A Life To Live...

by Israel Kipen

  The first few days in Haifa were a true holiday for me. Naomi was still teaching, as she had been back home, but as the schools were closed for the summer vacations, she was free to show me hospitality. I was relaxed and fell easily into the slow unhurried pace of the life around me. While my thinking underwent a change and I began to view life from a different perspective, I was careful, nonetheless, not to let my emotions with regard to Israel take hold of me; I knew how vulnerable I was on that account. I was also mindful not to jump to hasty conclusions on the basis of random observations or encounters.

  Of my stay in Haifa, one particular incident remains with me to this day. The owner of the hotel on the Carmel where I stayed kept a close eye on his guests. The house was occupied mostly by American tourists. Apart from basic civilities, I did not trouble him, nor did he show any particular interest in me. On the third day of my stay, however, I noticed that he was suddenly paying me more attention. He was, in fact, going out of his way to be attentive and to concern himself with my comfort. The matter puzzled me at first, but became clear when, towards evening, on my approach to collect my key, he said that Joseph Sapir M.K., former Cabinet Minister, had been trying to reach me.

  My notes from the trip – the only diary I possess – are devoted quite extensively to Naomi Noff. I quote here verbatim:

  “I knew her as an idealist… as teacher… I was only 14 when she left… but from the minute we entered the car… every sentence of hers was a revelation of a person who lives in a world of higher values, penetrates deeply to understand and evaluate events and possesses a natural degree of humility that is the privilege of (the) truly great. Her love and pride for Israel is so abounding… and yet the understanding for the Jew from outside is there without malice, although she did not hold herself back, already in the car, from asking me the obvious question: why don’t you come to settle here? As soon as she said it she admitted that she failed in her resolve not to raise the question… What an inner peace is in her heart and mind because of her sense of perspective… her understanding of the human soul is fascinating.

  “I rang David Hacohen M.K. to say ‘Shalom’ and within an hour he was at my hotel and took me for a drive. The same evening he came to take me home for dinner. I met there a very prominent American lady, an Israeli poet Susman, a painter Meirovitch and his wife who is a novelist. The Hacohen home is an unbelievable treasure house, more a private museum than a home… pottery nothing younger than 2,500 years and glass… of similar vintage… earlier this day the Russian ambassador lunched there.”

  From Haifa, I went by train to Jerusalem. As we neared the city and began to climb the steep mountains around it with the engines straining in the ascent, I gained an insight into the topographical problems the defenders and liberators of the city had faced during the Arab siege of 1948. I arrived in Jerusalem at 7.00 p.m. and made my way by taxi to the King David Hotel. It so happened that I came on the eve of Tisha B’Av, the day of fasting and prayer in commemoration of the destruction of the Temples in Jerusalem. I became acutely mindful of the coincidence inherent in my arrival to that city, which was just then the focus of all religious Jews throughout the world. It also occurred to me that the dining rooms at the hotel might be closed. But as I passed for the first time through the revolving doors of the King David Hotel, I was astonished to come upon a scene so at odds with the dictates of the calendar. It showed not the slightest hint of Tisha B’Av. Instead the lobby was packed with people in high spirits. The dining-room, to which I came down after changing, was as packed as the lobby. Nearly all of those present were American Jews, and the waiter barely managed to find me a seat in the midst of one group. What caused this high-spirited activity was, I learnt, the official opening of the new Hadassah Hospital in Jerusalem. Hundreds of women belonging to the Hadassah movement in America, and their husbands, had come to Israel to witness and participate in the historic event.

  I had official business to attend to in Jerusalem. I visited the Hakiryah where the Ministry of Foreign Affairs was located. There I met Harry Levin, the first Consul in Australia, who made a point of telling me that he now ranked above Mordechai Nurock. I also visited the Jewish Agency on Keren Hayesod business. While there, I called on Mr Yaacov Tsur whom I knew from Australia and who had recently taken over as Chairman of the World Board of the Jewish National Fund. I had intended to stay with him for a few minutes only, but when he saw me, he greeted me most warmly and bade me sit down. That same morning, he said, he had also been visited by Benzion Patkin. After some time, he began to open his heart to me. He proved to be in mood different from the one I would have expected, given his promotion to an important position. What troubled him was that he was at a loss as to how he may go about his task, particularly as, a few days earlier, Ben Gurion had risen in the Knesset and made disparaging remarks about the very existence of the Jewish National Fund. Ben Gurion, in fact, denigrated the whole Zionist movement, along with its activities and its very raison d’etre, sparing not even the JNF which had been the first Zionist fund and the earliest form of worldwide Jewish identification with the dream of national redemption through the reclamation of the Land and ownership of its soil. “How do they expect me to carry on its work under such circumstances?” Yaacov Tsur said. He was patently distraught and held his head in his hands in desperation. I understood and appreciated his dilemma.

  Here, I cite from my travel diary again:

  “After leaving Tsur (I spent) half an hour with Temkin of the Federation Office, then half an hour with Kreutner (Keren Hayesod), then with Dr Lovy (Jewish National Fund) and in Dr Berman’s office where the staff was very kind and helpful and my tours have been arranged for Sunday to Beersheba and Sdom and for Monday and Tuesday to the Galil. At 1.00 p.m. I was invited to lunch with Eliyahu Dobkin, Ussoskin and Berman of the Keren Hayesod at Hotel Eden which is close to the Knesset and where all the top brass are dining. We discussed emissaries and appeal techniques and some very frank statements were made by them as well as by myself… Returned to the hotel for a break… and before I left for my second appointment with Kreutner at 5.00 p.m. I received a call from the secretary of the General Zionists in the Knesset inviting me to come there as a guest. I’m going there right after dinner at 8 for 1 hour.

  “The building of the Knesset is temporary and so are all other facilities. I came at the time when Moshe Dayan (then Minister for Agriculture) was answering in the debate on agriculture… After staying there for half an hour in the gallery, I was invited to the Parliamentary buffet, met Member of Knesset Zelman Abramov of the General Zionists and then… at 9 they took me into the Knesset proper, showing me around.”

  The “very frank statements” referred to related to the quality of the secondary emissaries who were sent for the United Israel Appeal. Many of those who came to continue the “donkey work” after the star openers had left were insufficiently equipped for their task. Often their English was inadequate and their articulateness limited. The goodwill of Australian Jewry towards Israel deserved better, I argued. In reply, the officials of the Keren Hayesod admitted that they were well aware of the problem, but, unfortunately, the fact was that suitable representatives such as I requested were in short supply.

  My second meeting with Kreutner was very significant. He had an invitation to the official opening of the Hadassa Hospital which was to take place that afternoon, but he decided to forego what was essentially a status symbol event to spend time with me. We sat in a cafe where we discussed different issues pertaining to Israeli society at the time. In particular, we touched on Israel-Diaspora relations, on the widening gap between Israel and world Jewry in general and on their respective attitudes to Zionism in particular. The whole subject was a sensitive and emotive one at the time. Kreutner admitted that the attitude of his own children to Jewry outside Israel was one of indifference, which reflected the atmosphere prevailing in the classroom and in society beyond. I posed to Kreutner the rather bold rhetorical question whether the time w
as not ripe for world Jewry to send emissaries in turn to Israel, informing Israeli youth of Jewish communities outside with whom they may then develop a greater sense of kinship. Kreutner knew very well what I was driving at and appreciated my concern. On leaving, I had the distinct impression that I had left him with food for thought.

  Jerusalem’s impact upon me was both emotional and spiritual. From the moment I stepped out of the train, I was aware that my every step was linked to authentic Jewish history – whether in the old narrow streets or in the wide modern roads where the whitestone buildings were built from rocks hewn out from the surrounding hills and with such studied forethought as to preserve a consistency of architecture and singular uniqueness of character. The hills surrounding the city which was at the time still divided seemed unreal in their distance. The sight of barbed wire arbitrarily separating the two parts of the city with trans-Jordanian soldiers manning the other side was not a happy picture. It brought home fully the severity of the Arab-Israel problem and the seeming intractability of the situation. The King David Hotel was on the very edge of the divided city. Its rear faced the dividing line. The view from that point was as enchanting as it was challenging.

  I bade a very reluctant farewell to Jerusalem on the morning of August 4th and arrived in Tel Aviv at 10.00 a.m. The first impact made upon me by that city was not a favourable one. It lacked both the character of Jerusalem and the scenic beauty of Haifa. Yet this was the largest Jewish city in the world. The Dan Hotel where I stayed had the advantage of a sea-front in those hot summer days. I had intended to travel next day by plane to Eilat with Naomi who had agreed to join me. The Arkiya internal airline operated a DCS service to Eilat. To my disappointment, I was told that only one seat was left, but I decided, nonetheless, to take it. When I arrived at Lod airport early the following morning and entered the plane, there were only three other passengers in it, one of whom happened to be a secretary from the Zionist office in Sydney. I was deeply saddened by the episode. I subsequently recounted the incident to Naomi. She, in turn, was embarrassed by it. I could not get it out of my system, while it rankles me even to this day. Eilat at the time had one hotel and little else.

  While in Tel Aviv, I was invited as a guest to dinner at the ZOA House (Zionist Organization of America) and to listen to a symposium of non-Jewish masters of the Bible. The ZOA House was then a landmark for the cultural life of Tel Aviv as well as a focal point for American tourists. It was in constant use. After dinner, I joined a party of American visitors who were guided around the house by a very smart American woman who had settled in Israel. As we passed from room to room, she stopped before one door. We could not enter there because Moshe Sharett was just then lecturing there. She would, however, go in herself to enquire how long he might still be speaking. At this, I suggested she mention my name to Sharett, a suggestion which she clearly was not sure whether to take seriously. On emerging, she came straight towards me with a message from Moshe Sharett that I should wait for him. Immediately, all others in our party became curious about me and plied me with all manner of questions. Eventually, I met again with Sharett and spent considerable time with him.

  The Jewish Agency made special arrangements for myself and three other passengers to tour the country and placed a car at our disposal. Those who travelled with me were a middle-aged woman who had been secretary to the pre-War leader of German Zionists, Dr Kurt Blumenfeld; a young Belgian woman who was an official of the Keren Hayesod there; and a red-headed girl of nondescript personality but intriguing presence. On the tour, our driver was competent and relaxed and made our two-day tour very interesting and enjoyable. In those two days, we visited Kfar Hanasi, where Australian olim (settlers) were predominant, Tiberias, Safed, the Huleh Valley and Nazareth and returned via Haifa. The middle-aged woman was taciturn throughout, the Belgian girl was very talkative, while the red-headed girl remained mysteriously silent. It was only on the second day of the tour that the young Belgian woman confided in me the story of the girl in her charge. That red-headed girl was a Jewish child who had been given away by her parents to a Christian family. She had been raised as a Christian, but had since been told of her true origins. This had led her to an agonising mental and spiritual quest both for a personal identity and for a search for belonging. Her erstwhile guardian had brought her to Israel to see authentic Jewish life in its national setting at first hand, seeking thereby to help the girl sort herself out. I was very touched by the girl’s situation, suspended as she was between two worlds. When, on visiting the church in Nazareth, I saw her get down on her knees and become completely transfixed, I could not but reflect upon the tragic aftereffects of the war still shadowing the Jews, leaving some of them numbed, torn and almost mute in their struggle to find a way between institutionalised ritual and personal identity, belonging and belief.

  Safed, where we stayed overnight, was as picturesque as its kabbalistic image and reputation conveyed. We came across no old-time mystics there, however. Instead, we found a colony of artists living their own transcendental form of life in close quarters and practising their art, inspired by the same environmental forces that, centuries before, had been conducive to producing kabbalistic masters. In all, those two days of touring the country were most enjoyable, even if I did feel at times that the monetary cost incurred by the Jewish Agency could have been diverted to more constructive use. But in those days, such hospitality was perceived as correct.

  On August 9, 1960, I made the following entry in my diary:

  “My real enjoyment in Tel Aviv was the wonderful reunion with Moshe (Porat – Porozowski), Asher (Gorfain) and Pinek (Adler), all classmates, and their families. The spontaneity and cordiality of the reception within an hour of ringing Moshe was really overwhelming and heartwarming. Memories and names came up like a fountain, but admittedly I had forgotten a great deal. I was amazed how fresh it all was in their memories and they in turn couldn’t understand how I could have forgotten so much. I have already been to Moshe’s new home and to Asher’s and am inviting them out tomorrow to be my guests… It is the third night in succession that they are keeping me company.”

  The next day, I wrote:

  “My list of appointments today reads like a very busy businessman’s diary rather than that of a tourist. I was woken up at 7.30 by a call from Jerusalem about some shaliach (emissary) matter from Perth. At 7.45 Patkin rang that he wants to see me and we fixed 2.00 p.m. for a meeting. Mrs Brzoza, correspondent for the Australian Jewish News, came… she questioned me on my impressions and I discussed with her some of my views. She is going to write to the Jewish News. I didn’t realise how the two hours went and I had the next people coming to see me, namely the president and the secretary of the Association of Olim from Australia. I invited (Leo) Fink to stay on with me when we discussed the problems… The discussion was pretty successful and I hope that they will get going now. I’m glad that Fink was with me. He was obviously impressed with the discussion and suggested cooperation with the new enterprise regarding employment for Australian olim (settlers).”

  The enterprise referred to was a project developed by a group of Melbourne Jews to establish some venture in Israel that would link Australia and Israel economically. One suggestion – that of building a wool-tops plant in Israel to convert raw wool into a product, ready, in turn, for spinning yarn – caught the imagination of a number of people who, thereupon, formed themselves into a share-holding company to work towards that end. The idea itself and the spirit behind it were a reflection of the attitude of Jews around the world who felt that, they could make a lasting and constructive economic contribution to the country by setting up industrial enterprises within it. Among those enthusiasts was Leo Fink, a textile manufacturer in Melbourne. He had the technical knowledge about the machinery required as well as the business acumen to determine the viability of the projected enterprise. To bring the plan into realisation, Leo Fink and his wife, Mina, left Australia for a full year to live in Israel and work on the
project. With Israel as his base, where the government had allocated land for the proposed plant in the port city of Ashdod, Fink travelled to Europe, using his expertise to buy the requisite equipment from different machine-building firms, thereby putting together a first-rate plant ready to begin manufacturing. His task had been a difficult one on many counts. Dealing with government departments demanded much patience and shrewdness. Leo Fink possessed both in good measure, but he had found them taxed to the limits. He also had to tackle particular issues relating to foreign exchange as well as to negotiate with the spinning industry in Israel in order to secure a receptive market for the output of the newly-established firm. At the time, woollen tops were still brought in from overseas. On one such visit to a leading spinner in Tel Aviv, Leo Fink invited me to join him. I gained a personal insight then into the difficulties he faced, and it is only apt to record that, had it not been for his tenacity, persistence and dedication to the idea, the whole project would not have materialised.