Eliezer Ben Yehuda Writes from Prison

"My heart tells me,  my hope is strong, that the judges themselves will realize that this is just a false plot made up by those who hate me,  and will set me free"

Just before Hanukah, 1893, Shlomo Naftali Hertz Jonas published an article in the newspaper “HaTzvi” titled “Commandments Require Intent” in which, in the spirit of the burgeoning Zionist idea, he called for the celebration of Hanukah as a holiday of Jewish strength. Jonas, Eliezer Ben Yehuda’s father-in-law, closed the article with the words: “gather strength to move forward” (לאסוף חיל ללכת קדימה). Ben Yehuda’s detractors from the Ultra-Orthodox community used this sentence as an excuse to inform on him to the Turkish authorities. The Ultra-Orthodox translated the word חיל  (strength) as “army” and the phrase ללכת קדימה (to move forward) as “to conquer the east”.  Thus, this innocent remark was interpreted as a plot to revolt against the Turks. This was the climax of the feud between the “Old Yishuv” in Jerusalem and Eliezer Ben Yehuda, the driving spirit behind the revival of the Hebrew language. Eliezer Ben Yehuda, the editor of the “Hatzvi”, was arrested as a traitor to the crown and was sentenced to a year in prison.

Portrait of Eliezer Ben Yehuda, Moscow, circa 1885​​

 

Portair of Hemda Ben Yehuda, Mogilev, Russia, 1904

When he was informed he was going to be sent to prison, Eliezer Ben Yehuda wrote a letter to his son, Itamar.

Exactly 120 years later, while organizing an archive that was received by the National Library, the original letter was discovered:

“Ben Zion, my son, they summoned me to court next Wednesday, apparently regarding the article about the police. Maybe we should confer together about what to do, or maybe it is better, in any case, that you should not be there during the judgment? I am confused. I didn’t know what to do. Your Father”.

.

Eliezer Ben Yehuda’s letter to his son Itamar

 

Ben Yehuda’s letter to his son set his release in motion. He was released during the Hanukah holiday.

During his incarceration, which lasted about two weeks, Eliezer Ben Yehuda wrote a letter to his second wife, Hemda. This letter is also preserved at the National Library:

“My Hemda, my wife, life of my soul and spirit, tomorrow is judgment day. My heart tells me,  my hope is strong, that the judges themselves will realize that this is just a false plot made up by those who hate me,  and will set me free. I feel like this is my last night in prison, and that by this time tomorrow we will be together in our house.  How I will hug you, my dear girl, how I will kiss you my sweet wife! How pleasant is the prison to me this night, how dear is my prison cell, as I hope to be together with you tomorrow! However, my wife, my dear Hemda, no man can know what tomorrow might bring. The smallest incident could bring about some confusion, some slight delay, and that will be enough to return me to my cell for a few days. We must always anticipate the worst, and be ready to accept the bad bravely, as is fitting for people like ourselves; as is fitting for a woman like you. Therefore, my dear Hemda, with all our hope they we will see each other tomorrow at our house, we should be prepared and ready for the bad. Let our hearts not fall, we will strengthen ourselves with the knowledge that it is due to our regard and labor for our people and for the good of progress that those who hate us blamed us and told falsehoods about us. This knowledge will be sufficient for us to carry and suffer everything with brave hearts and spirits. Therefore, my precious wife, be strong and of a good courage, and know that in your serenity I will also find serenity and in knowing that you will overcome this trouble that has come upon us and that you are healthy, I will also find strength to suffer so that afterwards we will be able to be together and return to our great work for the good of progress like we did before. I will hug you, my lovely girl, and I will kiss you”.

 

Eliezer Ben Yehuda’s letter to his wife Hemda

16 years after his release, on 18.12.1908, Eliezer Ben Yehuda wrote in “HaTzvi” about the Hanukah holiday:

“Hanukah, the holiday of the Hasmoneans. For the first time in 16 years I utter these words without fear and trembling… lo, the sun of freedom is shining on us in all its glory! Hurrah!… to you, Freedom! Everything is yours! For only in you man is man! You, You my Goddess, our heroes, whose names I feared to mention for over 15 years, have served. In Your name they fought, and in Your name they performed acts of bravery that astounded all the nations of the world, in Your name they were victorious and in Your name they expelled the foreigners from the land, and shook off the yoke of the strangers from the neck of their fellows, and in Your name they gave us this sweet holiday so that I can now call without fear and terror: Hanukah, Hanukah, Hanukah!”

The Opposition to the First “Jerusalem Reunification Day”

The objections surrounding the creation of “Jerusalem Day” as a national Israeli holiday

.

On the way to the Western Wall, 1967, the Bitmuna Collections

“Jerusalem Day,” or “Jerusalem Reunification Day,” is an officially recognized national holiday in Israel which enjoys broad acceptance in the country today. But, it has not always been so. In the year following the reunification of Jerusalem in the Six-Day War, the Prime Minister of Israel and the mayor of Jerusalem openly objected to the creation of the holiday. It was only after the public itself made its opinion clear in favor of a new national holiday that the municipal and governmental institutions followed suit.

Following Israel’s War of Independence in 1948, Jerusalem was a divided city. For 19 years, West Jerusalem belonged to Israel, while East Jerusalem was held by Jordan. It was only in 1967, or more precisely, on the third day of the Six-Day War, that the soldiers of the IDF Paratroopers Brigade, commanded by Col. Motta Gur (a future Chief of Staff), broke through the Jordanian defenses and took the Old City and East Jerusalem. The reunification of Jerusalem was completed with Motta Gur’s now famous declaration “The Temple Mount is in our hands!”

Mordechai "Motta" Gur was the IDF officer who declared "The Temple Mount is in our hands!". Pictured here as a Brigadier General during Jerusalem Day celebrations in 1969. Photo by Jacob Elbaz, the Dan Hadani Collection at the National Library
Mordechai “Motta” Gur was the IDF officer who declared “The Temple Mount is in our hands!” Pictured here as a Brigadier General during Jerusalem Day celebrations in 1969. Photo by Jacob Elbaz, the Dan Hadani Collection at the National Library

Following the war, a desire emerged to establish a special day dedicated to the unified city of Jerusalem, the capital of the State of Israel. The first initiative came from the Chief Rabbinate on the first anniversary of the city’s reunification. The heads of the Rabbinate sought to establish the 28th day of the Hebrew month of Iyar as a day of thanksgiving for the miracles that resulted in the city’s unification under Israeli control.

The Jerusalem Municipality followed up on the rabbinical initiative, announcing its celebrations to mark the new Jerusalem Day holiday, but the Israeli government immediately attempted to have the decision cancelled, refusing to offer any funding for the ceremonies being planned.

Even the mayor of Jerusalem, Teddy Kollek, requested that his own municipal authorities cancel their plans for fear that the festivities would offend the Arab population of East Jerusalem. Prime Minister Levi Eshkol was also reluctant to hold the ceremony in its intended format. The Office of the Prime Minister released a statement that Eshkol would decline the “honorary citizenship” that the Jerusalem Municipality intended to award him at the ceremony.

Jerusalem's legendary mayor Teddy Kollek was originally against the new holiday, but later came around. Here he is seen during the 1975 ceremonies. Photo by Paula Rubin, the Dan Hadani Collection at the National Library
The mayor of Jerusalem Teddy Kollek was originally against the new holiday, but later came around. Here he is seen (on the right) during the 1980 ceremonies. Photo by Paula Rubin, the Dan Hadani Collection at the National Library

 

Despite the reluctance shown by Levi Eshkol and Teddy Kollek, the municipal authorities decided to move forward with the ceremony.

A great sense of national joy served as the driving force behind the festivities, which were, in the end, held as planned, including the awarding of an honorary citizenship to the Prime Minister. Jerusalem was illuminated and decorated with an exuberance that rivalled that of the famously uninhibited Independence Day celebrations.

Israeli Prime Minister Levi Eshkol with his wife Miriam, 1968. Photo by Dan Hadani, the Dan Hadani Collection at the National Library
Israeli Prime Minister Levi Eshkol with his wife Miriam, 1968. Photo by Dan Hadani, the Dan Hadani Collection at the National Library

However, unlike Independence Day, the first Jerusalem Day celebration took on a more spontaneous character. Aside from the municipality, one of the only official bodies involved in the preparations was the Chief Rabbinate, which organized a mass prayer at the Western Wall.

Thousands gather at the western wall during Jerusalem Day celebrations in 1969. Photo by Jacob ELbaz, the Dan Hadani Collection at the National Library
Thousands gather at the Western Wall during Jerusalem Day celebrations in 1969. Photo by Jacob Elbaz, the Dan Hadani Collection at the National Library

Various delegations converged on the capital city, including groups of students from Bar-Ilan University and Haifa’s Technion institute, who tried in vain to sweep up the local students of the Hebrew University in their excitement. A wide variety of grassroots events were held throughout the city: marches, public assemblies, school activities, as well as “ordinary” excited crowds who came streaming into the capital. There were also a number of memorial events for fallen soldiers.

The headline reads: “100 Thousand Flocked to the Western Wall”

It was only a full four months later that the Israeli government finally agreed to declare the 28th of Iyar as “Jerusalem Day”, with the Knesset, the Israeli parliament, adding its approval even later still.

Today, Jerusalem Day is a national holiday. It is marked by celebrations in cities throughout Israel, in schools, in the media, and in Jerusalem itself. Few are aware of the resistance that preceded the first celebration of the holiday, and that its marking should not be taken for granted.

 

Jerusalem Pre-1967: A Look at Maps from Both Sides of the Border

In honor of Jerusalem Day, the Eran Laor Cartographic Collection invites us to take a look at the maps that defined the city prior to its reunification.

.

Old and new Jerusalem. Map published by Steimatzky in 1955

For nineteen years, the city of Jerusalem was divided between Israel and Jordan. In this period, maps of the city looked starkly different, from what we know today. A glance at tourist maps, commercial maps, and even newspaper maps published on both sides of the border reveals the extent of these differences.

 

Tourist map of Jordanian Jerusalem, 1961. Click to enlarge
Tourist map of Jordanian Jerusalem, 1961. Click to enlarge
Click to view map on the National Library website

“Deadzone” – What lies beyond the border?

Within every map, there is always some kind of abstraction or filtering of certain details, in accordance with the information that the mapmaker wished (or was required) to convey to the target audience. This holds especially true for tourism maps which, by their nature, are selective in content and not necessarily committed to exact detail or scale.

This is how the boundaries of a mapping area are determined. Any area that is not relevant to the map’s intention is usually described, if at all, in simple and concise terminology. We can see this play out in the maps of divided Jerusalem. In most of these maps, there is no indication as to what lies beyond the border. There is only a “deadzone” designated by a single uniform color, omitting any details of roads or structures. In some cases, sparse annotations contain details such as armistice lines, demilitarized zones, transit gates, and no-man’s land.

 

Jordanian tourist map of the Old City of Jerusalem, 1960. Click to enlarge
Jordanian tourist map of the Old City of Jerusalem, 1960. Click to enlarge
Click to view map on the National Library website

 

Israeli map, 1958, completing the picture of the previous map. Click to enlarge
Israeli map, 1958, completing the picture of the previous map. Click to enlarge
Click to view map on the National Library website

It is interesting to see where the Israeli and Jordanian maps contradict each other, as well as where the maps agree. Each of them presents a different side of the city, with the divide running between them.

A fascinating example of this is a Jordanian tourist map dating back to 1964. In it we can see how the technical elements of the cartography, such as the use of colors, help to express a geopolitical reality. The “occupied territory of Jerusalem” is marked on the periphery of the map in red, no-man’s land in grey, and the demilitarized zone on Mt. Scopus in purple.

 

Jerusalem, Jordan- The Holy Land. Click to enlarge
Jerusalem, Jordan- The Holy Land. Click to enlarge
Click to view map on the National Library website

Recalculating Direction

With fifty years of hindsight at our backs, examining these maps can create a sense of illusion and disorientation.

An Israeli tourist map of West Jerusalem from the late 1950s oriented the map with east at the top, instead of a standard north orientation.

On the other hand, in a Jordanian tourist map from the late 1960s, the Holy Land seems to have borders and aspects that radically contradict the Israeli definition.

 

Jerusalem from north to south. Tel Aviv, 1957. Click to enlarge
Jerusalem from north to south. Tel Aviv, 1957. Click to enlarge
Click to view map on the National Library website
Jerusalem as a part of Jordan. Jordanian map. 1964. Click to enlarge
Jerusalem as a part of Jordan. Jordanian map. 1964. Click to enlarge

Click to view map on the National Library website

In other maps, both sides of the city are presented in detail, with the boundary line highlighted in the middle. These maps were designed to present tourists with a full picture of the city, but adapted to the new political realities created following the cease-fire in November, 1948.

A pictorial map of Jerusalem, issued by Steimatzky in 1955, was printed with the dividing line crossing Jerusalem. This was not a new map of Jerusalem, but a re-publication of a map that was first published about a decade earlier.

Old and New Jerusalem. Steimatski, 1955. Click to enlarge
Old and New Jerusalem. Steimatski, 1955. Click to enlarge

Click to view map on the National Library website

A Jordanian tourist map that was published in Jerusalem in 1952 also shows the entire city of Jerusalem, with the borderline crossing it. It features demilitarized zones marked as “UN-controlled territories,” as well as “Jewish-controlled territory,” and “No-Man’s Land,” respectively.

 

Jerusalem in your palm, 1952. Click to enlarge
Jerusalem in your palm, 1952. Click to enlarge
Click to view map on the National Library website

Lastly, a special map was printed for Jeruslamite Ma’ariv readers in honor of the second memorial day marking the battles for the city on May 14th, 1950. The map was found on the back page, showing the city, its holy sites, main roads, and the borderline.

 

The map insert found in the Jerusalem issue of Ma’ariv on May 14, 1950. Click to enlarge
The map insert found in the Jerusalem issue of Ma’ariv on May 14, 1950. Click to enlarge
Click to view map on the National Library website

 

Find more fascinating  historical maps by visiting the the Eran Laor Cartographic Collection website.

 

If you liked this article, try these:

Special: 150 Years at the Western Wall

A Diary from Jerusalem Under Siege

The First American Consul Happened to Have Jerusalem Syndrome

A Diary from Jerusalem Under Siege

“I’m very thirsty and there isn’t a drop of water in the house. I must go down to the street, perhaps I'll find something to drink, and thus I must cease my writing.” A peek into the siege diary of Menachem Zvi Kadari, a resident of the Old City during Israel's War of Independence.

.

Menachem Zvi Kedari's diary, the National Library of Israel

Today the residents learned that the Jerusalem front suffered a new heavy blow: the Old City has fallen … the defenders surrendered after half a year of resistance and heroic defense, when few stood against many, without weapons and equipment in the face of a well-equipped enemy. It is indeed interesting that the fall of the Old City didn’t make as much of a sad impression on the city as the previous difficult blows (Gush Etzion, Sheikh Jarrah, etc.), as if there was even a certain sense of relief: finally, it’s over, the women and children were spared, most of the defenders also remained alive, even if they will spend some time in captivity; Thank God, for that too—such are the thoughts, more or less, of a simple Jerusalemite.

With these words, Menachem Zvi Kadari describes one of the most difficult and desperate moments in the battle for Jerusalem during the Independence War. The 23-year-old, Hungarian-born Kadari, a student of Bible Studies and Hebrew at the Hebrew University, kept a diary detailing the sequence of events throughout the period of the siege of the Old City. In clear and beautiful handwriting, on the back of small index cards, accompanied by delicate illustrations, he provides a vivid and authentic account of public opinion among the people of the besieged Old City, and from the cards, colorful and fascinating Jerusalem characters spring to life. Here are some of them:

 

At the corner of HaRav Kook Street I suddenly see the old Yemenite man sitting by the wall and reading from the holy Zohar with amazing diligence; everything remains the same with him, he sat and read here before the siege and continued in times of danger, through the heaviest bombardment, and continues to sit here even now.

The boys in the student dormitory on Jaffa Street had a private laundress, a Kurdish woman who always came to collect the laundry and two days later, she would return it clean and neat. […] Every time she heard about young people who died, her heart seemed to sink. She has no children of her own, but all of Jerusalem’s youth are hers and she feels pain and sorrow over the loss of each of them […]  When we asked her “When will you bring our clean laundry,” she answered, looking up with her eyes: “Can one say today when I will come? God knows when I will be able to come.” […] The last time, a few days before the cease-fire, she took the laundry, but did not bring it back again … a wicked shell hit her … her husband brought our clean whites, which her own hands were not favored to bring back [to us] … Many have been your casualties Jerusalem; all have fallen in the fulfillment of their duties, who in defense, who at work … May they atone for our sins!

(Entry from June 15th, 1948)

 

On August 8th, during the second break in the fighting, Kadari sees:

Four young men with beards and sidelocks, dressed in caftans and beaver hats, walking in front of me along the street—they were Neturei Karta Hasidim—and behold the wonder, a truly strange and unusual sight: they are holding rifles in their hands! […] Can this really be true? Parading about the streets of the city of Jerusalem are young men in hasidic garb carrying guns and other weapons of destruction! Who could have prayed that something like this would ever happen? 

 

But beyond the characters, Kadari best describes Jerusalem shifting between despair and hope. He tells of the eyes turned to the great powers, the ambivalence of the Jerusalem street towards the offers of the U.N. mediator Count Folke Bernadotte, the reactions of the Arab countries, the rationing of food, and the tense hours of waiting – for bread and sustenance, but even more so – for news and information about what was going on in the rest of the country. Thus, for example he describes his own dismal situation, while reporting on the announcement from Tel Aviv:

This Sabbath was especially eventful, a historic day in Jewish history: the State of Israel was declared and immediately recognized by America and 38 other countries. Yet, there are two sides to every coin: the armies of the Arab countries began their invasion from all directions and there are already bitter consequences: they have conquered several settlement points […] the battle in Gush Etzion is completely over. The entire area has been captured and the fighters taken captive. Oh! Ten years of hard work have come to nothing! Three settlements of the religious Kibbutz movement , to which the eyes of the youth in the Diaspora were drawn, were wiped off the map […] Oh, what has befallen us!  (“I’m very thirsty and there isn’t a drop of water in the house. I must go down to the street, perhaps I’ll find something to drink, and thus I must cease my writing.”).

(Entry from May 16th, 1948)

 

Entry from Kadari’s diary
Entry from Kadari’s diary

The siege of the Old City lasted until the 11th of June, during which there was a terrible shortage of food (“the bread ration was reduced to one hundred and fifty grams and in a few days will be reduced to one hundred grams per person; oh well, this is real hunger, but one can suffer a bit more!” [June 6]. Following the end of fighting in Jerusalem, the situation improved significantly, (“In exchange for work they pay forty grush along with breakfast and dinner every day. By this arrangement, after just two days I have already been able to loosen my belt buckle and I can’t complain about hunger” [June 25th]).

 

It is not only existential distress that emerges from the pages of Kadari’s diary, but also his personal thoughts about his future and studies, which were interrupted by the war. He attends political meetings and cultural conferences, keeps himself busy with matters of language (“This afternoon I decided to go home, despite the danger of bombardment—they have already invented a new word for the concept: hafgaza [shelling]; indeed, this is the Jerusalem spirit!”). And once in a while he visits the Jerusalem homes of his teachers Gershom Scholem, Moshe Zvi Segal and others. One of the topics woven throughout the journal is the growing gap between Tel Aviv, the city where the declaration of the State had just been celebrated, and Jerusalem, which is under siege:

It truly seems from the papers that there is still life in Tel Aviv, despite everything. Only today was the public prohibited from going to the beach; the theaters and cinemas are running as usual […] only in Jerusalem we sit for months on the watch, on the frontline. The first to be tested is the city of Jerusalem. Perhaps it will be the first to be redeemed? 

(Entry from June 9th, 1948)

The institutions of the young state and the IDF (which until the day before was the “Haganah”), are concentrated in Tel Aviv, while Jerusalem is still sympathetic to members of the underground. With the outbreak of the fighting, Kadari, the native of Tel Avivi, was “stuck” in Jerusalem, and throughout the diary, he describes attempts to return home. His description of one of the most famous affairs of the period—the firing on the Irgun ship Altalena as it approached the shores of the coastal city, is mixed with a dose of racism:

There is explosive news on the internal political front: the Irgun, which declared its joining the ranks of the Haganah and full obedience to the Jewish government  institutions, brought an arms ship for itself and began unloading it, with the clear intent of violating the truce […] war is these people’s life, war for the sake of war. Internal danger awaits the Yishuv, heaven forbid, from these ne’er do wells, and careless adventurers. […] No wonder that most of the members of the Irgun and Lehi come from the Sephardic communities, and if so, it is clear from whence the fanaticism and blind enthusiasm for their actions, good or bad.

(Entry from June 23rd, 1948)

Kadari’s diary ends with his departure for Tel Aviv on August 18th. After the fighting ended, he renewed his studies at the university. Kadari submitted his doctoral dissertation in 1953 and later was appointed a lecturer at Bar Ilan University. In 1971 he became rector of the university and a member of the Academy of the Hebrew Language. In 1999, he was awarded the Israel Prize for Study of the Hebrew Language.

 

“The opinion of a simple Jerusalemite”

 

Menachem Zvi Kadari died in 2011. His personal archive was recently deposited in the National Library and includes, besides this diary, fascinating documents about underground rescue activities in which he took part in Hungary and Romania after the Nazi invasion, in addition to drafts of his research papers and lectures, as well as personal documents and correspondence.

Kadari’s full diary is held in the archives of the National Library of Israel.

 

If you liked this article, try these:

The Mother Who Stayed Behind to Defend Her Home During Israel’s War of Independence

The First American Consul Happened to Have Jerusalem Syndrome

The Kabbalistic Ceremony that Helped to Identify the Fallen Soldiers