Christmas in Haifa: The Festive Glow of Ben-Gurion Street

This square, rich in symbolism, is named after a recent effort to honor an international organization that supported the ambitious project of reconstructing the central street of the German Colony. The initiative aimed to align the street's architecture with the grandeur of the Bahá’í Gardens, which rise majestically towards the temple. Among the square's decorations, the focus shifts from Christmas motifs to a Hanukkiah and a crescent moon.

The Hanukkiah represents Hanukkah, a Jewish winter holiday celebrated in December, and it stands alongside the crescent moon, a symbol of Islam. How does the crescent moon relate to Christmas? It doesn't—at least not directly. Haifa hosts a unique annual event called the "Holiday of Holidays," which celebrates three major traditions: Jewish Hanukkah, Muslim Ramadan, and Christian Christmas. Established about a decade ago, this festival symbolizes coexistence among these three religions.

However, the timing of these holidays often diverges. Ramadan, which follows the lunar calendar, has shifted to spring or summer in recent years, moving it far from December. Hanukkah usually coincides with December and occasionally aligns with Christmas. However, Christmas itself varies—its dates differ across Catholic and Orthodox traditions, often falling out of sync with Hanukkah.

This makes the "Holiday of Holidays" more of a symbolic gesture than a true convergence of festivals. It’s fascinating to see how this event has withstood the test of time and whether it continues to uphold its original vision of unity amidst diversity.

The residents of Ben-Gurion Street are predominantly Arab Christians who live in homes originally built by German colonists. These settlers arrived from Germany in the late 19th century and established communities in Haifa, Jerusalem, Jaffa, Galilee, and other parts of the region. However, the history associated with these homes is troubling. By the 1930s, many of these colonists supported the Nazi regime, displaying swastika flags and greeting each other with "Heil Hitler."

During World War II, British authorities in Mandatory Palestine deported these German settlers to Australia due to their Nazi affiliations. Their properties, including the iconic houses on Ben-Gurion Street, were then sold to Arab Christians.

For the residents, the months of December and January are deeply connected to Christmas—a celebration that lies at the heart of their culture and traditions. To them, Ben-Gurion Street is not just a festive location but a space where their heritage is prominently displayed. Visitors who come to admire the lights and decorations are often seen more as business-boosting tourists rather than participants in the holiday spirit.

The city’s initiative known as the “Holiday of Holidays” is met with skepticism by many locals. They view it as an artificial event with little relevance to Christmas, perceiving it as an attempt to exploit their cherished holiday. For the Arab Christian community, Christmas on Ben-Gurion Street remains a close-knit celebration, despite its public appeal.

Haifa, like all of Israel, is a mosaic of cultures shaped by countless eras and peoples. This was evident when I met a young man on Ben-Gurion Street who revived the almost-forgotten figure of the Ottoman water carrier—a character that was once indispensable in the bustling bazaars of the Ottoman Empire. Carrying a narrow-necked jug over his shoulder, he poured water with practiced precision, requiring the recipient to swiftly position their glass to catch the stream.

Today, this water carrier is more of a nostalgic memory, yet this inventive young man turned it into a vibrant business on the lively street. At first glance, it seemed delightful—a link to the past brought to life. However, a particular incident revealed the underlying tensions in this seemingly cheerful revival.

As he served coffee to a woman nearby, her polite smile met his friendly gesture, but her companion, visibly irritated, refused to pay. He dismissed the situation as intrusive marketing, reacting sharply and emotionally. The water carrier, however, remained calm, as if accustomed to such encounters. Moments later, accompanied by his partner, the two continued down the street.

When I approached them for a photo, our exchange was cordial—though no coffee was offered, and I was ready to support their effort. Then came an unexpected turn. The partner fixed his gaze on me and asked abruptly, “Are you a Christian?” Smiling, I replied, “No.” His expression changed instantly. Gripping the water carrier’s arm, they quickly walked away.

The moment left me unsettled, but its meaning soon became clear. It illustrated the subtle yet profound division of “us” and “them”—a deeply rooted sentiment that is omnipresent in the Middle East. Even amidst festivities and joy, these invisible boundaries persist.

Events like the “Holiday of Holidays” aspire to promote coexistence and shared celebration. Yet behind the façade, the ancient demarcation of belonging endures. To assume such divisions have vanished is a mistake—one we must remain mindful of as we navigate the layered and complex identity of Haifa and its people.

The German Colony in Haifa attracts tourists year-round, with its main street lined with lively restaurants. Each establishment, filled with visitors, thrives in a competitive environment that encourages owners to stand out—whether through creative menus and unique interiors during the week or dazzling decorations around the holidays. This desire to impress reaches its peak at Christmas, when the street transforms into a radiant corridor of festive lights.

However, let’s call it what it is: Christmas. The decorations, lights, and overall atmosphere are unmistakably connected to this holiday. The so-called "Holiday of Holidays" is merely a marketing term—an appealing label that doesn't truly capture the essence of the celebration.

Like the story of the water carrier, the surface may be dazzling, but deeper layers often reveal different motives. The beauty of the German Colony is undeniable, but it's important to approach its festive charm with a discerning eye to appreciate what lies beneath the glittering façade fully.

Strudel Restaurant is a landmark in Haifa, known for its unique concept. With several locations throughout the city, its oldest branch is situated at the corner of Jaffa and Bank Streets. It is here that the vision for Strudel as a representative of Arab Christian cuisine first took shape—a rich and intricate culinary tradition rooted in northern Israel, Lebanon, and Syria.

This cuisine, specific to the Christian community, emphasizes slow-cooked dishes, often highlighting meat and legumes as central ingredients. Its sweet traditions can be traced back to European influences. In the late 19th century, British, French, and Austrian settlers arrived in the Holy Land, acquiring land and establishing monasteries, schools, and hospitals. Alongside their missionary and educational efforts, they introduced European desserts, including the iconic strudel.

The strudel quickly gained popularity in cities like Haifa and Nazareth, becoming an integral part of the culinary identity of Christian Galilee. Today, Strudel Restaurant honors this legacy by blending historical influences with local flavors to create a gastronomic experience that reflects Haifa's multicultural tapestry.

Faces Restaurant, an iconic establishment in Haifa’s German Colony, embodies a blend of tradition and innovation through its fusion cuisine. In contrast to Strudel, Faces takes a more understated approach to both decor and Christmas decorations, reflecting its philosophy of honoring the spirit of Christian culinary heritage while embracing creativity and modern trends.

The differing festive styles of these two restaurants illustrate their unique identities. Strudel's decor exudes grandeur and celebrates its deep historical roots, while Faces opts for elegant simplicity, highlighting contemporary charm. This visual language of decorations subtly enriches the dining experience, providing a glimpse into the distinctive philosophies that define each establishment. Faces serves as a testament to the evolving culinary landscape of Haifa, where tradition and innovation coexist harmoniously.

Fahadi's is one of the most renowned restaurants in Haifa’s German Colony. It is more than just a dining spot—it embodies a story of resilience, identity, and transformation. The restaurant's founder, Fahadi, was born into an Arab Christian family and faced immense challenges growing up, as his non-traditional orientation clashed with the cultural norms of his community. In a society deeply rooted in the idea of “us” versus “them,” Fahadi’s journey has been nothing short of extraordinary.

The restaurant became his canvas for self-expression. By combining his grandmother’s cherished culinary traditions with the Provençal cuisine he fell in love with during his years in Provence, Fahadi created a space where individuality takes center stage. It was the first restaurant in the German Colony to celebrate personal expression, challenging the rigid framework of belonging and identity.

What makes Fahadi's truly remarkable is its ability to blur the lines between “us” and “them.” Here, the boundaries dissolve, and food becomes a universal language. Every dish reflects a philosophy—a bridge between tradition, individuality, and shared human values. Fahadi’s invites visitors not only to taste but also to reflect, offering a profound insight into the complexities of identity and the unifying power of culinary art.

Every year, as Christmas approaches, the German Colony in Haifa hosts its New Year Bazaar. Not a Christmas market, but a New Year celebration—a tradition distinct from the fabricated “Holiday of Holidays,” which has faded over time, and from the deeply religious observance of Christmas itself. This celebration introduces a third element: a tradition that is authentic, unique, and unlike any other.

The New Year tradition was born in a land where strict divisions between “us” and “them” shaped society. Yet, remarkably, this holiday endured, outliving the era and the country that created it. Today, it continues to bring joy to those who have moved far beyond the days of its origin.

Visitors flock to Haifa, inspired by the idea of Christmas, and they undoubtedly find the festive trappings they seek. But one question lingers: is this truly the celebration they came for? That answer lies with you.

At the heart of all celebrations—whether it’s Christmas, New Year, or the so-called “Holiday of Holidays”—stands a central square. A towering Christmas tree is flanked by a Hanukkiah and a small house adorned with a crescent moon. The twinkling lights bring joy to the crowds, but when you gaze at these symbols, it becomes clear that, for many, their profound meanings have long faded. The Christmas tree, Hanukkah candles, and Islamic crescent are no longer foundational elements of belief; they have transformed into vibrant decorations within the festive scenery.

Still, a question lingers: why is it so important to bring Christians, Jews, and Muslims together in this small space? It feels reminiscent of a kindergarten teacher throwing a single birthday party for all the children born in the month—or even for those who aren’t, just to avoid hurt feelings. But the “children” have grown up, and such efforts at forced unity often hold significance only on the surface.

Christmas is Christmas. Hanukkah is Hanukkah. New Year is New Year. Each celebration shines in its own right, coexisting in this metaphorical shared apartment—until someone attempts to impose a collective festivity. Let people cherish their traditions without muddling the essence of what truly matters to them.

Fattoush evokes mixed emotions in Haifa. For some, it serves as a hub of Arab nationalism; for others, it represents a beacon of liberal ideals. Critics describe it as overly “leftist,” while many praise its delicious and affordable cuisine. However, to understand Fattoush, one must first grasp the essence of Haifa—a measured capital in the north where the delicate balance of "us" and "them" is both fragile and remarkably resilient.

This balance influences the city, shaping its streets, homes, and people like an intricate web of interconnected forces. It resembles a roly-poly toy, always returning to a state of equilibrium. The spirit of Haifa respects differences, cherishes traditions, and shines with a cosmopolitanism rooted in freedom. Rather than blending or unifying, it embraces complexity and coexistence.

Haifa’s equilibrium is often misunderstood, mocked, or criticized, yet it remains distinct. This spirit embodies a calm acceptance—allowing others simply to be. Fattoush reflects this ethos, not by trying to merge identities but by showcasing Haifa’s intricate yet harmonious diversity. Through its food, atmosphere, and reputation, Fattoush is more than just a restaurant; it is a mirror of Haifa’s unique soul.