Issue 80: In Praise of a Teacher
A tribute to Dr. Clinton Bailey, one of Israel's national treasures, who passed away this week
On January 6th, 2025, Dr. Clinton Bailey passed away at the age of 88. Never heard of him? Don’t beat yourself up about it. Clinton never sought the spotlight. But for close observers of Israel, Clinton Bailey was a living legend best known for his singular scholarship on the Bedouin and his personal relationship with David and Paula Ben-Gurion.
I knew Clinton personally, and although I’m definitely not the best person to eulogize such a distinguished and accomplished individual, I’d like to nonetheless share some memories of time spent in his company.
Whenever I travel to a new place, I always prefer using a guide. I don’t mean a professional guide, but someone who can serve as a compass to the cultural and spatial nuances of unfamiliar terrain. Some of the best guides aren’t necessarily locals, but those individuals who - for one reason or another - elected to immerse themselves in something radically different than where they came from. They can see and understand the world from different perspectives, and can balance multiple truths simultaneously. Clinton was one of those types of people. For me—and I imagine for countless others over the past six decades—he was the bridge between worlds. A bridge connecting Israeli and Jewish culture with Bedouin traditions, Western civilization with Islamic heritage, the past with the present, the familiar with the unknown.
Clinton was from a different era. Though an accomplished scholar who not only observed and recorded history but lived it, he was a deeply modest and soft-spoken man. He came from a generation where knowledge was valued over material possessions. And few if any could rival his familiarity with the Bedouin communities of the Negev and Sinai deserts.
I remember picking him up once at the central bus station in Be’er Sheva. As we made our way south into the desert, he asked if we could pull over at a gas station. He wanted an ice cream. As we sat in the shade, he began to make small talk in Arabic with two teens who had pulled up with their motorcycles. They weren’t taken aback that this elderly gentlemen in khakis (when in the desert he always wore khaki shirts and pants) and dark sunglasses understood their particular dialect. But they were shocked that just from their family name he knew their parents, grandparents and great-grandparents.
On a separate occasion, Clinton asked me to drive him to a friend’s home between Sde Boker and Mitzpe Ramon. I agreed, completely unaware that his request was going to test the physical limits of my vehicle (a rental!). Many Bedouin communities in the Negev reside in settlements that are unrecognized by the State of Israel. They are off-grid, without asphalt roads or legal electrical cables connecting them to “civilization”. There is no trash collection. No running water. In order to reach this particular community, I would need to cross a small but deep valley. I can distinctly remember the sound of undercarriage being clawed at as I, teeth clenched, tried to navigate the car through the maze of rocks and metal debris. Clinton was stoic throughout, unconcerned about the future viability of the rental’s axels. He was focused on helping me find the correct structure where his friend was waiting.
In his 2018 book, Bedouin Culture in the Bible, Clinton relates a story where a Bedouin friend convinces him to stop writing and visit his tent. His friend is persistent, doggedly showing up every day until Clinton relents and visits his tent:
And that is exactly what proceeded to happen when we arrived at Clinton’s friend’s home. Coffee and conversation was just a starter for a meal and longer conversation to follow. Clinton didn’t need the coffee, the conversation with old friends was enough to keep him awake throughout the night.
Because of my professional relationship with Clinton, we had the opportunity to build a personal relationship as well. We would meet every so often at the Jerusalem International YMCA for coffee and tea, where he would pepper me with questions about my travels in Turkey and my understandings of regional geopolitics. I think he enjoyed the role-reversal, where he could enter his comfort zone as the perpetual student and scholar.
The world is a darker place without Clinton Bailey. Who will rise to guide us through this era of division and distrust? Who will build the bridges between cultures and foster meaningful connections between peoples? Who will remind us of our shared humanity?
May we all be fortunate enough to have such teachers in our lives, and may his memory be a blessing.
Some content related to Dr. Clinton Bailey’s life and work:
You can access the Clinton Bailey Archive of Bedouin Culture via the National Library of Israel’s website, which includes hundreds of photos and audio recordings that he collected during his decades of scholarship.
Clinton had a deep personal relationship with the Ben-Gurion family and in 1968 was privileged to record a series of conversations with Israel’s first prime minister as part of a British film project. But the project was never completed and the reels of silent footage and soundtracks were separately archived. Only a decade ago were the two pieces of this missing interview reunited and finally turned into a film, Ben-Gurion, Epilogue, that you can find and rent on Vimeo and other sites.
As I mentioned, I am not the best person to eulogize Clinton. I am grateful that my friend Zach Rothbart wrote a more comprehensive summary of Clinton’s life and achievements in Times of Israel.
Thanks for taking the time to read. As always, I welcome your comments and questions.
Best,
Gabi
Footnote: Clinton’s Hebrew name was Isaac, but there is more to the story.
Clinton Bailey was born in Buffalo, New York in 1936 as Irwin Edmund Glaser. In an effort to hide his Jewish identity when he traveled in the Arab world, he adopted the pseudonym Clinton Bailey. How did he decide on this name? Clinton and Bailey were two intersecting streets in the Jewish neighborhood of Buffalo where his father owned an automobile service station.