In an emergency ruling about a decade ago, the kibbutz I
just left decided to hire foreign workers to be able to meet fruit’s natural
(and therefore non-negotiable) harvesting deadlines. In bringing “Thailandim”
to the desert oasis, the kibbutz joined a national trend: tens of thousands of
Thais work in Israel, according to the BBC.
I spoke to the kibbutz member in charge of workers in the
kibbutz’s date fields and learned a lot about the business of bringing in
foreign laborers. At first glance, the phenomenon seems anathema to many
ideological strains present in Israeli society: socialism, self-reliance,
Zionism/nationalism. According to this member, however, it was unavoidable: the
kibbutz’s expanding business and aging membership/workforce simply demanded a
more reliable source of labor than volunteers or even willing Israeli workers
could provide. (One year, the kibbutz hired a cadre of Israelis right out of
the military, but the logistical problems other than age mirrored those of
kibbutz members: family constraints, occasional medical leave, reserve duty in
the IDF.) So kibbutzim hire young Thai men, usually married, who come to Israel
on five-year contracts to earn hugely more than they could at home. (Estimates
range from double to 20 times). The
work force of this particular kibbutz also includes six Eritrean refugees,
recruited from the side of the road in Eilat or by word of mouth. These hired
workers labor long hours in searing heat often well over 100° Fahrenheit during
the summer growing season for juicy Mejdool dates.
The Thai workers live on the kibbutz but don’t participate
in the community at all. (The Eritreans live in Eilat and the kibbutz pays for
their daily commute.) Living on a kibbutz is such a communal experience, for
the members, for volunteers, even for interns at the academic institute on
kibbutz property, like me. When the kibbutz voted to hire foreign workers, it
actually decided to incorporate them into the community. But the Thailandim
come here to earn money for their family back home, not to make new lives.
Although they live in a housing block near the volunteers’ quarters, the first
group declined the option to eat meals in the kibbutz dining hall – although
some Thailandim at a nearby kibbutz do. Instead, they continue to eat
traditional foods, which they prepare with ingredients bought in part from a
traveling vendor serving the 4,000 to 5,000 Thailandim in the northern Arava.
In Thailand, I’m told, it is an honor to be picked to leave
the country – even though it usually means going into debt at first thanks to
high, sometimes predatory middleman fees. But that system is changing: since
the Israeli and Thai governments signed an agreement in May 2012, Thais can be
employed directly by Israeli employers and don’t have to go through the private
“manpower agencies” that can take
advantage of them by charging exorbitant fees for finding work. I spoke
with Sharon, from a different kibbutz, about this new ruling and he expressed
skepticism that the system change will improve the prospects of Thailandim or
those who hire them. He said (though I wasn’t able to verify) that there will
still be middlemen, several large, ostensibly not-for-profit organizations in
place of the 50+ private companies now in business. Whether there will be any
middlemen or not, the system now will be randomized and anonymized, so current
workers cannot arrange for a friend or relative to follow in their footsteps
and employers cannot communicate with future employees. Both members I spoke
with emphasized that when the regulation goes into effect, small kibbutz
industries will suffer from not being able to easily and reliably find workers
with specific skill sets, as they do now through personal reference by current
workers and logistics facilitated by the middleman. Sharon said that he uses
the system to check up on workers before they come and make sure they are not
being taken advantage of to get here.
I’m sure that not all employers put in the effort to take
care of their future employees or find appropriate niche workers for certain
tasks, and I write only from the perspective to which I was directly exposed.
But I hope that the advantage of the new system – fairness for workers – will
counterbalance the difficulties it will pose for smaller employers and the
increased anonymity faced by workers. It’s interesting to observe the situation
of foreign workers in a country that prides itself on self-reliance, has mixed
feelings about the African refugees who have made it there, and has poor
relations full of fear and hostility with most of its immediate neighbors. From
what I can see, the physical laborers are welcomed as part of the Israeli
economy but not integrated into Israeli society. Other foreign workers – such
as the many Filipina caregivers – and other outsiders have different stories,
for another post.
