The raging grannies
As part of this week’s Vanunu campaign, anti-nuclear demonstrators from Israel and abroad held Thursday a protest at the Rotem Junction near the Dimona Nuclear Pile. A conspicuous feature at this event was a performance by a group of white-haired women, wearing kitchen aprons and wide-brimmed hats decorated with plastic flowers. Known as "The Raging Grannies", they have become an increasingly common feature at demonstrations and gatherings of the peace movement.
The following excerpts are taken from an interview with two members of the group, Aliya Straus and Hava Keller, published on April 5 in the Anashim weekly. (Interviewer: Sharon Pe'er; translation: TOI staff.)
"The phenomenon started in Vancouver, Canada, in the late 1980's" says the 69-year old Aliya Straus, speaking Hebrew with a clear trace of an Anglo-Saxon accent. "A group of women just decided they did not care if people made fun of their singing. They told themselves: "At our age, we don't have to prove anything to anybody, we can do as we please." They started to fit new words, words of social and political protest, to familiar tunes, and took the name Raging Grannies. Soon, it spread all over North America. Nowadays, I think there is hardly a self-respecting American city without its own group of Raging Grannies. They sing about Bush, about Iraq, about globalization, about the environment, about all kinds of local issues. In general they tend to the left, I did not hear of right-wing or conservative groups.
I encountered it first when I had a lecture tour in the US three years ago, with women's organizations in various cities. At one location somebody brought Raging Grannies songs and we all started singing them and it was great fun. The women advised me to start such a group in Israel. At first I was hesitant, but when I came back there was a very enthusiastic response from other women and the group formed itself almost at once.
Hava found a friend of hers who wrote excellent words. For example, there is the famous song "There is a hole in the bucket" from which she made "There is a hole in the morality" with words about what the army’s activities in the Territories. Afterwards Hava and me got confidence enough to start writing words ourselves, biting political words for all kinds of well-known Israeli tunes. We were surprised at how easy it was and the enthusiastic response we got. You don’t need to fit the standatrds of a professional singer in order to get an enthusiastic response!
We now have between four and eight women participating in the performances, most of them veterans of Women in Black. Not all of them are actually grandmothers, though most are. At 69 I am the youngest, and Hava is the oldest (76).”
Except for the Vanunu campaign, one of the most recent and successful "Raging Grannies" performances was during "The Conference of the Dispossessed" (Veidat Ha'ashukim in Hebrew) which is held every year in the parking lot outside a luxury hotel while the hall inside houses the "The Business Conference of Israel" (Veidat Ha'asakim).
Their songs cover a wide range of topics. "The Kingdom of the Dwarves” has acquired new words: "In the Kingdom of the Dwarves/The army puts on uniform and goes to war/the bullets whistle through the air/and the papers sing lies in chorus/oh how nice and wonderful/to go to such a pleasant war/" And "Hallelujah" had become a panegyric for Netanyahu's economic policy "Wonderful, wonderful, Hallelujah, the money goes to the rich and the settlers. Wonderful, wonderful, Hallelujah, we are all broke, nothing left to us at all. Wonderful. wonderful, Hallelujah, we sing God's praise for the time of plenty.
Hava Keller was born at Lodz, Poland ("at a left-Zionist Jewish home" she says) and came to this country with her family in 1941, at the age of twelve. She studied at a Labor Movement school in Tel-Aviv, and afterwards was among the founders of Kibbutz Sa'ar in the north. "I was a member of the Hagana militia, and at night I participated in putting up posters against the British rule on the walls of Tel-Aviv. In 1948 I was a soldier, a combat soldier. I insisted on being sent to combat, I said that women could do it no less well than men and that I could prove it. That was my Zionist period".
- When did you cease being a Zionist?
"I remember the precise day. It was in 1949, the time after the War of Independence. Every day, on my way to working in the fields, I was passing an abandoned Arab village whose people had been expelled during the war. Nice houses and a lot of trees. I told myself that now the war was over and we got our state, peace negotiations would soon be opened and the people would come back to their village. But one morning I saw the village as usual when I walked to work, but when I came back in the afternoon it was not there any more, not a trace was left. The army had come and totally razed it to the ground in just a few hours, so that the people would never be able to come back. That was the day I ceased to be a Zionist.
At Kibbutz Sa'ar, Hava met her life-long partner, Ya'akov Keller. "We had a funny wedding in 1950. Just a small family affair in Tel-Aviv. In the middle we had to leave our guests and go back to the kibbutz, because we both had to get up for work early the next morning. No honeymoon, it was a very Spartan time".
Hava and Ya'akov left the kibbutz a few years later. "I found work in the philatelic service, of all places. Later I went to the university and started to teach history and civics. That coincided with the birth of my son and daughter. And meanwhile I also became more and more left-wing in my political involvement."
Not exactly. He is rather left of centre, his criticism is much more muted than mine. We try not to talk too much of politics. Because when we do, the sparks can start flying. When it is about a Palestinian getting killed, Ya'akov says "I never approved of such things, but..." and the "but" infuriates me. If there is suicide bombing, it is the other way around.
- What kind of "but" can there be when a suicide bomber murders women and children? Do you not condemn it?
Of course I am against any harm to innocents. But I don't see how that is different from an Israeli air force pilot dropping a one-ton bomb on Gaza and killing civilians. Except that the pilot finishes the bombing run and goes home to eat breakfast with his family, while the suicide bomber also sacrifices his own life.
- But the pilot does not know that he is killing women and children.
Sorry, I don't buy that. When he drops a large bomb on a very crowded place like Gaza, he must have realized the consequences. Perhaps he tries to lie to himself, but these innocent civilans are still dead. But yes, you have touched on one of the themes on which Ya'akov and me are divided.
Aliya Straus was born nearly seventy years ago at St. Louis, Missouri. From her family background one may have predicted right-wing opinions rather than ones on the left. "I grew up in a very Zionist home. Actually, my father was born in Jerusalem. When he was young his family left the country and went to the US because of very bad economic conditions. They had hardly enough food, my father's young brother died of typhoid and his parents were afraid it would happen to him.
My father himself was never reconciled to it, always felt that a Jew's duty was to make Aliya to Eretz Yisrael. He volunteered for the Hebrew Battalion in the British Army which fought the Ottomans in the First World War. After the war he tried to stay here but did not find work and a friend convinced him to go to back to the US, make some money and come back. But then he married the friend’s sister and there was always one thing or another so he never came back. He could only give me the name I still bear, to remind the unfulfilled Zionist duty."
- How were the Arabs talked about in your childhood home?
The subject was just not mentioned. Also not when we held an enormous great celebration to mark the date when the state of Israel was declared. My father was totally euphat that time.
Keller: I should add that I too was euphoric then. On that day I travelled from the north, dozens of kilometres on bumpy roads, just in order to take part in the dancing on the streets of Tel-Aviv.
- At a distance of 57 years, what do you think of it?
Straus: Our celebrations then were not entirely in vain, but we were very naive. I am not against the state of Israel, I can't even say I am no longer a Zionist. But I definitely want a very different kind of country to live in.
Keller: I, too, was naive. Now I understand that we must have two states for two peoples, because it is too early to try one state for both.
Straus: I feel the same.
Straus: As was expected of me, I was in the Ha'bonim Youth movement. In 1953 the movement sent me to Israel, to spend a year in a Kibbutz. I loved it, loved every moment. Politically I was then vaguely left of centre, a great admirer of Ben Gurion.
Keller: I never liked him, even when I was an ardent Zionist. One day in the 1940’s, when I was in the Galilee and desperately trying to catch a ride to my parents’ home in Tel-Aviv, I waved to a passing car with only one occupant. At that time such a car would usually stop and offer a ride. But it was Ben Gurion, driven by his chauffeur, and he passed without a glance.
Straus: After the year in the Kiubbtz I went back to the US and was an instructor in a Zionist Youth Movement summer camp. The chief instructor was an Israeli named Zvi Straus, and we kept contact when he went back to Israel. His wife was very ill. A year after she died, I went to Israel and married him. My parents were not happy with my marriage to a widower, nine years older, who already had a small girl from his earlier marriage. But my father consolated himself that at least I was doing the Zionist thing at last and going to live in Israel.
- Does your husband share your views?
Straus: He is less radical than me, but we don’t usually have sparks flying when we talk politics. Recently we had a visit by family members from America, very conservative people. You should have seen Tzvi fiercely defending my left-wing views, I was really proud of him.
Keller: Ya’akov also has sometimes an impulse to defend me against the attacks of outsiders.
After several years at Kibbutz Gesher Ha'Ziv, the Strauses bought a farming plot at Moshav Bney Zion. As well as maintaining the farm Zvi worked for thirty years as a tourist guide, while Aliya taught English - which she still does. Then they sold the farm and moved to Jaffa.
We were a bit too soon in selling our plot. Today it could have made us nearly millionaires. In 1992 it was just enough for the Jaffa apartment with a small surplus, not more.
After the Yom Kippur War we joined several times the protests organized by Moti Ashkenazi, demanding the resignation of Golda Meir and Dayan because of their responsibility for the military fiasco. But the real beginning was some years later. When I worked as a teacher at the Open School in Rishon Le'Zion, the mother of a pupil invited me to join her to woman's group called "Bridges to Peace and Coexistence". It was really the first time that I met Arabs as equals. Until then, my main contact was with hired farm hands. Bridges organized regular mutual visits between Jews and Arabs. In the Arab town of Tyra I told a man "In fact, we are neighbours, I live in Bney Tzion". And he said "Yes, you live on the confiscated land of my uncle". I felt terribly shocked and embarrassed, I never realized such things until that evening.
I suddenly realized that things were done in this country which were hidden from me, things which people did not know about or they just preferred not to know. It made me more inquisitive and critical. Later, when we moved to Jaffa, I became aware of very much neglect and discrimination against the Arab population there (and in the country in general).
Straus and Keller first met in the weekly vigils of the Women in Black, protesting "The injustice of the occupation" and became close friends. Keller, who has difficulty walking after suffering a stroke a few years ago, gets her friend's help in getting to various events and meetings. "She had a stroke, but she is as sharp and clear as ever" says Strauss proudly.
Straus: Definitely.
Keller: I never gave it a thought, but I also never thought of going to live elsewhere.
Straus: I have a big family in America and I often visit, but my home is here.
- How much of your time do you devote to political action?
Keller: a lot. I sleep eight hours a day, and am at home a few hours more, but most of my time is for activities. There is a demonstration nearly every week and all kind of routine activities. I spend a lot of time in things connected with women political prisoners in the Israeli prison system.
Straus: I also give a lot of hours, day and night. I feel obliged. Some time ago one of my daughters, who lives in Jerusalem, asked for my help in taking care of her children for the months it took her to complete her university degree. Now, I had no doubt that I should help her. Also, I definitely enjoyed having such intensive time with the grandchildren. Still, I also felt a bit guilty that for four months I did not take part in monitoring the army checkpoints on the West Bank, which I usually do in Machsom Watch. This made me feel negligent.
Keller: I would not last very long with such a life.
Straus: There is nothing wrong with having these things in your life: grandchildren, family, cooking. Nothing wrong with it as long as it is not the only content in your life.
Keller: I also take care of animals, at present I have a dog and three cats and I also feed stray cats on the street.
- Do the animals live in coexistence?
Keller: Sure, in fact my dog seems to think he is a cat.
- What reactions do you get in your environment?
Keller: Two years ago some right-wingers demonstrated in front of my home, I don't remember exactly why. I felt a bit uncomfortable towards the neighbours, but did not cause a real problem.
Straus: Everybody in my building knows where I stand politically, and it never caused any problem.
- What do your husbands think about your intensive political activities?
Straus: Tzvi thinks I am too active and that I don't take enough care of my health, that I am running too fast and spend too much time outside the house. He would be happy if I were to cut my activity down by a half.
Keller: My husband thinks exactly the same, but he knows there is no chance I would do it.
- What about your children and grandchildren?
Keller: My son is a very busy political activist himself. My daughter lives in small community in the Galilee and is not so involved in politics, but she feels that if it satisfies me its' O.K.
Straus: My children tend to think like their father. My daughter sometimes says it would not hurt me to miss a demonstration once in a while.
- And your grandchildren?
Keller: My grandchild Uri, now 21, refused to enlist and spent quite a bit of time in the military prison. I was very proud of him. His father, my son, also refused military service, but only when he became a reservist. When he was a conscript he in fact wanted very much to be a combat soldier, like I did at the same age.
Straus: I have five grandchildren, from six to twelve years old. Some of them went with me to demonstrations when they were small. But one of my sons-in-law is a right-winger, and his children are sometimes trying to provoke me. One boy said to me "Grandma, I hate Arabs!" trying to get an outburst out of me. I just told him "I don't think you would really hate them if you get to know them. And I love you anyway" (which is the truth). I am frightened about the way this country is headed, athe future which these kids are going to have. All of us are. We are grandmothers, after all."