Had life been a romantic comedy, we would meet our other half by accidentally bumping into him or her in the street – think meet cute – lock eyes and fall in love at first sight. However, in reality, such an endeavor usually requires the help of friends, family, coworkers, and yes, even matchmakers, who although remain popular in observant communities, have mostly been replaced in the 21st century by dating apps.
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According to Jewish tradition, whoever makes even just one match has ensured himself a place in heaven. In honor of Valentine's Day, Israel Hayom took a walk down memory lane to revisit the stories of Israel's most well-known and seasoned matchmakers.
Some believe that God himself was history's very first matchmaker – with Adam and Eve – however, it gained popularity in the 19th century, with Yiddish- and Hebrew-language ads published in newspapers by those looking for love in Israel and the Diaspora.
The world of matchmaking was transformed in Israel by Yosef Lieber, who ran a matchmaking service in Tel Aviv. He was born in 1901 in Poland, immigrated to pre-State Israel in 1929, having worked as a sailor for a decade before switching fields.
"Lieber, who was a handsome and tall man, with blue eyes, fair skin, and brown eyes, was also a marketing genius," said Orit Yaal, a lecturer on gender history at the Kinneret Academic College and a Bar-Ilan University graduate, whose doctorate covered gender relations in Israel during the British mandate.
"Lieber realized that there was a vacuum in the dating field and used to hang out in public places in Tel Aviv, cafes or the beach, and simply hand passersby notes with his contact information. That is how in 1932 he met [journalist] Alexander Zauber, a meeting that would transform matchmaking in Israel forever."
Zauber, who immigrated in the early 1930s, was a journalist unlike any Israel had seen before. In 1933, he founded the Iton Meyuchad daily (Hebrew for "special newspaper") that stood out for its sensational articles, had no political affiliation, and covered crime and the personal lives of well-known personalities and scandals in Tel-Aviv at the time.
The newspaper ceased publication in 1952 when Zauber joined the editorial staff of Yedioth Aharonot and established its "7 Yamim" (Hebrew for "seven days") supplement.
In addition, the front pages displayed flashy headlines, such as "Gangsters in Tel Aviv", "From the Secrets of the House on Bialik Street", "The Double Life of the Gentleman-Thief", "The Dictator Stalin – a Landlord in Tel Aviv."
Iton Meyuchad was considered yellow journalism and only sold a handful of copies. They were, however, read by many in secret.
Zauber later described meeting Lieber as follows, "At the beach, a tall man approached me and handed me a note. I opened it and read, 'A modern matchmaker, Yosef Lieber, mediates among the best local circles, a rich selection of men and beautiful women, with and without dowries, of all kinds and avenues. Serious inquiries only.'
"I laughed and shoved the note into my pocket. The matchmaker saw this from a distance, immediately appeared next to me, and started to work me. 'Sir, you must surely be looking for a beautiful young woman, I have a sweet and rich girl in mind for you, who has finished school and cooks well, a Russian native, speaks French and English. Or perhaps a 23-year-old blonde, with a dowry – an orchard and a house – from the family."
Although Zauber was already married at the time, he saw an economic opportunity and in 1933 began working with Lieber by designating a significant portion of Iton Meyuchad to matchmaking ads.
"Lieber's clients would post on the large 'Matchmaking Corner' page," Yaal said. "Everyone posted there – men, women, of all ages and walks of life."
Q: How did Lieber get clients?
"From all over," she continued. "In the early 1920s, and especially after the Holocaust, Israel was full of young people, many of whom had arrived alone. And I mean, a 'cloud of hormones' was hovering above at the time. Everyone was looking for a match for romantic, physical, economic, or social reasons.
"Of course, the majority were looking to get married, because relationships out of wedlock were frowned upon. Lieber called himself a 'modern matchmaker' and opened a small run-down office in Tel Aviv, which he called 'Connecting Lives: A Modern Matchmaing Office.' With time, he also branched out to Jerusalem and Haifa. He used to also publish in the paper where he could be found and at what times."
Q: What did the matchmaking ads look like?
"People 'sold' themselves in the ads that had a limited amount of characters, and Zauber and Lieber made each ad attractive. For example, in 1942, one ad was given the title '18-year-old beauty looking to get married,' with the description continuing, 'to an intelligent, nice, and financially stable man up to 35 years of age. Born in Israel. A beautiful brunette. Educated, intelligent, from a well-to-do family.'
"The ads described the financial situation of the advertiser and what kind of person they wanted to be matched with. Women also stressed their appearance and used to specify the amount of money or property their dowry included.
"Men would mention their profession and how much they earned every month. At the end of each ad, there was a code consisting of a few letters and numbers, based on which one could contact and locate the advertiser.
"One could clearly see a pattern in the ads: the woman brings the initial finances and the man brings the ability to earn a continued living. Both sides were looking for something mutual, balanced, and fair. The ads reflected a fairly equal approach to men and women, although society was more chauvinistic at the time."
Such equality was also reflected in Lieber's matchmaking business as his wife Bronia, whom he later divorced, aided him in everything.
"Lieber would interview those who turned to him and had large binders in which he wrote down every detail about them, along with a list of their requirements," Yaal continued. "This is how he got a huge database. He had binders for men and women, and each client received a code that consisted of special numbers and letters, all neat and filed.
"Although Lieber was an excellent marketer, the business was not the same without Bronia, who was thought to be the one to possess a good eye for matchmaking. Male and female clients would sit in separate rooms and Bronia would go from room to room saying, 'Come with me, come with me.'
"They had another matchmaker, who would accompany the potential couple to the corner of the street, where they stood and spoke. If successful, the couple would often get married."
Q: How much did such a service cost?
"Clients were only required to pay Lieber if the match ended in marriage. If the match was unsuccessful, there was no payment. By the way, there were cases when the matched couple tried to get out of paying, so much so that matters were taken to court."
According to Yaal, the modern and secular society in Israel was going through fascinating changes at the time, which were reflected very well in the ads. From the 1940s, for example, the financial aspect almost completely disappeared from their wording and was replaced with descriptions of education and external physical attributes.
"It happened because more people came to Israel without property or money, and so the matter of dowry disappeared and advertisers tried to 'sell' themselves in other ways. If in the 1930s, the ads would say something along the lines of 'Woman with 200-lira dowry looking for a man with a 15-lira monthly income,' then by the 1940s, and even more so after the Holocaust, there were no more rich parents who would provide the money, and mentions of dowry decreased. Men would still mention their profession and education, but would not mention numbers."
Many followed in Lieber's footsteps and became matchmakers, and he even went on to establish an organization of Israeli matchmakers under his leadership, although the group did not significantly grow. Lieber continued to work as a matchmaker in the first few decades after the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948, and even got to match the children of couples he had matched years before. He passed away in 1975.
The matchmaking industry was then taken over by Helena Amram, who was known as "the national matchmaker," and is said to have made over 10,000 matches.
Amram was born in 1949 in Haifa and began to make matches as a hobby in the late 1960s when she founded matches for several of her friends whose husbands had died in the 1967 Six-Day War.
She quickly turned matchmaking into a profession, opened a three-branch agency, and launched a wide-ranging campaign with ads in major newspapers. She was lauded as the "High Priestess" of the matchmaking industry, the one who would bring salvation to all singles.
"It was the first time a matchmaking agency advertised its services in the style of a commercial company and presented matchmaking as a legitimate business," Professor Oz Almog, a sociologist and historian at Haifa University, who studied the culture of this period, said.
"After Amram entered this field, the use of such terms as 'available,' rather than 'single' took root, and 'dating' rather than 'matchmaking.' Helena herself was careful not to call her business a matchmaking agency, but an office for relationship coordination and guidance."
Amram's methods were also considered novel for the industry. She tried to develop a more systematic approach to filtering potential matches, which included, among other things, filling out a life story questionnaire and the description of one's ideal match.
These also included conversations with a psychologist or social worker, as well as the examination of one's handwriting by a graphologist. Information provided by clients was checked by an investigative office, with approved candidates receiving a booklet from which they could choose the most suitable partner.
"Helena also pioneered the 'conquering the target strategy,' as part of which the clients prepared thoroughly for each date, such as giving careful consideration to its location, refraining from talking too much about oneself on the first date, or mentioning drawbacks," Almog said.
Q: It seems that Amram mostly worked with women.
"Her recommendations were mostly targeted to women. Contrary to modern views, Helena was of the opinion that women needed to 'bolster men's ego' and give up their own. Maybe because she did not believe in feminism or perhaps, like many others, she saw men as 'grown children who needed constant care.'"
Following criminal allegations, Amram moved to the United States, where she also built a successful matchmaking empire. However, she returned to Israel later, after she was accused of fraud in the US. In Israel, she continued to work in the matchmaking industry. She died in 2020, at the age of 71, due to a series of illnesses.
In 1983, broadcast media joined the matchmaking business, when Kol Yisrael radio network ran a special program in the studio by hosting guests who were looking for a partner. They spoke about themselves, their lives and spoke to listeners who wanted to connect on the phone. In the three years the program ran, it hosted 150 individuals and led to eight weddings.
About a decade later, Army Radio host Avri Gilad, and later Kobi Meidan, launched a similar program – although they preferred not to call it matchmaking – which in its first year alone resulted in a whopping seven marriages.
According to Gilad, they were contacted by men and women who were looking for "various types of relationships, from flings to marriages." One caller once said she was "beautiful, pretty, and looking for as many one-night stands as possible." She was afterward contacted no less than 4,000 times, Gilad said.
With the success of radio stations in matchmaking, television networks also became interested.
In 1996, Channel 2 launched Blind Date hosted by Rivka Michaeli, in which a male participant had to choose out of three female candidates, or vice versa, without seeing them.
The program was a success in terms of ratings, however, in the four years it ran, only one couple matched on the show ended up walking down the aisle, perhaps because "most participants just wanted media exposure," Almog said.
In the years to come, dating shows emerged on Israeli television by the many: the humorous "Double Date" hosted by Dana Modan and Roi Levi in 2002, "Khi Oti Sharon" in 2003, "Onat HaHatunot" in 2009, "HaRavak" – the Israeli version of "The Bachelor" – in 2010, and most recently, "Married at First Sight," the Israeli adaptation of the Danish reality show, in which – as the title reflects – two contestants marry having never met each other before.
And yet, despite the great technological progress of recent decades – and perhaps precisely because of it – marriages have become less frequent. Recent Central Bureau of Statistics data shows that the number of single Jewish men aged 25-29 jumped from 28% to 63% from the late 1970s until 2019.
Among women of the same age, the number went from 13% to 48%. Similar statistics were also reported in older age categories. For example, the number of single Jewish men aged 45-49 went from 3% to 13%, and women from 2% to 11%.
In 2021, the age of online dating, applications have unfortunately contributed to a lot of heartbreak, with the most well-known recent example being "The Tinder Swindler."
Almog's Generation Y: Generation Snowflake?, which he co-wrote with his wife Tamar, describes modern-day relationships in general, and dating apps in particular.
"Apps like Tinder create a smorgasbord of thrills and reinforce FOMO. In addition, the fact that one is no longer required to put in too much effort into finding a partner creates a kind of laziness and narcissism that turns the relationship into a utilitarian one. The sanctity that had previously been attributed to romantic relationships is gone.
And yet, "dating apps will, in my opinion, grow into something good in the future. There are already companies out there that create for us a personal profile of tastes, preferences, worldviews and so on, it will expand with the development of computer technology.
"The search will be based on different needs and degrees of depth, which will allow for the creation of profound common denominators, shorten dating processes and expand the range of possibilities. This will, of course, also have implications on the demographic, including mixed marriages. It will challenge conventions."
Meanwhile, relationship coach Roni Sheinkman, 29, is not waiting for such technological progress and follows in the footsteps of Lieber and Amram.
Through her successful "Roni's Singles" platform she tries to find the delicate balance between impersonal apps and the world of more traditional face-to-face dating.
"I've been writing about relationships since I was 14, and at some point, I switched to Instagram and Facebook," Sheinkman, who is married and has a one-year-old son, told Israel Hayom. "Three and a half years ago, I began to upload stories about my single [male] friends and encouraged [female] followers to contact them, meaning not to sit around and wait for Prince Charming to show up on his horse, but to make their dreams a reality. I've always done everything in the spirit of feminism and female empowerment.
"So many girls contacted me that I simply ran out of single [male] friends because they all found partners. Next, I told the girls to recommend their own [male] friends and that is how my Instagram page turned into a dating board. In 2020, I was featured in a newspaper, which led to a crazy amount of referrals.
"That is when I launched a dating Instagram page, with men and women, but it's different from a dating app because it included a thorough screening process. For example, men have to provide a reference, from a friend or a colleague, a reliable source.
"These are meant to protect the women and show that we are responsible, because, unfortunately, there have been cases of violence and harm by men.
"We now have about 25,000 singles, and the turnover is, of course, massive. We all follow the same rules. For example, to respond to every message, and when the answer is no, to turn someone down respectfully. We have a personal relationship with everyone, I myself speak with each and every one."
Q: How exactly does the page work?
"A man or woman goes on the page, receives a message from others, and from there, they continue themselves. There are photos, personal details, a video, and a one-sentence description.'"
Sheinkman also holds in-demand singles events which take place two-three times a month.
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"In the coronavirus, we had a one-year break, because in March 2020 we had a large Purim party and one of the barmen infected all those present," she said. "Half a year ago, we said that life is returning to normal, so we will be returning too.
"Prior registration is required at every event and is usually attended by 200 people. We begin with a general introduction and mingling, then group activities and move on to short 5-7 minute dates, up to six dates for each participant.
"Leaving social media and the dating apps behind and seeing the faces of the people in a fun and pleasant way works. Bottom line, we are seeing a lot of success. It is definitely more personal than dating apps, in which we swap right or left without sitting and talking to the person."
Q: So in your case, there is no possibility for a Tinder Swindler-like scenario?
"We have a mother and a father. By us, a Tinder Swindler wouldn't have been able to reach even one girl. We supervise and whoever misbehaves, a man or a woman, is warned and removed."
According to Sheinkman, she has been invited to 140 weddings that came about due to her work "and five babies have already been born to couples that met by us. We also have thousands of couples who have dated for over three months. As a dating coach, I work with couples throughout the entire process, and the problems that arise I also help them deal with. I work 24-7, every hour, every day."
