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Commemoration and Narrative
In Israel, as elsewhere, commemoration is a vital tool for creating and preserving a historical narrative.
It is part of a grand story told to future generations—a story necessary to resurrect a nation that appeared buried in the depths of history for two millennia.
This is the story of the Jewish people in recent generations, and it is our story here, told in three chapters.
Dr. Theodor (Binyamin Ze’ev) Herzl understood this well, contributing both his name and his image to the cause. Herzl, whom we discussed in the first chapter of this series, was a charismatic leader, a jurist, and also a journalist and author. He grasped the value of the written word and the visual image, and their significance in historical legacy. This is likely why he dedicated his time to photographers who co-staged him in just the right pose—one that would immortalize him within the heritage he was laboring to create.
He was right. These images have accompanied the Zionist story for over 120 years.
Those who followed him continued the story, adding a fitting backdrop:
another settlement, another building, another site, another street. Each received a name that suited the emerging narrative.
Every name was etched onto signs, seen by passersby and residents alike. Anyone living at an address named after a historical figure repeated that name every time they provided their address or received mail.
In this way, street-level commemoration becomes a form of subtle indoctrination, fixing names in the collective consciousness and preserving the narrative.

For many years, names were determined by committees belonging to the ruling hegemony of the pre-state Jewish community—first under British Mandate rule, and later during the independent state’s first decades.
This was a secular-Zionist hegemony of European origin (Ashkenazim), which determined the figures worthy of appearing on street signs and institutions—those who would be part of the complex historical saga of a nation’s rebirth in its land.
These architects of the secular-Zionist path were generous toward their partners—the minority of Mizrahi Jews (from Asia and North Africa) and the Religious-Zionist sector. They honored historical figures such as Rav Kook, Rav Uziel, the "Chafetz Chaim," Maimonides, Yehuda Halevi, Solomon ibn Gabirol, Sir Moses Montefiore, Don Isaac Abarbanel, and others.
However, the hegemony pushed the leaders of the Zionist Right—its great rival—to the margins.
In their lifetimes, members of the Right were excluded from public positions in pre-state institutions and later in the founding of the state. They were not involved in establishing settlements, and their part in Israel’s official history was minimized. Consequently, after this organized exclusion, there was no one left to commemorate. The camp was pushed into unrealistic territory, receiving only "crumbs" of commemoration: a few streets named after right-wing underground organizations (Etzel and Lehi), streets named after the "Olei HaGardom," and activists like David Raziel.
Ze’ev Jabotinsky, whom we discussed in the previous chapter, was the camp's ultimate commemorated figure for over three decades—the only one present on Israel's city streets.
In 1977, a political upheaval took place: the right-wing parties won the elections.
Since then and up to the present day (2025), they have almost always led the State of Israel. Once they took the reins of power, their leaders could act to place their people in the rows closer to the stage of history. The most available figure was, again, Jabotinsky. Immediately following the elections, his name was commemorated in a new settlement, Givat Ze’ev, and later in the Pisgat Ze’ev neighborhood in Jerusalem, now one of the city's largest.

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Street signs named after right-wing underground heroes: "Olei HaGardom" and Avraham Stern, leader of the Lehi

The 'Herut' newspaper (Feb 28, 1961) informing readers of the decision to name Jerusalem streets after heroes of the Right
By the late 20th century, the situation was clear:
both Herzl and Jabotinsky received extensive commemoration, largely due to their early deaths at an opportune time—the period when the Jewish community was establishing its core infrastructure. They were the most "available" for commemoration—perhaps even the most obvious, even cliché.
Alongside them were figures who led the community or supported it financially. Judging by the recurring names, the pool was quite limited: Haim Arlosoroff, Eliezer Ben-Yehuda, H.N. Bialik, Yitzhak Ben-Zvi, Rothschild, David Wolffsohn, Yehuda Halevi, Ibn Ezra, and others.
In the 21st century, the "National Commemoration Pantheon" is taking on new hues, including figures who were not born in Europe and held deeply religious worldviews.
The most prominent is Rav Ovadia Yosef, whose name appeared on street signs immediately following his passing. Similarly, figures like Rav Moshe Nissim and Rav Abuhatzeira (the Baba Sali) have joined the ranks.

Menachem Begin Street at the corner of Rav Ovadia Yosef Street
Seventy-five years after the state's founding, right-wing leaders are using their power to influence the "National Memory Pantheon"—Menachem Begin, with 42 streets and a major highway, as well as Uri Zvi Greenberg, Rehavam Ze'evi (Gandhi), Yitzhak Shamir, and Ariel Sharon.
The right-wing camp remains loyal to the Zionist legacy, but within the political alliance forged with the religious sectors, that loyalty has loosened. The Haredi (Ultra-Orthodox) sector has gained power and self-confidence, allowing it to strengthen a narrative different from the long-standing Israeli ethos, commemorating figures that express "anti-Zionism"—as in the case of Bnei Brak (The next chapter).
The old hegemony has not been entirely pushed aside—names like Shimon Peres, Yitzhak Rabin, or Yitzhak Navon remain. But these do not offer a serious counterweight to the new names heralding a new era.
The future historical story of Israel’s citizens will be a colorful mosaic, more diverse than ever.
Names will rise and names will disappear, and even Herzl might find himself pushed aside. For the deciding hegemony reflects demographics and cultural trends that are changing the nation's human landscape—all of which find expression in the struggle over the historical narrative.
How is a narrative contested?
When does commemoration expire?
And how can one "move" Herzl?
You can learn about this through the processes that the city of Bnei Brak underwent, by clicking the link to the next chapter:
The Intersection of Herzl and Jabotinsky: Commemoration and Heritage on Israel's Streets—A Three-Part Series:

