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A cool cat from Los Angeles

Shahar AzaniSHAHAR Azani’s job title –– consul for culture, media and public affairs for the Consulate General of Israel in Los Angeles –– is an official  mouthful.

After five minutes, the appealing 32-year-old Israeli condenses his extensive responsibilities into a few impassioned morsels: Israel, heart, love, connection.

His professional portfolio includes setting the record straight on Israel and hooking up Jewish communities with top-flight Israeli entertainment.

He also meets with Hollywood execs and entrepreneurs to import more Israeli TV series like B’Tipul (known here as the hugely successful “In Treatment”) to America’s perpetually thirsty shores.

But as Mr. Sinatra crooned, Azani does it his way.

Community interface –– like his appearance at Denver’s BMH-BJ that next day –– “is number one for me,” he says in the IJN conference room, his suit and smile unruffled despite having just arrived from LA.

Appointed to the consulate last August after serving as deputy ambassador at Israel’s embassy in Nairobi, Kenya, Azani admits he “had no idea what to expect from American Jews.

“You hear that the ties are weakening, that the Diaspora doesn’t feel the same way toward Israel. I was so surprised to see all the love, support and affection from so many members of the American Jewish community. These are people of good will, good hearts.”

Well acquainted with the ideological rope pulling between liberal and conservative US Jews regarding Israel, Azani reaches across the table.

“There is so much to divide us. There also is so much to bring us together. Focus on the positive.

“We all know that politics has a role in Diaspora relations, but that’s mainly played out in Washington,” he says.

“Here we need to play to the hearts and minds of people and connect them to Israel on many, many levels.

“The solution will not be found politician to politician, diplomat to diplomat, prime minister to president,” he stresses.

“It’s person to person.”

When Azani first arrived in LA, he was scheduled to address a convention attended by Jewish leaders across the religious and political spectrum.

“As you can imagine, it was not the easiest environment for an Israeli diplomat,” he recalls. “In fact, a colleague whispered in my ear, ‘Shahar, this is going to be hard. It’s going to be a barbecue.’”

A barbecue?

“A grilling,” he translates. “So I smiled, as I usually do, and said, ‘I’m here, these are my people, and I’m going in.’”

Azani spoke about his personal experiences as an Israeli in Africa, “not from a speech level, but a person on the ground telling stories that actually happened.”

The approach was successful.

“I don’t want to be the blow horn of an op-ed piece in the Jerusalem Post,” he says now. “You need to create a voice of your own.

“When I speak in my capacity as an Israeli representative, I’m often asked if I’d like to read the questions in advance. I say absolutely not –– because if I know the questions ahead of time, the answers may lose their sincerity.

“And to penetrate the heart, you must be sincere.”

He says some American Jews –– even here in Colorado –– feel the that the Israeli Consulate “is too far away because it’s in Los Angeles: that we’re inaccessible and unable to provide real assistance.

“Pardon my Italian, but that’s baloney,” he laughs. “We’re an e-mail away. We’re here for you. Tell us what you need. Use us, help us, show us the way. This is more important than ever before.”

IF a synagogue in Denver wants to bring a wonderful Israeli musician or singer or dance ensemble for a special cultural evening, what’s the process?

Popular and even lesser known artists have websites that  provide booking availability, fees and contact information.

Of course, the singer might not be able to perform in Denver for a year; and the synagogue must raise enough cash to purchase a round-trip ticket from Israel.

“Arranging an event with an Israeli artist is hard,” Azani says. “There’s the cost, all the schlepping. In the end, you wonder whether it’s even doable.

“Our power doesn’t lie in financial help,” he says of the Israeli consulate. “Our power is being a major intersection of opportunities and ideas.”

The consulate is in the process of establishing a database that lists all Israeli artistic venues –– theater, dance groups, musicians, literature –– that are coming to Los Angeles.

“I can pick up the phone and say, ‘Denver, Idan Raichel is coming here in a few weeks. All it takes is paying for the flight from LA and a small fee.’ Or ‘Tucson? We have a spectacular dance group that is going to perform a special concert in LA in 2010. Why don’t we organize a tour?’

“It’s so much more efficient,” he enthuses. “It makes it so much easier for you to feel Israel, and for us to give you Israel. And let’s not forget, the idea is to have fun.

“At the end of the day, that’s what we’re all about as human beings. It’s not just the hassle of politics but the feeling of the heart.”

HALF a century ago, Israeli movies generally offered sparse, low-budget portraits of a nascent Jewish state still feeling its birth pangs.

Young couples struggled valiantly on a kibbutz. Dazed Holocaust survivors tried to make sense of each new day, while their sabra offspring tried to make sense of the Holocaust.

As Israeli life evolved, creative minds turned a kaleidoscope on their conflicted, joyous and eclectic society.


“We have experienced an incredible period of bloom in Israel,” Azani says of the film and TV industries. “As a result of ‘In Treatment,’ which really opened the door, Hollywood is showing strong interest in Israeli ingenuity and creativity.”

The movies Beaufort and Waltz with Bashir were recent contenders for Oscars in the category of best foreign film –– right up there with the formidable likes of Sweden, Denmark, France, Germany and Spain.

Azani advocates utilizing Hollywood’s incredible global influence to reshape Israel’s image.

“Think of Italy,” he says. “What comes to mind? A garden with a large table, a checkered table cloth, gelato, spaghetti, wine, the kids running around, the grapevines. That’s all courtesy of Hollywood.”

Azani feels the stereotypical perception of Israel is “cold, remote, aggressive –– technologically advanced, overly bureaucratic.”

He can counter these stereotypes until he’s blue in the face, but a single Hollywood film company that chooses Israel as the setting for a non-political love story could change everything.

“We need more Hollywood interaction: film companies that come here to make movies that have nothing to do with terror, nothing to do with the conflict,” he says.

“No longer should Israel be portrayed in the context of the Holocaust, kibbutzim, oranges –– or occupation.”

MARRIED and the father of two children, the innately positive Azani has endured years of terrorist attacks and ceaseless declarations calling for Israel’s annihilation.

Like all Israelis, the shadow of fear haunts him.

“In the mid-1990s, I saw this six-year-old Palestinian boy on an Israeli TV show,” says the Ramat Gan native. “He was interviewed on the hills of Judea and Samaria.

“He pointed toward Israel and said, ‘Our goal is to eliminate the Jews.’

“Fifteen years ago, that boy I saw on TV was six. Today he’s 21. Will he raise arms against the state of Israel? This is the future generation. Will we again see the past incarnated in the future?”

Educating the young, more than any political policy or brokered peace deal, is the best way to ensure Israel’s survival.

“We have to touch the kids through education,” he says.

“It’s the most strategic tool we have.

“We must imbed the concept of peace in the educational model, rather than a Hamas Mickey Mouse calling for jihad.”

The violence ingrained in Palestinian children “terrifies me more than any grown terrorist,” he says.

“For I will go down with the adult terrorist –– but those Palestinian kids will remain after I’m gone.”

Azani affirms a two-state solution because it ensures a Jewish majority in Israel. How that solution is achieved is another matter.

“We need a peace that generates not from agreements signed on the White House lawn but from people who can feel the benefits on the ground: security for Israeli children who can board buses without fear; removing checkpoints in the West Bank allowing for freer movement.

“We don’t need an armed struggle. We need to fight for a viable society.”

He refocuses his attention on the lyrical Israel.

His favorite writer is S.Y. “Shai” Agnon, a Nobel Prize laureate and one of the greatest figures in modern Hebrew literature.

“When I want to be inspired, I read ‘Tehilla,’ one of Agnon’s short stories,” he  says. “I smell Jerusalem of old. I smell my people’s history. And it fills me with a sense of purpose.”

Azani, whose grandfather was Yemenite, remembers his time in Africa with poetic awe.

Somehow, Israel sang to him.

“In those cold nights in Nairobi, we had Shabbat dinners with the small Jewish community,” he says. “We’re huddled together at the table, our families far away. My wife Elinor is preparing the food. The kids are playing.

“As I look at the deep darkness and beautiful serenity of the African skies, I would listen to a recording of Idan Raichel singing a Yemenite prayer.

“I hear my grandfather. I connect with my identity, both personally and nationally –– to my family, to my Israel.

“And that,” Azani says to an audience of one, “touches your heart.”



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IJN Senior Writer | [email protected]


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