When a Burqa is Your Weapon: TJH Speaks with Shir Peled

Shir, can you give us a little background on the Mista’aravim unit?

I’ll start with the big difference between undercover fighters, which are the Mista’aravim, and undercover agents, because a lot of people mix up the two of them.

My career, my job for the past 12 years, is that I’m a stylist. I dress people up. You’ll see my work on a magazine cover or commercial. My job is to make you, the audience, believe my stories and my characters. And that’s actually the same thing I did as a Mista’aravim.

My job in Mista’aravim was to blend in the field in a hostile population and make the people around me believe my character and believe my cover story. So that’s actually the main job of the Mista’aravim. That’s actually what we do. The very shining moment, the Hollywood moment of what we do, is when we draw the guns. But that’s the last point of our job. We need to get there without anybody noticing us. But when we get to that point, we’re no longer undercover – we’re fighters. It can take two minutes. It can take a day. It all builds up to that moment.

When I was in the unit, I had a lot of characters that I used as my cover, depending on the village I needed to go into. In this way, we’re different from undercover agents. Agents usually have one cover story and one character, and they sustain it for a lot longer time. They also don’t fight in the field. We do.

How did you train to become part of the Mista’aravim?

I volunteered for a combat soldier position in the Israeli border police. As a teenager, I wanted to have a meaningful role in the army. I grew up around the Second Intifada, which was a really hard time in Israel and especially in Jerusalem, where I grew up.

My life before the army was very different. I went to a high school of art. I majored in drama and costume design. But the Second Intifada, and especially a suicide bomber occurrence, which I was in, made me change my mind and my goals. I decided that the army was the next stop for me. I was searching for a meaningful role in the army. But back then, women were not allowed to participate in combat. After the IDF said no, we don’t have a place for you as a combat soldier, I found out that the border police opened their gates in 1996 and that the role there was equal to men. I decided to volunteer for the border police. Four months into basic training, I was spotted by the commanders of the Mista’aravim unit. After tests and all sorts of assessments – they wanted to see who could fit the role and who could be good at the role – from a group of 20 women, three of us were chosen. We were the first group of women to serve in the unit. After that, I went for special training.

How big is the Mista’aravim unit?

Back then, when I was there, the unit was pretty small, but not that small. There were 50 men,

“I’m holding the gun to his head, and he’s aiming a gun at me.”

and in the beginning, just three women. Today it is larger, but back then, those were the numbers.

You said you studied costume design beforehand and you were in drama, which helped you for your position in Mista’aravim. But what about language? Did you ever speak Arabic before?

You’re going to be surprised. I never spoke Arabic. I never learned Arabic. I used to go in the field with no language at all.

There are a few reasons for that. First of all, when I grew up, to be honest, it was still the Second Intifada and the reason they decided to train women as Mista’aravim was a tactical reason because the field was burning. The enemy was very, very vicious and on high alert and the army said, “We need to make the picture that we present to the enemy more naive and more every-day like.” That’s why they decided to train us as Mista’aravim – so we can gather intelligence and go deeper than the men actually do and to be near terrorists when the men couldn’t do it. They said, “No one would suspect that these women are Mista’aravim. They can just go in the field. No one is going to stop them.” In the Arab culture, no one addresses religious Arab women in the street. So, in a way, I really didn’t need to speak Arabic.

At first, they looked at us [the women in the unit] more as a tactical method for the process and not as fighters. They told us, “No matter what happens, no matter if someone shoots at you, you don’t draw your weapon. No one can know that you are Mista’aravim.” With time, it changed because they understood that I can’t go in the field and not fight if my life is in danger or the life of one of my counterparts is in danger. So, there was no real need for us to speak Arabic.

You were in charge of dressing yourself up for every mission. Were there people helping you with the disguises?

No, it was us. It’s not that so shiny as in the movies. It’s not like in 007, where you go into a room and everything is high tech. I remember that we got some costumes when we got to the unit of men that I used to dress up as women. Most of the stuff we used to bring from home, actually.

In the show “Fauda,” it seems like the unit is on a mission every day. How often did you go on a mission?

We would go on missions even a few times a day because, again, it was the Second Intifada, a very intensive time. Some days we went with no sleep; some days around the clock. It was all the time. Some of the missions we prepared months before, but some of them were just on the spot. For instance, if there was a suicide bombing in Jerusalem, we were the first in the field to go and look for the men who assisted the suicide bomber. That was our job – to catch them. So we really worked all the time.

Are there any missions that you could talk about now?

Sure. I have a few.

I’m going to tell you a story that, for me, meant a lot. It was a real turning point for me. I had two battles to fight when I was in the unit. One was in the field, but the other one was inside the unit because the perception, for a long time, was that you’re a woman and you don’t belong here. This mission that I’m going to tell you about changed the way that the male fighters and my commanders looked at me.

It took place in one of the villages near Hebron in the West Bank. We had to catch four armed terrorists who came to make an arms deal in one of the restaurants in the village. It was a big operation, and we prepared a long time before for it. We, of course, knew the village very well, and we knew what was going to happen. We trained for those moments.

On the day of the operation, there were – besides my unit and my undercover team – a helicopter that was supposed to come in when we hear “action” over the radio and also a uniformed unit with Jeeps. There were a lot of forces in the field, and they were waiting outside. Me and my partner

– our cover story was husband and wife in most of the operations – took our places on the day of the operation. Our job was to secure a road that leads to the restaurant and try to catch anyone who tries to escape from the main point. So, I’m in my position, and I see all my team. I hear the radio in my ear constantly talking, and then we can see the car of the armed terrorist parking near the restaurant. They go in. Everyone is super-alert because they know what’s going to happen soon. And then, a few minutes after that, we can hear over the radio that the deal was done. They leave the restaurant. And at that moment, we hear over the radio the word “action!”

My team of undercover fighters draws their guns and aims them, and the terrorists also draw their guns and aims them at my team. From nowhere, helicopters cover the sky, and the uniformed forces units rush in to close the main street of the village. It was a very crowded street, so people around us began to process what’s happening and started shouting and throwing stones. There’s chaos around us, and me and my partner are still in our position. We can see everything what’s going on, but nobody knows that we are part of them. We look completely local. We’re starting to move towards the main force. I’m still very alert, but I know in a few moments it’s going to be over and I’m going to disappear into one of the vehicles, because, as I told you before, I can’t draw my gun under any circumstances.

But then one of the terrorists succeeded to run away from the main force. He started to run in our direction with a loaded gun in his hand. My partner and I know that we have to stop him because there’s no force behind us, and he’s really close to us. We know that he thinks we’re local also, and he is really desperate to get away.

When he got closer, my partner shoved him to the ground, and they started to fight between them. But I can see – and it’s happening in a split second – I can see that he’s almost managing to run away. So I pull my gun out from my costume, and I rack it and hold it to his head. He’s on the floor. I’m holding the gun to his head, and he’s aiming a gun at me. And at that moment, everything became quiet. The radio was silent. The entire village was silent, and we just stood there. For me, it was like time stood still. It was seconds, but it felt like time stood still.

He was shocked to see me – an Arab religious woman – holding a gun to his head. And so he just threw down his gun. In an instant, the chaos came back. Stones were thrown at us, and the radio went crazy. Two soldiers came in and arrested him. And I just covered my face and ran into one of the vehicles.

That was a really significant operation for me because then, for a long time, there was a big question mark over my head. They knew that I should go in on the missions because I blend in very well inside, but they never knew what was going to happen in the moment of truth. But that was a while ago, and I was really proud of what I was able to do. The Mista’aravim unit has become more well-known because of the show “Fauda.” Tell us how you connected with the producers of the show.

When I watched “Fauda,” I started to get crazy flashbacks. That’s when I decided to start sharing my story and lecturing about it, because I never spoke about it for years. I didn’t speak about it at all. Two months after I saw “Fauda” for the first time, I was sitting in a Tel Aviv cafe waiting for a meeting, and I saw Avi Issacharoff, the co-creator of the show, sitting two tables from me. I had photos of myself dressed as an Arab woman on my phone, and when I saw Avi, I said to myself, “This cannot be an accident. I have to go speak to him.”

I went over him and I said, “Hi, Avi.” He said, “Oh, do I know you?” I said, “No, but I have to show you something.” I showed him my photo, and he was shocked. He said, “OK, sit down for a minute. We have to talk.”

That was the first time they actually knew that there were female Mista’aravim because Rona-Lee’s character [the woman who plays Nurit in the show] was made up. Her character is not based on me.

I’m still in contact with Avi from time to time, and I never met Lior Raz, Avi’s co-creator. I meet up with Rona-Lee a lot. We do a lot of things together.

Do you give Rona-Lee any tips on how to get into character?

We talk a lot. Actually, not about how to shoot a gun or do the burka and everything, but a lot about inside conflicts and really personal things, actually. Every conversation is really interesting with her. She asks me very good questions. After that, I’m usually like, “I need to think about it.”

Members of Mista’aravim and soldiers arresting a perpetrator

What were your first impressions of “Fau-

da”? In what ways was it different from

your real-life experience in Mista’aravim? It took me by surprise, first of all. Because really, I was concentrating about not thinking about my past for a long time.

The show is pretty authentic. The characters are very authentic. The relationships between the characters, the way they fight, the way they dress up for an operation – it’s all really authentic. Of course, there are Hollywood elements in the show. I mean, nobody goes by himself and kidnaps someone.

One of the people who wrote the show, Lior, was in Mista’aravim, so he knows a lot about what goes on. One of the actors was in Mista’aravim. Also, a lot of professional people on set came from the Mista’aravim unit. That’s why it looks and feels so authentic.

Do they film in Arab villages?

They film in an Arab village but in Israel territory.

You mentioned that you’re a fashion stylist. Tell us what drew you to the job.

After I finished my service, it took me about two, three years to understand what was going on around me and to understand that I no longer have a secret life. After I did that, I started to come back to myself. After four years filled with adrenaline and no regular routine, it was hard for me to be in a regular job from 9 to 5. My childhood dream was to be in those areas of the stage and cinema and costumes, so I started to develop myself in that direction.

Also, I think that each time that I’m on set and I’m dressing somebody up and building up a character for somebody, part of me misses my job as a Mista’aravim because that was my favorite part.

The dressing up?

The dressing up – but it’s more than just appearance. It’s the way to get into your character and to understand that this is your only weapon in the field, so it better be good. It reminds me of that.

When you were in Mista’aravim, did you have a few standard characters that you used to dress up as?

No. We had to be very creative. I could go in one character in the morning and somewhere something will happen then and the operation would keep on going, so I had a bag with multiple costumes. I could change in the middle of the day suddenly. Maybe take my burka off and put a hat on, and I’m a different character. It’s really about creativity and reading the field and understanding that you need to be very flexible with the unknown.

You mentioned that you lived a double life. Did your family know exactly what you were doing when you were in Mista’aravim?

No. No one knew. My father suspected something because my father actually has a similar background. So as a kid, it looked natural for me to go to combat also because I grew up in a military family. But back then, when I was in the unit, it was a secret. I couldn’t share. I couldn’t talk about it at all. Nobody knew. Until a few years ago, nobody knew.

So what did they think you did for the border police?

My father knew that in the border police, there’s a unit that goes into territories with civilian clothes and not a uniform. They thought I was in one of the other units that are not secret. Everybody knew that I was in combat, of course. But they didn’t know that I was in the Mista’aravim.

I’m sure that contributed to the stress – that you weren’t even able to speak about it while you were there. And I’m sure that probably contributed to the relationships that you had with the other members of your unit, the only people you could share your experience with.

Exactly. But I really couldn’t share my experience because I wasn’t a part of them. I was a woman.

“It’s the way to get into your character and to understand that this is your only weapon in the field, so it better be good.”

system can do to check if we’re good enough to be there. But when we leave the army, nobody talks to us. I remember the day that I returned my gun and just went home after four years of living a double life. It’s the same for everybody. It’s really difficult for us to go back to regular civilian life and start living – go to school or get married or get a job. We don’t have any time to process the experiences.

When I talk about my PTSD, I think that’s important because it took me 16 years to understand that I cope with PTSD and to start taking care of me. With a lot of veterans, it’s like that. There’s a lot to do.

What does your group Combat Sisterhood do?

First of all, I started it after I started sharing my battle with PTSD. I used to feel like I didn’t belong because the people I was talking with about my PTSD were all male. But it’s not like talking to someone who really understands you. I was looking for women like me. And I understood that, first of all, there’s a huge power in sharing. Since I started lecturing about my story, I realized that it’s an enormous power to share and to share with other people like me. I wanted to let other women know that they can do it also, and they can help themselves. So I opened up a Facebook group by that name, and I invited other women to get in the group and they said, “OK, this is a safe place to share and ask questions.” And in an instant, I was interviewed in one of the largest newspapers in Israel about my lectures. I just mentioned the group in like two lines. From that article, I was interviewed on almost every TV channel in Israel about women with PTSD. So then I understood, “Wow, nobody ever talks about it.” Because again, women, especially combat women, it’s like a double-edged sword. We fight in the field, but also inside the unit, too, in a way.

It’s a different thing from men with PTSD because the men don’t have a choice. They just go to serve in combat because they are told to. But as women in combat, we fight just to get into those roles. We have to be tougher than the men, in certain ways. And then we say to ourselves, “How can I talk about my suffering because I chose this? I did this to myself.” It’s a very complicated circle, and it’s really hard to break it.

My group is growing. We have more than 150 members so far. We’ve just opened the first therapy group for women with PTSD. We’re going to train women to mentor other women with PTSD with a big nonprofit organization in Israel.

There’s a lot to do. My personal mission, actually – because I have big dreams all the time and I’m very stubborn – is to write a show about my story, because I think that if we see on screen more female characters like this, it could really raise awareness.

I’m also working with FIDF on different projects. I love the organization, and when they reached out to me, I said yes right away to collaborate with them.

Shir, you brought up a few times how you were working through the experiences and the trauma that you went through. There is a big problem with those leaving the army with PTSD. Is it addressed in the Israeli army or is there room for improvement to help the soldiers after they leave the service?

Nowadays, it’s more mainstream – we’re more aware of it as a public. I, myself, am coping with PTSD that I started sharing not long ago. I actually founded a group for women by the name of Combat Sisterhood because, again, with the women, it’s much more difficult.

You know, when we go to the army, especially when we go to a special unit and not just Mista’aravim, we go through a lot of tests and psychological interviews and pretty much everything that the

Shir and her partner dressed up during a mission