Israeli Television and the National Agenda
by Yuval Elizer
The year 1994 marked a
revolution in Israel television viewing. After more than a quarter of
a century in which Israelis had to make do with a single channel
broadcasting seven hours a day, they are now offered a rich choice of
40 channels in more than dozen languages. The state-owned Channel One
must now share its influence with two high-powered competitors: the
commercial Channel Two and cable-TV which, during 1994, penetrated a
considerable portion of the national market.
Following seemingly endless
deferrals, undoubtedly due in part to delaying tactics engineered by
the chiefs of state television, Channel Two, a commercial station,
finally began broadcasting in November 1993. The catalytic effect of
the new competition was not unrelated to the fact that 1994 was also
the year when the cable television companies finished installing the
infrastructure enabling about 90 percent of the country's households
to receive their broadcasts, if they so wish. (All that remain are
some sparsely-populated areas for which special technical solutions
need to be found.)
By mid-1994, some 720,000
Israeli households were able to receive cable television. The average
penetration rate of the cable companies is 60 percent; in some areas,
such as north Tel
Aviv, Holon, Bat Yam, and Givatayim, it exceeds 70 percent. The
profound impact of these developments on leisure culture and, some
would say, on national solidarity and "participatory
democracy" in Israel, is already discernible.
The Israeli public's passion
for television has been confirmed statistically. A study of leisure
culture in Israel conducted in the early l99Os showed that Israelis
spend about half of their free time in front of the box. This is
more, albeit not much more, than the average rate in western
countries. An earlier survey, conducted in November 1987, in the
midst of a lengthy strike by workers of the Israel Broadcasting
Authority, (IBA), found that on an average weekday, 87 percent of the
public watched television. Approximately 75 percent watched the major
evening newscast "Mabat" ("Outlook") every day.
By comparison, 80 percent of the public listened to the radio on any
given day - despite the low cost of radios and the possibility of
listening in while doing something else, such as driving or at work.
The 1987 study, conducted by
the Gutmann Institute for Applied Social Research, also found that
despite the alternatives to Channel One that were then already
available (experimental broadcasts by Channel Two, foreign stations,
and the first cable broadcasts), 21 percent of those polled said that
the strike "definitely bothers them," 60 percent said that
during the strike the public did "not have enough information
about events," and 57 percent agreed that "there is not
enough scrutiny of the government" because of the strike.
But the lean years are over.
Israeli television aficionados can now choose from one of the richest
selections of programs available anywhere. In the past, viewers had
few options. If they were unhappy with the programs offered during
the seven hours of broadcasts by the single state-operated channel,
they could, given the right aerial, turn to the neighboring Arabic
stations or the English-language programs available on Jordan, Egypt, Cyprus, or south Lebanon.
Today there are two
competing Israeli channels, each of which is on the air for about
nine or ten hours daily, including the previously sacrosanct daytime
hours of Saturday. Each channel has its own news department and each
broadcasts its major newscast at eight PM. The competition is also
felt keenly in the number of original programs being offered by the
two channels. Anyone still not satisfied can, if he subscribes to one
of the cable companies, choose from among more than 40 other channels
broadcasting in English, Russian, German, Turkish, French, Spanish,
Arabic, Hindi and Italian, besides special channels for children,
sports fans, pop music addicts, nature lovers, and a family channel
and movie channel.
Still, not everyone welcomes
the television revolution. Some lament that the nature of the
programming and the commercial advertising, have impoverished
television as a social-educational tool. The present situation, they
say, recalls the situation 30-40 years ago, when David
Ben-Gurion, Israel's first prime minister, and many others,
intellectuals and practitioners alike, decried what they perceived as
the pernicious impact television was bound to have on the Israeli
society and economy.
One of the skeptics is
Professor Elihu Katz, who as the head of Israel Television's founding
team, shaped and guided state television during its first 20 months
of existence, from July 1967 until March 1969. Katz fears that the
proliferation of channels means that television will lose its
"agenda setting" role. No longer will it be able to
exercise a unifying influence or concentrate the public's interest
around national goals.
When 60 percent and more of
all Israelis tuned into the "Mabat" newscast every evening,
many actually disconnecting their telephone so they would not be
disturbed, and when a high percentage unfailingly watched the weekly
political interview program "Moked", ("Focus,")
the topics these programs addressed became pivotal in the national
discourse. People watched "Mabat" not only to learn about
the day's events but also so they would feel "in" at Friday
night social get-togethers or in conversation with their colleagues
at work. Not everyone shares Prof. Katz's pessimism. Others argue
that a single channel and one newscast held out the potential danger
of "brainwashing," whereas a broad choice of programs means
a plurality of opinions and approaches, Katz disagrees. Studies show,
he maintains, that television does not change opinions but simply
furnishes material for thought and debate. Participatory democracy
requires the creation of common platforms for discussion, but if
there is a plethora of platforms the citizen finds it difficult to
engage in a dialogue on the same terms with his family, friends, and
colleagues.
Prof. Katz is convinced that
fewer people will watch the two newscasts than watched "Mabat"
when it was the exclusive source of television news. Many Israelis,
he believes, will feel that they are exempt from taking part in the
daily "civics hour," and this could have a deleterious
effect. Others believe that, overall, Israel will gain from a decline
in the obsessive television rate of viewing that has characterized
the country up until now.
Television came so late to
Israel because of weighty economic and social considerations. Ben-Gurion
adamantly opposed its introduction, despite the recommendations of a
committee that he himself set up in 1951. He disliked the
entertainment component of television and feared that it would
stimulate materialism and rampant private consumption among the
country's youth. Levi Eshkol,
the minister of finance, thought that because television would
inevitably promote a higher living standard, it should be kept out of
Israel indefinitely.
Such attitudes, we should
remember, were the conventional wisdom during the austerity regime of
the early 1950s and later, when even a refrigerator was considered a
luxury item that should be taxed to the hilt. Television, it was
believed, would inevitably cause waste in two areas: foreign currency
would be required to purchase hundreds of thousands of sets, and an
atmosphere of unrestrained consumerism would be generated even if
advertising were prohibited.
Opposition also came from Orthodox
Jewish circles. Television would show women in
"immodest" dress and broadcast entertainment of a kind
incompatible with Jewish morality. Even today, decades after the mass
arrival of television in Israel, tens of thousands of ultra-Orthodox
households refuse to countenance it. When Rabbi Shmuel Pinhasi, from
the ultra-Orthodox Shas party,
was appointed minister of communications, he refused categorically to
accept responsibility for television, nor did he own a set.
Religious circles waged an
even more bitter struggle against the introduction of television
broadcasts on the Sabbath.
In the early days of Israel Television, the IBA tended to accept
their demand for a Sabbath blackout. However, with the backing of the
Supreme Court, the IBA decided, against the will of Prime Minister Golda
Meir, not to stop broadcasts on Friday evenings (the beginning of
the Jewish Sabbath) . Since the principle of status quo rules in all
matters of religion in Israel, television has broadcast seven days a
week since then, emulating radio, for which a similar status quo
existed from the days the British
mandate.
Television in Israel always
had its supporters as well as its detractors. Politicians,
journalists, and many educators urged its introduction even on a
controlled basis. In 1955, another public committee again recommended
that television be introduced in Israel. Over the years, the Israeli
authorities also consulted three international bodies UNESCO, the
European Broadcasting Union, and the Canadian Broadcasting
Corporation. The experts were unanimous: television should be
introduced in Israel as soon as Possible. During the recession that
preceded the Six-Day War, with
economic growth at a standstill, the debate about television faded,
awaiting better days to reappear on the public agenda.
It was almost by accident
that Prof. Katz played such an influential role in the formative
stage of Israel Television. A few weeks before the Six-Day War of
June 1967, he and the late Prof. Louis Gutmann, the founder of the
social-research institute that bears his name, sent a memorandum to
Israel Galili, the minister in charge of the government's information
apparatus. It was the time of the tense waiting period as the war
clouds gathered, and the two social scientists proposed that they
examine the level of public morale and the public's staying power.
Katz, a professor of
sociology and a founder of the Hebrew University's Institute of
Communications, told Galili that the Israel government, lacking an
influential medium like television to get its message across, was in
an inferior position in the battle for public opinion both at home
and in the neighboring countries. In the Arab states, television was
already popular. In Israel, at the time, some 30,000 households
already owned television sets and could watch the Arab channels. Many
of the sets were owned by Israeli Arabs, who were thus exposed to
hostile anti-Israel propaganda.
Then, in the lead-up to the 1967
war, Israeli leaders suddenly became aware that with all their
detailed planning for a possible military confrontation with the Arab
states, they had overlooked one crucial item. They had no effective
way to rebuff the blustering propaganda of Egyptian President Gamal
Abdul Nasser and Palestinian leader Ahmad Shuqeiri, both of whom, in
fire-breathing harangues, promised to "throw the Israelis into
the sea."
All the anti-television
rationale of the past was swept aside. Prof. Katz and his team were
given an almost impossible mission: to introduce television
broadcasts in both Hebrew and Arabic within a few months. The aim was
to refute the virulent Arab propaganda. Prof. Katz and his team
accomplished the task in eight months. Israel Television's first
transmission was a broadcast of the armed forces parade on
Independence Day, 1968. Afterwards, Katz admitted that if he had
known in advance how complicated and problematic it would be to
broadcast a full military parade, he would have chosen easier
premiere for his enthusiastic but inexperienced crew.
The founding team was
headquartered in a five-story edifice located in Romema, a west Jerusalem neighborhood. Erected in the 1960s, the building had been intended to
house diamond polishing companies that were supposed to move to
Jerusalem. But the diamond industry remained in the coastal region.
The building, which was equally unsuitable for diamond polishing or
television broadcasting, was renovated. It soon housed personnel who
came from all over Israel, from schools and studios, and from veteran
television stations around the world.
Their first task was to
begin Arabic-language transmissions. The immediate goal: to modify
the militaristic image Israel had acquired following its overwhelming
victory in the Six-Day War. A variety of programs played up the
country's achievements in agriculture, health care, education, and
fostering Arab family life. Their success was proved by the thousands
of letters that poured in from viewers in neighboring countries, many
seeking advice on personal problems. Of the most popular programs was
a weekly children's show called "Sami and Susu." So
successful was it, that Hebrew subtitles had to be added for the
Jewish children in Israel who watched it in huge numbers.
From its very inception, the
costs were daunting. Katz was appalled to learn that a half-hour
local entertainment show, could cost as much as $15,000, whereas a
foreign program could be purchased for a fiftieth of that amount.
This, he explained ruefully in an article summing up his experience
in Israel television, was the source of the quip: "If you can't
buy it, don't do it."
Not that there was anything
intrinsically reprehensible about using purchased programs. Even a
country so acutely aware of television's social role - in promoting a
cultural renaissance, helping to ingather the exiles, and building a
nation - needed to "open a window to the world," if only to
gain respite from prolonged regional isolation. Besides, to fill the
broadcast schedule every evening, seven days a week, would be nearly
impossible without imported items such as westerns, British and
American sitcoms, thrillers, and variety shows.
Prof. Katz saw that from the
perspective of a social scientist taking into account the structure
and roles of national television in the broadest sense, (particularly
in small, young countries) the primary problem was how to exploit
this very expensive medium, to supply information and mould culture,
yet also to avoid the pitfalls. Some of the dangers are: a powerful
tendency to prefer the marginal; a superficial emulation of America;
and the politicizing of life in Israel.
Another common risk, social
scientists note, is over-emphasizing the personal dimension in
politics and preferring the politician with a "television
personality" over one who delivers a message based on principles
and values. Electioneering is different in the television age.
Politicians may find it advantageous to "reach" supporters
by "visiting" their home through the medium of television.
The risk is that the trivial assumes grossly inflated importance or
that a politician will project a self-image that is totally false.
It is not clear how
successful the founders of Israeli television were in combating such
tendencies. Communications scholars know that these dangers are not
confined solely to television. Even without television, in McLuhan's
"global village," insularity (assuming it is desirable) is
not a real option, especially in a small but culturally diverse
country like Israel.
The distinctive essence of
television in Israel and its influence on society is probably best
shown in the clear preference of the Israel public, which is
reaffirmed in every survey, for news programs and news-based talk
shows. It was not by chance that the planners of Channel Two, looking
for ways to attract viewers, opted for talk shows based on current
affairs rather than imported dramatic serials. Israelis are showing
diminishing interest in such serials, which are anyway available on
cable television.
In the 1987 survey,
conducted during the IBA strike, 59 percent of those polled said that
they missed the television news programs "very much" and 33
percent complained that they were being deprived of the current
affairs interview shows on television. However, only 19 percent were
upset at having to do without the prestigious and expensive
locally-produced Friday evening entertainment program. If we divide
television into three categories - entertainment, enrichment, and
news - it emerges that what Israelis missed most during the strike
were the news programs, followed by enrichment, with entertainment in
last place. Another finding of this and other studies conducted at
the time was that a large part of the Israeli population settled
itself down every evening in front of the box and watched it, with
hardly a break, until the end of the broadcasts at about one am.
Does the immense interest
Israeli viewers show in news and current affairs reflect political
savvy, particularly on issues related to foreign affairs and
security? In a 1990 study, Dr. Ora Grabelsky, an authority on adult
education, found that many Israelis do not understand key sentences
in radio and television newscasts; this is true of political even
more than economic issues. Viewers compensate by providing their own
interpretations, which are often imaginative and "creative"
for ideas with which they are not familiar.
Dr. Grabelsky's study helps
explain another finding about the public's reaction to the IBA strike
in 1987. Responses were often a function of age and educational
level. Younger and more poorly-educated people are less tenaciously
attached to television news programs. In contrast, all sectors of the
population shared a marked preference for locally-produced
entertainment shows over imported items.
Israelis, it was once
thought, were addicted to soap-opera melodramas such as
"Dallas" and "Dynasty." Even an otherwise dour
leader like the late prime minister, Menahem
Begin, did not hesitate to confess that he was a regular viewer
of "Dallas." The cable television companies even chose to
broadcast a South American melodrama at the sacred hour of the "Mabat"
newscast on Israel Television. Public opinion surveys prove that
viewers' tastes have neither changed nor is there a contradiction
between their interest in melodramas and their preference for current
affairs shows and local entertainment. The three companies that were
awarded the franchises for Channel Two (each company has two
broadcast days a week, the seventh day is rotated among them) chose a
formula - after commissioning surveys that revolves around news and
current affairs interview programs. The insertion of entertainment
slots, featuring Israeli performers, in current affairs talk shows
such as Channel One's "PoPolitika" and Dan Shilon's
interview show on Channel Two are consistent with the findings of the
surveys.
Perhaps under the influence
of CNN, which already reaches more than 750,000 households in Israel,
and perhaps because of their belief Israelis' hunger for news, both
channels display a readiness to pre-empt regular programming in favor
of live coverage of breaking stories. This goes beyond the event
itself, to encompass reactions, commentary and coverage of residual
developments.
Three examples are 4 May
1994, when Israel and the PLO signed the agreement for Israel's
withdrawal from the Gaza Strip and Jericho; and a week later, on
the night of 10-11 May, when the two channels devoted the evening to
covering the results of the elections to the Histadrut Federation of Labour, in which the challenger, Haim
Ramon, was victorious; and in November, 1994, when Israel and
Jordan signed a peace agreement. Incidentally, the two channels
compete not only in coverage of special events but also in regular
interview programs. On some evenings the same personalities manage to
appear on both channels, scurrying from one studio to the other.
That both channels crave to
satisfy the public's curiosity about major events seems to conflict
with Prof. Katz's ideas about television's impact on setting the
"national agenda." The lesson of the current change in the
status of television in Israel seems to be that television does not
so much set the national agenda as follow in its wake. As long as the
Israeli public displays an interest in a certain topic, television
will reflect that interest. This is equally true of state television
and commercial television.
Katz concedes that when it
comes to major events, the two channels do discern the national
agenda and give it expression. But he believes that this is not
enough. He would like to see television play a natural role in the
realization of participatory democracy.
In its first years, the
studies show, Israel Television set the national agenda even in the
realm of entertainment. Dramatic series produced by the BBC, such as
"The Forsythe Saga," were so popular at social and public
events were timed not to clash with the screening of each new
episode. Nowadays, Israelis do not get so overwrought about
television. Anyway, the proliferation of programs now makes it less
likely that a mass audience will become obsessively attached to a
particular program.
Where then, does the
difference lie between the two channels in terms of shaping the image
of Israeli society? Some argue that Channel One, constantly subject
to intense political infighting before the appointment of its
executive bodies and the approval of its budget, will unavoidably
remain part of officialdom and be subject to the currently ruling
party. Others claim that Israel Television's subordination to the
government is steadily declining.
The present structure of the
two television authorities, the one a state organ and the other a
public body, with each answerable to an appointed committee which
supposedly functions as an independent board of directors, is the
result of legislation following political compromises, pressures, and
recommendations of public commissions. The conflicting pressures
caused such a lengthy delay in the operation of Channel Two that it
finally began regular broadcasting just as cable television was
making its entry on the scene.
Already in the first years
of Israeli television, when it was barely possible to meet the
economic demands of the new medium, there were calls for a second
channel. Clearly a new channel could not be underwritten by the state
or by means of imposing a second television licensing fee on the
public. The solution, it was universally agreed, was that it would be
commercial, to be financed by selling advertising, as in other
countries.
The calls for a second
channel were not prompted only by the public's appetite for a greater
variety of programs. Experts claimed that only through competition
could higher standards be achieved. Social scientists looked askance
at the pressures that both major political camps exerted on state
television. Only if the monopoly of a single channel was abolished,
they argued, would it be possible to extricate the medium from the
bear-hug of the politicians, dispel the complaints by both sides of
partiality, and invoke independent journalistic and artistic criteria
in television broadcasting.
One group that opposed the
idea of setting up a second channel was the newspaper owners. They
maintained that the volume of advertising pie was insufficient to
sustain both a second television channel and the existence of an
independent press in Israel. The experience of other countries,
including some in western Europe, showed that the print press, whose
function as the watchdog of democracy television could not fulfill,
had taken a severe financial beating when substantial parts of
advertising budgets were shifted to television.
The opponents of a second
channel were also unconvinced, disagreeing with the argument that
competition would necessarily improve quality. If the experience of
others meant anything, they said, standards would suffer with both
channels trying to win the popularity stakes. Besides, it was said,
advertising, especially for imported products, would increase
consumption and create a taste for luxury goods. The gravest fears in
this regard focused on commercials aimed at children. Such
advertising might set parents against children, the latter not
understanding that their parents simply could not afford to satisfy
their craving for products they had seen on television.
There was also the question
of who would control the second channel. The officials of the IBA and
various politicians wanted any new channel to be part of the
Authority. This, they said, was the only way to prevent waste and
duplication (why, for example, send two crews of reporters and
technicians to cover an event?) and ensure that there would be no
discrimination against the state channel. Others demanded that
private elements be permitted to operate the new channel and that it
be financed solely from advertising revenues.
In 1985, a public commission
headed by former interior ministry director-general Chaim Kubersky
recommended the establishment of a separate public authority for the
new channel, to be modeled on the Independent Broadcasting Authority
which then operated in Great Britain. The Kubersky Commission's
report was not implemented and the bill it formulated was not
submitted to the Knesset for
enactment. Still, following some years of intensive lobbying and
political power struggles, the principle was finally adopted of
setting up a separate public body for commercial television. Cable
television did not experience such tribulations, as its operation was
enabled through a legislative amendment that privatized the Israeli
telecommunications system.
Although a public committee
exists to oversee programming standards on cable television, its
intervention has been virtually nonexistent. The only clash the cable
companies have had with the establishment has been over the denial of
their request to broadcast commercials immediately.
If the cable companies are
permitted to broadcast commercials, their already steep profits will
be augmented even further. Cable television is highly lucrative and
will become even more so once the process of linking subscribers is
completed.
Since four groups competed
for the three available Channel Two franchises, and since each group
wanted to impress the selection committee, everyone signed up as many
"stars" as they could from broadcasting and show business
and pledged to produce expensive current affairs programs and provide
investigative reportage. But before a year was out, the franchise
holders were forced to trim expenses' forego some of their stars, and
even cancel big budget investigative programs. The winners were the
popular entertainment shows. Although it is still too early to draw
final conclusions, some experts forecast that the cheap shows will
push aside the better, but more expensive ones.
In the meantime, there are
no signs that the Israeli public is complaining because Channel Two
has not lived up to its promises. Surveys show that at nine PM, after
the "Mabat" newscast on Channel One, there is a massive
shift to the light programs of Channel Two. After nine PM, there are
evenings in which at least two viewers are tuned to Channel Two for
every one that continues to watch Channel One.
In their business plans all
three winners of the Channel Two tender took into account losses
during the first year of operation. There are indications that this
forecast has been realized and that the losses of two of the
broadcasting companies have in fact been considerably higher than had
been anticipated. However, despite these results, there is a general
feeling of satisfaction both among investors and the public, over the
performance of Israel's commercial television channel during its
first year of operation.
While the viewing audience
has by no means abandoned Channel One, which is making valiant
efforts to hold on to its viewers, it has proved that it also wants
Channel Two. It wants it enough to make it economically viable.
Advertisers, who in 1994, diverted more than 20 percent of their
total advertising budgets to commercial television (at the expense of
newspaper and billboard advertising) are also satisfied with the
results. Thus, funds diverted to television advertising are likely to
grow in the next few years.
Less satisfied with Channel
Two programming is Shulamit Aloni,
the minister of communications and culture. When signing the tenders
for granting licenses to the first local private radio stations,
Aloni made no bones about her deeply-felt hope that unlike commercial
television, commercial radio would not "indulge in an overdose
of programs of mindless parlor games and prizes whose sole purpose is
to attract an audience."
Dissatisfaction is also
expressed over the level of cable TV broadcasts. The cable companies,
who according to some critics, were in effect awarded "a license
to print money," are evading their obligation to produce
original programs, particularly local newsreels, which require them
to spend money.
The 44th annual State
Comptroller's Report, published in May 1994, took the cable companies
to task for not upholding the commitment with regard to original
programming. Still, despite the report, it seems unlikely that the
cable franchise holders can be pressured into producing original
programs.
Incidentally, the state's
revenues from the cable franchises are miniscule. In 1993 they stood
at six million dollars, and even this was a major increase over
previous years. By contrast, the income of the cable companies is
currently in excess of $250 million per annum, a sum that will
increase when the cable stations are permitted to screen commercials.
Both Channel Two and the
cable companies see themselves as the rivals of the state television
station. Not only does the IBA have the exclusive right to collect an
annual licensing fee of $120 from each household that owns a
television, it also augments its revenues by selling radio spots and
by screening paid "service announcements" and "program
sponsorships" on television. This "advertising" on the
state television station, which is formally prohibited, is seen by
the franchise holders as a flagrant circumvention of the regulations.
The "service announcements" are ostensibly meant to
encourage national goals, such as conserving water, preventing
traffic accidents or encouraging the purchase of home-grown
agricultural products. The "program sponsorships" are
supposedly a form of contribution to the IBA, but in fact, the
sponsors ensure that their name is repeated ceaselessly and the
benefit is undoubtedly equal to that of a regular advertiser.
It is not yet fully clear
what Israeli viewers will make of the cornucopia pouring into their
lap with the onset of Channel Two and the expansion of cable
television. Consequently, it is difficult to predict the character
and shape of Israeli television in the latter half of the 1990s.
Still, there are growing signs that Channel One and Channel Two will
each develop its own distinct character by reducing areas of
competition and producing its own brand of programming. The
programming of cable television and the habits of its viewers are
also in the formative stage.
To conclude: the abundance
and variety that the Israeli television viewer will enjoy in the
coming years will not necessarily lead him to spend more time in
front of the box. Nor will it inevitably lead to a higher general
standard of programs, or even a greater influence by television on
the national agenda. Many believe that television's exponential
growth will actually lead to less time devoted to viewing. We are
unlikely to see a recurrence of the ardor with which the average
Israeli welcomed television when it first arrived on the scene in
1968.
Sources: Israeli
Foreign Ministry |