There are moments in a Bollywood film when logic politely takes a break. The hero looks at the heroine, music begins without any visible musicians, a gentle breeze moves her hair, and forty dancers emerge from behind a tree already knowing exactly the same choreography.
Now imagine that, at precisely that moment, an Israeli walks into the scene with a laptop and asks, “Very impressive, but what is the business model?”
It sounds like the opening of an Indian comedy, yet it is based on a real business story. In 2019, Eros International, a company closely associated with Indian entertainment, announced a collaboration with Artimedia, an Israeli advertising technology company. The aim was to establish a video advertising platform for the Indian market, allowing advertisements to be purchased and displayed automatically and in real time alongside television and entertainment content.
Bollywood brought the films, the songs, the stars and the audience. Israel brought the algorithm, the data and the eternal Israeli question: Who makes the decision here?
Much More Than a Film
Bollywood is not merely a film industry. It is an economic universe. A successful film can become music, television, digital content, streaming, advertising campaigns, brands and a family argument that lasts longer than the film itself.
Eros knew how to produce, acquire and distribute Indian content to large audiences around the world. It knew how to attract viewers and keep them watching. Artimedia arrived with a different question: What can be done commercially with all that attention?
The Israeli technology was designed to analyse audiences and match advertisements more precisely. Instead of asking only how many people watched, the system tries to understand who watched, when, on which device and what might interest them.
While the viewer wonders whether the hero will stop the wedding of his childhood sweetheart, the algorithm is already deciding which car should be offered to him on the way.
Two Ears, Two Meetings
A meeting between an Indian company and an Israeli company is not merely a meeting between two businesses. It can be a meeting between two very different ways of listening, understanding and interpreting the world.
Indian ears and Israeli ears may hear the same meeting quite differently. Both sides sit in the same room, speak English, watch the same presentation and even nod at the same moments. Yet, by the end, each may believe that an entirely different discussion took place.
From the Israeli perspective, the transaction should ideally be signed before lunch. He has arrived with tasks, targets, schedules and a management team waiting for him to return home with results, an approved pilot and preferably a signed agreement.
The Indian side may move its head gently from side to side. The Israeli studies the movement and wonders: Is that yes, no, perhaps, or simply a yoga exercise for the neck?
At other moments, a confident and courteous answer arrives: “Yes, sir,” or “Yes, ma’am.” The difficulty is that the yes may not answer the question that was asked. Perhaps the question was not fully understood. Perhaps it was not a question to which yes or no was relevant. Rather than interrupt, request another explanation or make the guest uncomfortable, the most pleasant answer in the room is selected.
The Israeli hears yes and concludes that the matter is settled and work can begin. The Indian may mean “I heard you,” “I respect you,” “We shall consider it,” or simply, why spoil a good meeting with an unnecessarily precise answer?”
Both sides leave the room satisfied. The Israeli is certain that the deal is moving forward. The Indian is pleased that the meeting went well. Several days later, they discover that they attended the same meeting, but not necessarily the same negotiation.
The Israeli Runs, the Indian Orders Chai
Their relationship with time can also be very different. In the traditional Indian approach, there can appear to be all the time in the world. If the deal does not mature in this lifetime, the negotiation can surely continue in the next one.
The Israeli is not designed for the next life. He has no time. He has tasks, product developments, targets, follow-up calls and a return flight. In his mind, every meeting must end with a next step, a date and the name of the person responsible for delivering it.
He checks his watch and asks, “So when do we begin?” The Indian smiles and invites him to have masala chai.
The Israeli sees a delay. The Indian sees a process. The Israeli wants to advance the transaction. The Indian first wants to understand the person with whom he may do business. Both are heading towards the same destination. They simply disagree on whether they should arrive today, next month or in the next lifetime.
Then the Indian Tells the Israeli to Hurry
Yet the India of today is not always the India of the past.
As an Israeli who has spent years attending business meetings in India, I have learned that not every meeting must end with a decision, that not every yes is permission to begin working, and that another cup of masala chai may move a deal forward more effectively than another slide in the presentation.
That is why one of the moments that causes me the greatest discomfort in recent years is when the Indian side looks at me and says, “We need to move fast.”
For a moment, I panic. That was supposed to be our role. The Israeli is expected to push, hurry, set targets, send reminders and ask why the document promised yesterday has still not been signed. The Indian is expected to smile, move his head and suggest that the matter be discussed after chai.
But India has changed. Indian companies have become more global. Competition has intensified. Younger managers operate at an international pace, and customers expect presentations, prices and schedules quickly. Today, in some cases, it is the Indian side that wants the presentation immediately, the price by evening and the commercial proposal by the following morning.
The Israeli, having invested years in learning patience, suddenly finds himself saying, “One moment.” Perhaps we should first have something to drink?
This may be the most amusing sign that business relations between India and Israel have matured. Israelis have learned that they do not always need to run. Indians have learned that sometimes it is useful. When the Indian urges the Israeli to hurry, the cultural differences have not disappeared. They have simply exchanged roles for a moment.
When Differences Become an Advantage
Once the differences are understood, they stop being an obstacle and can become an advantage.
The Israeli side brings speed, innovation, directness, creativity and a powerful drive for results. The Indian side brings patience, deep knowledge of the market, networks of relationships, an ability to navigate complex organisations and a longer view.
The Israeli knows how to develop a solution to a problem nobody knew existed. The Indian knows to whom it must be presented, who truly makes the decision and how many cups of chai may be required before someone says so aloud.
When each side recognises the strengths of the other, they can complement rather than collide. This is one of the keys to a good transaction between an Israeli company and an Indian company: do not try to turn the other side into a local version of yourself. Understand what it brings to the table and how both sides can benefit.
All this depends, of course, on sufficient trust and a stable relationship. Technology can open the door. A good presentation can bring both sides into the room. A contract can define what each is expected to do. Personal relationships and trust determine what happens when the schedule changes, the customer is delayed or the “yes” heard in the meeting turns out to have been very polite, perhaps.
Far Beyond Bollywood
The collaboration between Eros and Artimedia represented a fascinating and less familiar side of business relations between India and Israel. For years, cooperation between the two countries was associated mainly with defence, agriculture, water and technology. In this case, cinema, entertainment, advertising and technology met in the same room.
India does not need Israel to teach it how to tell stories. It has been doing so successfully for thousands of years. Nor can Israel teach Bollywood how to create stars, songs or a family drama in which two brothers separated at birth meet by chance twenty years later, just in time to save the family business.
Israel can, however, contribute technologies that help distribute content, analyse audiences and create commercial value from attention.
In the end, the combination is rather simple. Bollywood brings the drama. Israel brings the algorithm. India brings scale. Israel brings urgency. The lawyers bring the contract. And the Indian, smiling calmly, brings another masala chai.
At least until the moment he checks his watch and tells the Israeli: Sir, we really need to move faster.