Short memories when it comes to Israel: “Even laughter is a cure,” says Israeli stand-up comedian Yohay Sponder

Being a comedian is a very serious profession, and Yohay Sponder approaches it with unwavering professionalism. He has no need to joke when he’s not on stage; he speaks clearly, almost in a professorial manner, when explaining his mission, which is to make people laugh – but in the way Israelis laugh: with tears in their eyes. He is about to set off on his next tour in the United States; when he answers the phone, he says he has already got everything ready. For him, packing his bags and making sure he forgets nothing has become a routine task, so accustomed is he to the artful dance of setting off, organising, returning, planning and starting afresh. Sponder is one of the most famous comedians, not only in Israel, and, as he puts it, he seems to have been designed specifically to make jokes about everything. He says it’s in his blood and his nature. Comedy is written into his DNA as an Israeli, into his family history, and, as he excels in his craft, he doesn’t need to have people in stitches during an interview; he doesn’t get trapped in any particular persona. He is utterly serious as he explains his craft and his mission, which has recently taken him back and forth between Israel and the United States, always in English, which is not his mother tongue. He speaks English with the rounded ‘r’ typical of Israelis – a key quirk in his shows which, precisely because he doesn’t need to make people laugh during the interview, seems to fade away a little whilst he’s on the phone.

Sponders’ story is Israeli through and through; he grew up in the Golan Heights, is half Polish and half Moroccan, and performs in an elegant suit with a large Star of David as a necklace. In Hebrew, it is not called a ‘star’ but the ‘Shield of David’, and that is exactly what it looks like on Yohay when he performs: a shield worn by a warrior who has made comedy his weapon. He calls it ‘a remedy’. “Comedy is a tool, like a blanket. It serves a purpose,” he explains to Il Foglio, elaborating: “You can use a sense of humour to ease pain or to completely change your life; if you manage to laugh at something that really hurts you, it’s a form of self-healing, and that’s how you start to move beyond the pain. There’s no doubt that humour is one of the best painkillers, even if everyone is in their own world and only you can know how much pain you’re able to play down.’ For Sponder, there are no limits to humour; if done well, you can afford the luxury of laughing at everything, about everything. You don’t need boundaries or barriers – you just need to know how to do it. “My shows always deal with current events; they always take their cue from the news, so on my next tour I’ll be talking about the Flydubai flight and what happened on board. My life – our lives – as Israelis, as Jews, as human beings, is always at the heart of it.”

“When putting together each show, I follow four circles,” he continues, “humanity, the Jewish people, Israel and myself, along with my family. That’s what I call ‘bringing the trauma out’.” Bringing it out into the open and sharing it – both the pain and the laughter. It seems that Sponder constructs his shows like a choir, a dialogue between himself and the audience, a song sung in unison. His audience often become protagonists and he teases them with grace, drawing them in: the show belongs to everyone; he is the conductor.

Sponder began his career as a comedian straight after completing his military service; he went to a few open-mic nights, where anyone is free to perform, then started appearing on radio shows, gradually built up his own audience, and finally decided to learn English and perform in a language other than his own. He went through many changes and travelled across continents, and then came 7 October – a significant day both personally and for the nation. “My whole life has changed; I lost my cousin. She was a soldier stationed on the border with Gaza; she wasn’t in a combat role, but she was among the first female soldiers to be killed. I was shaken and grief-stricken, but no one can complain – the whole country was in turmoil; everyone lost friends and relatives; we saw families torn apart. Receiving the news alone was a life-changing experience. Months have passed, and I decided to go and perform for everyone – for the wounded soldiers, for the evacuated communities, in the hospitals. That’s how I worked – as a volunteer. Many of us did what we could using our professional skills. Mine was to go out and make people laugh, until I decided to take a break; I needed some time out and took some time to get my life back on track. Then my father died.” And that David’s shield that Yahay Sponder wears on his chest is also for him, David Sponder.

“During the period of mourning, I let my beard grow, so my appearance changed; it was a necessary transformation.” The old Yohay had given way to the new one, in every respect, in appearance and in his work: “I started wearing smart clothes; I felt it was the right thing to do for the sort of performances that lay ahead. At first it was a one-off – I wore a tie for a show – then I realised it was important to maintain this new look. Even the way I spoke began to change.” Sponder dedicated a show entitled “Genesis” to this revolution, to describe a personal, national and human rebirth – a new genesis for Judaism as well. “I’ve always used humour to bring people together, but at a certain point I felt it was no longer the time to be polite. I couldn’t be. In Hebrew we say ‘to bang on the table’; that was what I had to do – say things the way I wanted to say them, stop sugar-coating things, stop chasing after the attempt to be polite.” Everything had changed – in the country, in grief, as well as in laughter. Sponder’s comedy had the same rhythm, the same structure, but a completely revamped presentation.

Israel has stopped trying to appear calm, polite and courteous, just like Sponder. And all around, people have turned against the country that had suffered the greatest attack and the most serious tragedy in the history of its foundation. Criticism, boycotts, anti-Semitism, accusations, insults and attacks—in Europe as well as in the United States, the country where the comedian stages most of his shows—have taken hold in a bid to erase 7 October. Even Sponder’s comedy has changed: “I feel lucky that my people aren’t intimidated by threats; there have been demonstrations and intimidation at my shows, but we’re not afraid. Israelis have shown who they are – as on that Flydubai flight – we’re not a people who put up with things, we’re not naive; we fight back. “I think it’s madness to receive death threats just because I try to make people laugh. I don’t see much difference between the way people laugh in Israel or in the United States; ultimately, I feel as though I’m always meeting the same tribe – my tribe. The difference is that in Israel they don’t give you standing ovations, whereas in the United States they do; it’s a cultural thing.”

Sponder’s shows aren’t just for Jews around the world – and the comedian knows this – but his aim remains the same: ‘to entertain my people by drawing on what concerns them. “Of course, I bear in mind that the show must be interesting for everyone, even for someone who’s only come because they fancied a stand-up comedy show. I’m walking a fine and precarious line, striking a balance with the audience, but I think I’m managing rather well.” Sponder often reiterates that his aim is unity; he discusses matters that bring people together, falling within the four themes around which he structures his shows – his personal history, Israel, the Jewish people, and humanity as a whole – and it appears to be a complex mission at a time when, on the contrary, divisions are running rampant within his own country, wounds are being reopened, and a struggle is being waged over the very meaning of being Israeli. None of this is Sponder’s concern: “I know that if I criticise the government in front of people who aren’t in the country, it’s like washing my dirty linen in public. That’s the criticism I level at the documentary Naza: if you have something to say, let’s investigate it together; don’t use it in a way that spreads hatred and lies. We all have a responsibility towards peace.” During the conversation, Sponder frequently refers to the part of the peace process that each of us must look after; everything is a collective responsibility, and we move forward together, delving into the four circles of his work.

Sponder is convinced that everything could be better if there were more comedians about, which is why he dedicates himself to giving advice to those wishing to pursue the profession: he is convinced that laughter is healing, and complains that “there aren’t enough funny people about”. Laughter puts things in order, unites, stimulates and tells stories; “there are no limits – you just have to do it well and choose the right setting”. One of the first rules he never breaks is: “You have to laugh at things that concern you. Comedy allows you to joke about who you are; you have the right to poke fun at who you are, but if, on the other hand, you make jokes about things that don’t concern you, you’re breaking the rules. You can do it, but only if you know how. For example: if someone comes to Israel and makes jokes about the Holocaust with a German accent, saying that their grandfather probably did terrible things, it might work, but it’s very risky. You have to realise that if you break the rules, you have to do it cleverly.”

It is by following this rule that Sponder claims to have the makings of a comedian, rather like how slender fingers and nimble hands are thought to give a pianist an advantage in their profession. So Yohay Sponder seems to have been born a comedian; the role was tailor-made for him from birth. He has the innate ability to laugh at everything, and he discovered this whilst discussing political correctness in the United States, which led to a sketch entitled ‘I can do it’: ‘I can laugh at many cultures; I’m half Moroccan, so I can make jokes about Morocco and therefore about Africa too. My mother grew up speaking Arabic, so I can even dare to laugh at Arabic and Islam. But I’m also half-Polish, and I’m Jewish and I’m Israeli, and Israel is in Asia, so I really can make jokes about everything, even about Asians.” Comedy is a project etched into his DNA, shaped by the times, structured around the four circles that underpin his work; and if one day they were to coincide, then perhaps it would mean that Yohay Sponder has succeeded in his aim: to fill the world with people capable of making others laugh.