Eli Hurvitz and the creation of Teva Pharmaceuticals: An Israeli Biography

by Yossi Goldstein

  As the secretary of the kibbutz, Eli tried to encourage and facilitate its development. He was one of a small number of young adults who stood out among the founding members and took responsibility for managing life at the kibbutz. Others were Uri Feldman from Haifa, Shmuel Yaakobi from Tel Aviv, and Zuba, or Professor Hirsch. In addition, Baruch Shifrin of Kibbutz Kineret, the oldest member of the group, was responsible for providing agricultural instruction to group members. Over time, however, Eli appears to have become more prominent than the rest. He was responsible not only for the kibbutz’s work schedule, like most secretaries, but also served as its treasurer, internal secretary, and chief purchaser. Despite the significant support directed its way, the kibbutz had its fair share of financial difficulties. Its harvests were insufficient and the field crops were often in danger of being wiped out. During the kibbutz’s first two winters (1950-1951), heavy snow and flooding caused extensive damage and ruined almost the entire harvest.

  As treasurer and chief purchaser, Eli would barter with the surrounding Jewish settlements and the Arab farmers in the Galilee. He exchanged food surpluses that accumulated on the kibbutz for agricultural tools and necessary daily provisions.

  “We received food rations from the army and we would trade some of the meat they contained with the Arab villages. In exchange, they would provide us with red onions and olive oil,” he recalled.

  As treasurer, Eli occasionally contended with complex credit problems. Although the major settlement authorities – the Jewish Agency and the Israeli government – provided Tel Katzir with substantial aid, it did not always arrive on time and was not always sufficient. As a result, he was forced to roll the kibbutz’s credit to purchase urgently needed supplies. As the kibbutz grew, Eli began to travel to Tiberias, Tel Aviv, and Haifa every week to execute his ever-growing responsibilities more efficiently. He dealt with the credit that was extended to Tel Katzir, purchased equipment and food, and sold the little that the young kibbutz had to offer. At the same time, he began to meet with state and public officials in order to maximize the support extended to the kibbutz.

  But there was also life at Tel Katzir which, as time passed, developed into a routine. The dining room operated during the day, attempting to provide members and their constant flow of guests with regular meals. Some of the apartments were now better suited for their purpose, though they had no semblance of order or tidiness and as many as three or four members shared each room. Eli lived with two other members in a room which, according to Dalia, was entirely “unfit to serve as living quarters.” His humorous account of having to nail shut the doors of his closet to prevent visitors, and relatives in particular, from peeking inside is just one of many stories illustrating the lifestyle of the kibbutz’s young residents.

  “We hope we will soon be able to shower using hot and cold water… at home,” one member told a reporter from the Yediot Aharonot newspaper who visited the settlement approximately one year after its establishment.

  One year later, in late 1952, they too enjoyed the technological wonder of a thin trickle of hot water flowing out of their showers. Until that point, showering had been a weekly ritual that invoked blood-curdling screams upon encountering the cold contents of the kibbutz faucets.

  Because the kibbutz was under constant threat of Syrian fire, the authorities classified it as a closed military area, making Eli and his fellow settlers exempt from performing IDF reserve duty. Instead, they underwent training at home. Eli was assigned to a mortar squad, a military role he filled for years to come. One of his commanders was his childhood friend Zvika Levanon, who became an officer during the War of Independence and commanded a reserve unit in the area. During a training course, Levanon promoted Eli to the rank of sergeant with the following order: “Private Hurvitz, stand up! Sergeant Hurvitz, stay where you are!” Eli was always proud of the fact that Zvika was the first to promote him in rank. According to Levanon, Eli was promoted for escorting military and non-military units into Syrian territory; for plowing fields that were under Syrian threat; and for the military training he had completed.

  In addition to working, military activity, and daily life on the kibbutz, the members of Tel Katzir also visited other kibbutzim in the area and the nearby town of Tiberias to attend plays, watch movies, and simply enjoy themselves. The Jewish Sabbath was typically observed in secular style, that is, by refraining from working. The Jewish holidays became major festivals, each with its own unique character. The young kibbutz’s rituals and culture grew richer with each holiday celebrated. The members formed a special cultural committee to plan the celebrations. On Passover, members convened a communal Seder hosting many visiting friends and relatives for the occasion. They read the traditional Hagadah, but inserted changes that reflected their secular, socialist and nationalist worldview. The festival of Shavuot was celebrated as the holiday of first fruits with a large gathering; over time, it became a secular day of prayer for a successful agricultural harvest. On some holidays, members preferred rituals they brought with them from home. On Yom Kippur, some of the members, including Eli, fasted, although they did not attend synagogue. Work halted on Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year, and an effort was made during Passover to serve matzah in the dining room alongside the chametz (leavened bread and other foods that are prohibited by Jewish religious law during the holiday) that remained their mainstay, despite the holiday.

  During its first few years, Tel Katzir developed into a settlement in the full sense of the word. It was still as dangerous as ever and life there was not easy, but it gradually began to function as a full-fledged kibbutz, providing its members with a great sense of satisfaction.

  Chapter 4

  Dalia

  The time that Eli spent at Tel Katzir shaped his life in many ways. He first met his wife Dalia there, when she visited the kibbutz with her Scouts movement settlement group. The group, which consisted of students from the Hebrew Gymnasium in Jerusalem, had come to Tel Katzir to learn firsthand what awaited them in agricultural settlement training and to reinforce their faith in the path they had chosen. Eli immediately caught Dalia’s eye.

  “I liked him,” she would recall later.

  But nothing more came of the visit and a few months passed before the two met again.

  Eli was an attractive young man, though somewhat shy when it came to women. He also had a girlfriend at the time – a young woman named Chaya whom he had been going out with since they both first arrived at Ramat David.

  Dalia and Eli first got to know one another sometime after Dalia’s visit to Tel Katzir, when Eli and his friend Yoske attempted to recruit members of Dalia’s settlement group to join Tel Katzir. Only seven of the kibbutz’s 35 members were women. This ratio was typical of settlement groups at the time and Eli and Yoske sought to remedy the imbalance in their group by travelling around the country trying to persuade members of the fairer sex to join their kibbutz. So they made their way to Jerusalem to visit Dalia. Yoske had once been Dalia’s counselor in the Scouts and for a brief time he had also been her boyfriend.

  Eli and Yoske went directly to Dalia’s house. Eli was oblivious to the effect he had on her at the time.

  “She didn’t tell me,” he insisted, “and the thought never crossed my mind.”

  He also failed to notice that their visit was preventing Dalia, who was still in high school, from studying for her matriculation exam in history, which was scheduled for the following day. Dalia’s mother entered the room and signaled to her that the time had come to bid farewell to her uninvited guests. Although she may have understood her mother’s concern, she was in no hurry to comply. After all, Dalia already knew history, but it was not every day that she had an opportunity to spend time with Eli. They stayed for a few hours and only after her mother “exploded,” according to Dalia’s description of the evening, did the enamored young woman do her mother’s bidding.

  Shortly after that evening, Eli an
d Yoske returned to Jerusalem, this time to the Allenby army camp where all the youth movement settlement groups were training together as part of the Nahal program. After the training program ended, they were supposed to begin settlement training.

  “Yoske and I spoke a bit,” recounted Eli years later. “We tried to convince the girls. ‘We have no girls at Tel Katzir,’ I told them. ‘And we need them. We have wonderful land – 4000 dunams [approximately 1000 acres] – like the kibbutzim of the Jordan Valley. But they each have between 300 and 1,000 members, whereas we have only 35… We will arrange a visit for all those interested.’”

  They only managed to convince two girls from the entire group. One was Dalia, who apparently was swayed simply by the presences of her future husband. By now, Eli had a clearer understanding of her feelings and realized that this was the beginning of a romantic relationship.

  When Dalia completed the training at the Allenby camp, they met again. Due to military bureaucracy, she could not move to Tel Katzir, but her request that the Nahal station her close to Eli had been met. She was sent to serve at the regional Nahal headquarters located at the old Kinneret Courtyard, near the village of Kinneret. Their romance continued to develop and Eli broke up with Chaya.

  Eli saw Dalia frequently and their romance became serious. Soon they were seeing each other almost every day. He would travel down to the village by tractor and she would go up to the kibbutz. Later, she and her friend Varda were accepted as members of Tel Katzir. Although Eli and Dalia’s relationship was public knowledge, they did not rush into living together. On principle, the kibbutz did not allocate rooms to unmarried couples. Dalia and Varda could have moved into the chaotic room inhabited by Eli and his friend Johnny, who was Varda’s boyfriend, but they categorically refused to do so in fear of the prospect of having to tidy up after the slovenly pair.

  In the meantime, Tel Katzir did not have enough work for all its members, so Dalia began working in the chicken coops at Kibbutz Degania Aleph as a hired hand. She set out on the long walk to the older kibbutz on a daily basis for now, but regarded it as temporary employment until she had a better sense of what her future would be at Tel Katzir. Her relationship with Eli was also a factor obviously. Slowly but surely, it became clear that their relationship would become permanent and they began to get to know one another’s families. Eli visited Dalia’s home in Jerusalem, where her grandmother and parents took an immediate liking to him. Dalia came to Tel Aviv to meet the Hurvitzes, who were also pleased with their son’s choice.

  Though they were not yet discussing issues beyond their immediate romantic relationship – such as marriage, for instance – the issue was nonetheless in the air. Their parents began visiting the kibbutz more and more frequently. The families, especially Dalia’s, were troubled by the economic difficulties the young couple was likely to face in the future.

  “How do you live like this? Just look at the bathrooms!” exclaimed Dalia’s grandmother, Rosa, with whom she had an especially close relationship and whose words still echo in her memory.

  The young couple did not share their families’ concerns. They regarded Tel Katzir as their home and they soon set their wedding date: June 21, 1953. According to the standards of the time, they were old enough to take such a step. Dalia had completed her military service and Eli was already a mature young man who had recently celebrated his twentieth birthday.

  •••

  Dalia Salomon was born in Jerusalem on October 20, 1933, to Nachman and Malka Salomon, who were the epitome of Jerusalem aristocracy. The patriarch of Dalia’s family was Shlomo (Solomon) Many, her grandmother’s father, who had served as the chief rabbi of the Jewish community in Hebron. Her family proudly traced its roots back to the Sephardic elite in the Land of Israel and was said to be descended from King David. The family modestly concealed its royal connection by adopting the name Many, an acronym for m’netzer ishay (Hebrew for “offspring of Jesse,” who was David’s father).

  Dalia’s father’s side of the family, the Salomons, was equally revered. Her great-grandfather’s grandfather was Avraham Shlomo Zalman Zoref (aka Harashaz), who settled in the Land of Israel in 1811. He was one of the leaders who revived Jerusalem’s Ashkenazi community in the early nineteenth century with the support of the Ottoman authorities. His grandson, Yoel Moshe Salomon, also played a key leadership role in the Jewish community, serving as a rabbi, rabbinical emissary, editor and journalist at a Hebrew newspaper, and printer. However, Yoel Moshe Salomon was best known as one of the first people to establish a Jewish quarter outside the walls of the Old City of Jerusalem, a founder of Nahalat Shiva, and a founders of Petah Tikva, the first Jewish agricultural settlement (moshava) established in the Land of Israel in the modern era (1879). Dalia’s grandfather Haim was his sixth son and one of the most influential public figures in Jerusalem, a status that seemed to run in the family. Haim served on the Jerusalem City Council, filling the roles of head of the Jewish community council and deputy mayor. In 1901, Haim opened a wholesale pharmaceutical business in Jerusalem, gradually expanding it, along with two partners, into the company that later became Assia and today is Teva. Haim’s eldest son, Nachman, was born in 1903 and followed in his footsteps. In addition to his work at the pharmacy and a variety of other businesses, Nachman also was a respected leader in the Jewish community. For example, during Israel’s War of Independence, he was responsible for supplies in the besieged city of Jerusalem.

  Nachman and his wife Malka raised their two daughters, Dalia and Ruth, in a large apartment on Abarbanel Street in Jerusalem’s wealthy Rehavia neighborhood. Despite their spacious accommodations, Dalia shared a room with Ruth, who was three years her junior, and her maternal grandmother Rosa, who had become a widow at the tender age of 26. Rosa never remarried and lived with her daughter Malka when she married. Dalia and Ruth developed extraordinary relationships both with their parents and grandmother. Over the years, their grandmother, who was the youngest child of the former chief rabbi of Hebron, emerged as a tremendously significant figure in their lives.

  The family led a secular lifestyle. Nachman had moved away from religion after graduating from the Tachkemoni religious school, while Malka was secular through and through. Like their mother, both daughters attended the Rehavia Gymnasium high school, which was located close to their home and was considered to be the best secular high school in Jerusalem. Dalia was bright, social, energetic, and a good student. However, she also had a mischievous side.

  As a child and a teenager, Dalia had a rich social life which, like that of Eli, revolved largely around the Scouts. Her local troop went by the name Masada and met in a shed in the gymnasium’s schoolyard. That was where she spent her time, played with her friends, and developed her worldview. She began as a young member, became a counselor, and ultimately served as the troop leader. By this time, she had one goal: to join a settlement group and participate in settlement training. From this perspective, Dalia and Eli were a match made in heaven: for both, the Scouts was not only a second home, but the place where their values and worldviews were formed.

  •••

  Eli and Dalia were now kibbutzniks and it went without saying that their wedding would be at Kibbutz Tel Katzir, which they regarded as their home. At first, the date was set for Tuesday, June 23, 1953. Then Eli learned that his close friend Zvika Levanon was planning his wedding for the same day. As neither they nor their mutual friends wanted to miss either wedding, Eli and Dalia moved their wedding date forward to Sunday June 21.

  To plan the wedding, Eli and Dalia contended with an endless stream of intricate arrangements, including the complex logistics of bringing their families and friends from around the country to Tel Katzir. Matters were further complicated by their decision to have a wedding ceremony that combined elements of typical kibbutz weddings and of traditional Jewish weddings. As a result, just like at two of the weddings previously held at Tel Katzir, Eli and Dalia had to bring in
a different rabbi than the one who typically officiated at kibbutz events. As far as they were concerned, there was only one rabbi who could do the job: the rabbi of Kinneret, who understood the sentiments of the kibbutzniks and presided over most of the weddings in the Jordan Valley.

  After the invitations had been sent out, Eli and Dalia turned their attention to the question of gifts. Because they had planned a honeymoon abroad, the couple asked their relatives simply to give them money. Eli later recounted how one guest “gave me an unimaginable sum – 50 or 60 dollars…What more could a young couple ask for?”

  At the same time, Eli and Dalia began planning the wedding itself. First, the center of the kibbutz was selected as the venue for the celebration. Then, a stage was constructed and decorated for the ceremony and the dancing that would follow and chairs were collected from all over the kibbutz. Most of the food was provided as a gift by the kibbutzim in the area and Dalia supervised its preparation.

  The masses of guests and invitees – which, according to Eli’s calculations, numbered 800 – poured into Tel Katzir, many from distant parts of the country, to witness a wedding ceremony that would be ingrained in the memory of many as singularly unique. It began with a normal workday for Eli and Dalia, she in the kibbutz chicken coops and he plowing his furrows. Later in the day, the two descended to the village of Kinneret wearing work clothes to receive the blessing of the rabbi and to undertake the reading of the traditional Jewish wedding contract (ketubah).

  “In the center of a kibbutz,” Eli explained, “in the presence of the socialist members of the Federation of Labor, you cannot read a ketubah containing elements of financial subjugation.”

  They then parted momentarily, as Eli joined his friends for an all-male pre-wedding ritual that was popular at the time, conducted beside a specially prepared “grave of the unknown bachelor.” There, they sang songs that were particularly crude, after which Eli declared, in the presence of the men of the kibbutz, that he was “giving up bachelor life willingly.” His friends’ humorous warnings that he would regret his actions did not sway Eli to change his mind.