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The induction of the new Knesset this week raised some crucial issues for women in Israeli society, but you’d never know it from following the news. The blogosphere was abuzz this week, but not with stories about the significant strides made by women — for example, the record number of women Knesset members and party leaders; the fact that the religious Zionist Habayit Hayehudi party, the only religious party with women on its list and gender issues in its platform, now holds a key position in coalition negotiations; or the fact that negotiations hinge in large part on demands for mandatory conscription of haredi men, a plan with serious implications for women in the status of women IDF. All of these issues may potentially affect women’s lives and status in Israel, but apparently they’re all, well, boring. The real news, apparently (even here at the Sisterhood) was what Prime Minister Bibi Netanyahu’s wife wore to the inauguration.

There are many good reasons why Sara Netanyahu’s dress should not be news. For one thing, she is not a lawmaker and therefore should not be the focus of the story. The news of the day should have been about 120 incoming legislators, 48 of whom are completely new to the institution and 27 of whom are women. It should have been about issues on the national agenda and the civic mission of the new Knesset, not on spouses’ clothing.

Second of all, if Sara Netanyahu had any relevance on the events of the day, it is related to her ideas and influence on the most powerful man in the country. It took Netanyahu several days after the elections to contact Naftali Bennet, the head of Habayit Hayehudi, reportedly because Sara doesn’t like him. If we want to discuss Sara’s role in the Israel, we should be talking about why she doesn’t want Bennet in the coalition, and how her taste in politicians — not her taste in clothing — will impact Israel’s government.

Finally, and most importantly, the discussion of Sara’s attire reduces our public discourse, especially about women, and drags us all into the gutter. This whole story is more of a reflection about us as a society than it is about Sara’s taste. What does it say about our values when, on the day when we are forming a new government that will impact every aspect of our civic lives, all we are interested in is the so-called fashion police? Consider how shallow it is to care more about style than substance as we empty our minds and completely undermine our lawmakers. After all, if we are asking them to represent us and then demonstrate an undying commitment to rubbish, how will our lawmakers interpret “the needs and interests of the people” when it comes to creating legislation on our behalf? One can only wonder. How can we ask them to take us seriously when we don’t take ourselves seriously?

Significantly, several lawmakers from different sides of the spectrum have commented on this media obsession. Likud’s Limor Livnat called it “sexist slander,” Shas MK Aryeh Deri said it’s “disgusting” and “not modest” (the media attention, not the dress!), and Meretz head Zehava Galon said that it’s “a product of chauvinistic norms that expect women to be aesthetically pleasing objects focused on appearance and not substance.”

Clothes may not make the man, but apparently they do make the woman. In America, it seems that no matter how successful, intelligent or high-ranking a woman is, she will ultimately be measured by her looks. At least that’s the message gleaned from a recent interview Secretary of State Hillary Clinton gave in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan:

Interviewer: Okay. Which designers do you prefer?
Clinton: What designers of clothes?
Interviewer: Yes.
Clinton: Would you ever ask a man that question?
Interviewer: Probably not. Probably not.

Depressingly, this is not the first time that Clinton — whose resume boasts titles such as Secretary of State, former New York Senator and former 2008 Democratic presidential candidate — has faced sexist commentary objectifying her body rather than respecting her work. As the Guardian asked, “She’s hoping to become the most powerful woman in the world — so why does Hillary Clinton wear such uninspiring clothes?” Fox News talked about her “nagging voice,” and when the Huffington Post ran a caption competition for a photo of Clinton with her mouth open, the obnoxious entries started rolling in. News cycles have devoted extensive coverage to her pants, her ankles, her skin and, perhaps most notoriously, her cleavage. During the 2008 elections, the Women’s Media Center compiled a compelling video montage of the pervasive sexism that women like Clinton have had to endure.

Of course, Clinton is not the only woman facing this overbearing obsession with her appearance. Recent examples of this kind of sexism have included media commentary on Connecticut Rep. Rosa DeLauro’s “fashion sense”, Democratic Party chairwoman Debbie Wasserman Schultz’s hair, and New York State Senator Kirsten Gillibrand’s make-up. I submit that professional women in a variety of fields deal with opinions of their work based on unspoken judgments about their appearance all the time.

Society’s obsession with women’s appearance causes definite damage to women in many aspects of our lives. A research report by the Name it. Change it. campaign of the Women’s Media Center shows that sexism in any form hurts female candidates, and makes nearly every potential voter, from the undecided to initial supporters, less likely to cast a ballot for them. “Nearly seven in ten voters report being less likely to vote for Jane Smith after they hear her being called an ice queen and a mean girl; as well as more strongly sexist language,” the report concluded. “Sexism costs a woman an average of 10 points in favorability.” In the sports arena, female athletes, even those with gold medals, are also judged on their looks. Gabby Douglas’ hair to wit.

Just because I wear pants, it doesn’t mean I lack dignity. Or self-respect. Or even modesty.

Which is why I find pieces, like this one, suggesting that dignity for a woman means excessive body-cover, so offensive.

When rabbis or anyone else claim that women need to cover their skin, their elbows, ankles and necks for the sake of “dignity” or “self-respect” or “protecting sexuality,” what that means is that people who dress like me are not dignified. We are overly sexualized. We might as well be walking naked on the subway platform. But It is just not true.

My body is mine alone, and I project that in my clothes. Not floor-sweeping skirts, not scarves to my forehead or necklines that choke. No, I wear pants, sometimes jeans, sometimes shorts and, yes, sometimes even sleeveless tops. I wear clothes that are comfortable, that feel good, that let me move and sit on the floor or in a chair, that enable me to ride a bike or climb a tree if I so choose, that let me wear my hair in a ponytail or in a scrunchie or even just down. Ultimately my hair is mine alone, as are my elbows, my neck, my ankles and skin. Before I look in a mirror, I look inward and ask myself how I feel about my body at this moment, and I let my inner voice of self-respect guide me.

In addition Gavriella Lerner’s assertion of choice followed by an admission that she does what she believes is expected of her according to halacha is a classic Orthodox non-sequitur. As in, I choose to do what I’m told.

This op-ed appeared in the Times of Israel on 31 Jan 2012

A woman who we know only by the Hebrew initial of her name, “Resh,” is under some intense pressure, and I do not envy her predicament.

According to a reports by State Comptroller Micha Lindenstrauss, Resh was the victim of sexual harassment by one of the leading aides to Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, Natan Eshel. The accusations are pretty serious: Eshel is said to have been obsessed with Resh, who was working directly for him, not only to the extend that he stalked her and spied on her, but even by strategically placing cameras to photograph her under her skirt. Three members of the PM’s senior staff filed complaints with Lindenstrauss – apparently unbeknownst to one another – and another four staffers have already given testimony on these events. But thus far, Resh has insisted that she does not want to testify.

Her position is understandable. The women who filed police complaints of rape against then-president Moshe Katsav – who was convicted in a ruling that has since been upheld by the Supreme Court – had their lives ruined in the process. One of the complainants, who is officially known as “Aleph” but whose identity is known to everyone in the media , had to move out of Israel because she had lost all semblance of privacy. She also continued to be harassed by Katsav’s people throughout the four-year ordeal, according to the judges in the case. And on top of everything else, she could not get another job in Israel.

This is a tragic reality for high-profile rape victims. Before the story broke, Aleph’s career was in great shape, as she was managing one of the highest offices in the country, and today she has lost it all – all because she came forth to tell the world she had been raped. So when Resh says she fears that she will become like Aleph, her fears are justified. If her identity is revealed, it will likely end her career. One day you’re working in the Prime Minister’s office, and the next you’re out of a job, perhaps permanently.

There’s more. The Aleph who moved out of the country was one of the complainants whose charges were eventually dropped from the case (the “second” Aleph, a different victim, remained on the indictment). So this poor woman went through an excruciating ordeal: After allegedly enduring rape and sexual harassment, which is traumatic in and of itself, she went through the pain of revealing her story, losing her home and career in the process. And ultimately it was for naught; she gained nothing. I will never forget what she said at her famous press conference after she learned that her case was removed from the indictment: “Women’s groups are not going to like this, but my advice to rape victims is, don’t go to the police. Get help, get therapy, do what you have to do for yourself. But don’t file a complaint. It’s not worth the price.”

Trapped in the corridors of power?

Resh has clearly taken heed. Right now, she has to choose between justice and her own well-being, between fighting to put a sex offender behind bars – or at the very least to get him removed from the PM’s office, which one might have expected Netanyahu to act on already – or fighting for her own privacy, future and personal freedom. That is a terrible position to be in, but that is the plight of women sexually attacked by men in power.

Still, there are some signs of hope for Resh. For one thing, there seem to be a lot of people in the PM’s office who are on her side. In addition, the country just finished convicting a former-president rapist, and there may be more willingness to hear her story for what it is. There may also be more sympathy among potential future employers, more openness to understanding that it was not her fault. It sounds like such a simple concept, but that is her fight. The world has to understand that sexual violence is not the victim’s fault. I do think that, thanks in part to the Katsav trial, Israeli society’s appreciation of the implications of sexual violence just may be changing.

Personally, I hope she decides to come forward, despite the potential cost. The country needs to hear her story and to continue to understand the dynamics of sexual abuse. I am certain that there are many more in her position, and maybe if she comes forward, others will join her fight as well. She may even find that some of us who thankfully are not in her harrowing position may be able to offer her some welcome support and encouragement as well.

Read more: http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/paying-the-public-price-of-rape/

Elana: Sztokman: Why did you decide to write this book?

Jennie Rosenfield: My work at The Tzelem Project, which I cofounded in 2005 with Koby Frances in order to address sexual education in the Orthodox community, convinced me of the need for such a book. … Running training conferences for chatan and kallah [grooms- and brides-to-be] teachers and rabbis, hearing the questions that were asked, I saw the need first-hand: Seeing the outpouring of people that came to our conferences, wanting to learn from medical and mental health professionals so that they could do a better job at preparing their students, seeing the way that often the teachers don’t know anything about sex beyond their own experiences, and speaking to young couples who simply weren’t given enough information or accurate information about how to begin their sexual relationship. This was the real tragedy for me.

Pressure against the Pu’ah to abstain from holding a conference for men only on fertility and Jewish law seems to be working. As of this morning, 9 out of 10 Israeli doctors scheduled to speak had withdrawn. In addition, the Ethics Board of the Physicians’ Union announced that from now on doctors will not be allowed to participate in medical events orconferences in which women are excluded, either as speakers or patients. This is an enormous victory by any social activism standards. A roundtable of 30 social justice organizations convened by the New Israel Fund over the past few months to address the exclusion of women seems to be largely responsible for this success. Dr. Hanna Kehat, founder of the religious women’s forum Kolech, brought the Pu’ah conference to the attention of the other members of the roundtable — and several member organizations helped activate pressure. (Full disclosure: I also sit on the roundtable, representing The Center for Women’s Justice. Everything reported here is with permission).

Lili Ben Ami and Limor Levy Osemi, of the Lobby for Equality Between the Sexes, have been particularly influential in achieving the support of the physicians’ Ethics’ Board, and have been speaking to doctors, Knesset members and members of the media. Mickey Gitzin, director of Be Free Israel, which promotes civil equality, has also been encouraging doctors not to cave into Haredi pressure.

Read more: http://blogs.forward.com/sisterhood-blog/149359/#ixzz1jbWWJRGz

For Huda Naccache, Israel’s 2011 representative in the Miss Earth beauty pageant, wearing a bikini is important for career advancement.

The 21-year old Christian Arab from Haifa has modeling ambitions, and in order to get noticed, she posed in a bikini for the cover of the Arab Israeli women’s magazine Lilac.

This may not sound like a big deal in a world where everyone from rock stars to child television icons seems to be willing to pose nearly nude for some photo or another. But in Huda’s community, such exposure for women is still taboo.

The ancient walls of the City of David have never witnessed such a scene. Over four thousand women gathered outside Jaffa Gate last Thursday for the first ever mass festival of women’s athletics in Jerusalem. Women wearing scarves and long skirts shook their bodies alongside women in tank-tops and Lycra shorts to the overpowering thump-thump of dance-music as instructors shouted out motivating instructions like, “Come on, girls! Move those hips!”

The sexual lives of religious women will be a leading topic of discussion at a panel at the upcoming Kolech conference. Dr. Naomi Marmon Grumet, a leading researcher on the subject of religious women's intimate lives, will be examining the differences between orthodox men and orthodox women in preparation for marriage, on a panel that promises to open up new arenas of discourse for religious women.

I have a knack for embarrassing my children.

Like when I sing along while they listen to “Funkytown” with their friends (is it my fault 80’s music is the new retro fad?) Or when I start doing the hip-hop line-dance to Mary J. Blige’s “Just Fine” in the middle of the living room. “Ima, please stop,” is what I usually get in response. (Just for the record, my oldest daughter secretly loved the dance and had me show it to her, but she’ll never admit that to her friends.)

So I speak, sing, and dance to my heart’s delight, but invariably endure that unmistakable look of desperately seeking out the nearest rock to crawl under. Ah, motherhood.