Abstract
This article examines the political displacement of minority communities in gentrifying neighborhoods within ethno-national contested cities. While prior research on gentrification-induced political displacement has primarily centered on class- and race-based marginalization in Global North cities, this study expands the analytical lens to contexts where gentrification is entangled with struggles over sovereignty, national identity, and territorial control. Using a qualitative comparative case study of Israeli mixed cities of Jaffa and Lydda, the research identifies four key expressions of political displacement efforts: (1) delegitimization of minority leadership and representation; (2) exclusion from decision-making and resources; (3) creation of exclusionary ethno-national institutions; and (4) nationalist demonstrations. The study reveals that political displacement in these contexts is not merely a byproduct of demographic change, but a mechanism of ethno-national domination. The study contributes a context-sensitive framework for understanding political displacement in divided/contested cities and highlights broader implications for urban democracy, minority agency, and conflict escalation.
Introduction
Cities have long served as pivotal arenas for minority political empowerment, particularly when national political systems fall short in ensuring equitable representation. Urban neighborhoods, especially those with high ethnic concentrations, offer fertile ground for cultivating collective political consciousness and translating significant demographic presence into influence (Dawson 1994; Stone 1989; Owens and Rich 2003). Yet in recent decades, gentrification, the process by which affluent populations move into historically under-resourced neighborhoods, driving up costs and displacing longtime residents, has increasingly threatened the political power of marginalized urban populations. Beyond socioeconomic transformation (Glass 1964), gentrification often entails political displacement, defined as the erosion or marginalization of long-term residents’ political power and collective voice in decision-making arenas. Political displacement manifests in various forms, including declining voter turnout among long-term residents (Knotts and Haspel 2006) and minority electorates (Chandra 2024), the loss of municipal representation, the diminished influence of long-standing council members, activists, and residents (Martin 2007; Newman, Velez and Pearson-Merkowitz 2016; Casellas and McBrayer 2019; Lee and Velez 2024), and the displacement or replacement of long-standing-led organizations by those led by newcomers or, alternatively, the loss of representation within existing organizations (Betancur 2002; Martin 2007; Hyra 2015). These political consequences may extend beyond individual neighborhoods, influencing broader electoral dynamics and reshaping political power at the citywide level (Betancur 2002; Owens and Brown 2014; Tighe et al. 2015; Wilson, Wouters and Grammenos 2004).
While political displacement remains a relatively understudied dimension of gentrification, scholars have begun to call for greater attention to the entanglements between urban transformation and political power (Takahashi 2022; Doering, Silver and Taylor 2021). At the same time, most existing work centers on Global North cities, particularly in the U.S., where political displacement is analyzed through lenses of racial inequality, neoliberal restructuring, and class-based marginalization. However, such frameworks insufficiently account for the dynamics unfolding in contested or divided cities marked by ethno-national conflict, where urban change intersects with contested sovereignty, settler-colonial legacies, and struggles over national identity (Bollens 2014). Postcolonial urban scholars have therefore called for attention to diverse geopolitical power relations that extend beyond capitalism and neoliberalism (Leitner and Sheppard 2016; Parnell and Robinson 2012; Peake et al. 2018; Robinson and Roy 2016), including ethnicity, nationalism, colonialism, indigeneity, religion, and citizenship (Tzfadia and Yiftachel 2021; Yiftachel 2020).
By analyzing gentrification-induced political displacement (abbreviated hereafter as GIPD, for brevity) in contested cities and conflict zones, this study broadens the scope of urban politics scholarship beyond dominant Euro-American frameworks (Hyra 2015; Knotts and Haspel 2006; Martin 2007; Betancur 2002). This is not only critical for accurately globalizing urban theory beyond Euro-American contexts; it also illuminates how hierarchies of nationalism, territoriality, and indigeneity shape gentrification processes—insights that are increasingly relevant in Global North cities, where political displacement intersects with ethno-national identity and claims to indigeneity. Furthermore, studying GIPD in contested cities is especially important, as minority groups in these settings often face heightened structural disadvantage within national political institutions. In contrast, urban political power can mitigate national-level marginalization by enabling minorities to exert control over their everyday lives (as seen in Black political empowerment in U.S. cities, e.g., Stone 1989; Owens and Rich 2003). However, when political displacement intensifies at the urban scale in ethno-national conflict contexts, it not only undermines local political participation, weakens democratic foundations, and diminishes a sense of belonging (Betancur 2002), but may also trigger broader national unrest, instability, and protest that extends beyond the immediate urban setting.
To address this research gap, this research therefore asks: What are the varied expressions of political displacement efforts in contested cities undergoing gentrification within ethno-national conflictual settings? To address this question, the study analyzes GIPD in contested cities beyond the “usual suspects” of class- and culture-based explanations prevalent in Euro-American geographies, and seeks to identify how the underlying logics of these expressions reflect unique local political, ethno-national, and territorial contexts. The study adopts and advances recent scholarly calls for engaged pluralism (van Meeteren et al. 2016), fostering more productive dialogue and collaboration between planetary urbanization/gentrification and postcolonial urbanization approaches (Barnes and Sheppard 2010; Brenner 2018; Peck 2015). On the one hand, it recognizes critiques of applying the term gentrification to contexts where power relations are shaped by ethno-national, religious, territorial, and state forces beyond Euro-American settings, emphasizing the need to recognize additional forms of geopolitical power. On the other hand, it argues that capitalist and neoliberal logics must not be overlooked, as they intersect with and reinforce these ethno-national forces, thereby establishing a common ground for urbanization inquiry (Barnes and Sheppard 2010; López-Morales 2015). Specifically, the research focuses on the distinctive phenomenon of state-led ethno-gentrification (SLEG) in Israel's mixed cities, building on prior work that examined the epistemological challenge of defining the phenomenon and analyzed it as a form of gentrification that combines economic logics with ethno-national and institutional forces and motivations (Shmaryahu-Yeshurun 2025). It extends earlier works on SLEG in Israel by examining the yet unexplored diverse expressions of political displacement efforts through a comparative intra-state perspective. 1
SLEG in Israel refers to the relocation of Jewish-religious middle-class gentrifiers, supported by the state, into marginalized urban neighborhoods. These actors, organized through religious-Zionist nonprofit organization known as Garinim Torani’im (“Torah nuclei”), establish and integrate into local educational, cultural, and religious institutions to reshape the neighborhood's demographic and symbolic character. As of 2023, 195 such groups operated in nearly every major city in Israel, encompassing roughly 17,500 households (Shmaryahu-Yeshurun 2025). Since the 1990s, many of these groups have strategically settled in predominantly Arab neighborhoods in mixed cities to reinforce Jewish presence and sovereignty (Shmaryahu-Yeshurun and Monterescu 2024). This phenomenon has been conceptualized through the terminology of gentrification, since, as previously argued (Shmaryahu-Yeshurun 2025), it combines institutional goals and discourses of territorialization and ethno-national control with economic redevelopment and urban renewal through the “creative class.” It is also driven by economic and cultural incentives and preferences, such as affordable housing in central locations, leveraging rent gaps for future investments (Smith 1982), community-oriented and diverse lifestyles (Zukin 2012), which serve—and in some respects conceal—the religious-nationalist agenda underpinning the project.
The study employs a qualitative case study methodology based on in-depth interviews with Arab residents and Jewish ethno-gentrifiers in two contested cities in Israel: Lydda and Jaffa. The findings show that political displacement efforts in gentrifying contested cities are not merely a byproduct of demographic change, i.e., the influx of ethnic majorities with different class positions, cultural capital, and lifestyles. Rather, it is also deeply tied to struggles over national identity and territorial control, as well as to the delegitimization and suppression of political and ethno-national identities amid a prolonged conflict environment. This study identifies four distinct expressions of GIPD efforts: (1) delegitimization of minority political leadership and representation through nationalist and security framings; (2) exclusion from municipal decision-making and resource allocation; (3) the creation of exclusionary ethno-national institutions and initiatives; and (4) nationalist marches and political demonstrations. The entanglement of economic-cultural and ethno-national logics reflected in GIPD in contested cities thus demonstrates the relevance and importance of engaged pluralism and the necessary dialogue between planetary urbanization/gentrification and postcolonial urbanization approaches.
By examining this phenomenon in two different urban settings, the study offers both a generalizable model of GIPD as a broader trend and an account of local variation. It identifies shared logics and patterns but also critical differences in how expressions of GIPD efforts manifest across cities, revealing variation in visibility, intensity, and implementation. In Jaffa, a city with a multicultural ethos, a relatively strong Arab community, and a weaker ethno-gentrifier presence, displacement tends to be more covert, discursive, and less institutionalized. In Lydda, where Jewish-Arab tensions are sharper and ethno-gentrifiers are more concentrated, displacement is overt, formalized, and institutionalized. By theorizing expressions of GIPD efforts in contested cities, this study develops a context-sensitive framework that moves beyond Euro-American models. It contributes to urban scholarship by illustrating how struggles over urban space in contested cities and conflict zones reproduce national cleavages and redefine the city as a site of political ethno-national exclusion.
Political Displacement in Gentrifying Neighborhoods in the Global North
Research on political displacement in gentrification literature, largely developed in the Global North, has advanced our understanding of political inequalities between ethnic/racial minorities and gentrifiers. GIPD is typically explained as a result of demographic shifts that politically marginalize minority groups, mainly due to class-cultural differences between predominantly white, middle-class gentrifiers and marginalized communities. While rooted in institutional and individual racism and negative stereotypes of people of color, these struggles are rarely framed as ethno-national, indigenous, or territorial claims—as they are in contested cities. Consequently, GIPD expressions are often portrayed as rooted in class, culture, and lifestyle disparities between white middle-class newcomers and lower income, often racialized, communities.
For instance, Hyra (2015) shows that in Washington, DC's Shaw/U Street neighborhood, newcomers and long-term residents often have divergent tastes, values, and interests shaped by class and generational gaps. Gentrifiers express their community preferences through political displacement, for instance, by shifting political representation, promoting new amenities like bike lanes and dog parks, and contributing to the closure of local go-go music clubs, all of which reshape the cultural landscape of historically Black urban communities. GIPD here is largely driven by differences in tastes and lifestyles, not explicitly by racism or an intent to alter the neighborhood's racial makeup, as some white gentrifiers claim their attraction to the area was precisely its racial diversity and Black history. Chandra's (2025) echoes this finding, arguing that new progressive and urbanist movements in Philadelphia, not rooted in the city's organic traditions, have promoted increased density, bicycle infrastructure, reduced parking, and multi-family zoning, thereby contributing to the erosion of working-class Black neighborhoods. Such changes reflect lifestyle and cultural differences between gentrifiers and long-term Black residents. A similar conclusion can be drawn from Martin's (2007) study of Atlanta, which shows how political displacement occurs when long-time residents are outnumbered or sidelined by newcomer-led groups, losing leadership roles and political voice. Conflicts often center on affordable housing, new services, or crime-control strategies, reflecting gentrifiers’ priorities, typically white, affluent, and highly educated. While racial tensions emerge, Atlanta's Black middle class rarely supports lower-income Black residents, and some gentrifier organizations even promote Black leadership while excluding long-term, low-income residents.
Finally, Knotts and Haspel (2006) frame gentrification—and the accompanying political displacement in Atlanta, primarily as a matter of class and neighborhood tenure rather than racial turnover. While acknowledging the racial segregation in Atlanta, the explanations for the GIPD of long-term Black residents, and specifically voter turnout, are not driven by race or a desire among gentrifiers to change the area's ethnic, racial, or cultural character. Rather, they found that while the likelihood of voting among new residents remains constant, gentrification leads to a decline in voter turnout among long-term residents. These studies emphasize that GIPD's expressions mainly arise from class-based cultural and lifestyle differences between mostly white, middle-class newcomers and lower-income racialized longtime residents, rather than from explicit indigenous, racial, or ethno-national conflicts.
Gentrification and Political Displacement in Ethno-Nationally Contested Cities: Insights from Israel's Mixed Cities
Contested, polarized, or divided cities are similar terms used to describe contemporary cities wherein the very legitimacy of political structures and systems of governance is challenged by ethnic groups seeking either an equal or proportionate share of power, or demanding group-based autonomy or independence (Allegra et al. 2012; Bollens 2007). Such contested cities vary in form: in some cases, the city itself becomes a focal point or magnet for unresolved nationalist–ethnic conflict; in others, the city is not the primary source of inter-group tensions but, instead, serves as a platform for expressing competing sovereignty claims that extend beyond the urban region 2 (Bollens 2007). Unlike much of the research on GIPD, which has primarily focused on isolated case studies of cities marked by ethnic or racial conflict in the Euro-American context, the past two decades have seen growing attention in urban politics and gentrification scholarship to contested and divided cities (Rokem and Boano 2017; Murtagh 2011), along with the development of comparative and “planetary” perspectives on gentrification (Lees, Slater and Wyly 2023; Smith 2002). These shifts emerged partly in response to critiques by postcolonial scholars who warned against the uncritical application of Northern concepts to vastly different urban and political contexts (Robinson 2011; Ghertner 2015). As a result, researchers increasingly call for context-sensitive analyses that attend to local histories, political regimes, and social hierarchies shaping urban transformation.
Gentrification in contested cities, such as Sarajevo (Pobric and Robinson 2019), Belfast (Murtagh 2011), and Beirut (Krijnen and De Beukelaer 2015), has often been linked to wartime destruction, vacancy, and reduced property values, creating a “rent gap” (Smith 1982) and opening opportunities for postwar redevelopment within broader normalization projects. In postwar Sarajevo, for example, foreign investment was linked to reconstruction and international tourism, reshaping the housing market and producing forms of tourism gentrification (Pobric and Robinson 2019). In Belfast, gentrification has been associated with globalization, studentification, elite investment, and heritage planning, processes that reduced the salience of traditional ethnic divides and tensions while creating new forms of class segregation (Murtagh 2011). In Beirut, gentrification has been shaped by war and conflict, which produced violent displacement, fragmented ownership, and regulatory changes that generated rent gaps later closed through real-estate development (Krijnen and De Beukelaer 2015). However, gentrification in contested cities is not always a byproduct of post-conflict normalization; it can also serve as a strategy within ongoing conflicts, intensifying ethno-national tensions. In Mumbai, for example, a xenophobic campaign by a local political party mobilized gentrification, further marginalizing Muslim communities displaced by the Slum Rehabilitation Scheme in the late 1990s (Doshi 2013). Adopting the terminology of gentrification, these studies show that in contested cities, the process is shaped not only by capitalism and neoliberalism but also by nationalist and territorial goals, underscoring the role of ethno-national conflict and majority–minority power relations. In doing so, they promote dialogue and collaboration between planetary urbanization/gentrification and postcolonial urbanization approaches (van Meeteren et al. 2016; Barnes and Sheppard 2010; Brenner 2018; Peck 2015).
A particularly relevant case for understanding GIPD in contested urban contexts is Israel's ethno-nationally contested cities, where Jewish gentrifiers displace Arab minority citizens in a process that reflects not only urban capitalism and class-based marginalization, but also entrenched ethno-national hierarchies (Shafir 2018) rooted in Israel's ethnocratic regime and the ongoing Israeli-Palestinian conflict (Yiftachel 1997). In Israel, contested cities where a Jewish majority resides alongside a significant Arab minority (10–30%), such as Jerusalem, Lydda, Tel Aviv–Jaffa, Haifa, Acre, and Ramle, are termed “mixed cities” (Israel's Central Bureau of Statistics (CBS) 2019). These cities, once leading Palestinian and “modern” urban centers before 1948, were transformed from Arab to Jewish cities during the early years of Israeli statehood (Yacobi and Tzfadia 2009). During the 1948 war, the majority of the Palestinian population in these cities was forced to flee or was expelled, with their land subsequently expropriated by the state and placed under military rule. Simultaneously, waves of Jewish immigrants from Europe and the Middle East were settled in these urban centers (Monterescu 2015; Yacobi 2009). As a result, these cities were reshaped into spaces of entrenched inequality, exemplifying what Yacobi (2009) terms an “urban ethnocracy.”
In recent decades, gentrification in Israel's mixed cities has intensified displacement pressures on Arab residents. While classic forms of market-led gentrification—such as the influx of affluent Jewish homebuyers into renovated housing—are present, these dynamics intersect with ethno-national logics of control and Judaization (Monterescu 2015; Shafir 2018). Since the 1990s, SLEG has actively promoted the relocation of middle-class Jewish religious-nationalist groups, organized as Garinim Torani’im, into ethnically mixed neighborhoods (Shmaryahu-Yeshurun 2022, 2025). These groups pursue gentrification for both investment and lifestyle motivations, as well as for a political project aimed at reinforcing Jewish sovereignty and embedding nationalist ideology in contested urban spaces. This strategy gained momentum following the 2005 Israeli disengagement from Gaza, when elements of the settler movement shifted their focus to “settling in the hearts” within Israel's Green Line 3 , seeking to entrench the political-religious vision of a “Greater Israel” in these urban environments (Shmaryahu-Yeshurun and Monterescu 2024). These actors receive material and symbolic support from the state to entrench Jewish demographic and spatial dominance (Shmaryahu-Yeshurun and Ben-Porat 2021). The displacement of Arab residents thus occurs not only through market pressures but also through bureaucratic restructuring, the privatization of public housing, and land reallocation—mechanisms that selectively leverage economic incentives and rent-gap opportunities, the discourse of gentrification and urban renewal, and the promotion of the creative class to advance national political goals (Shmaryahu-Yeshurun 2022).
The acute tensions between Jews and Arabs in the mixed cities were forcefully exposed in spring/May 2021, when unprecedented intercommunal violence erupted across Israel's ethnically mixed cities. At the height of Ramadan, violence escalated after the police prevented Palestinians from gathering at the Damascus Gate in the Old City of Jerusalem. Spreading like wildfire to other contested cities in Israel, bloody clashes resulted in arson attacks on houses and vehicles, with multiple lynches of Jewish and Arab residents. In the city of Jaffa, just days before the escalation of widespread unrest across Israel, Arab public housing residents attacked ethno-gentrifiers attempting to purchase property, who were perceived as insensitive. In the days following this violent incident, the local struggle intersected with broader national protests, as residents framed their resistance as a dual displacement, class-based due to increasing gentrification in the city, and ethno-national on the national level (Shmaryahu-Yeshurun and Monterescu 2024).
While research has made significant progress in identifying the local specificities of gentrification beyond the Global North, expressions of GIPD efforts under conditions of ethno-national conflict, contested or divided cities, settler colonialism, or ethnocratic rule remain underexplored. Moreover, even within the Israeli context, mixed cities differ in their urban ethos, democratic values, gentrification trajectories, political power structures, and the organization of minority communities, highlighting the need for comparative urban analysis that is attentive to intra-state variation.
Method
Case Study Selection: Jaffa and Lydda
This study employs a case study approach (Yin 2006), focusing on two neighborhoods in Israel's mixed cities undergoing gentrification: the Ajami neighborhood in Jaffa and the Ramat Eshkol neighborhood in Lydda. Mixed cities provide a particularly valuable context because the ethnonational conflict enables an analysis of expressions of GIPD efforts not only along class and cultural lines but also in relation to ethnonational dynamics. The rationale for this approach is twofold: first, to identify common patterns across different cases, and second, to capture the nuances of how GIPD efforts are expressed within distinct urban settings. This enables both the mapping of GIPD efforts expressions across cities and the development of a comprehensive model of the phenomenon (drawing on Creswell 2007). The methodological assumption is that expressions of GIPD efforts among Arab minorities in gentrifying cities extend beyond the immediate urban context and can only be revealed through systematic comparison. At the same time, examining different cities allows for sensitivity to the unique political and urban conditions shaping each case, avoiding oversimplification.
Specifically, Juxtaposing Jaffa and Lydda is particularly important for several reasons. First, both are well-documented cases of gentrification (Monterescu 2015; Shmaryahu-Yeshurun 2022), providing a solid foundation for investigating political displacement in this context. Second, both neighborhoods include ethno-gentrifiers (religious Zionists), enabling an analysis of how this type of gentrification affects political displacement. Finally, the cities differ markedly in the composition of their Arab populations, the character of gentrification processes, and their political climates, levels of municipal autonomy, and prevailing attitudes toward minority political expression (see also pp. 4–5 and Table 1). Together, these contrasts illuminate different dimensions of GIPD expressions efforts: while Lydda illustrates more explicit and exclusionary forms of political displacement, Jaffa highlights more subtle, often less visible patterns of marginalization that are equally important to uncover.
Characteristics of Lydda and Jaffa.
The data refer to 2022, taken from CBS (2024).
All variables (except on gentrification) refer to the city level, rather than neighborhood level.
Official government data exists only for Tel Aviv–Jaffa (and not on Jaffa as a standalone city). Therefore, the data on Jaffa were partially drawn from Monterescu (2015) and from data collected by the PI (unpublished).
Ethno-Gentrification Jaffa
Jaffa, an ancient port city on the Mediterranean coast, is currently home to approximately 40,000 Jewish and 20,000 Arab residents (Monterescu 2015). Prior to 1948, Jaffa was a thriving Palestinian urban center, often referred to as the “Bride of Palestine.” However, the 1948 war and the establishment of the State of Israel led to the expulsion and flight of most of its Arab population, leaving behind only a small minority. Palestinian properties and lands were expropriated and later repurposed as public housing. In 1950, the city was annexed by Tel Aviv, a move that integrated Jaffa administratively but further marginalized it economically and socially. Over subsequent decades, Jaffa absorbed waves of Jewish immigrants and gradually became an impoverished, working-class enclave characterized by neglect, crime, and poor infrastructure (Monterescu 2015).
Beginning in the 1960s and 1970s, Jaffa began to attract more liberal, coexistence-oriented gentrifiers, with a noticeable influx during the 1990s. These groups, artists, activists, entrepreneurs, and members of the cultural elite, were drawn by Jaffa's historic Mediterranean architecture and its rent gap. They contributed to its transformation, and by the 2000s, gentrification in Jaffa had accelerated. Luxury real estate development, the establishment of gated communities, and soaring housing prices followed, leading to the displacement of low-income residents, particularly Arabs (Kaddar 2020; Monterescu 2015).
Despite the displacement of Arab residents, some of these gentrifiers often frame their presence in the neighborhood as part of a broader commitment to social justice and coexistence. They have actively promoted values such as pluralism, diversity, and support for Arab political rights (Shaham-Maymon and Miodownik 2025). Referred to as “activist gentrifiers” (Kaddar 2020), their portrayal in Jaffa aligns with similar types identified in the gentrification literature, such as “social preservationists” (Brown-Saracino 2009), “mindful gentrifiers” (Coley and Adelman 2021), and “liberal gentrifiers” (Lees 2000). Displacement is also tempered by the branding of Jaffa as a multicultural, tourist-friendly destination, which employs techniques of “ethnic packaging” to promote inclusivity and cultural diversity as assets for economic growth (Hackworth and Rekers 2005).
Since 2007, however, Jaffa has become a target for ethno-gentrifiers. Following the 2005 Gaza disengagement, settlers and religious-nationalist families began relocating to cities inside the Green Line, including Jaffa. That year, eight families affiliated with the religious-Zionist movement settled in Jaffa and soon established the “Shirat Moshe Yeshiva,” a religious institution for men. By 2021, the ethno-gentrification project had expanded to include around 350 individuals—comprising 45 permanent families and dozens of students enrolled in pre-military and religious academies (Shmaryahu-Yeshurun and Monterescu 2024). Alongside the national-religious incentives for Judaizing the city, ethno-gentrification was also driven by motivations for a diverse urban lifestyle and economic opportunities, similar to “classic” gentrification, and its expansion has been strategically facilitated by both state-administered tenders and private real estate development. In 2009, the ethno-gentrifiers purchased land on Ger Tzedek Street via the Israel Land Administration. Marketed explicitly to Zionist-religious families, the project led to the eviction of a nearby Arab resident and triggered public controversy. A second project, named HaEtrog, resulted in the construction of a 20-unit religious housing complex in the heart of the Ajami neighborhood. The ethno-gentrifiers now operate multiple Jewish-religious institutions in Jaffa, including a men's yeshiva, pre-military academies, a religious elementary school, and various cultural centers and nonprofit organizations (Shmaryahu-Yeshurun and Monterescu 2024).
Despite these developments, as well as the considerable political power and organizational influence of ethno-gentrifiers, the number of ethno-gentrifiers in Jaffa remains relatively small. This is partly due to the sharp rise in housing prices, which limits the expansion of ethno-gentrification projects. In addition, Jaffa, as part of Tel Aviv, retains a relatively tolerant public ethos toward minorities and promotes a multicultural image (Barak 2023; Cohen 2025). Finally, the Arab communities in Jaffa are comparatively stronger, both socioeconomically and politically. Many belong to an emerging Arab middle class with access to economic resources, entrepreneurship, and political representation; factors that help counter processes of political displacement (Monterescu 2015).
Ethno-Gentrification in Lydda
Lydda (also known as Lod) is a central Israeli city with approximately 85,351 residents as of 2022, of whom 63% are Jews, 29.4% Arabs, and 7.6% others (CBS 2024). Before 1948, it was a predominantly Arab city, but following the war and the mass displacement of its Arab residents, it became a majority-Jewish locality (Yacobi 2009). In the following decades, Arab families, including Palestinians from Gaza and the West Bank, Bedouins, and former intelligence collaborators, gradually repopulated the city. They were joined by Jewish immigrants from the former Soviet Union and Ethiopia during the 1990s. These demographic shifts, combined with chronic municipal mismanagement, economic stagnation, and the departure of the Jewish middle class to newly established nearby cities of Modiin and Shoham, deepened the city's socio-economic decline (State Comptroller's Report 2012).
Although the rent gap created in Lydda and its central location did not attract liberal gentrifiers as in Jaffa, mainly due to its low socioeconomic profile, poor municipal management, and high crime rates, it did attract ethnic gentrifiers who benefited from the rent gap to establish a neighborhood for the middle-class religious Jewish population. These gentrifiers were drawn both by the opportunity to implement nationalist-social values and by the city's “diverse” and marginalized population, which allowed them to pursue these objectives effectively (Shmaryahu-Yeshurun 2023). Since the mid-1990s, the city has become a key hub for ethno-gentrification. In 1994, religious activists began settling ethno-gentrifiers in neighborhoods such as Neve-Zeit and Neve-Nof. This trend intensified with the founding of the Ramat Elyashiv neighborhood in 2000, a development specifically designed for large Zionist-religious families. Over time, ethno-gentrifiers also moved into Ramat Eshkol, a historically mixed Arab–Jewish working-class neighborhood. Here, they have established yeshivot (religious institutions for Jewish men), religious elementary schools, pre-military academies, and other Jewish religious institutions. Recent urban renewal projects in Ramat Eshkol—particularly those approved in recent years under National Outline Plan 38 (TAMA 38), which offers development incentives for seismic retrofitting—have further intensified displacement pressures on Arab renters.
As of 2024, Lydda has more than 1,500 ethno-gentrifier families, making it the city with the highest concentration of such settlers in Israel (Shmaryahu-Yeshurun 2025). Dozens of these families reside in Ramat Eshkol, turning it into a focal point of religious-nationalist settlement efforts and urban transformation. These efforts combine demographic goals with a broader religious-political agenda to strengthen the city's Jewish character. In addition, Lydda is characterized by a fragmented Arab society, divided along lines of class, religion (primarily Muslim), and citizenship status, particularly between 1948 Arabs and newer residents such as Bedouins and Palestinian collaborators (Hoffnung 2017; Yacobi 2009). The Arab community in Lydda also faces greater socio-economic marginalization and reduced political representation compared to other mixed cities such as Tel Aviv–Jaffa and Haifa (Ron, Hadad Hajj Yechia 2018; CBS 2024). These structural weaknesses limit Arab residents’ access to municipal decision-making and their ability to resist displacement. Finally, unlike Jaffa, Lydda lacks a multicultural urban brand and shows minimal commitment to liberal-pluralist values. Urban development policies in Lydda prioritize majoritarian-nationalist agendas over inclusivity and coexistence (Yacobi 2009). Similarly, Jewish Lydda residents have shown lower levels of tolerance for Arab political rights compared to residents of Tel Aviv–Jaffa (Shaham-Maymon and Miodownik 2025). With intensifying housing pressures across Israel and Lydda's strategic location, gentrification processes in the city might deepen in the coming years, further exacerbating interethnic tensions and making the city a critical site for examining political displacement.
Sample and Data Collection
This study employed three qualitative methods: semi-structured in-depth interviews, urban ethnographic observations, and content analysis. Triangulating these methods enhanced the study's credibility by capturing the phenomenon from multiple perspectives, combining lived experiences, contextual nuances, and discursive representations (Flick 2007). This strategy enriched the data and strengthened both the validity and transferability of the findings, which are essential for developing a generalizable model of GIPD expression efforts.
Semi-Structured In-Depth Interviews
This study is based on 46 semi-structured, in-depth interviews conducted in two ethnically mixed Israeli cities: Lydda (Lod) and Jaffa. In Lydda, between 2017 and 2019, interviews were conducted with nine Jewish ethno-gentrifiers, six Arab residents and activists, and five municipal policymakers, including the city manager, deputy mayor, community department director, urban renewal director (economic company), and city spokesperson. In Jaffa, interviews were carried out between 2020 and 2021 with 10 ethno-gentrifiers, eight liberal gentrifiers, and eight Arab residents and activists. In addition, three short follow-up conversations with Arab residents in Lydda were conducted in 2023 to update and contextualize earlier findings. Participants were recruited through purposive and snowball sampling. Initial contacts were established during fieldwork and observations, followed by referrals from participants. Interviews were conducted in person at locations chosen by interviewees, lasted 45–90 min, and were audio-recorded with consent and transcribed verbatim. Pseudonyms were assigned to all participants to preserve anonymity. Data collection continued until theoretical saturation was reached, that is, when no new insights or themes emerged. All procedures complied with ethical research standards, including informed consent, confidentiality, transparency regarding the study's aims, and the right to withdraw at any stage. The study received IRB approval before data collection, and all transcripts were anonymized and securely stored on an encrypted university server. The interviews provided first-hand insight into how political displacement is expressed, experienced, enacted, and contested in the context of gentrification. Recognizing that political displacement often emerges through power asymmetries between municipal authorities, new residents, and long-established marginalized communities, three distinct interview protocols were developed for policymakers, Jewish ethno-gentrifiers, and Arab residents and activists. Each was semi-structured and open-ended, designed to elicit participants’ interpretations, experiences, and perceptions. The policymaker protocol focused on bureaucratic procedures, municipal bylaws, institutional norms, and the governance of political voice and participation. The Jewish ethno-gentrifier protocol explored attitudes and actions toward Arab political participation and their own political engagement. The Arab resident protocol examined perceptions of political power, marginalization, and the influence of ethno-gentrifiers.
Urban Ethnographic Observations and Content Analysis
While in-depth interviews provided direct insight into participants’ lived experiences, urban ethnographic observations and content analysis offered complementary perspectives for uncovering the less visible expressions of GIPD efforts. These methods were particularly important given the subtle, routinized, and often sensitive nature of the phenomenon. Political displacement is frequently normalized in everyday urban life or experienced as diffuse and difficult to articulate. Observational and documentary data, therefore, allowed the identification of unspoken practices, exclusions, and interactions not easily expressed in interviews (Jackson 1985). Urban ethnographic observations were conducted in both Lydda and Jaffa: between 2017 and 2019 in Lydda and in 2023 in Jaffa. I attended a range of public events, including municipal meetings, religious celebrations, and commemorative activities such as the Independence Day march. These events were chosen for their centrality to the political and social life of the city and for the opportunities they provided to observe interactions among Arab residents, Jewish gentrifiers (particularly nationalist-religious settlement groups), and municipal officials. Particular attention was paid to the spatial and discursive dynamics of inclusion and exclusion: who spoke and in what language, how municipal representatives responded to Arab political claims, and how space was regulated during mixed-community events. Each observation was documented using detailed field protocols that captured the event's purpose, participants, interactions, and notable exchanges, along with analytical reflections on manifestations of displacement such as silencing, surveillance, or unequal access to municipal platforms. To triangulate and deepen the analysis, I also conducted document and media content analysis. This included a broad set of materials: municipal records (e.g., planning documents, annual reports, council protocols, and budget reports); documents from ethno-gentrifier organizations (e.g., websites, blogs, public relations materials, annual work plans, vision statements, budgets, and video campaigns); and press and online content from local and national outlets as well as activist and community forums. Materials were collected using a dual strategy: referrals from interview participants (e.g., correspondence with municipal authorities or documents cited during interviews), and systematic keyword searches online.
Data Analysis, Limitations, Ethical Considerations, Positionality, and Reliability
The data analysis followed Creswell's (2007) case study approach and unfolded in three stages. (1) Within-case analysis: Each city was examined separately through detailed thematic analysis, aligned with the research question on expressions of GIPD efforts in urban space. The process began with low-level descriptive coding of interview excerpts and materials using participants’ own terms, which were then clustered into higher-order analytical categories. (2) Cross-case analysis: A thematic comparison across Jaffa and Lydda identified both recurring and divergent expressions of GIPD efforts, revealing how the phenomenon manifested differently across urban contexts. (3) Interpretation and theorization, Finally, a broader conceptual model of GIPD expressions efforts in contested cities was developed, offering theoretical insights that extend beyond the two cases.
In this study, policymakers were interviewed only in Lydda due to limited access in Jaffa. This asymmetry has meaningful explanations and was addressed in the research design. First, the researcher's longstanding familiarity with Lydda enabled access to policymakers, whereas in Jaffa, such access was more restricted. Second, this difference reflects not only practical challenges but also variations in institutional openness and support regarding ethno-gentrification: in Lydda, the ethno-gentrifier group is larger, more influential, and closely tied to the municipality, some members hold municipal positions, and the city's Chief Executive Officer himself founded the group and previously served as its director. As a result, the municipality was willing to openly support and legitimize its activities. In contrast, in Jaffa, as the “periphery” of Tel Aviv with its liberal ethos, the municipality distances itself from openly supporting or identifying with the smaller ethno-gentrifier group. Thus, methodological asymmetry highlights important urban dynamics of political displacement. To compensate for the absence of interviews in Jaffa, field observations and systematic policy document analysis provided insights into decision-making processes. A further limitation concerns the different time periods of data collection across the two cities; this was partly addressed through follow-up conversations with three Lydda policy-makers in 2023, during which previous findings were presented and updated. Crucially, the fieldwork precedes recent geopolitical developments, including the ongoing conflict in Gaza (October 2023 onward). These events have likely had an impact on inter-ethnic relations and political dynamics in Israel's mixed cities, and thus, by nature of their timing, the findings do not account for these recent, critical shifts in the phenomenon under study.
Throughout the research, ethical standards were rigorously upheld, with particular attention to cultural and political sensitivities and my positionality as a researcher. This was especially critical given the 2021 civil unrest in mixed cities and the ongoing conflict in Gaza. I remained aware of my position as an outsider to the minority communities under study, recognizing how my identity could influence participants’ responses or create reluctance to express opinions fully. To address these dynamics, I prioritized prolonged engagement and gathered information from as many diverse sources as possible. I emphasized respectful and culturally sensitive interactions, reflexivity, and an ethics of reciprocity (Corbin and Morse 2003). Flexibility in scheduling and the location of interviews was ensured to maximize participant comfort and accessibility. I actively questioned my interpretations, sought feedback from participants, and provided opportunities for them to respond to or withdraw from the research at any stage. Participation was entirely voluntary, with the option to pause or terminate interviews at will. Throughout, I carefully monitored signs of discomfort, ensuring that ethical considerations and the well-being of participants remained central to the research process.
To ensure the reliability of the findings, only themes that emerged across multiple interviews, either within the same city or across different cases, were included in the final model. Isolated expressions mentioned by a single interviewee were excluded. Interviewees were invited to review the findings and offer feedback, and follow-up interviews were conducted when necessary for clarification. Additionally, peer debriefing was conducted to enhance the validity of the analysis (Creswell 2007).
Findings
Political displacement of minorities in gentrifying contested cities is not merely a result of demographic transformation between different ethnic/racial groups in the urban space, who also differ in class, culture, and lifestyle. It is also closely tied to majority and minority struggles over ethno-national identity and territory as part of a broader national conflict. Consequently, the expressions of GIPD efforts take on additional layers of meaning and include unique expressions specific to this context. The findings revealed four main expressions of GIPD efforts: (1) Delegitimization of minority elected officials and their portrayal as “enemies,” (2) Exclusion from urban decision-making centers and resource allocation, (3) Establishment of exclusionary political-national institutions and campaigns, and (4) Political-national protests and marches. These expressions vary between cities: in Jaffa, where the Arab community is more organized and faces less ethno-gentrification pressure, political displacement expressions tend to be more covert and subtle. In contrast, in Lydda, they are more explicit, overt, intense, and institutionalized.
Delegitimization of Minority Elected Officials
The first expression of political displacement efforts in mixed cities following the entry of ethno-gentrifiers is the delegitimization of Arab elected officials and political leaders. This manifests in attempts and calls to disqualify them from their positions, derogatory name-calling, and the use of terms such as “terrorists” and “enemy” to undermine their legitimacy and weaken their political power within the city.
In Lydda, ethno-gentrifiers have openly expressed delegitimization and called for the disqualification of Arab public officials on multiple occasions. For example, a local branch of the right-wing religious Zionist party “Jewish Home” in Lydda explicitly declared in 2018 that it was “the only party that fought to prevent the appointment of a deputy mayor from the Arab sector” (Personal archive). At several public forums, ethno-gentrifiers, including a councilmember affiliated with the ethno-gentrifiers, challenged the legitimacy of Arab councilmembers and called for their dismissal. In 2018, after an Arab councilmember urged Arab residents not to sell their homes to ethno-gentrifiers, an ethno-gentrifier councilmember posted on his Facebook page: “You [Arab councilmember] and your friends do not deserve to be partners in the leadership” (Personal archive).
Following the May 2021 violent events in Lydda, the same ethno-gentrifier councilmember publicly accused another Arab councilmember of inciting riots, stating that she should be arrested. He claimed that “[Arab] councilmembers are subordinate to the Islamic movement and lack the ability to lead independently.” He further asserted that “proposals belonging to Israel's enemies will not be put on the table of the Zionist Lydda City Council.” During a council meeting, he also declared: “Unfortunately, we have to sit in this hall together with some terrorist operatives [Arab councilmembers], soldiers of the Islamic movement who work shoulder to shoulder with wretched rioters whose hands hold rocks, writings, and firearms … the leaders of the instigators … they have chosen a side; they are not on our side.”
The delegitimization of Arab elected officials and political leaders in Lydda also included attempts to silence their political voice and prevent their advocacy for Arab residents. Nadine, a political activist from the Ramat Eshkol neighborhood, recounted her struggle when in 2012 the local community center, the Chicago Community Center, was transferred to the control of ethno-gentrifiers and access was denied to Arab residents. After a persistent 3-year political struggle led by Nadine and other Arab activists, the center was eventually reopened to the Arab community. However, when Nadine naturally sought to become the coordinator for Arab activities at the center, she faced significant barriers. Even after her employment was approved, she described ongoing attempts to silence her political voice: I was one of those who fought for opening the community center for Arabs as well. We made an alternative community center on the street, we addressed Members of the Knesset [Israeli parliament], and we succeeded. But when the community center was opened to the Arabs, the first one they refused to hire was me because I made a struggle. They barely got me the job eventually … So today in work meetings, I am sitting in front of the city general director, who is also a Garin Torani member, and I listen; I learned to hold back, being political … I give up my principles … [otherwise] the municipality will say I am not loyal to the system and will fire me. (Nadine, personal communication 2019) There are Arabs who are citizens of the State of Israel, who undermine the existence of the State of Israel … There is a political struggle with them, but anyone who works against and does not want a Jewish state here is an enemy, a criminal … I don’t trust them … And a Jewish person who votes for an Arab party or representative— Have we gone crazy?! They undermine our existence … It is self-hatred. (Noam, personal communication 2020) Contrary to what most Arabs believe, except for their politicians, they are not interested in the national struggle; they care about the economy, about living well … Arab politicians try to stir things up and occasionally succeed in organizing protests and mobilizing the public. (Jonathan, personal communication 2020) Members of the council from the Arab sector are inflaming tensions and endangering coexistence in Lydda … It is unfortunate that every year, as a routine with the start of the school year, extremist elements, including council members from the Arab sector, choose to engage in “hand-raising” protests, thereby harming children and disrupting their joy, using students and their parents to advance their political agendas. (Lydda Municipality 2014)
Exclusion from Decision-Making and Urban Resource Allocation
A key expression of GIPD efforts among Arab residents in Jaffa and Lydda is their diminished influence and exclusion from decision-making processes and the distribution of municipal resources, such as budgets and public facilities, following the political integration of ethno-gentrifiers into urban governance structures. Ethno-gentrifiers leverage their collective and organizational power, social status, and local and national political networks to promote an agenda that prioritizes their interests and those of the religious-nationalist Jewish public, while excluding Arab residents.
In Lydda, a prominent shift occurred in 2013 with the election of Mayor Yair Revivo, who received organized political support from ethno-gentrifiers, including campaign rallies, house meetings, and financial backing. The founder of the ethno-gentrifier group even urged the outgoing Mayor, Meir Nitzan, to publicly endorse Revivo. Upon his victory, Revivo appointed the ethno-gentrifier's founder as the city's CEO and another ethno-gentrifier as deputy mayor. Additional ethno-gentrifiers were appointed to key positions in the local government and public institutions, particularly in the education, welfare, religious, and cultural sectors. Interviews with Arab residents and activists revealed that this political integration led to discriminatory resource allocation favoring the educational and cultural institutions of the ethno-gentrifiers. For example, the “Eshel” special education kindergarten for Arab children and the “Chicago” community center in the Ramat Eshkol neighborhood were repurposed to serve the ethno-gentrifier and Jewish population, with access denied to Arab residents. The municipality justified the decision by citing the need to accommodate the growing number of ethno-gentrifiers in the neighborhood. After a 3-year political struggle by Arab residents, the community center was eventually reopened to them, but in a segregated manner; Jewish and Arab residents were assigned to separate floors in the building. Ethno-gentrifiers also exerted pressure to cancel municipal plans to establish a special education school for Arab children in Neve Zayit, a neighborhood they had recently begun moving into. Similarly, they demanded involvement in selecting kindergarten teachers, the integration of Rabbis into educational activities, and physical alterations to kindergarten buildings. To ensure their children would be grouped, they successfully lobbied for changes to school zoning policies, effectively controlling the number of ethno-gentrifier children in each institution.
While ethno-gentrifiers in Jaffa have not achieved the same level of senior municipal appointments as in Lydda, they have integrated into municipal-affiliated bodies and partnered with city institutions to advance their interests. They maintain close ties with Haim Goren, Deputy and Acting Mayor of Tel Aviv-Jaffa, who himself is an ethno-gentrifier in Tel Aviv. Ethno-gentrifiers in Jaffa also collaborate with local organizations on projects and community events that maintain strong ties to municipal institutions and public officials. However, their initiatives are targeted at the Jewish population and do not promote joint activity with Arab residents. For example, participant observations revealed that they organize events around Jewish holidays while opposing joint celebrations, such as the annual “Hanukrismas” event that combines Hanukkah and Christmas traditions in Jaffa. Additionally, they lobbied the municipality to establish a separate religious school for the Jewish population. This effort included a public petition campaign among Jewish residents demanding a separate Jewish school. As explained by the founder of the ethno-gentrifier group, Rabbi Jonathan: Our activities are about Jewish identity, not coexistence or peace talks …. We came here to strengthen the Jewish community's identity. So, we do activities for Jewish holidays … We don’t aim for joint efforts [with Arabs] … If you try to promote peace by blurring identities, it only creates confusion. Integration leads to assimilation … There's a lack of activities that emphasize Jewish identity. Out of excessive caution, children don’t even learn their own heritage … Even in city tours, no one talks about Jaffa's glorious Jewish history. (Jonathan, personal communication 2020)
Another expression of GIPD efforts was the opposition by ethno-gentrifiers to affordable housing projects designated for the Arab population. In 2018, the Israel Land Authority and the Tel Aviv-Jaffa municipality launched a project called Dira BeHanacha (“Apartment at a Discount”) in the Maccabi Jaffa stadium area, which offered 340 housing units—32 of them reserved for residents (both Arab and Jewish), including 10 specifically designated for Arab residents of Jaffa. Later, in 2021, amid an intensifying housing crisis and accelerated gentrification in Jaffa, the municipality launched a lottery for another affordable housing initiative known as Michelangelo 15, comprising 28 units. The project aimed to offer apartments at a discount of approximately 30% below market value and was formally designated for local Arab residents. Ethno-gentrifiers and other Jewish residents opposed these allocations and filed a legal petition, arguing that such provisions constituted unjust and extreme discrimination that violated fundamental democratic principles. In the case of Michelangelo 15, the Tel Aviv District Court rejected the petition and allowed the project to proceed. However, in the Dira BeHanacha case, while the court affirmed that it is legally permissible to allocate apartments exclusively to Arab residents as a form of positive discrimination within a targeted tender, it accepted the petition due to administrative failures and a lack of transparency on the part of the state. As a result, the court annulled the allocation of apartments to Arab residents (Administrative Petition [Tel Aviv] 27856-05-22, Anar Bar Ilan v. State of Israel – Ministry of Construction and Housing 2022).
As the political power of ethno-gentrifiers has grown, Arab politicians and public officials have described experiences of marginalization and exclusion. Ramzi, an Arab activist and former city council member in Jaffa, explained: We are not in decision-making roles. Jews are the ones making decisions about Arabs; we have no authority. Even if we participate in politics, as a city council member, our influence is minimal. (Ramzi, personal communication 2021)
The Establishment of Exclusionary Institutions and Political Campaigns
Another expression of GIPD efforts is the establishment of new institutions in mixed cities and the promotion of political campaigns grounded in a Jewish nationalist agenda. Ethno-gentrifiers have initiated and established political institutions, public campaigns, and advocacy efforts explicitly targeting Jewish audiences. These initiatives aim to reinforce Jewish presence, promote a Zionist-Jewish identity, and consolidate Jewish sovereignty in the urban space. Through these institutions and political activities, ethno-gentrifiers not only alter the demographic composition of mixed cities but also reshape their symbolic and political character.
A prominent example of such institutions is the establishment of religious pre-military academies (mechinot). These educational frameworks prepare young Jewish men for military service in the Israel Defense Forces, providing instruction and programs in Zionism, Judaism, leadership, and community volunteering, as well as physical training in preparation for enlistment. Ethno-gentrifiers established two such academies in the Ramat Eshkol neighborhood of Lydda, named Maoz and Erez, with the explicit aim of strengthening Jewish presence in the neighborhood. Similarly, in the Ajami neighborhood of Jaffa, two pre-military academies, Arzei HaLevanon and Laredet Lemala, were founded.
Alongside these institutions, ethno-gentrifiers also established Jewish seminaries (midrashot), Jewish heritage tour centers, and yeshivot, all of which serve Jewish populations and aim to reinforce the Jewish-Zionist character of mixed cities. In Lydda, for example, several religious-nationalist institutions were established, including the Identity Center, which promotes Jewish and Zionist education in public schools; a Jewish student center; student villages affiliated with Bnei Akiva-the youth and alumni movement of religious Zionism; the Shabbat Table project, which hosts Jewish residents, primarily those in need or socially isolated, for communal Friday night dinners; and Bishvilod, a heritage tour center focused on Zionist history and military legacy. In Jaffa, similar institutions include the Shirat Moshe yeshiva for men; two midrashot for women—Yifat and Midreshet Jaffa; Midreshet Jaffa Letayarut, a religious tour center; student villages affiliated with Bnei Akiva; and Beit Ahava VeTefila, a synagogue and spiritual-cultural center. Arab residents describe these institutions—particularly the pre-military academies—as symbols of their political displacement. As Iyad, a Jaffa resident, explained: These students walk around on Saturdays from the yeshiva to their dorms, walking together—young men with kippahs and rifles. It's intimidating and unpleasant. (Iyad, personal communication 2021)
At the national level, ethno-gentrifiers have maintained close ties with prominent figures from right-wing and religious Zionist parties, including Likud, the National Religious Party, the National Union, Jewish Home, Religious Zionism, Otzma Yehudit, and Noam. Collaborations included conferences, house meetings, campaign events, and direct interventions to advance the interests of the ethno-gentrifiers, such as political appointments in government ministries. During the 2022 national election campaign (25th Knesset), ethno-gentrifiers launched extensive mobilization efforts in Lydda to increase voter turnout among right-wing Jewish constituents, especially in support of the Religious Zionism Party. Activities included transporting voters to polling stations, hanging campaign posters, organizing house gatherings, and distributing flyers.
Following the election results, a city council member affiliated with the ethno-gentrifier group posted the following on his Facebook page: An incredible achievement for the Religious Zionism party in Lydda, the second-largest Jewish party in the city. I’m proud that Lydda played its part in bringing the right back to power. I want to thank all the activists, youth, drivers, and mobilizers who worked long hours on election day. You nailed it! (From A.L., a council member, founding member of the Jewish Home party branch in Lydda 2022, Personal archive)
To conclude, the establishment of exclusionary institutions and political campaigns constitutes a key expression of symbolic and political displacement efforts. Through these efforts, ethno-gentrifiers seek to reshape urban space along a Jewish-Zionist axis, reinforce Jewish sovereignty, and marginalize Arab residents from the political and cultural fabric of mixed cities.
Political-Nationalist Marches and Demonstrations
A final expression of GIPD efforts involves political and nationalist demonstrations organized by ethno-gentrifiers, which Arab residents perceive as exclusionary and provocative. In both Lydda and Jaffa, ethno-gentrifiers have organized marches during Jewish religious and national holidays, most notably on Jerusalem Day, a national holiday in Israel that commemorates the 1967 Six-Day War and marks the unification of East and West Jerusalem under Israeli control. As observed in participant observations and recounted by ethno-gentrifiers, these marches draw thousands of participants, families, youth, and students from pre-military academies and religious schools, many from outside the city. Marches often pass through mixed neighborhoods, including those marked by ethnic tension, and are accompanied by Israeli flags, nationalist songs, and sometimes military and police presence.
Over the years, these processions have sparked tensions and confrontations between Jewish marchers and Arab residents. For example, during the Hanukkah holiday in 2013, ethno-gentrifiers organized a torchlight parade in Lydda, chanting the Hanukkah song “Banu Hoshekh Legaresh” (“We Came to Drive Away the Darkness”), a popular children's song symbolizing the triumph of light over darkness, a central theme of the holiday. Many Arab residents interpreted this as a hostile, symbolic message targeting them. In response, Arab organizations held a counterdemonstration, displaying Palestinian flags and participating in a united protest by all Arab political movements in the city. Maha al-Naqib, an Arab activist and resident of Lydda, explained in an interview with Haaretz: They [ethno-gentrifiers] came with a clear agenda to enter Arab neighborhoods and liberate the city center from Arab occupation … They started going out on their processions, just like the settlers in Tel Rumeida
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, with rifles and Israeli flags, singing “Am Yisrael Chai” [The Jewish Nation Lives] and “Banu Dark Hoshekh Legaresh”. It is not innocent … it is a provocation. There were never processions in the city—Jews used to celebrate inside synagogues. They came with an agenda: to expel us and Judaize Lydda. (Levy and Liebek 2013)
In Jaffa, similar though smaller-scale demonstrations have taken place, often aligned with Jewish holidays and religious events. In 2011, for example, ethno-gentrifiers organized a march that drew approximately 200 participants from outside the city, culminating in a mass prayer at a local synagogue. Tensions escalated when marchers passed near the Al-Nuzha Mosque, leading to violent clashes between Arab residents and demonstrators. In response, Arab community leaders held an emergency meeting and launched a campaign denouncing what they described as deliberate provocations and racism. In April 2021, shortly before the outbreak of widespread intercommunal violence in Israel's mixed cities, two Arab residents of Jaffa living in public housing physically assaulted the head rabbi of the Shirat Moshe yeshiva, who is also a leader of the local ethno-gentrifier group, after he entered their residential compound to inspect public housing designated for eviction and resale. The incident was perceived as a provocation by the residents. In response, ethno-gentrifiers staged a protest calling for the restoration of Jewish sovereignty in the city and for increased policing against Arab protestors. This demonstrates the ways in which ethno-gentrifiers reproduce familiar patterns of minorities being “over-policed and under-protected” (Nelsen, Ramanathan and Ogorzalek 2024), thereby reinforcing their political displacement.
In sum, the organization of political and nationalist marches by ethno-gentrifiers in mixed cities constitutes a visible expression of GIPD efforts. These events, often infused with nationalist symbols and messages, are strategically held in sensitive locations and times and are perceived by many Arab residents as deliberate provocations and part of broader efforts to Judaize the public sphere.
Conclusion
This study advances the field of urban politics by identifying new and underexplored expressions of gentrification-induced political displacement (GIPD) in ethno-nationally contested cities. While dominant scholarship has largely focused on class-based exclusion, lifestyle-driven cultural distinctions, and racialized urban inequality in Global North contexts, this research demonstrates that GIPD also operates through nationalist logics, territorial struggles, and identity conflicts between ethno-national groups. In the case of contested cities in Israel, political displacement is not merely a by-product of demographic shifts or lifestyle differences between ethnic-class groups. Rather, it functions as a strategy to consolidate majority dominance and undermine minority political power. Expressions of GIPD in this context extend beyond local class or cultural struggles and also reflect ethno-national exclusion and sovereignty and identity struggles.
By situating GIPD within ethno-national conflict contexts, this study contributes both theoretically and empirically to urban politics, gentrification, and political displacement literature. Theoretically, the study argues that a full understanding of GIPD requires attention to crucial structural dimensions beyond class, including majority-minority relations, territorial struggles, colonial and postcolonial legacies, and conflicts over national identity. In doing so, the study actively bridges and promotes dialogue between planetary urbanization/gentrification and postcolonial urbanization approaches.
This perspective is relevant not only for contested, divided, or pluralized cities but also for Global North “ordinary” cities more broadly, where struggles over land, identity, indigeneity, and belonging continue to shape urban politics. GIPD should therefore be analyzed not only as a manifestation of class-based inequality or cultural and lifestyle distinctions between gentrifiers and long-term residents, but also as part of broader ethno-national and identity-based struggles that often seek to reshape neighborhood demographics, “whiten” contested spaces, or suppress minorities and indigenous claims to belonging and representation.
Empirically, the research contributes not only by offering the first systematic analysis of GIPD in contested Israeli cities—where urban transformation is deeply intertwined with ethno-national conflict—but also by introducing an intra-state comparative perspective on GIPD. By analyzing the case of SLEG in Lydda and Jaffa, and by focusing on specific expressions of GIPD efforts that remain underexplored in these contexts, the study develops an original comparative framework that captures both shared logics and local variations in expressions of political displacement. This framework enables theoretical generalization while preserving a nuanced understanding of the phenomenon. It demonstrates how exclusionary practices, such as the delegitimization of elected Arab officials by portraying them as “national enemies, restricting access to municipal resources, institutionalizing nationalist organizations, and mobilizing symbolic parades, constitute shared expressions of GIPD across cities in the context of ethno-national conflict. At the same time, it underscores key differences in how these processes unfold, shaped by the strength of local resistance, the intensity of ethno-national tensions and local actors, and the urban ethos of each city. Whereas Jaffa presents more covert and discursively mediated forms of displacement, Lydda exemplifies a more direct, institutionalized, and securitized approach. Taken together, these findings advance an emerging research agenda that views cities not only as sites of socioeconomic restructuring but also as arenas of geopolitical and ethno-national contestation. By placing empirical material from Israeli contested cities into dialogue with urban political theory, specifically GIPD literature, the study broadens the analytical toolkit for understanding how minority political agency is constrained, reshaped, or resisted under conditions of gentrification and conflict. Moreover, by comparing cases within a single national framework, it underscores the importance of examining urban conditions that either allow space for minority political expression, create barriers to GIPD, or intensify political displacement. As demonstrated, even within the same state, characterized by deep ethno-national tensions, cities differ in how GIPD is expressed and resisted.
Finally, the findings carry important normative and practical implications. Studying political displacement within ethno-national conflict contexts is especially crucial because minority groups in these settings often face heightened structural disadvantages within national political institutions. Local political power, however, can help counter national-level marginalization and the framing of minorities as national “others” by enabling meaningful participation and control over daily life (Stone 1989; Owens and Rich 2003). Conversely, when political displacement intensifies at the urban level in conflict-affected cities, it not only undermines local political participation and diminishes residents’ sense of belonging (Betancur 2002), thereby weakening core democratic principles (Dahl 1971), but also risks escalating broader national unrest, instability, and protests beyond the local context. The spring/May 2021 unrest in Israel and similar struggles over affordable housing and spatial displacement of minorities demonstrate how local disenfranchisement can quickly escalate into wider political instability. Recognizing and addressing these dynamics is therefore essential for advancing minority inclusion, urban justice, and democratic peace. Thus, mapping the expressions of political displacement efforts and developing effective response strategies is critical to strengthening minority political agency, rebuilding institutional trust, upholding democratic values, and promoting conflict resolution and domestic peace (Davenport 2007). By uncovering how GIPD manifests as part of ethno-national struggles over sovereignty, identity, and belonging, this study argues for rethinking political displacement as more than a class- or culture-based process. It advances the need for a comparative framework that integrates contested cities across diverse geopolitical contexts, thereby providing a more comprehensive and generalizable account of how gentrification reshapes not only urban space but also the political capacities of minority communities.
Footnotes
Funding
The author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.