Eighteen, by Natan Dvir, is an artistic point of contact serving as an invitation to get closer. A project aimed at e conciliation through understanding and respect. An inside view by one who is typically regarded as an outsider.

Mohammad (Nazareth, Muslim)

I never got to finish high school. I was in a car accident about a year ago and injured my head and my arms. When I tried returning to school, everybody mocked me and called me names. I became depressed and could not complete my final exams. Half a year ago, I went to buy new shoes and was caught up in a demonstration against Israelʼs war in Gaza. Policemen arrested me claiming I threw stones at them. How could I have thrown stones at them? My arms are too weak because of the injury. I was put in jail where the guards harassed me every day. They would wake us up each morning by kicking us. The Jews were allowed to pray however they wanted to, yet the Muslims’ practices were constantly disrespected.

After a month in jail, I was released and was put under house detention. They have no evidence against me, but the trial goes on and on. I wear an electronic leg bracelet and am allowed to leave the house only on Mondays and Thursdays, when I can go to my brotherʼs shop in the city. I usually use this time to hang out with my friends in the neighborhood.

Angham (Kfar Qasem, Muslim)

My father is a high school principle and my mother is an Arab language teacher. Education was always very important in our house. I love to study and hope to do well in the upcoming Israeli SAT exam so I can study in the university. Many Arabs see the exam as discriminatory and choose to study in Jordan instead. I hope to be accepted to physiotherapy studies and make enough money to be able to donate to charity for the construction of a school or a mosque.

I donʼt like to watch modern music channels and enjoy only religious programs with preachers explaining the knowledge embodied in the Koran combining faith and studies. The Islam is attacked these days all over the world. The attacks come even from Muslims that try to imitate western lifestyle. Muslim women find it especially hard given the common negative reactions to the hijab (traditional head scarf). Our religion is beautiful and encourages studies, having an order in life, and earning a place in heaven.

Iʼve recently gotten engaged and hope to get married in the upcoming summer. This is my first relationship with a man of course, as it is improper for a Muslim woman to meet with a man before they are engaged. Iʼm very excited and confused by my emotions as I am finally allowed to fall in love.

Anat (Sheikh Danun, Muslim)

I was named after a Jewish municipal worker from Nahariya that my father used to work for as a county-employed gardener. During high school I joined the “Bereshit LaShalom” (Genesis for Peace), a multicultural theater company, and traveled with them to Europe to participate in performances promoting peace. This experience was very meaningful for me and I wanted to do more things with Jews and try to understand them further.

After graduating from high school, I chose to volunteer for national service for a period of one year. I joined a collective of 18-year-old Arabs and Jews in northern Israel which supported the local education system in villagesʼ schools. This was an extremely rewarding experience. I feel I learned something greater than life. It helps me understand my life and the place Iʼm living in.

Mohammad (Muʼawiya, Muslim)

My father and uncles work in construction and my mother is a housewife. I am an only child. My parents are extremely generous and give me everything I need, though sometimes I feel they are overprotective. They made it possible for me to travel to various Arab countries including an unforgettable visit to Mecca six years ago, which was very important for me as a Muslim.

I used to work in a boutique in Umm Al-Fahm and am now working at McDonalds. There arenʼt many options to go out to around here — only restaurants and hookah places. I prefer to go out with my friends to dance clubs in Jewish cities which are much more exciting.

I have lived by myself since I was 14 in this apartment above my parentsʼ house. This house looks nicer and can help me find a better wife. My parents donʼt know, but I have a secret girlfriend. We talk over the phone every day. We have to be very discrete since her parents forbid us to be in touch before getting engaged. We must respect their will, but cannot deny our feelings. Yesterday she had to get off the phone very suddenly. I havenʼt heard from her today and am worried somebody might have found out about us.

Baraa (Arrabe, Muslim)

My brother Aseel Aslih is a Shahid (martyrdom in Islam) murdered at the age of 17 by Israeli policemen during the October 2000 events. This “democratic” country stopped the demonstrations of the Arab population supporting the 2nd intifada by killing 13 men and children. I was 8 years old when my brother went to take part in a demonstration next to our village wearing his green “Seeds for Peace” shirt. My parents went to bring him back home and saw him being shot at close range as was proved later by the autopsy. All our appeals to the Supreme Court resulted in no justice being reached and the murderers were set free.

I was brought up to believe in the love of god, the land, and men as human beings. This event changed the lives of my family and myself. I see myself as an Arab-Palestinian and not as a Jew or as an Israeli. I hate this country that doesnʼt respect me, and donʼt believe in reaching peace with it while my civil and human rights are violated. The Arab sector is highly discriminated. Almost no funds are diverted to culture and education,
resulting in lack of infrastructure and community centers, which leads to youngsters turning to bad ways. If Israel wants to be truly democratic it needs to change its definition from a Jewish country to a county of all its citizens.

Rodaina (Daliat Al-Carmel, Druze)

I am in love with the man of my life. I wish to be with him even though it is very difficult. My family disapproved of this relationship and wants me to break up with him since he is not educated or wealthy enough.

A year ago we had a huge fight and broke up, after which an older man came into my life. He asked for my hand in marriage and I accepted after receiving my familyʼs blessing, yet I could not go through with the wedding. Once my true love wanted me back, I called off the marriage and went back into his arms. He is the only man I will ever love. Going against the will of my family is extremely problematic since I am Druze. We will never be able to get married without my familyʼs approval. I hope that as time goes by they will accept him, see how much I love him, and allow us to spend our lives together. For now we must be strong yet careful, and not do anything that might be regarded as jeopardizing the familyʼs honor putting our lives in danger.

Aseel (Umm Al Fahm, Muslim)

I love living in Umm Al-Fahm. This is a Muslim city considered noble for its hospitality and respect for others, yet sometimes we must defend ourselves against our enemies. A few months ago, we had to prevent Baruch Marzel, an ultra-right wing Jewish nationalist, from entering the city to stir up trouble. Ten years ago, three young men were killed here during the October 2000 clashes. I was very young at the time yet remember how horrible it was then. In the past I used to go with my father to Jewish cities, but after what happened, we hardly have time anymore.

I prefer being in a family with sisters, since a brother might have imposed increased restrictions. My mother taught me well how to follow Islam, how to dress properly, and how to be respectful of others. I am not allowed to have a relationship with a man before we are engaged. I loved somebody once but never told him. It is better to avoid all the mess of falling in love before getting married.

My dream is to become an English teacher and help the people of my city. I currently work at a local grocery shop, study sociology in a college near Tel Aviv, and improve my English by reading books. I am very optimistic and believe good things happen to those that stay positive.

Ehab (Biane, Muslim)

I have been playing soccer for as long as I can remember. This is the most important thing in my life. I used to play for HaPoel Haifa in the 2nd Israeli league. A few months ago, I was transferred to HaPoel Biane, my villageʼs team. We are in the 4th league, so the level of the game isnʼt as high as I am used to. With hardly any available funds we are forced to make the best of our very basic facilities.

Although this soccer club represents an Arab village, quite a few players on the team are Jewish. I am happy the Jews have to serve in the military, which creates openings on the team. All I can do is continue to play my best and hope I will be able to return to HaPoel Haifa, now playing in the Israeli major league.

Amal (Nazareth, Christian)

Dance is my greatest passion. I practiced it for 13 years since I was 5 years old. I not only dance but also teach kids in Nazareth and other towns and villages in Northern Israel. I am at the top of my class and am convinced Iʼll do well when I decide to start my bachelor degree studies. I want to be successful and make a lot of money so I can be part of the higher class and be respected.

The society in Nazareth is relatively traditional, yet I prefer friends that are relatively liberal. We hang out in Jewish cities in order to avoid criticism. I can go to restaurants in Nazareth, but there are no bars or clubs around here. The issue of personal definition comes up very often as part of our discussions. I see myself as an Arab-Israeli of Palestinian origin. I have an issue with Israel being defined as a Jewish country, yet also donʼt see myself as a Palestinian since I do not live in the West Bank of Gaza.

Nimer (Arrabe, Muslim)

I hardly speak Hebrew since I used to run away from school all the time. Two years ago I quit school altogether. Since then I try to find occasional jobs and spend most of my time in bed or hanging out with my friends. Everybody around me speaks Arabic so I donʼt need to know Hebrew.

Iʼm not really motivated to work and have no idea what I will to do in the future. I thought about joining the military. I like the idea of being able to shoot guns. My friends wonʼt let me though, since they regard serving in the Israeli military as treason.

Sammed (Jerusalem, Muslim)

I am a resident of East Jerusalem, meaning I was never acknowledged as an Israeli citizen with full rights. We cannot vote for the parliament and donʼt really belong anywhere. We just live our lives and wait to see what happens. All my family lives in this area adjacent to the Jewish neighborhood of Givat Zeev. We have a good life and try to interact as little as possible with the Jewish neighbors not wanting any trouble.

Our neighborhood is infested with drugs. This is the biggest problem here and the authorities arenʼt doing anything to fix it. I actually think the police are the ones bringing in the drugs in order to prevent us from developing the area and making sure they have a stronger control. I stay away from all these troubles with the help of my brothers and work as a hairdresser in our family barbershop. Hopefully Iʼll save enough money to
build my won family.

Dina (Jaffa, Jewish-Muslim)

I was born to a Jewish Ukranian mother and a Muslim Israeli father in Ukraine. My father is a doctor and my mother is a fashion designer. I moved to Israel with my family at the age of five. My family lives in Taibe, a Muslim city in the triangle area that is heavily populated by Arabs. I didnʼt really like living there and as a woman I felt oppressed in that culture. My mother could not work in her profession and works in a pharmacy. Boys and girls remain separated, though the situation has gotten better in recent years. There are hardly any places to go out to. I was able to hang out with my friends only at our homes or in Jewish cities.

I joined the Communist Youth Movement, but everybody was always trying to prevent me from organizing activities. My parents encouraged me to leave Taibe and find a place where I would feel more comfortable socially and professionally. I am now living in Jaffa in a collective of Arab and Jewish human rights activists and volunteer in various organizations.

I donʼt really care if I live with Arabs or Jews. I guess I kind of did that all my life anyhow. I appreciate people for who they are and have little regard for that kind of categorization. I am both Jewish and Muslim; Both Ukrainian and Israeli. I can be defined any way that makes you feel comfortable, but if you ask me, I would prefer not to be called any of the above — I am a human rights activist.

Hanan (Abu Grinath, Bedouin)

I pray to God I will reach heaven in the after life. I am very happy as a devoted Muslim, and enjoy a traditional lifestyle. Still, I feel the womenʼs role in the Bedouin society is evolving and hope it changes significantly. Until recently we were expected to marry at the age of 18 or even earlier. During the last few years it has become more acceptable for women to get higher education and study at collages or at the university. We are still obligated to return home every night, and can study only at nearby institutions.

I wish to study Communication & Journalism and make a documentary film about my village, which is not recognized by the Israeli authorities. This is my biggest dream. I love watching documentary films on TV and learning about the world. Unfortunately, neither my familyʼs financial situation nor my level of education would allow for it at this point. I recently applied to an organization offering scholarships for studies of social work or education. Hopefully it will allow me secure a profession in either of these fields, which would enable me to help the community in my village.

Jehad (Arrabe, Muslim)

I left school a couple of years ago because I wanted to work and make my own living. I work in construction and try to support my family. My dad works in transportation and my mother has a job at the local grocery store. My father is angry with me sometimes if I donʼt work for a few days.

have a few tattoos: my name in English, a crossed-out heart with the name of the girl I love, three dots meaning I am not afraid of the police, and a scorpion because it kills in one stroke. I like to hang out with my guys after work. We either stay around here or go out to the Jewish cities Nahariya and Acre. Sometimes we get into clashes with the other gang in the village. One of my best friends lost his leg a few months ago in a big fight. The police always take a few hours before getting here. They still havenʼt done anything, even though we knew and could identify the person who shot him.

All I dream of is having enough money and marrying the girl I love. Her family wonʼt allow me to see her until I get my act together and stay out of trouble. I do try but somehow it just doesnʼt work out. Every nice day is followed by ten days of chaos.

Mohammad (Biane, Muslim)

Iʼve been boxing ever since I was young and have been the Israeli Middleweight division champion (up to 75 Kg \ 165 lb) for the last couple of years. Iʼm training every day either at a boxing gym in the nearby city of Acre together with Jewish and Arab boxers or here in the lower floor of my house. I canʼt make a living as a boxer and have to work with my older brother as a repairman.

I donʼt like to talk about politics since I believe it never leads to anything productive. The situation would have been much better in Israel if Arabs and Jews were treated equally. Hopefully I will have a chance to move to the US or Sweden where I can train at better facilities and experience less discrimination as an Arab.

Reeham (Rahat, Bedouin)

The origin of my family of 11 brothers and sisters comes from the Bedouin tribes of Sudan. We live in neighborhoods 7, 11 & 20 in Rahat, the only Bedouin city in Israel. People live in modern buildings and houses, yet many families try to preserve elements of our nomad culture. There are no movie theatres or nightclubs. Men hang out in hookah bars or playing snooker, while women spend their time at home or visiting friends.

When I went to school I used to wear a veil since I wanted to be like all the other girls. I prefer to go around wearing a hat and trousers and donʼt see it as a bad thing as most Bedouins. People saw me as a bad person and were surprised to hear about my future plans. Young people in our society struggle between adopting modern lifestyle and preserving our heritage and culture.

My dream is to become a doctor, yet I have to work in order to save money for my studies. I would like to study in Russia, though my brothers recommend I go to England or Jordan. I want to live in a non-Arab country and experience a different culture. It is extremely rare that a Bedouin woman would be allowed to study away from home not escorted by a male family member, so I am very grateful for my familyʼs support.

Mohammad (Haifa, Muslim)

My parents were married for 18 years and got divorced since my father was a drug addict and kept going in and out of jail. They both remarried and moved to Haifa. I have 9 siblings, 5 of which are my stepbrothers and stepsisters. I live with my mother and 5 siblings. My stepfather is unemployed and I can hardly find a job. We are in a very bad economical situation and survive on welfare.

I met my biological father for the first time when I was 5 years old after he was released from prison. I donʼt feel much of a connection to him. My brothers stay in touch with his part of the family, but I am uncomfortable doing so.

I have a girlfriend who he met through the messenger 3 years ago. I have yet to meet her in person or even talk to her over the phone since it is forbidden according to the Islam. I know her and her family only through the pictures she sends me. We are strongly in love. I intend to visit her parents this Friday together with members of my motherʼs side of the family and ask for her hand in marriage. I am afraid things might go wrong once they find out my motherʼs husband is not my real father.

Sliman (Shkip, Bedouin)

I have 6 brothers and 3 sisters. A couple of my brothers work in gardening. Iʼve been searching for a job for a long time now yet nothing is available. Our family is surviving on social security stipend.

We are living in one of 47 Bedouin villages not recognized by the state of Israel. The authorities do not provide us with water or electricity nor allow us to build permanent houses. My home was destroyed a week after we received the court order. Many policemen arrived at the village, evicted us out of the house and destroyed it together with 6 other buildings. This rubble is what was left of it.

My father served 23 years in the Israeli army. Two of my older brothers were about to join the army, yet refused to do so after our house was demolished. I do not want to serve a country that doesnʼt respect the Bedouins and denies us of our rights. All I dream about is having a big house with running water and electricity as others do.

A look at their daily lives.

Jehad Nassar holding a chick in the backyard of his cousin’s house in Arrabe. Many households in Arab villages own chickens and\or horses, though young people often chose to pursue non-agricultural professions.

Iman Iben-Atami (17) serving her father in the guest-room of their home in the unrecognized Bedouin village Hashem Zana. The Bedouin society is very traditional. Women are expected to follow a very strict lifestyle and be obedient to the will of their father or husband.

Angham Amin Essa (18, L) puts on makeup next to her sister Johaina (10, R) who is not yet obligated to wear a hijab (traditional Muslim head cover). Over a third of the Arab population in Israel practices a traditional Muslim lifestyle. Many young women experience discriminatory attitude from the Jewish society when wearing the hijab in public as they are required according to their religion.

Mohammad Nadaf (18, C) and his family in their living room above the market in Haifa. Mohammadʼs parents divorced a few years ago. His mother remarried a Palestinian resident of East Jerusalem. His father is a drug addict and goes in and out of jail. Mohammad quit school two years ago and tries to work to support his family, which survives on welfare.

Mousa Hatem Al Rifi (C) shakes the hand of a friend while playing cards with his brother and other friends. Mousaʼs father was one of the leaders of the local mafia and was murdered four years ago by his bodyguards. Mousa quit school a couple of years ago and works with his two brothers as an electrician. His dream is to leave the city of Lod which is infested with violence and drug traffic, yet he is unable to do so until his family resolves the blood-vengeance inflicted on them by his fatherʼs death.

Jehad Nasser (18, 2L) argues with his boss on the construction site where they build scaffolding. A large part of the Arabs minority works in jobs considered less desirable by the Jewish population with construction being one of the most popular.

Jehad Nassar (18) grabbing his cousin Nimer (18) by the throat at Nimerʼs house in Arrabe. Both hang out mostly with other members of their family whose couple of thousand members lives in the same town.

Sammed Awad (18) playing with a prayer necklace as his sister peals an orange in their living room in East Jerusalem. The residents of East Jerusalem are not acknowledged as full citizens and cannot vote for the Israeli parliament.

The sister of Reeham Kamalat washes the dishes at their home in Rahat. The Bedouin society is undergoing a structural and cultural change as most of the population has moved into urban settlements leaving behind their nomad traditions.

The men of Awad family share the traditional Maklube during Friday family dinner in Jerusalem. A large part of the Arab society in Israel follows traditional lifestyle defining gender rolls and separating between the men and the women. The men dine together and the women follow after they have finished.

Jehad Nassar (18,C) standing next to some of his gang members in the streets of Arrabe. Jehad is a local gang leader and has seen one of his friends loose his leg in a recent fight against another gang. Crime and gang disputes are very common as the police hardly enter Arab settlements.

Hundreds of men celebrating around three grooms dancing at the end of their wedding in the streets of Rahat. The last part of a Bedouin wedding is a large party celebrated out in the streets.

A young Arab man watches two of his friends playing pool in the local café in Jaljulia. Only 3% of the youth in Jaljulia complete their high school studies successfully and get their diploma. Most end up earning low wages working in construction for companies owned by Jews. The central city offers few recreation venues and most young men hang out in the streets or in the only café in town.

Ahmad (15), the borther of Mohammad Nadaf (18), lying on a couch in his living room in Haifa. The Israeli authorities fail to invest funds in building youth centers in concentrations of Arab population. Youngsters usually hang out with their friend out on the streets or “kill time” at home.

Aseel Mahajneh (18) praying at her home in Umm Al-Fahm. Muslim women pray 5 times a day as the men, yet do so at home and not at the mosque.

Angham Amin Issa (18, T) helps her sister Johaina (10, B) with her homework. Most Arab families have many children, forcing the older to help their younger siblings.

Raya Manaaʼs (18) mobile phone background displaying a portrait of Layla Khaled, a Palestinian terrorist from the 1970s. Layla Khaled has become a symbol of the Palestinian fight against the state of Israel and her image is an icon for many young people.

Yara Dallasheh (18), a computer science student at the Technion in Haifa, prepares to leave her room at the dorms and go to the computer lab. Yaraʼs family members are highly educated and expect her to excel in her studies. Yaraʼs dream is to work for Google. Relatively few Arab students are accepted to universities and collages in Israel. Many chose to study in Jordan or Europe even though it is considerably more expensive and requires detachment from their family.

Photographer’s words:

Although I grew up and spent most of my photographic career in Israel, I came to realize I did not truly know or understand its Arab society – over a fifth of the population consisting of hundreds of thousands of families who stayed within Israelʼs borders after it was established in 1948. This large minority, which is currently experiencing a challenging identity crisis, has been somewhat forgotten amidst the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. In a highly political environment I became interested in the stories of these people living as a minority in a country defined by its majorityʼs religion.

I wish to confront and dispute the widespread misconceptions and stereotypes of the people within my own country who I was brought up to consider more as foes rather than as allies. I decided to focus on Arab men and women at the age of eighteen, a crucial turning point in their lives, when they complete school, become legal adults, and earn the right to vote. Yet unlike their Jewish counterparts, most do not join the military.

By photographing and portraying my so-called “enemy”, I hope to highlight the impact that cultural and internal conflict have had on these young men and women both individually and collectively. By photographing my subjects within their normal surroundings I hope to present a sense of place, and to reveal the social context of their lives. The essence of the intimate environmental portraits does not lie in their aesthetics, but rather in their complex dynamics – unwelcoming expressions and body language testifying to the tense nature of our engagement. The combination of portraits, personal testimonies and daily life images reveals the transformation in my interaction with my subjects while shedding light on their lives.

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