Founded in 1978 as a tool for legendary Jerusalem mayor Teddy Kollek, the Jerusalem Institute for Israel Studies, which recently changed its name to the Jerusalem Institute for Policy Research, remains an important instrument for understanding this city. Although no longer considered as close as it once was to the policy-makers at Safra Square, it is the only institution where academics, politicians and journalists – as well as any layperson – can get reliable and comprehensive information about any aspect of the city and its residents, as well as scholarly research and general studies on Israeli society. Ora Ahimeir founded the institute and served as its and chief executive until seven years ago, expanding it from a small academic institution to a highly regarded institution enjoying full academic independence. Dr. Meir Kraus, formerly the director of the education administration at the municipality (Manhi), succeeded Ahimeir. Resigning from the post this month, Kraus accepted an invitation from In Jerusalem to review his seven intensive years heading the institute and share his views on the challenges facing the capital now, and in the coming years. The haredi sector and the tremendous changes it is undergoing, the new immigrants from the former Soviet Union and elsewhere, the Arab sector, poverty and the attempts to address it, manifold social changes and more – all these are fields that the institute investigates, monitors and periodically reports on. In the 1990s, the annual publication of statistics on the city on the eve of Jerusalem Day often resulted in a battlefield between the institute and mayor Ehud Olmert, who took the facts on the ground as they appeared in the annual report as personal criticism of his policies. The findings were often gloomy: the leading city in poverty, the highest percentage of the young generation migrating out of it, low matriculation exam results. Many other topics were covered by the institute over the years, such as the precarious situation of Christian communities in Jerusalem, caught between the Palestinian Muslim narrative and hostility that sometimes scaled up to blatant violence. Three fields of research often took prominence in the institute's work: Arab neighborhoods, haredi society and the high percentage of poverty among Jerusalem residents – including children from all sectors. Kraus, who came to the institute from Safra Square, was as aware as anyone of the municipality's limited capacity to solve some of the most acute problems, such as the lack of affordable housing, the lack of job opportunities and the urgent need to provide facilities to young haredim wishing to join the employment market. One of the fields that attracted much attention during these seven years was the tremendous gap between the needs of the Arab sector and the limited budgets and power of the municipality. He feels strongly that the national government should take a leading role in addressing the situation in east Jerusalem. “The municipality cannot take on this task alone; it is too wide, too overwhelming. It is the responsibility of the government,” he stresses. In addition to economics, a major issue at the heart of the problem is what he calls “the tough and never- ending competition between the different communities over the character of Jerusalem. The Muslims want it to be more Muslim, the Christians wish to consolidate their position here, and even between the Jewish communities, there are different and even opposed positions: secular, political and religious. All of these sides try to make this city more what it should be in their eyes, and this competition is taking place both on the physical and the symbolic levels.” While struggles for predominance over parts of the city are relatively easy to track, Kraus points out the more subtle but no less strident struggle over the symbolic space. “Take, for example, the names of locations, where to put a signboard and what to write on it. A good case-inpoint is the neighborhood called Sheikh Jarrah, where in recent years, its old name, Shimon Hatzadik, came back into use. If you take the light rail in that direction, the name of the stop is in Hebrew: Shimon Hatzadik. You might expect the name in Arabic to remain Sheikh Jarrah, but no, in Arabic it is also Shimon Hatzadik. This is what I call controlling the symbolic space, and there are of course many more examples. “Since there is continuous competition, if not an outright war between the sides, we should examine the tools used by the sides in conducting this war. The side that owns the regulatory power will use it, of course – and hence decide where to build and when, and what will be constructed. “On the side lacking that power, we will see illegal construction, but the bottom line will always bend to one goal: each side will work to consolidate its presence in the city in order to ensure its fingerprints on its character. “That is one aspect of the facts on the ground, since each side is constantly busy attempting to reduce the presence and the impact of the presence of the other side as much as possible,” he continues. “This is a daily struggle that we sometimes see openly but largely occurs unseen.”
(photo credit: JERUSALEM INSTITUTE FOR POLICY RESEARCH)