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"Palestine As I Saw It" By Hyman S.
Wolf
-1946-
April 18, 1946—Hyman S. Wolf,
"Palestine As I Saw It," Southwestern Jewish Press, pages
9, 13, 16,: Hyman S. Wolf, resident of San Diego for many years,
visited Palestine in 1936. Mr. Wolf has been an editor of Jewish periodicals and
in the past a correspondent of the Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Arrival
I arrived in Palestine, July 19, 1936. Instead of the ship
discharging its passengers in Jaffa which adjoins Tel Aviv, my destination, and
what my ticket called for, I landed in Haifa, one-half day by train from Tel
Aviv. On inquiring why I was not taken to Jaffa, I was told that the Arabs do
not permit ships to land at "their" harbor. And to my question are
there no police in Jaffa, I received an evasive reply. My sister and her
family and other relatives told me that they could not come to meet me at the
port as they would be endangering their lives. Consequently they had a good deal
of worry until they saw me safely in their homes. The train from Tel Aviv to
Haifa was dynamited on the day previous to my arrival, and several miles of
track torn up by the Arabs. That was my introduction to Eretz Yisrael, the
refuge of the homeless Jews, who come to look for a haven in their homeland. On
the next day I had to cancel a trip planned with other Americans to Jerusalem.
The Arabs were shooting at buses, automobiles and trucks, and throwing bombs
from ambush at the train. In spite of all this the Jewish transportation
company, Eged, kept the lines open to carry mail, food, medicine, and
some passengers. They took the risk so that the necessities of life could be
delivered to the colonists between Tel Aviv and Jerusalem. A convoy of
British soldiers would accompany the stages. At night service was suspended,
although the British army used to patrol the roads. Every day the morning
papers would bring news of new murders in different parts of the country, and
the killings of the driver of a bus, or a truck, disabling the vehicle and
leaving the rest of the occupants to the mercy of the bandits. These
killers used to take the shoes clothing and other valuables off the bodies and
leave the mutilated corpses on the road. These murders happened so often
that the police permitted funerals only during early morning hours or during the
night. You can picture for yourself what pressure the leaders and rabbis were
under in appealing to Jews to restrain from retaliating and avenging the
innocent blood of their brothers, sisters or friends spilled by the Arabs. The
atmosphere was tense. Our youth, who were ready and begging for permission to
find the murderers and bring them before the seat of Justice had to be appealed
to their better senses, that we as Jews shall not kill, that we are not a people
who live by the sword, and that we must have patience.
Jaffa
Many times it seemed that their patience was strained to the breaking point, as
when the two sisters of mercy, Mogen David Adom (Red Shield of
David), Red Cross sisters were murdered at the entrance of Jaffa Hospital ( A
government hospital where the patients were Arabs.) Although forewarned of the
danger of going to the hospital, they pointed to their snow white uniforms with
the Red Shield of David, that this is their protection, but those human beasts
had no respect for these unprotected young girls, who unafraid crossed the line
from Tel Aviv to Jaffa only to find death waiting for them. They murdered
in broad daylight and the killers escaped and were never brought to
justice. It took extraordinary power to hold in check the thousands that
followed the funeral, and the tens of thousands that lined the sidewalks for
miles. Kadish was said. Thousands wept and buried the dead. Other Jewish nurses
took their place, as the patients had to be attended to, and the Red Cross, or
as it is called in Palestine, Mogen David Adom, fulfilled its
mission. I wanted to see for myself what was going on in the streets, and
hear what was talked about in those dark days. Walking through a street called
Meho Sheorim (Hundred Gates) which leads to Jaffa, I passed through a barb wire
barricade in the middle of the street. Suddenly I heard a voice calling tome, Ivri
Shomo Jaffa, Sacana! Jew, this is Jaffa. You are endangering your
life." Looking around I saw an armed English police officer. Seeing
that I was an American he permitted me to sit down near him and we talked. His
rifle was of a very old manufacture, a 1918, while the Arabs have the latest
German repeating rifles. I left him with a heavy heart and a lot to think about.
I was told not to go into Jaffa alone. A police escort was given me by the
British officer on duty. The streets of Jaffa were deserted, the doors of
business houses closed, the iron shutters on windows were down, others were
boarded up.
Tel Aviv
I settled in Tel Aviv. It is 100 percent Jewish, and is called the dream
city. It is impossible for me to describe the beauty of Tel Aviv. It is
not a city that just grew or happened. It is a city planned, laid out and built
as a modern city. All the buildings are of steel and concrete, three stories
high, no bigger. They have all the modern improvements, hot and cold water, the
very latest sanitary plumbing, etc. Jews are serving in all capacities,
the mayor, the policemen, the postmaster, the street cleaner, the garbage
collector, the truck driver, the truck mechanic, all Jews and Ivrith is
the main language spoken on the street, in the business houses, post office or
police station and courts. So much for the general every day life in
Palestine.
Prisoners
Now, with your permission, I want to tell you something about another life
in Palestine—if you can call it life. It is the life of the living death which
is very little discussed or told to the outside world—the life of prisoners.
In Palestine, there are two kinds of "criminals," the criminal who
committed a crime against his fellow men, and the political
"criminal." A "political prisoner," you don't have to do
anything. And it is very easy to become one. For instance, if I had overstayed
my visa, I would have been arrested, kept for six months or longer in prison,
and then brought to trial, sentenced for six months or a year and then deported
if I got out of prison alive and was able to travel. Or, if I was arrested at
the border trying to get into the Jewish homeland without proper
credentials, or enough money or if I was arrested and charged by a policeman as
a "dangerous agitator---, or in his opinion I may be dangerous to walk
around the streets and it would be better to lock me up, I would have been sent
to the Palestinian prison in Akko. Akko is a beautiful city, surrounded by
orange groves and high palms on the shore of the friendly Mediterranean It is
settled by Arabs. The Jews left it years ago. The only Jewish factory left there
is the Nur, which manufactures matches. The owner, a Lithuanian Jew,
employs even today 100 percent Arab labor. Akko is famous for its mineral water.
All kinds of legends and traditions are told of Akko, which was once a trading
place of the Romans, famous for its glass manufacture from clear white sand on
its shores. Akko also is the place where Napoleon stopped after his conquest of
Jaffa and turned back. It was also an important fortification during the World
War. Its famous fortress was used as a prison by the Turks long ag. The
tourist visiting this little dreamy village seeing the Arabs sitting in the
cafes, playing dominos, smoking their Najillas, talking to each other, not
paying any attention to the rest of the world asks the guide, "Is there
anything to see in Akko." The water is the purest, clearest water in
Palestine. The cliamte healthy and refreshing. "You have seen all,"
says the guide, and the tourist departs satisfied, envying the people that live
in Akko. But the "guide" did not show or tell all about
Akko. He did not tell that hundreds of human beings are living there a
living death. He did not tell of the inhuman treatment to hundreds of men. He
did not tell of the many suicides committed by young prisoners while
there. The imposing building, the old 200-year-old fortress, is called by
some jocularly "The Sanitarium." It is a massive shapeless
building and stretches out along the coast for many dunams. You can hear no
sound outside its walls. It is a very deathly silence. Gruesome tales are told
of the treatment of its prisoners. The local papers do not dare to tell what is
happening behind those walls for fear of a heavy fine and suspension of the
paper, and maybe jail to the editors and reporters, if they print anything of
the occurrences behind those gloomy walls. The British government keeps this
prison. It has made no change or improvements. It is exactly the same as it was
under the Turks' regime during the last two hundred years. Akko could beat every
record of cruel inhuman treatment of its prisoners. Criminal and political
prisoners are kept there for years awaiting trial, and then serve their
sentence, which might be six months or a lifetime. After a bitter fight by the
political prisoners, they were given more "favorable" treatment tan
the criminal prisoners. Until lately no distinction was made. It still is
an unimaginable Hell, and far beyond human endurance or dignity. It is the
shame of the British government. The ancient Turkish inhuman laws still prevail.
And in this 20th century the British government does not see fit to change the
old medieval treatment of human beings, and say if this treatment was good
enough for Turkish prisoners two centuries ago, they ought to be good enough for
Jewish prisoners today. Last November or December the British police
thought that a group of former and present revisionists may become
"dangerous." They arrested young men on their way to work, a doctor in
his office, an engineer, several writers, and sent them to Akko without a trial.
On reaching the prison, thirty men were packed into a cell 24x30. It was
hot and unbearable. Complains and applications to change quarters were made. A
strike followed. They were severely beaten. Finally the prison authorities
in Haifa gave orders to transfer these "criminals" to a larger cell,
with free access to the roof, and the small yard. The first words spoken by
them, after the battle was won, when friends came to see them, were "We
feel like kings." They have no beds, nor blankets. They are not
allowed to shave as razors are forbidden. There no sanitary conditions and
the stench is unimaginable. This is their bill of fare: a native prisoner
requires 18 mils for food per day (about 9 cents) and is not entitled to
bread. He must eat Pitta. flour and water mixed. The prison food is
let by contract, usually to an Arab contractor who is the lowest bidder. The
foreigner however gets better treatment than the native. He is allowed 38 mils
(about 19 cents) per day, an he is also entitled to European bread instead of
the tasteless pitta. A native is not only one that is born in Palestine,
but all that are Palestinian citizens irrespective of origin. The food is
really the same that is given to the native as to the foreigner. The only
difference is the bread instead of pitta, which is given irregularly. The
20 mils is clear profit to the Arab contractor. This is the food that the
prisoners get daily: Morning: one small loaf bread, small bowl of cooked
rice. Evening: Small loaf bread and handful of green olives. The
unfortunates who are many growing young men between the ages of 16 to 20, say it
is no to little to starve you, nor enough to keep you alive, and the quality
that the contractor furnishes is left to your imagination. When these growing
young men leave the prison they are crippled for life, as this diet stunts their
growth and ulcerated stomachs and dysentery prevails among these
"convicts." Non political prisoners must work six hours a day,
building roads, breaking rocks, mix(ing) concrete and carrying rocks, which is
the hardest work. If a prisoner fails to move a rock, he is kicked. If he fails
to carry a rock more than his own weight he is kicked. If he drops the rock in
the wrong place he is beaten. And if he complains, he is beaten until he stops
complaining. As in all prisons elsewhere there are inspections from time to
time, and like everywhere else, the prisoners are afraid to complain as they
would get more and harder beatings when the inspectors part. Not all policemen,
British or Arabs, are cruel or bloodthirsty. There are some who are helpful to
the prisoners. Another medieval punishment is the "Sensane," a
tiny cell without a window where a man can only corouch, and can neither lie or
stand. This form of punishment is administered freely from 24 to 48 hours.
Overview
In spite of this gloomy picture that I have just painted for you, new
colonies are being started, and the almost half million Jews of Palestine are
happy and contented, especially the younger generation, working in the fields,
raising vegetables and chickens, running their own dairies and producing the
finest cream and butter, and in following their various lines of endeavor and
opportunities in work, in education and in play. There are nearly 400
synagogues, many banks, 10 moving picture theatres, modern department stores,
schools of all kinds including colleges and many private schools. They have an
aviation club with expert flyers flying their own planes. They are building now
a fine large theatre, Habima.