Albert Cainday, chair of the Filipino foreign workers' organization UPIMA. "Never be afraid to insist on the rights of the workers." (Photo by Uriel Sinai)

Cainday, who used to edit and write in the newspaper Manila-Tel Aviv Times, was convinced his deportation could be blamed to a large extent on his public roles. "Nobody told me that was the reason, but the fact is that they didn't arrest me in the street just by chance," he said in an interview conducted on the eve of his departure from Israel. "The policeman who came to arrest me had an address, and they were holding a copy of the newspaper I edited, which had a picture of me. The deportation is part of the price I am paying for my activity. I know I'm not the first leader to be deported, and I'm probably not the last."

Cainday is not gifted with prophecy. His predecessor in the job, his elder brother Elmer, who founded the organization in Israel, was also deported a short time after establishing the union. Along with the deportation of Tongol, who managed to fill the position for only a few weeks, another Filipino leader, Arnold Evangelista, was deported. He was active first in UPIMA and afterward founded his own organization. Even when he didn't have an organization, he was always active in the field: He served as an liaison for many foreign workers, helped them find their way around and find work, explained their rights to them and mediated between them and human rights organizations. In UPIMA, it is customary to choose the chairman in elections in which all the members of the organization participate. But now, they are saying in the organization, it's not clear when the next elections will be held, because people are afraid, and it's not certain there will be volunteers for the job of chairman.

With backs to the cameras

Nana Holbrooke, chair of the African Workers Union in Israel, says that among the foreign workers "the rule is that nobody volunteers entirely of his own free will to be a leader. It always involves great personal risk. Anyone who has a visa is afraid it won't be renewed, and anyone who doesn't, is afraid of too much exposure." As opposed to other leaders, he and his friends usually flee from the cameras. "The last time I agreed to be filmed on television was after the terrorist attack at the old central bus station in Tel Aviv," he says. "Then I took the chance in order to calm down our people who were injured and were afraid to come for treatment." Wang Ka, a leader in the Chinese community, also appeared on television that day, but he was even more careful than Holbrooke, and spoke with his back to the camera.

In the short history of relations between foreign workers and Israeli authorities, the latter have never admitted a deliberate policy of deporting the leaders. It is reasonable to assume that no such instructions appear in any document, but the phenomenon is familiar to all those who are in contact with foreign workers, and is is very familiar to the foreign workers themselves. G., a foreign worker from Chile, was not surprised when several years ago policement burst into her apartment in the middle of the night and threatened her with arrest and deportation, despite the fact that she had a legal visa. When they were asked afterward to explain their behavior, one of the policemen said G. was helping foreign workers from South America to get along and to find work, and thus encouraging them to settle in Israel.

About two years ago, in the wake of a wave of arrests and deportation of leaders, the Hotline for Migrant Workers, petitioned the High Court of Justice on this issue. The petition was rejected. One of the reasons for the rejection was the surprise expressed by the judges that it is the illegal workers who are the leaders.

"It takes time until a person understands the rules and regulations of the place where he is, and until he is sufficiently well-known in the community. Nobody will turn for help to a person who has been in Israel less than two years," said Cainday, providing one answer to reaction of the judges. And the Interior Ministry limits the period of residence in the country to only two years, except for special cases. To the question of why he got into it, knowing that he was risking his livelihood, Cainday said: "It's a sort of obligation to society. There always has to be someone to organize the workers and fight for our rights. I knew very well what I was getting into."

Abandoned by their own government

Had anyone bothered to check, he would have discovered that the ideology of the organization whose local branch Cainday headed, as well as a large part of its activity, suit the government policy of reducing the number of foreign workers in Israel. This is a worldwide organization, established in 1999, of Filipinos who are working outside their country. A substantial part of its activity is directed against the policy of the Philippine government, which they claim abandons the immigrants. "Our government doesn't do a thing to increase work possibilities at home, or even to protect its citizens who are working abroad from exploitation and harassment," said Cainday on the eve of his return to his homeland.

The leadership of the foreign workers is not an elite brought in from above. Albert Cainday is the fifth son of six children in a poor family of rice and coconut growers in the Saman district of the Philippines. Like many poor families, the Caindays invested all their resources to pay for the youngest son to study law, as a type of investment in someone who would be able to help all of them afterward. But a short time after receiving his degree and starting to work, the lawyer son died from an illness. Cainday, who accepted responsibility to provide for the family, went to Israel to work - at first legally; after his work visa expired and wasn't extended, he stayed on as an illegal worker.

As a representative workers' organization, the Histadrut, Israel's powerful labor union, took UPIMA under its wing and gave it a room in the workers' committee building in Tel Aviv. Cainday and his friends even participated in a course in Beit Berl College, where they learned about various methods of organizing. Cainday was fascinated by the idea of the cooperative, and under his leadership a cooperative of foreign workers was established to grant loans under convenient terms.

No lack of leaders

One of the members of the UPIMA administration, Robin Manolo from the Philippines, said that despite the fact that two leaders were deported within a short time, the Israeli branch of the organization continues to operate under the leadership of a replacement. It turns out that despite the risk involved, there is no lack of leaders among the foreign workers. Whether they stand at the head of the church or at the head of a soccer team, whether they lead an ethnic group (as is customary among the Africans) or a group whose members come from the same region and speak the same language (as is customary among the Filipinos), or even a dance troupe, they are the ones to whom people turn. They serve as intermediaries and endanger their status by being in contact with the authorities. A minority of them are elected, but most are self-appointed leaders who have been recognized by the community.

Among the talents necessary for a leader of foreign workers, the most important is a knowledge of Hebrew, or at least a good command of English. Beyond this, they have to know how to get around, be willing to invest time and resources in getting information and sometimes even to accompany people. Primarily, they need courage. Most of the leaders are charismatic people who in other circumstances would undoubtedly have become politically active. Here they work without compensation, and sometimes are even required to contribute from their own pockets in order to help others. They receive no benefits whatsoever, and even respect is not taken for granted. Nana Holbrooke recalls that when he started to work in the organization, he and his colleagues were a target of bitterness and hostility on the part of their fellow foreign workers.

Holbrooke climbed to the position of chairman from a lower (and less risky) position as the president of the African workers' football club. It happened in 1997, when the Likud led the government, and a widespread campaign of deportation was carried out, including searches and late-night arrests. "Under these circumstances, Dedi Zucker, who was then a Meretz MK, asked to meet with us in order to see how to bring our case to the Knesset," he says, recalling the steps that led to the establishment of the organization. Holbrooke went to a meeting with representatives from various African countries. Zucker listened and was convinced. "He said he wants us to come to the Knesset and speak there about the special problems of Africans," says Holbrooke. "The only problem was who would go to the Knesset. We are all here illegally, and nobody wanted to go. My friends pressured and pushed, said that I speak well." Finally he gave in.

The chosen group comprised nine people: four from the Congo, three from Sierra Leone and two from Ghana. As a cautionary measure they asked for a guarantee that at least they wouldn't be arrested in the Knesset. "Dedi Zucker said he couldn't make such a commitment." Beyond the risk they took upon themselves, in the African community there were even some people who were angry at the entire move and at the members of the group. "They were afraid the Israelis would see it in a negative light, as though we were being arrogant, and that would work as a boomerang against the entire community," recalls Holbrooke. "There were even some who took our addresses in order to give them to the police if necessary."

To the Knesset

Despite the fears, at first it looked as though the move would succeed. The Knesset committee for examining the situation of foreign workers, headed by Yuri Stern, heard about the difficulties in the countries from which the Africans had come and about the families they had left behind in order to work and provide for them. They listened and were impressed. There were even ideas about a group arrangement with the Africans that would grant them legal status for a limited period of time.

In order to have a representative organization, they established an association with the assistance of Zucker and Avraham Poraz, who is now interior minister. The African workers registered for the association in large numbers, since they thought they would really reach an arrangement, and they wanted to be included. But even then it was difficult to find a volunteer for the job. This was Nicodam Mansari.

"There were no big battles about who would endanger himself," says Holbrooke. After the chairman left, elections were held, and Holbrooke was chosen. "Since then I have been waiting for a quieter time, maybe then someone will be willing to take my place," he says.

During the period of the Labor government under former prime minister Ehud Barak, the deportations were stopped almost entirely. Additional groups tried to organize as the Africans had done. MESILA in Tel Aviv (the Hebrew acronym for the Center for Assistance and Information for the Foreign Community) conducted leadership workshops. The Van Leer Institute provided academic recognition of the importance of the role of the leaders, by arranging a series of discussions between them and young Israeli university professors. This period is remembered by the foreign workers as a kind of golden age of relative freedom and high hopes.

"In the workshops, we learned a lot about politics in Israel and how things work," says Holbrooke. He says that even today there are meetings with MESILA leaders, where "they use our help to transmit information to people, and we consult with them concerning events and the proper means of action."

Dr. Adriana Kemp, from the sociology department at Tel Aviv University, says that in Europe there are several social organizations of illegal immigrants, such as the Sans Papiers [Without Papers] organization in France. She says that as opposed to the situation in Israel, there, as well as in Germany, local citizens join the organizations and work together with the illegal immigrants.

In an article published by Kemp and sociologist Dr. Rivka Reichman, also of TAU, they wrote that the activity of MESILA, which is meant to build and encourage leadership among the foreign workers, is of particular significance in light of the "state-sponsored persecution." In an article entitled "Tel Aviv is not foreign to you: Municipal policy for integrating work immigrants in Israel," Kemp and Reichman wrote, "During the course of 2001, the authorities detained and deported Filipino and South African activists, with the clear goal of scaring off migrants without papers from additional attempts to organize and settle here."

The Immigration Authority, which of course denies any such intention or goal, replies: "The Immigration Authority has no special policy toward leaders, neither positive nor negative. We detain and deport them because they are illegal, without any relation to the fact that they are leaders."

The contact people

Human rights organizations claim the leaders are also important to the establishment. According to Sigal Rosen, head of the Hotline for Migrant Workers, more than once, leaders have helped police in exposing serious crimes. Their importance is particularly evident when the need arises to transmit information quickly, to calm people down and to offer help, as happened after the terrorist attack near the old central bus station in Tel Aviv. Even before the war in Iraq, they were the contact people through whom the authorities managed to reach all the foreign workers and to explain to them how to prepare for a missile attack and where to get gas masks.

The friends of Wang Ka, for example, would have been completely lost without his help. The only language they know is Chinese, and they have no idea what is happening in Israel. Wang said that when Israel started to place guards everywhere, in the wake of the wave of terror attacks, "the Chinese stopped going to the grocery store, because they thought the police were there in order to arrest them. They didn't understand. At first we thought they would disappear within a few days. After a few days when we didn't buy food and were quite hungry, I checked out the story and explained it to them."

Wang Ku's background is similar to that of his friends. He was born 26 years ago in Yunan Province to a poor family that moved afterward to Szechuan, the capital of Szechuan Province. He is the middle brother of three, and in China they are considered a large family. His father, a construction worker, couldn't support the family, Wang dropped out of school when he was 10 years old and went to work. At the age of 19 he came to Israel with a group of construction workers. He says that as happens nowadays very often to his countrymen, the work ended even before the end of the contract. He couldn't return to China because of his debts. He found work at the Pikanti food plant, which went bankrupt.

"At that time I was in the street a lot, and then I learned a lot," he recalls. "I learned Hebrew, I learned all kinds of work, I learned to get along with employers, to sign a lease for renting an apartment. Lots of things." At the same time he met a young Chinese woman who was working in a restaurant in the south. The two fell in love and got engaged. She saved some money and returned to China, but Wang decided to stay, in spite of the fact that he misses her.

"At first I stayed because I wanted to earn more money," he recalls. "I can barely read Chinese, even the sacred writings are hard for me to read. I want my children to be able to go to school, and not to grow up like me." Afterward he decided to stay because of his Chinese friends, for whom he served as eyes, ears and voice.

Two and a half weeks ago Wang was arrested. At 4:30 A.M. his apartment was surrounded by about 10 policemen, by his estimate. In a conversation from jail last week he told how, while he was opening the front door, the police broke the back door and burst into the apartment. "They asked me `Where are the passports?' I said: `There aren't any.' They turned the whole apartment upside down searching. Finally they took me and my friends who live in the same apartment."

Thanks to his previous connections with the police, at first Wang was not particularly concerned. Once he submitted a complaint in the name of friends who had fallen victim to violent blackmail, and thus brought about the arrest of the blackmailer; another time he helped the police to close an escort service operated by foreign workers. He did this while taking a certain risk, mainly in order to protect his friends.

Is he sorry after the fact that he helped the police? "A little," he says, "because I made enemies and I have no protection." Friends who came to visit him in jail told him the blackmailer's wife, who is also Chinese, knows exactly where he is, and has even threatened to harm him. Wang treats these threats very seriously. "I know these people have connections with the mafia in China. I would like to return to China to get married, but now I'm afraid."

A short time before Pesach there was a meeting of the members of the African Workers Union in order to discuss the increasing detentions and deportations. Four days earlier Yossi Eitan, publisher of the Manila-Tel Aviv Times and the Beijing-Tel Aviv Times, was arrested, along with a Chinese journalist and two members of the editorial staff. The Africans were worried. In a conversation someone suggested turning to the new interior minister, Avraham Poraz of Shinui. "He helped us establish the organization, maybe he'll agree to listen to us now," he said. Chairman Nana Holbrooke said that he would be happy to meet with Poraz and to explain the distress of the African workers, but in today's situation and because of Poraz's high status, he is afraid to turn to him.

The members of UPIMA are now planning to elect a new chairman. Robin Manolo, who holds a valid visa, will not present his candidacy. "I haven't been here long enough yet, I'm still learning," he explained. He added: "But I'm sure that a leader will be found. As Cainday once said to me, our great challenge is to break the apathy of those who are afraid to become involved."