Contested beachscapes: planning and debating Tel Aviv's seashore in the 1930s

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Contested beachscapes: planning and debatingTel Aviv's seashore in the 1930s

MAOZ AZARYAHU and ARNON GOLAN

Urban History / Volume 34 / Issue 02 / August 2007, pp 278 - 295DOI: 10.1017/S0963926807004646, Published online: 20 June 2007

Link to this article: http://journals.cambridge.org/abstract_S0963926807004646

How to cite this article:MAOZ AZARYAHU and ARNON GOLAN (2007). Contested beachscapes:planning and debating Tel Aviv's seashore in the 1930s. Urban History, 34, pp278-295 doi:10.1017/S0963926807004646

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Urban History, 34, 2 (2007) C© 2007 Cambridge University Press Printed in the United Kingdomdoi:10.1017/S0963926807004646

Contested beachscapes: planningand debating Tel Aviv’s seashorein the 1930sM A O Z A Z A RYA H U and A R N O N GO L A NDepartment of Geography and Environmental Studies, University of Haifa, MountCarmel, Haifa 31905, Israel

abstract: This article examines how different visions of Tel Aviv as a seasidecity in the 1930s were articulated in terms of urban planning and local politics.It expands on the beach as a site of leisure, pleasure, health and recuperation. Itfurther elaborates on the demand to ‘improve the seashore’ in terms of architectureand urban development. At the centre of the discussion is the evaluation of theGrunblatt scheme and the public debate on the benefits and disadvantages of theambitious project.

In early summer of 1937 Tel Aviv was hotly debating the pros and consof a major development project along its seashore. If implemented, theproject was to change radically the architecture of the seashore in particularand the character of the city in general. As a popular site of leisure andrecreation, already in the 1920s Tel Aviv’s beach had become an importantaspect of the city; the beach and the opportunities it offered enhanced theimage of Tel Aviv as a fun-loving, pleasure-seeking city. The idea to turnthe seashore into a Riviera and to transform Tel Aviv into a fully fledgedseaside city captured the imagination of the city’s leaders and promoters.However, as became apparent, the official plan for the seashore that themunicipality promoted – commonly known as the Grunblatt scheme – alsomeant that the beach should be sacrificed for the sake of ‘improvement’and ‘development’.

The controversy over the Grunblatt scheme transformed Tel Aviv’sseashore into a contested place. Contested places invoke mutuallyexclusive interpretations of the landscape or rival notions about socialand cultural priorities associated with a specific location. On one level, thecontroversy revolved around issues of land-use and urban development.On another it was about different versions of Tel Aviv as a seasidecity. The arguments for and against the project represented the differentperspectives and interests of specific actors – local politicians, municipalofficials, leaders of the community, ordinary people turned activists. Thesearguments represented different readings of the Grunblatt scheme and theimpact of its realization on the city. In regard to debating the Grunblatt

Planning and debating Tel Aviv’s seashore 279

scheme, the politics of the beach was about conflicts of interest, rivalvisions of Tel Aviv as a seaside city and competing urban priorities. Notless importantly, it was about civic participation in the decision-makingprocess.

This article examines how different visions of Tel Aviv as a seaside cityin the 1930s were articulated in terms of urban planning and local politics.1

The article expands on the beach as an aspect of the city in its capacity asa popular site of leisure and recreation, health and recuperation. It furtherelaborates on the demand to ‘improve the seashore’ in terms of architectureand urban development. At the centre of the discussion is the evaluation ofthe Grunblatt scheme that the municipality promoted in the 1930s and thepublic debate on the benefits and disadvantages of the ambitious project.

Focusing on the seashore, the study directs attention to an aspectof Tel Aviv’s history as a seaside city that hitherto has largely evadedacademic scrutiny. At the same time, Tel Aviv in the 1930s is a case-studyof the seaside resort as an urban genre that transcends local contextsand specific locations. Beyond the particular circumstances, Tel Aviv’scontested beachscapes of the 1930s demonstrate the extent to which thepolitics of the beach is also about rival visions of the seashore.

The beach: between enjoyment and conflict(s)

The growing academic interest in seaside resorts has yielded muchknowledge about the history of specific, mainly European towns. Thecase-studies of Brighton and Blackpool in England, Nice in southernFrance, San Sebastian in northern Spain or Eilat in Israel,2 demonstrate thatbeyond local particularities and place-specific distinctions, seaside resortsconjure images of frivolity and offer opportunities of fun, pleasureand leisure. As the history of specific seaside resorts makes clear, theprominence of the seaside resort in the cultural geography of holiday-making was closely related to how it offered an exit, albeit temporary,from the routines of everyday life. As a liminal space, it ‘representedliberation from the regime of normative practices and performance codesof mundane life because of its interstitial nature’.3 Permeated with the

1 On the cultural history of Tel Aviv’s beach see: M. Azaryahu, ‘The cultural history of theTel Aviv seafront 1918–1948’, Horizons in Geography, 53 (2001), 95–112 (Hebrew).

2 R. Shields, Places on the Margin. Alternative Geographies of Modernity (London, 1991), ch. 2;H. Meller, European Cities 1890–1930: History, Culture and the Built Environment (Chichester,2001), ch. 5; J.K. Walton, ‘Consuming the beach. Seaside resorts and cultures of tourism inEngland and Spain from the 1840s to the 1930s’, in S. Baranowski and E. Furlough (eds.),Being Elsewhere. Tourism, Consumer Culture and Identity in Modern Europe and North America(Ann Arbor, 2001); J.K. Walton, ‘Planning and seaside tourism: San Sebastian, 1863–1936’,Planning Perspectives, 17 (2002), 1–20; M. Azaryahu, ‘The beach at the end of the world. Eilatin Israeli popular culture’, Journal of Social and Cultural Geography, 6 (2005), 117–34.

3 Shields, Places on the Margin, 84.

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spirit of carnival, it established ‘an ephemeral regime of festive excess’.4

Combined, these two complementary aspects rendered the seaside resortspecial in the geography of modern holiday-making and in the history ofpopular culture and mass tourism.

As John K. Walton noted, the beach is ‘the original raison d’etre ofthe seaside resort and an enduring focus for enjoyment and conflict’.5

Henri Lefebvre claimed that ‘The beach is the only place of enjoyment thatthe human species has discovered in nature.’6 However, the beach is alsoridden with actual or simmering conflicts that reflect the fact of its being aninterface between land and sea, nature and culture, an anomalous categorywhich is neither sea nor land but has characteristics of both,7 and thereforeoccupies a special position in the geography of popular culture.

Rob Shields noted that ‘as a physical threshold, a limen, the beach hasbeen difficult to dominate’.8 The beach is laden with opportunities ofenjoyment that are potentially excessive and possibly are in defiance ofsocial norms and cultural conventions. By-laws that deal with codes ofdressing and norms of conduct, the authority of life-savers and standardsof behaviour introduce a semblance of order to the beach. The officiallydirected architectural (re)shaping of the beach is a measure of controlaimed at differentiating land-uses and managing the use of the beacharea. The political history of the beach is an account of the beach as asite of conflicts and controversies. Such conflicts involve official attemptsto control the activities at the beach and the form of the beach as wellas popular adherence to particular beach cultures that do not necessarilyconform to official notions about what is socially proper and culturallycorrect. On another level are conflicts and controversies over the beachthat highlight rival visions of the city as a seaside resort.

A short history of Tel Aviv’s beach: 1909–33

Founded in 1909 as a separate Jewish suburb of mixed Jaffa, the mainseaport of central Palestine, the original idea of Tel Aviv was that ofa ‘garden city’. As it turned out, Tel Aviv developed into a boomingJewish town that already in the 1920s became the urban centre of JewishPalestine.9 The celebration of Tel Aviv as the ‘first Hebrew city’ emphasizedits distinction both among other Zionist agricultural settlements and other

4 D. Webb, ‘Bakhtin at the seaside. Utopia, modernity and the carnivalesque’, Theory, Cultureand Society, 22 (2005), 124.

5 Walton, ‘Consuming the beach’, 280.6 H. Lefebvre, The Production of Space (Oxford, 1991), 384.7 J. Fiske, B. Hodge and G. Turner, Myths of Oz: Reading Australian Popular Culture (Boston,

1987), 59.8 Shields, Places on the Margin, 84.9 S.I. Troen, Imagining Zion: Dreams, Designs and Realities in a Century of Jewish Settlement (New

Haven and London, 2003), 85–111; Y. Shavit and G. Biger, The History of Tel Aviv (Tel Aviv,2001), vol. I (Hebrew).


cities of Palestine, such as Jerusalem or Haifa, that were characterized bymixed, Arab-Jewish population.

In the wake of the establishment of the British mandate in Palestinefollowing World War I, Tel Aviv underwent a process of rapid growth andexpansion. Many among the Jewish immigrants who arrived in Palestineand landed ashore at Jaffa Port remained in Tel Aviv and the populationof Tel Aviv swelled. At the beginning of 1922, its population was about15,000; in 1931 it was about 46,000, and in 1939 the population of Tel Avivrose to about 130,000. Already in 1935 the population of Tel Aviv exceededthat of Jerusalem, the capital of British mandate Palestine, and became thebiggest city of Palestine. Geographically, the city expanded northwards,along the seashore. In the course of its expansion, new neighborhoods wereestablished, and new streets were laid.10 Tel Aviv became the commercialand cultural centre of the Jewish Yishuv in Palestine. In 1921 Tel Aviv wasformally granted the status of a municipality.11

Like Los Angeles,12 Tel Aviv was not founded as a coastal city butreached the Mediterranean in the course of its expansion northwards.Already in 1912 Meir Dizengoff, Tel Aviv’s first mayor, contemplatedthe building of a harbour that would assert the independence of TelAviv from Jaffa and its port and would contribute to the developmentof modern industry and commerce.13 Nevertheless, the British favouredthe construction of a modern harbour in Haifa rather than in Tel Aviv.14

However, the idea that Tel Aviv should develop a Riviera along theseashore had been circulating since the late 1920s. In 1928, the Rivierawas on a list of proposals about what was needed to make Tel Aviv aseaside and health resort.15 The growing official attention accorded to theseashore reflected the understanding that the location of the city alongsidethe Mediterranean was more than a geographical coincidence, but also asource of prestige and a potential economic resource for the city. Shapingthe seashore area according to European patterns, e.g. paved promenadeswith trees and benches, was on the official agenda of transforming TelAviv into a renowned health and sea resort. The model was the seasideresorts of the Mediterranean, the foremost example being La Promenade desAnglais in Nice.16 In an article written in 1933 in praise of Tel Aviv, Nahum

10 N.I. Payton, ‘The machine in the Garden City: Patrick Geddes’ plan for Tel Aviv’, PlanningPerspectives, 10 (1995), 359–82; M. Roman, ‘The shift of the demographic and economiccenter from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv during the mandate’, in H. Lavsky (ed.), Jerusalem inZionist Vision and Realization (Jerusalem, 1989), 217–34 (Hebrew).

11 E. Efrat, Urbanization in Israel (London, 1984).12 See the observation about Los Angeles: R. Banham, Los Angeles. The Architecture of Four

Ecologies (Harmondsworth, 1973), 38.13 S. Stern, ‘Tel Aviv harbor – an episode in the history of the “Yishuv”’, Cathedra, 25 (1982),

115–16 (Hebrew).14 Ibid.15 A list of suggestions concerning the development of tourism in Tel Aviv, prepared by Sh.

Sharnopolsky for the municipality of Tel Aviv, 19 Feb. 1928, Tel Aviv Historical MunicipalArchive (hereafter TAMA), 4/3627.

16 M. Roytman, ‘Regarding the beach in Tel Aviv’, Yediot Iriyat Tel Aviv, 8 (1937/38), 47.

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Sokolov, the prominent Zionist leader and a gifted journalist, praised thecharms of Tel Aviv’s seashore:17

Towards evening I walked with other strollers on the beach, which is prettierthan both the French and Italian Riviera. It was indeed worth living to have theopportunity to see this miracle. I am confident that Tel Aviv will become the onlyRiviera of the Jews in the entire world.

For the residents of Tel Aviv, the beach was ‘the most popular place inour beautiful city’.18 Importantly, already in the early 1920s the residents ofTel Aviv transformed the beach into a site of leisure and recreation. At thisperiod, swimming in the sea was already a popular activity. For Tel Aviv’sresidents the beach provided an opportunity for recuperation – from thestrain of a workday in an office, factory or construction site. In the 1920sand 1930s most Tel Avivians lived in small, often overcrowded apartments.During the long summer season, in oppressive weather where humidityoften soared and temperatures were constantly around 30 degrees Celsiusduring the day, the beach and the activities associated with it provided arelief.19 Another crucial advantage of the beach was its function as a spa.The sun and fresh sea air in particular were considered to be beneficial forpublic health.20 For the Jewish community of Palestine, which in this periodincluded mainly immigrants from Eastern and Central Europe accustomedto long and cold winters, the beach represented the blessing of sun andfresh sea air.

With the growth of the population, Tel Aviv’s beach became increasinglycrowded. In the 1930s it was estimated that during weekdays thousands ofpeople gathered on the narrow stretch of sand that constituted the beachand over 50,000 congregated there on Saturday, the Jewish day of rest.The various leisure and fun-making activities associated with the beachcast it in the mould of popular traditions that endowed the place withits special character as a place of leisure and recreation. For its users, thebeach amounted to a summer-long carnival and a democratic experienceof sharing the public domain.

The municipal regulation of Tel Aviv’s beach began in 1921, when themunicipality gave concessions to official bathing establishments. At thisstage, from the perspective of the municipality, the beach was mainly asource of municipal revenue. In 1922 the municipality also arranged atransportation service to the ‘official’ beach in order to make it accessible

17 N. Sokolov, ‘The soul of Tel Aviv’, Yediot Iriyat Tel Aviv, 5 (1933/34), 275.18 A bather to the mayor of Tel Aviv, 20 Jun. 1947, TAMA, 4/26/b.19 On housing conditions in Tel Aviv see: A. Golan, ‘Jewish nationalism, European

colonialism and modernity: the origins of the Israeli public housing system’, HousingStudies, 13 (1998), 492–3.

20 Scientific knowledge about the health advantages of Tel Aviv’s sea and beach was alsomade public through newspapers articles written by experts. A case in point is DrBinyamini, ‘Tel Aviv riviera’, Ha’aretz, 2 May 1929, 2. The author – an expert on publichealth – elaborated on the chemical qualities of Tel Aviv’s seawater as well as the beneficialproperties of ultra-violet radiation.


to residents living relatively far from the beach.21 Besides the ‘official’bathing area, however, the public increasingly made use of the stretches ofthe beach south, but mainly north of the municipal bathing establishments.The physical condition of these ‘unauthorized’ bathing-areas was poor.Mining sand for building exposed underwater rocks. Dirt, overcrowdingand lack of civic discipline became a hallmark of the beach.

While ordinary Tel Avivians made use of the opportunities offered by thebeach, commentators and politicians increasingly lamented the desolateconditions at the beach and the apparent lack of municipal initiative in thisrespect. At the beginning of the 1930s, and especially with the approach ofTel Aviv’s twenty-fifth anniversary in 1934, the beach was a prominent itemon the list of things that needed urgent improvement for the sake of thecity’s reputation. In 1934 a member of the municipal council complained:

The beach became a place of lawlessness whereas the number of bathers increased.Things are done at the beach that risks the life of bathers and strollers, such as ridinghorses and more. The dirt is mounting . . . what is needed is appointing someonewho will take care of law and order at the beach.22

The difficulty in imposing order at the beach highlighted the widespreadnotion of the beach as an extraordinary place in the cultural geographyof the city. As a site of pleasure and fun, the beach offered an exit fromthe regulated sphere of ordinary life. Beyond its association with healthand recuperation, the beach was a site of adventure and freedom, funand pleasure, depending on the preferences of its users. In this respect,the recurrent efforts to subject its users to regulations and ordinancestestified to the tension between official and popular attitudes regardingthe meaning of the beach.

In 1934 Haim Nachman Bialik, the revered national poet and a patriotof Tel Aviv, published an essay in the official organ of the municipality.Entitled ‘On improving Tel Aviv’ and written on the occasion of TelAviv’s twenty-fifth anniversary, the essay also addressed the beach andits deplorable condition:23

By the way: in connection with the aspiration to transform Tel Aviv into a healthresort, it is necessary to relieve the city from a big disgrace – the seashore – thatwas besmirched with shabby buildings. In my opinion, all these buildings and thebathhouses should be removed. [It is necessary] to begin improving the beach, thatshould be widened and arranged according to the customs that apply for beachesin Europe. In any case, it is clear to me that the situation as it is cannot go on.

When Bialik’s essay was published, the municipality had alreadybegun to design a development plan for the seashore. In 1932 the cityengineer presented the mayor a preliminary development plan designed

21 See the contract with drivers and owners of buses, May 1922, TAMA 59/b.22 Reported in Ha’aretz, 19 Jun. 1934, 4.23 H.N. Bialik, ‘On improving Tel Aviv’, Yediot Iriyat Tel Aviv, 5 (1933/34), 883.

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in his department.24 In 1933 a public contest was held to proposea comprehensive architectural plan for the seashore. The result wasannounced in June 1934.25 The jury decided that no plan presented tothe public contest deserved the first prize, and only second and thirdprizes were accorded. Significantly, a second prize did not oblige the cityto implementation.26

Yet parallel to the city-engineer’s initiative, another alternative for thebeach was gaining official favour: the ambitious ‘reclamation project’,publicly known as the ‘Grunblatt scheme’, which proposed a radical re-shaping of Tel Aviv’s seashore.

The ‘Grunblatt scheme’: 1933–37

Claude Grunblatt was a Jewish-French engineer and a businessman. Hisinvolvement in Palestine began in the early 1920s, when he presentedDizengoff a detailed plan for a pier that would serve as Tel Aviv’sharbour. In 1925 an agreement was signed, which the mandate governmentrejected.27 In 1933, Dizengoff resumed negotiations with Grunblatt, thistime concerning the comprehensive development improvement of thecity’s seashore. Grunblatt recognized the complexity of such an ambitiousplan and consulted the London firm of ‘Rendell, Palmer and Tritton’ thatwas involved in the improvement of the Jaffa Port and the constructionof the Haifa Port. He also forged a business partnership with ColonelFrederick Kisch, who, as a retired British officer and the former head ofthe Zionist office in Palestine, was well connected with both the Britishauthorities and the Zionist establishment.

The negotiations began in the summer of 1933. The deliberations of themunicipal council were concluded on 29 August 1934, when the councilapproved the plan unanimously. The two sides signed a tentative contracton 25 September. The plan had to be approved by the mandate government.After studying the plan, the Jaffa district planning commission proposedsome technical changes, and the plan was sent to the government inJerusalem. The British high commissioner, the chief secretary and the chieftown planning consultant of the government visited Tel Aviv several timesto acquaint themselves with the plan. Subsequently, the high commissionerset up a commission to discuss the plan, and subsequently sent it to theColonial Office in London, where it was thoroughly evaluated. It was thenreturned to the municipality. After some minor changes were made, themandate government approved it on 16 July 1936.28

24 Y. Schifman to M. Dizengoff, 1 May 1932, TAMA, 4/2672a.25 Cf. Ha’aretz, 27 Jun. 1934, 6.26 Y. Schifman to M. Dizengoff, 1 May 1932, TAMA, 4/2672a.27 ‘Building a pier in the bounds of the Tel Aviv Municipality’, Yediot Iriyat Tel Aviv, 1 (1925),

4–5; Y.A. Shlush, Story of My Life (Tel Aviv, 1931), 408–10 (Hebrew).28 ‘Improving Tel Aviv, problems and proposals considering the reclamation plan of the

seashore’, Yediot Iriyat Tel Aviv, 8 (1937/38), 46–7.


Figure 1: Outline of the reclamation project and Tel Aviv’s port, 1936.

286 Urban History

At this stage of the history, the plan of the ‘Tel Aviv ForeshoreReclamation Project’29 proposed the building of a new district alongsideTel Aviv’s seashore, mainly on land acquired from the sea. A 1,800 mlong sea wall would be built into the sea to enclose a 150 m wide longstrip and 1,500 m of newly acquired drained land stretching alongside theseashore of Tel Aviv. On the waterfront, a 25 m wide quay promenade,a road and a sidewalk and arches containing various shops would bebuilt. The rest of the area would be divided into building plots, separatedby streets opening to the sea. A public garden, an amusement park andtwo swimming pools were also part of the development plan. The entiredevelopment area, which also included undeveloped areas alongside theold beach, was about 350,000 sqm. Some 100,000 sqm would be built withfour and five storey residential buildings and hotels. The developmentprogramme also foresaw the widening and improvement of a 500 mlong strip of beach north of the development area. The estimated costof development (the quay, the promenade, streets and parking places) wasabout 700,000 pounds. The construction of buildings would cost another2.5 million pounds. According to the plan, the reclamation project wasscheduled to take two and half years. The completion of the entire projectwas estimated to take between eight and ten years.

The support for the reclamation project represented the converginginterests of different parties. For Claude Grunblatt, the project combinedhis support for the Zionist endeavour with commercial interests. Hispartnership with Colonel Kisch was strategic in the sense that it couldfacilitate access to government agencies as well as to Zionist circles.30

However, at least in its early stage, the pivotal figure in initiating theproject was Dizengoff, the energetic mayor and the celebrated ‘fatherof the city’. Although the reclamation project was Grunblatt’s idea, theinvolvement of Dizengoff was a crucial factor. His motivation to initiatea major development plan reflected his ideological support of ‘privateinitiative’ and ‘free market Zionism’ – in contrast to the prevalent Zionistpolicy of favouring centralized projects financed by national agencies. Itshould also be noted that in 1933 Tel Aviv enjoyed an unprecedentedeconomic prosperity, following the immigration of German Jews fleeingNazi Germany.31 Under these favourable conditions it seemed that a majordevelopment project was appropriate for a city where the prevalent notionregarding real estate speculation was that the sea was the limit.

Moreover, in 1934 Tel Aviv was granted the status of a city, anda prestigious development project could substantially enhance both its

29 For the details of the plan see: ‘The reclamation plan of the beach’, Yediot Iriyat Tel Aviv,8 (1937/38), 148; W. Lesser, ‘Das Strandprojekt fur Tel Aviv’, Palastina Zeitschrift fur denAufbau Palastinas, 20 (1937), 430–2.

30 A case in point is a ‘private and confidential’ letter sent by J. Hathorn Hall, on behalf ofthe British high commissioner for Palestine on 16 May 1935, wherein Kisch was informedabout steps pursued for the benefit of ‘his’ project, TAMA 4/2481.

31 Shavit and Biger, The History of Tel Aviv.


image and urban development. The Grunblatt project became even moreimportant in this context after the inauguration in 1933 of Haifa’s modern,deep-water port. Dizengoff was concerned that the development of Haifainto the central industrial and commercial centre of British Palestine couldthreaten the economic position of Tel Aviv. In his own words: ‘Our concernabout the future of Tel Aviv is reinforced when we take into considerationthe position of Haifa, which is the most dangerous rival of Tel Aviv.’32

Interestingly, the construction of Haifa Port, the biggest engineering projectexecuted in mandatory Palestine, entailed the reclamation of land fromthe sea. When executed, the ‘Grunblatt scheme’ could guarantee Tel Avivnot only a major development project that could enhance the economyof the city, but also a sea reclamation project of its own, on a par withHaifa’s.

Dizengoff specified his support for the ‘reclamation project’ in a confid-ential letter sent to members of the municipal council before delibera-tions were due to take place.33 He emphasized the importance of theseafront as the appropriate place for ‘hotels, offices, clubs and governmentbuildings’, which, in light of the current condition of the seashore, couldonly be accomplished by reclaiming land from the sea. He also assertedthat the city would benefit from the project: ‘The land will increase in itsvalue. The streets and the promenade built there will improve the city andthe seashore, and will possibly attract many tourists and visitors.’

Dizengoff also disclosed a secret agenda behind his ardent supportfor the reclamation project. Though careful not to state explicitly whathe considered the ultimate goal of the project, he hoped that Tel Avivcould create in his terms ‘possibilities’ for small fishing and excursionboats to anchor there. At a later stage, bigger boats could anchor there to‘unload cargo, and when necessary to load oranges’. Further, the successfulconclusion of a big scale engineering project could serve as a ‘[P]recedentand example to larger developments on a larger scale’, hinting to theconstruction of a port.34

British support for the project reflected an interest in promotinglocal development, especially when such a development did not entailinvestment by the mandate government yet would provide it with asource of income.35 The interplay between the municipality, the mandategovernment and the Colonial Office in London reflected the prevailingstructure of power and the hierarchy of decision-making procedurecharacteristic of a colonial situation.

32 M. Diezengoff, ‘The development of Tel Aviv’, the text of a speech (no date, probably 1932),TAMA, 7(6)/28.

33 M. Dizengoff to members of the municipal council, 15 Jun. 1934, TAMA 4/2481.34 Ibid.35 British fiscal policy demanded that the imposition on the British taxpayer of any of the cost

of its development should be avoided, see: N. Gross, The Economic Policy of the MandatoryGovernment in Palestine (Jerusalem, 1982), 4.

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The public debate: June–July 1937

Following the approval of the ‘Grunblatt scheme’ in 1936, it was estimatedthat work would begin in spring 1937.36 Yet when the municipal councilwas about to approve the final details of the Grunblatt scheme, it becameapparent that public opinion was deeply divided in regard to the project.The issue dominated the public agenda in June and July 1937. Theopponents warned that the project meant the end of the beach as a popularsite of recreation for common people. Proponents of the project hailed itsimpact on the development of the city.

The advocates of the project emphasized the desolate condition of thebeach. Physicians stressed the desperate hygienic conditions on the beachand the danger it posed to public health.37 The dirt accumulated on thebeach included ‘banana peels, broken glass, rusty cans, remains of rottencorn, and moldy rags’.38 Further the argument went, mothers brought sickchildren to the beach, and contagious diseases could easily be contracted.The conclusion was that the beach, in its current form, could not bedefended, ‘and there is only one way to repair it: to destroy it, and in itsstead to build something new, an improved and clean place of recreation,full of greenery and trees’. Another proponent of the project reacted withsarcasm to the claim that the municipality was intent on ‘killing’ the beach:‘Perhaps the municipality is lethal since it desires to destroy and extinguishthe dirt and the scum found on our beach.’39

The proponents of the project emphasized its benefits. Tel Aviv, a citywithout any remarkable sights and tourist attractions e.g. archaeologicalexcavations and historical monuments, would become ‘one of the mostbeautiful places on the shore of the Mediterranean’ and a touristdestination. The desolate situation at the beach would be dramaticallychanged for the better: the development project would provide Tel Avivwith a 1,950 m long promenade, where strollers would be able to enjoyfresh sea air. It was also argued that actually the implementation of thedevelopment project would increase the area available for bathers.40

An argument in favour that gained in importance at this stage wasthat the execution of the project would provide the city with urgentlyneeded jobs for the unemployed. In 1933, when the project was initiated,Tel Aviv enjoyed prosperity. In 1937, the economic situation was different,consequent to the world economic crisis that led to economic stagnation inPalestine. Between 1935 and 1936 the number of new construction venturesdropped more than 40 per cent and the possibility of providing some 1,000unemployed with a job was praised as an important contribution to the

36 ‘Toward the materialization of the Grunblatt scheme’, Yediot Iriyat Tel Aviv, 7 (1936), 230–1.37 R. Deutsch, ‘To the opponents of the Grunblatt scheme’, Ha’boker, 10 Jun. 1937, 2; see also

Ha’boker, 17 Jun. 1937, 1.38 D. Teitel, ‘On the Grunblatt scheme’, Ha’boker, 15 Jun. 1937.39 Y. Karnieli, ‘Is the Grunblatt scheme indeed lethal?’, Ha’boker, 28 Jun. 1937.40 Ha’boker, 23 Jun. 1937, 8.


city’s depressed economy. The last argument appealed in particular to therepresentatives of the Labour movement in the municipal council.41

The opponents of the project emphasized its negative effects, designed,as it were, ‘to transform the beach into an asphalt promenade’. In thiscontext, environmental considerations played an important role. Sincethe climate of Tel Aviv was oppressive in the summer, the beach wasof a singular importance for the population, especially for children. Thepart of the seashore earmarked by the ‘Grunblatt scheme’ to serve asthe city’s beach was at the north. It was relatively far from the city’smain residential areas, including the southern poorer neighborhoods ofTel Aviv, and therefore inaccessible for the majority of residents: therewere no public transportation services on the Sabbath, and most peopledid not own a car. The northern part of the beach included steep hills anda narrow stretch of sand, and was therefore dangerous and not capableof serving the needs of the masses flocking to the beach on Saturday.Bathing there was dangerous because of rocks in the water and under-water currents.42 In a public assembly where the project was debated, onewoman asked: ‘Where will I take my children in the hot summer months?’Another woman maintained that she preferred her children to grow uphealthy at the beach than her husband getting a job.43

Opponents of the project also pointed to negative effects on publichealth and quality of life in general. A commission of the medical societypublished a warning regarding the potential damage to public health if thepossibility of using the beach for bathing in the sea were to be eliminated.Another argument was that the new buildings to be constructed onthe reclaimed land would block the fresh breezes from the sea, to thedisadvantage of residents.44 From another perspective, it was claimed thatthe project would only serve the interests of private capital and reinforcereal estate speculation. Economically, the owners of existing businesses andhotels would face hard competition from the new establishments openedin the new district.45

In an effort to refute the argument that the project would transform TelAviv into a thriving seaside resort, an opponent of the project observed thattimes had changed, and that ‘the young generation all over the world goeswillingly only to places where there is opportunity for free movementand natural sport. It leaves Nice, which had been the ideal of the oldgeneration, and seeks natural beaches, without artificial improvementsand embellishments.’46

41 Proceedings of the 96th meeting of the municipal council, 4 Jul. 1937; proceedings of the129th meeting, 20 Mar. 1938, TAMA, 10/6/7.

42 ‘Improving Tel Aviv’.43 Ibid.44 D. Horowitz, ‘A question to the municipality of Tel Aviv’, Davar, 18 Jun. 1936.45 ‘Improving Tel Aviv’.46 Ha’aretz, 14 Jun. 1937, 1.

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The ultimate goal of the campaign to mobilize public opinion against theproject was to convince the mayor and members of the municipal councilto withdraw their support for the Grunblatt scheme. The supporters ofthe project responded with a counter offensive. The formation of publicopinion assumed different forms. One was through articles in the Hebrewpress, where the writers, according to their position, expanded on theadvantages of the project or informed the readers about its negativeconsequences. Significantly, two daily newspapers in particular – Ha’aretzand Ha’boker – distinguished themselves as sites of public opinion. Thepublisher of Ha’aretz was actively committed to the struggle against theproject, and the newspaper published a series of articles against it. Ha’boker,a newspaper supporting business interests and the Zionist centre thatdominated the municipality, favoured the project.

However, the public debate was not limited to its articulation innewspapers. Those who rejected the project created a special committeeto co-ordinate the protest. A major success of the committee was theorganization on 8 June 1937 of a mass assembly, where, beside the speakersinvited to present their case in favour or against, members of the publicvoiced their opinion. The large number of attendees made the event apowerful demonstration of discontent, and the newspapers reported theunusual event on their first page. The proponents of the project ‘responded’on 17 June with another assembly, where speakers argued in favour of thereclamation project.

In an effort to manipulate public opinion, a committee comprisingfounders of Tel Aviv published an open letter to the mayor in whichthey expressed their support for the development project. For them, theprospect of a new beach, without underwater rocks and more spaciousthan the old, was a major improvement.47 Both sides organized delegationsto meet the mayor and explain their views. On 13 June he met with theopponents, who represented the discontent of the public when it becameclear that the project meant the disappearance of the beach.48 A week later,he met with a delegation of the supporters. In their appeal they asserted:

In the name of public activists, physicians, engineers, and businessmen . . . wedeclare our endorsement for the Grunblatt scheme . . . We request the municipalassembly to accelerate the signing of the contract since we consider theimplementation of the project a means to improve the health, the economy and thevalue [sic] of the city.49

The most original strategy employed by the opponents of the projectwas a petition which 2,300 citizens of Tel Aviv signed to express theirdisapproval.50 In particular, the petition emphasized the need ‘to preserve

47 ‘The founders of Tel Aviv in favor of the Grunblatt scheme’, Ha’boker, 28 Jun. 1937, 1.48 ‘What do the opponents of the Grunblatt scheme demand?’, Ha’aretz, 14 Jun. 1937, 1.49 Ha’boker, 23 Jun. 1937, 8.50 Ha’aretz, 21 Jun. 1937.


the beach of Tel Aviv in its current form since it is the most precious naturalresource of our city and the only place of recreation for the overwhelmingmajority of residents’. The notion that the opposition gave voice to thesentiments of common citizens rather than sectarian interests, such asrepresented by the ‘engineers and businessmen’, emphasized the popularcharacter of the struggle against the project.

The importance of the petition transcended its message. The text of thepetition stated that the success of the petition was especially important‘since it was the first time that the public is requested to express its opinionregarding a communal issue’. It was a new form of political action: forthe first time in the history of Tel Aviv, activists dedicated to a communalcause mobilized public opinion to exert pressure on elected officials inregard to a specific issue. In a meeting of the municipal assembly, themayor, Israel Rokah, expressed his anger at the petition as a ‘methodof cultivating public opinion’.51 For Tel Aviv it was something entirelynew. It emphasized popular participation instead of party politics, directaction and the mobilization of the population for a specific cause, ratherthan the common practice of an ideologically laden election campaignwhere prominent Zionist issues were translated into the language of localpolitics.

The opponents of the project emphasized that their campaign was not‘political’, namely, that the issue they promoted transcended party politics.However, beyond the names of respectable experts and common citizenswho advocated the preservation of the beach, an interesting feature of thecampaign was the significant involvement of German Jews, most of whomhad arrived into Palestine only a few years before. Many German-soundingnames appeared on the list of signatures attached to the petition. Gershom(Gerhard) Schocken, the publisher of the Ha’aretz daily newspaper, wasamong the dedicated supporters of the campaign. He was also one ofthe speakers in the mass assembly organized by the opponents of project.Pinhas Rosenblit (Rosen), the spokesman of the anti-project campaign, wasa leading figure among the German Jewish community and a member ofthe municipal council.52

Despite the prominence of the Yekkes (a common designation for GermanJews in Palestine),53 the campaign was not perceived as an issue of a specificimmigrant group. However, the role of the Yekkes in the protest movementprovided the newcomers with the opportunity to assert their integrationinto local conditions and to emphasize that they had a unique contributionto make. In this sense, the campaign served the new immigrants fromGermany as a ‘rite of initiation’ into communal politics.51 Ibid.52 Rosen, who in 1948 became the first justice minister of the State of Israel, was among

the leaders of a centre-liberal party, the Progressive List that represented mainly German-Jewish immigrants.

53 On the Yekkes see: Y. Gelber, A New Homeland: The Immigration and Integration of MiddleEuropean Jews, 1933–1948 (Jerusalem, 1990) (Hebrew).

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The end of the Grunblatt scheme: 1937–40

In the wake of the public protest that engulfed Tel Aviv in June andJuly 1937, the municipal assembly postponed the final approval of thereclamation project and the signing of the contract.54 This indicated thevirtual end of the project, though no official announcement in this respecthad ever been made. The key word was ‘postponement’. The waning ofthe Grunblatt scheme was a gradual process of avoiding the issue. Asthe protocols of the municipal assembly make clear, the Grunblatt schemewas not cancelled, but dropped from the agenda in a typical bureaucraticmanner: by not discussing it.55

Since no official explanation was ever given, the matter remainsspeculative. It seems, however, that the demise of the Grunblatt schemewas the result of a convergence of different reasons. The situation in 1937was significantly different than it had been between 1933 and 1934, whenDizengoff initiated the reclamation project. In September 1936 Dizengoffdied, and his successor, Israel Rokah, was not committed to the project orto Grunblatt personally. Actually, in 1933–34 he co-operated with the cityengineer in promoting the alternative architectural reshaping of theseashore that culminated in the public contest to design the seashore.Another major change that had occurred since the project was firstdiscussed was the inauguration of Tel Aviv’s port in 1936.56 This smallport meant a major achievement for Tel Aviv in its quest to become theJewish capital of British mandate Palestine. It also meant that the idea of thereclamation project as a first step toward a future port – which for Dizengoffwas a major incentive for promoting the project – became obsolete. Fromanother perspective, the conditions in 1937 and especially in 1938 werenot favourable for launching a major development project that had to befinanced by private investors. The economic depression and the state ofemergency in Palestine during the years of the Arab Revolt (1936–39), themounting political tensions in Europe and the threat of an impending warwith Germany could not encourage large-scale investments in a majordevelopment project.

The ‘coup de grace’ for the Grunblatt scheme was the execution of anew plan in 1939/40 for the improvement of the seashore. Postponementbecame indefinite, and in practical terms amounted to its cancellation as aviable option for Tel Aviv’s seashore.

In 1938 Ya’akov Schifman, Tel Aviv’s city engineer presented his planto ‘improve the seashore’. This plan was not new; actually, it was initiated54 Proceedings of the 99th meeting of the municipal council, 25 Jul. 1937, TAMA, 10/6/7.55 Scanning the proceedings of the municipality between August 1937 and December 1939

resulted in a single reference to the Grunblatt scheme, casually mentioned during a generaldebate on municipal development works. See: Proceedings of the 139th meeting of themunicipal council, 25 Apr. 1938, TAMA, 10/6/7.

56 British approval for constructing a harbour in Tel Aviv followed the blocking of Jewishaccess to Jaffa’s harbour since the outbreak of the Arab revolt in April 1936. See: Stern, ‘TelAviv harbor’, 116–18.


in 1933/34, but was overshadowed by the ambitious reclamation project.When it became apparent that the ‘Grunblatt scheme’ was ‘postponed’,Schifman proposed a revised version of the 1933/34 plan. His alternativewas much cheaper (according to his estimation only 70,000 pounds) andless ambitious than the reclamation project. Importantly, it left the beachas an integral aspect of the architecturally modified seashore, therebyavoiding the opposition of the citizenry, while proposing a significantimprovement of the prevalent situation. In short, the city engineer’s planprovided a comprehensive solution without overreaching the resources ofthe municipality and antagonizing the populace.57

At the centre of the plan was the idea to separate emphatically ‘betweenthe built area of the city and the beach’ by a concrete structure. The philo-sophy lying behind it was that a structure was needed to frame the city:‘The most important factor that makes it hard for controlling the beach isthe blurring of the border between the city and the waterfront, betweenprivate property and the beach area.’58 According to the plan, the beachwas separated from the city by a promenade. The decision to avoidconstruction on the beach area reinforced the special status of the beach asa sphere of nature. The promenade was thus the interface between ‘nature’and ‘civilization’.

The plan included the building of streets and regulating traffic, clearingthe beach from existing edifices, such as the public baths, but its centrepiecewas the promenade. Stairs led from the promenade to the beach. In itssouthern part, a street ran parallel to it. In its northern part, the promenadewas wider, almost 20 m in width, and was designed solely for pedestrians.The view to the sea was an essential aspect of the promenade. Theiron railing on the edge was intended to offer those sitting on benchesspread along the promenade an unhindered view to the sea.59 In theearly 1940s, the promenade became a prominent feature of Tel Aviv’sbeachscape.

Though modest compared to the Grunblatt scheme, the advantage of theplan to ‘improve the seashore’ was that it took into account two differentconcerns. One was the concern of the populace to preserve the beachas a public space of recreation and leisure. The other was the concernof commentators and subsequently of the city authorities to shape theseashore in a manner becoming of a modern seaside city.

Concluding remarks

When it became evident that the Grunblatt scheme was not going to beimplemented, it lost its contentious character and gradually became athing of the distant past, another unrealized option on the list of ideas

57 Ibid.58 Ibid., 150.59 Sh. Samet, ‘What is new on Tel Aviv’s seafront’, Ha’aretz, 23 May 1940, 3.

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Ill. 1: Tel Aviv: the beach and the promenade in the 1940s. Courtesy ofIsrael’s national photo collection.

that never materialized. From a historical perspective the significance ofthe project was in the manner in which it reflected and refracted differentviews about the seashore and its place in the urban texture of Tel Aviv.The historical significance of the controversy seems to be its novelty. Thecontroversy not only challenged the authority of the elected municipalauthorities to proceed in executing a major development plan withouttaking into account the concerns and objections of ordinary citizens. Italso introduced a new form of public protest and innovative meansof mobilizing public opinion against undesired policies. A term suchas ‘grass root initiative’ was entirely foreign to the political culture of1937 Palestine, yet the methods used for ‘consciousness raising’ by theopponents of the project, and especially the petition, heralded futuredevelopments.

The controversy was a novelty also in that apparently for the firsttime in the history of Zionism, ‘development’ was openly and publiclychallenged. Construed in terms of (re)construction, development wasa major issue on the Zionist agenda. Suffused with modernist notions


of progress and modernization, both Zionist ideology and practiceconsidered development projects to be a quintessential aspect of Jewishnational revival in a backward, underdeveloped Palestine. Tel Aviv, themodern city on the shore of the Mediterranean, both represented andencapsulated the modernizing impulse of Zionism. The ‘reclamationproject’, though an emulation of the government development of HaifaPort, was intended to highlight the ‘modern’ aspect of the new citythat aspired to be a modern metropolis, on a par with major seasideEuropean cities. However, the controversy about the reclamation projectchallenged the prevalent notion of development as an ultimate value thatovershadowed any other considerations.

The ultimate question seems to be why the Grunblatt scheme, which in1935 was still hailed as ‘a dowry for the future of the city’, was taken off themunicipal agenda. It seems that when the debate about the project ragedin Tel Aviv, less than five years after it was conceived, the assumptionsthat underlay the project were no longer valid. The changing political andeconomic situation in British mandate Palestine and in Europe, the death ofDizengoff, who promoted the project, the opening of Tel Aviv’s port in 1936– all these meant that the plan, to use Seymour J. Mandelbaum’s words inhis discussion of reading old plans, was obsolete, since it did not ‘fit currentor wisely anticipated conditions’.60 The controversy was focused on thebeach, but it also questioned the premises of the project, thereby effectingits de facto cancellation. The controversy also highlighted the importancethe population assigned to the beach as an urban experience and an aspectof the city. The plan of the promenade which was implemented in 1939/40was more modest, much cheaper and, importantly, it preserved the beachas a territory of popular culture, thereby affirming its being the centrepieceof the vision and position of Tel Aviv as a seaside city.

60 S.J. Mandelbaum, ‘Reading old plans’, Journal of Policy History, 5 (1993), 193.

Contested beachscapes: planning and debating Tel Aviv's seashore in the 1930s

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