The bulbul is ours - Haaretz

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Wed., December 19, 2007 Tevet 10, 5768

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Last update - 01:23 19/12/2007

The bulbul is ours

By Avirama Golan

Tags: Bulbul, National Bird

Israeli society in the coming days will be pushed to decide what will become the national bird. Finally, we must address a truly significant question. But our indecision is hard to comprehend: Of the 10 contestants who made it to the final round, it is clear which is the winning bird, the one who represents Israeliness in all its glory.

Certainly not the dove. The sanctimonious fowl that waited in false modesty until the raven failed in its mission, and only then consented to fly away to return holding the olive branch, has become an overly festive symbol. The term that it represents is exalted and vague, and waning from awareness.

Neither can the vulture be our bird. It is on the endangered list, and exceeds our proportions to the extent that it is proud and impressive. We can continue to list all 10, including the hoopoe (did anyone seriously consider choosing that twittering fop?), and also ponder the ranking of the raven, the most common bird of all, which was dismissed from the list - but we will forgive the committee that expelled him. After all, that historically crafty character resembles no one.

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We would be wise to get right to the heart of the matter, just as the chosen bird always does. The bulbul, of course. It suits us because of its name - stolen from the Arabic like humus and falafel, which became the "Israeli national dish" exported in our name - and because of its distribution: It is present everywhere in Israel. It flies in circles and wanders around, but remains local. And also because of the noise that it generates without interruption.

It's not just any noise. People in the know attest to the fact that the bulbul's noise and chirping is varied: from the wakeful morning song signaling that the hour to rise and pay attention to the bird is at hand, to the heated quarreling of two bulbuls who were closest friends only a moment ago.

An argument like that can develop into a real altercation, including plucking of feathers and life-threatening thrashing that closely resembles two grumbling drivers vying for the same parking place. And neither of these is similar to the boisterous hello of a bulbul that runs into a friend, "What's up, bro?"

And if that is not enough, the bulbul, unlike any other bird, does not limit itself to chirping and dancing as a form of communication. In other words, a handshake and polite greeting is not its style. Two bulbuls that meet are so overcome by affection that they trample each other's heads, touch, taunt each other, and jump around as if they ate from the same mess kit for years. In general, the bulbul's posse comes before everything. In veteran couples they settle on branches of a loquat tree. Representatives of each sex or a pair of same-sexed bulbuls are typically monogamous, but the important thing is that the gang is all there and that they are never alone.

All this happens in a din, in clans, and in endless movement and (absolutely justified) preparation for the arrival of the enemy - usually the ravens - that threaten to attack their eggs and their chicks. Within these clans, they also build their homes: Messy, muddled nests, which are seemingly decorated but marred by horrifying lack of taste. And all the while they sing, because that is what their name means: songbird.

Those who object to the choice of the bulbul because of the sexual innuendos associated with its name (slang for "penis" in Hebrew) are missing the main point. That folksy usage of the unpretentious bird's name to describe the male genital organ proves the extent to which the bird is loved by the masses. This is not a crude or insulting expletive, but a childish term of affection that illustrates how Israelis relate to themselves: oversized, pampered infants forever.

There is no doubt that the bulbul is ours: loud, quick to anger, lavishing gregarious affection, and in love with his friends. He makes noise as he brags to his pals about his exploits, and calls himself affectionate names. He doesn't stop singing even as he is joyfully robbing fruit from others in true bulbul style.

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1.	what an ugly bird	02:58	\|	huh?	19/12/07

2.	Los Bilbilicos	05:44	\|	David Israel	19/12/07

3.	bulbul	08:51	\|	nir	19/12/07

4.	Joyful Noise	09:45	\|	Rk	19/12/07

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