However, in the modern geopolitical context, these two identities are often perceived as irreconcilable opposites. The Jewish Museum Munich has decided to challenge this stereotype by presenting a new exhibition that explores the commonalities of the two cultures and the phenomenon of hybrid identity that persists despite historical rifts.
The exhibition is titled “Yalla: Arab-Jewish Touchpoints.” The word “Yalla” is familiar to many: in Arabic, it is a call to action—”Let’s go!” or “Come on!” Today, this word has become a linguistic bridge, widely used in modern Israel as well. The fact that nearly half of Israel’s Jewish population—the so-called Mizrahim—have roots in the Middle East and North Africa often fades into the background of the news agenda. Seven artists whose works are presented in the museum’s halls have attempted to make sense of this complex heritage, transforming personal biographies into artistic statements.
Intertwined Traditions
One of the central and most emotionally charged works in the exhibition is an object consisting of two intertwined fabrics. It features a black-and-white tallit—a traditional Jewish prayer shawl—and a woven rug that visually references prayer mats used in mosques. The creator of the installation, Joseph Sassoon Semah, deliberately rolled them together, creating a single whole. This gesture can be interpreted as both a political manifesto and a deeply intimate confession of love for both cultures that shaped the artist’s identity.
Semah’s biography is itself an illustration of the exhibition’s theme. Born in 1948 in Baghdad, he is the grandson of the city’s last Chief Rabbi. Until 1951, Iraq was home to a thriving and influential Jewish community numbering tens of thousands. His family’s history is one of a sudden break from a home that had been theirs for centuries, and an attempt to maintain integrity in new conditions where their former identity began to seem “out of place.”
Between Two Stools: Arab-Jewish Identity
Ulrike Heikaus, representing the Jewish Museum Munich, notes that for the modern European viewer, the phrase “Jew with Arab roots” often sounds like an oxymoron. She emphasizes that the rigid opposition of these concepts is a product of relatively recent history. The roots of the current alienation lie in 19th-century colonial policy, the rise of national movements, and the tragic events of the 20th century, including the influence of European antisemitism and the subsequent creation of the State of Israel.
These historical processes artificially separated what had functioned organically for over a thousand years. The integration of Jews into the Arab space was so deep that their artificial extraction led to increased violence and inequality. Joseph Sassoon Semah’s work, featuring the roll of prayer fabrics, vividly illustrates this status quo: the installation does not rest on solid ground but is balanced by its edges on two chairs. It hovers in the air, deprived of a foundation, symbolizing the fragility and instability of those caught at the junction of two conflicting worlds.
Rupture in Art and Culture
The concept of “fracture” and fragmentation is evident in almost every exhibit. All seven participants are members of the Mizrahi community, whose ancestors came from Egypt, Morocco, Iraq, or Lebanon. For them, the internal rupture is not just a negative experience but a space for creativity and the search for new meanings. Artist Hori Itzhaki, born in Israel to a family from Iraq and Morocco, presented a six-meter pine tree suspended in space.
This tree is a powerful symbol of the Zionist project to transform the landscape: after the state’s founding, lands were actively planted with pines to give the Middle Eastern nature the traits of a familiar European aesthetic. Itzhaki’s suspended tree, with its trunk painted white, appears as an alien object deprived of soil, prompting reflection on the price of cultural assimilation and attempts to erase the region’s authentic history.
What Role Do Identity and Culture Play?
The exhibition curators deliberately avoid didacticism, preferring to ask visitors direct questions. Information stands encourage reflection: What images arise at the word “Arab”? What does an “Arab Jew” look like in your imagination? Is it possible to maintain a connection to roots if physical return to places of origin is impossible due to wars and closed borders? Through photographs, video works, and sculptures, the authors explore these “empty spaces” of memory.
Of particular note is the work of Dor Zlekha Levy, who captured the Beirut synagogue in Lebanon. The video is accompanied by an interview with an Israeli man who visited the building as a child and returned decades later as a soldier. The rocket that damaged the synagogue became a metaphor for a shattered childhood and the impossibility of returning to the past.
The exhibition “Yalla: Arab-Jewish Touchpoints” does not claim to be a history textbook. Its task is to show, through the emotional impact of art, that behind dry political slogans are living people with multifaceted and often tragic identities. Ultimately, the exposition becomes an important step toward realizing that shared roots and cultural intersections can be stronger than any walls built by ideologies.
Latest Posts
