One thing that cannot be said of Pnina Tamano-Shata is that she's "all right." You either get her, or you're put off by her. She just made history by becoming the first cabinet minister of Ethiopian descent in Israel's history, and she is opinionated, vocal, and projects great self-confidence.
Speaking to Israel Hayom in her new office at the Ministry Aliyah and Integration, she does two things that indicate her management style: first, she looks for the office cleaner to thank her personally for her work, and then she kicks off her high heels.
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"Madame Minister," I greet her, having covered her work in the Knesset for the past seven years.
Tamano-Shata bursts out laughing: "I'm a minister. Can you believe it?"
"When I got here, I told my staff that we needed to go back to an office in the Knesset. It's not easy to move from the Knesset to a ministerial office, I admit. All of a sudden, there's security, I'm called 'the minister' … It doesn't come naturally," she says.
"I know where I come from and where I started, and all I care about is doing good. I want to keep my feet on the ground, and I'm here to work."
Tamano-Shata does not intend to let the current ministry staff go and bring in her own people. She believes that she should be working with professionals who are familiar with the ministry.
"A lot of people think I'm militant, because I fight against racism and discrimination. They think it comes from feelings of oppression or anger. But most of my battles stem from love for this society. Even though I come from the Ethiopian sector, I'm first of all the minister for all new olim [immigrants]. We're all brothers, and everyone has a place around the fire," she says.
With all due respect to talk of unity, Tamano-Shata, 38, would not be a minister if she hadn't left the politician who put her on his Knesset list, Yesh Atid leader Yair Lapid.
Q: How did Lapid respond when you told him you were leaving Yesh Atid to join the government with Benny Gantz?
"He was disappointed, and I can understand his disappointment. I was a young member of Yesh Atid and he always treated me very well. I had a strong relationship with him even when I wasn't in the Knesset.
"But if it came down to Lapid and Yesh Atid or the interests of the public, it was absolutely clear to me what I'd choose. I chose the values on which I was raised. I'm an independent person, with independent opinions. I didn't see myself voting against a unity government.
"I was really downcast when Blue and White split up. I wanted us to join a unity government, and I talked about that at faction meetings. I said that no one should think they were more moral than I was. This is because holding a fourth election would be the least moral thing for the people.
"A week after the [party] broke up, I realized that if I stayed in Yesh Atid, I would lose myself. I called Yair and told him, crying, that I was leaving."
Lapid asked her over and the two had a long talk about what she was planning to do, and he asked her to reconsider.
"But I made my choice," Tamano-Shata says.
Q: Was Yesh Atid just a political springboard?
"Yesh Atid changed over the years. I define myself as center-right, and I'm very traditional. When I went back to Yesh Atid in 2018, the party seemed different.
"So when Blue and White was established, no one was happier than me. I think it was an appropriate partnership. I liked [Benny] Gantz's first speech a lot, a speech in which he talked about connecting the fringes and unity, not about Right and Left. The fact is, Blue and White's results in the last three elections spoke for themselves."
Q: Blue and White was run by a "cockpit." How did you feel about the quartet of Gantz, Lapid, Moshe Ya'alon, and Gabi Ashkenazi?
"I didn't like what they called the 'cockpit.' The militaristic name put women off a bit. There was something macho about the cockpit that I couldn't connect to, and the same went for a lot of other female party members. Also, four people making decisions rather than one simply didn't work.
"Today, the discourse in Blue and White is much more open. Gantz consults with us. Our opinions are important to him, which is the biggest difference you see in faction meetings. The MKs are partners in decision-making."
Q: What about everyone who is disappointed in Gantz, the ones who voted for him because he promised not to join the government of a prime minister under criminal indictment?
"I can understand their disappointment. On the other hand, they need to understand that the alternative was to drag the country into another election, which wasn't an option. Leadership requires brave decisions and opting for the public good, not necessarily what the public wants. In that case, the voice of that public spirit was the voice of the objectors, but that doesn't mean that they were the majority. They just made the most noise."
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The first time Tamano-Shata saw Gantz was 35 years ago. She, then three years old, had just arrived in Israel after an exhausting trip from Ethiopia via Sudan. He was the deputy commander of the IDF's Shaldag Unit, which was part of Operation Moses, a covert evacuation of Ethiopian Jews from Sudan in 1984.
"The penny didn't drop for me until the AIPAC conference last year, when Benny and I were there together," she says. "He saw my starting point, the most dramatic moment in my life, and that gave meaning to our joint work.
"When my father saw the military plane that came to take us to Israel, he was frightened and ran back to the desert with me. A soldier grabbed him and calmed him down. I remember that the soldiers brought us candy and bags of water. It was a formative moment in my life.
"After the airplane doors closed, I realized that my mother and sisters weren't there. Their truck had broken down, and they stayed behind in Sudan. I didn't know if they were alive or not. Every day, I'd stand at the entrance to the temporary housing at the immigrant absorption center in Pardes Hanna and pray that Mom would come back. They didn't get to Israel until a year later.
"Benny Gantz was a beloved figure in the Ethiopian community, which appreciates military figures who contribute to the country. When he speaks to the community, I don't feel as if he's speaking to them because of me. He doesn't really need me, he has ties there. I appreciate him for giving 40 years of his life to our country -- him and Gabi Ashkenazi both.
"People talk about Gantz being a 'political corpse,' but he and Ashkenazi were both willing to become actual corpses for the sake of the rest of us. They commanded so many soldiers from all sectors of society, and that's important to me. Because of that, they are familiar with the different parts of society."
Tamano-Shata is considered a ground-breaker and a leader in the Ethiopian community in Israel. She is the granddaughter of Kais Shato Maharat, who comes from a long line of prominent spiritual leaders among Ethiopian Jewry, a sixth-generation descendant of Abba Meheri Sutal, a Jewish monk who lived and worked in Ethiopia in the 19th century and served as the spiritual leader for the Beta Israel community.
She has positive memories of her early time in Israel.
"My entire life I've felt as Israeli as it's possible to be. I was raised in a religious home. I studied at the Tzfira seminary in a program for gifted Ethiopian students, and then I went on to the Carmit seminary at the Ort Academic College in Jerusalem.
"At age 12 I'd go help my mother at her work. She was a cleaner at Hasharon Hospital. I even helped her when I was a law student in Kiryat Ono. I did it out of respect. Respecting your parents is a primary value in our community.
"She didn't like it that I came with her because she didn't want me to get used to that kind of work. She taught me not to look down on any work or any person, but she wanted me to understand that no one is fated to work as a cleaner and I needed to have my own ambitions.
Tamano-Shata met her husband, Zion, an operations manager at Mekorot National Water Company, when mutual friends fixed them up. They have a daughter and a son, Tahel and Ori, ages 10 and eight.
"They both made it very clear that despite my [ministerial] appointment, they want a little brother. Tahel even looked into how old I could be and still give birth, and told me not to be selfish and have another child by age 45. She negotiates with me daily. Ori has joined the lobby, too.
"I need to be a better mother, too. Spend more time with them, without a smartphone, spend real quality time with them. I'm bad at that, I'm always on my phone. I have the privilege of having a husband who is a strong father and gives our lives balance. He loves his privacy and the publicity is hard for him, but between us, he's the real hero," she says.
Tamano-Shata holds a law degree from Ono Academic College and an MA in public policy from Tel Aviv University. She has worked as a legal correspondent for Israel Television and served as a board member of the Society of Authors, Composers, and Music Publishers in Israel. She started out in public service at age 18, when she worked with Ethiopian youth at risk. She served in the IDF Home Front Command as a sergeant in the operations room.
After her army service, she became an activist on behalf of women's empowerment and against racism and discrimination. In 2015, she was one of the leaders of the Ethiopian protest movement. She has been awarded the Martin Luther King Jr. Award as well as the Social Friendship Award from the International Fellowship of Christians and Jews.
In 2013, when she was slotted in at No. 15 on the Yesh Atid Knesset list, Tamano-Shata became the first Ethiopian Israeli woman to serve in the Knesset. When Yesh Atid joined the coalition, she was appointed deputy Knesset speaker. That same year, she established a Knesset lobby to battle violence against women and served as chairwoman of the Knesset lobby for the mentally ill.
She was also active on the Special Committee for the Rights of the Child and fought for children's issues as well as on behalf of at-risk youth. She helped pass a law to protect children from teachers and teaching staff accused of sexual abuse and or violence.
In 2014 she visited Ofek Prison and discovered that 40% of the minors imprisoned there came from the Ethiopian sector. She highlighted the issue for public discussion, which brought that number down to 7%. In 2015, she spearheaded the government decision to establish the Palmor Commission to counter racism against Ethiopian Israelis. One of her major achievements was securing a change in blood donation rules that discriminated against Israelis born in Ethiopia.
Last month, she was the keynote speaker at the annual ceremony in Mount Herzl honoring the memories of the thousands of victims of Operation Moses.
"We were 13 siblings. Seven of us are left. I had sisters whose names I don't know. They aren't mentioned at home, because it's very hard for my parents, and we respect them. Grief is handled mostly through thunderous silence. I can understand that, but I also understand that our generation must commemorate the dead.
Even now, it is obvious that Tamano-Shata's aliyah story will influence her work as the Aliyah and Integration minister.
"Only someone who has made aliyah can understand what it means to be a new immigrant. What it means to feel excited about every new step in this country, hearing Hebrew for the first time and every new word [they learn]. Also, what it means to experience racism personally.
"I feel that I've arrived at places that are definitely privileged -- being a lawyer, a board member, a member of the media. After the road I took, I can understand the heterogeneity of Israeli society and connect to people."
Q: Would you have been willing to take a different portfolio?
"If I hadn't been offered the Aliyah and Integration portfolio, I would have asked for welfare. I wouldn't have taken a portfolio that didn't suit me."
Q: How well do you think Ethiopian immigrants have integrated into Israeli society?
"I don't like that terminology, that there's one side who needs to integrate. Both sides need to be open. Israeli society is varied, and the issue of accepting others should be a top priority in the school system from a young age.
"Different skin color has led to some tough challenges of racism and discrimination, which I've fought against my entire life. We've come far in terms of confronting racism, but I can't say that the battle is nearing an end. The state doesn't treat the Ethiopian population like it did in 2015, when the first rioting broke out and more attention was paid to that sector. I intend to take action to keep the government collectively responsible when it comes to discrimination."
Q: The public mostly remembers the violent images from the protests -- cars being burned, police being attacked.
"Unfortunately, violence in these protests is almost unavoidable. When people have their backs against the wall, and certainly when we're talking about young people, many of whom were beaten at home, violence takes over and blows up. I remember tearing up in Rabin Square in 2015. It was civil war.
"My battles were fought from a place of faith in the Jewish people, not out of hatred, but out of love. But when an entire generation is screaming its heart out and thousands are calling for change, they demand to be heard. Kids in the Ethiopian community need to feel equal, not go out and protest. It's heartbreaking that 13, 14-year-old kids are demonstrating."
Q: You don't condemn the violence at the protests?
"I'm against violence of any kind. In [2015] there was serious violence from all sides, both the police and the protesters. It's a sensitive point for me. Unfortunately, the police were ready for war, and that was the atmosphere. The police came in with horses and tear gas, and that fired up the protesters in very little time.
"Former Public Security Minister Gilad Erdan made a very wise decision about the protest in Rabin Square in 2018 – he sent in as few forces as possible. The police were deployed on side streets, and a demonstration by 20,000 was held completely peacefully. I called him and thanked him for the decision, which only showed that … when you treat the Ethiopian community with acceptance, things look different."
Q: There is more violence against women among Ethiopians than the population at large. How do we address that issue?
"Violence against women has nothing to do with status or ethnicity or finances, it is present in all sectors. There are some sectors where it needs to be addressed more. Recently, there have been more men, including from the Ethiopian community, who are taking a stand against violence against women and joining virtual protests. But we have a long way to go."
Q: What have you accomplished since you started your new job?
"I started during a [record] heatwave, and you know what bothered me the most? That there is no air conditioning in immigrant absorption centers. That's the first thing I took care of: I added fans and air conditioning units. When it comes to coronavirus, the ministry oversees 74 housing facilities for new immigrant residents age 80 and over, 13,000 people who need to be taken care of. I'm increasing my supervision over these facilities.
"I also asked the cabinet to approve regulations that would make it possible to open Hebrew classes in accordance with 'purple tag' restrictions. The classes can't be shut down because of coronavirus. We need to open them right away, under the [Health Ministry] guidelines.
"I started the job the same week as 111 people made aliyah from the Ukraine, despite coronavirus. And after this interview I'm going to welcome 119 from Ethiopia."
Q: What will you see as success?
"First of all, more aliyah. I want as many Jews as possible to want to come home, to Israel. [But] it's not enough to love aliyah, you need to love the olim. It's not enough to fly them here. We need to make sure they feel at home from the very start."
