Making the desert profit Haaretz February 21, 2008 By Tahel Frosh "If you are looking for prostitutes, drugs or weapons, this is an excellent place to be," says Eran Raz, referring to the dry Nahal Tzin river bed that runs within the municipal boundaries of Mitzpe Ramon in the Negev. Raz set up a vineyard on 40 dunams in the area - the first venture established in the framework of the Language of the Desert project, an agricultural and tourism initiative in Mitzpe Ramon. Meanwhile there are no smugglers in sight, but between the vines, one can glimpse Bedouin women on donkeys, trying to get a herd of goats together. Prime minister David Ben-Gurion would certainly have been pleased with Raz's attempt to get the desert to bloom. "The State of Israel cannot tolerate the reality of a desert in its midst," he said in 1955. "If the state does not destroy the desert, the desert is likely to destroy the state." But the desert has won the battle over Mitzpe Ramon, "the tourist capital of the Negev" as it is called in official government plans. In paradoxical fashion, its victory brought to the South a new, socioeconomically stable population, and the newcomers joined the sons of the immigrants who were once forced to live there. This is the population that those who dreamed up the plan to develop the Negev in 2005 had in mind. One of the objectives is to infuse new blood into the Negev and to bring to it tens of thousands of residents by the year 2015 by enticing them with real estate offers. The Language of the Desert project received NIS 35 million as part of a plan which includes 20,000 dunams that will be earmarked for 20 ranches as well as a neighborhood with 200 housing units. According to Shmuel Yaakov, who was the head of projects in the Negev Tourism Development Authority, "it all began 20 years ago with the idea of attracting a strong population to Mitzpe Ramon that would set up a second home there, a vacation home. Parallel to that, individuals began settling in the Negev and the Arava and combining tourism with agriculture. Seven years ago, 20 people were found and there was a waiting list for another 15 projects. We requested that all the crops grown, especially the grapes, be environmentally friendly." A second chapter in life Six entrepreneurs made it to the final stages of the plan. Raz, 39, married and the father of four, lives in Jerusalem and wants to grow grapes and build a boutique winery. Tzur Shezaf, 49, a journalist, writer and tourist guide, lives with his family in the Ajami quarter of Jaffa and plans to grow grapes, build bed-and-breakfasts and hold cultural events on his farm. Avi Deutsch, 43 and father of three, is the deputy director of marketing in a high-tech firm and lives in the Center; he wants to grow cherries for sale and personal consumption. Nir and Liat Ben-Gal, 46 and 48 respectively, are dancers who 10 years ago moved with their troupe from Tel Aviv to Mitzpe Ramon. They are now raising their children there and want to set up a convalescent home where people can also learn to dance. Oren Peled, a former air force man, is planning to provide alternative medical treatments on his farm; and Ben Dror, 33, whose wife was born in Mitzpe Ramon and who hails from Be'er Sheva, would like to set up a bed-and-breakfast and give lessons in ancient agriculture. There are another three ranches in the area, which were included in the plan post factum - the alpaca farm belonging to 48-year-old Ilan Dvir, who grew up in in Ramat Aviv and moved to the desert with his family some 10 years ago; Avi Dabush's Succah in the Desert farm, and the Bow and Arrow farm. "All of us, at least those who came from the center of the country, want to leave it because we love tranquility and freedom," says Raz. "My heart opens up every time I come to Mitzpe Ramon." Deutsch says he is interested in "a second chapter in life." He says: "We want to return to our roots and go somewhere that is unique. The desert supplies the solitude and quiet and cuts one off from the intensity of life in the city, the race for a career and status." To live in Mitzpe Ramon, says Ben-Gal, "is like living abroad. Most Israelis believe that the south of the country is less successful. But our feeling is that we are pioneering, setting up something from nothing. That was what I was looking for." Do they not think they will have problems living beside the Bedouin who also have claims to that land? "The day they don't want me to be there, we will not be there," says Raz. "It is a matter of interests. I have told them that from my point of view, it is they who will earn a living from the vineyard because they are part of this area. I feel they accept me, that I am coming to their home. They understand this is their source of income and they stand to gain from the very fact that this is an agricultural project. The Israeli laborer is not able to work all day, but they can. I worked for many years with Thai workers but I am making a calculation that goes beyond that - the Bedouin is my neighbor while the Thai is from the other end of the earth." Yaakov, on the other hand, "is afraid that a confrontation will occur." He says, "We move our heads aside as if there is no problem and as if the ticking Bedouin bomb is not going to explode. But their religious and national fervor is growing and the problem of the land for them has to be solved, also those who are not interested in settling in the small towns." Raz has noticed a common denominator among those who have set up the individual ranches. "Ilan Dvir, Avi Dabush from Sukkah in the Desert, and Ziv Spector from Shadow in the Desert [a ranch that was not included in the project - T.F.] all served in the army in the Matkal reconnaissance unit," he says. It is therefore not surprising that Dror compares the ability to get through the red tape necessary for setting up a farm, to a "conquest by the Matkal reconnaissance unit," as he puts it. "You need to have thick skin, the patience of a Bedouin and a great deal of self-assurance to survive this process," he says. But the fate of this "conquest," despite the good intentions of those participating in it, is still extremely unclear. The Israel Lands Authority has frozen the permits for leasing out ranches. Yaakov believes the petition to the High Court of Justice by the Adallah center against the establishment of individual ranches along the wine route - which dealt with lack of equality in the allocation of the lands - is holding back the authority. "The ranches that have been set up, have received a great deal of criticism from the social and environmental organizations," he says. "In the Israel Lands Authority, they are afraid of criticism about the Mitzpe Ramon project. This is also a legal matter." Because of that, a person connected with the project who is interested in its success, expressed fears about making it publicly known. He says "the Language of the Desert project is held together with very fine threads. Nothing is definite and any very strong wind could tear the whole story apart." Welcome, book store Itai Enar, 43, a tourist guide who came with his family to Mitzpe Ramon from Tel Aviv seven years ago, is part of a group of activists from the area that includes, he says, "some 30 university graduates including geologists, self-employed persons and environmentalists." The group supports setting up individual farms as part of the Language of the Desert project, but is opposed to setting up a tourism-oriented neighborhood, for social and ecological reasons (see box). Enar asks not to use the phrase "individual ranches" but rather to call them "tourism enterprises" - "because of the negative connotations in the eyes of the public." Despite his attempts, he inadvertently refers to them himself from time to time as individual ranches, when talking about the project. "We want to be the first example of ecological tourism, the kind one finds abroad," he says. "And those guys who have come here fit the vision like a glove. But Enar is worried that the program in the end could turn into "yet another tourist enterprise without any connection and affinity to the environment." Dr. Erez Tzfadia, of Sapir College and a member of the directorate of the Bimkom - planners for planning rights - nonprofit, has for several years been conducting a study on the influence of the settlement of individuals and tourism ventures in the Negev and the Arava on local communities and the environment. He says he supports the development of tourism in Mitzpe Ramon. "Any development that takes place in development towns is something to be welcomed in my eyes," he says. "But there is a difference between them and the individual ranches along the wine route and in the Arava which have been set up in the boundaries of regional councils." Nevertheless, he has reservations about the fact that the plan is aimed at "a strong population" and he is worried about the way in which the land is being distributed. "One must ask whether an opportunity was provided for the residents of Mitzpe Ramon - whether they are guiding the development in the neighborhood and ranches or whether they will be the workers there. They always say that 'those who come from outside will provide places of employment,' but preference must be given to existing residents who are already there, to help them to put the plan into operation; they would benefit more." Tzfadia adds that putting out a tender will not contribute to equality. "As soon as I define conditions of economic ability, I direct the project toward a population that will come from the outside," he says. "We must develop tourism and branches of the economy inside the small towns and in the Bedouin communities, instead of giving rights to the land to strong populations." Enar agrees with the criticism and says the choice of entrepreneurs involved in the project is puzzling. "The plan was the brainchild of people from Mitzpe Ramon," he says. "It was intended to assist local entrepreneurs. In effect, they have turned the plan upside down, taken away its main objective and put it to sleep." Despite all of this, Enar is in favor of allowing "strong citizens who have money" to come to Mitzpe Ramon since this might improve conditions in the developing town. He says it will be easy to know when the condition of Mitzpe Ramon has improved: "We will remain a development town until there is a book store in Mitzpe Ramon," he says. "The day there is a book store, we will become a desert town."