"We have stony hearts toward the living and we erect monuments of stone to the dead. A living memorial is the only kind worthy of living beings, whether they are with us here or have gone Beyond. Better name after him the street in or near which he lived than to erect some obstruction in stone, for the one comes into our life and the other we pass by carelessly. But better set to work the noble ideas which he had and do, as far as we may and can, that which he longed to do. Thus he remains in our lives, the living factor that he was, and the memory of him does not become part of a tombstone or a static statue." -- William Z. Spiegelman.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

High Noon at Kfar Etzion: Leaves from a Palestine Traveler's Notebook

Published in Land and Life, February 1948

We left Jerusalem early in the morning. The sun which rose over the horizon seemed to throw knowing glances on the hill slopes over which bullets buzzed and fear stalked only a few hours ago during the dusk-to-dawn curfew.

We were cautioned that the trip southward was not too safe. A visit to Hebron, nest of rabid Husseinism since the 1929 massacre, and even passing through Christian Bethlehem were, under the prevailing security conditions, out of the question.

To be sure, we were not entirely without cover. Our automobile was manned by one of those almost legendary Egged drivers who are reputed for their mastery of the highways, for their agility in quick maneuvers and effective defense. A young man whose posture indicated familiarity with weapons of defense was also among us and his pockets were rather bulging. Yet caution was the order of the day.

The Jaffa-Tel Aviv skirmishes, with their not inconsiderable casualties on both sides, were not far behind. Press reports carrying first intimations of the recommendation of the United Nations Palestine Commission for the establishment of a Jewish State had begun to come in. A lull set in, but the few days of relative quiet and the apparently peaceful landscape gave to the observer the foreboding of a storm to come.

Our last glimpse of the city was a reminder of the virtual state of siege in which Jerusalem had lived through the summer. A detachment of the Seventh Airborne Division, which earned its laurels in World War II, engaged in a task of doubtful heroism. The British lads who played so eminent a part in the Battle of the Bulge were now reduced to performing the unheroic job of identifying and searching -- armed to the teeth -- the unarmed and non-descript Yemenite vendors of a market on the outskirts of Jerusalem. Our party, too, was halted, identified and searched for the third time since we started from the Hotel Eden only a short while ago.

Travel on the Jerusalem-Hebron highway seemed almost like relaxation after the tenseness of the city atmosphere. One's feeling was akin to that experienced while riding through the mountains of California, not taking into account, of course, the knowledge that here you were rolling along acres of soil upon which ancient and sacred history left its indelible impress.

Suddenly you are shaken out of your complacency. You realize that a strange silence pervades the highway and the surrounding countryside. There is hardly a moving vehicle or a traveler on foot to be seen. By the time we reached Rachel's Tomb -- that sanctified spot where one of the world's greatest loves came to an end -- we noted that very few of the "children" for whom Mother Rachel has been "weeping" throughout the generations are assembled here to offer the customary prayers.

In normal times, we are told, this Biblical shrine, which was repaired and preserved for posterity by Sir Moses Montefiore, draws large throngs of worshippers and tourists during this season of the year. Today we discovered inside the enclosure of Rachel's Tomb a lone aged Yemenite who, prostrate on the stone bench, was reciting Psalms with a piercing chant. But he appeared as if he were an immobile and integral part of the ancient site.

The Shamash, whose task it is to explain and minister to the religious needs of the visitors, was surprised not less than pleased to see us on this Elul day.

"Yamim Noraim Baim" (Days of Awe are coming . . .) he whispered in a heavy Sephardic accent without making clear whether his words were to be taken literally, as a sort of prophecy in the land of prophets, or figuratively as a reference to the forthcoming High Holidays.

But Joseph, whom the Keren Kayemeth in Jerusalem had appointed as our guide and mentor of this trip, is a hard taskmaster. "This is not the time for sentimentalizing about the past or speculating about the political and military consequences of the recommendations of the United Nations Palestine Commission. The boys of Kfar Etzion expect you at noon. We have a great many things to see in this part of the country. We must not keep them waiting," he commands. Some members of our party wished to linger on in meditation. Others, particularly the ladies, were eager to complete the purchase of Mezzuzoth, amulets and souvenirs for friends in America and England, did not relish the idea of being hurried.

The mention of Kfar Etzion evokes, however, a responsive chord in the writer's heart. Well did he remember one evening in Manhattan in the winter of 1943 when the war for the Four Freedoms was still being fought. Rabbi Meir Berlin, Mizrachi leader and then acting chairman of the Keren Kayemeth, had come by air from Jerusalem to propose a land purchase program which would fortify and safeguard the Jewish future of Jerusalem.

"Sooner or later the status of the Holy City will be determined. It is necessary that we undertake now, in the midst of the war, to purchase tracts of land in the hills surrounding Jerusalem to the south and establish a chain of new settlements there," he told his somewhat astonished audience. "Geulath Svivoth Jerusaelm" was the slogan he applied to the program which has progressively gained the financial support of Orthodox groups. Kfar Etzion is one of the hill settlements that were founded as part of this plan.

Twenty-one kilometers due south our automobile turned into a side road in a westward direction. The Judean mountains rise here to a height of approximately thousands of meters above sea level. Faint traces of ancient terraces are still discernible on the slopes. As a whole, the sense unfolding here to the visitor's eye is forbidding barrenness: a bleakness which spreads all around to be punctured, at considerable distances, by low stone and mud houses in small Arab villages clinging to the cliffs.

Centuries ago a thriving vineyard country, these slopes almost audibly cry out against the ruthless and wasteful treatment to which they have been subjected. The only sign of life one sees in entering what has become known as "Kfar Etzion Bloc" is a verdant carob tree which stands as an eloquent survivor of an ancient forest which must have covered this neighborhood once upon a time.

"Honi Ha'maagal, the Hebrew prototype of Rip Van Winkle, must have spent his 70 years asleep under a carob tree like this," the Hebrew scholar of our party attempts to inject a bit of humor into the oppressive mood created by the bleakness of the environment.

"Here are his modern disciples," responds the young Haganah member, pointing to a group of Bedouins who -- lo and behold -- are resting comfortably under the carob tree, fully protected by its shade from the blazing sun. The noise of the wheels does not disturb them at all.

The speed of the highway gives way to a painful creeping against which the American-made tires protest audibly, threatening at any moment to produce a puncture. The terrain is literally covered with white rocks of all shapes and sizes. Here it seems as if someone, by a malicious and hateful design, had assembled these rocks from all over the universe and strewn this place with them in order to cover the natural fertility and loveliness of these mountain slopes. On second thought, one muses: is it possible that the ancient accounts of this terrain were not too accurate? Do we perhaps see here nature in its original state of rawness?

As if reading our thought, Joe interrupts the train of thought by pointing out a verdant patch extending over several kilometers on a southern slope, a veritable and magnificent oasis in the desert. . . .

"This is living proof of what this mountainside is capable of producing and looking like. Here is a Russian monastery which was founded about 40 years ago. The Russians, not encountering any opposition, were able to restore the fertility of the soil. Several kilometers beyond we come to our destination: Kfar Etzion. You will see what has been done in a much shorter period."

But before proceeding to the settlements, we ascend the central height from which the full panorama of the Kfar Etzion bloc unfolds: Kfar Etzion to the south; Massuoth Yitzhok to the west; Revadim to the north and En Zurim to the northeast -- a veritable ring of outposts of civilization in a stony wilderness.

Surveying the field, one quickly comes to the conclusion that the Keren Kayemeth, in acquiring the land, and the Colonization Department in establishing the settlements, were guided by weighty considerations of cooperative effort for progress and security. Kfar Etzion, the oldest of the group, is almost contiguous to Massuoth Yitzhak, the second of the group, a settlement which bears the name of Palestine's Chief Rabbi, Dr. Isaac Halevi Herzog. The latter is within walking contact with En Zurim, not far from Bethlehem. En Zurim again is linked with Revadim, the youngest of the group which is manned by Hashomer Hatzair settlers. The first three, constituting the core, are occupied by the religious pioneers of the Hapoel Ha'Mizrachi. Set on the mountain tops to the south, these settlements serve the same purpose which animated the builders of Kiryath Anavim, Maaleh Ha'Chemisha and Nveh Ilan (situated on the Nachlath Long Island tract) to the west of Jerusalem -- outposts of modern cultivation and, if need be, of strategic defense.

We pass through Hirabth Zachariah, an Arab village which is reputed to have in its confines the tomb of the Prophet Zachariah. The place could not possibly win a prize for cleanliness or orderly cultivation of the remnants of ancient grape lanes. Through a winding trail we ascend to the top of the 965 meter height upon which Kfar Etzion nestles.

Joshua, a member of the Kibbutz secretariat, takes us quickly in hand. He is a walking encyclopedia of facts and figures. One of the original members of Kvutzath Abraham, the group of religious pioneers which settled here, he is eager to share his information with us. An old-timer at Kfar Etzion, he tells us proudly about the twins with which his charming wife recently presented him. The fresh innocence of the blond and blue-eyed children inspires one to fervently believe that the peace of this mountain with its cool breezes and transparent refreshing air will never be disturbed.

"The Jewish National Fund placed this land at our disposal. Our Kvutzah was comprised at that time of about 100 members. During the first year our work was concentrated on clearing the rocks from the land. We soon found that this land, unsuitable for other crops, is excellent for vegetables and good for plantations. During the first year we covered 100 dunams with fruit trees. The second year we extended the area to 200 dunams. Today, with a population of 250, including 60 children, we are deriving our livelihood from cultivating our orchards on which we are growing the best apples in the world, Japanese and European plums, figs, olives, grapes, almonds and cherries. Our clearing work has progressed so much that we can now plan to extend our orchards by another 400 dunams.

"Incidentally, the young trees which you see through the window are the beginning of the Rabbi Meir Berlin Forest planted with the contributions of your friends in the United States."

"Aren't those trees a bit undersized?" we cautiously inquired.

"They are the second set of saplings. The first set was destroyed one night by our neighboring cousins."

"How are the relations with the Arab neighbors?"

"To be sure, the Arabs of Hebron and vicinity did not bring us bread and salt when we arrived here. In the beginning their attitude was not indicative of peaceful intentions, but as time passed we established a cordial relationship with them. We helped them with some of our equipment. On occasion we also exchanged shots in the dark of the night with marauders who, when caught, claimed they came from distant parts. Today, we maintain at Kfar Etzion, as anywhere else in the land, a position of watchful waiting."

"Is there a telephone in this settlement?"

"Well, that would be too much to expect. We did apply to the British authorities for the installation of a telephone 4 years ago, but our request has not yet been acted upon."

"What would you do in case of an attack?"

"We trust in God and rely on our ability to defend ourselves. We were the first but, as you have noticed, we are no longer alone in these mountains. In Massuoth Yitzhok, in En Zurim, and in Rebadim we have younger brothers whom we can quickly inform by means of our own signaling system. The average age of our adult male population is 27. We have no illusions. We know who we are and what is the value of a Jew's life in the world today. Nearly all of us come from Poland. Most of us have undergone great hardships before we reached Eretz Israel.

"This mountain top on which we are building our own and our people's future is our last retreat. Here we have our Synagogue, our library, our orchards, our stone-cutting industry, our hard-earned foundations for a new life which we dedicated to our ideal. The rocks which are strewn all around us, apparently obstacles to growth and an eyesore to the landscape, we are determined to convert from stumbling blocks into stepping stones. To a considerable degree we have already done so. These stones, which are the raw material for our budding industry, can also be weapons of defense. Here we are and here we are going to stay. From here we shall not budge. So help us God."

It was high noon at Kfar Etzion. The pioneers, medium-sized, brown-faced, of sure and determined step, started to leave their orchard in the direction of the community dining hall. A group of about 30 middle-aged men and women, city dwellers who had come for their vacations to Kfar Etzion's recreation center Beth Ovadiah, walked leisurely in the same direction in response to the gong. The stone cutters, dressed in dust-covered overalls, came marching in almost military formation. Joshua, looking at the sentry who stood guard with the traditional Kippah (skullcap) on his head, excused himself. He had important duties to attend to. It was high noon at Kfar Etzion, but dispositions for the time when shadows will fall had to be made.

Sir Leon, a member of our party and an eager chess player, thought the remaining hour offered a good opportunity for a long-delayed engagement to play a game of chess in the cool mountain breeze. When Joshua returned, he threw a penetrating glance at the board and in a matter-of-fact manner observed: "That Rook, having command over the field in all directions, is a powerful means of defense. . . . "

It was not entirely clear whether Joshua's observation was offered as advice for the winning of the chess game, or as an allegory on the strategic importance of Kfar Etzion.

Editor's note: 
We have decided to supplement the above text with a letter written by William Z. Spiegelman's wife, Dora, to her children. As the reader will see, there is an overlap of material.

Saturday
Aug. 23, '47
Jerusalem

Dear children:

We returned yesterday afternoon from the big tour of Galalee [sic] and the Emels [sic] hot, tried, hungry and enthusiastic.

Jewish Palestine is something to stir your soul with pride, awe and determination to go on to bigger and better things for the country.

The contrast between an Arab village and a Jewish one is so great that one could never really show such a picture. People would sympathize with the Arabs and feel sorry for them. They would not see the lazy Arab men sitting in the cafes and in the towns, gossiping and smoking and sweating from 4:30 in the morning until nightfall.

It is very funny and tragic to see the husband riding on a tiny donkey, the wife running behind with a big bundle on her head, prodding the donkey with a stick. What your eyes behold in Palestine!

But they also behold Lake Kinnereth set like a blue jewel in the hills, tho the region of Tiberias is very hot. We have some beautiful settlements there but not enough of them.

The orange country is beautiful. Safed is old and very picturesque tho they have a few fairly modern hotels. The air there is marvelous as the town is on a mountain over three thousand feet high. They claim their people all live to be 95 or older.

Near Safed is the Jewish fort of Be'eri. It occupies a hill that overlooks and controls the entire region. There we saw the Jewish flag flying in Palestine. It was a thrill and I took a picture of it.

We saw Ein Shofet, Kfar Blum where we met Mr. Skiddel, who remembered you, Ruth, and the Phil incident. He is here with his wife and child, and they seem satisfied.

One of the most interesting industries is the fishing industry. They have these ponds, quite large, where they raise carp for Jewish consumption. It is quite a science and gives the Kibbutzim an added income. Kfar Blum has three large ponds.

We went up to the Syrian Border to see the source of the Jordan, which incidentally is a stream so wide one can jump over it.

The mountain stream that is the source of the Jordan is swift, clear and cold. We washed our feet in it, so we were baptized. I stepped across a small bridge to the Syrian side and Mr. Levine, one of the J.N.F. men who was our escort almost had a fit, I could have been arrested. All I wanted was a better shot of the stream.

I do hope our pictures come out so you can see how we look with the proper background.

Our party consisted of Yehiel, Yizhak, Mr. Levine and you guessed it Judy, Lady Simon. I will have to devote one whole week to her alone, she really is a character.

We were at Ein Harod, one of the big settlements yesterday on our way home. It consists of 1,200 people. I want to go back to see it as I was too tired to get out of the car. Do you want to know why? Well, the dear British were stopping all cars on the roads and searching them. We were only stopped six times, had to get out, have the baggage and car searched, look at all passports, until I wanted to howl. I did kid them each time and made them feel foolish, but that's orders and they have to carry them out.

At Eim Harod a truck came in from the fields for lunch loaded with boys and girls of David's age. They were singing and that is the first singing I have heard in Eretz [Israel].

I thought of you, David, and wondered would you be willing to do what these youngsters are doing.

If you pass some rocky barren place and a little further on you see a beautiful settlement with nice houses, trees, flowers, fields, it is hard to believe that a few years ago this was barren ground. When you realize what went into the making of the settlement you are speechless in the face of such courage.

You must see the stones and arid ground to understand. Some of the soil, for instance, near the Jordan is very even and rich.

We are so busy today tho I would rather stay in bed than do anything else. I am just out. I just had breakfast in my room as I don't want to get dressed yet and I said I just must write.

The Sheriyans have phoned many times and wanted us for dinner but we begged off and are going to Kiddush at 11, at 12 we have another Kiddush. At one dinner at the Gravitzskis. She is a physician and a most charming woman. He is an old friend of daddy's and Editor of Paleor. He is a very warm, friendly person. At 4 p.m. Epstein is having a reception. At six we have to see Yehiel. How will I stand it? Yizhak is flying home on Monday so you will have genuine "regots."

Please write to Gert and tell her we are safe and sound. We went thru miles of Arabs peacefully. In fact they made a new peace treaty with the Haganah after our boys showed them what's what. They killed a sheep and roasted it and all sat down to eat and buried a dagger. How long will it last? Your guess is as good as mine.

We expect trouble now that the British decided to send the 4,500 to Germany. That is sheer provocation and there is to be a fast here Monday.

On Wednesday we are going to the Negev for two days. We have covered a lot of territory and find Palestine is not small. That is British propaganda. There is plenty of room for several million Jews. Also they can't convince me there are over a million Arabs. That isn't true. That too is propaganda.

Please write as we haven't had a letter from any of you in over a week.

Judy, don't be lazy. Write at once. Tell us all the gossip. How are our friends and neighbors? We haven't had time to write any cards. I will try to do that tomorrow. The pace here for tourists is fast. They surely do fix the Ameddieans. I understand Mrs Ebin is on her way here. Won't she be surprised to see us! Regards to Jacque.

Loads of love and kisses to all three of you from Dad and myself.

Lovingly,
Mother

P.S. We went up to Minarah, a settlement on the the top of a mountain near the Syrian border. A very strategic position. There is no water there. Outside of rain water in the winter they have water hauled in trucks every day.

When we were there on Thurs, 12 o'clock the water had not come yet and they had not washed or shaved. They have about 60 people and 27 small children and babies.

They work the slopes of the mountain and grow things there. But they have the most magnificent view in Palestine. From the mountain top you see the entire Jordan Valley spread out like a carpet, the lakes and all the hills.

We went thru Nazareth and it is really beautiful. We were near Bethlehem, in a different direction on Monday. We could not go to Bethlehem as it is dangerous. We visited Rachel's tomb on the way to Bethlehem. Jesus picked the nicest places to live in.

Mother

2nd P.S. Coming down the mountain we met the water trucks going up. We were relieved.

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