The Forgotten War for Women in Prostitution

In 2018, Israel joined a small group of progressive nations by adopting the “Nordic Model” – legislation that criminalizes the purchase of sex while decriminalizing those who sell it. This groundbreaking approach recognizes that women in prostitution are victims requiring support, not criminals deserving punishment. Only eight other countries worldwide have taken this bold step, positioning Israel as a potential leader in combating sexual exploitation.

Yet as Israel grapples with the ongoing war that began in October 2023, another battle rages in the shadows. The current conflict creates a perfect storm for the exploitation of women in prostitution: collective trauma increases demand, economic crisis pushes new women into the trap, and reduced enforcement leaves them all more vulnerable. Now, while society focuses on survival, exploitation intensifies in the shadows.

In February 2025, Israel’s law prohibiting the purchase of sex became permanent, marking the country as one of the few to criminalize buyers rather than sellers. Yet enforcement has plummeted by 94% since 2022, with only 173 fines issued throughout 2024. This isn’t coincidental – law enforcement resources have been diverted to the war effort, and the issue has slipped down the public priority list. The chasm between legislation and reality reveals that society has yet to internalize the gravity of this phenomenon.

Indeed, the public discourse continues to focus on whether prostitution is a free choice or coercion. But the crucial question isn’t whether entering prostitution is a choice – it’s what happens to the ability to choose afterward.

I don’t write from conservatism or moralism. On the contrary – I believe in individual liberty. And precisely from this liberal stance, I oppose prostitution. Even John Stuart Mill, the father of liberalism, understood there are limits: a person cannot sell themselves into slavery because doing so destroys their very ability to choose differently in the future. Prostitution creates exactly this situation – it destroys future autonomy.

The difference between prostitution and other professions is essential, not one of degree. In other professions – medicine, teaching, even therapeutic massage – a person provides a service while maintaining a separation between professional and personal identity. In prostitution, however, the person themselves becomes an object. A woman in prostitution doesn’t do something – she herself is done to. She doesn’t provide a defined service but becomes a tool for gratification. This is a transformation from subject to object, and it damages the capacity for self-definition.

The process that unfolds in prostitution doesn’t require special research to understand. When a person in their entirety is required to nullify themselves and their desires before another, when their whole being becomes a tool in service of another, something fundamental in the capacity for self-definition is damaged. The emotional detachment required to survive in such conditions, the social stigma that makes transitioning to other professions difficult, and the cumulative damage to self-worth – all create a trap that becomes increasingly difficult to escape, regardless of the circumstances of entry.

We’ve all heard the distinction between “clean prostitution” and “forced prostitution” – as if there’s prostitution by free women who chose the profession, and prostitution by trafficking victims. This distinction is convenient, but it ignores the essential point: the fundamental damage to the ability to choose is identical. In reality, the boundaries are blurred and the trap is the same.

The case of A., a young Brazilian woman raped at Ben Gurion Airport by a border control officer in 2024, illustrates how reality blurs these distinctions. A. was part of a trafficking network that brought in 18 million shekels over a decade. The women in the network were forced to create a secret communication group to warn each other about violent clients. But even those who enter “clean prostitution” are exposed to the same violence, the same exploitation, the same erosion of the ability to choose.

International experience raises difficult questions about claims that legalization solves the exploitation problem. In countries where prostitution is legal, legitimization hasn’t led to improved conditions for women or reduced trafficking. On the contrary – increased demand creates pressure to find more and more women to supply it.

Amsterdam, the symbol of legalization, is now relocating its famous Red-Light District outside the city center. Among the official reasons – the fact that women have become a tourist attraction, with crowds of visitors coming to stare and mock as if it were a circus. Even after decades, legalization hasn’t protected women – it has only granted legitimacy and additional avenues for their exploitation.

The liberal argument of “free choice” sounds nice in theory, but it crashes against reality. True autonomy requires real options, and moreover: even if someone enters willingly, perhaps without understanding the price, perhaps thinking of it as temporary work during wartime, the process itself erodes the ability to leave. This is the real trap – prostitution destroys exactly what it claims to enable: the freedom to choose.

The paradox was sharply illustrated in a recent interview with Eyal Berkowitz (a prominent Israeli figure). On one hand, he said he wouldn’t be happy if his daughter engaged in prostitution. On the other, he asked: “Everywhere in the world there’s prostitution, why shouldn’t there be here?” These two statements, side by side, expose a deep hypocrisy: society accepts prostitution as a “fact of life,” as something inevitable – but only as long as it involves other people’s daughters.

 The war will end, but the women trapped in prostitution will remain there. While Israeli society breathes a sigh of relief at the end of hostilities, they will remain with irreversible damage to their ability to choose. This is the quiet war that will continue long after the other one ends.

We must recognize that the fight against prostitution isn’t about moralism or conservatism but about protecting basic human rights – the right to autonomy, dignity, and genuine choice. The law exists, but without enforcement and without deep societal change, it remains a dead letter. It’s time we stop treating prostitution as “inevitable” and start fighting for the true freedom of every woman in our society.

Israel’s experience carries a universal lesson: progressive legislation means nothing without sustained commitment to enforcement. Countries considering similar laws must understand that passing legislation is only the first step. The real test lies in maintaining enforcement even during national crises, when vulnerable populations need protection most.

Whether in times of war or peace, economic boom or recession, a society’s commitment to its most vulnerable members cannot be conditional. The quiet wars – against exploitation, trafficking, and the destruction of human autonomy – must continue especially when the public attention turns elsewhere.