At Modi’in Mall

At Modi’in Mall

There’s nothing else around here except empty desolate pretty hills. The Israel Trail passes by a bit to the west. The shops are mostly franchises, almost all homegrown: Super-Pharm, Aroma, Tzomet Sfarim, Cup O’ Joe’s, LaMetayel, Mega, Fox, Castro, H&O.

C

oming here to this new shopping mall outside Modi’in with Irit and her cousin Tali to buy a dress for Tali’s daughter Tamar didn’t seem like the most thrilling thing to do today, but it was a gorgeous drive down from their moshav, Mesilat Tzion (just off Highway 1 between Tel Aviv and Jerusalem), through empty countryside and a turn east into the gentle rocky Shomron foothills. This mall can be no more than a year old. Modi’in’s new train station is visible down the highway. The city itself barely existed ten years ago. Modi’in means “intelligence”, by the way.

At Modi’in Mall

This mall is on a scale describable only as American, the target visitors being I think upper-lower to upper-middle classers ⁠— that is, almost everyone. Malls are no longer being built indoors it seems but as series of anonymous low-slung buildings fronted by parking lots. There’s absolutely nothing else around here except empty desolate pretty hills ⁠— Modi’in itself can’t be seen. The Israel Trail passes by a bit to the west. It’s a hot July Wednesday morning. Things are reasonably busy. The shops are mostly franchises, almost all homegrown ⁠— imports are limited to a large Ace hardware store, a smaller Office Depot and a Burger King. The local ones include Super-Pharm, Aroma, Tzomet Sfarim, Cup O’ Joe’s, LaMetayel, Mega, Fox, Castro, H&O. A general thought: somehow, through all the bluster and unpleasantness, Israeli culture fully enables the cooperation to implement enterprise and ambition. A personal thought: it’s nice for me to just write down the names of these brands; I feel at home here.

Next to me at the bar a worker takes a break, eagerly pouring salt and pepper on his eggplant sandwich. Everything on the menu at Aroma is vegetarian; no fuss is made about that fact, that’s just how it is (the only exception is the tuna salad). [Edit: the Aroma branch at the Tel Aviv mall is now introducing salami sandwiches. And my beloved Aroma now has much competition, such as from CafeCafe.]

But halas with this tired perspective of the Anglo or American amazed and impressed that Israel isn’t camels and tents, that the coffee machines are Italian, that the screen in the corner of the cafe is showing CNN as if every spot has the potential frisson of an airport departure lounge. I have to admit to being impressed ⁠— this morning anyway ⁠— by the sum total of life here. After walking through Sussex to London, I can see now that the happy flip-side of Israel’s method of crowding people into apartments brings the countryside closer so that it’s quick and easy to get out to complete isolation here.

I got out quickly and easily into such glorious isolation yesterday, walking the trail around Mount Carmiela just near Mesilat Tzion. But the glory was marred by the passing of a mountain-biker. Unsmiling, not acknowledging my nod of greeting that civilized people bestow upon each other when passing in an isolated place, he was decked out in full mountain-bike regalia, like he was participating in a race. Here there is none of that ambling amateurism that seems to me integral to civility. The hiking map we bought was covered with ads directed at mountain-bikers such as he. It’s curmudgeonly to critique biking habits ⁠— any biking is good biking ⁠— but it wasn’t so long ago here that anyone on a bike beyond the age of puberty was considered either unacceptably eccentric or suffering from poverty so extreme as to signify idiocy, for if you’re that poor you should be able to wangle enough from the government to get a car or a bus pass. Today biking is socially acceptable if you have all the expensive gear, but I suspect that it’s still déclassé if you’re doing it dressed like a regular human being.

So what? Fine. There are morays. Every society has ’em. In this modern age of seeming societal dissolution, it’s impressive to even have morays to which everyone subscribes. And I also get the hierophantic feeling that despite the cultural straightjacket Israeli society imposes on its young, these are values and norms that are appropriate and good for people anyway. Live in a small polity. Travel a lot. Bring back goodies from abroad like honeybees. Be too close for comfort to your relatives. Live in apartments in crowded towns so you can keep your countryside public, open and pristine. Value entrepeneurship and science over pedigree and the arts. Keep building. Have inept but nonetheless unabating enemies. Be undiscovered and unblighted by the corrupting blessings of a foreign tourism industry. And talk a lot of baloney.

The Trail

Wednesday, June 17th, 2026

Amit Segal, longer than usual for his It’s Noon in Israel newsletter, posits the perennial faultline in Israel politics: Jewish vs Israeli.

“Jewish” and “Israeli” are simply the two tenets of Israel’s self-definition as a Jewish and democratic state ⁠— not in open contradiction, since most Israelis hold both, but forever rubbing against each other. Like asking whether strawberry-banana yogurt is more strawberry or banana, Israelis are endlessly asked, in one disguise or another, whether they are slightly more Jewish than democratic or the reverse. Once you see it, most of the news in the country ⁠— most push notifications, most studio shouting matches ⁠— dissolves into that same question, with a thin veneer of fresh event on top.

Segal himself straddles the divide nicely, as does the society writ large, part and parcel of the fading Ashkenazi/Sephardi divide. In my thin slice of observation, secular Israelis who delight in eating swine abroad now light candles and recite more complete prayers at home for Friday night dinner than they used to ⁠— indeed holding Friday night dinner itself is the gateway. And there are so many gateways.

I do however take issue with Amit’s characterization of the Israeli/left side:

Of course we are Jewish, the left answers ⁠— the flag is essentially a prayer shawl, the emblem is the Temple menorah, every kindergartner comes home Friday with a challah ⁠— but that is the décor, not the purpose; the purpose is to be the only democracy in the Middle East.

Instead, it seems to me that people on this side, those of the “villa in the jungle” view, would rather just forget about the jungle; being “the only X in the Middle East” is merely apologetics, not identity. Rather, it’s about being a liberal democracy simply because that is the enlightened, obvious, natural thing to be; anyone with a Yiddisher kopf can see that. And as for the Right downgrading democracy to merely being the operating system, well, that’s what Judaism itself arguably is too, so being the OS is no small thing.

I don’t go to synagogue but the synagogue that I don’t go to is Orthodox.

David Ben-Gurion

Friday, June 12th, 2026

Francesco Parrino is getting the Benny and Björn spirit of things here with his piano cover of Super Trouper, probably my favorite ABBA song ⁠— though like with other covers of his I’ve listened to, I enjoy the first half of the track more than the second.