Give them books

Finance Minister Yuval Steinitz's objection to a bill allowing Arabic language books to be imported, sponsored by MKs Yuli Tamir (Labor), Zeev Bielski (Kadima) and Yariv Levin (Likud), is a ridiculous show of force. By using a British Mandate era ordinance from 1939, which bans the import of books from "enemy states," Steinitz is showing Israeli Arabs that not only can they not choose where they can live or the size of the budget they will be allocated, they also cannot decide what they can read.

The bill's sponsors cite the need to develop research and higher education, and the right of every person to read and purchase books in their own language in explaining their support for importing books from Arab countries. The need for such a law arose a few months ago when the state accused Salah Abassi, a publisher from Haifa, of trading with enemy nations and refused to allow him to continue importing "Harry Potter," "Pinocchio" and "Peter Pan" from Syria and Lebanon. The very same government, by the way, was very proud that Abassi had succeeded in distributing Hebrew literature translated into Arabic in Saudi Arabia, Lebanon and Bahrain.

It is ludicrous that Steinitz objects to importing these books. He obviously knows that anyone can order Syrian and Lebanese best sellers over the Internet, or buy them in the mall in Ramallah. More serious at hand is the liberty the finance minister and his colleagues are taking in restricting the freedom of reading for Arab children in Israel.

Arabic children's literature in the region was dealt a serious blow in 1948 - when many educators and writers left or were expelled, and the education system was rebuilt under the supervision of the military administration. Jaffa's flourishing period of creativity in the mid-1940s was halted, and only in the 1960s were children's books in Arabic published again, as well as copies of old books from the '30s and '50s.

The "open bridges" policy since 1967 brought a change. High-quality children's books reached Arab book stores through the border crossings, and children were exposed to stories from Egypt, Jordan and Iraq. Educators nonetheless felt a need for local works, which would describe the day-to-day reality for children in their own language.

Journalist and author Salam Jubran wrote that there is a need to write children's literature. He was the first among the Arab intelligentsia who thought it was not enough to deal with issues of politics and identity. In the early 1980s, Abd al-Latif Nassar, a lecturer at Hebrew University, began to publish a series of books on the lives on Arab children in Israel.

Since then there has been great progress. The center for children's literature at the Arab College For Education in Haifa holds writing seminars. The Israel Center for Libraries has been nurturing the translation of children's books since the mid-'90s and recently published dozens of books for toddlers in Nazareth - including a number of well-known works translated from Hebrew, and a good-sized list of books in Arabic from local authors. Beit Berl College is home to the Kamil Kilani Center for Arabic Children's Literature, named after the writer who died in 1954 and left behind dozens of series of classic literature he adapted for children, including Shakespeare's plays and other masterpieces.

But publishing children's books in Arabic in Israel is not profitable and very few are willing to invest in it. The Arabic book industry in Israel is slipping. Once the communist party distributed books for free. Today Saudi Prince Al-Waleed bin Talal, who controls most of the Arabic television channels, provides cheap, available entertainment. Educators and parents are desperate for activities that expose children to books and encourage them to read.

This bill could have been a wonderful opportunity for Israel. Without much effort, and for not a lot of money, both the Culture and Sports Ministry and the Education Ministry could have offered encouragement to authors, illustrators, publishers and editors - and reaped the benefits of nurturing Arab culture in Israel from a young age. In practice, the government is giving with a closed fist. Now it also wants to censor.

Someone needs to tell Steinitz about Palestinian musician Marcel Khalife. Israel banned sales of his song "Asfoor" ("bird" in Arabic), which was recorded in Lebanon. A relatively small store in Nazareth made tens of thousands of copies of the banned recording and the song turned into a symbol sung enthusiastically at every event. Anyone who thinks it's possible to stop art at the border and expel it, seems to have missed an important lesson in national history.