Abstract
This study examines how the Palestinian Arab cultural elite in Israel, divided between institutional and custodian currents, navigates the intersecting pressures of national identity, political exclusion, and evolving cultural regimes. The findings reveal that the cultural elite is far from monolithic, comprising two interwoven yet distinct camps, each grounded in a common national identity but shaped by different generational experiences. Custodian elites, an older cohort formed when culture served as partisan resistance, remain rooted in party-affiliated associations and traditional literature, investing their ideological capital in community-driven, non-formal initiatives to preserve Palestinian collective memory. Institutional elites have emerged amid recent global social and political shifts. This younger, formally educated group operates within NGOs, municipal bodies and universities, combining commitment to the Palestinian narrative with liberal and cosmopolitan values, and harnessing digital media, multilingual networks, and diverse funding to drive policy-focused educational and cultural reforms. The findings also reveal that despite divergent orientations, these camps engage in dynamic exchange. Institutional actors draw on custodian narrative practices to legitimize innovation, while custodians utilize institutional platforms to expand the reach of Palestinian narratives, showing how progressive cosmopolitanism and identity-centered nationalism co-produce a multifaceted cultural leadership under Israeli exclusion. Two clusters of challenges are identified. Custodian elites face declining legitimacy and funding shortages as their traditional patriotic discourse loses appeal among younger audiences. Institutional elites contend with mistrust in Arab society due to partnerships with state bodies and dependence on government funding. Both groups share two obstacles: inter-elite struggles that dilute authority and the absence of robust cultural infrastructure or a coherent cultural vision.
Keywords
Introduction
After a long period governed by political and cultural defeat and profound social crisis, new political and social ideas have begun to emerge within Arab Palestinian society in Israel (henceforth: Arab society) in recent decades. These ideas are not monolithic and their undercurrents reflect unique cultural and social characteristics, primarily, Palestinian identity, civic identity, globalization and modernization processes, and the emergence of a middle class among elites. This development has highlighted the varying approaches and inherent disparities among and within the elites, including the Palestinian cultural elite in Israel (henceforth: the cultural elite) in politics, culture, social issues, and in terms of complex and profound changes to social structures and prevalent beliefs (Jamal, 2017).
These shifts reveal divergent perspectives within this cultural elite, particularly on questions of identity, authority, and boundaries of cultural expression. They also illustrate that the challenges faced by members of the Arab cultural elite are not only shaped by exclusionary state structures but also emerge from within their own society in the form of ideological, religious, and generational contestation. Such internal dynamics underscore the importance of studying cultural elites not only as agents situated against dominant power structures but also as contested actors within their own communities.
Despite their critical role in shaping cultural identity and power, cultural elites have received surprisingly limited scholarly attention – particularly in relation to their formation, reproduction, and everyday practices across diverse sociopolitical contexts. In contrast to the rich body of work on political elites (e.g. Mills, 1956), economic elites (e.g. Nau, 2013), and military elites (e.g. Ates, 2024), research on cultural elites is comparatively sparse. Where it does exist, it often emphasizes historical trajectories (Ljunggren, 2017) or their influence within intellectual institutions such as academia and media (Brint et al., 2020), offering limited insight into the present-day realities of these actors – particularly within minority groups and divided societies.
This limitation becomes more apparent when considering the sociopolitical environments in which many cultural elites operate. Much of the existing literature is also confined to western liberal democracies or stable contexts (Blondel, 1997), sidelining cultural elites in conflict-ridden or transitional societies. Their potential roles in negotiating, bridging, or exacerbating tensions in multi-ethnic and multi-religious settings, where both cultural authorities are often contested, are largely unexplored. Although political elites in transitional regimes have attracted substantial scholarly interest, cultural figures such as artists and intellectuals continue to be underexamined as agents of resistance, negotiation, or reconciliation. Neoliberalism’s transformative effects on globalisation, digital media, and cultural elite formation are insufficiently addressed.
This study seeks to address these gaps by examining how cultural elites function in conflict-ridden, multi-ethnic societies characterized by racialized exclusion, marginalization, and persisting national conflict. It explores how these elites are shaped not only by exclusionary state structures and policies but also by internal tensions surrounding identity, legitimacy, and cultural authority. To investigate these dynamics, the article presents a case study of the Arab cultural elite, revealing it not as a cohesive or monolithic entity, but as a fragmented and multilayered body embedded within a society marked by internal social divisions and positioned within a political order dominated by a state that imposes systemic marginalization.
In doing so, the study highlights how different segments within this elite operate under dual pressures: externally, through constraints imposed by the state, and internally, through contestations of cultural roles, representational authority, and ideological direction. Focusing specifically on two intersecting formations, revolutionary custodians and reformist institutionalists, as elaborated in the following sections, the analysis reveals how the Arab cultural elite negotiates constrained agency and contested legitimacy by employing various strategies to achieve impact, recognition, and legitimacy both within a marginalized minority community and in relation to a hegemonic state apparatus.
To investigate how these dynamics are experienced and understood by cultural elite actors, and how they interpret and navigate their roles, we employed a narrative qualitative methodology that examines how individuals construct meaning through personal stories and collective histories (Poerwandari, 2021). Semi-structured interviews were conducted with 23 influential figures in the Arab cultural arena in Israel. The interviews explored their biographical and career trajectories, artistic and personal choices, perceived challenges and tensions in their work and communities, coping strategies, and their visions for sociopolitical change at both local and national levels.
We first outline the theoretical framework, drawing on the sociology of elites to define cultural elites and examine the political and social forces that shape their status, characteristics, and challenges. We then explore the development of the Arab cultural elite in Israel. Next, we present the research methodology, followed by an analysis of the empirical findings. Finally, we reflect on the broader significance of these findings, considering the role of cultural elites in contexts marked by racialized sociopolitical marginalization and internal fragmentation.
Theoretical Framework: The Sociology of Elites
The sociology of elites has significantly transformed over time. Initially prominent in the 1960s and early 1970s, scholarly engagement with elite theory declined, as shifting social and intellectual paradigms challenged its relevance. Foundational thinkers such as Mosca (1939), Mills (1956), and Pareto (1963) laid the theoretical groundwork for understanding elite dynamics, emphasizing the concentration of power among small, influential groups. Expanding on this view, Mills (1956: 20) argued that elites are “in command of the major hierarchies and organizations of modern society [. . .] and opinion-makers.” However, the concept of elites faced criticism due to its vague definition and the methodological challenges of identifying and measuring the size and influence of elites.
A renewed interest in elite studies emerged following the 2008 global financial crisis, which redirected scholarly focus from national class-based stratification to global patterns of inequality and the interconnected roles of economic, political, and cultural elites (Veen, 2017). Studying elites, therefore, entails examining who controls, values, and distributes key societal resources. Building on this approach, elites are commonly understood as small and selective groups of skilled individuals who occupy leading positions within central institutions and hold the authority to make decisions that significantly shape sociopolitical outcomes (Higley and Pakulski, 2012).
This resurgence of interest has not only reaffirmed the relevance of elite theory but has also prompted scholars to reconsider how elites today differ from those in the past. Contemporary elites, shaped by decades of political, economic, and technological change exhibit distinct characteristics compared to their historical counterparts. According to Bernstein and Swan (2007), there are three main differences: today’s elites are more affluent; they dominate newer sectors such as finance and professions, and they are more cosmopolitan and geographically dispersed.
As for the term “cultural elite,” Bourdieu (1986) distinguishes this group from other types of elites by their possession of cultural capital – knowledge, education, skills, and other assets that are valued within a particular social context. This framework emphasizes that cultural elites are not simply “consumers” of culture but also its producers and arbiters, actively shaping what is recognized as legitimate knowledge and creativity. Seemingly drawing on Bourdieu’s distinction, Fodor et al. (1995: 786) narrowed and specified the scope of a cultural elite: Consists of the top executive positions in mass media, science, the heads of the leading cultural associations as well as of the top publishing houses, etc.
Extending this perspective, Brint et al. (2020) emphasize the cultural elite’s ability to manipulate symbolic media across academia, the arts, and mass communication, defining their influence not only by cultural capital but also by their prestige or popularity within the public sphere. They further note that the impact of cultural elites extends to shaping societal norms and values, as these actors often balance their inherent exclusivity with a professed commitment to openness, tolerance, and equality.
In contrast, Yasavievna (2020: 97) turns attention inward, highlighting the insular and exclusive nature of elite cultural production. He defines the cultural elite as a subculture of privileged groups of society, which is characterized by value-semantic isolation, closeness; the elite culture asserts itself as the creativity of a narrow circle of ‘the highest professionals’, the understanding of which is available to an equally narrow circle of highly educated connoisseurs.
However, though definitions of the cultural elite vary, Yasavievna (2020) identifies five core defining characteristics: constancy (that is, the products of elite culture do not depend on historical time and space); the need for spiritual work; high requirements for human competence; intensive spiritual work and art criticism sense; and striving to create absolute ideals of perfection.
We define the cultural elite in this research as an exclusive group composed of artists and influential individuals within Arab cultural institutions in Israel. Members of this elite do not hold official, political-cultural or economic positions of power. Rather, they operate within a distinct cultural arena and struggle not for direct economic and political resources but for recognition of narrative, legitimacy, and against the cultural hegemony, the shaping of cultural tastes and national-social authority. They are distinguished not only by their cultural capital and creative authority but also by their dual role: they produce and arbitrate cultural meaning within their own community while actively engaging with and seeking to influence broader sociopolitical discourse and institutional frameworks. This definition acknowledges both the inward social exclusivity and institutionally limited outward institutional impact of the cultural elite. Its impact over public discourse is unmistakable, as is its capacity to navigate, negotiate, and even challenge the boundaries between a minority society and state power.
That said, cultural elites, situated between their own communities and state institutions, often find themselves caught between competing demands, expectations, and allegiances, complicating and limiting their ability to shape and influence sociopolitical discourse. Bourdieu’s theory of cultural production offers a framework for understanding this situation by emphasizing that the field of cultural production is a relatively autonomous social arena in which cultural agents such as artists, authors and cultural institutions compete over symbolic capital such as recognition and legitimacy. This theory posits that a struggle is playing out between cultural production for the sake of art and cultural production fueled by economic considerations, market-driven tastes and preferences and a specific cultural policy (Born, 2010).
Ljunggren (2017) argues that the cultural elite is at times “under siege,” facing intensifying pressures on multiple fronts, as many of the assets underpinning their cultural capital and authority have lost value due to far-reaching societal transformations in recent decades. High culture, for example, once perceived as exclusive and highly esteemed, is now increasingly met with skepticism or even anti-elitist sentiment. In this shifting landscape, many cultural elites, especially younger generations, have adopted more eclectic tastes, functioning as cultural omnivores rather than remaining in a strictly highbrow universe.
This diversification in taste reflects a broader trend of cultural democratization, where once-exclusive forms of culture are now more widely accessible. As a result, the clear symbolic boundaries that historically set elites apart have become less distinct. Some scholars argue that this shift among cultural elites has been accompanied by a turn toward more materialistic orientation. In this view, economic gain is increasingly prioritized alongside, or even above, the pursuit of cultural production. Similar changes are mirrored in other domains of cultural capital and authority. Education, for instance, has lost much of its exclusivity due to the expansion of the education system; and the cultural field itself has begun to lose its autonomy. Highbrow culture is becoming de-institutionalized and increasingly shaped by the marketplace of ideas and the transactional logic of economic capital, while political elites use culture as a means of promoting political and ideological values (Adams, 2004). Together, these developments suggest that the cultural elite has collapsed.
Context: The Cultural Elite of Arab-Palestinian Society in Israel
The Arab Palestinians in Israel, referred to here as Arab society, are a national minority that emerged involuntarily from the 1948 Nakba, when about 150,000 Palestinians remained within the newly established State of Israel and became citizens. By 2023, they numbered approximately 1,627,050 – around 17.2% of Israel’s population – of whom 84.5% are Muslims, 7.8% Christians, and 7.7% Druze (Khalaileh et al., 2023). Mar’i (1978) contends that the Nakba left this minority without political leadership or a cultural elite, a reality exacerbated by the depopulation of key Palestinian cultural centers such as Jaffa and Haifa. In the immediate aftermath, most of the remaining cultural elite had only high school education, significantly diminishing their capacity for leadership. Nevertheless, despite military rule and restrictive measures imposed until 1966, an Arab elite gradually re-emerged. It was characterized by a patriarchal discourse whereby men are positioned at the top of the elitist pyramid and women at its base. This arrangement persists despite the social and political shifts in Arab society.
Initially organized through political parties, Arab society developed a political agenda centered on resisting state policies and practices of racism (Jamal, 2017) in response to Israel’s approach to the cultural field as an inseparable part of the mechanisms of control and erasure and its construction of a cultural arena justifying its majority group’s narrative (Sabbagh-Khoury, 2018). The state turned to settler-colonial cultural production grounded in four key elements: creating a national narrative justifying settlement; constructing cultural institutions that provide a new collective identity; espousing the majority group’s symbols and renaming Arab villages, assigning them Hebrew names, denying and marginalizing native residents’ culture, and censoring minority cultural production (Algazi, 2017).
In the 1950s and 1960s, the Communist Party served as the principal platform for the cultural elite, functioning both as a political arena and a cultural incubator. It shaped a cosmopolitan-ideological culture that identified with communist discourse and revolutionary groups in the region. Within this space, influential cultural figures concentrated on reinforcing the Palestinian national identity and narrative (Ghanem, 2004). Cultural production at the time was largely confined to poetry, short fiction, and opinion essays in the Arabic daily newspaper Al-Ittihad in Israel, thematically centered on homeland, identity, nostalgia, and loss, and written exclusively in Arabic (Shalhat, 2006). While this framework provided a vital platform for cultural expression, it was also, as Karkabi (2018) notes, constrained by partisan boundaries that limited engagement with certain political questions as well as issues concerning religion and citizenship, a criticism that remains relevant for later periods as well. Because the Arab cultural elite emerged from political party institutions during this period, many researchers (such as Kymlicka, 2008) regard the organizational intellectuals operating in the cultural field as a part of the cultural elite. This role is therefore not restricted to artistic production but extends to the production of new ideas that challenge the political and cultural hegemony in Israel.
Building on the literary and journalistic foundations of the previous decades, the 1970s witnessed an expansion of cultural activity and modes of expression, accompanied by a heightened sense of national pride. While literature remained significant, production expanded to include documentary and feature films aimed at documenting and shaping the Palestinian narrative. In this later period, the cultural elite occupied a prominent position in Arab society, regarded as revitalizing Palestinian culture and embodying nonviolent cultural resistance, which at the time was the Arab minority’s sole available form of struggle (Ghanem, 2004).
The 1970s and 1980s marked a turning point as the influence of the cultural elite declined and political resistance took precedence, led by a new Arab generation educated in Israeli academia and focused on civil integration. A strengthened political elite emerged, accompanied by the establishment of representative bodies such as the Committee of Arab Mayors (1974) and the High Follow-Up Committee (1982). This shift continued well into the 1990s and was underscored by the 1993 Oslo Accords signed between Israel and the PLO, which further redefined priorities within Arab-Palestinian society in Israel. The Oslo Accords also led to a broader recognition of Zionism not as a settler-colonial but a national movement, framing the conflict as a national conflict between Jews and Arabs (Sabbagh-Khoury, 2018).
The 1990s were marked by significant social and political shifts worldwide, notably the spread of liberalism and the rise of the Arab middle class in Israel. Arab society moved from a traditional, locally oriented structure toward embracing global and western values of modernization and neoliberalism (Haidar, 2019). These transformations influenced the cultural elite, which connected political concerns with social aspirations, promoting a civil discourse aimed at improving the political, social, and economic standing of Arab society. A new intellectual elite emerged, reshaping cultural-political realities and redefining relations with the state through the establishment of NGOs (Jamal, 2017) and cultural institutions such as theaters, galleries, and similar venues (Shalhat, 2006).
Many Arabs pursued liberal arts studies in Israeli institutions and abroad, particularly in Europe and the United States, gaining cultural skills, western values, and cosmopolitan perspectives that informed the cultural elite’s vision. Cultural production increasingly targeted western audiences, functioning as a form of “nonviolent resistance” to express the Arab minority’s complex realities, foster international solidarity, and develop global cultural networks (Karkabi, 2018). Karkabi characterizes this generation as thematically and aesthetically diverse, using the internet to establish independent cultural spaces with political dimensions and form new cultural communities addressing issues far broader than the exclusively national concerns of earlier decades.
Sabbagh-Khoury (2018) argues that the momentous events of the 1990s returned the settler-colonial paradigm to the public agenda: the Oslo Accords’ failure, the absence of a Palestinian national project and Palestinian residents of Israel’s rise in stature within Israeli society and within the Palestinian–Israeli conflict. She claims that during this period and in its aftermath the Arab elite’s cultural production was shaped by interactions with Jewish Israelis and integration into Israeli society while also preserving its national identity. Sabbagh-Khoury’s work offers a framework for comprehending the Arab cultural elite’s role in drafting the High Follow-Up Committee for Arab citizens of Israel’s vision documents (2006), which sought to formalize the Arab citizens’ relationship with the state while underscoring both partnership and recognition of Palestinian culture.
Haifa has become a focal point for much of this cultural transformation. Karkabi (2018) describes the city as the capital of young Palestinian culture in Israel, marked by a wide range of artistic initiatives, cultural venues and events. These initiatives foster an Arab community engaged in artistic and creative production, while also providing spaces for cultural experimentation, such as the Khashabi Theater and the Arab Culture Association. This environment has contributed to an identity that combines Palestinian nationality with Israeli citizenship (Jaraisy and Agbaria, 2023) and has influenced Arab schools, where increasing numbers of students pursue art, theater, and other creative disciplines (Karkabi, 2018).
To conclude, the Arab cultural elite in Israel has consistently adapted to changing political, social, and economic conditions while maintaining a complex and often tense relationship with political leadership. Originating in the Communist Party of the 1950s and 1960s, it has reinforced Palestinian identity through literature and journalism, albeit constrained by partisan boundaries (Shalhat, 2006). In the 1970s, its repertoire expanded into film to shape the Palestinian narrative, but by the 1980s and 1990s, political leadership became the primary arena of its struggle (Jamal, 2017). Globalization and the rise of the Arab middle class fostered new intellectuals, non-profits, and cultural institutions, with Haifa emerging as a hub of young Palestinian creativity (Karkabi, 2018). The elite also played a cultural-educational role, fostering patriotic consciousness and a sense of unity beyond family, clan, and sectarian divides (Sorek, 2020), yet critics such as Drag (1996) accused the elite of conservatism and perpetuating a “culture of defeatism.”
Methodology
This study adopts a qualitative research methodology, employing narrative analysis as its principal mode of inquiry. Grounded in interpretive and naturalist traditions, narrative analysis seeks to uncover the meanings individuals attribute to their experiences, life trajectories, and histories, and how they shape personal and collective identities (Poerwandari, 2021). This approach is particularly suited to examining marginalized communities, where personal stories often function as memory, identity negotiation, and resistance.
Data were collected through semi-structured interviews with 23 individuals in leadership roles within cultural and artistic institutions across civil society, municipal bodies, and the private sector, as well as artists, writers, and poets. Participants (16 men and 7 women) held academic degrees in cultural fields and had between 6 and 20 years of professional experience. Age range: interviewees’ ages ranged from 30 to 60 years; 11 participants (8 men and 3 women) were aged 51–60, and 12 participants (8 men and 4 women) were aged 30–45. They were selected using snowball sampling to reflect the diversity of cultural domains and the geographic, religious and gender heterogeneity of Arab society in Israel. Four follow-up interviews were conducted to further explore themes and validate emerging interpretations. Interviews, lasting 60–100 minutes, were conducted in Arabic, audio-recorded with consent, and transcribed. Most took place in participants’ homes or offices, providing familiar settings that encouraged openness and reflection.
Questions addressed interviewees’ understanding of historical and sociopolitical transformations influencing their work; their role within their communities and in relation to the state; and challenges and opportunities encountered in both areas. Data were analyzed using Braun and Clarke’s (2008) thematic framework to identify and code recurring patterns in participants’ accounts.
Findings
The Arab Cultural Elite: Characteristics, Roles, and Forms of Capital
Composition and Evolution of the Arab Cultural Elite
Several interviewees described the Arab cultural elite as divided into two main categories: one rooted in nationalist ideology and another defined by professional expertise. M.R. explains: “Whoever is familiar with the area distinguishes between two kinds of Arab cultural elites. An elite with a nationalist ideology and a professional elite. Each has its own characteristics and roles.” S.A. points to social and political developments as drivers of change in this composition: “The social and political shifts, such as the middle class, education levels and globalization growing stronger have given rise to a modern and professional cultural group alongside the traditional group.”
While the Custodian–Institutionalist distinction is grounded in the data and articulated there in various phrasings, we employ it in this article as an analytic continuum rather than a fixed dichotomy. It serves as a heuristic device to illuminate patterned orientations and strategies without reducing actors to rigid or mutually exclusive categories. This analytic move is intended to make visible a range of sensibilities and modes of engagement.
The Custodians: The Nationalist Cultural Elite
Interviewees described this group as composed mainly of veteran artists, poets, and writers shaped by a political climate in which culture served as a tool for national resistance and partisan engagement. Four characteristics emerged: old cohort, nationalist, secular ideology, and partisan.
Old Cohort
R.Z. highlights the generational gap: “This elite belongs to the previous generation [. . .] This group did not keep up with technology and uses outdated means for its struggle, like protests and party newspaper op-eds.” Offering a different viewpoint, L.Z. argues that this group barely participates in the activities organized by the Arab cultural NGOs: “The older generation still believes in political parties as a platform for cultural-political production, less in NGOs compared to the younger generation.”
Nationalist Values
Most interviewees noted that the Custodians espouse nationalist values and regard cultural production as a means of political resistance. According to R.Z.: “It adopts a nationalist secular discourse and perceives culture as a vehicle for political resistance. As such, its cultural production focuses on the national narrative.”
Similarly, S.M.: “The Custodians adopt a discourse of Palestinian patriotism. It belongs to an older generation, which experienced many events that threatened its national identity, such as Land Day.”
Secular Ideology
The group embraces nationalist values alongside secular and liberal values. M.H. says: “Characterized by nationalist-secular values, this group supports separation of church and state, minority rights and strengthening women’s status, and so it often clashes with the religious elite.”
S.H. notes that the group’s secular-liberal values stem from the older generation’s affiliation with secular political parties, and the effect of sociopolitical shifts: “This group is characterized by secular values because of its historical ties to secular parties and social and political changes in Arab society, such as the rise of values like globalization.”
Partisanship
Interviewees emphasized that, historically speaking, party affiliation was not just an ideological stance but a practical avenue for cultural activity. M.B. says: “During the 1960s and until the 1980s, there were no platforms for cultural production other than party institutions, especially the Communist Party. Therefore, members of the elite belonged to this party, regarding its newspaper and clubs as a platform for cultural production and for mobilizing audiences.” S.H. offers a personal perspective on how party structures enabled artistic work: “I belonged to the Communist Party because it provided me with a platform for my plays to be performed for its members when it was difficult to find theatres.”
Roles of the Custodians
Interviewers identified two primary roles for this group. Both roles are rooted in their historical mission and characteristics: safeguarding the national identity and preserving the heritage of political parties as cultural institutions.
Custodians of the National Identity
A.K. frames this role as a response to shifts among the younger generation toward greater civil integration: “In the past, we experienced attempts to exclude our narrative. Now it is our role to protect the nationalist identity, in part because the young generation has normalized its civil identity. We don’t object to this generation’s integration, if nationalist values and collective memory are protected.”
S.M. emphasizes the importance of instilling national values, particularly given political developments in Israel that marginalize the Palestinian narrative: “One of our main efforts is to instill national values, especially given the current political constellation, given the many racist laws recently introduced, such as the Nation-State Law.”
Preserving Party Heritage
While globalization has grown stronger, M.R. expresses concern about the decline of Arab political parties, which he views as essential for promoting nationalist values: In recent years we have witnessed a very dangerous phenomenon: the decline of Arab political parties. It is our role to preserve this heritage, not just because we belong to the party but also because these parties instill national values in the young people.
H.K. highlights the historical role of parties as cultural patrons: There aren’t many youth movements and organizations in Arab society. This is why the parties are the cornerstone of preserving our national identity{..}Historically speaking, the parties support poets and writers and give them venues to perform their national creative work.
Overall, the ideological nationalist cultural elite, which are labeled in this article as the Custodians, is primarily composed of an older generation of authors, poets, and public intellectuals who are less embedded in formal institutions yet deeply engaged in the public sphere. They are predominantly secular in orientation and firmly rooted in a nationalist ideology, shaping their cultural production around historical memory, and the preservation of collective identity. Their affiliations often extend to political parties, reflecting both ideological alignment and a legacy of partisanship that historically provided them with platforms for expression and mobilization.
The Custodians play a dual role that unites cultural defense with institutional preservation. On the one hand, they safeguard the nationalist narrative, resisting political suppression and state efforts to erase Palestinian culture and shape a new cultural landscape in the service of the dominant group, ensuring younger Arab-Palestinian generations remain connected to nationalist values and historical memory. On the other hand, they work to maintain the legacy of political parties because these institutions have historically served as crucial platforms for cultural production, identity formation, and community mobilization.
The Institutionalists: The Professional Cultural Elite
The professional cultural elite, termed Institutionalists in this article, are primarily composed of academically trained, politically aware cultural figures. The group is shaped by global social and political changes, while maintaining a strong sense of national belonging. Interviewees identified three defining characteristics: national identity, cultural-professional capital, and cosmopolitan culture.
National Identity
Like the Custodians, the Institutionalists maintain a connection to the nationalist narrative, though their approach is shaped by generational context and exposure to diverse cultural influences. H.K. notes: “As a younger generation, we also sense a belonging to the homeland and to history. Some of the plays, poems and paintings we produce focus on the national narrative.” A.A. stresses that political realities in Israel have reinforced this national commitment: “It’s true that the younger generation is open to different cultures, but we’re not giving up our national cultural, especially in a reality where there are attempts to legislate the discrimination and racism against us.”
Cultural and Professional Capital
A distinguishing feature of the Institutionalists is the professional and cultural capital gained through advanced academic training in Israel and abroad. F.B. links this directly to globalization: “Globalization plays an important role in building capital because it enabled this generation to pursue degrees in the field of culture in Israeli academia, as well as in Europe and the United States.” This capital enables members of this younger generation to move into leadership roles and connect with international cultural bodies. L.Z. elaborates: Professional capital has opened new workplaces to us, including professional-cultural institutions, such as executive directors of non-profit organizations and directors of cultural departments and libraries in local councils [. . .] This capital makes mobility among various institutions possible, and it can be used to build relationships with international cultural institutions.
Active Cosmopolitan Culture
Exposure to global cultures has fostered a cosmopolitan dimension alongside the Institutionalists’ national and civil identities. A.K. describes this blend: The younger generation was influenced by global cultures and has even adopted many values from these cultures, such as modernization and liberalism. It has also been familiarized with Western cultural production, such as Mozart’s music, and in doing so it shaped a cosmopolitan identity alongside its national identity and its civil identity.
A.R. adds that studying abroad helped her build a dedicated, international cultural network through which she is active and able to raise funds for cultural production: Studying in Europe and the United States and meeting people in the field of culture worldwide has helped us build a social-culture network that has supported Arab cultural production, such as philanthropic foundations.
Roles of the Institutionalists
The interviewees identified three central roles of the institutionalist professional group, each reflecting the group’s defining characteristics: sociopolitical, promoting liberal political values; professional, building cultural-professional networks and establishing cultural production companies; and educational, reshaping Arab education.
Sociopolitical Role
Many interviewees emphasized that the Institutionalists contribute to Arab society by instilling liberal political values while preserving national identity. For A.M., this role emerges from the profound transformation of Arab society from rural and traditional to urban and modern: We are experiencing urbanization, transitioning from a traditional rural society to an urban society[. . .]Previously, the cultural elite was focused on preserving the Palestinian narrative, but alongside that role, we now play a politically liberal role that includes universal and democratic values.
However, M.R. warns that liberal ideals may clash with Arab society’s traditional and conservative values, potentially threatening its social cohesion: Liberal political values clash with the values of Arab society, which is traditional and conservative, very concerned with family and sectarian-religious belonging. That is why we are trying to promote this carefully, without harming our social solidarity.
Professional Role
The Institutionalists aim to strengthen Arab cultural production through two main strategies: developing cultural-professional networks and establishing cultural production companies.
Cultural-professional Networks
L.Z. shares a vision of forming a collective network to enhance cooperation among Arab cultural organizations, and between these organizations and state institutions: “The role of the cultural elite is to form a cultural-professional network, to empower itself and encourage collaborations between various cultural organizations [. . .][W]e can build professional relations with institutions of the state and develop cultural life.” S.M. regards recent government funding initiatives as opportunities for strengthening this network: “Government decisions allocate funds for cultural life, and our role is to find a professional cultural union through which we can raise funds, adapt programs to the needs of Arab society.
Establishing Cultural Production Companies
Several interviewees stressed the need to reduce reliance on government and municipal funding by developing independent income sources. M.B. shares his experience launching a production company in 2013: I started one in 2013. I met Hani Asaad, and we talked about how our company would distribute his film Omar, which won a prize at the Cannes Film Festival. We were unsure of how to proceed, but I have to say we succeeded in screening the film in most Arab towns.
Similarly, R.Z. argues for financial self-reliance: “Government Resolution 922 and 550 do include budgets for cultural production. But I think we shouldn’t rely solely on these budgets. We should take responsibility, establish production companies.”
Educational Role
The Institutionalists also regard themselves as agents of educational transformation, aiming to align Arab education with 21st-century skills. A.K. says: “Our role is to adapt Arab education to 21st-century competencies and develop an education system that cultivates technological and artistic competencies. Arab education should be enriched by painting, creative writing, theatre and music classes.” S.M. describes a concrete initiative in this direction-preparatory theater training in Nazareth: “Eight years ago, an academy was founded in Nazareth that teaches a one-year course to prepare for theater school. We try to train students and provide them with knowledge before they enter this academy.”
The Institutionalists embody a younger, professionalized, and globally connected generation of Arab cultural figures who balance nationalist commitment with cosmopolitan openness. Through their cultural-professional capital, they occupy influential positions in institutions, expand cultural networks, and engage with both local and international audiences. This combination of nationalist affiliation, professional expertise, and global cultural fluency positions them as cultural mediators, linking Arab traditions to transnational cultural currents.
The Institutionalists’ roles reflect a synthesis of their professional expertise, political awareness, and cosmopolitan exposure. Socially and politically, they promote liberal values such as human rights and gender equality, navigating the challenge of integrating these ideals into a conservative social framework. Professionally, they work to institutionalize Arab cultural life through collaborative networks and independent production companies. Educationally, they aim to modernize Arab education by fostering artistic and technological competencies and expanding access to both local and global cultural heritage.
Drawing on the characteristics and roles attributed to the two groups, the Custodians and the Institutionalists, a comparative analysis is presented in Table 1.
Comparative analysis: the characteristics and roles attributed to the two groups-the Custodians and the Institutionalists.
Challenges to the Arab Cultural Elite
The interviews reflect that there are both unique and common challenges to the Arab cultural elite groups. In this section, we shall first present the unique challenges, followed by the common challenges.
Unique Challenges
Challenges to the Custodians
Two key challenges emerged as unique to this group: declining public legitimacy and difficulty in raising funds.
Declining public legitimacy
Interviewees noted that the group’s traditional patriotic discourse is losing relevance among younger generations who favor globalist values, creating a widening generational gap and weakening public support. A.B. observes: Apparently, the patriotic discourse doesn’t challenge the younger generation, which is adopting globalist values. This is why our public legitimacy is eroding[. . .] the younger generation is moving farther away from us. It does not want a struggle carried out through protests. It wants a struggle on social media.
S.A. adds that state censorship further discourages participation in cultural-political activities, reinforcing the legitimacy crisis: We initiate many activities at the public library but it’s hard to get people to rally and attend these activities when these are cultural political activities, such as a presentation for a book about Land Day. People don’t come because of censorship and the current political climate.
Difficulty raising funds
The group’s partisan orientation limits its access to external funding sources, leaving it heavily dependent on party budgets. M.R. explains: “This group relies on party budgets for its cultural production. Because it’s an ideological group, it’s hard for it to connect to international philanthropy.” A.K. adds: “We don’t follow technological developments and business models for distribution. And this makes raising funds difficult. We’re stuck with our old means, including the party newspaper.”
Challenges to the Institutionalists
The interviews point to three unique challenges for this group: mistrust within Arab society, reliance on state budgets, and complex bureaucracy.
Mistrust within Arab Society
Interviewees noted that cooperation with state institutions can raise suspicion, sometimes being perceived as normalization. F.B. rejects this view: “I teach an art program for kids. This program is funded by the state. The students draw Arab villages and pictures against violence. We endow our children with values through this program.” H.A. adds that mistrust also stems from efforts to appeal to different audiences: “The suspicions against us result from our attempts to bridge the gap between the different audiences [. . .] We are constantly trying to suit our production to various tastes. One audience is nationalist, another audience is looking for entertainment, and yet another audience wants international productions.”
Reliance on State Budgets
The group’s dependence on state funding limits its political freedom due to censorship and funding criteria. Z.H. explains that support for politically sensitive content is often denied: “There is no funding for musical performances that have to do with national issues or plays that promote the Palestinian narrative. Government funding is generally for entertainment and holiday parades.”
R.B. argues that despite these constraints, reliance on state budgets is unavoidable due to limited local funding: “Without state funding, our institutions cannot survive, and we will not have any cultural production.”
Complex Bureaucracy
Applying for tenders and managing reports is a significant burden for small institutions. L.Z. notes that bureaucratic requirements consume resources that many Arab institutions lack: “Government ministries’ tenders and reports are an institutional barrier to being awarded the tenders. It’s a lengthy process and requires human resources to apply for the tenders and monitor their progress. The Arab institutions are small and lack the necessary manpower.” M.B. adds that administrative demands leave little time for creative work: “My colleagues and I feel like secretaries and not executive directors. We must deal with filling out forms, quantitative evaluations and price quotes, and we deal less with cultural content.”
Common Challenges
Despite differences in characteristics and roles, the interviews identified two challenges shared by both groups: an inter-elite struggle and limited influence.
Inter-elite Conflict
Tensions arise between the cultural elite and three other elites: the traditional Arab political elite, the Arab religious elite, and the Jewish cultural elite.
The Traditional Political Arab Elite
Relations are strained due to disappointment with political leaders’ inability to advance a collective sociopolitical vision. M.B. highlights this frustration: “The relations between the political and the cultural elites are very tense because of disappointment with the attempt to formulate a political-cultural vision for Arab society, the disintegration of the Joint List and political unity.” T.F. adds: “The nationalist group’s partisanship didn’t prevent friction with the politicians. We all seek political unity and a common vision. Division and competition among the parties increase the gap between cultural production and the political parties.”
Tense Relations with the Arab Religious Elite
Liberal or secular values promoted by the cultural elite often clash with religious norms, limiting the scope for critical artistic discourse. A.A. points to conflicts over gender-related themes in art: The tension between secular-liberal discourse and traditional-religious discourse is significant and affects the ability to pose criticism in art. For example, there was conflict around plays dealing with women’s issues and right to be liberated from dependence on men. In some towns, these plays were canceled to maintain local social solidarity.
M.R. stresses the importance of fostering pluralism to bridge these divides: “We’re a society comprised of a variety of sects, and various political and social views. That’s why it’s important to lead a process of liberalization based on pluralism and freedom.”
Tense Relations with the Jewish Cultural Elite
Cooperation with Jewish cultural institutions is viewed as important but often requires compromise on the Palestinian narrative. M.B. resists such concessions while advocating for building cosmopolitan cultural capital through globalization: Joint cultural production with the Israeli cultural elite is important but it usually requires us to give up our narrative. On the one hand, I’m opposed to cultural separatism; on the other hand, I don’t want to compromise [. . .] we should develop our cosmopolitan cultural capital.
S.A. notes that political shifts have made such partnerships more difficult: In the past, the Jewish cultural elite espoused a Leftist discourse and worked to strengthen Jewish–Arab partnership. But now, because of the political crisis, it’s hard to build such partnerships when Arab artists are required to give up their national narrative.
Challenges to Impact
Both groups struggle to influence political culture due to the absence of public cultural venues and the lack of a collective cultural vision.
Absence of Public Cultural Venues
The shortage of theaters and cultural centers limits the ability to engage the public and promote change. A.A. explains: “The lack of public venues such as theatres, auditoriums and concert halls is destructive not just to cultural life, but to our ability to influence public opinion.” Z.H. warns that privatization of cultural spaces would further marginalize disadvantaged groups: “The lack of public cultural venues could privatize cultural life, and that would hurt marginalized groups. People belonging to the lower classes can’t enjoy cultural productions, and this means we have limited influence on these people.”
Lack of a Cultural Vision
The absence of a shared cultural strategy hinders cooperation and weakens influence. S.A. calls for drafting such a vision: In 2006, mayors and executive directors of non-profit organizations drafted a political vision for Arab society. There is no reason not to draft a cultural vision as well. It might serve as a catalyst for partnerships and for bringing members of the elite closer.
A.A. adds: The absence of a collective cultural vision prevents synergy from occurring between the older generation and the younger generation [. . .] The absence of such a vision harms our capacity to fundraise and limits our influence on political culture.
The challenges they face reveal both distinctive vulnerabilities and shared structural constraints, underscoring that despite stark differences in ideology, generation, and modes of operation, the Custodians and the Institutionalists are bound by similar systemic limitations. At the relational level, inter-elite conflict constitutes a core barrier to influence, and its persistence is symptomatic of deeper structural fractures within Arab society. Tensions with the traditional Arab political elite are not merely the product of personality clashes or party rivalry but signal the political elite’s chronic inability to articulate a coherent sociopolitical and cultural project.
Similarly, friction with the Arab religious elite is not simply a difference in values but reflects a broader struggle over who defines the boundaries of cultural legitimacy.
The fraught relationship with the Jewish cultural elite further illustrates the strategic dilemmas both groups face. While cross-cultural collaboration could offer access to resources, audiences, and legitimacy, it is often conditional on erasing or diminishing the Palestinian narrative, a cost many are unwilling to pay, propelling Arab cultural actors to invest in cosmopolitan cultural capital.
Overlaying these relational tensions are shared structural constraints that cut across group lines. The chronic shortage of public cultural infrastructure does more than limit performance venues – it constrains the elite’s ability to mobilize communities, set political agendas, and democratize cultural participation. Without such spaces, cultural engagement risks becoming privatized, further marginalizing lower-income groups and narrowing the social base for political-cultural change. Equally critical is the absence of a shared cultural vision, which is not a mere planning deficiency but a strategic vacuum. Without an agreed framework, intergenerational collaboration collapses into fragmentation, fundraising is ad hoc, and cultural production becomes reactive to state and market pressures rather than shaping its own trajectory.
Taken together, these conditions reveal that both the Custodians and the Institutionalists operate within a constrained political-cultural field where their capacity to exert influence is systematically undermined by fractured alliances, infrastructural scarcity, and the absence of strategic direction.
Discussion
Although the Arab cultural elite embraces nationalist inclinations, dedication to its Palestinian identity and secular and democratic values, it should not be viewed as monolithic. Rather, it comprises two distinct yet interrelated formations whose divergent histories, identity strategies, and modes of cultural engagement reveal both unique vulnerabilities and shared structural constraints. The Custodians, an ideological-nationalist formation of the older generation, are rooted in political party structures, particularly the Israeli Communist Party and the culture of international communism, and committed to safeguarding the Palestinian national narrative and collective memory through oppositional cultural production. This stems from Israel’s settler-colonial ideology, which regards the cultural field as inseparable from the mechanism of control and censorship over the Arab minority and as a means for constructing a new cultural space that excludes Arab society’s Palestinian narrative.
The Institutionalists, a younger institutional-professional formation, emerged amid globalization, the rise of an Arab middle class, and increased institutional mobility. Equipped with academic and professional capital, they navigate multiple identities – nationalist, civic, and cosmopolitan – while working within formal institutions, NGOs, and cultural industries, engaging in an active cosmopolitan culture and assuming an active civic identity. The Institutionalists’ cultural field was shaped during the years following the Oslo Accords, which, as stated, reframed Zionism as a national rather than settler-colonial movement and led the conflict to be perceived as national. As a result, the Institutionalists’ cultural production was shaped by a hybrid and diverse approach to nationalism, citizenship, globalism and its relationship with Israeli Jews (Sabbagh-Khoury, 2018).
This generational differentiation reflects what Eyerman and Jamison (1998) term distinct “generational projects,” where identity work is inseparable from the changing institutional opportunities available to each cohort, a perspective that sharpens our understanding of why the two groups’ trajectories diverge so markedly. It also resonates with the observation by Bennett et al. (2009) that globalization diversifies the forms of cultural capital in circulation, enabling hybrid identity formations – such as the Institutionalists’ synthesis of nationalist, civic, and cosmopolitan affiliations – that expand the repertoire of cultural strategies available in contested political contexts.
In elite theory terms, both groups exhibit the characteristics outlined by Mosca (1939), Pareto (1963), and Mills (1956) as small, selective actors capable of shaping discourse within their field. Yet, unlike the cohesive and commanding elites described in these classical accounts, the Custodians and Institutionalists are “partial elites” operating within a structurally asymmetrical cultural field. Their authority is significant within Arab society but constrained by state power, resource dependency, and intra-community boundary-policing conditions that challenge the assumption of elite autonomy.
These differences cannot be reduced to a binary of “traditional” versus “modern.” Rather, they are better understood as products of distinct generational cultural regimes, different cultural taste, divergent forms of cultural capital, different positions within Bourdieu’s (1986, 1993) cultural fields, contrasting modes of cultural citizenship and divergent approaches to action against the state. The Custodians’ positional identity is rooted in ideological clarity and stability, embedded in a field oriented towards symbolic capital and nationalist discourse, national and local production and a (communist) cosmopolitan perspective. The Institutionalists’ relational identity reflects the logic of a neoliberal, globalized field and active cosmopolitan culture, privileging flexibility, professionalization, and strategic engagement with state and transnational institutions.
This reflects the Institutionalists’ commitment to universalism. The Institutionalists’ active cosmopolitan culture is unique and reflects hybrid and flexible universalism that relies on cultural and social networks worldwide for raising funds for its cultural production, through which it presents Arab citizens’ distinct Palestinian narrative. That said, the Custodians also display universalist inclinations, in particular their historical affiliation with the communist and anti-colonialist movements. This universalism is no longer active, nor did it primarily focus on culture; rather, it was grounded in its ideological commitment to other revolutionary groups in the region.
These differences led each group to develop unique cultural tastes, which in turn informed conduct and reflected social and economic status. Cultural tastes are also manifest in habits, behavior and value judgements, reflecting the position of each group within the social hierarchy. In other words, the relationship between status and cultural taste among the Arab cultural elite is complex and multi-layered; it moves between cultural and social mobility processes and struggles over identity and representation. The Custodians seek to uphold a cultural-nationalist uniqueness through local cultural production, while the Institutionalists assume cultural tastes identified with western cultural capital, aspiring to achieve universal legitimacy and influence Israeli and global cultural arenas. This interpretation is made possible by Bourdieu (1979), who argues that cultural tastes are not limited to enjoyment but serve as a mechanism for cultural distinction and marking boundaries of class and social belonging. Thus, the Arab cultural elite’s tastes do not just serve as a class marker but also as a means for negotiating identity and managing tensions between modernism, traditionalism, nationalism, globalism, and class belonging.
Lamont and Lareau’s (1988) insight that forms of capital act as boundary markers helps explain why the Custodians’ coherence secures legitimacy in nationalist circles but restricts institutional mobility, while the Institutionalists’ openness grants access to cross-field resources but erodes nationalist authenticity. Regev’s (2013) concept of cosmopolitanization – adaptation of global repertoire into local cultural fields – captures the Institutionalists’ orientation but requires refinement here: cosmopolitanization is less an autonomous choice than a resource-driven necessity shaped by the politics of survival in a subordinated field.
These identity positions shape distinct vulnerabilities. For the Custodians, declining public legitimacy has become a defining challenge, as younger generations gravitate toward globalist values and digital activism, viewing traditional patriotic discourse as outdated. State censorship deepens this legitimacy crisis by narrowing the permissible scope of political art, constraining oppositional cultural work. Their dependence on weakening party structures limits both resources and adaptability, while reliance on outdated communication infrastructures, such as party newspapers and cultural clubs, further inhibits their reach to younger, digitally engaged audiences. Here, Holt’s (1997) notion of cultural elites “under siege” is particularly relevant: the Custodians’ symbolic capital is eroded not only by generational shifts but also by structural censorship that redefines the boundaries of acceptable cultural expression.
The Institutionalists face a legitimacy problem rooted in mistrust within Arab society, often framed as “normalization,” arising from collaborations with state institutions. Even when such collaborations produce content with nationalist or socially critical dimensions, the association with state funding can be read as compromising the national narrative. Kanaaneh’s (2009) ethnographic work on Arab citizens in state-linked roles – soldiers in her case – highlights how accusations of complicity complicate legitimacy, revealing that engagement with state frameworks, while materially enabling, can undermine authenticity in the eyes of one’s own community.
Despite these differences, however, both groups share several structural constraints. One is persistent inter-elite struggle with political, religious, and Jewish cultural elites. The collapse of a shared political-cultural vision following the disintegration of the Joint List has widened the gap between political leadership and cultural actors. Conflicts with the Arab religious elite emerge from clashes between liberal-pluralist values and conservative religious norms, producing censorship and performance cancellations. Relations with the Jewish cultural elite are equally fraught: for Custodians, collaboration often demands narrative suppression, reinforcing cultural separatism; for Institutionalists, it redirects output toward global markets without securing full integration. Swartz’s (1997) reading of Bourdieu’s field theory clarifies that these are not mere resource disputes but struggles over the authority to define legitimate culture, a struggle intensified under asymmetrical intercultural conditions, where dominant actors set participation terms.
Another shared constraint is the chronic absence of public cultural infrastructure and a unified cultural vision. The lack of theaters, cultural centers, and concert halls not only limits visibility but narrows cultural participation, while privatization risks further marginalizing disadvantaged groups. Without a vision capable of bridging generational and ideological divides, collaboration falters, fundraising weakens, and programmatic development suffers. Throsby’s (2001) argument that cultural infrastructure is a precondition for sustaining cultural capital over time underscores the severity of this gap. DiMaggio’s (1992) insight that inadequate organizational capacity hinders the conversion of symbolic capital into political or social influence explains why both Custodians and Institutionalists remain trapped in cycles of dependency and limited reach.
These intertwined challenges create a structural trap: inter-elite conflicts consume resources and block consensus; absent infrastructure deepens external dependency; internal fragmentation erodes the legitimacy of both nationalist and cosmopolitan strategies. Mills’ (1956) portrait of elites as command centers of social life finds only partial resonance here: the Arab Palestinian cultural elite commands influence within its own field, yet its structural subordination to the state and dependence on external resources sharply limit its capacity for autonomous action.
Addressing these limitations requires more than ideological reconciliation. It demands confronting the material and institutional conditions – state censorship, resource dependency, asymmetrical partnerships – that perpetuate fragmentation. Developing a pluralistic framework integrating nationalist and civic narratives, investing in accessible cultural infrastructure, and cultivating alliances capable of resisting both external domination and internal sectarianism are essential steps. Without such transformations, the cultural elite risks remaining a divided and structurally constrained actor, symbolically potent but materially marginalized in shaping the political and cultural trajectory of Arab society in Israel.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
The authors have no acknowledgments to state. Thanks to all the Interviewees in the research.
Declaration of conflicting interests
The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The authors received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Data availability
Authors elect to share anonymous data on the participants.