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Authors: Cynthia Freeman

BOOK: No Time for Tears
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It was good for Chavala that she would never know how Moishe felt as he sealed the letter she’d just read, then moving clumsily off the bed, maneuvered himself into his wheelchair and rolled himself down the hall.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

S
PRING, 1916. A PLAGUE
of locusts. An opportunity for the Yishuv, but especially for the scientist—and secret Zionist—Aaron Aaronson. He traveled to the south to teach the Arab farm-owners and peasants how to combat the plague. And he appointed one of his top associates, Dovid Landau, as supervisor of the Galilee.

The plague under control, Jamal Pasha, in his style, decided that the time was right to execute the elimination of the Yishuv. All nonresident Ottoman subjects, all Jews, were to depart Jaffa and settlements in its vicinity. The order to evacuate Jaffa and Tel Aviv remained in force even though the considerations of strategy that had prompted it had lapsed with the defeat of the British near Gaza.

The evacuation of the Jews of Jaffa was merely the prelude to a new wave of persecution.

Each day was beset with a new crisis. A blockade now surrounded the Mediterranean, stopping the Atlantic crossing of relief funds, gold and foodstuffs. Now they had to be sent by the American Zionist organization, JNF and other Zionist bodies in the form of bank drafts by way of Switzerland.

But the Turkish authorities confiscated all the gold they could lay their hands on. In the absence of gold the market was flooded with Turkish paper money, which was circulated in such quantities that its worth became only a fifth of its normal value. The financial situation grew so threatening that the Yishuv was on the edge of ruin.

The activists took over. Not enough to protect their settlements from Arab marauders and Bedouin murderers. Now they formed a political action committee. Buy arms and train young boys too young for army duty. The “Jaffa Group” began storing weapons in secret places and the training of youths was done out of sight of the Turkish eye on the kibbutzim.

The Turks sensed the climate of insurrection. Yishuv members were taken into custody and viciously interrogated. Among those arrested were Dovid and Absalom. Absalom, still in a kind of mourning for the failure of his marriage with Rivka, but also, to be frank, relieved that she’d gone off to America, took the challenge as a welcome focus for his energies and passions. Dovid, though also a man of scientific talent, as he’d proved in his association with Aaron Aaronson in his work reviving the land and helping keep it free of the terrible locusts whose wake was famine and disease, had never given up or backed off from his determination that the Jews should have their homeland, that danger … and even death were concomitants of his dream—and that a dream was measurable after a while by how close it came to reality. He had personally smuggled weapons and kept them on the kibbutz. He had even been shot once and had to be secretly cared for and at the same time tried to calm Chavala and her fears at his actions and what they would mean to her and the family, to their little son Reuven and to Chia … “My God, Dovid, our family has already drifted away. One is no longer a Jew. Moishe has been wounded and we pray will fully recover from
his
service as a soldier. I know how much you have worked and risked for what you believe in. I respect it, even though I have other dreams, as you know. But, Dovid, you owe us, yourself, me, something too. Please …”

Dovid had understood Chavala’s fears, but he was also driven by needs that went beyond them. When he and Absalom were arrested, driven like criminals by the gun muzzles of the pasha’s soldiers, they had no idea whether they would survive for a minute or an hour. If they would soon be hanging from the end of a rope. Their worries weren’t empty or melodramatic ones. It was Aaron’s intercession with the pasha that kept them from the end of the rope, if not from the ugly indignities his soldiers in their sniggering fashion visited on them. At one point Dovid had ignored the threat of gun and rope, and swung around and smashed the face of the guard who had been obscenely taunting him. He was hardly surprised to receive the butt of a gun in his stomach, knocking him to the floor, followed by a knee to the groin—the guards were long experienced in the methods of inflicting punishment which didn’t show on the outside, could kill a man on the inside. Absalom, in an adjoining cell, was about to call out, but realized that could only make it worse for Dovid and himself, and accomplish nothing.

When Aaron went to Beirut to see the governor of the territory he was reasonably confident that bribery would at least insure that his friends would be decently fed and not abused. But as he handed over the gold coins to the governor he realized by the smug look on his face that this was only the beginning of the extortion. There was nothing for it but to go directly to Jamal Pasha.

In the pasha’s office Aaron came quickly to the issue. “You know that my men at Athlit have proved their loyalty to this government. I want this harassment to stop. Their contribution is too valuable to the war to have them spending their lives in jail.”

“Not all of your people, Aaronson, but I grant you that you and others have proved of value. I had no idea, I assure you, that your people were being jailed”—which wasn’t entirely the case—“and I give you my word the matter will be taken care of….”

It was at about this time that Dovid was waking up with a terrible knot in his stomach from the blow he’d taken. His surprise, and Absalom’s, at the sudden appearance of the guards not to string them up but actually, amidst muttered curses and threats, to escort them out of the prison and to a hotel in Jaffa was beyond belief. At first they wondered if they were being taunted into believing that somehow they were saved and then the string would be pulled and the rope would replace it. The sadism of the Turks was not beyond such behavior. Only when rood was
served
them did they decide even the Turks would not go to such lengths for abusive sport, and that their rescue, this time at least, was real.

“You know,” Absalom said as he lay back on his bed, which was next to Dovid’s, “Aaron either is a man of great importance to the pasha or has gone over to the enemy, and I guess I better quickly say that I believe it’s the former that has gotten us out of this.”

“Yes,” Dovid said, “and we need to take advantage of it, not just be grateful we’re not dead. Believe me, only because he thinks he needs us does the pasha hold off from having us hanged. We can’t go on forever trusting to that, even with Aaron’s influence. What if the locusts don’t come? It seems we need a disaster to make us worth keeping alive…”

“I agree, let’s destroy them once and for all—”

“What’s your plan?”


Open rebellion.
No more using the cover of the British army—”

“No … that would be suicide, and we Jews have done enough of that. That just about got you and me hanged. And for what… ? A few boxes of ammunition … I’m tired of lost causes … let’s win for a change …”

“Fine, what do you suggest?” Absalom said, lowering his voice.

“Espionage,” and now Dovid’s voice dropped to a near-whisper.

“Espionage? And you say open revolt would be suicide …”

“Absalom … we can supply vital information to the British, information they don’t have and could never get. They’d listen—”

“I don’t agree. The only thing they’d listen to is a Jewish fighting force inside Palestine.”

“Maybe, but I still say that would be suicide for us. I want to see the Turks with
their
throats cut, not
ours.
We both want the same thing, Absalom, it’s just a question of how best to get it.”

The tensions were broken between the two men when Aaron walked into the hotel room. Their greetings were brief, and it wasn’t until they’d arrived back at Aaron’s house in Zichron that they spoke to him.

Both men smoldered with their own ideas that had taken form in the hotel room back in Jaffa.

Without preamble, Absalom said, “The only way that we can speed up the liberation of Palestine is through rebellion …”

Aaron was shocked at the suggestion. He hardly had any love for the Turks, but the notion of insurrection seemed empty and wrong to him … “No, Absalom, the British have the arms to liberate Palestine—”

“It’s our national
duty
to organize on our own behalf.”

“I suppose I’m more a scientist than a political activist. But you know my sympathies, and my usefulness. Open rebellion didn’t get you and Dovid out of the hangman’s noose.”

Absalom’s eyes flamed with anger. “You’re a scientist, Dovid is a believer in helping the British, who treated us like mules. I say to hell with both of you. Let me know when you think we’ve had enough punishment,” and without further word he went out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

Aaron and Dovid sat in awkward silence, both knowing that Absalom’s anger, while sincere, was also usually shortlived.

Aaron said, “You must have had something to say to one another in that hotel room. I have a feeling, Dovid, that you’d like to tell me what’s on your mind.”

“You’re right, and I’m not going to be diplomatic. Now, you may be a scientist who doesn’t want to get involved … and you’ve said I’ve some ability in that direction too … but whether you like it or not, you’re involved in this as much as Absalom or myself. Because of the position you hold within the Turkish government, you’re the key that’s going to open up doors for us, Aaron. Now, Absalom’s angry for good reason, and so am I. We differ only on means. We don’t want to wait for the British, on their own, to liberate us. What Absalom wants is revolt and I disagree with that. What I think would be the best way for us would be to use our advantage
and
the British … gather information to speed up the British effort against our enemies. I don’t for a minute think the British are our friends … they use us and we tell ourselves our purposes are served. Well, if that’s so, let’s help them to use us even more—to get what
we
want. Let
us
control our destiny, by some manipulating of the British, for a change…”

Aaron shook his head. “Both of you seem to have got our salvation pretty well worked out for us. Well, I still refuse to become involved in either one of your plans. Now, if you don’t mind me saying so, I think it’s time for you to go back home to Chavala.”

When Chavala saw Dovid come through the front door, the profound anxiety she’d felt in the last days was hardly lessened by what she saw in his face. Her heart went out to him. Quietly she went to him and put her arms around him, “My darling Dovid, it must have been terrible … thank God you’re home.”

“Yes, thank God, and Aaron.”

There was something in the tone of Dovid’s voice that contradicted his words. He didn’t sound grateful. What she caught in his voice was anger at both God and Aaron … well, tonight she would not question him. Quietly she said, “Dovid, come, let me get you something to eat.” The second greatest offering a woman could make, she thought wryly.

At this moment it wasn’t food he needed to offset his frustration. “No, Chavala, I’m really not hungry …”

“Then let me fix you a hot tub.”

“That sounds very good. Thank you.”

After the bath Dovid lay down, Chavala alongside him. But as she clung to him she still felt the tensions hadn’t subsided. “Dovid, I know the strain you’ve been under, the things you went through in jail, but I also know there’s something more … what is it … ?”

“It’s nothing … or maybe it’s everything. I don’t know, Chavala, I guess what I’m trying to say is, maybe I would have felt better if I’d joined the British in the fighting. Like Moishe did—”

“Oh, Dovid, darling, everyone fights in his own way. You were wounded, for God’s sake … and look what Aaron has been able to accomplish …”

The muscles in Dovid’s jaw tightened. “He has pointed that out. But the fact is, while the Turks are destroying the whole Yishuv, we’re safe here at Zichron.”

“Dovid, you’re all doing the best you can. The problems are huge … you can’t expect Aaron to be the Messiah. I’m sure he’s doing what he feels is right—”

“I’m sure.”

Chavala clung close to her husband and knew that this was no time to argue with her husband.

Well, she was still a woman. She knew how to make
that
contribution. And she did…

The next week Dovid made the rounds of the settlements. The complaints were no different than the ones he’d heard ever since the war began. The Turks were requisitioning their wheat and animals, and what the Turks didn’t take the Arabs stole.

He journeyed north. The Jewish soldiers in the labor battalion were clearing the roads in the unrelenting heat of the noonday sun. Their lips were parched white from too little water. Because the work was going slowly, many wore cruel lash marks on their backs. Their faces bore the scars of brutality too. Those who dropped from exhaustion were chained to a tree and beaten.

Dovid had seen these atrocities before and hated himself for not being able to stop them. This day, though, his anger was greater than ever before … In Tiberius the city was teeming with Turkish soldiers who were abusing old men on their way to prayer. They taunted them by pulling at their earlocks and the fringes on their
tallisim
, which they wore under their black long coats. One old man who protested was thrown to the ground, kicked and left in the dust, hurt and bleeding.

Dovid had to fight himself not to get both of them killed by going after the Turkish soldier. He literally willed himself to leave the scene, and rushed back to Zichron, where he went straightaway to see Aaron.

Still full of anger, he repeated the atrocities he’d seen. He told Aaron that if nothing was done the dissident groups would take it on themselves to take direct action, and that would put the whole Yishuv in more danger than it already was.

Aaron knew the logic of that He hated that Jews should become involved in espionage but at least it was better than Absalom’s suicidal notions of open revolt … “All right, call your meeting.” He paused and took a deep breath. “But you, Dovid, are going to have to assume the key position.”

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