewish com-
munity in Jaffa” which was published in the newspaper Ha-Omer in 1907, and did
not mention the phenomenon at all. The matter was dropped from the article either
due to the censorship of the editor or else to the personal censorship of the writer
himself. Whatever the case, in the manuscript of the article in Smilansky’s private
archive, he spoke clearly about the phenomenon:
We have to point out, that together with the new waves of Jewish immigra-
tion that are washing over Jaffa, a fair amount of dirt and filth has also been
swept in. A few have opened taverns in which people sin and get drunk, and
80 Gur Alroey
we should hide our faces in shame that the new Jews engage in such occupa-
tions. And not only that, but licentiousness is spreading among the new Jews.
Among the hoteliers there are some who are pimps who provide prostitu-
tion for their guests. They often get their “live merchandise” from the new
immigrants, and how dreadful it is that a Jew who has fled from a country of
persecution should sell his daughters into shame! Because of these pimps and
whores we are disgraced in the eyes of the other inhabitants of the town.18
The trade in prostitution began to flourish in Jaffa with the arrival of the immi-
grants. The pimps, who understood the economic potential of this activity, began
to set up brothels that served both the Jewish and non-Jewish populations, and the
crews of the ships that came into the port. The Jewish community found it hard
to accept this new “trade,” and the arguments put forward against the spread of
brothels were based not only on a moral condemnation of the phenomenon but
also on a fear of “what people will say” – in other words, of a lowering of the
status of the Jews in the eyes of the Arabs, who unlike the Europeans were not
tolerant of houses of prostitution:
One of the most depressing sights in this country are the houses of prostitu-
tion continually being opened by people whom others to our misfortune call
Jews because they have not yet left the Jewish community. This does terrible
harm to our country. While in Europe certain things are considered important
and the public shows acceptance in matters of vice and prostitution, the Arab
with his strange tradition concerning modesty is like an innocent babe in
comparison with European attitudes.19
Thus, their real fear was that the Arabs would be unable to distinguish between
Jewish prostitutes and ordinary Jewish women, and that they would consequently
regard both of them as immoral. “They regard all the ‘Muscovite’ women as cheap
and promiscuous,” and so behave toward them with a “sexual vulgarity that they
would never dare to do in the case of Sephardi women and, still less, of German
or English Christian women.”20
The newspaper Hed-HaZman, writing from an Eastern European point of view,
said that Jewish prostitution in Palestine was an eastern European import and was dis-
tinguished by the shamelessness of the pimps and prostitutes going about in the town:
Every week, more and more brothels are opened in our country, especially
in the coastal city, Jaffa. And if this “business” continues to develop in this
way, it is likely that the Jews will become the leaders in this trade in our coun-
try. . . . But already today, our enemies here are beginning to single us out
with regard to this business. They disregard the Arab and Greek backstreets
devoted to these “houses” and point, like European anti-Semites, only at the
“houses” belonging to the Jews. But one must tell the truth: the Jewish pros-
titution, which has brought with it European ways, is brazen and flagrant and
consequently stands out.21
The Arab and Greek women, on the other hand, said the newspaper, “confine their
activities to their rooms, and when they go about in the market, they are veiled
like decent women.”22
Many complaints about the spread of brothels and the moral degradation it
brought to the town were made to Kook, the rabbi of Jaffa. The petitioners asked
the rabbi to root out the phenomenon, which they believed brought shame to
the Jewish community. Among the people who lived there were even some who
placed the blame on him, claiming that he did not take sufficient interest in mat-
ters relating to the community and that he was “over-spiritual.”23 The rabbi replied
that he knew that “traders in women were becoming increasingly common in our
town,” and he “had begun several times to make some attempt to repair [the situa-
tion], but I must honestly admit that to my great regret I had little success.”24 In a
port, brothels were a social necessity. Sailors who spent weeks at sea, immigrants
far from their families and simply bachelors – all these sought relief for their
desires, and when there is a demand, there is always someone who will supply
what is needed. The rabbi of Jaffa was powerless to oppose this phenomenon.
Those who were able to fight it were the Ottoman authorities, which some-
times turned a blind eye to it and sometimes closed the brothels and expelled the
prostitutes and their employers from the town: “The Russian Jews who came to
our town to open brothels and trade in souls have been expelled this week by the
authorities. Thanks are due to the admirable folk who have done this, for it has
removed a great disgrace to our people.”25 And in another place, it was written that
the authorities had closed:
brothels, and all the Arab women involved in this business have been sent
away. And we now have to make an effort to expel the women of our people
who do this so that we shall not be an object of scorn and calumny among
our neighbors.26
Many of the brothels were opened by Jewish immigrants who had settled in the
town. The clients were sailors and local people, and the question remained: Who
were the prostitutes? Where did they come from, and how did they get there?
The Jewish prostitutes – the “Ashkenazis” – came from Eastern Europe, and
were generally supplied to the brothels by white-slave traders who had enticed
them by deceitful means. This was the fate of many girls in the Pale of Settle-
ment,27 but instead of going to the United States or Argentina, the great centers of
the white-slave trade at that period, there were some who came to Palestine. The
trafficking in Jewish women in Palestine was a stage in the white-slave trading
route that began in Odessa, continued in Constantinople and ended in Alexandria,
Port Said and Jaffa. Sarah Azaryahu relates in her book of memoirs Pirkei Haim
that in sailing with her sister, who was ill, from Palestine to Russia, she stopped
on the way in Constantinople. On the quayside of the port, she met a young man
who presented himself as a guide and offered them his help in purchasing sailing
tickets to Odessa and in dealing with their passports at the Russian consulate. In
their wanderings around the city, the three of them passed a tall building, and the
guide let out, “Here I could have sold you!” Azaryahu relates, “I had an inner
82 Gur Alroey
shock on hearing the tone in which he said these words, but outwardly I tried to
preserve my composure.”28 Brakha Habas, in her biography of David Ben Gurion,
also describes his encounter with white-slave traders who were with him on the
ship on the way to Palestine. In the course of the journey, the passengers noticed
that the white-slave traders were bringing a Jewish girl to Constantinople, held
her passport, and did not allow her to mix with the other passengers. Ben Gurion,
together with other passengers, went to the captain and succeeded in preventing
her from being taken off the ship at Constantinople and rescued her from the
clutches of the white-slave traders.29 These two examples show how dangerous
for girls the journey to Palestine was and how far it was from the romantic aura of
return to the land of the forefathers.
Moreover, the traders sometimes realized that if they came to one of the shtetls30
in the Pale of Settlement and said they wanted to marry a woman and take her to
America or Buenos Aires, it would immediately arouse suspicions. This was not
the case, however, if they said they wanted to take their “wife” to Palestine. The
pimps assumed that the girl’s family would not suspect that a trade in women was
developing in Palestine and even gaining momentum. Here, the Zionist ideology
was exploited for the purposes of their scheme. A young, handsome slave-trader
would go to one of the many shtetls in the Pale of Settlement and begin to court
one of the girls in the shtetl. He would shower her with money and jewels and cap-
ture her heart and that of her parents. After a time, when he was convinced the girl
was in love with him, he proposed to her marriage and a luxurious life in a coun-
try overseas. If he said he intended to take his fiancée to Argentina or the United
States, it would give rise to suspicions and people would begin to ask questions,
but not if he told the girl he intended to go to Palestine. The accepted image of the
country was one of piety and asceticism on the one hand and pioneering Zionist
activity on the other. By means of the Zionist ideology, the youth persuaded the
girl to join him on a “Zionist journey” to Palestine, where she would finally be
sold to one of the houses of prostitution in Jaffa or at one of the stops on the way:
Constantinople, Alexandria or Port Said. As we read in the newspaper Ha-Zman
This trade, if it is allowed to develop, will have a glorious future in Palestine.

A young trader arrives in a town in Russia or Galicia and begins to look for a
match among the girls of the place, but he puts himself in danger if he dares
to tell his “fiancée” or her parents that he is about to travel to Argentina or
to some large maritime city. But this does not apply to Palestine. Palestine is
believed in the Diaspora to be all piety, asceticism and Judaism. And every-
one knows that today Palestine is also attractive to the younger generation.
Who could object to such a journey? In whom would such a journey arouse
suspicions?31
Another operational strategy of the slave traders was to spot girls among the
immigrants already on their way to Palestine. A pimp would arrive in Odessa –
the principal port of departure for Palestine – and would put up at one of the lodg-
ing houses that received travelers sailing to the country. He usually introduced
himself as a farmer from Palestine with a property in Petah-Tikvah or Rishon-le-
Zion, and after gaining the confidence of the travelers who were interested in
hearing about the country or who simply wanted news of their relatives, he tried
to gain the confidence of one of the girls and to entice her to come to Palestine
with him on his own passport. In this way, he said, she would be saved unneces-
sary expenses. The unsuspecting girl usually did not see through this “Zionist”
pretense and agreed to go along with him. In Zidlitz’s lodging house in Odessa
(where all the less well-to-do immigrants to Palestine put up), there was a farmer
from Petah-Tikvah who said wonderful things about Palestine and its inhabitants,
helped the travelers and gave them advice on what to do on the journey, etc., and
casually proposed to take one of the girls on his passport.
But “when they got to Palestine, these people learnt that it was all nonsense,
and the farmer from Petah-Tikvah” was revealed as an impostor.32 Constantinople
was also a destination where white-slave traders lay in wait for female immigrants
who were traveling alone and who left the ship in order to make an excursion into
the city or in order to get their tazkra.33 The girls who were enticed were sold to
brothels, and only if relatives located them, or if they succeeded in escaping from
their place of imprisonment, was the Russian consul able to help them:
The Society for the Protection of Women in Odessa received word from
the Russian consul in Constantinople that a young woman of twenty-two
wanted help in returning to Odessa. Three and a half months ago the young
woman was on her way to Jaffa to a female relative who promised to find
her work, but when the ship docked at Constantinople, a young man called
Rizhnikov enticed her to get off at Constantinople and have a look at the
city. There he sold her to a house of prostitution. The Russian consul took
an interest in the young woman’s situation, and on his orders Rizhnikov and
his associate in the white-slave trade, Aharon Rozenkrein, were immedi-
ately arrested, and the two “traders” were sent to Odessa where they were
brought to justice.34
The trade in women in Jaffa was practiced openly, like any other business in the
town. “A band of white-slave traders,” wrote the newspaper Ha-Herut, “which is
led by a man from Jaffa, and which to our great shame is composed entirely of
Jews, one of whom receives haluqa [charitable funds sent from Jews abroad], has
existed in our town for some time.” The pimps rented an apartment near the shore
and practiced “their disreputable trade quite openly in the sight of everyone with-
out any shame.” The writer of the article, who signed with the letter X, expressed
shock at the indifference and lack of interest shown by the Yishuv:
If we continue to take our distance and watch all this coldly and with indif-
ference as we have done until now, how will it all end? Where is the recently
founded organization with the impressive title “The Society for the Protec-
tion of Women in Jaffa,” and why is it sleeping? Why is it taking its afternoon
nap when it has such enormous opportunities for action?35
84 Gur Alroey
The pimps not only imported women into Palestine but also exported them
overseas:
But there is an even more depressing fact: there are signs that our country is
becoming a center for white slave trading in general. Many new faces have
appeared in Jaffa (and, to a lesser degree, in Haifa and Jerusalem). These peo-
ple frequent lodging houses and taverns a great deal; they are to be found on
the seafront and on the ships, and they engage in a con-stant exchange of cor-
respondence with people abroad. The more young and handsome ones have
begun to match themselves up with the poor girls of the country. Last month,
there were two occurrences, one an import and the other an export. . . . If
we do not find a way of immediately eradicating this evil, Palestine will
enter into competition with the great centers of prostitution in the world and
become a sort of Buenos Aires. There are two sides to the picture: on the one
hand Palestine can provide plenty of raw material for other countries because
of the poverty of its inhabitants, and on the other hand these filthy people can
find their “booty” abroad more easily if they are helped by Palestine.36
With the spread of the phenomenon in Palestine, the Society for the Protection of
Women began to watch what was happening in the country. In May 1911, Frau
Bertha Pappenheim visited Palestine. “On the termination of the Sabbath, Frau
Pappenheim from Vienna spoke at the Beit HaSefarim about the white-slave traf-
fic. The hall was full. She spoke for about half an hour, and gave a somber descrip-
tion of this shameful traffic.”37
Bertha Pappenheim (1859–1936) was a feminist social worker of German-Jewish
origin and founder of the Alliance of Jewish Women, which fought against the
white-slave trade. In her lectures and writings, Pappenheim stressed the causal
connection between poverty and prostitution, as well as the basic connection
between prostitution and the social and religious oppression of women.38 Her
arrival in Palestine and her lecture on the subject are evidence of the growth of
the phenomenon in Palestine. Her feminist approach to the white-slave traffic was
adopted by labor circles in the country. It is likely that representatives of the news-
paper Ha-Ahdut were present at her lecture, and a week later an article appeared
in the paper entitled “The white-slave trade in our country,” which adopted Frau
Pappenheim’s feminist approach:
So long as the status of women in the home, in society, and in the work-place
is a low one, so long as fathers see their daughters as ne’er-do-wells and
deprive them of education and the national spiritual inheritance . . . the Jew-
ish woman in the land of national rebirth will be ensnared by the white-slave
traders. . . . Only national schools and a broad and comprehensive moral and
social education of girls while they are still young . . . only the massive par-
ticipation of women in the aspirations of the people, in its social creativity in
the present and future, can rescue the Jewish woman and our Jewish society
from the white-slave trade.39
During her journey, Pappenheim kept a diary which was published under the title
Le Travail de Sisyphe, in which she referred to prostitution and the white-slave
trade. This is a very interesting source, written from the viewpoint of a woman
who had fought adamantly against traffickers of women. In her book, Pappenheim
recalled her memories of the Middle East in general and Palestine in particular.
During her visit to Tiberias on May 9, 1911, for example, she noted in her diary
that Jewish prostitution received clients in private homes and that the illegitimate
children born there were disposed of in one way or another. “Everything is done
secretly,” Pappenheim wrote. “The concept of shame and morality is as strong as
everywhere else.”40 In “little” Jaffa, she records that there are three brothels which
employ about 40 girls.41 In her meeting with the German consul in Egypt, it was
reported to her that among the traffickers of women in the region there were also
Italians and Greeks, and that Arab boys and girls were being traded without any-
one to care about them. On her lecture in Jaffa concerning trafficking in women,
she wrote:
The meeting yesterday [the lecture] went very well. I realized once again how
necessary it is to be in free control over the subject. During the first debate it
was decided to hold a committee meeting behind closed doors because at the
first meeting eight days ago certain people were present who were suspected
of being involved in women trafficking. When I arrived at the place [of the
lecture] there was a large porch opposite a courtyard in which I found 200
people [sitting] in the darkness with table lamps. After I noted the situation
I declared that I would not discuss the means for the struggle . . . but restricted
myself to giving a sermon which was well received.42
The visit of Pappenheim in Palestine and Egypt shows that the Jewish Yishuv
was not spared the trafficking in women, and it seems it reached troubling dimen-
sions. For this reason, she chose not to speak in public about the means used for
the struggle against traffickers of women, in order not to expose the methods of
action to the traders. Although the extent of the trade was not similar to that of the
United States or Argentina, yet it should be remembered that the Jewish Yishuv
was much smaller and the number of migrants who arrived in Palestine was far
less in comparison with those arriving in America, by any measure.
Conclusion
The attempt to trace the course of prostitution and trafficking in women in Pales-
tine shows that alongside the pioneer society in the country, there existed a society
of migrants that did not differ in its characteristics from that which was formed
in America. The majority of migrants who had recently come to Palestine settled
in the large cities, mainly in Jaffa, and continued in their old style of life in the
new country. Since most of them were far away from their families, they sought
easily accessible sexual satisfaction for themselves, and found it among the local
prostitutes. However, as the scope of migration to Palestine became larger, it was
86 Gur Alroey
clear that the local supply would not be capable of meeting the rising demand,
and it was necessary to import girls from Eastern Europe. The Yishuv society in
Palestine dealt very little in this phenomenon. We have in hand very few primary
sources that relate directly to trafficking in women in Palestine. The local press
reported it very sparingly, and in the various archives, no files have so far been
found that concerns the struggle against traffickers of women and the dimensions
of this phenomenon in the country. Eastern European newspapers, on the other
hand, dealt extensively on it both in the general connection and in connection with
Palestine, although it should be noted that we do not have even one document that
tells us, from the viewpoint of the girls themselves, how they conducted their lives
and their daily routines, and what eventually happened to them.
Nevertheless, from the sources we have in hand that deal with this phenom-
enon, we can learn not only about the actual existence of trafficking in women and
its scope, but also on the working methods of the traffickers. It seems that most
of them belonged to many-branched and intricate networks, with the trafficker in
women sometimes just the last link in the chain. The moment the girl was caught in
the trap laid for her, the chances for escaping were slim. Rape, imprisonment in the
brothels and the turning of girls into sex slaves was part of their daily routine. Since
their passports were confiscated, they became objects that could be traded and the
means for bargaining and making profit. From what is described in the newspapers
of that time and from the annual reports of the associations for the protection of
women, heart-rending stories can be told of women who found themselves, against
their will, satisfying the desires of migrants and traffickers of women.
The white-slave trade in Palestine only came to an end when the trade as a
whole came to an end. The closing of the sea routes, new socio-economic condi-
tions in the country and in the world at large, and the immigrants’ integration into
their new countries finally led to the end of the phenomenon, except in Argentina.
But with the renewal of the waves of immigration to the State of Israel at the end
of the twentieth century, it was renewed in all its ugliness and cruelty.
Notes
1 On the white-slave trade in women among the various nationalities, especially the
French, see Albert Londres (1928).
2 “Froyen handel un di emigratsye [white-slave trade in women and migration],” Der
Jüdische Emigrant 3, no. 23 (February 1913): 102.
3 Reports of the Immigration Commission, 61st Congress, doc. No. 748, 3rd session,
Emigration Conditions in Europe, 1911, 62.
4 “Body Trafficking,” Hed Ha-zman, 13 (October 1911): 3.
5 See Z. Zamacher, Der froyen Handel [Women Trafficking] (Warsaw, 1914), 3–6.
6 Z. Zamacher, Der froyen Handel, 3–6.
7 Z. Zamacher, Der froyen Handel, 6.
8 “Froyen handel un di emigratsye,” 7.
9 “Body trafficking,” 3.
10 “Miteylungen dem faraynem tsum shutse yiddisher froyen und medchen” [Notice of
the Association for the Protection of Jewish Women and Girls], (Lvov 1904), 9.
11 “Miteylungen dem faraynem,” 13.
12 “Froyen handel un di emigratsye.”
13 “The Jewish confederation in London for the war against trading in living persons,”
Hed Ha-zman, 75 (Spring 1910): 3; The article is continued in Hed Ha-zman, no. 76
(Spring 1910): 3.
14 “Trading in Girls,” Hashkafa, 88 (Summer 1909): 4–5.
15 Galmud, “Trial of Women Traffickers,” Hed Ha-zman, 166 (July 1910): 2.
16 On Pappenheim, see: Marion Kaplan, The Jewish Feminist Movement in Germany
(London: Greenwood Press, 1979), 29–57; 103–145.
17 “Letter From Palestine,” Hed Ha-zman, 50 (August 1909): 2.
18 Zeev Smilansky’s archive, The Pinhas Lavon Institute for Labor Movement Research,
IV-104–95, file 10, Tel Aviv, Israel.
19 Libertus, “Me-hodesh le-hodesh,” Ha-Me’ir (April 1912): 138.
20 Libertus, “Me-hodesh le-hodesh,” 138.
21 Haroe, “Me-eretz Israel,” Hed Ha-zman, 114 (June 1911): 1.
22 Haroe, “Me-eretz Israel,” 1.
23 Ben Avraham, “Jaffo,” Ha-herut, 25 (October 1911): 3.
24 Ben Avraham, “Jaffo,” 3.
25 M. Kremer, “Ha-shavu’a,” Ha-herut, 23 (August 1909): 3.
26 Ben Avraham, “Jaffo,” Ha-herut, 100 (June 1911): 2.
27 Territories of the Russian Empire in which Jews were permitted permanent settlement,
between 1791–1917.
28 Sarah Azaryahu, Pirkei Ha’im, 30–31.
29 Bracha Habas, David Ben Gurion and his generation, 60.
30 Small towns with large Jewish population, which existed in Central and Eastern
Europe until the midst of the 20th Century
31 Haroe, “Me-eretz Israel,” Hed Ha-zman, 114 (June 1911): 1.
32 Ha-Roeh, “Me-eretz Israel,” 1.
33 The tazkara was a document submitted to the Ottoman authorities by every Jew arriv-
ing in Palestine.
34 “Hadashot be-Isra’el,” Ha-herut, 14 (November 1911): 3.
35 X, “Al devar miskhar be-nefashot be-yafo,” Ha-Herut, 150 (September 1911): 3.
36 Haroe, “Me-eretz Israel,” 1.
37 Ben Avraham, “Jaffo,” Ha-herut 4 (May 1911): 2. On Pappenheim’s voyage to the
East and her talk in Beit Ha-Am in Jaffa, see also: “Der kampf gegen frauen hendel
be-eretz isra’el,” Unzer Leben, 135, (June 1911): 3. On the growth of the phenomenon
in the country, see Raffi Thon, The struggle for equal rights for women: The life story
of Sarah Thon (1996), 33; understood the expression “foreign traffickers” used by his
mother as referring to tourists who visited the country, causing prostitution to flourish.
This expression in fact refers to white-slave traders, and one may presume that his
mother was referring to the white-slave traffic that was prevalent at that time in the
country.
38 On Pappenheim, see Marion Kaplan (1979, 29–57, 103–145).
39 “Ha-mishar be-nashim be-artzenu,” Ha-Ahdut, 28–29 (May 1911): 4.
40 Bertha Pappenheim and Jacques Legrand, Le Travail de Sisyphe (Paris: Des femmes,
1986), 180.
41 Pappenheim and Legrand, Le Travail, 195.
42 Pappenheim and Legrand, Le Travail, 193.
References
Azaryahu, Sarah. 1957. Life chapters. Tel Aviv: Am-Oved (in Hebrew).
Habas, Bracha. 1952. David Ben Gurion and his generation. Tel Aviv: Am-Oved (in Hebrew).
Kaplan, Marion. 1979. The Jewish feminist movement in Germany. London: Greenwood
Press.
88 Gur Alroey
Londres, Albert. 1928. The road to Buenos Ayres. New York: Blue Ribbon Books.
Pappenheim, Bertha, and Jacques Legrand. 1986. Le Travail de Sisyphe. Paris: Des femmes.
Thon, Raffi. 1996. The struggle for equal rights for women: The life story of Sarah Thon.
Unknown city: Private publisher (in Hebrew).
Newspapers and journals

Ben Avraham. 1911. Jaffo. Ha-herut, 4 (May): 2.
———. 1911. Jaffo. Ha-herut, 100 (June): 2.
———. 1911. Jaffo. Ha-herut, 25 (October): 3.
Galmud. 1910. Trial of women traffickers. Hed Ha-zman, 166 (July): 2.
Haroe. 1911. Me-eretz Israel. Hed Ha-zman, 114 (June): 1.
Smilansky, Zeev. The Pinhas Lavon Institute for Labor Movement Research, IV-104–95,
file 10, Tel Aviv, Israel.
Kremer, M. 1909. Ha-shavu’a. Ha-herut, 23 (August): 3.
Libertus. 1912. Me-hodesh le-hodesh. Ha-Me’ir (April): 138.
Zamacher, Z. 1914. Der froyen Handel [Women Trafficking]. Warsaw.
X. 1911. Al devar miskhar be-nefashot be-yafo. Ha-herut, 150 (September): 3.
1904. “Miteylungen dem faraynem tsum shutse yiddisher froyen und medchen [Notice of
the Association for the Protection of Jewish Women and Girls].” Lvov.
1909. Letter From Palestine. Hed Ha-zman, 50 (August): 2.
1909. Trading in Girls. Hashkafa, 88 (Summer) : 4–5.
1910. The Jewish confederation in London for the war against trading in living persons.
Hed Ha-zman, 75 (Spring): 3.
1910. The Jewish confederation in London for the war against trading in living persons.
Hed Ha-zman, 76 (Spring): 3.
1911. Body trafficking. Hed Hazeman, 13 (October): 3.
1911. Der kampf gegen frauen hendel be-eretz isra’el. Unzer Leben, 135 (June): 3.
1911. Hadashot be-Isra’el. Ha-herut, 14 (November): 3.
1911. Ha-mishar be-nashim be-artzenu. Ha-Ahdut, 28–29 (May): 4.
1911. Reports of the Immigration Commission, 61st Congress. Doc. No. 748, 3rd session,
Emigration Conditions in Europe: 62.
1913. Froyen handel un di emigratsye [white-slave trade in women and migration. Der
Jüdische Emigrant, 3(23) (February): 102.
5 Cycles of voiceless silence
and silencing1
Niveen Rizkalla
Israel contains a huge social and religious diversity of women in prostitution.

Some are Israeli-Jewish, some are Palestinians, and some come from countries
such as Belarus, Eritrea, Ethiopia, Russia, and Ukraine. Some women came as
immigrants to Israel during the 1990s, some were trafficked, and some ended
up in prostitution as the result of alcohol and drug abuse or economic crises
(Rabinovich 2013). Nonetheless, both research and clinical work, in Israel as
elsewhere, suggest that the majority of these women suffered from sexual abuse
during childhood, a situation gradually deteriorating into prostitution (Cwikel,
Ilan and Chudakov 2003; Gur 2004; Gur 2008; Silbert and Pines 1983). In addi-
tion, women in prostitution are considered a marginalized group facing social
rejection, stereotypes, and stigma due to public lack of knowledge or awareness
about their situation (Heller 2003; Hubbard 2004).
Debates on the issues of choice (consent) and free will, legalization, and the
consumerist approach (i.e., purchasing) to women in prostitution are ongo-
ing in many countries (Agustin 2007; Erlich 2005; O’Connell Davidson 2006;
Rimalt 2011). Yet, in all these debates, the voices of the women themselves are
barely heard or understood (Bjønness 2012; Hubbard 2004; Sullivan 2007).
In this article, I will begin to give voice to the unheard women in prostitution.
Because the traumatic consequences affecting these women are similar emotion-
ally, physically, and socially (Cwikel, Ilan and Chudakov 2003; Seligman 2004;
Somer 2004), I treat prostitution not only as a form of violence against women
(Gruenpeter-Gold and Harel-Shemesh 2010; Miller 1995), but also as rape.
I argue that a circular model of multidimensional factors contributes to the
maintenance of prostitution as a contemporary social phenomenon. I further argue
that these factors and systems interact together in overt and covert processes that
keep prostitution in the darkness of silence, forcing women in prostitution either
directly or indirectly into violent cycles of voiceless silence.
This article focuses on women (including teenagers) in prostitution in the streets
and in sex parlors, all of whom I encountered during my position as the director
of the Mobile Clinic Treating Women in Prostitution, Haifa District Health Office,
Israel,2 2011–2013. Most of the analyses and arguments are based on fieldwork
involving prostitution-related personnel and agencies in Haifa and northern Israel:
the women in prostitution, their customers, their partners/pimps, the professional
90 Niveen Rizkalla
helpers working with them, and associated educational, social, and political agen-
cies. I argue that these systems interact in a chaotic deaf-blind way that sustains
both the violence against women in prostitution and the silence around their
situation. I will also argue that silence in its passivity is violent, as it sustains the
aggression aimed at women in prostitution (Bilsky 2000). My starting point is that
prostitution is a form of rape, not work made out of free will, in which women
are trapped by psychological models that were imprinted on them in childhood
(Farley, Baral, Kiremire and Sezgin 1998; Silbert and Pines 1983).
Women in prostitution
A wide literature suggests that most women in prostitution have experienced sex-
ual abuse, especially incest, during their childhood or adolescence (Cwikel, Ilan
and Chudakov 2003; Gur 2004, 2008; Silbert and Pines 1983). The dynamics
of sexual abuse and prostitution are strongly connected with internalized shame,
guilt, low self-esteem, self-harm, secrets, and silence (Coy 2009; Seligman 2004)
with those suffering from these symptoms portrayed mostly as victims.
The Mobile Clinic is a van that tours at night, providing services such as STD
tests, hepatitis vaccines, gynecological examinations, social and medical coun-
seling, free medications, and emotional support from staff members. The staff
is composed of professionals, including a gynecologist, nurses, social workers,
a “social guide” (i.e., a survivor of prostitution), a driver, and non-professional
volunteers. The staff identifies the women from internet websites, initiates con-
tact with them, and offers them the clinic’s services. Outreach occurs at night, at
times and places most convenient for the women. Most women keep their “night
work” secret and therefore prefer to meet the staff outside of the sex parlors or
in the streets. This special outreach frequently puts the staff in a position of wait-
ing until the women finish with the sexual consumer and can meet with the staff
inside the clinic van.
In the initial encounters with the staff, women in prostitution rarely expose
their traumatic sexual experiences from the past. Instead, they often use defense
mechanisms such as suspicion, mistrust, detachment, numbness, or dissociation
(Somer 2004). They appear to prefer to remain objects, and they treat the staff
as such. Perhaps not to awaken the demons of the past or present, they can also
behave in an instrumental manner. As one woman explained, “I am like a robot.
It’s a tool that helps me continue with my work for the rest of the night.” Others
will use drugs and alcohol to numb their pain (Gur 2008) so that they can tolerate
the continual rapes.
Breaking any silence around traumatic experiences would be challenging and
extremely painful, especially when they are still regularly experiencing trauma
(Gur 2004). In some cases, facing suppressed pain can force women in prostitu-
tion to return to the sex parlors with weakened defense mechanisms, making them
even more vulnerable to the sexual invasions of their customers. As one woman
said to the staff, “It’s so good to talk to you, I feel relieved. But then it makes me
Cycles of voiceless silence and silencing 91
feel weaker, and it’s harder to go back to work and see customers. I feel like run-
ning home to see my kids.”
With time, and only when they gain more trust in the staff, the women begin to
initiate the meetings and voluntarily share their horror stories. Again, however,
this exposure can jeopardize their vulnerable, naked souls when they go back “to
work.” The moments of revealing the stories behind the Barbie-plastic appear-
ance are sometimes, but not always, accompanied by high doses of addictive
substances and a mixture of tears, feelings of guilt, shame, loneliness, isolation,
and self-blame. Indeed, it was common for staff to watch these women end their
work day after such meetings. Sometimes they would ask the clinic to meet them
at the latest hour possible, so that they could get their pain off their chests before
going home.
When I once asked a woman why she eventually agreed to talk to me, she
replied:
No one will actually listen. Who wants to hear about prostitutes? And even if
I talk to someone about it, they won’t believe it. They might be terrified, so
I learned to hide it. I hide it so well that sometimes I believe it myself. But
when you come and see me dressed in this way, standing here in these hours,
I can’t hide it anymore, it’s obvious, and I can’t lie to you. You’re also not
afraid to hear the naked truth, and you also believe me.
While women in prostitution actually want to talk about their secret lives and
release part of their heavy burden, they usually face unwelcome reactions and
rejection (Scwartzberg and Somer 2004). Therefore, they learn to keep silent, sup-
pressing their thoughts, feelings, and huge parts of their psyches – even from
themselves.
Families and spouses

The complex dynamics of the relationship between survivals of incest and child
sexual abuse and their victimizers are interwoven with secrets, threats, guilt, role
change, shame, losing boundaries and control, hopelessness, and silence. Yet
keeping the abuse secret is what makes them preserve it as continuous, thus pre-
venting them from breaking the cycle. Another inconspicuous component in these
familial criminal dynamics are the mothers and other relatives, who are mostly
passive witnesses. When they discover the horror, they often react with denial
and concealment or refuse to believe the victim. In other cases, they may accuse
the victim of the abuse or demand that she forgive her abuser. Only in rare cases
will mothers and relatives protect the victim from these cycles of abuse (Seligman
2004).
According to international and Israeli research and clinical practice, approxi-
mately 90% of women with addictions or criminal histories and those who are in
prostitution have suffered from incest and child sexual abuse (Gur 2004, 2008;
92 Niveen Rizkalla
Silbert and Pines 1983). Gur (2004) argues that fathers who have sexually victim-
ized their daughters have trained them to be in prostitution. The girls will grow
up having no boundaries where their bodies are concerned, so that only by sexual
interaction with men can the girls feel appreciated and worthy (Seligman 2004).
Therefore, they will replicate the initial childhood offender-victim relationship
with other partners when they are adults (Coy 2009; Silbert and Pines 1983).
Nonetheless, to end up in prostitution, these women still need to experience vari-
ous kinds of abuse and homelessness. All their traumatic experiences teach these
women that they deserve whatever happens to them, that they are worthless, and
that they cannot trust anyone. Women in prostitution do not have a healthy nurtur-
ing model of what a non-abusive relationship looks or feels like. Therefore, their
relationships with others will be based on mistrust, destructive power relations,
isolation, violence, and dependency (Seligman 2004).
Women in prostitution treated in the clinic admit to keeping their night lives
secret from their families and spouses. An Israeli married woman in her thir-
ties once admitted: “My family does not raise any questions regarding the food
put on the table or the money in the bank. My spouse does not question the late
hours when I return home or the bruises on my body.” The women also admit
that their families and spouses believe their lies about being cleaners, waitresses,
or babysitters. The spouses enjoy the results of women’s plastic surgeries (Mas-
ters and Greaves 1967), wanting to believe that the women have them for their
eyes only. This silent contract between the two parties preserves the secret of
prostitution, its continuity, and the power balance between the abusive and the
abused. The non-responsiveness or passivity of the deaf-blinded party, the fam-
ily or spouse, thus permits the continuity of the abuse. Keeping silent about the
woman’s prostitution is as abusive as if the spouse were her pimp, while the other
party, the muted-victimized woman, who has neither the power nor the ability to
face the secrets or find a voice to declare them openly, continues in prostitution
feeling shame, guilt, and self-hatred (Schwartzberg and Somer 2004).
The resultant levels of isolation keep these women with little social life or
support systems and few arenas for expressing their real selves (Seligman 2004).
This isolation will eventually jeopardize their lives through higher risks of physi-
cal, sexual, or mental illnesses and additional sexual offenses. Indeed, van der
Kolk (1989) argues that these women are trapped in continual processes of
re-victimization and re-enactment.
When a woman contracts a sexually transmitted disease, the clinic staff will
encourage her to have her sexual partner tested as well. If the woman follows the
medical treatment but her sexual partner does not, then he will most likely re-
infect her. In cases when the woman convinces her partner to be tested, he tends to
show up at the clinic as if in complete denial of the test’s purposes. This response
reinforces the literature on relatives’ denial of the situation of sexually abused
victims (Seligman 2004). The staff also cooperates with the woman about keeping
secret her being in prostitution, so as not to expose her in front of her partner or
cause additional abuse and violence. A woman who once told her husband about
being in prostitution found herself and all her belongings scattered in the street.
When the clinic staff came to her rescue, she was bleeding, crying, and horribly
bruised.
Most women treated by the clinic tell chilling stories about their families’ reac-
tions when they learn of their being in prostitution. Families usually disconnect
from them and throw them out of their houses, thereby forcing them to live on
the streets and suffer even more physical and sexual abuse. Other families try to
“help” when sending women with drug addictions to rehab or by further restrict-
ing their behavior. For example, a 20-year-old woman in prostitution once called
the clinic asking for a place to sleep, because her parents’ restrictions included
having her sleep on the roof in the winter if she came home after 11 p.m. All of
these familial restrictions are implemented in the interest of denial or of pushing
prostitution away from them, so that they remain “clean” from any social disgrace
(Bjønness 2012).
Boyfriends and pimps

The Mobile Clinic staff treat teenage girls in prostitution starting at 14 years of
age. Teenage girls tell similar stories in the initial encounters, starting with falling
in love with a boy but having certain issues with him, issues evolving into an abu-
sive relationship. Later on, these girls appear at the clinic when stalked, beaten,
forced to have sex, or asked to have sex with all of the boyfriend’s friends. The
girls refuse to call it rape or sexual abuse (Logasy 2010). When the girl loses her
self-esteem and starts to feel disgusted with her behavior (Coy 2009), she may
start looking for means to numb her feelings, such as alcohol and drugs. She may
also start to have a lot of boyfriends at the same time and begin “using them” for
her benefit (Logasy 2010). When asked about her relationships with other boys, a
teenage girl once told me:
I use them as they use me. I get my revenge when I choose with whom to be
without being emotionally involved. One pays my rent, the other buys me
food, another one will take me out, and the one I really love doesn’t know
about the others.
Tellingly, the terminology the girls use is “boyfriend” or “friend,” never “cus-
tomer,” because for them, these relationships are personal, not prostitution. This
illusion of control, choice, and revenge eventually create confusion (Williamson
and Baker 2009), which internalizes as a lack of self-value (Coy 2009). Numb-
ing the pain by confusing the mind with alcohol and drugs can lead to the trap of
addiction. When becoming dependent on pain-numbing, they will have no choice
but to submit to prostitution and “work” in sex parlors or on the street to provide
money for their addiction (Miller 1995).
As adults, many women in prostitution have boyfriends or long-term relation-
ships that may replicate earlier abusive relationships (Silbert and Pines 1983).
94 Niveen Rizkalla
The clinic staff witness both relationships that are abusive and relationships bear-
ing similarities to captive-captor dependent interactions (Miller 1995). After the
women tell stories about being raped and abused by family members, partners,
pimps, or the police (Coy 2009), they feel trapped, with no avenue of escape.
They feel captivate in the relationship, knowing and feeling that they are abused
but cannot escape it (Miller 1995). In most cases, the boyfriend is also the wom-
an’s pimp or drug dealer, although she will never discuss or even name him as
such. This combination of denial and silence also helps keep her in the cycles of
prostitution and abusive relationships.
One clinic patient once said about her pimp, “I want to believe in a better future
with him and that he loves me and will protect me. He will watch me during my
work in the street and save me from violent customers or the police.” Usually,
younger women will be escorted by older men or be in a relationship with a drug
addict or drug dealer (Miller 1995). The boyfriend-pimp wants her to continue
earning money while he remains unemployed. He “cannot” work in the mornings
because he has sacrificed his night’s sleep to be her “guard.” Both parties keep
silent about the ugly reality of their relationship, thereby sustaining her abuse and
pimping. Sometimes the clinic staff see the pimp forcing a woman “to work” until
she earns a certain amount of money for the night. Some pimps provide condoms
for the woman’s “protection.” The women actually believe that these men are
their protectors, because the boyfriend-pimps will come to their rescue if any
customer becomes violent.
The clinic staff meet weekly with a 24-year-old woman in street prostitution
accompanied by her 60-year-old married pimp. They sit in his car every night
in an industrial zone until a customer arrives in his car and takes her to a darker,
deeper place in the woods. The pimp stays close to the scene and watches her until
she returns to his car or her original spot on the street, to await the next customer.
She tells the staff: “My boyfriend will take me for a weekend in Turkey when
we save enough money.” But sometimes she becomes angry and fights with him,
telling the staff, “He is not a man. He allows me to sleep with everybody and then
has no problem sleeping with me, too.” She does not realize that the pimp and his
wife and children live off her being sexually abused.
The ability of women in prostitution to judge what is a boyfriend and how he
is supposed to interact with them is damaged. They have great difficulty under-
standing the difference between a boyfriend and a pimp. Their sense of reality is
distorted by traumatic experiences from their past and boundary role confusion
(Coy 2009; Seligman 2004). When the admired father who lives under the same
roof with the young child, prepares her sandwiches, and drives her to school is the
same father who abuses her, that the boundaries and roles in relationships between
a boyfriend and a pimp become confused is not surprising.
In the street one winter, the clinic staff found a woman with a history of drug
addiction. She was crying that her boyfriend stole her prostitution money to buy
drugs for himself. When the staff convinced her to enter the van, they saw iron
burns covering her small bloodied body. She had evidently been suffering from
physical and sexual violence for years. But because her boyfriend-pimp provides
her with drugs, she continues to return to him, giving him the money from her
prostitution. Other pimps control the woman’s drug abuse by keeping the control
in their own hands. As one woman explained, “He takes care of me, keeps me
from killing myself from an overdose.” She does not realize that he wants her to
continue in the cycles of prostitution and drugs so that he can afford buying his
own drugs and luxuries.
The pimp is a silent agent who keeps brainwashing the woman into believing
that the illegal use of drugs is her problem. He colludes with her idea that he is her
boyfriend as a cover for his own illegal pimping. As pimping is a crime in Israel
(Bilsky 2000), he keeps silent about making a woman his slave. In addition, both
pimps and women in prostitution distrust both the authorities and the police, and
therefore keep their distance from them (Halter 2010; Sullivan 2007). Although
the woman in prostitution fears the authorities because of her drug use, her main
motive for not trusting anyone in authority is that the primarily parental authori-
ties have severely disappointed her by not protecting her from her abusers (Selig-
man 2004). Meanwhile, the pimp escapes the authorities, all the while telling the
woman that he is afraid because of her drug use, even though his pimping is the
actual reason for his fears.
The fear of both the authorities and of the legal repercussions of the illegal
activities involved in the relationship between pimps and women in prostitution
drag the women down into further illegal activities and a more criminal environ-
ment. This environment keeps the women even more dependent on their pimps
and thus in the silence of the violent cycles of prostitution.
Customers/purchasers of sexual services

“Customers” dehumanize, depersonalize, and objectify women in prostitution in
order to be able to buy sexual services from them. Customers stigmatize women
as the “other,” “diabolic,” “whore”: the women who are not to be married, the
“non-respectable” ones (Gur 2008; Pateman 1988; Sullivan 2007). These men
use women as objects for their own needs, meeting them in the dark to fulfill their
secret fantasies. Not only do they rape the women sexually (Sullivan 2007), but
they also rape them mentally and emotionally by not having any intimate dialogue
with them. Such intimate dialogue could show the men that women in prostitution
are actually human beings. This human side of prostitution would jeopardize the
men’s capacity to keep the women as dehumanized objects. Dialogue with women
in prostitution would mirror how human they are, and therefore threaten the men’s
own humanity, confusing their inner model of intimacy and love (Bruker 2007;
Spanger 2013).
The clinic van often visits sex parlors that are open at noon in Israel, encountering
customers who want to receive sexual services on their lunch break. These customers
come from diverse ages, races, social, economic and personal backgrounds (Bruker
2007; Erlich 2005; Freund, Lee and Leonard 1991). The clinic staff sometimes
96 Niveen Rizkalla
see customers who wear designer clothes and drive fancy cars, belonging to large
computer companies (e.g., Intel), pharmaceutical companies (e.g., Amdocs), and
a variety of human rights organizations. Thus no prototype of the male customer
really exists. They can be anyone’s sons, brothers, fathers, or husbands, and they
buy sexual services from the women either proudly or secretively. For some men,
buying sex is private and secretive, perhaps because they are married or ashamed or
because they have to pay for it. For many other men, buying sex is weekend enter-
tainment with their male friends, a behavior considered socially acceptable and thus
encouraged – a behavior to feel proud of (Bruker 2007).
A woman in prostitution once told me that “customers come and ask for the
most bizarre sexual fantasies, the ones they cannot ask from their wives. Men
don’t have infidelity issues when they are married or have girlfriends because the
sexual services they ask for can only be done with a prostitute.” Apparently, these
men reserve for their wives and girlfriends only conventional sexual activities or
the ones allowed by their religion (Judaism, Christianity, Islam or Druze). This
kind of socialized behavior jeopardizes all women in society by making them
objects in men’s eyes (Gruenpeter-Gold and Burt 2007). These men split women
into the well-known Madonna-whore categories (Phaterson 1996; Ryan 1997).
The Madonna is the one at home, to be betrayed, used, and exploited as a cleaner,
cook, and a mother whose womb is used for carrying children. In contrast, the
whore’s purpose is only for the fulfillment of the men’s sexual fantasies. After
all, “fantasy” is a beautiful word that disguises control, feelings of superiority,
actual rape, sexual abuse, and the exploitation of women (Bruker 2007). This
Madonna-whore split actually damages the mental health of many men. It leaves
them handicapped when it comes to integrating the two parts of the split, and thus
prevents them from enjoying a sexual relationship, as well as an emotional loving
relationship with the same person.
When young men have their first sexual experiences with women in prostitu-
tion, they learn to form their sexual behavior with violence and without intimacy
or attachment (Kaplan 1988). They learn to buy sex, to consume a human body
for their own pleasures and needs, and to view the women as only an object.
They do not consider the woman’s needs and pleasure because they do not see
the relationship as either intimate or loving. When these young men later develop
a relationship with young women, they will duplicate this dis-attached, violent,
abusive sexual behavior, as it is the only sexual behavior that they have expe-
rienced (Bruker 2007). As a consequence of such a complex social cycle, men
first rape women in prostitution (Sullivan 2007) and then the other women they
encounter. Therefore, if this social dynamic continues, generations of rapist men
and raped women will continue to evolve.
These violent dynamics and the silence that revolves around the consumption
of sexual services can also be seen on certain Israeli internet websites. Customers
often brag about the women with whom they had sex and give advice and recom-
mendations to other men when considering going to specific women in prostitu-
tion (Gruenpeter-Gold and Burt 2007). As if they were butchers, these men portray
the women in detail, with pornographic descriptions of the intimate parts of their
bodies. Men’s consumption behavior is also seen via their attitudes towards the
clinic services. On the one hand, they will ask for STD tests, because they either
do not trust the women or are disgusted by them. On the other hand, they ask for
condoms so as to continue their consumption. They regard the clinic services for
the women they objectify as yet another service for their own needs. Therefore, in
their behavior, they objectify the clinic services, just as they objectify the women.
Prostitution will continue if the consumption of sexual services continues. As
long as the silence surrounding sexual consumption continues, the lack of educa-
tion about the damage caused to men’s mental health will also continue. Lack
of education legitimizes the endless cycles of abuse, rape, and violence against
women in general (hooks 2000), and against women in prostitution in particular.
These cycles are the direct cycles interacting with women in prostitution.
They are direct in the intensity of the men’s interaction with the women living
with them, abusing them, exploiting them, and humiliating them in violence and
silence. The cycles in the following sections are indirect, cycles that interact with
women in prostitution with less intensity (Figure 5.1). Nevertheless, these cycles
interact with the women and with each other in complex dynamics that preserve
the violence and thus the silence about the prostitution of women.
The Haifa District Health Office and the Mobile Clinic staff
The Prime Minister in Israel has authorized the Haifa District Health Office to be
responsible for activating the Haifa Mobile Clinic treating women in prostitution
• 1. Women in prostuon
• 2. Families and spouses
• 3. Boyfriends and pimps
• 4. Costumers/purchasers of sexual services
• 5. The Haifa Ministry of Health and the
Mobile Clinic’s staff
• 6. Professional helpers
• 7. Educaonal systems
• 8. Society
• 9. Academic systems
• 10. Polical and legal systems
Figure 5.1 Direct and indirect cycles of silence and silencing

98 Niveen Rizkalla
in northern Israel. Therefore, the budget for the Haifa Mobile Clinic activity
comes directly from the Prime Minister’s office. The Mobile Clinic treats women
from Hadera to Kiryat Shmona (the Northern part of Israel), an area of about
2,800 square kilometers or 1,100 square miles. According to clinic registration
statistics, 767 women received services during 2009–2013 for the first time. Most
women continue receiving the services weekly. All these women in prostitution
situated in this large zone of northern Israel receive services from the small staff
of seven professionals and some volunteers.
The staff works from 7 p.m. until 2 a.m. three times a week, searching for and
reaching out to women in prostitution. When first coming to work with these
women, the staff members are highly motivated, with good intentions, believing
that through such work they are implementing feminist ideologies very close to
their hearts. Gradually, and simultaneously, two processes silence the staff and
cause its members to experience dynamics similar to the ones experienced by the
women. The first process is rejection, estrangement, and silencing (Heller 2003),
both by society and by the Ministry of Health (MoH). The second process occurs
during their compassionate and empathetic interaction with the women in pros-
titution, a process known as “secondary traumatization” (Figley 1995; Pearlman
and Mac Ian 1995).
The Israeli MoH is a government office known for its complex, slow bureau-
cracy. It is very proud to be responsible for women’s health and to have the Haifa
Mobile Clinic as its messenger. But where practical work in the field is concerned,
MoH reactions to staff needs are both inadequate and ambivalent. When working
in a dynamic environment such as that of women in prostitution, the staff needs
to have a flexible space for responding adequately to unanticipated events. Such
events can be emergencies, such as evacuating a woman to a hospital, buying food
for hungry women, or finding a shelter for a woman and her children who were
thrown onto the street in the middle of the night. Non-emergency needs include
staff contracts and salaries, supervision for the staff in the interest of preventing
secondary traumatization, and other new regulations according to the demands
evolving from the fieldwork.
When the staff raises these issues, the first reactions of the MoH are lack of
understanding and refusal. After a great many meetings and explanations, the
MoH accepts the staff requests. But the execution of these requests will be so
complex and bureaucratically slow that the staff loses hope. For example, it
took months before the staff was provided with equipment and rules on how
to medically treat women or information on how to react in an acute situation
on the streets, or a workshop on safety and security. The staff feels frustrated
and expresses a great deal of aggression, similar to the aggression expressed by
women in prostitution towards authorities (i.e., police). These MoH reactions
make the staff feel unappreciated, abandoned, abused, and muted by its own
organizational system, instead of providing the staff with a safe space and protec-
tive environment for work.
In addition, the staff members also face ambivalent reactions to their work. On
the one hand, they receive a lot of social rejection; on the other, an admiration of
their “God’s work.” Yet these apparently different reactions are actually the same,
constituting a reaction against the staff’s choices of such work, i.e., as socially
unacceptable. When first hearing about the staff work, people sometimes ask,
“Why do you need such work?” In other words, “Please don’t talk to me about it.”
Others react differently, saying, “Wow, you are doing God’s work. I admire you.”
What they mean is that “This is too overwhelming, I can’t do it myself, please
don’t elaborate too much on it.” These rejection-admiration reactions put the staff
in a marginalized and isolated position.
Therefore, staff members tend not to share their horror stories in familial or
social settings, because even the hearing of these stories is perceived as being
harmful and traumatizing. When trying to protect their loved ones from their work
reality, the staff ironically replicate the behavior of their clients. They keep their
work experiences to themselves, consequently feeling emotionally isolated from
any possibility of disclosing the processes with which they cope during their work.
The second process, that of secondary traumatization (Figley 1995; Pearlman
and Mac Ian 1995), occurs when the staff interacts and empathizes with women
in prostitution. The women’s stories affect the staff’s personal and professional
wellbeing, reflecting the women’s experiences. At work, the atmosphere of con-
spiracy, competition, suspicion, mistrust, anger, and violence permeates the staff’s
work. Their frustration relate to the MoH and the feelings of helplessness when
treating women in prostitution can be projected onto one another or can appear as
a rebellion against the director, who represents authority. In their personal lives,
they complain that their work has negative effects on their sleep, appetite, and
sexual lives, and leads to smoking and drinking (Pearlman and Mac Ian 1995).
All these characteristics make the staff feel more lonely, burned out, angry, and
frustrated, leaving them muted, voiceless and feeling abused.
Professional helpers
This section deals with professional helpers – such as doctors, nurses, educational
counselors, and social workers – who do not work directly with women in prosti-
tution, but instead have random encounters with them.
Women in prostitution use the services provided by the Mobile Clinic because
of the late night hours that it provides its services. These late hours make the
women in prostitution incapable of waking up and seeing doctors in the morn-
ings (Cwikel, Ilan and Chudakov 2003). In addition, the women admit that they
will never tell a doctor the real reason for their anxiety (e.g., a torn condom) or
their suspicions about their sexual health. These women declare that they rarely
see their doctors and will never admit to them the “real” reasons for requesting
medical tests or for asking for treatment when infected. Doctors, in turn, collude
by turning a blind eye, not eliciting unwanted answers that they cannot handle.
100 Niveen Rizkalla
This secretive atmosphere, brought on in part by the silence of doctors in daytime
clinics, takes its revenge on the women’s neglected bodies, abandoning them and
putting them even more at risk.
In Israel, few social workers treat teenagers or women in prostitution. Even
when they meet these women, these social workers do not know how to recog-
nize the distress or the double lives they are living. As most social workers do
not want to face these multi-problematic patients (Logasy 2010), they call the
Mobile Clinic for advice on the best scenario or, most often, forward the case to
somebody else. Judgmental approaches and negative stereotypes of professionals
on prostitution exist among both Israeli Jewish (Gur 2004) and Palestinian social
workers (Zoabi and Savaya 2012) social workers. Therefore, these social workers
have difficulty detecting and identifying symptoms that are right in front of their
eyes. As they are not trained to treat women in prostitution, when faced with such
cases, they remain helpless and anxious. Mostly, the social workers are afraid to
lose their patients’ trust if they confront them with their suspicions (Levin and
Peled 2011; Logasy 2010). But when their patients reveal the truth about their
condition, the social workers treat them judgmentally, ripping their voices away
and again muting them (Gur 2004), preserving the abuse and violent cycles in
their patients daily lives.
Prostitution is also intangible and invisible for educational counselors work-
ing with teenage girls. These counselors are not trained to detect the symptoms
or warning signs of prostitution or to treat such cases. Preferring denial rather
than seeing prostitution while it is still in its early stages (Levin and Peled 2011;
Logasy 2010), they contribute significantly to allowing the situation of these teen-
age girls to deteriorate to more abusive and violent prostitution. These socially
blinded educational counselors thus push the unseen prostitution towards the bru-
tally seen one.
Educational systems
In attempting to minimize the number of teenagers consuming sexual services and
to educate boys and girls on the damage caused to both parties, the Mobile Clinic
and sister organizations (e.g., Erim Balyla and Ofek Nashi) joined forces with the
Ministry of Education in 2013 to conduct workshops for high school students.
Collaborating with the Ministry of Education on adding this subject to its edu-
cational system was extremely difficult. At the end of the negotiations, we agreed
to have a conference for educational counselors’ awareness about prostitution and
youth as they would be the ones conducting the students’ workshops. Long plan-
ning meetings were accompanied by our having to deal with negative patriarchal
stereotypes of prostitution held by the counselors’ supervisors, especially the male
supervisors in positions of authority and power (Pateman 1988). However, even
though we provided them with the information and tools for teaching the students
about prostitution, these mostly female counselors still needed permission from
their mostly male supervisors. It took us six months to convince the supervisors to
allow their staff to attend the conference.
When we met with the educational counselors during the conference, they were
unexpectedly eager to hear every word the panel offered. They openly revealed
their concerns, anxieties, and surprise, raising a lot of dilemmas that they faced
with their own sons and daughters. They agreed to be responsible for discussing
the subject of prostitution to their classes, making it heard and visible. This agree-
ment is the first step in the multi-level process of getting education about prostitu-
tion into high schools classrooms.
Nonetheless, much work is needed if all schools in Israel are to broach these
taboo, invisible subjects in their educational systems (Gruenpeter-Gold and Burt
2007). By remaining in its rejectionist position, under the guise of protecting the
pupils from unpleasant subjects, the educational system contributes to the further
abandonment, molestation, and silencing of girls, as well as the damage caused to
boys and men in the cycles of prostitution.
Society
A patriarchal society blames and demonizes women in prostitution to keep them
invisible, in the silence of the shadows, and voiceless (Hubbard 2004; Logasy
2010). The motivation underlying this behavior is likely the fear that looking will
make them see their social and personal responsibilities, in turn forcing them to
act (Anderson 2010). Taking action may include thinking and actually trying to
stop men’s consumption of women, socially and legally (Levenkron 2013). This
interaction within an ambiguous society – which consumes sexual services on
the one hand, yet refuses to awaken from its blindness on the other – fixes these
women in their voiceless position, as demons, as if they are less than human
(Agustin 2007; Bjønness 2012).
One of the clinic’s activities is to raise public awareness of the existence of
women in prostitution and the damage prostitution causes. In one clinic survey,
50% of those who participated thought women in prostitution chose their “work.”
One mother approaching the staff said: “I prefer that my son buy sexual services
rather than raping other women. Prostitutes will prepare him better for actually
sleeping with his girlfriends in the future.” This parent understood neither the
damage to women in prostitution nor the damage to her son when he follows
her suggestions and encouragement. Therefore, the clinic initiated collaborations
with parent groups to raise awareness of parental responsibility towards both
their children and women in prostitution. Raising their awareness, and later their
voices, might decelerate the process of silencing their children in the violence of
prostitution.
Journalism plays its own part in preserving societal views towards women in
prostitution. Journalists search, both as exhibitionists and voyeurs, for juicy sites,
seeking fame rather than accurately representing these women as survivors or
victims (Agustin 2007; Bjønness 2012; Gruenpeter-Gold and Burt 2007). One
night, journalists joined the staff in the clinic van. Before going out, the staff
explained the sensitivity inherent in this type of work and the importance of keep-
ing the women’s identities confidential. The staff asked the journalists specifically
102 Niveen Rizkalla
not to photograph or publish the names of any of the women they met, especially
because of the hard work the staff had gone through to gain the women’s trust.
The journalists agreed to these conditions.
But the next morning the staff were furious when they saw pictures of two of
the clinic’s patients in the newspaper, photographed from behind in an obvious
location for the public’s knowledge and for consumers’ convenience. The journal-
ists had broken their word, in turn making these women believe that the staff had
broken theirs – and they no longer wanted to meet with the staff.
Many journalists thus sabotage society, keeping alive the “romantic” picture of
women in prostitution when obeying their editors’ desires for a “sexier” story. In
the interests of their own careers, they show none of the horrors behind prostitution,
betraying not only the women and their audience but also the investigative purpose
of their profession. Therefore, women in prostitution are mostly represented as
“choosing” their way of life with full control and “rational decision” (Heller 2003).
Yet the only actors who can truly choose in this situation are the journalists, and
they choose to ignore the ugliness of prostitution. They prefer preserving social
norms in keeping the image presented in the movie “Pretty Woman” (starring Julia
Roberts), leaving the real world of prostitution in total neglect and silence.
Academic systems
Few resources are allocated for research studies and surveys on prostitution in
Israel. The only resource-assigned research, through the office of the Prime Min-
ister, is conducted on the prevalence of prostitution (ongoing and as yet unpub-
lished). This research is limited because it does not explore the conditions or
needs of women in prostitution, or evaluate programs and budgets needed in help-
ing these women reconstruct their lives and restore their voices.
In addition, there are insufficient courses offered in Israeli universities and col-
leges in the human services professions such as law, social work, psychology, edu-
cational counseling, nursing, and medicine (Gruenpeter-Gold and Harel-Shemesh
2010). Each of these departments produces professionals who will actually
encounter women in prostitution. However, given their lack of education about the
realities of prostitution, these professionals will not be able to diagnose the case
properly, feel safe to address and help adequately, or even know what community
services are appropriate for the women (Levin and Peled 2011; Logasy 2010).
The academic system, in its minimal programs of research (Agustin 2007),
training, and teaching about prostitution, collaborate with the social systems of
patriarchal violence. It preserves the social norms of silencing the phenomenon,
oppressing it, and leaving it abandoned to more abusive consequences for profes-
sionals and women in prostitution.
Political and legal systems

In both the United States and Israel, the law defines rape as the proven lack of a
person’s consent to have sexual, vaginal, penetrating intercourse (Anderson 2010;
Bilsky 2000). This penetration affirms men’s masculinity and patriarchal power
(Pateman 1988), and is reinforced by the law (Sullivan 2007). Even in the 21st
century, sexual situations between a man and a woman, involving initial consent
but devolving to diverse vague scenarios (e.g., the woman loses the capacity to
fight or flee because she freezes in silence, or intercourse with a woman who does
not feel desire or pleasure) cannot and are not considered rape (Anderson 2010).
While in prostitution, women usually “agree” in advance with the customer on the
sexual service to be provided, the paralyzing dissociation that usually accompa-
nies women during sexual aggression in no way suggests consent or “real” agree-
ment (Anderson 2010; Bilsky 2000; Sullivan 2007).
The Israeli legal system treats women in prostitution with a double standard.
On the one hand, prostitution is “legal”; on the other, pimping, trafficking, and
human slavery are illegal and even criminal (Bilsky 2000). The legal and political
systems regard prostitution as a social problem, at best stigmatizing the women as
victims. No laws protect these women from their violent customers, and no laws
yet criminalize the customers who “purchase” sexual services (Sullivan 2007).
The only minor action of the government is the financing of two mobile clinics
treating the STDs of all women in prostitution in Israel. In addition, these two
clinics suffer every year from having their budgets cut, despite the increased costs
of fuel, medication, and vaccines. This lack of government action abandons these
women, “othering” and marginalizing them, robbing them of their voices. It also
declares that these women remain a threat to public health, to marriage and to
public order and decency (Bjønness 2012; Hubbard 2004).
According to Israeli social welfare systems that treat women in prostitution,
these women need shelter, therapy, and employment (Gruenpeter-Gold and Harel-
Shemesh 2010). In Israel, only two shelters provide 24-hour services and psycho-
social therapy to women in prostitution (ages 18 and older): “Sal’it” in Tel Aviv
and “Ofek Nashi” in Haifa. The budgets and resources designated for these two
shelters are governmental, and every year they are further reduced (Gruenpeter-
Gold and Burt 2007).
Another organization that suffers every year from government budget cuts is
“Elem.” “Elem” is the only organization in Israel that has a special program called
“Erim Balayla” (“Awake at Night”) for teenaged girls in prostitution under the age of
18. Taking into account the few organizations in Israel that offer services to teenaged
girls and women in prostitution, no shelters or programs exist for mothers in prostitu-
tion. These mothers cannot leave their children, although one of the requirements for
participating in the intensive programs offered by the shelters is for the women to come
alone. Therefore, these mothers remain unreached and in the cycles of prostitution.
In addition, Israeli governmental systems allocate their resources only to Tel
Aviv, Haifa, and Eilat, leaving the more marginalized women in other areas even
more abandoned. Thus the real purpose of funding such programs is not to genu-
inely reach out to these women. Instead, these funds provide a false inducement
for the public, the helpers, and the women themselves to eventually keep silent,
thereby remove from them the anger or energy they need to demand the prioritiz-
ing of such resources according to their actual needs.
104 Niveen Rizkalla
While most of the women with whom the clinic’s staff interacted were Israeli
citizens, a worried social worker called me in the summer of 2013, saying:
I always drive on the 65 road. This winter, in different spots and on differ-
ent occasions, I saw women with children on the sides of the road, begging
(money) from car drivers entering the Arab towns of Umm al-Fahm, Wadi
Ara, Ar’ara to Ahihud. Once, I asked one of the workers at a gas station
why everybody was ignoring these women and children, not giving them
any money. The worker explained that these women are actually Palestinian
women smuggled by drivers (pimps) who take them from the West Bank
to Israel and back every day [the “Triangle” is very close to the border of
the West Bank, making smuggling easier there than on other borders]. The
children who come with the women are not theirs, but impostors, to make
people feel sorry for them and give them money. Therefore these children
will remain very close to these women throughout the day.
After a while, people understood the trick and stopped giving them money,
so then the women started gaining the money from prostitution. They enter
the drivers’ cars and offer sexual services, putting their lives in extreme dan-
ger if the client becomes very violent. The worker also told me that if these
women miss their lift back home, with the drivers (pimps) who took them in
the morning, they will be left in Israel for the rest of the night.
I wanted to see if he was telling me the truth, so I started looking for these
women and children at nights, until I saw them sitting in the underpasses of
the roads around a fire, trying to warm themselves. I have been seeing them
for the last two weeks now, at least twice a week. I guess they had been with
a client and missed their lift back home. You have to do something about it,
we can’t leave them there.
Because this relatively small group of Palestinian women, who were actually traf-
ficked across the borders by their pimps, stayed in Israel illegally, their situation
is one of multiple marginality. First, they are in street prostitution, which puts
them at great risk of contracting a sexual disease or of being battered or killed by
a customer. Second, these women have no legal status and therefore are not eli-
gible for any medical, social, or humanitarian services in Israel. Third, the Israeli
government and police will catch them and deport them, treating them as illegal
aliens crossing the borders and returning them to their families in the West Bank.
The border police do not take into consideration that these women keep both their
trips across the borders and their prostitution a huge secret from their families.
Therefore, when these women are brought back by the border patrol, the secret
is revealed to their families, thereby putting them at risk of being beaten or even
murdered by their relatives.
The Haifa and Tel Aviv mobile clinics wrote a letter to the Ministry of Jus-
tice in Jerusalem about the fragile situation of these Palestinian women. A formal
reply reached our offices nine months later, stating that “your letter is still under
review by the ministries responsible for the matter.” Two years later, no response
has been received, nor has any action been taken regarding the situation. These
women keep standing on the streets, in the cycles of the most violent prostitution,
sleeping in the underpasses and being deported each time they are caught by the
border patrol. These women’s lives are in danger, either from the violence of their
customers – who know that they are illegal and that no one will speak up for them
even if they are murdered – or by their families, which will not hesitate to kill
them to “protect the honor of the family.”
The governmental systems, along with the legal system, continue the silence,
neglect, and alienation of women in prostitution. When these systems do not con-
duct any overt actions to stop the violence against these women, they are encour-
aging violence not only against the women themselves, but also against society as
a whole. Preserving the silence and silencing in all the systems of Israeli society
alienates it from these women, taking away from women in prostitution every
opportunity of bettering their lives. The lack of public awareness, education, and
critical understanding of published journalism keep both society and its “mes-
sengers” (e.g., therapists, educational counselors, professors, doctors and all other
services providers) in the shadows of ignorance. Education will help remove the
stereotypes that blame these women for social corruption, whereas lack of edu-
cation will lead to more violence. Instead of regarding women in prostitution as
engaging in survival sex and suffering sexual abuse, Israeli society regards them
as the ones who chose this kind of life, and whose presumed immorality and inde-
cency create social problems.
When a society – with all of its political, legal, educational, professional
systems, and families – awakens from its ignorance and collaborates in raising
awareness about violence against women in prostitution, then such violence might
be stopped.
To approach such an awakening, governments need to allocate reasonable
budgets for intensive programs aimed at reconstructing women’s lives, includ-
ing 24-hour shelters in all of the major cities, employment programs, special
programs for mothers and teenaged girls, and professional supervision for help-
ers providing services to women in prostitution. The legal system needs to crim-
inalize the consumption of prostitution and human bodies, and enact rules to
minimize the damage caused by journalism and media, as well as educating the
professionals working in the legal field (e.g., lawyers, judges). The educational
system needs to add professional courses and research to all service provid-
ers’ fields. In addition, mandatory classes for high school students need to be
embraced in every high school, combined with parental awareness meetings.
Finally, municipalities need to activate their communities to enlarge the aware-
ness and tolerance of the public.
If each system, each individual, and each one of us takes responsibility for
its part in contributing to the phenomenon of violence against women, espe-
cially women in prostitution, their current and future suffering could be greatly
mitigated – and even stopped. Meanwhile, in a world controlled by violence and
the de-humanization of women in prostitution, giving voice to the voiceless con-
stitutes an act of humanizing the dehumanized.
106 Niveen Rizkalla
Notes
1 This article was written during my post-doctoral position at the Mack Center on Mental
Health and Social Conflict, School of Social Welfare, at the University of California,
Berkeley, USA. I would like to thank Dale Mikkelson for his enlightening comments
and fruitful discussions; and to thank Reem Khalaf for her special donation and tolerant
efforts in drawing the cycles’ figure of this article.
2 Although the Mobile Clinic of the Haifa District Health Office, Israel also treats men
and LGBTQ individuals, its main focus is women in prostitution. The Clinic staff speak
Hebrew, Russian, and Arabic, according to the native language of each woman. The
women whom the staff encounter come from the Christian, Druze, Jewish, and Muslim
religions.
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6 Circles of influence
Israeli men as sex tourists
in Thailand
Guy Bruker
Introduction
This article presents findings from ethnographic experience of Israeli men who
are sex tourists in Pattaya, Thailand. It examines the practices and narratives of
the men, and the way in which they construct the interaction between themselves
and Thai women in prostitution.
Sexuality and gender are both constructed by society, and therefore the way
in which men consume prostitution and perceive it depends on the society they
live in. In Walby’s book (1990), which includes descriptions of the main social
structures that presently compose patriarchy, it is noted that current gender-based
relationships consist of a set of patriarchal relationships, combined with capital-
ist relationships (Gezinski et al. 2016). Sex tourism highlights the link between
patriarchal mechanisms and capitalist mechanisms. Sex tourism emphasizes the
link between prostitution (Yen 2014), trade in women (Munro 2012), and tour-
ism (Cohen 1984), while being based on political-economic divisions between
rich countries and poor countries the global South and global North, as well as
historical structures that support submission and inferiority of women (Empel and
Wagner 2012; Wonders and Michalowski 2001).
Prostitution customers are those who fund the global sex industry, which cashes
in tremendous amount of money. Throughout the years, a lot has been written on
women who engage in prostitution; the interest in customers, however, began
merely at the end of the 20th century (Serughetti 2013). In the past several years,
academics have been recognizing this wide void and started turning their research
attention to prostitution customers (Curley 2014; Davis 1993; Joseph and Black
2012; Monto and Julka 2009; Oppermann 1998; Weitzer 2000). The research
regarding men who consume sex tourism developed more and more, with sev-
eral researches being based on qualitative interviews (Demartoto 2013; Bernstein
2001; Frank 2003; Hoang 2014; Jordan 1997; Sanders 2008; Rivers-Moore 2012),
among which stands out the work of O’Connell Davidson (1998, 2000, 2001),
whose research provided insight into experiences and motivations of male cus-
tomers. There is quantitative research based on customers surveys (Monto 1999,
2010, Monto and Milrod 2014; Kennedy, Gorzalka and Yuille 2004).
110 Guy Bruker
Although sex tourism can take on varied forms (Frohlick 2013), sex tourists
are mostly men, generally with considerable resources and from all social lay-
ers (Kennedy, Gorzalka and Yuille 2004), while the prostitutes are poor women
(Demartoto 2013).
Globalization
This age of globalization is characterized by unprecedented movement of money
and people between countries. The dependency theory has phrased the percep-
tions regarding international relationships and the systematic exploitation of poor
countries by richer countries. Today, people constantly consume not just material
goods, but also other people. Under these circumstances, there are women whose
bodies and souls become products.
In order to dive into the micro of sex tourism, we should understand first the
macro context, which allows and outlines the existence of the sex tourism indus-
try, while connecting the micro and macro: “We won’t understand the current
world, unless we follow the growth traces of global markets and development
process of capitalism” (Bandyopadhyay 2013, 21).
My article adopts the critical approach and perceives the globalization as a
foundation for sex tourism’s development; thus, the globalization constitutes as a
central pillar in sex tourism’s enhancement. The growth in sex tourism throughout
the past years is well established (Empel and Wagner 2012; Oppermann 1998).
Global forces impact the global sex tourism’s production using mechanisms of the
consumption society, which are directed towards those who have the resources to
travel and purchase freely.
Prostitution has become one of the biggest businesses, and human traffick-
ing took on new sophisticated forms due to the massive development of inter-
continental tourism, thus turning the sex vacation into a thriving phenomenon
(Empel and Wagner 2012). Sex tourism is one of the most developing markets in
the new world, and this industry produces billions of dollars. One of the things
that is most influenced by the interaction between tourists and hosts is sex roles;
therefore, it is not surprising that sex tourism receives significant attention in the
tourism literature (Lorde 1984; Oppermann 1998).
By exploring sex tourism as a product of global forces, I am able to divert the
attention from individual “prostitutes” as social problems to “sex tourism” as a
form of global commerce. Policy makers, academics and others tend to perceive
prostitution as a problem created by prostitutes. Similarly, there is a tendency
to perceive sex tourism as a problem which is attributed to other countries, a
problem created mainly by women from Third World countries, who chose to
shift from being “decent” women by selling their sexuality. Since prostitution
occurs in local contexts, it is generally treated with individual accordance to local
economy and culture. It is likely that there are places in which global forces have
more significant role in the sex tourism that becomes local in certain places, such
as Pattaya. It is evident that the current growth and the nature of sex tourism are
Circles of influence 111
significantly connected to global forces, combined with local forces. Namely, pro-
cesses with global and local contexts are irrevocably intertwined.
Patriarchy
The starting point of feminist intersection theories (Lorde 1984), is that women are
met with oppression in different ways and at different intensity levels, although all
women are potential victims of gender-based oppression. This oppression is var-
ied by the different intersections with other social inequality arrangements. The
inequality arrangements can be named vectors of oppression and privileges which
are based not just on gender but on status, race, global location and age, as well.
The differences between those intersections change the quality of female experi-
ence; thus, they must be taken into account. The intersections theory recognizes
the fundamental connection between ideology and power (Katsulis 2010).
Two prominent theoreticians in the radical feminism field enhance those claims
regarding the sex industry. MacKinnon (1989), claims that the sex industry reflects
the patriarchal society, which attributes erotic significance to the relationship of
subordination and dependency between men and women. Enslavement of women
for prostitution, and presentation of them as negotiable available objects, create
a situation in which women can serve as decorative symbols of masculine sta-
tus and power, while ignoring them being humans with rights. According to this
approach, the patriarchal society is perpetuating a structure of social stratification
in the sex industry in which men are people with power and economical resources
and women are no more than a negotiable body which is available for purchase.
Andrea Dworkin writes:
The sex was discovered as one dimension in a complex of social relation-

ships, a dimension which its organization, contents and attributed valence,
are determined socially, namely by the dominant group’s interests. The prem-
ise for perceiving the private sphere in general, and the sex field in particular,
is that they are infused with power relations. The feminism led the way to the
development of research field which sets sexuality as central perspective of
cultural analysis.
in: MacKinnon (1989, 13)
Research method
The way in which men structure the sex tourism industry is set in the center of this
research, with a goal to follow the significant nets the men weave around them-
selves. Perception of reality is, in fact, constructing a reality with the ability to
explain the phenomenon and justify the resulting actions (Morehouse and Maykut
2002). Tracing the structures was based on the feminist methodology which sets
the gender-oriented perspective at the center of, and attempts to expose structures
112 Guy Bruker
of social inequality and change, the gender status quo. According to this approach,
feminist research can engage in men and masculinity, as in any other subject, as
long as the gender is its main analytical category and as long as it is sensitive to
and aware of the gender-based power relations.
The research and my conclusions are grounded in the field, through a participat-
ing observation which was spread over a period of three months in Pattaya. The
Israeli hotel and its restaurant served as a base for my fieldwork. I performed most
interviews during the afternoon hours, around a table in the lobby or in the small,
quiet computers room. Most participants were staying in the hotel for several
days, and I managed to contact them. There were others who merely arrived to
dine in the restaurant and stayed in different hotels. When I offered to interview
them, most requests received positive responses, although researchers note that
research on prostitution customers is highly complex, since it’s difficult to con-
tact them and receive cooperation (Grenz 2005). I didn’t encounter any special
problems with cooperation, and often the participants themselves were those who
came to me to be interviewed.
Throughout time, I became a known figure, and my presence in the hotel
became a regular one, and indeed, my constant presence in the place, previous
acquaintance with many of the men, the open atmosphere towards sex, a promise
of anonymity, me being a male and – most of all – the interviews being performed
in Pattaya resulted in cooperation during the interviews. I performed 60 open
interviews with the Israeli sex tourists. The structure of the interviews/conversa-
tions was open, and they were performed in a narrative method. This approach
complied with my intention to get to know the experiences and perspectives of
the tourists and understand the way in which they construct their experiences and
perspectives (Noy 2003). Some of the interviews were very much concrete and
didn’t develop into flowing conversations – these interviews could last approxi-
mately 20 minutes, but there were recorded interviews in which the conversation
developed into varied issues and those conversations sometime lasted up to two
hours. There were cases in which the presence of the tape recorder changed the
form of expression; however, the openness and free speech served as a climate
for open conversations. When I arrived back to Israel, I transcribed the recorded
interviews, and this allowed me to perform a more analytical and focused analysis
of the interviews.
The participants’ ages ranged between 18 and 65, with the average age being 34.
The marital status of the participants was: bachelors, 35; married, 16; divorced,
9. It is difficult to portray the socioeconomic profile of the participants, since they
didn’t provide many details about it. However, the cheap room’s charge, 350 Bat
per night (approximately 35 NIS, $10), may serve as an indication. This assump-
tion is problematic, as well, for men who could have afforded a more expensive
hotel chose this one due to its Israeli orientation. However, it is known that prosti-
tution’s consumption is a phenomenon crossing socioeconomic layers (Monto and
Milrod 2014; Pitts et al. 2004).
One of the main issues which captured the researcher’s attention during
the process of data collections and its analysis is the need to understand the
informants’ world within their cultural contexts. The assumption is that no phe-
nomenon can be structured outside of context: “There is no such a thing as a
human nature that is disconnected from culture” (Geertz 1973, 43). According
to this claim, I attempt understanding the significances as dependent upon the
cultural context, by treating this data within its cultural context – the original
culture of the Israeli men.
Circles of influence
If we started our journey following Turner (1973), from the familiar place towards
the stage in which the reality is structured as different, the time has come to return
to Israel and explore the influence of sex tourism on the original culture of the
customers. The prices the women engaging in this industry pay that was widely
discussed in many articles should constantly remain before our eyes. The article
sheds light on the notion that prostitution and sex tourism have other, secondary
victims who pay high prices. The circles of influence, which we currently mark,
are related to the sex tourism consumers themselves, the life partner of those cus-
tomers, women in Israel and the culture of origin to which they return.
Influence on the men engaging in sex tourism

The men engaging in sex tourism are influenced by their stay in Pattaya, and by
the experience that makes them feel “manly”, the way they want to see themselves
with women; thus, the time spent in Pattaya is both powerful and influential (Neal
2018).
Meir: Seven years ago my friends have been here, they told me to come, that
it’s a nice place with great girls. I came. Since then you can’t get me out.
Half of my life I spend here, any chance I get. I gave up Israel long time
ago. Every man that arrives to Pattaya for the first time, come back his
entire life. Why? Because you feel like a man. Back at home you don’t
feel like that, it’s not the sex, it’s because you feel like a man here, feel
like a human being.
The realization of the masculine performance leads many men to get addicted to
the feeling of total superiority, a superiority that blurs the anxieties which emerge
as a result of the wish to resemble the hegemonic model of masculinity (Connell
2000; Katsulis 2010; Joseph and Black 2012). Etgar (1997), depicts the symp-
toms which indicate that people are sex addicts, and among those symptoms can
be found a constant search for new partners, heavy financial investments in the
matter and usage of force or manipulations to get sex, while promoting self sat-
isfaction without any consideration or reference to others’ needs; thus, the other
person’s role is to serve merely as provider of needs satisfaction.
Those parameters are evident in statements of many Israeli male customers
whom I met with during the research. They return regularly to Pattaya, some of
114 Guy Bruker
them have been returning to Pattaya every year for the past 15 years; one of them
arrived for the first time two years ago and since then had visited six times already.
Others tell how they live modestly in Israel all year just so they can visit Pattaya.
Moreover, some men refer to themselves as addicts and see it as an addiction.
Me: What brought you to Pattaya? How did you hear about it?
Eyal: A friend from work told me about Pattaya.
Me: What did he tell you about the place?
Eyal: That there are dance clubs, girls, massages, so I came here alone for the
first time.
Me: When was that?
Eyal: Three years ago and that’s it, I have been here for four months straight,
and since then I return each year.
Me: Did you become an addict?
Eyal: Something like that, it’s some kind of drug. Everyone here knows each
other, a lot of people arrive every year.
It is evident that the experience in Pattaya has been deeply rooted in the per-
ceptions of the men for a very long time, and influenced their ability to create
relationships with women in Israel. Therefore, paradoxically, they can be seen as
indirect victims of sex tourism.
Yaron: It’s an experience on its own, no matter where you travel in the world,
it’s a place with its own experience. Really. After I visited here for the
first time, I sat in Israel for five months and I couldn’t get this place out
of my head, no matter what, like something hammered me in the head –
Pattaya, Pattaya . . . Crazy place.
Me: Did it influence your relationships with women in Israel?
Yaron: You may say that, because since then I haven’t made contact with girls.
My whole perspective on Israeli girls had changed, I don’t feel like dat-
ing Israelis. I see a girl and I miss the girls in Pattaya.
Sex tourism enhances for these men extreme patriarchal assumptions, which
impact their ability to create relationships with women in Israel, and their per-
spective on women in general. Still, we cannot ignore the fact that those men are
victims of the same patriarchal culture they are trying to preserve.
Omer: Since the first time I arrived here till today, I return here once or twice a
year, I live in Haifa, Israel, and for 17 years I have been visiting here once
or twice a year.
Me: Do you think it changes the way you perceive women in Israel?
Omer: It changed my whole life, why did it change my life? I’m 40 years old,
no kids, no family, nothing. Why? All the time, my entire life I’ve been
running after prostitutes. I fully believe that if I wouldn’t have known
Thailand, today I would have been with two kids and a family. Today
I look at my friends from school, 40 years old friends whose wives are
also 40 years old, in group meetings I see their wives and I say “good
for you”, I can’t actually say “good for you that you can be in bed with
the same person”, she looks like a grandma, it’s like going to a nurs-
ing home. You see, I can’t do it. Suddenly he lives with a 40 years old
woman after two births, it’s not the same anymore, here I’m used to 16
or 17 years old girls, if a girl aged 24 or 25 comes to me, I recoil, I don’t
get excited, straight away I start to ask questions. There are a lot of men
here that were part of normal family life, and after they came here, they
got divorced, they don’t live with the wife anymore, I have five friends
like that, that were married and after they came here they suddenly got
divorced and they are not living with their wives anymore, five – not
one or two. Suddenly they see, they live with a 50 years old woman, it’s
a grandma, it’s worn out, here they got used to being with 18 years old
girls.
The awareness to these consequences is not always clear or phrased by the men;
however, the consequences are definitely evident on the men who regularly arrive
here.
The life partner of the sex tourists

Bourdieu (2001) indicates a “soft” form of violence, violence that is conducted
on a social player under his consent. Symbolic violence is exercised indirectly,
mainly using cultural mechanisms, and it’s the opposite of more direct forms of
social supervision (Krais 1993).
David: I have a good family. My wife really understands me. We don’t talk
about it, but under silent agreement I come here with my friends.
I respect my family, my kids, my wife. I come from a united closed off
family in which this is the only interesting thing – what happens in the
family. My wife doesn’t satisfy me fully, as I need, so that’s what I do,
under silent agreement. I imagine that she is not stupid, she knows it.
I have high respect for her, I love her very much, she is the mother of
my children.
Me: This silent agreement of your wife, do you think it bothers her?
David: Let me tell you that she supports my travels, if this is where you go with
this.
Me: I don’t go anywhere, I just want to understand.
David: Don’t take it personally, the push is from her and I don’t believe that she
ever cheated on me or that she ever will.
Me: And would it bother you if she cheats on you?
David: Very much.
Me: So you actually say that men are allowed and women aren’t allowed?
David: Yes, I am a true Kurdish
116 Guy Bruker
“Hegemony” can be defined as a social situation in which those who are subject
to others adopt the values and ideologies of those in power and receive them
unquestionably. This situation leads to accept their place in the hierarchy as a
natural thing or as something that works in their favor. According to the men, the
wives whose husbands are sex consumers accept their place as a natural thing.
The wives also adopt the standards that determine their proper place under the
ruling of the masculine superiority.
The natural place of the wives, as the men present it, is the domestic domain,
in which the woman represents the “good family”. This meaning is taken from
a patriarchal culture that preserves the woman in the domestic domain. A foun-
dation for this perception can also be seen in the Jewish traditional origins, for
example in the verse “The king’s daughter is all glorious within” (Psalm 45:13a
[KJV]), which symbolizes the role of the woman as breeder and carrier of the next
generation. Thus, the men preserve the divided perception of feminine sexuality
and sexuality for fertility, and this is enhancing the total denial of the fertility
component in the sexuality of the Thai women.
Me: Your wife knows.

Yossi: She knows.
Me: Did you talk to her about it?
Yossi: I told her she is the only one in the world – her and God. She probably
imagines I have girlfriends. I go to Pattaya for 21 days, so where am
I going to put it? The fish tank?
Me: How do you think she feels about it?
Yossi: She doesn’t feel good about it but she won’t let go of me. You don’t throw
away a winning horse, you see. She has a good life. My wife looks good
for her age but she is already a dead horse.
The negative impact of prostitution on the relationships with the life partners and
inside the family is well displayed in the research of Zeglin (2014). Note that the
relationships presented allow the men to do as they wish, out of the assumption
that everything is legitimate. This assumption stems from the structure in which
these relationships are carried out. Relationships between the sexes in Israel are
not based on equality in most aspects. An example can be seen in David’s state-
ments regarding his wife’s response to his stay in Pattaya: “my wife’s salary
barely covers the electricity bill, so where would she go?” This example shows
the economical dependency of the wives on their husbands, since the society
offers them very few opportunities for economical independence (Aharon 2006).
On the other hand, or rather the same hand, the same society allows men to con-
sume prostitution in Thailand without any social criticism. It is evident that sex
tourism has a role in the process creating and establishing inequality between the
sexes in the family unit. Furthermore, as a social institution which reflects the
power structures in the Israeli society, namely capitalism and patriarchy, those
structures and their following ideology provide the men with legitimacy and
power to determine.
Women and Israeli society
The extensive evidence which is expressed throughout the article regarding long-
term influence of sex industry on men clarifies the notion that sex tourism is a
significant mechanism which infuses the patriarchal perception. This perception
influences not only those who are directly involved, but also many more women
who are not aware of the fact that they are victims of the sex industry.
Me: Do you think your relationships with girls here will affect your relation-
ships with women in the future?
Yoram: Look, I was back home just recently, and I couldn’t look at the Israeli
girls. I couldn’t because I understand the mentality here and the mental-
ity in Israel. At the moment, if I make a contact with a pretty girl back
home, I can’t stand her any longer, because of the mentality, the breaks
and the barriers. It has also really improved my self confidence, I will
return home and it will be like this: excuse me, if you want – alright, if
you don’t want – go on than, who do you think you are . . . the thing is to
squash the girl’s attitude, there is a limit for everything. Before that I was
so gentle with girls back home.
The influences of the sex industry and the perceptions that are established in men
are very significant. One example is the case of Erez Efrati, a former bodyguard of
the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) Chief of General Staff, who came out from a strip
club, in which he celebrated a bachelor party, and implemented the reality from
the club, by brutally raping a girl that got in his way. The closeness of the visit in
the club and the rape sharpens the context. However, the time dimension is not the
only factor. Other dimensions such as the intensity and duration of the experience,
the way they exist in sex tourism, lights up a warning sign for the entire society.
As it is clearly shown in the statements of the men:
Nimrod: It’s hard to go back home, because I want to take so many of the girls
with me. At first, when I got use to the fact that I can’t take each one of
them, I got crazy, and after that I started harassing young girls. Look,
after you have been in Pattaya, you can’t get it out of your head.
Many women who experience sexual harassment from men may not know its
origins, but one of them is rooted in Pattaya.
Udi: The first time I came here was 15 years ago, and every year I visit for two
or three months.
Me: Do you see it as something addictive?
Udi: Yes.
Me: Will it impact the way you treat women in the future?
Udi: In any way possible. Because of this bizarre life style of mine, I will
always treat a woman first of all as a prostitute.
118 Guy Bruker
The realization that the sex industry influences the culture in which we live, and
statements such as “I will always treat a woman first of all as a prostitute” should
resonate in our minds regarding sex tourism. For Turner (1973), when the tour-
ists return, they integrate in the society from which they came. However, here we
choose to further explore this return and examine the influence of the experience
in the liminal place of the culture to which those same sex tourists return.
Discussion
Connecting the framework which Turner (1973) has outlined with sex tourism
shows the extent to which each stage has its own influences and consequences.
This article indicates that both axles – the separation from the familiar, while pre-
serving Israeli features – exist simultaneously and integrate with each other. This
finding leads me to a conclusion that Israeli men realize the privileges of each
axle, when they feel a physical and normative distant from the familiar and at the
same time feel as “home owners” (Katsulis 2010). This unique situation is fol-
lowed by neo-colonialist practices which integrate space conquering and sexual
conquering. This occurs in accordance with radical feminist perspective which
builds the foundation for analysis of the link between intercourse and conquering.
This theory allows us to understand how sexual acts in Pattaya express the domi-
nance of the Israeli men over the sexuality and femininity of the Thai women, as
part of their autonomy.
Another main finding shows that the ambiguity which is present in customer-
prostitute meetings allows a wide range of constructions regarding their relation-
ship (Neal 2018). These constructions are stretched over a sequence – on one end
of it the prostitute is perceived by the men as merchandise, and on its other end
their relationship is constructed as mutual love. Since the ambiguity level in the
sex tourism industry is high, it seems as though nothing the average consumer of
touristic sex services would do will oblige him to accept that he is a sex tourist.
Based on the subjective perspective of the customers, I refer to prostitution as a
structured phenomenon and to sex tourism as a social institution. Consequently,
I wish to define sex tourism as structured prostitution, which is based on the prem-
ise that sex tourism is a social institution and sex tourists use it and as a result
facilitate its proliferation and development. The usage in this institution does not
depend on the interpretation of the individual using it. Any non-commercial defi-
nition of the relationship (love, friendship, flirting or mutual sexual attraction) is
undermined as a result of the distinct economic interest of the locals.
This structural perspective is part of the feminist perception which refers to
sexuality as social construction of the masculine power: It is defined by men,
is forced upon women and establishes the meanings of gender. One of the cen-
tral principles in this analysis perceives patriarchy as violence by men, as well
as organizations controlled by men against women. This kind of approach puts
feminism in the center and recognizes the sexuality of control and submission
as a crucial factor for the process of enslavement of women by men. In order to
understand the sex tourism, it’s important to note the meaning customers attribute
to their intimate relationships, as is evident from this article. However, in order to
politically handle sex tourism, it must be examined at the structural level, with a
global perspective. My analysis refers to the sex industry in Thailand as a social
institution, and thus allows perceiving the customers as active agents of the global
phenomenon which is patriarchal exploitation and control.
A central notion which this article clarifies is that the neo-liberal system not
only amplifies the economic inequality among the varied countries; it also leads
to its deepening between men and women, and between different social statuses.
Namely, the current globalization is facilitated by multiple articulations of neo-
liberal, patriarchal and ethnic oppression, which is based not only on gender, but
also on status, race, global location and age.
Nevertheless, it’s important to remember that the current age of globalization is
characterized by unprecedented movement of funds and people beyond borders.
Theories on international tourism indicate that inter-border tourism exists when
people with funds from rich countries travel to less rich countries, in search of
exotic pleasures. An increased concentration of wealth in rich countries means that
people – mainly men – can afford to travel as tourists in foreign countries, in which
they can enjoy other sites, and in our case, on the expense of “other” women.
At the same time, a situation is created in which it has gradually become impos-
sible for women in poor countries, or in poor areas inside that country, to work for
an average salary. This perspective, combined with the patriarchal mechanisms
deeply rooted in the culture, lead the way to the understanding that there is no dis-
tinction between women who are forced into prostitution and those who “agree”
to be exploited, when we recognize the wide range of poverty related coercion the
same way we recognize the force of violence. This conclusion becomes clearer by
the dependency theory, which can be directly linked to the proliferating sex tour-
ism industry in Pattaya. This industry exists and is preserved through a systematic
exploitation of poor countries by richer countries. The theory suggests that the
richer capitalist countries are externally expanding, and the poorer countries are
dependent on foreign funds flowing from the rich countries, in this case through
customers of the sex tourism industry.
The capitalist globalization presently includes trade of women in the most
unprecedented scope throughout history. Sex tourism in Pattaya reconstructs the
way in which the world operates – namely racism of the rich countries towards
poor countries, which is carried out though global imperialism. This article
emphasizes that the international political economy includes not just the side
which provides sex services – women from poor countries – but also and to a
larger extent, the demanding side – men from rich countries, who constitute the
foundation of the sex tourism industry. Therefore, the patriarchal system cannot
be perceived as separate from the global capitalist system, since gender-based
inequality is actually a result of an integration of these systems. Sex tourism
underlines the connection between patriarchal mechanisms and capitalist mecha-
nisms, since it is based on political-economical division between rich countries
and poor countries, combined with historical structures which support inferiority
and submission of women.
120 Guy Bruker
In my research, I indicate that globalization allows Israeli local expressions
in Pattaya, while noting the influences of Israel as an origin country of those sex
consumers on the experience in Pattaya. Additionally, the influence of the experi-
ence in Pattaya on Israel is clearly evident.
Much evidence emerges from the interviews regarding the long-term influence
of the sex industry on the men. These evidences sharpen the realization that sex
tourism is a significant mechanism which infuses the patriarchal perception and
influences not just those who are directly related, both men and women. This real-
ization cannot be measured quantitatively; however, those perceptions are deeply
and tacitly rooted. Also, it is likely that sex tourism has circles of influence which
resonate in the Israeli culture of origin in many directions.
Through locating and phrasing some of the cultural motives that allow these
men to become sex tourists, this work paves the way to understanding the connec-
tion between different levels of patriarchy (namely, in the family, in the country
and in the global system) and contributes a new dimension to a longstanding dis-
cussion which includes sexuality, gender, ethnicity and power.
In this work many notions arise; however, more than anything, it reveals and
emphasizes the existence of countless customers who fuel the market forces and
turn sex tourism into a profitable industry which perpetuates a systematic exploi-
tation and enjoys total immunity. The time has arrived to divert the attention from
the prostitutes to the customers, and not allow sex tourists to escape social criti-
cism and the law (Curley 2014; Serughetti 2013).
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Part III
Cultural aspects of
prostitution
7 Prostitution
Myth and reality
Tali Artman Partock and
Ruth Kara-Ivanov Kaniel
Introduction: reality and gender

A report commissioned by the Israeli ministry of Social Services in 2016 (Santo and
Karmeli 2016) showed that almost twelve thousand people were involved in pros-
titution, of which about a thousand were minors, and about five hundred were men.
The vast majority of them stated financial difficulties as their reason for turning to
prostitution. Immigrants entered the “profession” later in life than Israeli-born pros-
titutes, and as many as 48% of them had at least some higher education, and 13%
had post-graduate education, as opposed to 83% of Israeli-born prostitutes who did
not finish high school. According to a study presented to the Israeli Parliament in
2006, 80% of prostitutes – more than any part of the population – have suffered
physically violent assaults and rape, at least half of them committed by clients.
They also suffered more from addictions and psychiatric disorders (many of them
post-traumatic), and 70–90% had a history of child abuse and molestation (Gur
2008; Lotan 2006). This horrifying reality has not stopped the creation of a plethora
of myths about prostitution, most of which have nothing to do with the reality.
In this article, we will claim that thousands of years of Jewish thought and
practice contributed to the development of this fallacy. We will focus on the com-
plex dynamics of myths and reality in Jewish history and explore the way culture
creates various – sometimes even conflicting – myths about prostitution and uses
them to hide reality. Since we have no access to the “real life” of prostitutes in
the past and even not to the social apparati of their exploitation, another way to
achieve an understanding of their identities, choices and wishes is through myths.
These myths, we will argue, are not all negative. The myth of the prostitute may
simultaneously see the prostitute as a sub-human creature, and as an empowered
archetype. The various myths include those of the prostitute as a diabolic or divine
figure, the rich and the destitute prostitute, the righteous prostitute, and the pros-
titute as “heterotopic-site”.1
Feminist approaches to prostitution

Feminist approaches to prostitution were not immune to the wider interpretations
of Western culture at large. Even revolutionaries like Elizabeth Cady Stanton
were caught in the web of myth. In a powerful metaphor, she condemned the
126 Tali Artman Partock and Ruth Kara-Ivanov Kaniel
marriage arrangements of her time as “legal prostitution”. For Cady Stanton, the
fate of the prostitute reflected that of every woman, and prostitution mirrored the
social subordination of women in general. She was aware of how various estab-
lishments used the label “prostitute” in order to police all women, and to exclude
them from the public space (Gordon 2013). But as a “decent” woman who saw
prostitution as a threat to married and family life and a disease-spreading mecha-
nism, Stanton also created a barrier between “ordinary women” and “prostitutes”.
She, like many others, supported the legalization of prostitution, mainly to be able
to monitor prostitutes better (Sigerman 2001, 104).
Later theories, particularly during the second half of the twentieth century, were
caught between two opposing poles: condemning or supporting prostitution. Rad-
ical feminists condemned prostitution as paid rape, and as yet another mechanism
of the use of violent force masked as sexuality. These theorists and activists also
linked prostitution to a patriarchal power structure which leaves women very few
options to support themselves financially, while encouraging them to think about
themselves as objects for male use (MacKinnon 1994, 73–81). These approaches
denied prostitutes any agency or choice, and interpreted prostitution as a result
of post-traumatic stress caused by early childhood sexual trauma, or of financial
imperatives. They also considered the experience of prostitution to be reflective
of the life experiences of all women (Cixous and Clement 1986; Dworkin 1987).
The other approach, represented by liberal feminists, argued that every woman
has the right to make the decision to become a prostitute, and that it might actually
be a lesser evil, taking into consideration the power structures of patriarchal soci-
ety. Through this prism, prostitution is a valid professional choice and feminist
efforts should be made to improve the lives of prostitutes and elevate their social
status. Some of the most outspoken representatives of this view were prostitutes
who wished to rewrite the history of prostitution, and to create a heroic narrative
of themselves (Roberts 1992). While refusing to view themselves as victims, they
also offered a new vocabulary, most notably the term “worker in the sex industry”
as a substitution for “prostitute”. Proponents of the liberal view have generally
relied on age-old myths about prostitution, while the radical views rejected the
myths of prostitution and aimed to reveal the realities of it.
Some feminists, like Simone de Beauvoir, saw prostitution as a way to tran-
scend gender roles in patriarchal society, as she wrote:
[T]hese women, who utterly exploit their femininity, create for themselves
an equal strand to that of men. Their sex is their entry point to the game, it
gives them away to men as objects, and through it they become subjects.
Using their sex they make their own living, like men, and moreover, they
live almost only among men, and are free in their behavior and conversation.
de Beauvoir (1971, 122)
This almost ideal description of prostitute as woman who is like a man totally
neglects the price these women have to pay for their liberties. In a way, de Beau-
voir depicts prostitution as a weapon of the weak, and performs an intellectual
Prostitution: myth and reality 127
backflip: in order to rid oneself from the confinement to one’s gender, one must
use their sex and sexuality.
The legacy of the ancient world: concepts of prostitution

Understanding prostitution as a profession is the legacy of Christian Europe, and
in many ways also of the Greco-Roman world. In classical Greece, it was the leg-
endary Solon who opened state brothels, while simultaneously severely punish-
ing adultery with married and freed (non-slave) women, creating the dichotomy
between the angel of the house and the whore of the street that is with us still
today (Kapparis 2003).
Prostitutes in Athens were one of three groups. The hetairai were well-
educated free, freed, or foreign women who chose their clients carefully, usually
taking a role closer to that of a mistress, or kept woman, selling their compan-
ionship rather than only their bodies (Hetairai, Hammond and Scullard, 1970,
512; McClure and Faraone 2006). A second class, auletrides, was that of musi-
cians, acrobats, and actresses who performed sexual services in addition to their
art. The lowest ranks of prostitutes were the porneai: “simple” street or brothel
whores, usually slaves, robbed of their income by their owners or pimps. Pros-
titution in the Roman world was not much different. It also had city brothels,
not always owned by the state, in which slaves, freed slaves, and condemned
criminals of the lower strata of society were forced into prostitution, as well as
higher-ranking prostitutes who were driven to the trade by financial need, and
were self-employed. Hetairai were also to be found. Both the Romans and the
Greeks shamed the prostitute, but did not criticize the men who bought their ser-
vices (Pomeroy 1975, 88–92; McGinn 2004, 7–13). This double standard would
change only slightly with the rise of Christianity, which found fault not only with
the prostitutes themselves, but sometimes also with the men using their bodies;
but we shall return to this idea later.
In the rabbinic circles of Judaism (first to seventh centuries), we find a mix of
biblical and Greco-Roman influences. Much like the Romans, the rabbis do not
condemn men who visit prostitutes, unless they are obsessed with them. In many
cities in the Roman provinces of Palestine and Syria (which include the Galilee),
we find written evidence of the existence of brothels, which were surely visited
by the local population. Rabbinic literature, tells us stories of various types of
prostitutes. Some of them were forced into the trade when taken in captivity, oth-
ers as prisoners of war.2 But we also hear of ordinary women who are forced by
their financial status to prostitute themselves, of women and men who prostitute
but once, of marriages for one night, and of other people who might perform an
act of prostitution, but who are not professionals, and above all, who do not adopt
prostitution as a stable identity.3 We see Roman influences even on the Jewish law,
which fixes a price for wedding contracts which must not be lower than 2 mina
(200 zuz) for a virgin and 1 mina for a widow or a divorced woman.4 According to
Lucian, 1 mina was the pay of an attractive virgin prostitute, but there were many
fluctuations in the value of currency in these times, and research estimates that 2
mina equaled 3–4 months’ pay for a simple worker (Satlow 2001). We read in the
Babylonian Talmud:
Although [the Sages] have enacted that a virgin collects two hundred zuz and
a widow one hundred, if he [the Husband] wishes to add, even a thousand, he
may do so. Rabbi Meir said: Whoever gives less than 200 (zuz) for a virgin
and 1 (mina) for a widow, it is not a marriage, but an act of prostitution.
b. Ketubot 5a
According to Rabbi Meir, when a man undertakes to give a virgin less than 200
zuz or a widow less than 100 zuz, their relationship is presumed (at least on the
metaphorical level) as an act of harlotry. This halakha is revolutionary, because it
blurs the very clear border in Greece and Rome between normative women and
prostitutes. On the one, it is clear that this law was formulated in order to defend
the rights of women in marriage, insuring that in case of divorce they would have
enough money to support themselves for a while, and prevent men from marry-
ing and divorcing frequently. But on the other hand, this law strongly implies that
there is no real difference between marriage and prostitution, but the price paid.
All women are sold, some for higher and some for a lower price.
In this context, we must note that from the Bible onwards, the Hebrew verb and
noun for prostitution are used to describe every kind of extra-normative sexual
practice, thus opening an enormous space for both social and linguistic myths.
In addition, it is the Hebrew Bible that introduces to Western culture the divi-
sion between prostitution as metaphor and as sexual practice. Rahab and the two
prostitutes who appealed to King Solomon to decide which one of them was the
real mother of a baby were professional prostitutes; however, the books of the
prophets are rich in metaphors of prostitution, substituting sexual prostitution for
idolatry and adultery.5 For example, the people of Israel who forsake God are
described as prostitutes (Gruber 1992; Halbertal and Margalit 1992; Ogden 1994;
Aster 2012). We have to acknowledge that in the metaphorical use, it is clear that
an act of adultery takes place, rather than an adoption of a stable identity or pro-
fessional commitment to prostitution.
The biblical metaphor of prostitution places on the same plane Rahab, who was
actually loyal to God; the “Kadesh” and “Kedesha” mentioned in Leviticus as
forbidden; and even Yael, who sacrifices and prostitutes herself for the salvation
of the Jewish people, and did so only once. These biblical heroines, as we shall
see later, blur the line dividing normative women and prostitutes.6 Moreover, the
Bible gives birth to the myth of the “heroic prostitute”, such as the mothers of the
lineage of King David – Tamar, Ruth, and others – who were willing to make a
sexual and social sacrifice for a greater good.
The Bible also introduces a new source for the degradation related to prostitu-
tion. While in Athens the source of the degradation was lower social status and
lack of citizenship, in the Bible, the shame associated with idolatry transfers into
the realm of prostitution, and borrows its metaphorical impact. While the Bible
first used the word “znut” to describe transgressions of normative sexuality, it was
rabbinic literature under the Roman and Sasanian empires that developed it, and
influenced Judaism most (Fishbane 1998; Ilan 1999, 115–214).
Rabbinic literature knows the Bible very well, of course, but turns the moral
and theological tables more than once. Rabbinic literature judges these sexual
transgressions more severely than it does professional prostitution, as the rab-
bis were more interested in the sexual practice and purity of the majority of the
population than in those on the fringes. Yet the mixture of the “degraded” with
the “heroic” introduced by the Bible enables the rabbis to imagine prostitution
and transgressive sexual acts as a vehicle of the holy and as means to salvation.
Thus we hear stories of new kind of prostitutes: not “temple prostitutes”, which
are the ancient world’s alleged “holy whores”, but “saint whores”, whose actions
changed the fate of the people of Israel. However, this characterization never
occurs in narratives about contemporary men and women, where these instead
serve to teach a didactic-religious lesson, or save one person, but never change
the destiny of the nation.7
Jewish myth and narratives on prostitution
Definitions of the myth

The word “myth” derives from the Greek mythos, and defines in Greek mythology
stories about gods – their births, struggles and deaths. Through the ages, additions
have been proposed to this basic definition, such as the structural understanding
of the “ritual process” through the theory of Victor Turner; comparative studies
of myths and archetypes, such as Jung’s readings; and Mircea Eliade’s empha-
sis on central themes appearing in all religions like the “myth of eternal return”
and others.8 Since in the Jewish tradition the general tendency is to deny anthro-
pomorphic descriptions of God, the classic biblical scholarship rejected the use
of the term “myth”. The most well-known example is the monumental project
of Ezekiel Kaufmann’s “Toldot Ha’Emunah Ha’Yisraelit”, in which he insisted
that the “myth” is identified with paganism, while the aim of biblical monothe-
ism is to combat idolatry and myths (Kaufmann 1961).9 This anti-mythological
stream started to lose its power mainly when Kabbalah scholars, beginning with
Gershom Scholem, brought it back into discourse. While Scholem claimed that
only the flourish of Kabbalah in the twelfth century indicated the “return of the
Myth” with its subversive and Gnostic assumptions, scholars as Yehuda Liebes,
Moshe Idel, Michael Fishbane, Ithamar Gruenwald, and others claimed that myth
is inherent to Jewish culture and part of the biblical and rabbinical literature, but
that it appears in new forms in every generation.10
Since the 1980s, the discussion of myths and new definitions of them are
prominent in Jewish studies, as well as the comparative study of religions (Segal
1999; Lorberbaum 2004). Some of these studies focus on the “divine narrative”,
while others expose hidden aspects of “archetypical heroes” and historical-
mythical figures like Moses, Enoch, Jesus, and Elijah, whose role was to medi-
ate between the human and the divine (Alter 1983; Cohen 1993; Schneider
2012). Some new studies have shown that biblical kings were perceived as divi
filius (the son of God) and were influenced by the kings in the ancient Near
East, a tendency that increased the similarities of the “mythical thinking” in the
ancient cultures.11 This shift in defining myth enabled new discourses not only to
arise but also to be re-evaluated. Thus, for example, rabbinic literature research
would not have advanced to its present stage without gender studies and feminist
theories.
From another perspective, Roland Barthes (1972) defined myth in linguistic
rather than thematic or phenomenological terms, and placed it in the present rather
than the past. For Barthes, myth is a sociological phenomenon embedded in lan-
guage. On top of de Suassure’s famous model of the signifier, signified, and sign
(de Saussure 1959), Barthes superimposes a second, mythical, meta-linguistic
layer, in which the linguistic sign functions as the signifier. This layer is necessary
because words tend to represent more than their simple sense. A wolf is never just
a gray furry mammal resembling a dog, but the big bad wolf, the lone wolf, etc.,
so that when we hear, say, a joke about a wolf and a lamb, we know who the bad
guy is. Barthes and Bakhtin, however, argue about the meaning of this. According
to Bakhtin (2002) and Morson and Emerson’s interpretation of his work (1990),
every word is already “populated” with its uses in the past and its context, with its
history, biased or not. Barthes sees this second layer of meaning as the naturaliza-
tion strategy of ideological pseudo-truths or utter lies, which serve someone or
something, normally in the political right (Barthes 1972).
“Prostitution”, “prostitute”, “whore”, and their synonyms are all words that
suffer from overuse. There is not a single myth related to them, but many, and
they reflect a crisis in the signifying mechanism. The concept of “prostitute” is of
special interest because the relationship between the signifier and signified in it
is unstable, and because of the wide gap between the sign “whore” in the linguis-
tic system and its signifier in the meta-linguistic system. In the mythical meta-
linguistic system itself, there is an instability in the signifier-signified link, because
the myth of “prostitute” involves at least half a dozen smaller myths: “the temple
prostitute” or “holy whore”, “the great whore of Babylon”, “mother of all evil”,
“the good-hearted prostitute”, “mother of all that lives”, “the repenting prostitute”
(for love, or for the love of God), the “manipulative courtesan”, etc. This means
that every time we hear the signifier “prostitute”, many conflicting, hyperbolic
metonyms and other concepts appear in our minds. The result of this linguistic
and meta-linguistic complexity is that it turns the word “prostitute” into an empty
signifier, and too full a signifier at the same time – in short, a paradox. We propose,
then, to turn to the history and the genealogy of the term and to expose some of
the pagan, Jewish and Christian layers that shape our consciousness until this day.
Myths on prostitution and “the myth of prostitution”

Based on the present discussion and the brief analysis of the development of
the term “myth”, we suggest that a suitable way to understand the context in
which prostitution functioned in Jewish antiquity is by studying its mythical
representations. Stories, homilies, and exegetical texts are our only windows to
the past. While we acknowledge the suppression that might be involved in mythi-
cal discourse, at the same time, our “return to the myth” is not just a compromise,
but may be a road to a deeper understanding of the “prostitutional reality”. As
Claude Levi-Strauss (1995a, 1995b) suggests, myth is a “structure” that empha-
sizes binary oppositions that exist in reality and which elucidate the mechanisms
of human existence. At the same time, the myth allows “transformation of struc-
tural oppositions” and reveals the “science of the concrete” (Hasan-Rokem 2000,
162–163; Segal 1990). Paul Ricoeur’s definition of the myth fits these paradoxical
relations between myth and reality:
Myth will here be taken to mean what the history of religion now finds in it:
not a false explanation by means of images and fables, but a traditional narra-
tion which relates to events that happened at the beginning of time and which
has the purpose of providing grounds for the ritual actions of men of today
and, in a general manner, establishing all the forms of action and thought by
which man understands himself in the world.
Ricoeur (1967); Idel (2005, 19–22, 148)
From this definition, we learn that the reincarnation of myths and the way we
retell old narratives reveal the reality from which the myth grew. In the psychoan-
alytic sense, there is no way to conceptualize “the repressed” but through signifi-
ers or “acting outs” through which the ancient text’s heteroglossy is revealed. The
myth sends us to the path of “the return of the repressed”, and with it to the return
of marginal voices which were silenced through history. These voices represent
the abject and the semiotic, according to Kristeva (1982). The prostitutes join the
power of horror and darkness, as well as the semiotic and feminine, and serve as
the opposite of the holy mother figure in this old misogynic dyad, as Margaret
Denike has shown (Denike 2003). For example, the story of Pentakaka that will
be discussed ahead gives voice to a real woman and her distress, paradoxically
through Pentakaka’s use of the myth of prostitution as a form of entertainment,
and the hetairai as a metonymy to all that is evil. The negative myth of prosti-
tution serves here as a vehicle for the manifestation of its reality. Even so, the
authentic voice of the woman is missing, and it only appears in indirect speech in
the male story teller’s narrative.
The paradox of too much talk and too much silence surrounding prostitution
is perhaps the foundation on which the entire Western perception of it stands.
As David Halperin and others showed, the first thing an Athenian citizen loses
upon the decision to prostitute himself is his right to speak in the assembly, and
so, actually, his voice (Halperin 1990). To this one may add the assumption that
“some things are better left unspoken”, exactly the things we wish not to know:
their price, and who pays it. With the Athenian assumption that one who is will-
ing to sell his body will also be willing to sell his soul begins a long tradition of
the degradation of prostitutes and the silencing of their voices, while creating an
ever-growing discourse about them.
The many faces of prostitution: from the abject to the sublime
Myth and reality are intertwined in a mysterious way in late antiquity. On the one
hand, the “prostitute” symbolizes the ultimate defiled or contaminated “object”;
but on the other hand, she may appear as a sacred and glorified “subject” in the
theological and exegetical contexts of rabbinic and patristic literature, as well
as the Bible itself. In the coming paragraphs, we will suggest a few models of
relationships between the sacred and the defiled or profaned prostitute: the model
of opposition – in which the prostitute is a symbol of defilement or a symbol of
evil, and the model in which the prostitute serves as the abject and as a space for
the sacred.
Not much can be learned about the practice of everyday life of prostitutes from
reading rabbinic and patristic literature. Descriptions of prostitutes in general are
rare, and always serve to make a point, which is not listening to the voice of the
prostitute herself. This is also the case with other marginal characters: the poor,
orphans, widows, converts, and, indeed, women in general. Rabbinic literature,
more so than patristic literature, can be read as an anthropological document, as
it describes real-life situations of people in the rabbinic circle as well as cases
brought before the Beit Hadin, the court of Jewish law. We will now try to follow,
in chronological order, some of the main channels of thinking about prostitution
in Jewish history, from the Bible to the Zoharic literature, and present the move-
ment between condemning, condoning, and even valuing prostitution.
Realities
The darker sides of prostitution
Among other perspectives, the Bible introduces prostitution as a symbol of defile-
ment and of all that is evil and fallen. This notion has already been explored
widely by scholars, thus we shall mention briefly two examples from the Hebrew
Bible and the New Testament which serve as the basis for later theological devel-
opments. Ezekiel 16 speaks of idolatry using the metaphor of adultery, and of
prostitution in particular. Israel is a saved baby and raised by God, who grows up
not only to betray Him sexually, but to fall into a moral and sexual abyss of mur-
dering their children and offerings them to her lovers. From a psychoanalytical
point of view, the abandoned baby may resort to all this for reasons different from
those the prophet suggests. He nevertheless notices the repetitive compulsion and
the source of trauma in her past (Pardes 1992).
Correspondingly to the biblical model, the New Testament’s “Great Whore of
Babylon”, traditionally deciphered as a symbol of Rome, and is also linked with
“the beast”, the dark side, Satan. The prostitute is a part of the apocalypse; she is
the mother of all whores and drinks the blood of saints (Revelation 17:1–8). Both
early Christianity and early rabbinic Judaism use prostitution as the opposite of
all that is good, and as a symbol of Rome’s deteriorated morals, in opposition,
of course, to the superior Christian and Jewish ones, respectively. Daniel Boya-
rin has shown how prostitution becomes a key metaphor in the Judeo-Christian
discourse. Judaism and Jewish men are depicted by him as a virgin in the virtual
giant brothel which is Rome. Christian martyr narratives, especially virgin martyr
narratives, reveal a similar view, with the Christian woman taking the place of the
Jewish man (Boyarin 1999). Other narratives, less mythical and metaphorical and
more realistic and tragic, appear in the Talmud in diverse perspectives. Of particu-
lar interest is a narrative found in the Palestinian Talmud, telling the sad story of
a woman almost reduced to prostitution:
In a dream that appeared to R. Abbahu, Mr. Pentakaka prayed that rain would
come, and it rained. R. Abbahu summoned him. He said to him: “what is
your trade”. He said to him, “five sins do that man [I] do every day, pimping
whores, cleaning up the theater, hiring hetairai, and bringing their garments to
the bath house, clapping my hands and dancing and banging cymbals before
them.” He said to him: “and what good deed have you done?” He said to him:
“One day that man [I] was cleaning the theater, and a woman came and stood
behind the pillar and cried.” I said to her “what troubles you?” and she said to
me: “that woman’s [I] husband is in prison, and I wanted to see what I can do
to free him,” so I sold my bed and cover and I gave the proceeds to her. I said
to her: “here is your money, free your husband but do not sin”. He said to him,
“You are worthy of praying and having your prayer answered”.
y. Ta’anit 1, 5
This short story hides much, but nevertheless reveals a lot. Nobody knows the
lives of prostitutes better than Pentakaka (literally, “five sins”). When he per-
forms the daily services for them, from dressing them, to washing and entertain-
ing them. It is the reality of prostitution, not its myth, which he encounters. He
knows of the wounds to be covered, of the filth to be washed, and of the broken
souls that need his dances and music in order to mentally survive. The tragic eve-
ryday life of the prostitutes is not revealed as such at first. Only when we discover
that Pentakaka is willing to sell his very few possessions to save the woman from
prostituting herself do we realize how horrible he finds the trade. The story is also
an example of the circumstances that drive women to prostitute, this woman’s
story is particularly tragic, because according to Jewish law, if she prostitutes
herself in order to redeem her husband they will have to divorce, because she
had sex with another man (Kosman 2007, 64–71). But even in this narrative that
explores the everyday practices of prostitution, the voices of the women are not
heard, not even that of the hetairai, who are supposed to hold higher social status
than the simple porneai. This story represents not only the moral evil of hiring
prostitutes by and of itself, but also the tragic lives of prostitutes, and in that it is
indeed unique.
But this strong rejection of prostitution does not dwell alone in rabbinic texts.
A more complex world view is revealed when the various meaning of the Hebrew
root zanah are considered. Once rabbinic literature forms the link between Znut
and Arayot, a new path is opened.12 What we are now discussing is not prostitu-
tion in particular, but all forms of sexual transgression and sexuality at large. We
showed earlier that a difference between an act of prostitution and of marriage
may lay on the sum of money paid, but the Jewish rights of marriage in late antiq-
uity explicitly refer to a sexual act, and a new point of departure for the discussion
of normative sexuality and prostitution is marked.
Marriage and prostitution

In Leviticus Rabbah 24, it is asked why the Leviticus chapters about the holy and
about sexual transgressions (arayot) appear one after the other. The answer to the
question is “whenever you find limitations on sexuality, you find the holy”.13 The
metaphorical holy of holies of Jewish religion is the “sacrament of marriage”,
a moment of holiness in every man’s and woman’s life, when God resides with
them. But even this moment is not free from the shade of the debased. According
to Jewish law, one must perform one of the following three actions before taking
a wife: declare that he “sanctifies” her to him, and a. give her a shtar (document)
saying he intends to marry her or b. gives her a sum of money as a promise before
two witnesses or c. has sex with her, lets her know that he thus sanctifies her, and
does so before two witnesses (not to the sexual act itself). After this ritual, the
woman is forbidden to marry or have any sexual relations with someone else, and
is allowed to marry him. This third type of marriage (“by intercourse”) is the trick-
iest, because of its liminality, and because it opens up a big space for drama and
misunderstanding. What if the couple only generally spoke of marriage before,
but the man did not utter the exact phrase he should at the time of intercourse?
What if the woman thought the sexual act itself was a promise of marriage, as it
is known as one of the three ways to take a wife? As Rabbi Ammi notices, it is a
matter of faith and trust (b. Ta’anit 8a). This situation is so complex it comes to
paradoxes such as the one we find in Genesis Rabbah:
Rabbi Abbahu said in the name of Rabbi Jonathan: The Noachides are cul-
pable for (adultery with) the married women, but not for (adultery with)
betrothed women. R. Jonah said in Samuel’s name: If a harlot was standing
in the street and two men had intercourse with her, the first is not culpable
while the second is, on account of the verse “Behold, thou shalt die . . . for she
has been possessed by a man” (Gen. 20: 3). But did the first intend to acquire
her through intercourse? Hence this proves that an acquisition is made by
intercourse for the Noachiodes, but not in accordance with the law.
Gen. Rab. 18:5
This situation is particularly interesting because it is not clear if the sexual act
between the woman and the first man can be considered a marriage, and hence
if it is only the second man that actually makes her into a whore. It is also worth
noticing that the woman’s intention is not clear. The text calls her a harlot, but
also considers the option that she is prostituting for the first time in her life. Mar-
riage and prostitution are not as far apart as they seem: sexual acts, promises and
money are involved in both. The difference is apparently of intention and name.
If one calls a sexual act a promise of marriage, it is one. But not everything is in
the name. For example, In the Babylonian Talmud, tractate Yoma, we see that the
name “marriage” is given to a practice we cannot but identify as prostitution:
Whenever Rab came to Darshis, he would announce: “Who would be mine

for a single day?” Whenever R. Nahman would come to Shekunzib he would
have it announced: Who will be mine for a single day? But has it not been
taught: “No man should marry a woman in one country and then go and
marry a woman in another country” lest they [their children] might marry
one another with the result that a brother would marry his sister or a father
his daughter, and one fill all the world with bastardy to which the scriptural
passage refers: And the land become full of lewdness? – I will tell you: [The
affairs of] the Rabbis are well-known. But did not Raba say: If one has pro-
posed marriage to a woman and she has consented then she must await seven
clean days? – The Rabbis informed them before by sending their messenger
earlier. Or, if you like, say: They only arranged for private meetings with
them, because “You cannot compare one who has bread in his basket with
one who has no bread in his basket”.
(b. Yoma 18b, emphasis mine)
This discussion reveals the practices of marriage for one night of the most digni-
fied rabbis of Babylon, as they travel to different cities. Notice that the problems
that the sugiya poses are relevant to marriage, not to prostitution per se, which no
one seems to criticize. Needless to say, the women’s voices in these “marriages”
are never heard. This legalized form of prostitution, which enabled men to marry
and divorce within twenty-four hours is not originally a Jewish practice, but one
that is very well-known in the Sassanian Empire in which the Jews of Babylon
resided.
The prostitute as a prophet

Rabbinic literature based on the Bible may treat prostitutes as a vehicle of the
holy. Rahab of Jericho serves as the paradigmatic figure for this. In Rabbinic
literature, Rahab possesses prophetic power herself, marries after her conversion
Joshua, Son of Nun, and gives birth to a line of ten kinds of prophets and priests,
including Jeremiah. Prostitution is regarded as morally hazardous to men only
when it becomes an obsession, but in one story, we find that the practice and real-
ity of prostitution once more cannot be separated from myth.
A famous Talmudic story found in Tractate Avodah Zarah, which appears as
part of a lengthy discussion that links prostitution, martyrdom, idol worship and
even Christianity, begins this way:
It was said of Rabbi Elazar ben Dordia that there was no harlot in the world
he did not have relations with. Once, upon hearing that there was a certain
harlot in a town by the sea who accepted a purse of gold coins for her hire,
he took a purse of gold coins and crossed seven rivers to reach her. As he was
with her, she had flatulence and said, “As this gas will not return to its place,
so will Elazar ben Dordia never be received in repentance”.
b. Avodah Zarah 17a
Ben Dordia, who is shocked, appeals to the mountains and the heavens and the
earth, the sun, and the stars, to plead for mercy for him. But they tell him they
stand in need of it themselves, for they have been sentenced to total annihilation,
mainly due to the sins of mankind. Eventually, he places his head between his
knees and weeps aloud until his soul departs. Then a voice from heaven is heard,
proclaiming:
“Rabbi Elazar ben Dordia is destined for the life of the world to come!”
When Rabbi Judah the Patriarch heard this story, he wept and said: “Some
may acquire eternal life after many years, but there are also those who win it
within an hour!” And he added, “Not only are those who repent accepted, but
they are even called Rabbi”.
In this story, that has achieved wide scholarly attention (Kushelevsky 1996;
1999; 2005; 2010; Sigway 2002; Balberg 2008; Beer 1981; Lipschitz 2012;
Bar-Asher Siegal 2013; Artman Partock 2018), the prostitute is God’s agent
and the wise man is the “sinner”, though at least at the beginning of the story, it
is unclear what his sin is. The passion is described as being his passion, and its
fulfillment occurs verbally even before it is (not) fulfilled in reality. The purse
of gold coins is metonymic to the harlot’s body and its function as her source
of livelihood. It should be noted that Ben Dordia crosses seven rivers to reach
the harlot. When coitus between the sage and the prostitute does occur, it seems
to be fueled by “residual energy”, and her flatulence is essentially the burp
that follows a feast of lust that has already transpired through language. This
flatulence turns her, like the prostitutes who serviced Jews before her (Rahab,
Tamar, and others), into something approaching a prophet. The harlot depicts
Ben Dordia as having passed the point of no return when it comes to repent-
ance. He is panicked by the words of this prostitute, whom he accepts as a
spiritual authority.
Paradoxically, all of the figures in the story are equally guilty and innocent.
The harlot does not sin less or more than the man, but it seems as if there is no
threat hovering over her soul – or at least it is not mentioned. The forces of nature
are punished (theoretically, in Isaiah’s prophecy of wrath) due to the sins of “the
people”, which is represented here by the man, Elazar. The forces of nature are
unwilling or unable to help him, but by weeping, placing his head between his
legs and wailing, the gates of heaven open to him. He dies and is invited into
the life of the world to come (Artman Partock 2012). Prostitution is regarded as
morally hazardous to men only when it becomes an obsession, but in this story
we find that the practice and reality of prostitution once more cannot be separated
from myth.
Prostitution and the sacred-messianic redemption through
sexual sin
The most radical example of the unexpected linkage between prostitution and the
sacred lies in the analysis of the lineage of King David and the stories of its moth-
ers. The female dynasty of the House of David – starting with the Hebrew Bible,
through the rabbinic literature, and culminating in the homilies of the Zohar –
stands at the heart of the Jewish messianic Myth. The Messiah of the Davidic
dynasty, which the Talmud calls “the Messiah, son of David”, is actually chosen
due to the merit of his mothers and their extraordinary antinomian deeds. In all
the biblical stories about the Judean line, a constant theme repeats: the birth of the
redeemer son is preceded by scenarios of sexual transgressions and narratives of
prostitution, which are initiated by the female protagonists. These biblical scenes
underscore the dominance of the heroines, and it is their actions alone that cause
the birth of the sons and the formation of the myth of the birth of the Messiah.
The myth starts with story of Lot’s daughters, who clearly committed incest
with their father (Genesis 19); continues with Tamar, who disguises herself as a
prostitute and seduces her father‑in‑law Judah (Genesis 38); and ends with Ruth,
who goes to the threshing floor at night and seduces Boaz, a story that leads to the
birth of King David himself (Ruth 3).14 In the background of this dynasty, there
is the story of Rachel and Leah, two sisters who share, by means of a “bed trick”,
the same husband (Genesis 30–31), and the story of Bathsheba, which begins
with adultery and ends with the birth of Salomon, the son of David, the “smart-
est of all humans” and the builder of the temple (Samuel II:11–12, Kings I:3–9).
This female continuum is characterized by a “type-scene of promiscuity”, through
which the Judean dynasty is devised and established. These characters are joined
together in an explicit intra-textual biblical comment at the conclusion of the book
of Ruth:
Then all the people who were at the gate, and the elders, said, “We are wit-
nesses. May the LORD make the woman, who is coming into your house,
like Rachel and Leah, who together built up the house of Israel. May you
prosper in Eph’rathah and be renowned in Bethlehem; and may your house be
like the house of Perez, whom Tamar bore to Judah, because of the children
that the Lord will give you by this young woman”. So Bo’az took Ruth and
she became his wife; and he went in to her, and the LORD gave her concep-
tion, and she bore a son. . . . Then Na’omi took the child and laid him in her
bosom, and became his nurse. And the women of the neighborhood gave him
a name, saying, “A son has been born to Na’omi. They named him Obed; he
was the father of Jesse, the father of David”.
Ruth 4:11–17 (NRSV, emphasis mine)
Although this is a sequence of foreign women, who are gentiles for the most
part – Ruth the Moabite, Tamar the Canaanite or Aramaic, Lot’s daughters the
mothers of the nation’s Amon and Moab – these heroines symbolize the heart of
Jewish sovereignty (Biale 1997; Kristeva 1991: 75). Through the ages, their deeds
became an archetype of “female messianic praxis”. The Sages express in many
homilies glorification of the messianic origins. For example, they say in Genesis
Rabba: “It is written, I found my servant David (Ps. 89:21). Where did God find
him? In Sodom” (Gen. Rab. 50:10). Although David never was in Sodom, this
Midrash emphasizes that the story of his birth is not a shameful one; rather it is a
bold example of the link between “depraved behavior” and “the sacred”. Prostitu-
tion, incest, and adultery are associated with Sodom on the one hand, but at the
same time they symbolize messianic, divine holiness.
The rabbis do not hesitate to provide radical justification for the matriarchs of
the House of David, such as their statement, “Gedolah averah lishmah”.15 This
expression was first and primarily attributed to the story of Tamar – the known
and “noble” prostitute in the Bible, who became the mother of Perez and Zerah,
the ancestors of King David. This statement means that sexual transgression, if
performed with “right” and “good intention” like Tamar’s, is much greater than
a commandment performed with bad intention, or with no intention at all (Kara-
Ivanov Kaniel 2013). This statement applies also to the stories of Ruth, Lot’s
daughters and Yael, who are mentioned together in this same Sugiya/tractate, and
who share similar patterns of adulterous behavior. All are glorified for being “holy
prostitutes”.16
Another unique Talmudic commentary focuses upon the audacity of the biblical
Tamar and the noble women related to the dynasty of House of David in the first
centuries CE. In addition, the sitting of Tamar in “the opening of the eyes” (petaḥ-
enayim, in Genesis 38:14) is explained allegorically as bold and active seduction,
linking the “eyes” with blatant sexual behavior, and her claim to Judah that she
is “pure and available”. At the same time, this Midrash stresses that Tamar “cast
her eyes to the gate [petaḥ] to which all eyes are cast”, and prayed for divine help,
adding her wish to not leave the house of Judah barren and “empty” (re’kanit).17
God, in his turn, answers the Davidic Mothers and promises them messianic off-
spring due to their pure intention. For example, in Ruth Rabbah, God says: “Boaz
carried out his mission, and Ruth carried out her mission, [Naomi carried out her
mission]; now, God said, I must also do my part” (Ruth Rab. 7:7). This Midrash,
like many others, insists that there is an unknown cooperation between God and
the mothers of Davidic lineage. From another ironic Midrash, we learn that in the
time that Judah went to look for a foreign wife, and his brothers were busy with
the sin of selling Josef, God was busy “Creating the Light of the Messiah” (Gen.
Rab. 85:1).
As we have seen, these female narratives are described in rabbinic literature as
the fulfillment of divine effort for the birth of the messiah. But while the Sages
see these women merely as helpers and conductors of a divine plan, the Kabba-
lists innovatively see them as the cause and the basis of “Divine completion” and
“repair” (Tikun). According to the Zohar (thirteenth century in Castile), without
Tamar, Ruth, and Lot’s daughters, divinity cannot achieve its salvation. In a bold
reading, the Zohar compares Tamar to the Shekinah (female divine presence), and
describes in details her “licentious ways” in a few different passages.18 The Zohar
insists upon reading this story of prostitution not as a human narrative, but as a
divine journey, as well. The mystical literature is founded on the Talmudic com-
mentaries but develops them in innovative ways. The Kabbalistic interpretations
clearly enrich our understanding of the messianic enigma, while emphasizing the
role of the holy prostitutes in the redemption of divinity.
The Zoharic literature of the Middle Ages is an important junction of “the
mythical”, “the imagined”, and “the real”. The fact that prostitution is attributed
to the divine presence can be read in two (opposite) directions. It can be seen as
an exclusion of the human, female reality of prostitution, and thus repressing the
gender aspect even more. Alternatively, it can be seen as a new understanding
of reality, in which the Zoharic myth becomes as real – or even more real – than
reality. According to the second direction, divinity is the “source of all” – while
we, the humans, are just a reflection and imitation of the source. In this “upside-
down world” that seems to be a complete reversal of perception and reality, the
choice of the Kabbalists and their insistence upon gender and sexual definitions
and on antinomian trends attributed to God is striking. They could locate divin-
ity beyond gender hierarchies or sexual power structures. Instead, they chose to
describe the Shekinah as a prostitute, who must pass every year the test of harlotry
(Zohar, III 96a–97a), showing how prostitution is initial part of divine ritual and
“reality” and thus also of our reality and ritual (Kara-Ivanov Kaniel 2017; Koren
2011, 77–79).
Similar to other mythological prostitutes, the mothers of the Davidic line, for
generation after generation, repeats acts of seduction and promiscuity. Ironically,
these acts which seem to be only “subversive myths” actually form the basis of
Jewish national, messianic, and royal establishment and “reality”. This paradox
emerges as one of the main roles of the “Myth”, as Frank Kermode suggests:
“Fictions are for finding things out, and they change as the needs of sense-making
change. Myths are the agents of stability, fictions the agents of change. Myths
call for absolute, fictions for conditional assent” (Kermode 1996, 39). On the one
hand, Midrashic and Kabbalistic sources show bold justification and even sym-
pathy for the Davidic heroines, but on the other hand, this glorification must be
treated suspiciously since the myth – as we discuss ahead – may turn out to be the
polar opposite. Adoration of the “holy prostitute” might coexist with misogyny
and a fear of women. At the same time, it must be noted that these readings also
reveal male identification with the female characters, as well as an attempt to
grant mythical heroes with “subjectivity” that usually cannot be given to their
“real” female contemporaries.
The writers of these Midrashim chose to focus on the repetitive pattern of har-
lotry or sexual transgression and to use them as a model of redemptive behavior.
On the psychoanalytic level, we may read these stories of harlotry as a repeti-
tion of trauma, or in Freudian terms, as a “repetition compulsion” (Freud 1955
[1920]). At the same time, in this repetition, we can find a process of develop-
ment and “repair”, since each generation softens the level of sexual transgression
and expresses a sublimated pattern. If the first narratives in the chain emphasize
the myth of the mother “as a whore”,19 the last stories show her subjectivity and
agency. Through the justification of the Davidic genealogy, we learn about the
sharp edge where sin meets sanctity. In addition, all of these stories raise the ques-
tion of female liberation and choice. On the one hand, the acts of prostitution and
seduction by the mothers of the messiah must be examined in light of the repres-
sive situations to which these heroines of the Davidic dynasty are subjected. On
the other hand, in light of the fact that these were singular female initiatives that
were accorded divine encouragement that was reinforced in generations of Jew-
ish exegesis, we might also read them as an example of female empowerment.
These narratives raise an important principle that relates to the ethnic and national
identity of the Jewish people: that through the “other”, the stranger, and – for the
sake of precision – through the “foreign woman” who threatens and seduces, the
Messiah is born. The prominence of the heroines of the Davidic dynasty teaches
us that the foreign and gentile women are those who – by means of sexual sins –
establish the heart of Jewish royalty.
Conclusions
While the legacy of Athens was denying the prostitute’s subjectivity, and silenc-
ing his/her voice, the texts that we presented here show a more complex textual
reality. While it is true that most women we discussed are not always directly
heard in the texts, their actions speak for themselves. A woman may gain her voice
back, through three types of agency: by her own right, or through masculine or
divine mediation. While the biblical heroines of the Davidic line act on their own
initiatives, and speak for themselves, we also hear man speak on behalf of women,
conveying the life experience of women rather than men, such as in the case of
Pentakaka. At other times, we meet prostitutes who serve as divine agents (Rahab,
Ben Dordia’s prostitute), and with yet other texts, we encounter a completely
male-dominated perspective which speaks about prostitutes or through them, not
with them (such as the stories of the marriage for one night, or the ruling on the
sum of the marriage contract).
These mythical or quasi-mythical narratives are the loophole through which
we can explore realities of women in antiquity, as Jung (1965) said: “Myth is not
fictional, but is made of facts, which are regularly repeated, and can always be
observed. Myth is something that happens to people, and people have mythical
destinies just as much as the Greek heroes”. Otto Rank defines myth as a collec-
tive dream:
The manifestation of the intimate relationship between dream and myth – not
only in regard to the content but also to the form and motor forces of this and
many other, more particularly pathological, psychical structures – entirely
justifies the interpretation of the myth as a dream of the masses of the people.
(Rank 1959, 9)
This fascinating definition very well describes the paradox of the concept
of prostitution in the ancient and medieval Jewish world. On the one hand,
prostitution is identified with sin, idolatry, and evil, but on the other hand, we wit-
ness stories that empower and even celebrate certain kinds of prostitution. Jewish
culture, much like any other culture, needs the mythological character of the pros-
titute not only as an object of desire, but as a creating subject. This can be attested
in the stories we presented, which represent feminine experience and prostitute’s
voices. From the prostitute as a figure that brings to repentance and redemption of
men, through the Kabbalistic sermons on the Shekinah as a harlot, whose suspi-
cion of fornication is a precondition to the appearance of divine holiness.
We started our discussion with the report presented to the Knesset about pros-
titution in Israel, and we come back to it now: all the components that made
the actual report were somehow also already present in the mythical texts we
discussed, from the repetition compulsion of the baby-bride in Ezekiel through
the daily violence against whores which Pentakaka describes. Our discussion of
myths that glorify prostitutes or suggest that acts of sexual transgression may save
the nation does not wish to hide the horrible realities of prostitution. We attempt
only to reveal some of the cultural functions of the trope of the prostitute, in hope
that our society will be inspired by these insights and seek – through the myth –
new ways to make reality less horrific.
Notes
1 On the heterotopias as a locus outside realistic, everyday time, space and order, which
paradoxically helps society reinforce its norms and monitoring its members, see Fou-
cault (1986); in the context of prostitution, see Balberg (2008).
2 For prisoners, see Avot de-Rabbi Natan A 8; Tosefta Yebamot 8,2; Sifre Deu. 43; y.
Yebamot 10, 3; b. Avoda Zarah 17b-18b.
3 Genesis Rabbah 18; b. Yebamot 90b. An example for a marriage for one night, see b.
Yoma 18b. Discussion ahead.
4 M. Ktubot 4, 7; b. Ketubot 5a.
5 Usually the term “prostitute” indicates female deviation: “Because the woman is sub-
ordinate to the man, she is always the subject of zanah. Zonah . . . designates a woman
who has sexual intercourse with someone she does not have a formal covenant rela-
tionship. Any sexual relationship of a woman outside the marriage bond or without a
formal union is termed fornication” (Lowenstamm 1954, Vol II, 935–938). See also
Botterweck and Ringgren (1974); Milgrom (2000, 1516–1517).
6 On these stories, see Frymer-Kensky (2002); Fuchs (2000); Niditch (1979); Van Wijk-
Bos (1998).
7 The well-known story about “Heruta”, who disguised herself as prostitute in front of
her husband, R. Hiyya in b. Kiddushin 81b, might serve as a good example of this
notion. On the tragic end of this story, see Fraenkel (1990); Hevroni (2005, 174–211);
Kosman (2007, 83–93, 238–239); Shinan (1996). On the connections between Heruta
and Tamar, see Doniger O’Flaherty (2000, 267); Naeh (2001, 23); Rosen-Zvi (1999,
81).
8 See Eliade (1962, 2005); Jung (1965, 1969); Levi-Strauss (1995a, 1995b); Turner
(1969). For a comparative study of the term and its wide appearances in the ancient
cultures, see Kirk (1970), 42–83.
9 A discussion of Kaufmann’s attempt to prove that the biblical monotheism straggles
against the “myth”, which characterizes as idolatry, see Knohl (2007, 40–62).
10 Fishbane (1985); Gruenwald (2004); Idel (2004); Liebes (1993, 1–65; 1996, 192–209);
Scholem (1941, 1980).
11 Knohl (2007); Lorberbaum (2011); Schneider (2010). It must be noted that the “hero
pattern” focuses mainly on male characters in Freud’s, Rank’s, and Campbell’s writ-
ings on the “family romance”. For a discussion of the goddess role in the hero pattern
of Raglan and Dundes, see Segal (1990).
12 On this subject, see Artman-Partock, Tali. The trope of the repenting prostitute in
monastic and in rabbinic literature [forthcoming].
13 Lev. Rab. 24:6.
14 Although Ruth’s seduction of Boaz upon the threshing floor seems just a “sublimation”
of the pattern, expressions as “then she came softly, and uncovered his feet, and lay
down” [emphasis mine] (Ruth 3:7) echo back to the story of Lot’s daughters, and that’s
how they were understood in the Jewish exegesis.
15 As it is said in the Babylonian Talmud: “Both Tamar and Zimri committed adultery.
Tamar committed adultery and gave birth to kings and prophets. Zimri committed
adultery and on his account many tens of thousands of Israelis perished. R. Naḥman
b. Isaac said: “Greater is a transgression performed with good intention than a com-
mandment performed no intent” [emphasis mine] (b. Nazir 23b; b. Horayot 10b).
16 On these stories, see Van Wijk-Bos (1998); Niditch (1979); Fuchs (2000); Frymer-
Kensky (2002). For a discussion of the similarities between Mary, and the female mes-
sianic narratives in the Hebrew Bible, see Kara-Ivanov Kaniel (2014, 2017, 219–252).
In later Christian traditions, we may find mutual development of the connections
between the desecrated/profaned and the sacred. For more on Zoharic narratives on
Sara as opposed to Eve and influenced by the Immaculate Conception of Mary, see
Koren (2010).
17 Gen. Rabbah 85:7. For a discussion of this Midrash and other rabbinical readings of
Tamat story see Kadari, (2008); Kara-Ivanov Kaniel (2017).
18 For example: Zohar III, 71b. Kara-Ivanov Kaniel (2017, 146–172).
19 According to Freud (1957), in the oedipal psyche, even the mother is a whore, as she
betrays the son and fornicates with his father.
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———. 2012. The appearance of the high priest: Theophany, apotheosis and binitarian
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3. Semeia, 42: 37–67.
8 Feminist Israeli cinema
Fighting prejudices against
female prostitution1
Yael Munk
Prostitution has been represented on screen from the very first days of cinema,
already at the end of the nineteenth century as part of the urban space (Campbell
2006, quoted in Almog 2011, 472). Indeed, reflecting the cinematic medium’s
ability to objectify the body, the woman – the ultimate Other – was to become a
target of the camera’s gaze. The gender scholar Sandra L. Bartky defines the sex-
ual objectification of women as a phenomenon that occurs “whenever a woman’s
body, body parts, or sexual functions are separated out from the person, reduced
to the status of mere instruments, or regarded as if they were capable of represent-
ing her” (Bartky 1990, 26). Thus, it is no coincidence that the camera, too, opted
for the dismantling of women’s bodies on screen and turned these into a favorite
object2: the latter corresponded to a recurrent male sadistic fantasy that was to
find its way into the pornographic genre. Objectification of the woman’s body,
however, was not limited to the visual aspect of pornography. It also occurred
in the cinematic themes and narratives, and in the cinematic subtext that should
be interpreted according to the nation’s values and norms. This article, written
from a feminist point of view, seeks to reveal the evolution of the representation
of prostitution in four Israeli feature films from different periods, from the old
patriarchal, chauvinist days of early Zionism to the fresh point of view of women
filmmakers in the third millennium.
David Ben Gurion, Israel’s first Prime Minister, famously said: “We will know
we have become a normal country when Jewish thieves and Jewish prostitutes
conduct their business in Hebrew”.3 Presumably, prostitutes existed before the
establishment of the state, but no one took the challenge to represent them on
screen. Therefore, prostitutes did not exist in early Israeli films that were propa-
ganda films, intended to promote the desired values of the new society. What
was to become Israeli cinema’s dream of normalization – to become a people
like any other people – was not yet envisaged, and the representation of an ideal
moral society on screen was partially facilitated through the reductive represen-
tation of women, erasing all sexual traits.4 Since then, however, Israeli women
have become predominant on screen, not only as protagonists but also as pro-
tagonists’ creators, i.e., women filmmakers who nowadays enjoy international
success. How have all these changes affected the representation of prostitution
on the Israeli screen? Do we finally have a chance to see on screen the life
148 Yael Munk
and story of a Jewish prostitute in a socio-political or even feminist context?
Finally, what can we learn from the chronology of these representations, not
only regarding the gender conflict and ethnic discrimination but also about the
influence of international trends and globalization on Israeli women’s cinematic
representation?
The discourse on prostitution in Israeli cinema automatically leads to an ethnic
issue: the Mizrahi issue. For a long time, the Mizrahi Jews, those Jews originat-
ing from Arab countries who immigrated to Israel soon after the state’s independ-
ence, were subject to discrimination, not only regarding their civil rights but also
regarding their value at the eyes of the nation. In her pioneering book Israeli
Cinema: East/West and the Politics of Representation (2010), film scholar Ella
Shohat pointed at the Mizrahi discrimination on the Israeli screen, a discrimi-
nation that encompasses various aspects, including that of gender. The Mizrahi
woman in early Israeli cinema was given only two, antithetical, roles: the mother
or the prostitute. On the one hand, the mother’s role more or less echoed that of
the traditional Ashkenazi mother (the traditional Yiddish mamme), caring and
cooking for her many children. Though her character was depicted as simple
and totally devoted to her family, she was sometimes shown when still young
and attractive in exceptional situations of adultery, as if to say that the Miz-
rahi woman’s sexuality was incontrollable. The representation of this attitude on
screen contradicted the conservative and reserved religious approach to sexual-
ity amongst Oriental Jews. But Israeli cinema created the Mizrahi woman in a
perpetual sexy mood, even when no specific subject was around.5 The Mizrahi
prostitute therefore was an extrapolation of the image of the working-woman
who herself was an exception in the Mizrahi family,6 conceptually embodying
all the dangers of women’s independence and representing a clear threat on the
patriarchal family. As a result, Mizrahi working women and Mizrahi prostitutes
in early Israeli cinema shared the common status of a social outcast, as they were
both excluded from their family and from the Ashkenazi hegemony.7 This situa-
tion was to change when Mizrahi feminists began formulating their thoughts, as
did the late Vicki Shiran in her article entitled “Deciphering the Power, Creating
a New World”. She writes:
Gender, ethic and very often class oppression all come together in the life of
the Mizrahi feminist, and she finds herself fighting on several fronts: Against
the oppression of men, against the communal oppression of Ashkenazi men
and women and against those who oppress and exploit the working class.
Further, the Mizrahi feminist is also aware of her location as an oppressor by
virtue of belonging to the Jewish majority that is suppressing the men and
women of the Arab-Palestinian majority. All this demands her the ability to
understand a complex picture of the world and critically look upon herself
and her actions, to move between the borderlines of various clashing identi-
ties, and mostly to create a new world while non-violently understanding the
old, oppressive one.
Shiran (2002)
Feminist Israeli cinema 149
More than a decade later, these words are still relevant to the condition of the
Mizrahi woman, in general, and are even more relevant when it comes to the rep-
resentation of the Mizrahi prostitute in Israeli cinema. It should be said that Israeli
cinema did not invent the Mizrahi prostitute. She existed out there, just like the
Ashkenazi one. But by duplicating the Orientalist imaginary vision of the Oriental
woman’s voluptuous, sensual body, it contributed to the formation of her specific
sexual stereotype, an image that was to contaminate the discourse of the Israeli
public sphere and somehow last in Israel until today. According to this stereotype,
the Mizrahi woman is victim of her unrestrained instincts and consequently driven
to prostitution like an addict to drugs. Moreover, according to this vision, no one
is to blame for her shameful situation since she is the one who chose the posi-
tion of victim. In fact, from the very beginning of prostitutes’ representation on
Israeli screen, this discourse blamed the Mizrahi woman for her situation and thus
removed all social responsibility for the prostitute’s misery. As this article will
show, this discourse has finally begun to improve, thanks to women filmmakers
who through the films, act as agents of social change in Israeli society.
Queen of the Road: how Israeli cinema re-invented the

Mizrahi prostitute
One of the films Shohat recognized as paradigmatic of the Mizrahi prostitute’s
representation was Menachem Golan’s now famous melodrama Queen of the
Road (Malkat HaKvish, 1971) (Shohat 2010, 144). Nothing in the film’s opening
sequence hints at its ethnic subtext. It begins with a bird’s-eye view showing a
man running from an abandoned building in the middle of nowhere. He enters his
car and drives away. Immediately afterwards, a blond woman begins to run after
him, but in vain. He is gone. The camera abandons the high angle and straightens
in order to show the crowded adjacent street in a big city, probably Tel Aviv. There
the woman ceases to run, stops a taxi, and leaves the city. The next sequence
opens in what seems to be peripheral Israel, with large and uniform buildings. The
taxi stops somewhere there.
The woman on the run is Margalit, an Israeli prostitute of North African origin
who has come all the way from a peripheral “development town”8 in the Israeli
south in order to make a living in the big city, by working as a prostitute.9 In this
scene, her character as a prostitute wears a blond wig to meet the Western fantasies
of Israeli men. In the course of the narrative, she will get rid of it and try to live
a normal life, with her own real dark hair. Margalit, however, known as Margo,
works in what Hollywood has referred to as “the world’s oldest profession” and,
according to Hollywood’s moralistic approach, which largely influenced Israeli
cinema in its first decades, she will be marked forever as such. Indeed, Margo
meets a young man who lives on a kibbutz, falls in love with him and envisages,
for the first time in her life, having a family and living a normal life. Her past,
however, follows her, and, after discovering she is pregnant, she is gang raped,
following which she gives birth to a retarded child who remains a permanent bur-
den on her life, preventing her from moving on to a better future.
150 Yael Munk
In the early 1970s, the destiny of Margo, the eponymous Queen of the Road,
summarized all the prejudices about Mizrahi women and prostitution. These prej-
udices, which were propagated through cinematic imagery, included a percep-
tion of a combination of exotic beauty and limited intellectual qualifications that
entitled those women to work in only one profession: prostitution. Moreover, as
this film shows, this prejudice also included a prediction of the impossibility of
a brighter future, as if to say that the desolate life that characterized the Mizrahi
woman from the beginning of her trajectory in the south of the country could
never change. On the contrary, according to the narrative, it was to be repeated and
multiplied in different versions, as reflected in the birth of Margo’s retarded child.
Today one can say that Queen of the Road was the first Israeli film that dared
to deal with the Israeli prostitute’s condition. Its approach, however, was tainted
by the stereotypes of the time: the exotic Mizrahi woman was presented in it as
dispossessed of any property except her body, while this same body was sup-
posed to carry out the impossible mission of taking her out of poverty. Interest-
ingly, Israeli cinema research has often classified Queen of the Road as a Burekas
film,10 a reading that enabled the disclaiming of any social responsibility by the
Israeli policymakers of the time, since the Burekas films, often regarded as social
comedies, promoted the optimistic ideas of the Israeli melting pot. No viewer at
the time asked himself in real time (and, in a way, even today) if the protagonist
would have chosen to join the world of prostitution if she would have been offered
a way out of it by the state. On the contrary, by accepting Margo’s destiny as a
fact of life, it enabled the internalization of the Mizrahi prostitute stereotype, a
stereotype that was to be repeated under various configurations in later Israeli
films, until its complete deconstruction in Keren Yedaya’s Or, My Treasure (Or,
2004), as this article will demonstrate.
Dead End Street: an intellectual reflection on prostitution

Ten years after Queen of the Road, the same actress, Gila Almagor, was given
another cinematic role in the context of prostitution, in young director Yaki Yosha’s
film, Dead End Street (Kvish LeLo Motza, 1982). The film, based on a true story,
offered a more complex narrative engaging with the social and moral implications
of prostitution. It told the story of Alice, a 17-year-old prostitute who was born
under the Israeli name of Aliza in a small town in the south of Israel11 and while
deciding to work as a prostitute, adopted a more Western-sounding name in order
to attract clients (similar to the blond wig of Margo in Queen of the Road). While
serving a jail sentence, she receives a unique opportunity to redeem herself by
participating in an Israeli documentary about prostitution. She is not asked to do
much, except to be herself and recount her life in front of the camera. At first sight,
it seems that the film’s production has given her a kind of second chance: in order
to create more convenient conditions for the production, she is invited to live in the
director’s home with his wife (played by Gila Almagor), who happens to be the
film’s producer. Alice collaborates with the two in an extraordinary way, revealing
on camera all the ins and outs of growing up in poverty and alienation, including
the “solution” she had found in prostitution. Her story touches the director and he
becomes sexually attracted to her, a situation that makes his wife jealous. The lat-
ter decides to take revenge on her protagonist by sending her back to the streets.
She tells her that the production has completed shooting and that she now has to
leave their home. After having experienced the taste of a decent life, after having
understood the enormous personal and emotional price of prostitution, Alice is con-
demned to return to her previous life, which she now realizes is a nightmare. At the
end, shortly before the documentary is due to be screened, Alice commits suicide.
The film questions whether there is a difference between the two kinds of
exploitation; in other words, if sexual abuse is comparable with or can even be
considered as the outcome of cinematic voyeurism. Interestingly, Dead End Street
targets the other kind of exploitation, not that of regular “clients” of prostitu-
tion, but rather of well-bred humanistic citizens who ostensibly wish to solve
the prostitution problems by sophisticated means, such as making a film about
the subject to raise public awareness. As opposed to the self-righteous documen-
tary, however, the feature film reveals the hypocrisy behind the good intentions,
especially as reflected in the dynamics between the couple and Alice. Her coming
into their life reveals that something is profoundly missing in it, and she becomes
that something that will maybe revive their relationship. Director Yosha tells the
viewer that although Alice has been chosen as the film’s subject because of her
social complexity, she represents more than that. This is what the husband, Yoram,
realizes after finding out to his great surprise that he is sexually attracted to her, an
attraction that seems to contradict all social conventions that control his society
according to which the poor remain poor and the rich remain rich, and the Mizra-
his never reach the hegemonic Ashkenazi world.
This is why the encounter between Alice and Yoram represents the potentiality
of an unexpected crossing of the tracks that should never have happened in a well-
controlled, segregated society. The moment it happens, it can only lead to catas-
trophe, a catastrophe that takes place at the film’s end: Alice, who understands that
she will never be able to cross the tracks and live in the pleasant world she has
just experienced, is seen walking again along the highway at night. In capitalistic
Israel of the 1980s, there is no way out of prostitution, even if you are willing to
cooperate with the re-education system.
By raising all these questions around the complex topic of prostitution, Yaki
Yosha achieved an intellectual tour de force. The Israeli spectator could no longer
ignore the terrible life of those women doomed to work on the streets. However,
in contrast to the film’s international success, it was relatively ignored by the local
critics12 and, consequently, by the local public. Dead End Street remains one more
station in the Israeli debate on the image of prostitution and its future.
Promised Land: the Israeli angle on globalization

and prostitution
Many years separate Yosha’s Dead End Street from Amos Gitai’s sensational
Promised Land (HaAretz HaMuvtachat, 2004). During these two decades, Eastern
152 Yael Munk
Europe had opened up its frontiers to the West and a large number of Eastern
European men and women had left their countries and emigrated with the hope
of achieving a better life, even if temporary, in the West. This quest for a decent
income has also reached Israel, which represented in the eyes of these immigrants
a place of prosperity. Besides the Jewish immigrants who came to Israel under the
Law of Return (hok ha-shvut), a law that gives the Jews the right to live in Israel
and gain citizenship, most of the illegal immigrants (men and women) who tried
to enter Israel are non-professional workers. One very common scenario revealed
that they had received an attractive proposition in their home countries, followed
by the horrendous awakening to the realization that they were part of human traf-
ficking.13 Amos Gitai’s Promised Land deals with the end of the dream of several
young, unwitting, Estonian girls who illegally entered Israel through Egypt, only
to be sold as prostitutes, and their initiation into this trade of the flesh. The film
opens with a typical orientalist vision of a camel caravan against the background
of the Sinai desert at night. The sun has not yet appeared or it has already set and
those sitting on the camels are women, though the viewer cannot see their faces.
Soon after, as they all sit around a fire camp and speak in Russian whereas all
the men surrounding them speak Arabic, the viewer will realize that they do not
understand why they are in the desert and expect to move soon to some other
destination. As they talk, the Bedouins look at the girls and evaluate their beauty.
At the end of their discussion, one of them comes, takes one of the girls and rapes
her. She does not say anything to the other girls but the looks on their faces reveal
their growing fears. Soon they will cross the border and be led to the Israeli side,
from which they will make their way to the economic capital, Tel Aviv, where the
women will be sold as merchandise after a thorough inspection of every inch of
their bodies. Stripped of their individuality, these anonymous girls will look for
any signs of human warmth, and through friendship and solidarity will attempt to
resist their tragic destiny. Gitai’s unique vision of this Israeli underworld becomes
a denunciation of a world of capitalism and globalization in which the perpetra-
tors are Israelis, and the victims are poor Eastern European girls. These men, who
trade mercilessly in helpless women, represent the modern world of which Israel
had wanted to become a part, and succeeded in doing so.
The film is about Israel’s fulfillment of the capitalist dream. Gitai, however, is
a political filmmaker, a fact that is discernible in his long camera movements that
reveal the context in which the horror takes place; and thus he uses the case of
prostitution in order to denounce not only these women’s terrible world, but also
the dangers of blindly following globalization, fascinated by the trade of objects
and goods and not differentiating between people and objects.
The film focuses less on individual destinies but, rather, deals with a group
of foreign women who do not understand the language and have no legal status
from which to express their miserable condition. It is true that this topic, Eastern
European prostitutes in the West, is not typical to Israeli society; but the fact that
it has been detected inside the local world14 is significant for an understanding of
the changing nature of Israel – a country born out of high ideals that has gradu-
ally succumbed to capitalist powers. In this sense, Promised Land is an extension
of the argument that was presented in Yosha’s No Way Out, except that this time
the Eastern European prostitutes have replaced the North Africans. The dream
of making money and living a decent life in an ever-growing capitalist world
remains the same; but the protagonists have now been replaced.
And there is another difference between Gitai’s film and the previous ones: the
brutality with which the women are treated. It is clear that such brutality and vio-
lence towards prostitutes has always existed, as can be understood from the rape
scene in Queen of the Road. What is exceptional, however, is that this violence
now takes place at the city borders or in other liminal spaces, since this trade is
becoming more common and internationally widespread (Promised Land depicts
trafficking both in Israel and in the Palestinian authority, where the women are
sold for the highest price). In other words, although violence and inhumanity have
increased in Israel, this major change does not seem to have affected the way
that ordinary Israelis experience their daily life. This persistence of violence in
everyday life in Israeli spaces was to be the main focus of Keren Yehaya’s Or, My
Treasure.
Or, My Treasure: or, back to the Mizrahi prostitute

The final film text about female prostitution in Israeli cinema that I chose to review
here is Keren Yedaya’s debut film, Or, My Treasure (2004). As I shall show, this
film is by far more complex and sophisticated than the three previously discussed
films, partly because of its realistic style and partly because it is the first Israeli film
about prostitution made by a woman who is considered today, after her two later
features Jaffa (Kalat Hayam, 2009) and That Lovely Girl (Harchek Me’Headro,
2014) as one of Israel’s leading female directors. This fact is certainly reflected
in her camera work and in her storytelling, but also in its correspondence with
previous Israeli films on the subject, including the previously mentioned Queen of
the Road. Keren Yedaya, who contends that her approach to cinema was partially
influenced by one of the mythological Burekas directors, George Ovadia (Utin
2008, 102), returns to one of its favorite subjects – the Mizrahi prostitute and the
dead end her life has led her to. But now the point of view is solely feminine and
inter-generational, as will be shown.
The film Or, My Treasure opens with the adolescent protagonist, called Or
(Hebrew for “light”) arriving at a hospital to take home her mother, Ruthie (played
by the late Ronit Elkabezt). The narrative offers no explanation of her background
or the reason for the hospitalization. The situation in which a mother and her
daughter hug one another closely in a taxi, enables director Yedaya, however, to
offer a perfect setting for hinting at the narrative’s particular logic, according to
which we are witnessing a kind of dysfunctional family in which the roles have
been inverted and the teenage daughter has become her mother’s caretaker. As
soon as they reach home, the viewer learns about the miserable and neglected
world in which the two live. This world is characterized not only by poverty but
also by the chaotic organization of scattered clothing and objects. Against this
background, the mother’s slumped body, well framed by Yedaya’s fixed camera,
154 Yael Munk
expresses the abandonment of someone who seems to have given up. The viewer
learns through the dialogue between mother and daughter that the mother has long
been a prostitute and, like the Mizrahi prostitute discussed previously, she cannot
see another way to make a living for her daughter and herself. Having been in the
business for so long, she cannot imagine a way out, and like Margo and Alice, she
believes that prostitution is the only role she can fulfill in society.
But as opposed to the other two, she has a teenage daughter who loves her and
believes in what she has been educated to in modern Israel: equal opportunities
for all. Against this background, Or will attempt to save her mother from the
violent streets, either by helping her financially with the little money she earns
collecting bottles around the city, cleaning the stairs of her apartment building and
washing dishes in a restaurant at night, or by arranging for her to work as a cleaner
in a rich family’s house. Towards the end of the narrative, Or decides to sell her
body to the landlord to whom her mother owes the rent. Since she does not feel
disgusted or shocked after the act, she decides to continue and addresses an escort
service in the south of Tel Aviv. She is soon sent to her first client, a middle-aged
man who hosts her in his bedroom. In a feminist approach, the filmmaker reverses
the scopophilic tradition and shows him completely naked in front of a mirror
whereas Or is shown only from her back. The act itself is not shown on screen
and the sequence continues as Or meditatively sits in a café before she returns
home only to find that her mother is preparing to another night in the streets. She
begs her to stay home, promising her that they will find ways to cope with their
financial difficulties, but her mother does not listen. Ruthie is finally seen walking
in the street at night with a provocative outfit, and Or runs after her, vainly implor-
ing her to come back home. When she realizes that she has no chance to cure her
mother from her addiction, she calls the escort service and asks for another job.
The film ends with a long close-up of Or, minutes after she has arrived at a bach-
elor party, sitting on a bed as her clients are waiting downstairs. Like a hopeless
disease, the heredity of prostitution has proven itself once again. And though her
body is still young and healthy, the director implies that, by analogy, her body will
soon resemble that of her mother. The mother/daughter relationship thus creates a
tragic compulsive pattern of repetition, focusing on the woman’s body and chal-
lenging the spectator’s traditional voyeuristic position; because in this film, our
looking at these women’s bodies turns us into accomplices to their victimization.
In his article “Recycled wounds: Trauma, gender, and ethnicity in Keren
Yedaya’s Or, My Treasure”, Raz Yosef (2009) contends that Ruthie represents
the post-traumatic condition of the Mizrahi woman in Israeli society, that same
society which has condemned these women to a life of disgrace and poverty.
He writes: “I would like to argue that Or is a critical Mizrahi feminist film that
exposes the hegemonic social gaze as a political mechanism of power and vio-
lence that terrorizes the Mizrahi female body” (ibid., 47).
I partly agree with Yosef. The choice of two leading Israeli actresses of Mizrahi
origin – Ronit Elkabetz and Dana Ivgy – definitely hints at Ella Shohat’s critique
of the Mizrahi discrimination in Israeli cinema, a critique already formulated in
1988 in her article entitled “Sephardim in Israel: Zionism from the standpoint of
its Jewish victims”, in which she describes the establishment’s efforts to erase the
culture of Mizrahi Jews, even before they arrived in Israel. Moreover, she con-
tends, when they arrived to Israel, they “were largely settled in Ma’abarot, remote
villages, agricultural settlements, some of them emptied of Palestinians” (Sho-
hat 1988, 18). Furthermore, she contends that “The [Zionist] system relegated
Sephardim to a futureless bottom” (ibid., 19). But in Or, My Treasure, the tragedy
of the Mizrahi “marked woman” is inscribed in the narrative’s background, and
only those familiar with the history of prostitution on the Israeli screen would
recognize in it the historical dead end that condemned Margo and Alice. In the
narrative itself, however, one would not recognize this pattern: mother and daugh-
ter live in the center of Tel Aviv in an ethnically mixed reasonable neighborhood.
The only hint at their miserable condition is inside their home, as if to say that the
Mizrahi prostitute has grown older and tired, and now she can hardly work. The
protagonist’s home in the center of Tel Aviv, with Ashkenazi neighbors, empha-
sizes the fact that the film does not acknowledge overtly the Mizrahi trauma of
social exclusion. Like in any critical text, it exposes the facts and the viewer has
to find ways to decipher the message, a message conveyed by endless repetitions
of the exploitation of the Mizrahi female’s body.
In this sense, Or, My Treasure is a political film: while at first sight, it seems
to follow the earlier Israeli films that represented prostitution in a voyeuristic
way, it in fact subverts them. Therefore, though the film ostensibly deals with the
futureless destiny of Israeli prostitutes, a fate repeated from generation to genera-
tion, devoid of any intervention from the establishment, it is mainly a film critical
of two essential features in the previous Israeli cinematic depictions techniques
of prostitutes: objectification and voyeurism (Mulvey 1975). In a feminist act of
resistance, director Yedaya refuses to adapt herself to the conventions used to
depict the world of prostitution, and instead, presents a new kind of intimacy
in the world of “marked” women, an intimacy that characterizes a universal
mother-daughter relationship. This intimacy between Ruthie and Or turn them
into subjects, independent of the Israeli male’s gaze. Thus, in spite of the fatalistic
sequence closing of Or, my Treasure, one can realize the eye of a female film-
maker behind the camera. Yedaya designates a new way of discussing the issue
of prostitution, a one which refuses to participate in the voyeuristic game and
instead, introduces the prostitute as subject. As if to say: if prostitution is not about
to disappear from the world and from the cinematic screen, let’s at least change its
representation and give these women the right to be cinematic subjects.
Conclusion: changing the representation of prostitution in

Israeli cinema
Three of the four films discussed in this article relate to Mizrahi prostitutes and
their place in Israeli cinema. It seems that these women have become one of
Israeli cinema’s various conspicuous female archetypes. As time goes by, how-
ever, with the appearance of women filmmakers, the concept of the Mizrahi pros-
titute is being revised and challenged from inside the very world of cinematic
156 Yael Munk
representation. This is why Or, My Treasure, which offers an intimate gaze at a
single-parent family in which the mother is a prostitute, represents a turning point
in the Israeli cinema’s depiction of prostitution. It seems that this empathic point
of view could have been offered only by women’s filmmaking.
Notes
1 I would like to thank my research assistant, Sigal Yona, for her contribution to this
article.
2 This fantasy is effectively depicted in a later film, Jacques Katmor’s A Woman’s Case
(Mikre Isha 1970), which, although inspired by the French iconography of Jean-Luc
Godard, manifested an extremely misogynist attitude. According to Ne’eman, the pro-
tagonist’s attitude can be explained by the trauma of the Israeli soldier who, in his
intimate interaction with women, re-experiences the loss of his companions-in-arms
(Ne’eman 2011, 72). But Ne’eman’s tolerant approach in fact hides the profound
misogynistic character of Israeli males in Israel’s early days.
3 This contention is at times attributed to Israel’s national poet Haim Nachman Bialik.
See Weinberg (2017).
4 Two famous representations of women on screen tell the whole story: in the clas-
sic Hill 24 Does Not Answer (Giv’a 24 eina Ona) directed by Thorold Dickenson, a
woman takes upon herself the mission of accompanying the three brave warriors who
together fight for the Jewish State’s independence. However, whereas these men are
widely described through their own stories and their own voices, the woman is not only
silent but also remains anonymous until the film ends with the death of the four on the
eponymous hill. In the case of Baruch Dinar’s They Were Ten (Hem Hayu Assara), the
only woman who accompanies the nine men on their pioneering adventure in the desert
land of Palestine is given a name, Mania, but she is the only one to die. And though her
death does not occur during the fighting, she is given a heroic dimension since she dies
while giving birth.
5 As it is the case in Menachem Golan’s Fortuna (1966), there the main protagonist who
lives in a remote southern town keeps opening the windows at night, wearing a light
nightgown, symbolically cooling her body. Moreover, the film’s title was translated
into English as Seduced in Sodom, a title that though relatively coherent with the plot’s
location in the Sodom mines, used the connotation of sin and sexual perversion to his
advantage.
6 Hanna Azoulay-Hasfari’s autobiographical melodrama Schur (1994) provides an
excellent example of this reasoning: when the younger sister tells her mother she wants
to work at the local factory, her “mad” sister’s reaction is “You’ll get pregnant”.
7 This double exclusion is well demonstrated in the character of Mimi, the prostitute in
Ephraim Kishon’s popular film The Policeman (HaShoter Azulai, 1971). When asked
if she pays any taxes, Mimi says that the shame is enough of a punishment. When
questioned if her father knows, she replies miserably “what father?” To enact this role,
Ashkenazi actress Nitza Shaul adopted a noticeable Mizrahi accent.
8 Peripheral towns were often referred to as “development towns” (Ayeret Pituach).
These new settlements were built in Israel during the country’s first decade in order to
provide permanent housing from the large influx of immigrants from Arab countries
and Holocaust survivors from Europe who arrived to the newly established country.
These towns – the majority of which were built in the Galilee in the north and the
Negev in the south – were designated to disperse the country’s population and create a
continuum of Jewish settlements.
9 Interestingly, the actress, who is not of Mizrahi origin, is Gila Almagor, one of the
leading actresses of Israeli cinema, whose autobiography as a daughter of Holocaust
survivors was made into a film, Eli Cohen’s Avya’s Summer (1988).
10 Burekas movies are a specific Israeli genre that deals with the ethnicity gaps between
Ashkenzi and Mizrahi Jews. At first sight simple and humoristic, the Burekas can also
be read as the first films that highlighted the segregation of Mizrahi Jews and their
remoteness from any position of influence. Moreover, these films largely contributed
to the creation of the Mizrahi Jew stereotype as unintelligent and lazy.
11 Although the film does not mention her ethnicity, one can assume she is a Mizrahi.
The irony is that the role is played by Anat Atzmon, daughter of Shmuel Atzmon,
the founder of the Yiddish spiel theater, who has become identified with Ashkenazi
culture.
12 This was not the first time that Yosha’s films were coldly received by the local critics.
His three previous films – Shalom (Shalom, Tfilat HaDerech, 1973), Rocking Horse
(Sus-Etz, 1978) and The Vulture (Ha’Ayt, 1981) – were all ignored by the local critics
because they dared to deal with Israeli national taboos, the most iconoclastic being
The Vulture, for which the Israeli censorship cut several scenes because it revealed the
cynical industry behind the immortalization of Israel’s war casualties.
13 As Olga Gershenson and Dale Hudson note, an image of the Russian Jewish immigrant
emerged as a new “other” of Israeli cinema during the 1990s, often conflated with an
image of a non-Jewish sex worker. At this point, “she appears in multiple films and
television dramas . . . it is difficult to find an Israeli film that does not feature a seduc-
tive or bizarre ‘Russian’ woman as at least a minor character” (Gershenson and Hudson
2007, 303).
14 This same issue can be seen in a later Israeli feature film, Eyal Halfon’s What a Won-
derful Place (Eize Makom Nifla, 2005).
References
Almog, Shulamit. 2011. This is the story of prostitution. HaMishpat, 15(2): 471–508 (in
Hebrew).
Bartky, Sandra L. 1990. Femininity and domination: Studies in the phenomenology of
oppression. New York: Routledge.
Campbell, Russel. 2006. Marked women: Prostitutes and prostitution in the cinema. Wis-
consin: University of Wisconsin Press.
Gershenson, Olga, and Dale Hudson. 2007. Absorbed by love: Russian immigrant woman
in Israeli film. Journal of Modern Jewish Studies, 6(3): 301–315.
Mulvey, Laura. 1975. Visual pleasure and narrative cinema. Screen, 16(3): 6–18.
Ne’eman, Judd. 2011. The lady and the death mask, in M. Talmon and Y. Peleg (eds.),
Israeli cinema: Identities in motion (70–83). Austin: The University of Texas Press.
Shiran, Vicki. 2002. Deciphering the power: Creating a new world. Panim – Culture Soci-
ety and Education, 22: 15–22 (in Hebrew) (www.itu.org.il/?CategoryID=521&ArticleI
D=1415&Page=1, accessed: July 21, 2018).
Shohat, Ella. 1988. Sephardim in Israel: Zionism from the standpoint of its Jewish victims.
Social Text, 19/20: 1–35.
———. 2010. Israeli cinema: East/West and the politics of representation. London: I. B.
Tauris. (Revised Edition).
Utin, Pablo. 2008. The new Israeli cinema: Conversations with filmmakers. Tel-Aviv: Res-
ling Publishers (in Hebrew).
Weinberg, Haim. 2017. The social unconscious of Israeli Jews: Described and analyzed
by an Israeli living in North America, in E. Hopper and H. Weinberg (eds.), The social
unconscious in persons, groups and societies. London: Karnak Books.
Yosef, Raz. 2009. Recycled wounds: Trauma, gender and ethnicity in Keren Yedaya’s Or, My
Treasure. Camera Obscura: Feminism, Culture, and Media Studies, 24(3) (72): 41–71.
9 Male prostitution, morality
and dissident pleasures
Critical analysis of an Israeli
client’s public confession
Gilad Padva
Can sex for money be liberating? Some sex industrialists, porn producers and
adult entertainment workers, as well as performance artists – straights and
gays alike – enthusiastically support commercialized sex and consider these
practices as countercultural, dissident and often pleasurable activities for both
parties. Popular – albeit controversial – media icons, e.g., Larry Flynt (a porn
entrepreneur and the founder of Hustler magazine who was shot by an oppo-
nent of Flynt’s public struggle for legitimation and legalization of pornogra-
phy), Hugh Hefner (a porn entrepreneur and the founder of Playboy magazine
and clubs), Annie Sprinkle (a former prostitute and porn actress who became
a performance artist and independent, self-identified feminist filmmaker), Cic-
ciolina (a porn star and stripper, and a former member of the Italian Parliament
who represented the Radical Party) and Michael Lucas (American gay porn star
of Jewish-Russian origins who established the gay porn company Lucas Enter-
tainment), publicly perceive commercialized sex as manifestation of free will,
free choice and free speech, and reinforce “sex work” as desirable populariza-
tion of sexual democracy and sexual pleasure for all majorities and minorities.
The global sex industry often refers to diverse adult entertainment: from strip-
tease clubs to hard-core pornography; from exotic dancers and go-go boys to
streetwalkers; from erotic phone call services to brothels and hustlers. Yet, all
these practices of adult entertainment are involved with commercial uses of the
human body for explicit sexual purposes, whether the stripped, permeable bodies
are merely photographed or physically penetrated by voracious clients. Catherine
A. MacKinnon (1989) insists that “Each violation of women – rape, battery, pros-
titution, child sexual abuse, sexual harassment – is made sexuality, made sexy,
fun, and liberating of women’s true nature in the pornography” (327, emphasis
added). Hence, the self-glorification of commercialized sex and the praise of trade
bodies are heavily criticized by feminist scholars who object to the sex industry
and its diverse oppressive practices.
Whereas female prostitution is often (albeit not often enough) a part of the
political, social, communicational and therapeutic agenda, male prostitution is
particularly underrepresented in mass media discourse. Female prostitution is
publicly debated, particularly when shocking cases of trafficking in women, mur-
ders of prostituted women and attempts to legalize prostitution are covered by
Male prostitution, morality and dissident pleasures 159
the mass media. Feminist protest and public confessions of prostituted girls and
women in the press, television and cinema also contribute to the public discourse
of female prostitution. In contrast, the issue of prostituted men in Israel is rarely
discussed by the Israeli media and society. Even in academic research, studies of
prostituted male adolescents and young men (until 21 years old) are quite rare,
particularly in social work sciences (Snell 1995), although evidence about world-
wide male prostitution has been dramatically increased in recent decades (Arye
and Barrett 2000).
One of the reasons for the limited and highly stigmatized discussion of male
prostitution is its association with a variety of myths and popular stereotypes
about prostitution and homosexuality (Browne and Minichiello 1994, 1996;
Davies and Simpson 1990; Snell 1995). Policy makers in the health and social
care administrations in different countries still refuse to recognize the quantity
of prostituted males in their countries (Leichtentritt and Davidson 2005, 485).
In their global survey, Mann and Tarantola (1996) asked the authorities of public
health in different countries to estimate the number of prostituted local men. The
survey indicated conspicuously low numbers (from “We have no single man who
is prostituted,” as China claims, to France’s admission that at least 10 percent of
the French prostitutes are males). It is difficult to conclude whether this low num-
bers reflect reality, denial or lack of information. Significantly, most of the Middle
Eastern countries did not respond to this survey (Mann and Tarantola 1996), and
this makes any estimation of the number of prostituted men in Israel a difficult
task (Leichtentritt and Davidson 2005, 485).
Yet, Toda’a’ Institution (an Israeli representative of the International Abolition-
ist Federation for research and struggle against prostitution and global trafficking
in women) suggests that there are about 10,000 prostituted women and men in
Israel; one out of four prostitutes in Israel is a men or a boy (according to the
7th Protocol of The Knesset Committee for Promoting Women’s Status in Israel
2006). Hence, at least 2,500 men and boys in Israel are currently prostituted. Nev-
ertheless, many scholars stress that the number of young prostituted men and
young prostituted women is similar (Aggleton 1996; Flowers 2001; Khan 1998).
Therefore, there are probably about 5,000 local men and boys in Israel who sell
their bodies as main or secondary means of living (by the way, there is no evidence
for existent organized or self-employed prostitution in Israel aimed at women who
prefer other women).
Both Jews and Arabs are involved in the local male prostitution. Most of
the prostituted males in Israel belong to unprivileged groups of native Israelis,
new immigrants and refugees who find it difficult to be absorbed by the highly
bigoted Israeli society. The clientele of male prostitution are members of all
strata and socio-economic classes. Most of them are homosexual and bisexual
men. Additionally, a few heterosexual and bisexual women hire males’ bodies.
In contrast to female prostitution, however, male prostitution in Israel is not
conducted in brothels,1 and there is no evidence for systematic, organized smug-
gling or “importing” of prostituted men to Israel in a way similar to women’s
trafficking.
160 Gilad Padva
Like in other countries, male prostitution in Israel is mainly conducted in the
streets, public toilets and parks (mainly concentrated in Ha’chashmal Garden and
the old central bus station in Tel Aviv, Gan Ha’zikaron [Memorial Garden] in
Haifa, and it seldom appears in parks and gardens where most of the same-sex
sexual activity is voluntary). It is also mediated by agencies of “escort services”
for men seeking other men (and independent male sex workers) selling their body
by private appointments at the client’s home or in discrete apartments. Such pros-
titution is marketed to Israeli men and tourists by ads in printed media, colorful
free brochures, and about 10 Internet websites (these websites focus on hetero-
sexual prostitution but include special sections of male prostitution, and only a
few of these websites are exclusively targeted at gay male clientele), integrating
text with pornographic film excerpts and pictures of male nudity.
“Escort services” for men who prefer other men are also marked by explicit or
implicit messages in some of the most popular Israeli gay chat and dating web-
sites, where the prostituted men usually use coded messages, e.g., “professional
massage in mutual nudity,” “professional, cozy massage by top, well-equipped
man,” “for those in the know,” “looking for sponsor,” “beneficial meetings,” “for
pay,” “gigolo” or the sign “$$$.”
Israeli criminal law does not distinguish between men and women who are
involved in prostitution, and prefers the non-gendered term “human being.” In
both cases, the law does not forbid prostitution and purchasing of sexual services,
but only punishes sexual intercourse with male or female minors, prostituting
another human being or living on her/his profits, holding a place for prostitution,
pimping etc. (Israeli Penal Code 1977).
A report published by a Canadian committee for research of sex crimes against
children and youth (later called “the committee for sex crimes”) in 1984 claims
that little is known about the circumstances in which boys and young men
become prostitutes (Committee on Sexual Offences Against Children and Youth
1984). Among the explanations for this social phenomenon: problematic back-
ground of poverty and distress, physical and sexual injuries during childhood and
irresponsible parents and caregivers. According to some controversial theories,
people of particular social, economic or ethnic backgrounds are more likely to
become prostitutes than the fortunate others who grew up in different circum-
stances (ibid., 948).
Likewise, Allen (1980) analyzes the tragic psychosocial background of male
prostitutes: many of them experienced broken homes, lack of affection, indiffer-
ent or hostile mothers and fathers, hostile stepfathers, poor educational history,
deprived socio-economic status, poor work history “and little or no vocational
skills” (401). Some of the male prostitutes in Germany, France, Holland and
Britain are immigrants from Eastern Europe and refugees from other continents
who escaped ethnic collisions (Phua 2005). Many young immigrants in Western
Europe experience immense difficulties when they try to earn their living and to
be integrated with the local communities, such as poverty, alienation and discrimi-
nation. These problems often stimulate the prostitution of young men.
In Israel, which is an immigrant society, some of the prostituted boys and men
are newcomers who experience many difficulties in adjusting themselves to the
local society. Among the Israeli organizations who help boys and young men who
have been prostituted is Beit Dror,2 which offers a shelter to gay, lesbian, bisexual
and transgendered youth who were excluded from home because of their sexuality
and/or became street boys; Elem,3 an association which focuses on youth at risk;
and Shanti House,4 which assists many youths.
Sex work or sexed exploitation

Despite the cultural accumulation and the social and political achievements of
the gay male community in Israel from the mid-1970s to the late 2000s, the com-
munity avoided, for decades, a discussion of the commodification of sex, the
legitimization of gay pornography and the implication of male prostitution which
exists at its margins. At the early 2000s, an independent LGBT media appeared,
including magazines and news websites, culture, entertainment, literature and dat-
ing services consumed by hundreds of thousands of users. These contents are
produced by gay-identified entrepreneurs, and they are particularly useful because
of the often underrepresentation of gay issues in mainstream media. The increased
communal discourse also stimulates critical perspectives that undermine popular
axioms in the local gay community (e.g., body fascism, role models and the image
of gay elderly) which are rarely discussed by mainstream media.
Condemning male prostitution is not part of the consensus in gay communities
around the world. Queer scholars have different perspectives about male prostitu-
tion and its relationship with the gay community. The disagreement about this issue
is manifested by an entry about this subject in the pro-gay encyclopedia Youth,
Education, and Sexualities (2005) titled: “Prostitution or sex work.” The author
Voon Chin Phua claims that what he calls “sex work” of lesbian, gay, bisexual
and transgendered youth is related to three legal issues: homosexuality, sex work
and age of consent, which varies greatly from one society to another. Moral and
religious perspectives influence the social consideration of these legal issues and
the level of tolerance as much as non-gay self-identification of numerous clients.
As such, the politics of LGBT youths’ sex work is concerned with a spectrum
of opinions, from efforts to save the youth from the sex trade to attempts at under-
standing the lives of sex workers and commitment to finding ways to empower
sex workers in negotiating a safe work environment (Phua 2005, 656–657). This
controversy oscillates between a perception of prostitution as daily degradation
and extremely dangerous addiction to the opposite perception that supports assis-
tance to those who wish to get out of this oppressive circle and necessitates leg-
islation against pimps and sex clients; and a different perspective that observes
prostitution as “sex work” and perceives prostitutes as free-willed “workers” who
develop their own legitimate career and commercialize their bodies and erotic
abilities for serving a legitimate human need, and their occupation should not be
condemned – but rather protected and even celebrated.
162 Gilad Padva
A lively ideological discourse on male prostitution in Israel initially appeared
when Ziv Tidhar published on April 23, 2009 a controversial article in the Israeli
Internet website gogay.co.il (when Tidhar’s article was published, it was the most
influential informative and cultural resource for local gays, lesbians, bisexuals
and transgendered people) titled: “Don’t call me a whore.”
Tidhar is one of the most significant and articulate spokespersons in the local
queer community, an architect and radio announcer who works for the Israeli
army radio station (Galei Tzahal) and several advertising agencies. He is also
known as an artist, curator and musician, who admitted that he used to invite
escort boys. In his article, Tidhar states that he refuses to be ashamed of consum-
ing sex services. His confession provoked an intensive debate regarding paid sex
in an all-male community which still fights hostility and outer and inner homo-
phobias and is highly obsessed with worshipping youth and body fascism. This
research focuses on the media discourse of Tidhar’s article by reexamining the
politics of same-sex desire and the blurred boundaries between sexual freedom
and the sex industry, ethics, aesthetics and sexual practice as reflected in Tidhar’s
article, his opponent’s response and hundreds of highly emotional comments.
Escort boys, commercialized satisfaction and the

client’s angst
At the beginning of his article “Don’t call me a whore,” Tidhar complains that sex,
which once he could easily get, has become difficult, exhausting and frustrating for
him. He stresses that it is not because of his look: “Atraf [the most popular dating
websites in the Israeli gay community in the 2010s] was, and still is, full of men
who are much more handsome and fit than me,” he confesses, and adds: “Extremely
overweight or skinny, low or very hairy, extroverts and introverts, polite or rude,
men with tiny penis or monstrous cock – they all fuck all time or rarely fuck or
never fuck because of thousand reasons. There’s nothing new about it” (2009).
Tidhar adds that “this need” (original quotation marks) has many faces, as it
can be momentarily or different. Hence, he objects to clichés about the culture
of “emotionless sex.” “There’s no sex without emotion,” he contends, “as there’s
no eating without swelling the food. A sexual act is an emotional act. Period.
All kinds of emotions.” He also glorifies and prefers to talk about “sex without
commitment” which he finds to be a “natural, accepted phenomenon,” but “some
like it, some don’t.” His difficulty in fulfilling his desire instantly emerges, he
explains, not only because of the particularities of his own personal taste but also
because of what he calls “life circumstances,” as he details: “the back aches or
the neck hurts, and there are periods of despondency causing limited erection and
limited or lazy motility.”
He explains that in his advanced age (at the time he wrote his article, he was in
his forties), he has no interest in compromising the fulfillment of his sexual needs,
whether they are fixed or dynamic. He claims that he compromised enough when
he was young. “But today,” he wouldn’t deny, his economic statues enables him
“to treat myself in moments when I truly, truly don’t want to compromise.”
He argues that his other options are limited and include only what he calls
“slow, exhausting and fatiguing with Atraf ’s chatters-platters [a popular Inter-
net website, particularly for all-male dating] or going all the long way to bar or
sauna.” He adds that the latter possibility (going all the long way to bar or sauna)
also costs money and necessitates a shower, driving, parking and a drink. All these
are nice and good, according to him, when he needs to meet people, chat and asso-
ciate with them, but if what is really needs is sex, here and now, there’s a way to
get it, a way that he defines as “cheap, quick, effective and respectful.”
Tidhar claims that some chatter in the leading dating websites of the gay com-
munity practically offers what he calls “sex as part of the ‘service’ ” (the word
“service” originally appears in quotation marks). He praises those who offer sex-
ual services: “Among them you’ll find charming people: intelligent, sexy, kind
and polite” (ibid.). He confesses that he recently met two guys of this kind. At
first, he was motivated by pure curiosity, but he soon learned that even order-
ing a masseur is an erotic situation, “And I finally discovered a new option for
enriching my sex life.” He particularly complements one of the guys he met who
was responsive and sensitive to his needs. Tidhar writes that after two months, he
repeated this experience because he needed to authenticate his feelings. Surpris-
ingly, the second meeting “was even nicer than the first one.” Since then, they
didn’t meet again and he didn’t feel that he should check on the boy. “The pur-
pose of the meeting,” he explains, “was defined and well known for both satisfied
parties.”
Tidhar adds that since their last meeting, he received dozens of text messages
from the guy who offered to repeat their experience. Tidhar states that he politely
refused, “because I’m a guy with boundaries even when I’m horny.” According
to him, the phenomenon of addiction to sex services is known and recognized,
and it is not much different than gambling, alcoholism or drug addiction. Tidhar
confesses that he still keeps this guy’s phone number, however, and he may use
it when he likes. “Sometimes,” he adds, “knowing that this option is available is
quite nice.”
At this point, Tidhar feels the need to start qualifying his perspective. He empha-
sizes that he doesn’t intend to encourage prostitution, because prostitution doesn’t
need any encouragement. Rather, it is an existent fact. He admits that although the
experience he described was rather nice, it doesn’t necessarily represent all pros-
titution experiences. He doesn’t personally know all those who offer sex services
in popular gay dating websites or their motivations, and he is quite sure that many
of those who offer massage services, for example, are not involved in sex services
at all. He adds that even if some of the advertisers provide sex services, the two
guys he met do not necessarily represent all sex workers.
In his support of prostitution, Tidhar stresses that the guy he met wasn’t deceit-
fully smuggled from a foreign country, didn’t experience poverty and didn’t have
a miserable childhood. Tidhar explains: “It’s about a good Ashkenazi5 boy who
grew up in a well-established family in an affluent part of Israel, and he’s going
to finish his law studies with honors. Our sexual intercourse, needn’t to say, was
consensual.” Tidhar adds that the guy assured him that whenever he feels that a
164 Gilad Padva
certain client or demand “is not for him,” he assertively refuses. “But it doesn’t
represent it all,” Tidhar admits, “because prostitution, unfortunately, is strongly
connected in most cases with poverty, exploitation and humiliation.”
Later, Tidhar blames the opponents of prostitution for hypocrisy. He wonders if
interns in certain lawyers’ offices, for example, are not being employed as slaves
in the old, simple meaning of slavery: “Isn’t their human dignity been violated?
Isn’t it prostitution in its very basic meaning?” Tidhar’s comparison between
prostitution and exploitive employment of law interns is followed by a rather
original humanistic argument: “it should be said that for many of us, sex services
is nothing but rescuing,” he claims, “whether they live with disability, physical
problem, illness and even mental deprivations.” According to him, the chances for
those who deal with these problems to be sexually satisfied in acceptable ways are
almost zealous. “It’s not OK, and it’s upsetting that the world works this way,” he
writes, “but until it gets better, no one has to be punished.” Tidhar even estimates
that the increasing life expectancy will only strengthen the need for sex services
for those who yearn for eternal youth.
Rhetorically, the legitimization and rehabilitation of male prostitution in Tid-
har’s article is mainly based on the following strategies:
1 consideration of male prostitution as individualistic fulfillment of the cus-

tomer’s personal sexual taste;
2 rejection of the critical argument that prostitution is based on emotionless
sex, and its conversion to the apparently liberating idea of uncommitted sex;
3 consideration of male prostitution as means of competing with the customer’s
sexual dysfunction and law mental state;
4 consideration of male prostitution as practice which liberates the well-established
customer from the need to compromise;
5 consideration of male prostitution as legitimate option for fulfillment of
urgent, instant sexual needs, not less legitimate than a visit to a gay bar or
all-male sauna;
6 subordination of male prostitution to the pattern of free market and perceiv-
ing it as a sort of cheap, quick and efficient service that respects all parties
(the clients and the persons who earn their living by prostitution);
7 breaking prevalent stereotypes about the characteristics and personalities of
prostituted men by representing them as ones who kindly and politely pro-
vide services;
8 presenting the use of male prostitutes as an enriching and expanding the cus-
tomer’s point of view;
9 glorification of sex without symbolic or intimate approaching between the
customer and the prostituted man before or after their physical act;
10 considering the use of sex services as controlled and well-defined practice which
unnecessarily makes the customer a sex addict or generated by such addiction;
11 a clear distinction between female prostitution, which is often associated in
public discourse with trafficking in women and violent pimping, and male
prostitution, which is basically regarded by Tidhar as free choice;
12 instrumentalizing personal experience as means of justifying male prostitu-
tion, on one hand, and as means of distinction between this particular practice
and the general world of prostitution, on the other hand;
13 analogizing sexual prostitution and employers’ prostitution of their workers
by presenting both phenomena as similar products of prevalent power rela-
tions in workplaces;
14 presenting male prostitution as an almost altruistic response to the needs of
disabled, handicapped and senior citizens who find it difficult to find sex
partners in other ways.
Ideologically, these strategies reflect and even exalt a variety of capitalistic

social values: individualism, customer service, free market of commodities and
products, supply and demand, and powerful relationships between masters and
servants. The consumerist ethos is accompanied by some other sorts of liberal
ethos: free choice, fulfilling one’s desire and sexual freedom, together with the
humanistic ethos of solidarity with disabled people. In this way, Tidhar acquires
his deeds an ethical image and perceives them respectful and acceptable acts in a
postmodern era of mass consumerism and business. Poverty, social distress and
exploitation are only secondary themes in the discussed text and they are dis-
tanced from the positive personal experiences of this male prostitution’s client.
Tidhar’s distinction between the satisfying and the satisfied is connected to the
complicated hierarchal relations between different masculinities in contemporary
society. R. W. Connell (1995) explains that in every era, the local culture glorifies
one particular sort of masculinity. At the same time, the culture marginalizes other
masculinities.
In other words, one particular group of men constitutes itself as the cultural
hegemony, demands a privileged position in society and usually manages to main-
tain its powerful position over time. Hence, Connell emphasizes the power of
hegemonic masculinity. This hegemonic masculinity, however, is an accumula-
tion of gendered practices set up to justify its privileged status. In this case, hiring
the body of a prostituted man by another well-established, affluent man is a gen-
dered practice that eventually reproduces the social strata inside and outside the
gay community in Israel. The physical, sexual use of one man’s body by another
man reaffirms the power relations between classes, whether the servant is required
to be penetrated by the served subjectivity or to penetrate him for money.
Confessions of escort boys, clients and dissident gay voices

Tidhar’s article provoked highly emotional responses among the readers of gogay.
co.il. The discourse that followed the article included, at first stage, nearly 200
comments of supporters and opponents of Tidhar’s perspective regarding pros-
tituted services. The debate on the article “Don’t call me a whore,” one of the
most intense, polemic debates ever appearing on this gay website, includes ideo-
logical responses on the interactions between the gay community’s politics of the
male body and the prostituted men industry. The ideological debate integrates
166 Gilad Padva
emotional and experiential arguments for and against the justification and legali-
zation of prostitution, and it often includes personal confessions that correspond
to the readers’ voyeurism and exhibitionism as well, provoking curiosity and
empathy towards the confessor who states: “I’ve been there.”
Most of the responses focus on three discussions: (1) the legitimacy of male
prostitution as social and consumerist phenomenon; (2) the characteristics and
normativity of (mostly young) prostituted men; (3) the legitimacy of male pros-
titution which is offered to clients with particular physical problems and elderly
gays. The comments are often characterized by emotional language, including
intense, excited and even blatant expressions. Some of the comments refer not
only to Tidhar’s article but also to other comments, thus creating some intense
dialectical frameworks. Furthermore, the discussed comments, with their diverse
contents and styles, reflect the importance of this debate: an initial opportunity,
offered by Tidhar’s article, to create a serious communal debate which is not only
about male prostitution and its problematic social implications, but also explores
other aspects of the gay male body politics, including youth cult and body fascism
in the age of Internet. The discussion particularly deals with masculine physi-
cal standards, the constitution and enforcement of hierarchal masculinities and
the quest for personal expression, anti-collectivism and individualism, as much
as social solidarity and caring in the age of capitalism and its emancipating and
brutal aspects.
The responses to Tidhar’s article reflect different perceptions of male prostitu-
tion and its justification or morality. A minority of responders protect this social
phenomenon, such as the responder Seaglor who claims that the issue of suppliers
and consumers of paid sex is wide-ranged and fascinating, and he believes that
“Under certain circumstances it does have an essential, positive aspect.” Seaglor
agrees that sex is always an expression of (repressed or unrepressed) emotional
need, “Just like having massage or practicing yoga to clear one’s head and relax.”
Another responder, calling himself Psychologist, also defends Tidhar, claiming
that the article does not encourage prostitution but only describes a free-choice
situation with participation by two fully aware persons. Another responder, called
Pirin, objects to any reference to the connection between prostituted services and
human trade: “When I buy a flight ticket, am I buying the whole plane? When I sit
at a restaurant, do I buy the waiter? When I talk to a psychologist, do I buy him?”
he wonders, “What exactly are you talking about?!”
In contrast, opponents of male prostitution consider it mostly as a result of the
dark side of the capitalist system. A responder named The Devil and Its Excuses
asserts (in the name of the devil): “I’m against love – people are consumed goods”
and he explains: “The economic machine uses prostitution to reward those who
work hard and lost their humanity.” The responder Guy M. claims that consum-
ers of sex services contribute to exploitation. Instead of calling for legalization of
prostitution, Guy M. demands to change the norms of the gay society, particularly
to be less judgmental in regard to physical appearance. Guy M. speculates that
most people who are involved in prostitution do it because of their unprivileged
background, “Because this experience is certainly unpleasant for the other party.”
He claims that the case described by Tidhar is exceptional or resulted by the fact
that Tidhar didn’t know the guy well: “[The escort boy] won’t tell a client what he
truly experienced (there’s a lot of data on the connection between sexual abuse of
children and later involvement in prostitution).”
The female responder Einat cannot understand how people regard sex services
as life-saving. She emphasizes that sex is nothing like oxygen or food, as one can
live without sex for many years, even his whole life. “And perhaps you’ll be sur-
prised,” she adds, “but people do not die because of it. Sex is nice and even won-
derful, but you wouldn’t pay a nice man for having a romantic affair with you, so
why should you pay for sex?? Use your right hand, bro!” Einat wonders if Tidhar
is familiar with the conditions of the employment of the man who prostituted for
him: “Do you really think that the guy you’re paying him for sex will come over
and tell you, ‘I do not have anything in my life, and I pay half of what I earn to my
pimp’?? He knows that you wouldn’t come back to him if he’ll tell you so. You do
not want to feel bad about yourself.”
This debate about the legitimization of male prostitution in Israel is mainly an
ideological debate between two perspectives.
Tidhar and his supporters perceive prostitution as a legitimate part of con-
temporary leisure culture and even an essential therapy for people involved in a
capitalist labor market that makes people’s existence and survival difficult tasks,
particularly for clients who need some erotic break and recreational escape from
the their intense routine. This attitude primarily sees male prostitution from the
point of view of the client who rents another person’s body, not from the eyes
of the prostituted man who earns his living by hiring his own body for sexual
purposes.
On the other hand, the opponents of male prostitution criticize this phenomenon
and regard it both as an illegitimate part of capitalism which does not correspond
to capitalistic principles like free market and freedom of choice, and as a phenom-
enon that proves the moral illegitimacy of the capitalist system, a socio-economic
unjust which essentially produces mechanisms of objectification and dehuman-
ization of masses of workers cataloged as “manpower” or “human resources”
doomed to the capricious “free market” which causes degrading phenomena like
prostitution (both in sexual and non-sexual terms), hardening people’s terms of
employment and layoffs.
The debate between Tidhar’s supporters and opponents, however, is not merely
a debate between capitalism and socialism, but is also concerned with additional
profound issues such as the value of the human body in the age of mass industri-
alization, commodification and pricing.
Sexual determinism and bedroom exploitation

The comments publicized by supporters and opponents of boys’ and men’s pros-
titution primarily focus on the issue of legitimization of their work and their social
image, behavioral characteristics, freedom of choice and varied feelings such as
empathy, compassion, arrogance, aversion and hostility provoked by the young
168 Gilad Padva
prostituted men. For example, a responder who calls himself Zero blames the com-
munity for a hypocritical attitude towards prostitution which only corresponds to
basic market rules (“Is there a demand? There’s a supply!”). A responder named
Isaac insists that prostitution does not emerge from material distress. According to
Isaac, “Today there is almost no ‘distress prostitution’ conducted by boys who are
hungry for bread. It is certainly possible that there’s a distress of another nature.”
The responder Zero justifies men who make a living from prostitution. He
considers their work as respectful pricing of joyful act, in contrast to voluntary,
unprofitable sex sessions that he considers as a mocked and even disgraced act.
It is convenient for Zero to focus on the business perspective by living the social
perspective aside and even mocking it. Partial or complete denial of becoming a
prostitute because of poverty and distress enables Zero to focus on the alleged
convenience of the man who earns his living as prostitute. Zero flatters the male
prostitute’s “understanding of business.” Likewise, Pirin claims that a man who
makes a living by sex consciously chooses this occupation as one of multiple
alternatives: “No matter how you prefer to see it, an escort is the one who chose
the easiest way.”
In contrast to Zero’s and Pirin’s glorification of anti-deterministic principles
like free will and autonomous decision, a respondent named Historian asks the
readers to think what caused a young man or boy to become a prostitute. Historian
raises a series of troubling questions:
Did he really choose it or he’s in it because of social constraints? Is he going

to use the money to rebuild his life? Is he really gay, or he desperately agrees
to do anything for money? And what if he’s forced to give all his money to his
pimp? And if he’s willing to have sex with anyone for money, is he really tak-
ing care of his health? What is he doing about sexually transmitted diseases
(condom doesn’t prevent all diseases)?
Historian adds: “What happens to him when he’s 30 years old?” The responder
Historian wishes to explore the dynamics behind the scenes of prostitution. He
wishes to differentiate prostitution from other jobs such as sales and waiting
tables, and he highlights some ethical, moral, ideological and political differences
between these works.
Historian emphasizes the particularity of male prostitution and its varied prob-
lematic aspects which transgress the principle of free choice, e.g., bullying and
pimping, denial of one’s authentic sexual identification that leads to difficult inter-
nal alienation, neglecting one’s health in favor of making profits, and a short-term
“career” that cruelly ends when the prostituted man gets older and his body is
aged.
Some of the responders refer to the way Tidhar describes one of the prostituted
young men as “a good Ashkenazi boy from Ramat Ha’Sharon.”6 This typifying
of the prostituted guy agitated some of the readers, e.g., the responder Lenny,
who offers the following equation: “Affluent home in Ramat Ha’Sharon = a poor
neighborhood; good Ashkenazi boy = poor Russian immigrant; a distinguished
law student = oh well, we know all about you and him.” The responder A.A.
admits that under certain circumstances, he might be tempted to use other people
for his own sexual needs. “I admit that it’s really appealing,” he writes, “But I still
cannot deny that it is exploitive and quite shameful.” He supposes, like Lenny,
that “Believing the guy that he’s a law student is too naïve.”
In contrast to Lenny and A.A., who find it difficult to believe that an academic
guy will be involved with prostitution, another responder called 50-Years-Old
confesses that when he lived in the United States, he hired an escort with M.A.
degree “And, indeed, the problem is not about one’s intelligence.” The responder
50-Years-Old describes his consumerist problems during his attempts to get
the desirable boyish product. He complains that the service he got was rather
humiliating:
To begin with, if I didn’t cum in 10 minutes, the guy already looked at his
watch and started to hurry me up. In these very moments, after reading Tid-
har’s article, I had a shameful dialog with someone in a popular dating web-
site who offers “erotic massage” for 250 NIS for 40 minutes. Then he detailed
his special tariffs: 50 NIS at the client’s home plus taxi, plus special payment
for sexual therapy, plus extra charge for oral sex plus extra charge for anal
sex, etc. I preferred to satisfy myself by porn film and keep some of my
self- respect.
The respondent 50-Years-Old instantly clarifies that he can afford himself these
amounts, “But the exploitation, the humiliation and the message that I’m inferior.”
Here, the client transfers feelings of exploitation and humiliation from him to his
unruly “servant,” the young man who sells him his body. In this way, motives like
humiliation and greed are projected on the prostituted man who humiliates his
body and soul for cash, whereas the client constantly considers himself as victim
and, absurdly, presents himself as a martyr persecuted by a prostituted male.
Later, the responder 50-Years-Old wistfully recalls a young man that he hired
in the United States:
There, by the way, some of our best Israeli boys are engage in prostitution.
The last I was with him looked like a porn star (as opposed to how the male
prostitutes in Israel look like). . . . Not that I believe that his moans were
authentic, I’m not that naive, but at least my honor wasn’t trampled.
In Israel, he adds, “In order to keep my dignity I must use my right hand.” The
way in which 50-Years-Old associates prostituted bodies, commercialized sex
negotiation and porn films highly reflects the essence of the patriarchal thought
and its victimization of women. Catharine MacKinnon (1989) emphasizes the
interrelations between sexual harassment, rape, trafficking in women, prostitution
and pornography. According to MacKinnon, these tools are socially integrated
and perpetuate the humiliation of women. MacKinnon suggests that in patriar-
chal society, “What is sexual is what gives a man an erection. Whatever it takes
170 Gilad Padva
to make a penis shudder and stiffen with the experience of its potency is what
sexuality means culturally,” she explains. “Whatever else does, fear does, hostil-
ity does, hatred does, the helplessness of a child or a student or an infantilized
or restrained or vulnerable woman does, revulsion does, death does” (325). In
this case, the sexually exploited object is not the woman, but a male body which
functions as object, merchandise, instrument and product held by another man for
sexual satisfaction.
Moreover, instrumental perception of another man’s body is symptomatic for
the lack of intense public and academic discourse inside the community, particu-
larly in Israel, about the legitimacy of gay pornography and its implications on
the daily reconstruction of the “meat market” and male prostitution. In this man-
ner, male prostitution is deeply involved with the mechanisms of objectification
which exists in the local gay community, with and without pricing and commer-
cial exchange. It is still difficult to find articles, manifestos or research of gay
men in Israel, the United Kingdom, the United States and other countries which
explicitly object to gay pornography, although the latter raises issues similar to
those of straight porn: media constructions of identity, masculinity, lust and objec-
tification, and power and sexual violence and their influence on the spectators.
Yet, in the public debate and controversy about straight porn, the discussion of
gay porn is usually no more than a small footnote, if anything.
One of the enthusiastic supporters of gay porn, Fred Fejes (2002) argues that
gay porn is one of a very few ways for gay men to express their sexual desire,
and it is a significant resource for definition and constitution of personal and com-
munal gay identity. John Stoltenberg (1990) asserts that the gay man is depicted
in gay porn as variation of heterosexual male identity, phallic and powerful as
it is, not only in gay porn dedicated to sadomasochistic and leather subcultures,
but also in moderate, “vanilla” porn. Against Fejes’ argumentation that gay porn
(almost) never shows women, and only men are served as objects for sexual
desire, Stoltenberg suggests that gay porn as its own misogynist aspect. This is
because men are inserted, bottomed or made “passive” in visual depictions of
sexual penetration, as if they have been feminized. In other words, men are both
humiliating and humiliated/feminized, suffering from violence and male aggres-
sion. According to Connell (1995), however, the negotiation between masculini-
ties in contemporary society is asymmetric and conducted in a hierarchal order,
away from any mutuality.
Commercialized altruism and disabled satisfactions

The debate on gogay.co.il about the gay community’s attitude towards prostituted
men stimulated several young men to confess in their comments that they earn
their living by prostitution. For example, the responder Gil admits that he works
as an “escort”: “I’m not so proud about the occupation I chose. Although I prefer
to stay anonymous here, I believe that it is a legitimate occupation just like any
other occupation.” Gil explains that a person who works with his head, like a law-
yer, hires his brain to his clients, “And a person like me, who works as an escort,
hires his body. I do not see any significant difference between me and him. What’s
the difference between mind and body??” Gil tells the readers that he’s 22 years
old and he knows that he doesn’t have many more years for this kind of work.
He assumes that when he’ll be 25, his clients won’t want him anymore because
they prefer younger men. “I understand this fact of life, and this is why I intend to
make as much money as I can in the next three years, money that will guarantee
my future, and it is quite a bit of money.”
Gil keeps glorifying his prostitution career, telling his readers that he’s a stu-
dent who lives in his own apartment at the center of town, and his work hurts no
one. “I greatly help my clients who are attracted to youngsters like me but no
young man wants them,” he adds and explains that it’s his life and he enjoys it,
as much as his clients do, so he sees no reason not to legitimize it. He ends his
confession with the cliché “All work is honorable.”
The responder Michael wonders (albeit stereotypically) about Gil’s ignoring
of the dark and abusive sides of the sex business: “Haven’t you been disgusted at
times when you meet a fat or bald or old client? Don’t you feel like you’d rather
die?” The responder Ayin also attacks Gil’s smugness and he raises critical ques-
tions: “Do you ‘enjoy’ your job? Are you ‘saving money for the future’? Really?”
Ayin says that he knows some guys who are involved or were involved in escort
business. “I’ve always heard the same thing from all these guys,” he notes, “they
all feel bad about what they’re doing. None of them manages to save money from
it. At the very moment they got the money, they felt that it’s ‘bad money’ and
wasted all of it on nonsense pleasures to ‘compensate’ themselves for their bad
feelings.”
One of the arguments used by those who write comments in favor of legiti-
mization of male prostitution, however, is the need to satisfy the needs of men
who find it difficult to find voluntary sex because of their physical difference,
disabilities or because they are overweight or aging. Many of the comments
clearly reflect ageism and sizeism as interconnected phenomena. The responder
Amir, for example, confesses that he is overweight, thus he experiences many
rejections, refusals and mocking glances. “I have no choice,” he explains,
“and although I’m only 28, I sometimes have to pay a call boy. By the way,
I’m not fat but only full.” Similarly, the responder DHT wonders, what will fat,
full, and those guys who underwent their 30s and 40s do: “Don’t they deserve
occasional fuck, even if it’s been paid?” A reply to DHT’s question is offered by
the responder Kind Word:
They can lose weight (not an easy task at all, but also growing up in a tough
neighborhood is not easy but still doesn’t justify delinquency), find people
who are attracted to fat guys (I know some guys who like it), act up for the
institutionalization of prostitution, and use their right hand.
The responder Shraga explains to Kind Word that it’s very difficult to lose weight:
“most of the overweight guys give up their diets and prefer the option of paying
for sex. It’s much more comfortable.”
172 Gilad Padva
Whereas body size is perceived as changeable, as the body can be improved,
redesigned and reduced to a certain degree, age and its implications are presented
much more deterministically. The responder Ronen claims that “A gay man who
reaches 40 doesn’t have many choices but paying an escort.” Ronen even rebuked
those he considers as “self-righteous”: “Ask yourself what you’re going to do
when you reach 40 or 50 and like to have sex? Old gay men do not have many
options. By the way,” he adds, “there are also young gay men who use to pay for
sex. Most of them are overweight.” The responder Ben names mature hetero-
sexual men who still look good: “Eyal Kitzis7 is 40-year-old, Brad Pitt is in his
40s. . . . Do they need prostitutes? Well, no. . . . Pitt can sleep with Angelina Jolie.”
This debate is characterized by the perception of overweight and aging people
as misfortunate victims of the society, on the one hand, and as self-victimized, on
the other hand. Those who are overweight are presented (by themselves and by
other people) as consuming prostitution because they have no other options and
cannot control their diet and the size of their body. Other responders are more
empathetic, however, realizing that losing weight can be difficult and Sisyphean
at times, but their conclusions are quite the opposite: some recommend that over-
weight gay men hire other mens’ bodies occasionally, whereas others recommend
them to get satisfied by masturbation only. This reflects a rather dichotomous and
narrow vision of the situation of overweight people: paying a prostitute or totally
abstain.
Those who criticize such bipolar representation are accused of hypocrisy:
“Would you agree to get into bed with someone full or fat or over 40?” the
responder Yaniv rebukes his peers, “Since I assume most answers are ‘absolutely
not’, of course, why can’t you realize that there are some people who are willing
to do it for money?” In this way, Yaniv presents the prostituted men not only as
providing an essential service, but almost as altruistic guys who sacrifice their
bodies for the community’s marginalized members.
Overweight men are perceived here as doomed and miserable guys who unfor-
tunately need to waste their money on hiring other men’s bodies in order to fulfill
their basic desires. It is a sophisticated rhetorical maneuver which is supposed to
lead to double social rehabilitation of male prostitution in presenting it simultane-
ously as an almost heroic act of the suppliers of this “service,” and as a natural
need of the overweight, full and “too old” guys. Practically, it is a problematic nat-
uralization of giving and receiving prostituted services by subject-positioning the
client as victim and presenting the supplier of prostitution as one who eases the
pain of the client (for a nice amount of money). Alternatively, overweight people,
as much as mature men (who are 28? Older than 40? Or maybe at the beginning
of their 50s?) are presented here in a Darwinist manner as victims who victimize
the unfortunate “other” who is placed in an even lower stage or class in this “food
chain” of erotic gratification. Such a hierarchal pattern, however, reestablishes
the place of prostituted men in the lowest level in this hierarchy of masculinities,
physicality, age, weight, and masters and servants.
A different option which transgresses the dichotomy prostitution-or-abstinence,
however, is expressed by a responder who calls himself Lawyer and explains that
there is a whole range of flavors, as some people desire more mature, full, hairy,
smooth, slim, young, sissy or masculine guys. A dramatic support for this stake
is also reflected by a responder named Disabled who strongly objects to Tidhar’s
statement that for many gay men, paid sex is rescuing. The responder Disabled
claims that he has a friend who is paralyzed from the neck down. “People come up
to him on the street and tell him, after a brief talk, that if they were in his situation,
they would prefer to commit suicide,” he writes. “That man has a family, children,
career to be envied and unpaid sex life.”
Secret prostitution and its youth victims

In the second stage of this discourse, after enraged responses for and against the
existence of male prostitution in Israel, as well as emotional confessions of men
who make a living from prostitution and men who consume prostituted men fol-
lowing Tidhar’s article “Don’t call me a whore,” Re’ut Guy wrote a public reply
entitled: “Call a spade a spade.” Guy is the former coordinator of Beit Dror, an
educational-therapeutic center which belongs to the Welfare Department of Tel
Aviv-Jaffa Municipality. Beit Dror assists queer youth who have been thrown
away from home because of their sexual otherness and consequently experience
risky situations. Guy writes that she worked in Beit Dror for three years. Twenty-
six out of 100 boys and girls who were treated by this institution, a year before
Tidhar’s article was published, had some relation to prostitution: standing at the
central bus station in Tel Aviv and getting into clients’ cars, “hosting” clients in
departments, finding clients on the Internet or having been paid for 15 minutes of
sex and a soft drink. Beit Dror’s staff discovered, according to Guy, that all youth
involved in prostitution shared similar patterns: damaged self-image, a history of
exploitation, alienation, lack of parental supervision, lack of sexual (or other) dif-
ferentiation and a tendency toward addiction and self-harm. Guy emphasizes that
100 percent of prostituted youth had suffered momentary or continuous exploi-
tation or sexual assault. She adds: “100 percent of the assailants were men, of
course” (Guy 2009).
In her opinion, the absolute match between sexual abuse and prostitution is not
accidental. Those who experienced sexual abuse often suffer from dissociation or
detachment, trauma recovery and a will to shift roles, to be the victimizer rather
than the victim. Hence, they try to convince themselves that they are exploiting,
not exploited. All these factors, which are not dependent on the youth her/himself,
are often fertile soil for becoming a prostitute. Guy emphasizes that this is not a
conscious choice or fair condition, and therefore she prefers the term “unfortu-
nately became a prostitute” instead of the old-fashioned terminology “work in
prostitution.” “Also the term ‘escorts’ belongs to those looking for a nice cover for
prostitution,” she observes. “You should admit that it sounds much more decent to
order an escort rather than ordering a prostitute.”
In her article, Guy exposes dramatic changes in Beit Dror’s policy regarding
the treatment of prostitution. Until five years before she wrote her article, prostitu-
tion was considered a “red line.” As a result, boys and girls who found themselves
174 Gilad Padva
in prostitution hid it from the staff of Beit Dror. “The truth is that they were right,”
Guy agrees. “Why should they tell us about it, if it’s forbidden? Prostitution can be
hid like sexual orientation or gender confusion that they had to hide.” After much
deliberation, Beit Dror’s staff decided that if their youth will continue to hide it,
then they do not need Beit Dror but can stay at their homes or keep roaming the
streets. “Hereby, we removed the barrier,” Guy explains and adds, “Despite the
fear of a wrong educational message, we started talking about it. We didn’t say
‘yes’ or ‘no’ to prostitution, but we said ‘yes’ to dealing with it.”
Guy adds that prostitution exists everywhere: in certain dating websites, in the
old central bus station in Tel Aviv, in saunas and on the back page of newspapers,
and it bothers her that people order sex just like they order a pizza, without any
shame or will to hide it. “Dear members of the community,” she asks the gay read-
ers, “Do not lie yourself: there’s no money or pleasure in prostitution. In prostitu-
tion there’s one and only exploited person, the guy who’s been paid for sex, and
there’s only one sexual exploiter, who is the one who pays for sex.”
Like the discourse followed by Tidhar’s article, Guy’s article also stimulated
emotional responses in more than 200 comments. The responders were divided
in their attitudes towards male prostitution and its justification or condemnation.
The capitalist ethos, including the myths it is based on – such as free choice, free
market, freedom of occupation, independent careers and financial independence –
clearly resonates in the comments which respond to Guy’s article. The capitalist
ethos is echoed, for example, in a story of a student who became a gigolo, which
is exposed by the responder Eran. The latter regards his prostituted friend’s expe-
rience as almost heroic, an experience which will not damage the gigolo’s future.
The responder Eran titles his comment “I’ve been a ‘whore’ ” (the word ‘whore’
originally appears in quotation marks) and claims: “If you were seeing me in the
street, you wouldn’t believe that I dare to touch fat, old and hairy men for money.
I have good family, academic degree, many good friends, and job which isn’t bad.
Quite a bourgeois life.” Why did he start selling his body for sexual needs? “In
prostitution I made a lot of money, sometimes I even enjoyed it,” he explains and
clarifies: “I don’t do that anymore, but I’m not telling stores. The one who tells a
story is Re’ut who aims to put us in a Zehava Gal’On8-like box of exploiting cli-
ent vs. exploited-hustler. It ain’t true,” he argues and corrects himself: “It is true
in some cases. It is true about women trafficking. It is true about minors. But it is
not true about me and many other guys I know.” A responder named Or replies:
“If you’re as successful as you describe yourself, why did you turn to prostitution?
Why didn’t you use your other skills to earn a paycheck legally, without the dan-
gers of prostitution?” And he continues: “Is it because you were just too lazy to
make money in legal job??? Were you really so blind to the dangers??? Is money
really that important for you???”
The responder Psychologist, in contrast, defends male prostitution. He even
compares the objection to male prostitution with the objection to homosexuality:
“Did you know that there’s more mental distress, depression and anxiety among
gays than straights? Did you know that there are more suicides among gay youth?”
He asks and answers by another question: “is the conclusion should be that one
who ‘unfortunately became homosexual’ is a victim of deprived childhood and
misery? It sounds terrible, right? Silly, simplistic, moralistic, just like an Orthodox
pamphlet. . . . Tidhar himself claimed that prostitution is often associated with
exploitation and degradation. What was challenging in his article, however, is
his attempt to transcend the usual slogans for a minute and to present a case that
provokes the usual pattern or, at least, generates a debate about a gray area.”
Just like many of the comments which respond to Tidhar’s article, some of
Guy’s opponents also chose to present the prostitutes’ clients as victims. The
responder Amir argues: “Customer of prostitution is often in a weakened posi-
tion and he is the one who can be regarded as victim.” Another responder turns
an accusing finger in the same direction: “What about those boys who cynically
exploit the adults and their money? What about those who blackmail clients they
meet by dating websites?” The responder Rachelly replies: “Next time you exploit
a boy for money, remember that someone took advantage of him once without
paying him, and since then he demands money for it.”
After two days of comments attack, Re’ut Guy wrote a comment herself, reply-
ing to her opponents:
If some had any doubt about it, let me say that I greatly respect boys and girls
whenever they are, and I always, always wishes to be the one who will be
there in this particular moment, hoping that they won’t be afraid to realize the
price they’re paying, to believe in them forcefully, and make them believe in
themselves, believe that they can do differently. . . . For all those who think
that this is nothing but righteousness, I might even say that it’s about pure
egoism as there’s no bigger satisfaction than it. Anyone who helped boys and
girls who are in these places knows how it is. I had the privilege to accompany
them on their journey, and I learned from them anything I can tell about it.
Conclusion: saving the weakest link in the food chain

The gay communal discourse following Ziv Tidhar’s public confession about his
experiences with male prostitutes, as reflected in the Internet website gogay.co.il,
highly expresses the maturation of the gay community in Israel and its growing
willingness to challenge axioms, myths, ethos and admired role models which are
related to the constitution of the male body and satisfying its sexual needs. The
ideological maturation of the gay community is closely connected, according to
my perspective, to feminist criticism which attempts to undermine the capitalist
subordination of the human body to fulfilling other men’s sexual needs. This is a
struggle against the subordination of the body to mechanisms of objectification,
marketing and pricing. Some of the comments following Tidhar’s and Guy’s arti-
cles reflect the problematic strengthening of Darwinist, anti-social perceptions
that naturalize distinctions between masters and servants, consumers and sup-
pliers of prostitution, “sex clients” and “sex workers.” Such anti-social attitudes
reaffirm the capitalist ethos and its negation of differentiation between prostitution
176 Gilad Padva
and other sorts of making a living, as if prostitution should not be regarded as a
problem or as an expression of degradation which is much more severe than the
labor of poor interns in luxurious offices of miser lawyers, for example, or waiting
tables in some exploitive wedding venues.
Mike Featherstone (1991) explains that capitalism is not dependent anymore
on condemnation of sexual and physical pleasure and maintaining rigid disci-
plinary forms of manual labor. Instead, the body in the consumerist culture is
disciplined and hedonistic, as well. In such culture, according to Featherstone,
the body becomes a means of pleasure, health and fitness. The body is perceived
as passport for good life. In this manner, the human body doesn’t signify a site
of uncontrolled hedonism but a quest for revised attitude towards it. According
to Shilling (1993), the subjects can exercise discretion and decide for themselves
how to regulate and display their bodies because the body is primarily read as an
expression of individual identity. In other words, Featherstone sees a clear con-
nection between the capitalist system and hedonistic commercialized exploitation
of the human body, whereas Shilling claims that the capitalist system still enables
the individual’s freedom of choice so he can reasonably and logically decide how
to maintain his body and how to use it.
The question if the life of a prostituted man – selling his body to capitalists who
use his organs, muscles, orifices and liquids to satisfy their sexual needs – is truly
“liveable” life, or is a prostituted man basically living a continuously oppressive,
risky, threatening, exploitive and desperate situation that makes his life difficult
and often unbearable? Judith Butler (2004) notes that the term “liveable life”
necessitates consideration of the normative conditions that should be fulfilled in
order to make live liveable (48). Following this presupposition, Butler identifies
two meanings of life: life in its merely biological and physical sense vs. liveable
life, which expresses the human being’s humanity. In her eyes, not all biological
lives seem “liveable,” or truly constructed as humane. The field of “liveable life”
constructs a reality of “life that are not liveable” (Butler 2004, 39). Such life has
no respectability and human dignity. Hence, Butler emphasizes the need to con-
sider what humans require in order to maintain and reproduce the conditions of
their liveability and the sorts of politics through which we, in any possible way,
conceptualize as possibility of liveable life (Butler 2004, 39). Butler underlines
that the concern with “liveable” life is a moral issue, since it involves the question
of what makes, or should make, other people’s lives bearable (17).
The discussion of male prostitution – a rarely discussed topic in mass media
and Israeli academia research, as well – stimulated a critical discussion of the
gay community’s attitude towards the existent male prostitution; the interrela-
tions between gay porn and legitimization of the prostitution of the human body,
particularly the male body; the community’s attitude towards men who are a
minority within a minority (e.g., overweight gay men, disabled gay men and gay
older men); the atmosphere of “meat market” which characterizes many of the
gay community’s dating and chatting websites and stimulates the objectification
of other men by and their commercialized search after sex; and the community’s
ethical evaluation of prostituted men, sex clients and activists who try to help
prostituted men in risky situations.
Neo-liberal perceptions of prostitution regard it as career, achievement, free
choice, anti-moralistic, dissident and thrilling, emancipating enterprise which is
a legitimate and even romanticized way of life, no less dignified than waiting
tables, law students’ internships, art or academic research. These perceptions are
dramatically problematized and challenged, however, by sordid experiences of
prostituted men who are often brutalized, abused, oppressed, raped, mugged and
intensively exposed to sexually transmitted diseases in risky situations, some-
times becoming drug addicted as they try to ease their pain and to forget their
daily humiliating and despairing routine. Commercialized sex does not promote
sexual freedom and erotic pluralism but rather stimulates alienation, practiced
chauvinism and cruel, heartless social Darwinism in which prostituted men even-
tually realize that they are the weakest link in the food chain. Hereby, I strongly
hope that this discourse will encourage a public struggle for better a better gay
community, a better society and a better state. I believe that it is a struggle for
liveable lives of boys and young men, whether they are Ashkenazi, Sephardic,9
Arabs, affluent or unprivileged people. This is primarily a fight for human rights.
Notes
1 Gay male brothels are also relatively rare around the world, and usually exist at the mar-
gins of local prostitution industries in Zurich, Amsterdam, San Francisco and Prague,
often masqueraded as “masseur services”; in Nevada, there are two brothels with some
employees who are men who sell their bodies to heterosexual women.
2 www.bethdror.org
3 http://elem.org.il/lm
4 www.shanti.org.il/htmls/home.aspx
5 “Ashkenazi” means a Jewish man of “privileged” Western origins.
6 In the social strata of Israel, “Ashkenazi” means a guy who belongs to the allegedly
privileged socio-economic group of Israelis of Western Jewish origins. This group is
(stereo)typically contrasted to the (often unprivileged) Sephardic people of Eastern Jew-
ish origins. Ramat Ha’sharon is an upper-class town north of Tel Aviv.
7 Eyal Kitzis is a popular Israeli TV comedian and one of the stars of popular Israeli TV
satire Show Eretz Nehederet (meaning: “wonderful country”) on Israel’s Channel 2.
Kitzis turned 50 in January 2019 and Brad Pitt is now 54 and is in the process of divorce
from Angelina Jolie.
8 Zehava Gal’on, a former Knesset member and the former leader of the left-winged
Israeli social-democrat party Meretz, fought for the abolition of prostitution and crimi-
nalization of the prostitutes’ clients.
9 Sephardic people are of Eastern Jewish origins.
References
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PA: Taylor and Francis.
Allen, Donald M. 1980. Young male prostitutes: A psychosocial study. Archives of Sexual
Behavior, 9: 399–426.
178 Gilad Padva
Arye, Patrick, and David Barrett. 2000. Young people and prostitution: An end to the
beginning? Children and Society, 14: 48–59.
Browne, Jan L., and Victor Minichiello. 1994. The condom: Why people don’t put it on.
Sociology of Health and Illness, 16(2): 209–231.
———. 1996. Research directions in male sex work. Journal of Homosexuality, 31(4):
29–56.
Butler, Judith. 2004. Undoing gender. New York and London: Routledge.
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(103–119). London: Falmer Press.
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London: Sage.
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(www.gogay.co.il/content/article.asp?id=8106, accessed: July 21, 2018).
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Bangladesh, in P. M. Aggleton (ed.), Men who sell sex: International perspectives on
male prostitution and HIV/AIDS (195–212). Philadelphia, PA: Temple University Press.
The Knesset Committee for Promoting Women’s Status in Israel. June 21, 2006. “The 7th
Protocol: Institutional Treatment of Prostitution in Israel” [in Hebrew]. Knesset Internet
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September 10, 2010).
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MacKinnon, Catharine A. 1989. Sexuality, pornography, and method: “Pleasure under
patriarchy”. Ethics, 99(2): 314–346.
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Press.
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(www.gogay.co.il/content/article.asp?id=8097, accessed: September 12, 2010).
Part IV
The feminist struggle

against pornography
10 The liberal disguise of
pornography in public
discourse in Israel
Esther Hertzog
Introduction
The entrance of pornography into Israel’s public sphere emerged through the
cooperation of the media with the pornography industry, through politicians’ sup-
port and the approval of the Supreme Court, in the name of “freedom of expres-
sion/speech”. I argue that the liberal discourse1 played a major role in this process,
mainly as a mask to hide vested interests of both the media and the pornography
industry. I also contend that the patriarchal power structure in Israel, as embodied
by the Supreme Court, paved the way for pornography as a legitimized social/
economic activity. This occurrence took place through the extensive use of the
liberal discourse, namely the “freedom of expression”. The widespread access to
pornography in Israel materialized with the support of political parties and politi-
cians, including female politicians.
The three-year struggle of a feminist coalition against the infiltration of por-
nography into TV and public life in Israel failed to overcome the powerful col-
laboration of male-dominated institutions. The media played a significant part in
delegitimizing the feminist struggle against pornography and in eradicating efforts
to unveil the liberal mask behind which the pornography industry thrives (Hertzog
2002). It is suggested that the vested interests of the media can explain its efforts
to mislead the public by providing deceitful information. The feminist struggle
against pornography involved a split within the women organizations’ coalition,
which created hostile and bitter confrontation among the coalition’s leaders. The
feminist opponents also used the liberal discourse to justify their position.
My article is based on personal involvement in the struggle against pornogra-
phy in Israel, during the years 2001–2004. It started following the approval by
the public council of the satellite channels in June 2001 to broadcast the so-called
erotic channels Vivid, Spice and Playboy Channel. When this decision became
known to the public, the late Dr. Vicky Shiran, a prominent Sephardic feminist
leader, and I simultaneously published op-ed articles in Israeli dailies (Hertzog
2001, July 22; Shiran 2001, July 23). In our articles, we opposed the legaliza-
tion of pornography and its introduction to Israeli TV. Soon after that, the two of
us and Dr. Chen Nardi, a leading male activist who founded the “Newmanism”
movement in Israel, established a wide, unprecedented coalition of 15 feminist
182 Esther Hertzog
and social organizations that was committed to the struggle against pornography
in Israel. The coalition’s activities included participating in Knesset meetings,
meeting Knesset members from several parties, demonstrating against introduc-
ing Playboy Channel into Israeli TV, participating in hearings in the Supreme
Court which discussed the appeals concerning Playboy Channel, preparing posi-
tion papers for the Supreme Court, carrying out a study on court decisions related
directly or indirectly to watching porn in cases of sexual abuse of children and
interacting with journalists. The most important activity of the coalition was the
phrasing of the law against pornography on TV, which was submitted by the
orthodox and religious parties and was passed on July 8, 2002.
The struggle against pornography: the chain of events

The issue of pornography in public life in Israel arose in 2001, following the
legislative process concerning the broadcast of pornography. For some time, it
was practically hidden from the public. Discussing pornography, which has far-
reaching implications for Israeli society, took place far away from the public eye,
in the economic committee of the Knesset, headed by MK Avraham Poraz from
Shinui (a liberal party).
The absence of public visibility regarding the process of legislation on por-
nography on TV served the interested sides quite well. It appeared that both the
media and the pornography industry preferred that the public not be aware of the
legislative process. The collaboration between the media and the pornography
industry was based on common interests, fighting over the concession to broad-
cast pornographic programs.
The government, too, was interested in the profits involved in broadcasting por-
nography, due to the 5% royalties of the annual incomes that must be transferred
to the government.
On July 25, 2001, MK Ig’al Bibi (from the national religious party) unexpect-
edly succeeded, with assistance from his partners in the religious and orthodox
parties, in passing a revision to the Communications and Broadcasting Law. At
that point the issue gained some publicity. Following this move, the Knesset
approved Revision 25 of the communication law, banning the broadcasting of a
channel with programs in which an:
(2a) . . . essential part of them include contents that deal with sex in a way
of showing sexual relations or in a way of showing acts that aim to provoke
sexual arouse or that entail sexual debasement or humiliation or present a
person as an accessible object for sexual use or as being under physical or
sexual torture.
(Article 6(25) of the Communication Law
(Bezeq and Broadcasting), 1982)
Violation of this law would entail punishment of five years in prison or a fine of
7 million shekels.
The liberal disguise of pornography 183
Soon after the law was passed, it was interpreted liberally by the council of
cable and satellite broadcasters, and the pornographic broadcasts continued. With
this background, a coalition of feminist and social organizations was formed. Its
goal was to pass a law, based on a feminist approach, which would effectively
ban the screening of pornography on public channels, raise public awareness con-
cerning the harms of pornography and its connection to women’s oppression and
men’s violence against them, and change the widely accepted view of pornog-
raphy as characterizing a sexually open and free society and its opponents as
reactionary-conservative.
As the cable and satellite companies ignored the law, significantly reducing the
price of pornographic programs and selling them through pay per view, the legis-
lation was transferred to the education committee. This political act, taken by the
religious and orthodox parties, changed the discussion from economic to social
and educational. This change also allowed the re-phrasing of the law in a way that
enabled the coalition’s feminist perspective to be introduced.
Since its beginning, the coalition collected and distributed information and data
concerning pornography and initiated research on the implications of legalization
(Ami and Nardi 2001; Snunit-Forer, unpublished). Members of the coalition col-
laborated with the religious MKs in phrasing the law proposal. Two law propos-
als were brought up to the Knesset plenary. One was submitted by the group of
religious and orthodox MKs, headed by Ig’al Bibi (the feminist version), and the
other was submitted by MK Michael Eitan (from the right-wing party Likud), who
prepared what he considered to be a “compromise” proposal. The latter proposed
that pornographic broadcasts would be allowed at certain hours, thus ensuring
that children would not be exposed to them and that reception would be limited
by means of “wise card”2 or by “pay per view” to prevent incidental exposure.
On July 8, 2002, the Knesset approved the law that prohibits pornography on
TV. Revision 27 to the law [section 6 (25:2)] establishes that:
the owner of a cables’ broadcasting license (2) will not put on air broad-
casts . . . containing obscene content as meant in the penalty law, 1977,
including broadcasts that deal with one of the following:
1 Showing sexual relations that contain violence, torture, debasement,
humiliation or exploitation.
2 Showing sexual relations with a minor or a person seen as minor.
3 Showing a person or one of his organs as an accessible object for
sexual use.
And all [the above mentioned, are relevant] when the broadcasts men-
tioned in sub-sections (1) till (3) are not, clearly, with artistic, scientific,
news, educational, explanatory value that justify in the relevant context, their
broadcasting.
The explanation to the law stressed that pornographic broadcasts are based on
the exploitation of women and minors. It referred to studies showing a close
184 Esther Hertzog
correlation between trafficking in women, pornography and violence against
women.
As soon as the law was passed, Playboy Channel submitted a plea to the
Supreme Court, demanding the right to broadcast its programming. It also turned
to the cable and satellite council, demanding to be allowed to broadcast. The
council declared that its previous decision, which banned Playboy Channel’s
broadcasting, was based on a mistake and hence its members decided that “the
right balance . . . does not ban the broadcasting of the channel . . . but rather per-
mits the broadcasting of the channel under the conditions and restrictions that are
detailed.”3 Against this second decision of the council, two pleas were submitted
on June 18, 2003, to the Supreme Court of Justice: the coalition’s, and that of
MK Gila Gamliel, head of the women’s status committee, with 52 other MKs.
In the hearing on June 26, the two pleas were combined. On March 3, 2004, the
decision of the 11-judge panel, headed by Judge Daliah Dorner, was to turn down
the two pleas.
The coalition’s approach: pornography = violence against

and oppression of women
The coalition against pornography followed prominent feminist scholars, among
them Robin Morgan (1980), Susan Brownmiller (1975), Andrea Dworkin (1974,
1981) and Catharine MacKinnon (1991). “It perceived pornography as an explicit
oppression of women and an expression of discrimination. Pornography is not
only trafficking in women through sophisticated technological means; its mes-
sage is that the woman’s sexuality responds to pain and humiliation, and that
the woman “loves it” and therefore all her protests are lies. Pornography in the
patriarchal culture is, according to feminist interpretation, a harsh anti-female
propaganda that encourages men to be violent in their sexual relations. It presents
rape as a kind of “healthy” fantasy, and thus it encourages sexual violence toward
women and reduces the woman to her sex organs.
Vicky Shiran (2003) argued, in relation to the coalition’s position:
Freedom of expression is not an absolute value . . . as society determines

constantly restrictions on freedom of speech, including the freedom of enter-
tainment performances, like fights among dogs or cock fights, which are pro-
hibited by law. . . . Western liberal society limits the freedom for personal
enjoyment, for example, it forbids the use of drugs, smoking cigarettes in
the work place and entertainment places, and indeed the democratic society
limits the freedom of expression in the framework of slander, incitement,
Holocaust denial, racial talk, protection of privacy, sexual harassment and it
determines even banning of commercial items on TV, like cigarettes.
The coalition’s encompassing rejection of screening pornographic films by com-

panies that receive a government license or franchise was formulated by Shira
Ami and Dr. Chen Nardi, and was phrased in legal language by Attorney Sma-
dar Ben-Natan, who represented the coalition in the Supreme Court of Justice. It
stated that the government should not allow a channel for distributing materials
that are produced mainly through acts of crime, nor should it serve as a catalyst
for such production.
In their publication “Freedom from pornography: A social challenge”, Ami
and Nardi (2001) discussed several studies about pornography and its effects on
the individual, the family and society. They described the damage pornography
inflicts on both performers and observers-consumers. Their main claim was that
most of the actors and actresses in pornographic films are not participating by
free choice; rather, their participation involves exploitation, humiliation, rape,
violence and coercion. Another claim was that watching pornography encourages
people to do things that are inherently coercive and degrading. Also, it was argued
that pornography distorts the perception of one’s sexuality and sexual relation-
ships, affecting family life severely.
The studies presented in Ami’s and Nardi’s publication indicate that the involve-
ment in pornography is not truly voluntary: 75% of women in the pornography
industry were sexually abused as girls; most of them are poor and lack education.
All of these women were introduced to pornography at an early age, often by
fathers who abused them sexually. Many were “collected” by pimps when they
ran away from home, were filmed while being raped and were later threatened
that the film will be sent to their families. A conspicuous example is Linda Susan
Boreman’s (“Linda Lovelace”) story. Her 1972 movie Deep Throat was the first
famous hardcore pornorgraphic movie. In her book and public appearances, Bore-
man claimed that this film documented her actual rape and that she was forced
to take part in it while a gun was pointed at her (by her abusive husband, Chuck
Traynor). Testifying before the 1986 Attorney General’s Commission on Pornog-
raphy in New York, she stated: “When you see the movie Deep Throat, you are
watching me being raped. It is a crime that movie is still showing; there was a
gun to my head the entire time”.4 Responding to Katharine MacKinnon’s question
“How do you feel about the existence of the film Deep Throat and its continu-
ally being shown?” (in the civil rights hearings), Linda Marchiano’s (Lovelace)
testified as follows: “I feel very hurt and very disappointed in my society and my
country for allowing the fact that I was raped, I was beaten, I was put through
two and a half years of what I was put through. . . . Virtually every time someone
watches that film, they are watching me being raped” (MacKinnon and Dworkin
1997, 65).
Women’s coercion in porn films can be demonstrated also by an Israeli porn
actress’ response to a journalist on a TV morning program. When asked about
coercion of women acting in porn movies, she said: “When I did it for the first
time overseas, when I was 16, this could be true, but now that I am 24 this is not
the case and everything is fine” (Nardi and Ami 2001, 14).
The connection between pornography and rape comes up from testimonies,
lab research and correlative studies. Andrea Dworkin documented thousands of
186 Esther Hertzog
women who were raped as the outcome of being “inspired” by porn. One woman
testified:
I agreed to perform many scenes that my husband described to me from porn

films. This included tying me and many other actions that humiliated me. He
related to the porn films exactly as to sexual instruction books. He tied me the
same way as it was seen in the porn scenes in pornographic magazines, so I could
not run away and he asked me to repeat exactly what he saw in the porn films.
cf. Nardi and Ami (2001, 15)
A causal correlation between frequent use of pornography and rape and sexual
violence also emerges from lab research (Ami and Nardi 2001). Analysis of
experiments in which 2,248 people participated revealed that after watching
pornography, sexual violence received stronger support by men and the level of
their sexual violence increased. This correlation was found among violent men,
in particular. These men, in contrast with non-violent men, tended to interpret the
pornographic material as encouraging them to perform rape. In correlative studies
conducted by Sher Height (in ibid., 18), 67% of men who confessed to wanting
to rape a woman reported that they read pornographic magazines, as compared to
only 19% of those who said that they never wanted to rape a woman. The con-
nection between pornography and sexual violence is often raised in the context
of child sexual abuse. In a study of 89 men who raped and abused children, more
than a third reported that their actions took place under the influence of pornogra-
phy. In another study, 56% of child rapists and 42% of child abusers reported that
they were influenced by watching porn (ibid., 19).
Pornography: profiting from exploitation and

oppression of women
Like the arms and drug industries, pornography is, more than anything else, a huge
industry. Karen Gabriel (2017) suggests that the “rapid transnational spread of porn
is a consequence of several factors that include the Internet boom, technological
changes, convergence, capitalist entrepreneurship, and the ease with which the
(sexual) labor of women is commodified and devalued” (109). Already in the first
decade of this millennium, the pornography industry was estimated to circulate over
$56 billion a year in the world and over $10 billion a year in the US alone. Accord-
ing to US government sources, the child porn industry profited some $20 billion
a year (Bialik 2006). However, the estimates are characterized by “nebulousness,
even confusion” (Gabriel 2017, 109), which is explained by the fact that this indus-
try is “highly secretive”, generating “[the] uncertainty around both numbers (how
much money and how many people are involved) and practices (the nature of finan-
cial, labor and other kinds of transactions) in the industry” (ibid., 109–110).
In 2000, just before the struggle against pornography started, it was reported in
the Israeli internet site Walla! that in Israel “Pornography is worth over 55 million
dollars a year for the cables”. Hence, it appears that the economic interests of the
cable companies in legalizing pornography explain the pressures that were exerted
to persuade Knesset members to support their positions and prevent the passing
of the law against porn. Access to the media was a crucial element in recruiting
political support and neutralizing the coalition’s and the public’s objections.
Linda Efroni, a prominent critical Israeli economist, wrote in an op-ed column
in the Israeli economic daily Globes (May 2002) that,
Pornography is a matter of big money [the title]. . . . On the background

of the huge losses [caused by Revision 25 of the communication law, from
July 2001, which prohibited the broadcasting of porn programs], of Tevel
[one of the cable companies] which profited in 2001 over 200 million dollars,
it is easy to evaluate the extent and power of the pressures that are exerted on
members of Parliament who deal with the issue. The satellite company also
lost over 200 million dollars in 2001. In the company’s reports, Tevel, was
written that “there is a fear concerning its ability to continue its activity as a
live business in the future”. But Tevel and Yes [the satellite company] are not
alone. Matav [another cable company] announced recently its loss of about
80 million dollars in 2001.
Efroni’s proposed explanation for MKs’ readiness to support the demands made
by the cable and satellite companies was: “it is possible that Knesset members
take into account the possibility of the cable and satellite companies’ economic
crash and instead of taking care of the public’s good they care for the capitalists
whose big investments failed” (ibid.).
It appears that the connections of Knesset and government members with own-
ers of the satellite and cable companies can explain the legalization of pornogra-
phy on TV better than the ideological discourse. Efroni wrote “they probably rely
on the Knesset members for enabling them to increase their profits, by 80 million
dollars a year, at least” (ibid.). In her article, she relates to ex-MK Zvulun Orlev
(from the religious-national party), one of the MKs who initiated the law against
pornography on TV, and was, at that time, the chairperson of the education com-
mittee, suggesting that:
the economic situation of the cables and satellite companies caused Orlev to
think twice about his original law proposal. Perhaps it was not a coincidence
that after the publication of the cables’ grave business results he changed
his position and today he supports a compromise, which will enable porn
broadcasting.
Interviewed by the journalist Matti Golan, on a radio program, called Documedia,

following the publication of the article, Orlev, who was hurt by Efroni’s criticism,
admitted that he is facing tough pressures, that his political future depends on
the media and that as a Knesset member, he takes a risk when he confronts the
cable and satellite companies (he said, “don’t forget that our future depends on
the media and if we do things that they don’t like they will not invite us”). Hence,
188 Esther Hertzog
we need to follow the money to understand how the pressures that are exerted on
politicians influence their decisions.
Concealing relevant information, preventing public debate and delegitimizing
the coalition’s representatives through the media were major means used to pro-
mote public recognition and acceptance of pornography. Throughout the legis-
lative process, very little information was provided to the public regarding the
economic and social implications of pornography.
As soon as it became clear that the discussions and voting in the education com-
mittee might bring about the emergence of a law to prevent broadcasting of por-
nography, the coalition’s members were delegitimized and sometimes ridiculed
collectively or personally. For instance, in a hostile article in Ha’aretz, a newspa-
per that represents the “liberal intelligentsia” in Israel, the coalition’s leaders were
ridiculed for their cooperation with the supposedly dangerous religious-orthodox
parties; the struggle was portrayed as reactionary, puritan and supportive of reli-
gious coercion and dark forces. When the law was passed, the denouncing voices
grew even stronger. Among the expressions highlighted in the press there were such
as that of ex-MK Michael Eitan, who led the opposition to the law. He claimed:
“Iranian style darkness fell on Israel”.5 MK Avraham Poraz (from Shinui, a liberal
party), another conspicuous opponent of the law against pornography, expressed his
contempt by declaring that the prohibition of broadcasting pornography means join-
ing the Ayatollahs’ company.6 Indeed, this was a typical technique of delegitimation:
ridiculing critical moral claims, presenting the law supporters as enemy of enlighten-
ment, and blurring the implications of women’s oppression entailed in pornography.
The delegitimation of the efforts to pass the law against pornography relied heav-
ily on misinforming the public and ignoring, marginalizing and degrading the coali-
tion’s activity and activists. The law’s opponents presented it as enabling religious
coercion rather than as a major social issue. Thus, for instance, former MK Tamar
Guzansky, the late former MK Dr. Marina Solodkin and former MK Nechama
Ronen – none of who could be suspected of having religious tendencies – supported
the law proposal openly and fully. However, they were ignored by the media, and
their positions could not reach the public. Yet, MK Zehava Gal’on (from Meretz, a
left-wing party) and former MK Yael Dayan (from Labor), were invited to several
TV and radio programs and were widely cited as opposing pornography, yet pre-
ferring freedom of expression and therefore opposing the law. Moreover, former
MK Chusnia Gebara (from Meretz), who supported the law, was prevented by her
party’s leaders from entering the discussion in the education committee when a vote
on the law took place. Her place was taken by MK Ilan Gil’on, from Meretz, who
opposed the feminist law proposal and supported the pro-pornography law.
The criticism against the law: violating the

freedom of expression
Claiming that the law against pornography violates the freedom of expression
was the main argument that was discussed in the public debate, in the media and
in the Knesset. MK Zehava Gal’on became a central advocate of this argument.
Her published views demonstrate the demagogical argumentation raised by the
“liberal camp”. Thus, for instance, Gal’on wrote (in Ha’aretz, June 2002) that:
Pornography presents women as a mere sexual object, provides a legitimation

for treating them unequally, for their oppression and discrimination and per-
ceives them as accessible for sex at any time. However, with all my repulsion
and objection to pornographic publication, I cannot give a hand to reactionary
elements who seek to censor pornography . . . the law proposal that will be
raised in the plenary will dictate to the citizens of the state what is considered
as “obscene”. The danger is that a regime that tells the citizen what to watch
will end up telling one what to think. And, therefore, a struggle against the
contents has to be carried out through education and a serious public debate
and not through legislation and censorship.
This claim, in fact, offers support for the law, which was phrased in similar terms.
Thus, if pornography legitimizes oppression and discrimination of women, how can
it be introduced into the legislation and become a source of income for the state?
How can the state profit from pornography and act as a pimp of prostitution, and
enable its broadcast on public channels? Gal’on and her friends, quite probably and
justly, would never give a hand to state legitimation of oppression and discrimination
against Arabs. Yet, Gal’on and Meretz – which was founded by the late MK Shu-
lamit Aloni with the aim of representing citizens’ and women’s rights – supported
full-heartedly a law which, admittedly, legitimizes oppression and violence against
women. These surprising contradictions can be explained in personal and political
terms. More than concern for freedom of expression and of religious coercion, some
personal and/or political benefits, such as publicity and prestige, could be achieved
by objecting to the law. The explanation for Meretz’s position can also be related to
its panic concerning the late former MK Yosef Lapid, who headed the liberal party
of Shinui and who enjoyed the secular public’s growing hostility to the orthodox
parties, thus threatening to win the support of many traditional voters of Meretz.
An amusing example of how the media pumped the public with the fear about
the materialization of this “draconian” law is an article by Dorit Abramovitz (2002)
titled “Karry will not undress and Semantha will not masturbate”.7 The article, and
the title in particular, implied that religious coercion was expected once the law will
be passed. Consequently, series and movies like Sex and the City would be banned.
It should be noted that the association made by the liberal protagonists between
prohibition of pornography and extreme discrimination and oppression of women
in fundamental Muslim countries is a disturbing and misleading analogy. This
comparison assumes as a self- evident fact that Israel is a modern, advanced coun-
try and enjoys gender equality. However, the commercialization of women’s sex-
uality in the capitalist West – ranging from commercial advertisements and beauty
contests to street prostitution, trafficking in women and pornography – presents
a profound expression of women’s oppression. From this perspective, trafficking
in women and pornography represent the oppression of women no less than the
veil and the strict supervision over women’s chastity in some Muslim countries.
190 Esther Hertzog
Moreover, the two law proposals – the “feminist” proposal presented by former
MK Yg’al Bibi and others from the religious, orthodox and Arab parties, as well
as the “liberal” proposal presented by MK Michael Eitan from Likud – acknowl-
edged the harm that is inflicted by pornography. Even Eitan, who presented the
law proposal that allowed pornographic broadcasts with minimal restrictions,
admitted its harmful impact. In the explanation to his proposal, it says: “There is
no disagreement that porn broadcasts hurt some parts of the public and especially
children”8. When he was asked during the discussion in the education committee
why the harm inflicted on children should be taken into account but not the harm
caused to women, he argued that this issue should be treated somewhere else.
Also, censorship was entailed in Eitan’s proposal just as well, determining limited
times for broadcasting in order to prevent children’s access to the programs.
The objection to pornography unites all women’s organizations in Israel,
although some renounce the sweeping prohibition of the law and the cooperation
with the religious-orthodox parties. Some support partial censorship of “hard”
porn such as pedophilia, zoophilia, necrophilia, snuff and violent sex. Another
rationale offered by these organizations for their objection to the law was that
it would push the industry to go underground. However, this claim excluded
the possibility that the legitimation of porn broadcasting would bring about the
flourishing of this industry, as in fact happened in Israel. The main criticism of
the law against pornography was offered by the feminist organization “Woman
to Woman”. It emphasized the “blurred phrasing of the law which might enable
anti-democratic and anti-liberal elements to limit the freedom of expression of
underrepresented groups, if they will want to”.9 The weakness of this argument
is connected to its intimidating assumption that bad outcomes may happen some-
time in the future, as a result of passing the law. Moreover, any law entails some
harm to individuals’ or groups’ freedom, and any law can be misinterpreted and
misused, especially by powerful groups.
The fact that all parties agreed that children’s access to porn should be pre-
vented is not surprising. Public discourse in Israel, as in other countries, pays lip
service to the “good of the child” while promoting economic and political anti-
social and anti-children’s policy interests. As access to porn sites is rather simple
for children in our technological society, it appears that trying to prevent their
access to pornography on TV is ineffective. It follows, therefore, that the “con-
cern for minors” in Eitan’s “compromising” law is a façade, aiming at convincing
the public that pornography can be controlled, and pretending to be committed
to minors’ wellbeing. It is of interest to note, in this context, that the onset of
censorship on the internet has been already established in the US. The freedom of
children under the age of 13 to surf on the internet has been prohibited.
Summary of the struggle against pornography in Israel and

reflections on its future
Two years before her death (in 2004), and a few months before the Supreme
Court’s decision regarding the appeal of Shin and others against broadcasting
Playboy Channel, Dr. Vicki Shiran, my friend and partner in the struggle against
pornography in Israel, wrote as follows:
One cannot overstate the importance of the feminist struggle in Israel against
the porn channels. It succeeded to introduce the issue of pornography into the
public agenda, while challenging the dominant discourse and positioning the
feminist interpretive perspective at front stage. Clearly, when the Supreme
Court will discuss the law which has been passed in the Knesset it will not be
able to avoid facing, for the first time, the feminist perspective and its reasoning.
(Shiran 2003, 628)
However, in contrast to Shiran’s assumption, the 11-judge panel of the Supreme

Court, headed by Judge Daliah Dorner, ruled unanimously in favor of Playboy
Channel. It ignored completely the coalition’s arguments and sanctified, explic-
itly, the supremacy of freedom of expression over the dignity of humans and
women, and, implicitly, legitimized the objectification of women and of sexual
violence against them.
Relating to the Supreme Court’s ruling, Gila Stopler (2005), a law scholar,
wrote:
The Supreme Court foiled what looks on the surface as the legislator’s inten-
tion to achieve community justice by limiting the great socio-economic
power of the pornography industry to harm women’s rights. By avoiding real
discussion on the petitioners’ arguments and by providing a narrowing inter-
pretation to section 6/25(2) the Supreme Court returned the confrontation
between the porn industry and the feminist movements to the conventional
liberal lines, which emphasize freedom of expression as a negative liberty
and the avoidance of the State from intervening in the private sphere, where
the chances of the latter to succeed are slim. . . . It is of special interest to
realize how that progressive feminist agenda is melting when the efforts to
implement it are being failed with the support of the Supreme Court.
411–412
The severe implication of the sweeping rejection of the feminist coalition’s plea
by the Supreme Court is accentuated by the fact that Daliah Dorner, who was
credited for her feminist decisions on various well known feminist legal struggles,
chaired the panel. Furthermore, the legal discussion took place on the day that
Dorner retired from the Supreme Court. The Supreme Court, and Judge Dorner
in particular, was pilloried following this antifeminist ruling. Thus, for instance,
Stopler criticizes Judge Dorner as follows:
Is it possible that the violation of constitutional fundamental right can be

justified from the point that it is considered justified by the “people”? . . .
Does the fact that the violation of women’s constitutional right to dignity,
which Judge Dorner’s is ready to assume, which is a violation that takes
192 Esther Hertzog
place “under every fresh tree” according to her, can justify its approval by the
Court? Would it be possible to consider, for instance, in times of increasing
racial expressions against Arabs that the Court will rule that Arabs’ consti-
tutional right for dignity and equality should be withdrawn when facing the
right of racist speakers’ for freedom of expression, especially because racial
talk is heard under every fresh tree?
ibid., 408
Some ten years after passing the law against pornography on TV and the Playboy
Channel ruling by the Supreme Court, the significance of the feminist achieve-
ment is fading away. In practice, the porn culture is spreading into every pos-
sible sphere of our lives, resting heavily on technological developments, on the
economic-political power of patriarchal organizations and governing institutions,
and on the financial establishment and the media.
However, one should also mention some significant achievements of the strug-
gle against pornography, and first and foremost the significant success of passing
the law against porn on public TV. Also, the extensive cooperation among wom-
en’s organizations and social organizations was of considerable value, despite the
controversies and the split that took place. More than 15 organizations joined to
promote the public struggle which initially seemed hopeless.
Stopler describes the significance of the coalition’s achievement as follows:
“There is no doubt that section 6/25(2) of the communication law . . . which was
enacted, as mentioned, following the unprecedented feminist mobilization, one
of the advanced laws, indicate the budding absorption of the progressive feminist
agenda in the Israeli legislators house” (ibid., 411).
The coalition has achieved impressive achievements also in relation to the West-
ern world, mainly because the legislation does not stem from a religious approach
but rather from a feminist one, although the religious and orthodox MKs led the
process of legislation in the Knesset. During the coalition’s intense activity, the
public debate on pornography became gradually more conspicuous. A topic that
was far away from the public’s attention and hidden away by the media gained
growing interest among educators, media people and others. Moreover, the under-
standing that pornography, prostitution and trafficking in women are connected
to violence toward women and their oppression is gaining broader recognition in
public discourse, mainstream media and social networks. Some of the concepts
and perceptions that the coalition has used and developed in its publications and
in the Court hearings today play a conspicuous role in public debates on the issue
of pornography. A couple of years after the Playboy Channel ruling, former MK
Zehava Gal’on (from Meretz) submitted a bill (in 2007), that criminalized the pur-
chase of sex. Under the provisions of the bill, purchasing sexual services would be
considered a criminal offense and anyone caught with a prostitute would be liable
to a fine and a sentence of up to six months in prison. The proposal was passed
in a preliminary vote. It was brought up again by former MK Orit Zuaretz in the
following Knesset, but has not passed the additional three stages of the legislation
process. The bill was supported by the Ministerial Committee for Legislation,
the government coalition and the Knesset opposition. I assume that the feminist
struggle against pornography had a considerable part in this development. The
emergence of social networks on the internet must also have had a significant role
in spreading knowledge and advancing feminist attitudes towards prostitution and
pornography.
The increase in women’s representation in the Knesset (which reached 28.3%
in the 20th Knesset [at present], as compared with 7.5% in the 14th Knesset
[18.6.1996–6.7.1999])10 and the growing affiliation of most female MKs to fem-
inist agenda also contributed to a change in the militarist, macho-chauvinistic
culture in Israel. The future of the struggle against pornography depends on the
expansion of women’s representation in the Knesset, on feminist organizations’
activities and especially on the growing feminist consciousness of young men and
women in Israel.
Notes
1 The “liberal discourse” is perceived as the opposite of “radical discourse” following
Daphne Barak-Erez’s (2011) analysis of the feminist approaches (liberal vs. radical) to
interpreting court decisions.
2 It is a card that enables entry to programs.
3 Source: “The background of the appeals”, in the appeal to the High Court 03/5432
SHIN – for equal representation of women and 11 others against the cables and satel-
lite broadcasting council (26 March 2003). http://elyon1.court.gov.il/Files/03/320/054/
l14/03054320.l14.HTM
4 Source: Porn star turned against her former life: Linda (Lovelace) Boreman former porn star
who embraced feminism 1949–2002. The Sydney Morning Herald (29 April 2002). https://
www.smh.com.au/national/porn-star-turned-against-her-former-life-20020429-gdf8c7.
html
5 Source: Bechadrei charedim (4.6.2002). http://www.bhol.co.il/forums/topic.asp?topic_
id=125516&PerPage=15&forum_id=771
6 Source: Ha’aretz (28.8.2002) https://www.haaretz.co.il/misc/1.775914
7 Source: Ha’aretz ((14.2.2002 https://www.haaretz.co.il/misc/1.772142
8 Source: Explanations to the Bezek law proposal (amendment – limitations on broad-
casts for adults) 2001 – MP Miki Eitan's law proposal https://www.nevo.co.il/law_
html/law04/2850.htm
9 Source: Information page issued by Isha-L’Isha, a feminist center Haifa, May–June
2002.
10 Source: The Knesset website. https://m.knesset.gov.il/about/history/pages/womenink-
nesset.aspx https://www.knesset.gov.il/govt/heb/memshalot.asp
References
Abramovitz, Dorit. 2002. Karry will not undress and Semantha will not masturbate.
Ha’aretz, February, 14 (in Hebrew).
Ami, Shira, and Chen Nardi. 2001. Freedom from pornography: A social challenge. Shin,
for equal representation of women and the movement for Newmanism (in Hebrew).
Barak-Erez, Daphne. 2011. Feminist interpretation. Ha’mishpat, 16: 37–52 (in Hebrew).
Bialik, Carl. 2006. Measuring the child-porn trade. The Wall Street Journal Online. April 18
(www.wsj.com/articles/SB114485422875624000, accessed: July 21, 2018).
194 Esther Hertzog
Brownmiller, Susan. 1975. Against our will: Men, women and rape. New York: Simon and
Schuster.
Dworkin, Andrea. 1974. Women hating. New York: Dutton Publications.
———. 1981. Pornography: Men possessing women. New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons.
Efroni, Linda. 2002. Pornography is a matter of big money, Globes, Op-Ed section, May 26
(in Hebrew).
Gabriel, Karen. 2017. Pornography and liberation: Understanding cultures of violence.
Kairos: A Journal of Critical Symposium, 2(1), 109–120 (file:///C:/Users/Ester/App-
Data/Local/Temp/42-1-133-2-10-20180425.pdf, accessed: July 21, 2018).
Hertzog, Esther. 2001. Women against pornography. Ma’ariv, Op-Ed section, July 22 (in
Hebrew).
Hertzog, Esther. 2002. Between freedom of speech and freedom of oppression. Panim, 22:
27–55 (in Hebrew).
MacKinnon, Catharine A. 1991. Pornography as defamation and discrimination. Boston
University Law Review, 71: 793–815.
MacKinnon, Catharine A., and Andrea Dworkin (eds.), 1997. In harm’s way: The pornog-
raphy civil rights hearings. Cambridge. MA: Harvard University Press.
Morgan, Robin. 1980. Theory and practice: Pornography and rape, in In L. Lederer (ed.),
Take back the night: Women on pornography (134–140). New York: William Morrow
and Co (http://s18.middlebury.edu/AMST0325A/Morgan_Theory-and-Practice-Por-
nography-Rape.pdf, accessed: July 21, 2018).
Nardi, Chen, and Shira Ami. 2001. Liberation from pornography: A social challenge.
A document prepared for the coalition against pornography programs on TV. https://
www.dialog-nardi.co.il/%D7%A9%D7%97%D7%A8%D7%95%D7%A8-%D7%
9E%D7%A0%D7%92%D7%A2-%D7%94%D7%A4%D7%95%D7%A8%
D7%A0%D7%95%D7%92%D7%A8%D7%A4%D7%99%D7%94-%
D7%90%D7%AA%D7%92%D7%A8-%D7%97%D7%91%D7%
A8%D7%AA%D7%99-%D7%93%D7%A8/
Shiran, Vicki. 2001. Who needs photographed pornography? Yediot Achronot, Op-Ed sec-
tion, July 23 (in Hebrew).
———. 2003. The feminist struggle against pornography in Israel, in M. Chovav, L. Saba
and M. Amir (eds.), Trends in criminology: Theory, policy and implementation (605–
635). Jerusalem: The institute of legislation and comparative law research (Hebrew).
Snunit-Forer, Tamar. 2003. Pornography in the sexual crimes in Israel – Testimonies from
the field of law. Submitted by the Coalition against Pornography to the Supreme Court.
Stopler, Gila. 2005. The appeal against broadcasting Playboy Channel. In a book review on
Ruth Halperin-Kadari’s book, Women in Israel – A state of their own. Law and Govern-
ance, 8, 404–412 (in Hebrew).
11 Controversy and consensus,
pornography and hate speech
The legal challenge to the
Playboy Channel
Smadar Ben-Natan1
Introduction: local controversy

In 2004, the Supreme Court affirmed the legality of Playboy Channel broadcasts
in Israel, after a challenge presented by a coalition of twelve feminist civil society
organizations. The legal challenge followed a much wider campaign of the same
coalition against the mainstreaming of pornography into television broadcasts,
which was waged in the Israeli Parliament and in the broadcasting regulative bod-
ies (Shiran 2003, 605–635). The organized action won impressive achievements:
a groundbreaking amendment to the Communications and Broadcasting Law,
prohibiting broadcasts portraying the sexual objectification of women, and a simi-
larly groundbreaking decision by the Council for Cable and Satellite Broadcasts
to disapprove the Playboy Channel. The legal challenge in the Supreme Court
involved the constitutional rights to human dignity and freedom of speech, and
was decided by an unusual panel of eleven Justices, reserved for serious constitu-
tional issues. The Court allowed the Playboy Channel to go on air, adopting a nar-
row interpretation to the prohibition in the law, and overruling the decision of the
Council for Cable and Satellite Broadcasts (Kamir 2006, 247–291). In this short
comment, I focus on the way in which the court made rhetorical use of compara-
tive law to legitimize its decision, by creating a false impression of international
consensus over pornography and freedom of speech, thus minimizing and trivial-
izing the internal Israeli controversy over pornographic broadcasts.2
Israel was late to join the world of multi-channel cable and satellite broad-
casts, and did so at a time when feminist discourse obtained prominence. Despite
obviously continued challenges to the rights and dignity of women, organized
feminist action had achieved much in Israel, especially with regard to gender-
based violence. The combination of these two factors facilitated the social and
legal campaign against pornographic broadcasts, at the initial stage of their for-
mal authorization (Shiran 2003, 605–635). The legality of the Playboy Channel
broadcasts was examined according to a new and original article in Israeli law
prohibiting broadcasts displaying sexual relations involving violence, humiliation
or exploitation, sexual relations with a minor or those which “present a person or
any of their organs as a readily available object for sexual use”.3 The legal ques-
tion was therefore, whether the Playboy Channel was presenting women or their
196 Smadar Ben-Natan
bodies as a readily available object for sexual use. Representatives of the Playboy
Channel argued that the channel presented no illegal “objectification”. Alterna-
tively, they claimed that this article is unconstitutional and had to be struck down,
since it violates constitutional rights.
In the decision, SH.I.N for Women’s Equal Representation v. Council for Cable
and Satellite Broadcasting, the Supreme Court ruled that Playboy Channel con-
tent contains no illicit objectification, while affirming the constitutionality of the
restrictive article by interpreting it narrowly, in order to balance it with the free-
dom of speech.4 The Israeli court did not put forward a consistent doctrine of the
freedom of speech, but alternated between various examples, which are crucially
different from one another, without considering these differences. I would not
argue that had the doctrine been consistent, the Playboy Channel would have nec-
essarily been outlawed; this seems unlikely. However, the adoption of a consist-
ent substantiated position on the freedom of speech and specifically on the issue
of content-based restrictions on speech is of the utmost importance, beyond the
question of the Playboy Channel. This position is relevant to other pornographic
content, which may differ significantly from that of the Playboy Channel, as well
as to other content, especially racist expressions and hate speech. It is relevant, for
example, to the Supreme Court’s later decision in the matter of a racist right-wing
demonstration in the Arab town of Um el-Fahem, which follows the same pattern
of judicial inconsistency as to free speech doctrine.5 A more thorough and meticu-
lous analysis of the traditions of free speech in the US and Canada could have
brought about the endorsement of the Canadian approach, which is much closer
to Israeli constitutional doctrine and recognizes limited content-based restrictions
on free speech.
The court relied heavily on comparative law, emphasizing the fact that the
Playboy Channel is broadcast in 175 states across the globe, reflecting an “inter-
national consensus”. In relying on American and Canadian case law, the court
considered these countries as democratic legal systems from which Israel draws
inspiration, not wishing to distinguish Israel as the only country to ban the Play-
boy Channel. However, bundling together 175 states into an international con-
sensus about pornography, and especially treating the American and Canadian
doctrines on freedom of speech as identical, is far from being accurate. Sweeping
aside the differences in the legal traditions of Canada and the United States with
regard to freedom of speech, and the particularities of Israel, demonstrates the
rhetorical use of comparative law in creating an appearance of global consensus
and flattening local controversy.
Transnational controversy: differences in free speech

doctrines in the US and Canada
The portrayal of Canadian and American law as two systems sharing the same view
on pornography is simply incorrect. There are substantial differences between the
two, in terms of their approaches to freedom of speech in general and to racist
and pornographic expressions specifically. I will point out these differences, and
Controversy and consensus, pornography and hate speech 197
attempt to reflect on their possible implications on pornographic and racist expres-
sions in the Israeli context.
In the US, freedom of speech is protected by the First Amendment to the Con-
stitution. According to the American doctrine, most expressions are within the
scope of constitutional protection of free speech, while some are not. Expressions
which are within the scope of this protection are fully protected, while expressions
which are outside its scope are not protected at all. The key principle in the Ameri-
can doctrine is entirely liberal – no intervention by the government in the content
of expression. The main rule is that the government must not distinguish between
various expressions according to their content; any content-based distinction is
in itself unconstitutional. Any expression with content is part of the marketplace
of ideas, and hence merits free speech protection. On the other hand, expressions
which are outside the scope of free speech protection are defined, prima facie, not
by their content, but by the fact that they lack any expressive value and run con-
trary to morality and public order. Expressions which have been excluded from
free speech protection are obscenity, libel, and “fighting” words, which may vio-
late the peace. With respect to the latter category, a causal test of near certainty to
the violation of public order is applied.
The Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms protects the freedom of expres-
sion. However, the Charter stipulates, with respect to all the rights included in
it, that they may be “subject only to such reasonable limits prescribed by law as
can be demonstrably justified in a free and democratic society”. The charter also
protects additional constitutional values such as equality and multiculturalism.
Accordingly, the Canadian doctrine of free speech regards every expression as
falling within the scope of free speech, but every expression may also be restricted
because of other interests or the violation of other rights.
The difference between these two doctrines can be demonstrated through their
approach to expressions of racism. In the US, a restriction of offensive expres-
sions which may disturb the peace has been recognized:
There are certain well-defined and narrowly limited classes of speech, the
prevention and punishment of which has never been thought to raise any
Constitutional problem. These include the lewd and obscene, the profane, the
libelous, and the insulting or “fighting” words – those which by their very
utterance inflict injury or tend to incite an immediate breach of the peace.
It has been well observed that such utterances are no essential part of any
exposition of ideas, and are of such slight social value as a step to truth that
any benefit that may be derived from them is clearly outweighed by the social
interest in order and morality.6
This ruling has been interpreted over the years in a way which eroded its meaning
with respect to the banning of “fighting” words. This interpretation tended towards
non-intervention in content. Political expressions, including racist and inflamma-
tory expressions, which were regarded as having content, gained full protection,
such as an expression of the view that certain races or groups are inferior. In
1992, the US Supreme Court struck down a law by the State of Minnesota, which
banned offensive expressions based on race, religion, skin color or gender, since
the law had illicitly referred to the content of expressions.7 In that case, a burning
cross had been placed in front of an African American family’s house. The burn-
ing cross symbolizes racial hatred (as does the swastika). If a burning beacon had
been placed instead, that would have constituted a disturbance of public order, or
a public hazard. However, since the case involved a burning cross, the act was
legitimized as an expression. Another famous example is the ruling on the neo-
Nazi march in the town of Skokie, Illinois, in suburban Chicago.8 In the name of
free speech, the US Supreme Court authorized the march by the “National Social-
ist Party”, dressed in uniform and carrying swastikas, through a suburb whose
majority population consisted of Holocaust surviving Jews. The Israeli Supreme
Court has followed its US counterpart on this matter when it authorized a march
led by well-known right-wing racist activists in Um el-Fahem, an Arab town in
Israel.9
Things are quite different in Canada. There is no rule of content irrelevance,
and expressions which are regarded as highly offensive due to their discrimina-
tory, equality-violating content have been banned for breaching the principles of
equality and multiculturalism. In 1990, the Canadian Supreme Court rejected the
US approach explicitly, by ruling that legislation which bans racist expressions
is constitutional. In this matter, the Canadian Supreme Court approved the con-
viction of a school teacher who used to teach his students anti-Semitic content
that portrayed Jews as greedy and inferior.10 The court rejected the claim that
the penal prohibition on hate speech and incitement is unconstitutional and runs
contrary to the freedom of speech. It stated that alongside free speech, equality
and multiculturalism should also be protected, adding that the restriction of the
freedom of speech was reasonable in that case in view of the values of an open
and democratic society. The court explicitly addressed the differences between
the Canadian and the American system on free speech, rejecting arguments on the
unconstitutionality of hate propaganda offenses that were based on the American
approach as incompatible with the position of the Canadian legal system:
Having examined the American cases relevant to First Amendment juris-

prudence and legislation criminalizing hate propaganda, I would be adverse
to following too closely the line of argument that would overrule Beauhar-
nais on the ground that incursions placed upon free expression are only
justified where there is a clear and present danger of imminent breach of
peace. Equally, I am unwilling to embrace various categorizations and guid-
ing rules generated by American law without careful consideration of their
appropriateness to Canadian constitutional theory. Though I have found the
American experience tremendously helpful in coming to my own conclu-
sions regarding this appeal, and by no means reject the whole of the First
Amendment doctrine, in a number of respects I am thus dubious as to the
applicability of this doctrine in the context of a challenge to hate propaganda
legislation.11
The Canadian Supreme Court specifies differences that justify the rejection of the
American doctrine. From a historical perspective, the freedom of speech evolved
differently in the US, and from the perspective of content and values, protection
of equality and multiculturalism had been broader in Canada:
The special role given equality and multiculturalism in the Canadian Consti-
tution necessitate a departure from the view, reasonably prevalent in America
at present, that the suppression of hate propaganda is incompatible with the
guarantee of free expression.12
In the same ruling, the Canadian Court criticized the American approach for its
inconsistency. According to the American rhetoric, the protection of an expres-
sion is purportedly unrelated to its content, and such a relation is prohibited. In
fact, however, American law does apply a content-based approach for expressions
which are entirely excluded from the scope of free speech, such as obscenity:
To recognize that content is often examined under the First Amendment

is not to deny that content neutrality plays a real and important role in the
American jurisprudence. Nonetheless, that the proscription against looking
at the content of expression is not absolute, and that balancing is occasionally
employed in First Amendment cases (see Professor T. A. Aleinikoff, “Consti-
tutional Law in the Age of Balancing” (1987), 96 Yale L.J. 943, at pp. 966–
68), reveals that even in the United States it is sometimes thought justifiable
to restrict a particular message because of its meaning.13
The Canadian Court does not rule out the possibility of intervention in expressions
based on their content when these violate equality, multiculturalism and the val-
ues of openness and democracy. Hence, racist expressions may be banned when
these values are balances against the freedom of speech. It also does not endorse
the test of near certainty of the breach of public peace, or more precisely, provides
an alternative interpretation of the term “public peace”, which is not restricted to
physical harm. The court stresses the social harm caused by such expressions:
Disquiet caused by the existence of hate propaganda is not simply the product
of its offensiveness . . . but stems from the very real harm which it causes.
Essentially, there are two sorts of injury caused by hate propaganda. First,
there is harm done to members of the target group. It is indisputable that the
emotional harm caused by words may be of grave psychological and social
consequence. . . . This impact may cause target group members to take dras-
tic measures in reaction, perhaps avoiding activities which bring them into
contact with non-group members or adopting attitudes and postures directed
towards blending in with the majority.
[The second harm is] the possibility that prejudiced messages will gain
some credence, with the attendant result of discrimination, and perhaps even
violence, against minority groups in Canadian society.14
When one examines the approach taken by the Israeli legal system, it resembles
the Canadian approach more than the American one.15 While there is some disa-
greement (insignificant in terms of its consequences) as to whether some expres-
sions should be classified as outside the scope of free speech or not, most Israeli
Supreme Court justices ruled that every expression is within the scope of freedom
of speech, but can be balanced against other constitutional principles. There is a
wide consensus that expressions can be classified according to content, and that
racist expressions may be banned over their content. Israeli law includes offenses
of incitement to racism, and the Supreme Court ruled that these can be reconciled
with the principle of free speech, since the latter is not absolute. The reasons for
restricting racist expression and hate speech were described by the Supreme Court
in the following words:
The exceptional expression in the matter before us may violate the dignity of
a group of people in our country and their human emotions. It may subvert
the social order, the social tolerance and the public peace. It contradicts the
essence and the foundations of a democratic state, and the core principle of
equality between human being. It contradicts our national character, and our
“credo” as well.16
Hate speech is a good starting point for the discussion of pornography. In the
US, pornography has been made analogous to a burning cross. While obscenity
lies ostensibly beyond the scope of free speech, it was decided that in keeping
with time, not every presentation of nudity or sex should be regarded as obscen-
ity. Obscenity is only an expression which appeals to the prurient aspect of sex.
Nowadays, only those sexual expressions deemed especially extreme, such as
pedophilia, are recognized as obscenity. Every attempt to argue against pornogra-
phy as humiliation of women and violation of equality brought about a boomer-
ang effect: The US Supreme Court has interpreted such arguments as implying
that pornography takes a stand on the issue of women’s inequality. Therefore, as
the argument goes, pornography has content and is a protected expression. The
most famous statement by the US Supreme Court in this context was cited and
endorsed by the Israeli Supreme Court in the matter of Playboy Channel:
Indeed, the appellants themselves, who undoubtedly represent significant

trends in society, argue against the harmful consequences of the very views
represented by pornographic contents, thereby declaring the expression in
them, and according to Judge Easterbrook: “This simply demonstrates the
power of pornography as speech. All of these unhappy effects depend on
mental intermediation. Pornography affects how people see the world, their
fellows and social relations”.17
Thus, the feminist argument about pornography’s harmful impact on the social per-
ception of women has been construed as instilling content in pornography, content
whose restriction is prohibited by the First Amendment. The boomerang effect of
the feminist argument turned pornography from a burning beacon (obscenity) to a
burning cross (expression), protected by the freedom of speech.
This analysis is obviously flawed, even according to the American doctrine.
Turning the effects of pornography into views held by pornography misses the
crucial point. It erases the distinction between text and subtext – between a contex-
tual statement presenting a view, and the inadvertent impact of visual expressions.
Pornography does not present views according to which women are inferior, nor
does it present any other views. It is not a political manifesto. Otherwise it would
have been boring; it would not have been pornography. Pornography presenting
women and sex is structured in a manner which influences the viewer in a certain
way, and such influence promotes these views. Even according to the logic of
the American position, one can argue that the presentation does not exemplify
the power of pornography as a political expression, but as one type of “fighting”
words, i.e., expressions with a negative impact on the behavior of people and a
menacing social effect.
In Canada, on the other hand, pornography has been recognized as offensive
and humiliating towards women, causing real social harm, by portraying them as
objects to be used for sex and sexual satisfaction of men, and presenting humilia-
tion and violence towards women as part of sex. Content-based restrictions were
called for, since this content violates the equality and dignity of a group of people
defined by its collective non-voluntary traits. In R. v. Butler (1992), the Cana-
dian Supreme Court issued an outstanding opinion that endorsed the radical femi-
nist view on pornography, grounding the constitutionality of the prohibition on
obscenity on the social harm it bring about, rather than on its moral harm. The
decision drew an analogy between racist and gender-based hate speech.18 Cana-
dian law focused on examining the harm in the expression, not just content that
presents violence, but also to humiliating content that dehumanizes the objects it
presents:
There is a growing concern that the exploitation of women and children,

depicted in publications and films can, in certain circumstances, lead to
“abject and servile victimization” (at pp. 43–44) . . . if true equality between
male and female persons is to be achieved, we cannot ignore the threat to
equality resulting from exposure of audiences of certain types of violent and
degrading material. Materials portraying women as a group of objects for
sexual exploitation and abuse have a negative impact on “the individual’s
sense of self-worth and acceptance”.19
One can undoubtedly learn a lesson from the Canadian Supreme Court on matters
of judicial independence vis-à-vis its American counterpart. The critique of the
American approach, as expressed by the Canadian court, is very powerful. The
Canadian approach to the freedom of speech is preferable since it provides wider
protection to minority groups, strengthens democratic principles and is more
consistent in terms of its reasoning. It is certainly more suitable for the Israeli
tradition in matters of free speech. Contrary to the Playboy Channel opinion,
the Canadian approach should be presented as an alternative to the American
approach, not as its twin.
Inconsistency in Israel
Judging by the similarity between the Canadian and the Israeli doctrines on
the issue of racism, and despite the differences between the Canadian and the
Israeli cases dealing with different questions about pornography, one could have
assumed that the Israeli court would take a similar position. This has not been
the case. As described previously, the Israeli Supreme Court has not adopted a
consistent approach regarding freedom of speech in general and pornography in
particular. It has alternated between the US and Canadian approaches, and failed
to distinguish between them.
Traces of the Canadian approach to pornography can be found in the Israeli rul-
ing on pornography. Due to its restrictions on hate speech, the Israeli court cannot
escape the analogy altogether. Since racist expressions are banned due to their
offensive nature which runs contrary to the principles of a democracy, the court
has to accept the claim that analogous content in pornography should bring about
the same consequence. In a previous Israeli case, the Canadian Butler case was
cited favorably by Justice Aharon Barak, the former Chief Justice:
We have made it clear that pornographic expression may be restricted if

there is near certainty of harming the public peace in a grave and serious
manner. . . . Such harm may justify the restriction of pornographic expres-
sion to the extent of its humiliating impact on women and portraying them
as “sex slaves”, which violates – directly and indirectly – the equal status
of women in our society and encourages violence in general and violence
against women in particular.20
Justice Dorner began on the same path in the matter of Playboy Channel, writing:
Pornography may even cause harm and offense, and therefore it has to be
restricted by the penal law at times, similarly, in this respect, to racist expres-
sions, which also lies, as far as the majority of this court believes, within the
realm of free speech . . . but the harm in an expression does not, as a rule,
remove it from the scope of free speech.21
Although the court mentioned the social harm caused by pornography as a theo-
retical issue, and drew an analogy to racist expressions, it did not proceed with
this approach in assessment of the Playboy Channel broadcasts. It did not examine
the extent of the harm to equality and women’s social status. Rather, the court
balanced free speech against public feelings and dignity of women. Those are
both abstract values that do not involve concrete social harm, and are associated
with the moral harm ascribed to obscenity. The actual harm that pornography may
cause was disregarded and overlooked in the subsequent part of the decision. The
court focused on the degree of sexual explicitness in the Playboy Channel, and
asserts that in comparison to other contemporary manifestations of sexuality in
society, its content is not significantly different. The court concluded that the harm
to protected feelings and dignity is not significant, and does not justify a restric-
tion of the freedom of speech, summarizing in the following words:
We must take caution so as not to return to past times of intensive censor-

ship, which can hardly be reconciled with an open democratic society, which
respects human rights.
In the ranking of pornographic contents, these contents are relatively mild,
and do not amount to the prohibition of obscenity in the penal law. Com-
pare with United States v. Playboy Entertainment Group, Inc. 529 U.S. 803
(2000).
It is understandable that the same conclusion was reached by 175 states
who allow the channel’s broadcasts, many of them being democratic states
whose legal system is close to ours.22
Thus, according to the Supreme Court, it is censorship which jeopardizes human

rights and an open democratic society. Let us recall that the Canadian Supreme
Court used the words “democratic open society”, which appear verbatim in the
Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms, to ban certain expressions due to their
violation of equality and democratic principles. The Israeli court uses precisely the
same wording to allow pornographic expressions in such a society, even though it
previously stated that pornographic expressions violate equality.
The Israeli court’s track record in matters of restricting racist expressions has
been much better, so far, than its track record in matters of restricting pornogra-
phy.23 There may be several reasons for this, and a detailed discussion would lie
beyond the scope of this article. One of the reasons may be that restrictions of racist
expressions is fairly novel, originating in the growing awareness of human rights,
and therefore is perceived as progressive. By contrast, restriction of obscenity and
sexual expressions has existed for generations, based on moralistic and religious
reasons, entirely different from reasons based on human rights principles. There-
fore, as stated by the Israeli Supreme Court, “censorship” in the field of sexual
expressions is associated with a moralistic, conservative and reactionary world
view – the complete opposite of progress. Since there is hardly any disagreement
regarding the negative value of racism, the feminist discussion of pornography
may gain a lot by resorting to the legal and judicial doctrines on matters of racism
and hate speech, drawing the necessary analogies between the two fields.
Controversy and consensus

The uses and misuses of comparative law and legal transplants have been thor-
oughly discussed in legal academic literature. In the early 2000s, the question of
reliance on foreign and international legal sources sparked a controversy in the
US Supreme Court and legal academia. The division was clear: The conservative
wing of the Court was against the reliance on foreign and international law by
the more progressive wing (Cleveland 2006, 3–6). The Israeli Supreme Court has
also used comparative law to justify a self-proclaimed revolutionary and activ-
ist stance (Blum 2008). However, relying on comparative law is not necessarily
progressive. The positions on the Israeli Playboy Channel case are not easily cat-
egorized as conservative or progressive. The narrative of the coalition of feminist
organizations was a progressive one, relying on radical feminist ideas and not on
conservative objections to pornography. Some will disagree with this narrative,
as did the court in rejecting petitioners’ position as supporting censorship, while
identifying the prevalence of pornography as part of an “open and democratic
society”. The case presented radical feminist arguments against liberalism. It
clearly demonstrates that comparative law can be used to promote both conserva-
tive and progressive agendas.
What is more interesting is the use of comparative law to trivialize the contro-
versy around pornography by creating an image of international consensus when
most countries never faced a legal challenge to pornography on television, and
positions about pornography worldwide are far from being uniform. I have shown
how inaccurate the bundling of the US and Canadian approaches to free speech is.
In this case, the rhetorical use of comparative law served to legitimize the court’s
decision as an uncontroversial, obvious and progressive choice of a liberal democ-
racy, while avoiding the deep controversy in Israeli society about pornography.
The unique characteristics of the controversy in Israel, where radical feminist
views gained prominence in civil society, public discourse and legislation, were
flattened by reference to the law of other countries that Israel wants to align itself
with.
Notes
1 The author represented the anti-pornography coalition of social and feminist organiza-
tions in petitions to the Supreme Court of Justice. I wish to thank my countless partners
in the struggle against the broadcast of the Playboy Channel in Israel for their enor-
mous contribution and for our shared work.
2 For a more detailed description and analysis, see Shiran (2003); Kamir (2006).
3 Article 6(25) of the Communication Law and Broadcasting Law, 1982.
4 HCJ 5432/03 SH.I.N. for Women’s Equal Representation v. Council for Cable and Sat-
ellite Broadcasts, 47(3) Supreme Court Reports, 65 (2004).
5 HCJ 6802/08 Ben Gvir v. The Commander of the Northern Police District, Published
in Nevo Legal Database (October 29, 2008).
6 Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U.S. 568 (1942).
7 R.A.V. v. City of St. Paul, 505 U.S. 377 (1992).
8 Albert Smith, President of the Village of Skokie, Illinois, et al. v. Frank Collin et al.,
439 U.S. 916, No. 77–1736 (1978).
9 Ben Gvir v. The Commander of the Northern Police District.
10 R. v. Keegstra, 3 S.C.R. 697 (1990).
11 R. v. Keegstra.
12 R. v. Keegstra.
13 R. v. Keegstra.
14 R. v. Keegstra.
15 The Israeli Supreme Court historically regarded itself as part of the American tradition
of free speech. That was the case since 1953, when the first significant free speech
decision, Kol Ha’am, was written by Justice Shimon Agranat, who received his legal
education in the US (HCJ 73/53 Kol Ha’am v. The Minister of Interior Affairs, 1953).
However, the adoption of the American principles of free speech was incomplete, and
modifications and reservations were included. Justice Aharon Barak, the former Chief
Justice of the Supreme Court, wrote (in 1987) regarding this matter that: “Indeed, now,
more than thirty years after the Kol Ha’am case, one can already speak of the tradition
of free speech which is common in Israel. It derives from the American tradition. It is
close to it. It differs from it” (Aharon Barak, 1987, The United States Constitution and
Israeli Law, Zmanim, 26, 14–19).
16 HCJ 399/85 MK Rabbi Meir Kahane v. The Executive Board of the Israeli Broadcast-
ing Authority, 41(3) SCR, 284 (1987).
17 SH.I.N. for Women’s Equal Representation v. Council for Cable and Satellite Broad-
casts, supra note 3, citing American Booksellers Association v. Hudnut, 771 F.2d 323
(1985).
18 R. v. Butler, 1 S.C.R. 452 (1992).
19 R v. Butler, 43–44.
20 HCJ 4804/94 Station Film Ltd. v. The Israeli film Council 40(5) SCR 661 (1997).
21 SH.I.N. for Women’s Equal Representation v. Council for Cable and Satellite Broad-
casts, supra note 3, 81.
22 SH.I.N for Women’s Equal Representation v. Council for Cable and Satellite Broad-
casts, 89.
23 Kahane v. The Executive Board of the Israeli Broadcasting Authority (41[3] Supreme
Court Reports, 284 [1887]).
References
Blum, Binyamin. 2008. Doctrines without borders: The “new” Israeli exclusionary rule
and the dangers of legal transplantation.” Stanford Law Review, 60: 2131–2172.
Cleveland, Sarah H. 2006. Our international constitution. Yale Journal of International
Law, 31: 1.
Kamir, Orit. 2006. On pornography (graphic prostitution) and human dignity: The deci-
sion that was never written, in M. D. Birnhack (ed.), Be quiet, someone is speaking!
(247–291). Tel Aviv: Ramot – Tel-Aviv University (in Hebrew).
Shiran, Vicki. 2003. The feminist struggle against porno in Israel, in M. Hovav, L. Sebba,
and M. Amir (eds.), Trends in criminology: Theory, policy and practice (605–635). Jeru-
salem: The Saker Institute for Legislative Research and Comparative Law; The Institute
of Criminology, The Hebrew University of Jerusalem (in Hebrew).
Israeli cases
HCJ 6802/08 Ben Gvir v. The Commander of the Northern Police District, Published in
Nevo Legal Database (29.10.2008).
HCJ 399/85 MK Rabbi Meir Kahane v. The Executive Board of the Israeli Broadcasting
Authority, 41(3) Supreme Court Reports, 284 (1987).
HCJ 5432/03 SH.I.N. for Women’s Equal Representation v. Council for Cable and Satellite
Broadcasts, 47(3) Supreme Court Reports, 65 (2004).
HCJ 4804/94 Station Film Ltd. v. The Israeli film Council 40(5) Supreme Court Reports,
661 (1997).
US cases
Albert Smith, President of the Village of Skokie, Illinois, et al. v. Frank Collin et al., 439
U.S. 916 (1978).
American Booksellers Association v. Hudnut, 771 F.2d 323 (1985).
Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire, 315 U.S. 568 (1942).
R.A.V. v. City of St. Paul, 505 U.S. 377 (1992).
Canadian cases
R. v. Butler, 1 S.C.R. 452 (1992).
R. v. Keegstra, 3 S.C.R. 697 (1990).
Index
abandoned 21, 22, 58, 98, 102, 103, 107, argument(s) 7, 18, 27, 35, 62, 80, 89, 153,
132, 143, 149 164, 166, 171, 188, 191, 198, 200, 201
abandoning 69, 100 Ashkenazi 10, 11, 15, 16, 79, 81, 148, 149,
abandonment 101, 154 151, 155, 156, 157, 163, 168, 177
abuse 35, 37, 39, 43, 48, 51, 52, 55, 57, association 27, 31, 34, 36, 39, 41, 68, 78,
62, 75, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 86, 88, 159, 161, 189, 205, 206
100, 105, 107, 125, 151, 158, 167, 173,
182, 186, 201 basis 36, 39, 62, 79, 132, 138, 139
abused 2, 8, 31, 38, 52, 92, 94, 98, 99, 177, Bible 17, 29, 41, 42, 128, 129, 132, 135,
185, 186 137, 138, 142, 143, 145
abuser(s) 91, 95, 186 body 2, 3, 6, 7, 9, 13, 21, 28, 29, 33, 38,
academic 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 19, 39, 43, 54, 58, 59, 63, 75, 77, 86, 88, 92, 94, 96,
45, 48, 51, 102, 159, 169, 170, 174, 100, 104, 107, 111, 117, 122, 131, 133,
177, 203 136, 144, 147, 148, 149, 150, 153, 154,
achievement 161, 177, 192 155, 156, 158, 160, 161, 162, 165, 166,
activity(ies) 1, 2, 12, 13, 14, 20, 27, 28, 29, 167, 168, 169, 170, 171, 172, 174, 175,
35, 36, 38, 39, 41, 46, 47, 52, 53, 54, 57, 176, 178
74, 75, 78, 80, 81, 82, 95, 96, 98, 101, border(s) 9, 11, 14, 23, 35, 65, 67, 75,
106, 107, 158, 160, 181, 182, 187, 188, 77, 78, 104, 105, 119, 122, 128, 152,
192, 193, 199 153, 205
actress 3, 150, 156 broadcasts 18, 183, 190, 195, 202, 203
addiction 9, 20, 23, 91, 92, 93, 94, 114,
120, 125, 154, 161, 163, 164, 173 Cable and Satellite 195, 196, 205
agenda 14, 18, 20, 37, 39, 61, 158, 191, Canada 30, 178, 196, 198, 199, 201
192, 193 Canadian(s) 160, 196, 197, 198, 199, 200,
America 44, 48, 60, 73, 78, 82, 85, 108, 201, 202, 203, 204, 206
157, 199 capital 10, 16, 27, 32, 33, 35, 37, 39, 152
American(s) 6, 12, 14, 57, 122, 144, 145, capitalism 5, 19, 31, 33, 36, 39, 40, 41,
158, 178, 196, 197, 198, 199, 200, 201, 110, 116, 152, 166, 167, 176
205, 206 capitalist 12, 18, 32, 33, 34, 39, 111, 119,
approach 3, 4, 6, 13, 14, 15, 36, 38, 47, 151, 152, 153, 165, 167, 174, 175, 176,
56, 57, 84, 89, 105, 110, 111, 112, 118, 186, 189
121, 126, 148, 149, 150, 153, 154, 156, center 10, 13, 14, 15, 22, 41, 58, 69,
183, 184, 192, 196, 197, 198, 199, 200, 74, 81, 84, 106, 107, 111, 118, 122,
201, 202 143, 144
Arab(s) 9, 12, 16, 79, 80, 81, 85, 104, century 8, 17, 21, 23, 29, 44, 48, 57, 67,
108, 148, 156, 159, 177, 190, 189, 192, 69, 73, 74, 79, 86, 87, 103, 109, 126,
196, 198 129, 138, 147
208 Index
channel 3, 9, 10, 12, 13, 18, 22, 23, 63, 68, discourse 1, 8, 11, 12, 13, 14, 16, 17, 18,
132, 177, 181, 182, 183, 184, 185, 189, 19, 28, 30, 38, 39, 45, 47, 67, 129, 131,
191, 192, 194, 195, 196, 200, 201, 202, 133, 148, 149, 158, 159, 161, 162, 164,
203, 204 165, 170, 173, 174, 175, 177, 181, 187,
child 31, 94, 107, 108, 120, 122, 125, 137, 190, 191, 192, 193, 195, 204
149, 150, 158, 176, 186, 193 discrimination 23, 62, 63, 148, 154, 184,
children 7, 15, 19, 23, 24, 35, 39, 52, 58, 189, 194, 199
65, 79, 85, 94, 96, 98, 101, 103, 104, disguise 8, 146, 181, 183, 185, 187, 189,
115, 132, 135, 137, 148, 160, 167, 173, 191, 193
178, 182, 183, 186, 190, 201
Christianity 11, 30, 96, 127, 132, 135, 143 Eastern Europe 2, 8, 11, 14, 17, 20, 73, 74,
cinema 11, 15, 18, 147, 148, 149, 150, 153, 75, 76, 77, 81, 86, 87, 160
154, 155, 156, 157, 161 economic 1, 3, 4, 6, 8, 10, 11, 15, 20, 33,
citizen(s) 11, 27, 35, 50, 66, 68, 106, 151, 34, 35, 36, 37, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 60,
166, 189 61, 74, 79, 80, 86, 89, 95, 109, 112, 118,
client(s) 8, 12, 14, 21, 30, 35, 45, 46, 47, 119, 120, 152, 159, 160, 162, 166, 167,
51, 52, 59, 64, 81, 85, 99, 104, 106, 121, 177, 181, 182, 183, 186, 187, 188, 190,
122, 125, 127, 150, 151, 154, 156, 160, 191, 192
161, 162, 164, 165, 166, 167, 169, 170, education 100, 105, 146, 157, 161, 183,
171, 172, 173, 175, 177 188, 190
coalition 10, 18, 68, 181, 182, 183, 184, emotional 77, 96, 106, 151, 162, 165, 166,
185, 187, 188, 191, 192, 193, 194, 173, 174, 199
197, 204 established 12, 31, 46, 47, 49, 53, 54, 61,
coercion 1, 3, 5, 66, 119, 122, 185, 188, 189 63, 73, 77, 110, 117, 137, 156, 158, 163,
commercialized 6, 18, 158, 162, 169, 170, 164, 165, 181, 190
176, 177 exploitation 2, 3, 4, 5, 10, 13, 15, 33, 38,
committee 9, 11, 12, 13, 20, 23, 36, 37, 46, 59, 75, 96, 107, 108, 110, 119, 125, 151,
63, 78, 85, 159, 160, 178, 184, 192 155, 161, 164, 165, 166, 167, 169, 173,
communication 3, 122, 182, 187, 192, 175, 176, 183, 185, 186, 195, 201
195, 204
community 18, 24, 28, 29, 30, 34, 38, 39, false 3, 13, 75, 103, 131, 195
63, 64, 65, 69, 80, 81, 102, 106, 161, family 9, 16, 21, 22, 23, 27, 28, 30, 31, 32,
162, 165, 170, 172, 174, 175, 176, 33, 34, 36, 40, 48, 49, 59, 74, 75, 79,
177, 191 82, 92, 94, 105, 114, 115, 116, 120, 126,
companies 96, 183, 187 142, 143, 144, 148, 149, 153, 154, 156,
crime(s) 1, 4, 13, 16, 22, 28, 30, 32, 35, 163, 173, 174, 185, 198
38, 43, 44, 47, 49, 53, 55, 57, 58, 59, 61, female(s) 2, 3, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 13, 20, 23,
63, 64, 65, 68, 69, 75, 95, 107, 120, 121, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 39, 43, 48,
122, 160, 185, 194 49, 50, 51, 52, 55, 57, 58, 62, 63, 64,
criticism 11, 13, 63, 116, 175, 187, 66, 67, 68, 83, 100, 108, 111, 121, 137,
188, 190 138, 139, 140, 141, 142, 147, 153, 154,
cultural 8, 11, 108, 123, 144 155, 158, 159, 160, 164, 167, 181, 184,
culture 1, 5, 9, 10, 11, 15, 17, 19, 22, 28, 193, 201
31, 39, 55, 65, 68, 110, 113, 114, 116, feminist 1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12,
118, 119, 120, 121, 122, 125, 128, 129, 13, 14, 16, 18, 19, 20, 22, 23, 24, 37,
141, 143, 155, 157, 161, 162, 165, 167, 39, 40, 41, 47, 50, 59, 61, 62, 63, 67,
176, 178, 184, 192, 193 68, 69, 84, 87, 98, 107, 108, 111, 112,
cycle 17, 20, 89, 91, 94, 95, 96, 97, 100, 118, 121, 125, 126, 130, 144, 147, 148,
101, 103, 105, 106 149, 151, 153, 154, 155, 157, 158, 159,
175, 179, 181, 183, 184, 188, 190, 191,
decision(s) 18, 62, 102, 126, 131, 168, 192, 193, 194, 195, 200, 201, 203,
181, 182, 184, 188, 190, 191, 193, 195, 204, 205
196, 201, 202, 204, 205 freedom 10, 18, 21, 65, 122, 145, 162, 165,
dependency 6, 10, 49, 51, 75, 77, 78, 92, 177, 185, 190, 193, 197
110, 111, 116, 119 freedom of choice 7, 167, 176
Index 209
freedom of expression 6, 12, 23, 183, 184, 156, 157, 158, 159, 161, 162, 163, 165,
188, 189, 190, 191, 192, 197 167, 169, 170, 173, 175, 176, 177, 178,
freedom of speech 9, 18, 22, 24, 184, 181, 182, 185, 186, 187, 188, 189, 190,
194, 195, 196, 197, 198, 199, 200, 201, 191, 192, 193, 194, 195, 196, 197, 198,
202, 203 200, 201, 202, 203, 204, 205
gay(s) 10, 17, 18, 41, 158, 159, 160, 161, Jaffa 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 87,
162, 163, 164, 165, 166, 168, 170, 172, 153, 173
173, 174, 175, 176, 177 Jew(s) 9, 23, 38, 73, 74, 75, 80, 81, 83,
gender 1, 2, 10, 12, 21, 41, 57, 58, 63, 68, 136, 142, 148, 152, 155, 157, 159, 198
69, 106, 107, 108, 121, 122, 148 Jewish 8, 9, 10, 17, 21, 30, 31, 38, 41, 44,
Germany 14, 75, 78, 87, 160 47, 48, 57, 60, 65, 67, 68, 73, 74, 75, 78,
girl(s) 2, 3, 5, 7, 13, 14, 22, 48, 54, 55, 75, 79, 80, 81, 82, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89,
76, 77, 78, 79, 81, 82, 83, 86, 86, 87, 88, 100, 106, 116, 125, 127, 128, 129, 130,
92, 93, 96, 100, 101, 103, 105, 107, 113, 132, 133, 134, 135, 137, 138, 139, 140,
114, 115, 117, 121, 152, 153, 159, 173, 141, 142, 143, 144, 146, 147, 148, 152,
175, 185 155, 156, 157, 158, 177
globalization 5, 13, 34, 35, 37, 39, 67, 110, Judaism 28, 29, 30, 31, 82, 96, 127, 129,
119, 120, 148, 151, 152 132, 133, 143, 144, 145
Halacha 9, 128 Kabbalah 129, 144, 146

harassment 62, 63, 66, 68, 117, 158, Knesset 4, 7, 8, 10, 11, 12, 13, 20, 22, 23,
169, 184 39, 40, 46, 47, 48, 58, 61, 63, 106, 107,
health 11, 17, 37, 57, 58, 89, 98, 106, 178 141, 145, 159, 177, 178, 182, 183, 187,
hearings 11, 182, 185, 192, 194 188, 191, 192, 193
homosexual(s) 159, 161, 174, 178
house(s) 46, 76, 80, 82, 83, 84, 93, 127, legalization 89, 126, 158, 166, 183, 187
133, 137, 138, 154, 161, 192, 198 legislation 7, 12, 13, 14, 24, 35, 36, 39, 46,
human rights 11, 12, 37, 40, 46, 47, 57, 58, 61, 62, 63, 182, 189, 192, 194, 198, 204
96, 106, 177, 203 legitimation 67, 158, 188, 189
humiliation 2, 13, 51, 164, 169, 182, 183, liberal 3, 7, 8, 9, 10, 12, 13, 15, 17, 18, 50,
184, 185, 195, 200 119, 126, 165, 177, 181, 182, 183, 184,
188, 189, 190, 191, 193, 197, 204
ideology 5, 6, 73, 82, 111, 116 local 1, 8, 9, 10, 11, 15, 44, 46, 47, 48, 50,
immigrant(s) 3, 4, 7, 9, 11, 15, 21, 44, 47, 51, 53, 54, 62,, 77, 81, 85, 86, 110, 111,
49, 53, 54, 57, 59, 65, 73, 80, 81, 86, 91, 120, 127, 151, 152, 156, 157, 159, 160,
125, 152, 156, 157, 159, 160, 161, 168 161, 162, 165, 170, 177, 195, 196
immigration 5, 7, 11, 17, 21, 35, 44, 57,
59, 79, 86, 88 male 2, 4, 5, 7, 6, 8, 9, 14, 15, 16, 18, 19,
incest 22, 31, 90, 91, 106, 107, 108, 24, 31, 32, 34, 35, 36, 39, 40, 43, 44, 45,
137, 138 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 58, 62, 63, 64, 66,
internet 3, 7, 14, 18, 19, 23, 36, 38, 39, 53, 67, 68, 69, 74, 96, 100, 106, 109, 112,
63, 90, 96, 106, 160, 162, 166, 173, 175, 113, 121, 122, 126, 131, 139, 142, 147,
178, 186, 190, 193 158, 159, 160, 161, 162, 164, 165, 166,
Israel(i) 1, 2, 3, 4, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 167, 168, 169, 170, 171, 172, 173, 174,
14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 19, 21, 22, 23, 175, 176, 177, 178, 201
24, 25, 30, 31, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 40, 41, marginal(ity) 30, 38, 104, 131, 132
42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 53, marginalized 2, 8, 39, 90, 99, 103, 172
54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, marriage 9, 22, 27, 32, 33, 34, 75, 82,
66, 67, 68, 86, 87, 88, 89, 91, 92, 95, 96, 103, 126, 127, 128, 134, 135, 140, 141,
98, 100, 101, 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 143, 146
107, 108, 109, 112, 113, 114, 116, 117, masculinity 6, 9, 23, 103, 112, 113, 121,
118, 119, 120, 122, 125, 128, 129, 132, 122, 165, 170
137, 141, 142, 143, 144, 145, 146, 147, media 2, 3, 10, 12, 13, 15, 18, 38, 39, 47,
148, 149, 150, 151, 152, 153, 154, 155, 48, 54, 55, 57, 105, 157, 158, 159, 160,
210 Index
161, 162, 170, 176, 181, 182, 187, 188, police 10, 12, 13, 15, 16, 19, 20, 28, 43,
189, 192 46, 48, 52, 54, 55, 61, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67,
Midrash 29, 138, 142, 144 68, 69, 75, 78, 94, 95, 98, 104, 107, 121,
Minor(s) 12, 15, 20, 39, 48, 51, 52, 53, 56, 126, 156, 204, 205
103, 125, 157, 160, 174, 183, 190, 195 policing 16, 61, 64, 65, 67, 68, 69
Mizrahi 10, 15, 16, 18, 65, 148, 149, 150, population 2, 9, 10, 12, 23, 35, 57, 80, 87,
153, 154, 155, 156, 157 125, 127, 129, 156, 198
money 2, 4, 8, 21, 22, 23, 29, 34, 38, 53, porn 3, 4, 8, 19, 20, 21, 23, 24, 158, 169,
55, 58, 59, 63, 74, 76, 77, 82, 92, 93, 94, 170, 176, 182, 185, 186, 187, 190, 191,
95, 104, 107, 109, 110, 121, 128, 133, 192, 193
134, 153, 154, 158, 163, 165, 168, 171, pornography 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11,
172, 174, 175, 186, 187, 188, 194 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 18, 19, 21, 22, 23, 24,
moral(ity) 1, 5, 7, 17, 29, 30, 38, 47, 55, 34, 36, 40, 41, 58, 59, 107, 121, 145,
56, 68, 79, 80, 81, 84, 85, 129, 132, 133, 147, 158, 161, 169, 170, 178, 181, 182,
147, 150, 158, 161, 166, 167, 168, 176, 183, 184, 185, 186, 187, 188, 189, 190,
188, 197, 201, 202 191, 192, 193, 194, 195, 196, 200, 201,
mother(s) 8, 15, 31, 48, 52, 76, 77, 87, 91, 202, 203, 204, 205
96, 101, 103, 105, 115, 128, 130, 131, poverty 9, 15, 38, 43, 44, 77, 84, 119, 150,
132, 137, 138, 139, 140, 142, 144, 148, 153, 154, 160, 163, 164, 165, 168
153, 154, 155, 156, 160 pregnant 76, 149, 156
prison 52, 78, 133, 182, 192
newspapers 13, 75, 79, 86, 88, 174 prostituted males 159 – 178
prostitution: and culture 125 – 157;
objectification 4, 45, 55, 57, 147, 155, 167, prostituted females 73 – 122; and the sex
170, 176, 191, 195, 196 industry 1 – 24; and the State 27 – 69
organizations 11, 12, 13, 20, 22, 35, 37, purity 27, 28, 30, 40, 129
39, 44, 46, 63, 64, 66, 78, 96, 100, 103,
118, 161, 181, 182, 183, 190, 192, 193, rape(s) 4, 5, 21, 28, 34, 35, 40, 64, 86, 89,
195, 204 90, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 102, 103, 106,
108, 117, 125, 126, 145, 149, 152, 153,
Palestine 8, 17, 21, 57, 61, 73, 74, 79, 158, 169, 173, 184, 185, 186, 194
80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 127, refugees 38, 159, 160
144, 157 religion 7, 8, 10, 17, 21, 28, 29, 30, 32, 96,
Palestinian(s) 14, 15, 65, 67, 69, 89, 100, 106, 122, 129, 131, 134, 144, 198
104, 133, 148, 153, 155 religious 8, 9, 10, 12, 15, 27, 31, 36, 47,
parties 8, 9, 12, 46, 54, 73, 92, 94, 100, 61, 84, 89, 129, 148, 161, 182, 183, 187,
158, 163, 164, 181, 182, 183, 188, 188, 189, 190, 192, 203
189, 190 report(s) 3, 7, 8, 11, 12, 14, 19, 20, 24,
patriarchal 2, 4, 5, 7, 13, 15, 31, 32, 33, 34, 29, 34, 35, 36, 37, 40, 45, 46, 47, 48,
43, 45, 50, 100, 101, 102, 103, 109, 111, 53, 58, 59, 61, 62, 63, 68, 76, 78, 86,
114, 116, 117, 119, 120, 126, 147, 148, 88, 106, 107, 121, 125, 141, 160, 187,
169, 181, 184, 192 204, 205
patriarchy 2, 4, 5, 6, 13, 15, 19, 30, 31, romantic 6, 33, 34, 39, 41, 66, 82, 102,
32, 33, 39, 41, 109, 111, 116, 118, 120, 167, 177
122, 178
pimp(s) 4, 17, 22, 35, 39, 48, 49, 51, 52, seduction 76, 77, 138, 139, 140,
58, 59, 60, 63, 64, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 80, 142, 144
82, 83, 84, 89, 92, 93, 94, 95, 104, 106, sexual abuse 35, 89, 90, 91, 93, 96, 105,
127, 161, 167, 168, 185, 189 107, 151, 158, 167, 173, 182, 186;
Playboy 7, 18, 22, 158, 181, 182, 184, exploitation 3, 10, 13, 38, 59, 107,
191, 192, 194, 195, 196, 200, 201, 202, 108, 201; relations 3, 7, 13, 31, 32, 33,
203, 204 34, 96, 134, 141, 182, 183, 184, 195;
Index 211
violence 7, 68, 69, 95, 106, 170, 184, TV 8, 9, 11, 10, 18, 68, 177, 181,
186, 191 182, 183, 184, 185, 187, 188, 190,
shame 55, 76, 80, 81, 83, 84, 85, 90, 91, 192, 194
92, 128, 156, 174
silence 16, 43, 54, 89, 90, 91, 94, 95, United States 18, 75, 79, 81, 82, 85, 102,
96, 97, 98, 100, 101, 102, 103, 105, 169, 170, 196, 199, 203, 205
106, 131
silencing 11, 17, 54, 89, 98, 101, 102, victim(s) 3, 6, 13, 18, 24, 34, 40,
105, 131 43, 45, 46, 47, 49, 50, 51, 52, 54,
slavery 50, 57, 58, 103, 164 55, 56, 59, 66, 69, 75, 77, 90, 91, 92,
state 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 101, 103, 107, 108, 111, 113, 114, 117,
17, 19, 20, 21, 24, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 126, 149, 152, 155, 157, 169, 172,
33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 46, 61, 173, 175
66, 67, 68, 69, 107, 121, 127, 147, 148, violence 1, 3, 5, 6, 7, 12, 14, 15, 16, 19,
150, 189, 191, 194, 196, 200, 203 21, 22, 24, 38, 40, 49, 57, 58, 59, 60, 62,
suicide(s) 51, 60, 151, 173 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 76, 89, 92,
Supreme Court 10, 12, 18, 52, 55, 62, 181, 95, 96, 97, 99, 101, 102, 105, 106, 115,
182, 184, 185, 190, 191, 192, 194, 195, 118, 119, 121, 141, 153, 170, 183, 184,
198, 199, 200, 201, 202, 203, 204, 205 185, 186, 189, 191, 192, 194, 195, 199,
201, 202
Talmud(ic) 17, 128, 133, 135, 137, 138,
139, 142, 143, 144, 145 Yiddish 73, 86, 88, 148, 157
television 2, 3, 8, 12, 63, 157, 159, youth 6, 8, 15, 20, 65, 82, 100, 160, 161,
195, 204 162, 164, 166, 173, 174, 178
treatment 2, 13, 46, 56, 64, 66, 69, 92, 99,
107, 173, 178 Zionist 31, 73, 78, 82, 83, 155

(Routledge Research in Gender and Society, 75) Esther Hertzog, Erella Shadmi - Prostitution, Pornography and Trafficking in Women - Israel's Blood Money-Routledge (2019)

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(Routledge Research in Gender and Society, 75) Esther Hertzog, Erella Shadmi - Prostitution, Pornography and Trafficking in Women - Israel's Blood Money-Routledge (2019)

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Prostitution, Pornography

and Trafficking in Women

69 The Romani Women’s Movement

70 Affective Inequalities in Intimate Relationships

71 Masculinities, Sexualities and Love

72 Body, Migration, Re/constructive Surgeries

73 Gender and Migration

74 Gender and Precarious Research Careers

75 Prostitution, Pornography and Trafficking in Women

For a full list of available titles please visit: www.routledge.com/sociology/

Edited by Esther Hertzog and

Notes on contributors vii

Introduction: perspectives on the sex industry in Israel 1

1 Prostitution and the state: Israel illustrated 27

2 Women who traffic for sex, and criminal court rulings:

3 [Trade in] women and the Israel police: an irresolvable tension? 61

4 Prostitution and the white-slave trade in Palestine at the

5 Cycles of voiceless silence and silencing 89

6 Circles of influence: Israeli men as sex tourists in Thailand 109

7 Prostitution: myth and reality 125

8 Feminist Israeli cinema: fighting prejudices against

9 Male prostitution, morality and dissident pleasures: critical

10 The liberal disguise of pornography in public discourse in Israel 181

11 Controversy and consensus, pornography and hate speech:

Entangled in the sex trade: trafficking in women, prostitution

The scope and impact of the sex industry

Hence, pornography is prostitution in an imaginary scope. Its influence is broader

Prostitution and choice

1 Prostitution is only sex of two consenting adults.

Prostitution and patriarchy

literally meaning “power of the phallus”, it is a cultural system symbolized

Although associating “patriarchy” and “imperialism” with “phallocracy” is being

Pornography: normalizing sexual commodification of and

The sex industry in the Israeli context

The background of the sex trade in Israel and the feminist

About the book

The state and the sex trade

The association of sexuality and pollution in myths

Biblical roots of sexuality and prostitution

The patriarchy and the state

One sex-capital continuum for family and prostitution

Prostitution in the modern Western world

Israel – globalization impact on prostitution

I suppose, as everyone could understand that the phenomenon exists due to

MK Reshef’s words correspond with long years of legislative policy. In 1962,

Israel is a destination country for trafficked people, primarily women. Women

Discussion and conclusions

A critical socio-historical overview of trafficking in women

The “discovery” of a social problem

Disappearance or changing forms of women as victims

Women who abuse other women for sex

Sad stories of lost women who traffic: total institution,

Sex trafficking and total institutions

Trafficking and post-traumatic stress disorder

Trafficking and Stockholm syndrome

Some critical remarks and insights: court rulings

Plea bargains, managerial routines and banalization of suffering

[T]he first U.S. State Department Report on Trafficking in Persons, issued in

The question, therefore, is: why?

Jewish migration and trafficking in women

In another newspaper, it was reported that: “Akiva Meir Wilberreich – 41 years

Prostitution and trafficking in women in Palestine at the

Prostitution, as we know, is not an alien growth in the East in general and in

Notes on contributors vii

Introduction: perspectives on the sex industry in Israel 1

1 Prostitution and the state: Israel illustrated 27

3 [Trade in] women and the Israel police: an irresolvable tension? 61

5 Cycles of voiceless silence and silencing 89

6 Circles of influence: Israeli men as sex tourists in Thailand 109

7 Prostitution: myth and reality 125

10 The liberal disguise of pornography in public discourse in Israel 181

• 10. Polical and legal systems