A Natural History of the Jew
(A Cut Story)
It was a hot afternoon in 1908 on a stretch of sand dunes outside the Arab city of Jaffa, the moderate size hilly mounds, were a short way away and you could see dust swirling on their tops, a meeting of men and women decided to established an all-Jewish city on this site, and the mass of people made one big shadow, and in the distance stood one man, his hands in his pockets—there was no roads or cars passing, nor houses, just people baking in the sun—this city was to be called Tel Aviv. Here, forty-years from that date, the state of Israel was proclaimed; one side to the dunes, the other side, and a seaside promenade in Tel Aviv. It would in time—without the world grasping their unique spiritual and moral character and historic mission, make the desert bloom. And this would make the Arabs envious; and such countries as Syria, Iran, Iraq, even Jordon, and Lebanon, jealous of this new land of wanderers once in exile, now neighboring influences that might dilute the desert, with their religious and moral concepts and social customs—never would they speak openly of the extraordinary beauty that caught their eyes, as the desert bloomed in the following decades (the wine of the Middle East)—this country that was in the past, exposed to the dual pressures from Egypt and Babylon.
It has always seemed to me that the war on the Jews has been omitted as a field for observations of the unrighteous, we have polite and sound accounts of their struggles—perhaps impossible to understand the history of the Jewish character and historic mission, their ability to maintain their integrity in each and every era and every place they’ve migrated, these stubborn and in all areas be it, economic, physical, political, and military, if not spiritual, moral and ideological spheres: still surviving today. The Babylonian stories of Gilgamesh (an example) the epic, by that persevering Hebrew scholar Saul Tchernikovsky. And from that time forward, the Jew, his course fainting in the vast wilderness of a Babylonian Empire, naked and alone, perhaps even considering his days numbered, everything taken away, nothing appearing to remain for him to do his mission, but lie down and die, perchance their defense of this giant conqueror, was more than meets the eye, it was especially cultural and spiritual.
I cannot contemplate the delicate conformation of it roots, it leaves the mind captivated with admiration. Even five hundred years ago, Bar Kochba’s defeat the Land of Israel, swamped by the Arabs, with the doctrine of Mohammed. Islam spread across the tribes of the Arabian Peninsula, and even against such odds the Jews: they stood against this and survived, as the Moslem tide tried to wipe them out. At one time or another it would, or must have appeared to the Jew: from Palestine, to Russian, across Europe, and on the streets of America, the great flood that threatened the national veracity and spiritual independence of the Jewish people, as a people—could they not have said: God, that Being who planted us, watered us, brought us to perfection, to this obscure part of the world, a land that appeared so small and unimportant, that involved so much suffering, and here he formed us after his own image, disregard hunger and fatigue, having us travel forward, surely he was not now disappointed, surely now he has forgiven us of our past sins, those of our forefathers, handed down from century to century, they must now be forgiven. Surely reflections like these would not allow them to despair long enough to say, “We are not the Chosen…!” And thus, they were not disappointed, and with a disposition to wonder and adore in a like manner, their God, now and forevermore, and in 1908, on a stretch of sand dunes outside the Arab city of Jaffa, a meeting of men and women took place, and they decided they’d establish an all-Jewish city, and this city was to be called Tel Aviv, and then in 1967, Jerusalem, the city of God was found under their wing, and then in 1972, they would be victorious again.
To not conform, I will now take the reader, on a trip to recover some lost ground, positions, except for the presence of the dead, not that all the dead are buried. And they came in 1939, the unauthorized immigrants, stealing ashore, an illegal transport, evading the British vigilance, these European refugees brought by the Sussana, in 1947, also they came. The ordeal of the Exodus in 1947 is also an enduring legend of Jewish suffering. The jam-packed ship, intercepted by the British, forced to sail to Haifa. The individual blown tight enough to burst, and as time went on so did the ever increasing number of Jews coming to The Promised Land, to an unbelievable extent and faces filled many tents, and surely one was not surprised at the amount of paper that is scattered about the dead, their ultimate position left, before any burials all lay their faces down in the sand, all in the heat and among the flies, bodies scattered like paper, the smell of the battlefield everywhere, the smell of death goes back for the Jews a long, long ways. Then in calm, they are buried. One wonders what a passing traveler would have seen on those bleak battlefields during those days. World War Two had ended for the world at large, but not for the Jew.
On May 15, 1948, Israel proclaimed its Statehood, this brought on a full scale invasion by the Arabs, and riots, by the UN’s Partition Resolution in 1947. Dr. Weizmann and Emir Feisal, and Ben-Zvi, all Zionist leaders, and Soldiers of the Hagana, armed boys and girls of the Irgun Zvai Leumi, all played a roll between 1918, and 1948 (thirty-years) of bringing in this new drown dawn, choking along the way from the smoke and gun fire and smell of death. And in 1949, a year later, young Israelis everywhere danced the hora, and the Israel flag was raised at the United Nations and in 1951, they had their first military parade, the third anniversary.
And from there came: Prime Minister Ben-Gurion, friends with President Dwight D. Eisenhower. And Weizmann, friends with Harry S. Truman, and Foreign Minister Golda Meir, friends with President John F. Kennedy, and Prime Minister Levi Eshkol, and President Johnson, and the glorious and renowned General and Prime Minister, Ariel Sharon. And the Diamond Exchange in Ramat Gau, started by immigrants from Amsterdam. And oil drill on the Dead Sea, Fishermen at Eilat, and the Kfar Hayorek Agricultural School, and the Ethiopian Jew came home, and the Russian Jews. With the torah and guns, consequently, the wars were fought on and on, and now the country had a vividly heterogeneous population (7.5-million today, of which two-thirds are Jewish).
What is it, perhaps nothing what I say here, in this short but natural history of the Jews, even though the designation may be cut, means nothing to the published world, yet surely it is unfair to the dead, who were not dead when they fought the good battle to create a great nation, who owed nothing to anybody but God, and God alone; surely many who had never even read a word of Hebrew, who had come thousands of miles, or given thousands of dollars to fight the good fight, in the winter of Israel’s new birth. This is where those writers are mistaken who write books about the Jews, of them dying in a trench, or behind hidden Walls of the Nazis’ because they had little to die for; they had something to die for, and still do, it is called—let me quote David Ben- Gurion: “For our…preservation of the legacy of our Prophets to the end of time, Israel must strive incessantly…to be a unique people.” It’s who they are.
(No: 610) Written: 4-29-2010 ••
(A Cut Story)
It was a hot afternoon in 1908 on a stretch of sand dunes outside the Arab city of Jaffa, the moderate size hilly mounds, were a short way away and you could see dust swirling on their tops, a meeting of men and women decided to established an all-Jewish city on this site, and the mass of people made one big shadow, and in the distance stood one man, his hands in his pockets—there was no roads or cars passing, nor houses, just people baking in the sun—this city was to be called Tel Aviv. Here, forty-years from that date, the state of Israel was proclaimed; one side to the dunes, the other side, and a seaside promenade in Tel Aviv. It would in time—without the world grasping their unique spiritual and moral character and historic mission, make the desert bloom. And this would make the Arabs envious; and such countries as Syria, Iran, Iraq, even Jordon, and Lebanon, jealous of this new land of wanderers once in exile, now neighboring influences that might dilute the desert, with their religious and moral concepts and social customs—never would they speak openly of the extraordinary beauty that caught their eyes, as the desert bloomed in the following decades (the wine of the Middle East)—this country that was in the past, exposed to the dual pressures from Egypt and Babylon.
It has always seemed to me that the war on the Jews has been omitted as a field for observations of the unrighteous, we have polite and sound accounts of their struggles—perhaps impossible to understand the history of the Jewish character and historic mission, their ability to maintain their integrity in each and every era and every place they’ve migrated, these stubborn and in all areas be it, economic, physical, political, and military, if not spiritual, moral and ideological spheres: still surviving today. The Babylonian stories of Gilgamesh (an example) the epic, by that persevering Hebrew scholar Saul Tchernikovsky. And from that time forward, the Jew, his course fainting in the vast wilderness of a Babylonian Empire, naked and alone, perhaps even considering his days numbered, everything taken away, nothing appearing to remain for him to do his mission, but lie down and die, perchance their defense of this giant conqueror, was more than meets the eye, it was especially cultural and spiritual.
I cannot contemplate the delicate conformation of it roots, it leaves the mind captivated with admiration. Even five hundred years ago, Bar Kochba’s defeat the Land of Israel, swamped by the Arabs, with the doctrine of Mohammed. Islam spread across the tribes of the Arabian Peninsula, and even against such odds the Jews: they stood against this and survived, as the Moslem tide tried to wipe them out. At one time or another it would, or must have appeared to the Jew: from Palestine, to Russian, across Europe, and on the streets of America, the great flood that threatened the national veracity and spiritual independence of the Jewish people, as a people—could they not have said: God, that Being who planted us, watered us, brought us to perfection, to this obscure part of the world, a land that appeared so small and unimportant, that involved so much suffering, and here he formed us after his own image, disregard hunger and fatigue, having us travel forward, surely he was not now disappointed, surely now he has forgiven us of our past sins, those of our forefathers, handed down from century to century, they must now be forgiven. Surely reflections like these would not allow them to despair long enough to say, “We are not the Chosen…!” And thus, they were not disappointed, and with a disposition to wonder and adore in a like manner, their God, now and forevermore, and in 1908, on a stretch of sand dunes outside the Arab city of Jaffa, a meeting of men and women took place, and they decided they’d establish an all-Jewish city, and this city was to be called Tel Aviv, and then in 1967, Jerusalem, the city of God was found under their wing, and then in 1972, they would be victorious again.
To not conform, I will now take the reader, on a trip to recover some lost ground, positions, except for the presence of the dead, not that all the dead are buried. And they came in 1939, the unauthorized immigrants, stealing ashore, an illegal transport, evading the British vigilance, these European refugees brought by the Sussana, in 1947, also they came. The ordeal of the Exodus in 1947 is also an enduring legend of Jewish suffering. The jam-packed ship, intercepted by the British, forced to sail to Haifa. The individual blown tight enough to burst, and as time went on so did the ever increasing number of Jews coming to The Promised Land, to an unbelievable extent and faces filled many tents, and surely one was not surprised at the amount of paper that is scattered about the dead, their ultimate position left, before any burials all lay their faces down in the sand, all in the heat and among the flies, bodies scattered like paper, the smell of the battlefield everywhere, the smell of death goes back for the Jews a long, long ways. Then in calm, they are buried. One wonders what a passing traveler would have seen on those bleak battlefields during those days. World War Two had ended for the world at large, but not for the Jew.
On May 15, 1948, Israel proclaimed its Statehood, this brought on a full scale invasion by the Arabs, and riots, by the UN’s Partition Resolution in 1947. Dr. Weizmann and Emir Feisal, and Ben-Zvi, all Zionist leaders, and Soldiers of the Hagana, armed boys and girls of the Irgun Zvai Leumi, all played a roll between 1918, and 1948 (thirty-years) of bringing in this new drown dawn, choking along the way from the smoke and gun fire and smell of death. And in 1949, a year later, young Israelis everywhere danced the hora, and the Israel flag was raised at the United Nations and in 1951, they had their first military parade, the third anniversary.
And from there came: Prime Minister Ben-Gurion, friends with President Dwight D. Eisenhower. And Weizmann, friends with Harry S. Truman, and Foreign Minister Golda Meir, friends with President John F. Kennedy, and Prime Minister Levi Eshkol, and President Johnson, and the glorious and renowned General and Prime Minister, Ariel Sharon. And the Diamond Exchange in Ramat Gau, started by immigrants from Amsterdam. And oil drill on the Dead Sea, Fishermen at Eilat, and the Kfar Hayorek Agricultural School, and the Ethiopian Jew came home, and the Russian Jews. With the torah and guns, consequently, the wars were fought on and on, and now the country had a vividly heterogeneous population (7.5-million today, of which two-thirds are Jewish).
What is it, perhaps nothing what I say here, in this short but natural history of the Jews, even though the designation may be cut, means nothing to the published world, yet surely it is unfair to the dead, who were not dead when they fought the good battle to create a great nation, who owed nothing to anybody but God, and God alone; surely many who had never even read a word of Hebrew, who had come thousands of miles, or given thousands of dollars to fight the good fight, in the winter of Israel’s new birth. This is where those writers are mistaken who write books about the Jews, of them dying in a trench, or behind hidden Walls of the Nazis’ because they had little to die for; they had something to die for, and still do, it is called—let me quote David Ben- Gurion: “For our…preservation of the legacy of our Prophets to the end of time, Israel must strive incessantly…to be a unique people.” It’s who they are.
(No: 610) Written: 4-29-2010 ••
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