III

Over a hundred years have passed since the birth of modern Jewish nationalism. At the beginning of the twenty-first century the world is, once again, in the throes of a socioeconomic revolution that is changing modern society in ways no less radical than the industrial revolution of the nineteenth century.¹⁴ And Zionism’s foundational ethos, which was outmoded to begin with and has remained staunchly Apollonian ever since, is now becoming all but obsolete.

At the crux of these ground-breaking developments is the information technology revolution, which has reshaped the global economy through a series of sweeping structural changes. Local financial systems have been integrated into a borderless, global network that allows for an ever quicker flow of capital. Corporations, which can now coordinate production across continents, have become thoroughly multinational. Most importantly, new technologies have given rise to the so-called creative sector, which is gradually dominating developed economies. This sector consists of a broad range of experts who assume responsibility for the creative—rather than the mechanical—aspects of their field, most noticeably in academia, higher management, the media, the liberal professions, and the rapidly growing high-tech and biotech industries.

The creative sector has, in turn, generated a new social phenomenon, labeled by economist Richard Florida as the “creative class.”¹⁵ This class, says Florida, comprises over 30 percent of highly developed economies and must therefore be recognized as an independent division of the economy, along with agriculture, manufacturing, and services. Members of the creative class in all countries bear a number of common characteristics: They are typically liberal in temperament and require tolerance from the cities in which they live and the companies in which they work; they have high standards of all they consume, from food to culture, and expect a high quality of life for themselves and their families; they insist on first-rate education for their children; and they are highly mobile, gravitating toward the places best suited to their needs.

Because of the vital importance of the creative class to local economy, countries and cities eagerly compete for these gifted individuals, offering them the lifestyle and opportunities they desire. Indeed, according to Florida’s findings, there is a high correlation between the extent of a country’s creative activity and its overall economic performance (in fact, one of the major problems of Arab countries is that they have so far not been able to create the liberal, tolerant atmosphere that is essential for cultivating creative economies).¹⁶

The relationship between the creative class and the countries and cities that bid for its services is explained by legal theorist Philip Bobbitt’s concept of the “market-state.”¹⁷ Bobbitt argues that much of the legitimacy accorded to the modern nation-state was a result of the material well-being it guaranteed its citizens. The relationship between state and citizen was therefore somewhat paternal, encouraging the latter’s strong sense of loyalty and patriotism.

All this has changed dramatically over the past few decades. The emergence of modern communication technologies has considerably diminished the monopoly of national cultures and languages. Television enables the dissemination of foreign cultural production—primarily from the United States—into almost every home in the world. English has become the lingua franca of the financial and academic communities, thereby creating elite groups that are no longer defined by a particular national identity.¹⁸

The modern market-state, claims Bobbitt, has come to resemble a modern corporation. It is decentralized, and outsources whatever services can be provided more effectively by other organizations, from education to utilities and security. Its citizens see themselves as clients and expect good value for their money. Thus, while the market-state is primarily concerned with the provision of security, it must offer infrastructure, education, and management services as well. One of the central institutions of the modern nation-state, old-age pensions, is being gradually privatized not only in the United States but also in the European Union—once the main proponent of welfare policy.

Modern market-states, like corporations, can no longer conduct themselves as monopolies; the more capable their citizenry, the more mobile it is, and it tends to move to wherever the best opportunities lie. Hence, the central source of legitimacy for the market-state, says Bobbitt, is the “maximization of opportunities” for its clients, whether citizens or foreign workers.¹⁹

In sum, as the nation-state has given way to the market-state, the Apollonian worldview has been completely eclipsed by the prevailing Mercurian culture. This is the reality with which the Jewish state, founded on a distinctively Apollonian vision, must contend.

IV

While it is still Apollonian in ideology, in practice, Israel is very much Mercurian. It is, de facto, a market-state, and it has been so for quite some time. In their recent book Start-Up Nation: The Story of Israel’s Economic Miracle, Dan Senor and Saul Singer document Israel’s achievements on the knowledge-intensive technological front:

Technology companies and global investors are beating a path to Israel and finding unique combinations of audacity, creativity, and drive everywhere they look. Which may explain why, in addition to boasting the highest density of start-ups in the world (a total of 3,850 start-ups, one for every 1,844 Israelis), more Israeli companies are listed on the nasdaq exchange than all companies from the entire European continent….

In 2008, per capita venture capital investments in Israel were 2.5 times greater than in the United States, more than 30 times greater than in Europe, 80 times greater than in China, and 350 times greater than in India.²⁰

Yet perhaps the best evidence of Israel’s successful transformation into a market-state is the rapid expansion of the country’s creative class. Over the past few decades, Israel has produced an elite cadre of well-trained, highly experienced professionals in a variety of fields: finance, marketing, technological R&D, and academic research. The global demand for these experts is enormous, and the opportunities open to them are vast.

Hence a large portion of Israel’s population has become highly mobile. Estimates vary, but it is approximated that as many as one million Israelis are currently living abroad, most of them in the United States. Israeli expatriates come from all fields and socioeconomic levels of society. Many young Israelis emigrate because they see more opportunities for themselves abroad; they work in all manner of unskilled labor, selling goods from carts in shopping malls to moving and taxi services. Far more disturbing from Israel’s point of view, however, is the emigration of a large number of highly qualified men and women—i.e., members of the creative class—in whose education the Jewish state has invested a great deal of resources and energy.

Israel’s brain drain has been widely discussed and rigorously researched. According to economist Dan Ben-David, it is an unparalleled phenomenon in the Western world. Twenty-five percent of all researchers trained in Israel teach at foreign universities, many of them at top-tier American schools.²¹ Most academics leave for a very simple reason: If they wish to do research in their field of interest, they need university funding and resources. While Israel produces a large number of PhDs, the number of tenure-track positions at Israeli universities has decreased in the last decade. Consequently, many gifted researchers, having completed post-doctoral training abroad, discover that they have no positions to which to return, and are forced to take whatever work they can find at foreign universities.

The academic brain drain is just one example of what has become a pervasive problem. Israel is fortunate to have a large pool of extremely talented people, and changes in the global economy over the past two decades have given many of them ample opportunity to express their genius. The majority of Israel’s creative class is highly motivated to contribute to the country’s economy—as long as it can do so in ways befitting its capabilities and education. While Israel justly prides itself on the intelligence and entrepreneurship of its citizenry, it must realize that, in the world of the market-state, it, too, has to compete for its citizens.

In the past Israel has tried to dissuade would-be expatriates through patriotically laden guilt. Jews who immigrated abroad were called yordim (“descenders”), a term with decidedly negative connotations. Underlying this rhetoric was the expectation that a sense of loyalty would lead those who had gone in search of greener pastures to eventually return home.

Unfortunately, such Apollonian rhetoric, with its moralizing overtones, has lost much of its potency. Israelis no longer feel inextricably bound to their homeland; all their patriotism and emotional attachment will not induce them to stay if greater prospects await them elsewhere. In the new Mercurian world in which we live, to expect anything different would be hopelessly naïve.