Anita Shapira

Yigal Allon, Native Son


Скачать книгу

of the Yishuv’s isolation in Palestine and Jewish isolation around the world.

      Most of the KMC convention was devoted to a report from members of He-Halutz, Poland’s Zionist pioneering organization that educated its members along the lines of the KM. The group had fled from the area of German conquest early on in the war and built up a fair pioneering movement in Lithuania. After some time, the Soviets allowed some of the pioneers “stuck” in Vilna to leave for Palestine and they finally arrived in the country after an adventuresome journey. The newcomers reported on the efforts to guard Jewish national identity against the assimilation onslaught by the Communist regime, on the strivings of pioneers to reach Palestine, and on manifestations of anti-Semitism in the land of the Soviets.74

      For Allon, the deliberations were an eye-opener, a whole other world: “Those people showed me many new things about He-Halutz [members] that I didn’t know,” he later reported to the Ginossar assembly, adding somewhat patronizingly, “their fluent Hebrew is especially remarkable.”75 He learned “that of all the countries from which Eretz Israel absorbed pioneers, Poland took the most important place,”76 an admission indicating just how unfettered he was by knowledge of the KM’s social roots. Jewish experience beyond the boundaries of the Yishuv filtered down to him for the first time. True, he had been confronted with the question of immigrant Jews earlier: in March 1940 Ginossar had discussed absorbing a German youth group that was at Kibbutz Afikim, and he had defended the equality between immigrant and local youth against contrary opinions.77 But his stance on that occasion can be explained by his relationship with Ruth, herself a German Jew. At the KMC, the native son had to reflect on problems completely beyond his ken, from the trials of the Jewish people to ideological questions, such as the attitude toward the Soviet Union.

      Though a stranger to the KM crucible, his impressions touched the heart of the matter: “At these deliberations I saw the element of mutual help between people who had reached safe shores and comrades living in the Diaspora. How sincere and caring the concern for them, as if it were one big family.” And he added: “I was especially moved by the promptness to discuss getting people out [of Europe] despite the perils.”78 He witnessed an inner solidarity diametrically opposed to Mes’ha’s individualism; a sense of collective togetherness, a devotion to this same large family that takes responsibility for its members but also imposes duties and obligations; and, finally, the dynamism of the KM as well as its eruptive self-sacrifice and all embracing sense of responsibility—all of this Allon felt instinctively in the council atmosphere, in the memorials that so impressed him, in the words of He-Halutz representatives.

      His intuitive grasp of the essence of the KM, absorbed from the atmosphere and his immersion in that specific social, human experience, found expression in his public address on the KMC’s closing evening. He declared that Ginossar wished to join unreservedly, unquestioning of the movement’s ways or leadership. The kibbutz audience must have found this joyful conformism heartwarming: they already had enough rebels of their own, they needed no more.

      In describing Ginossar’s settling on the land, Allon underscored aspects that could be expected to fall on eager ears. First, he emphasized the “redemption of the land” from Arab hands, reiterating this component and perhaps exaggerating its importance. With the exception of the incident of the “water war,” Ginossar had not seized any land tilled or claimed by Arabs. It had always been careful to take over land that was indisputably owned by Jews. The land-grab from the PICA and bringing the PICA to resign itself to the act were presented as a daring maneuver by young people on a mission to redeem national land, which, strangely enough, encountered resistance from the landowners.79 Second, the difficulties with the PICA, with the Agricultural Center, with the British authorities—Allon portrayed all of these as a character reference of excellence, making Ginossar fit for the KM.80 When, in summing up, Allon said, “We bring with us the deed, the deed of the KM: the building of a [settlement] point unassisted,”81 he displayed true understanding of the body to which he was seeking admittance.82

      Ginossar’s acceptance to the KM was unanimous. The handsome, curly-haired Allon achieved fame and glory that night. Though his address suffered from stylistic shortcomings and might have benefited from a little “refugee” Hebrew, his articulation and grasp exceeded all expectations, especially as he had not been bred on youth movement traditions. David Zakai of the Second Aliyah, a member of Mapai and one of Davar’s veteran journalists, was so impressed that he mentioned the speech in his column of “Briefs” (21 January 41). He described a “fairly tall and bright-eyed youth … speaking with understated warmth and able humor of the internal and external hardships that found his group of friends … and how they resolved not to abandon ‘their Ginossar.’ …” It was Allon’s debut in the daily press.

      Allons’ account to the Ginossar assembly of the KMC proceedings and of the commitment undertaken by Ginossar upon joining the KM movement contained a measure of zealousness and a demand for utter loyalty. It was the passion of the newly converted who had just seen the light.

      It was his first political commitment as an adult, freely made. His need to show loyalty to the movement that had taken him in was to remain a lifelong habit. Loyalty to the kibbutz was not merely political, but total, of the kind one reserves for tribe and family. In such cases, disagreement or disobedience or a decision to leave takes on added meaning beyond narrow politics, and is judged in value terms as deviation or betrayal. The atmosphere of the KM held sway on many people, its leadership consciously cultivating it. On Allon it had a powerful effect, especially as he had come to the kibbutz without prior bonds. The lad who sold his father’s farm at Mes’ha and severed his childhood roots now found a new family ready to adopt him. It spawned in him a sense of commitment from which he would never break loose.

      Several weeks after these events, Berl Katznelson invited Allon to take part in a month-long seminar he was giving in Rehovot. The wide-ranging symposium was to touch on history and Jewish philosophy, Hebrew literature, socialism, world politics, the history of Zionism, and the history of the Yishuv’s Labor movement. Participation was by personal invitation to people chosen by Katznelson as he saw fit and was based on his impression of their talents, openness, and leadership qualities. The KM frowned on Katznelson’s custom of circumventing its secretariat and approaching young members directly. The kibbutz lived by group decisions. It soon put pressure on the selected candidates to turn down the invitation, and quite a few did.83

      Allon very much wanted to attend. The kibbutz assembly was asked to approve the absence of two members from Ginossar for the period of a month. Regarding one member, David Borochov, there was no problem. This was not so in the case for Allon: Allon was the secretary of the kibbutz and the farm’s functioning might suffer from his absence. Two key members were enlisted to support his participation: Absalom Zoref, who had just returned from the hospital, and Sini Azaryahu. Zoref explained the significance of Allon’s attendance: “He was among the last to be exposed to the movement’s basics and it is important that he take part in the course.”84 Sini stressed the added value to the kevutzah’s cultural life. Those arguing against Allon’s attendance made sure to note that though they were not envious, the good of the farm came first.85 The vote split, with thirteen in favor and fifteen against.

      The vote notwithstanding, Allon did attend. For Allon, the seminar seems to have been his first exposure to any systematic, humanist education. Lecturers such as the Kabbalah scholar Gershom Scholem; the historian Ben Zion Dinaburg (Dinur), a future minister of education; the writer Haim Hazaz; and the intellectual Zalman Rubashov (Shazar), a future state president, unfurled before him a universe of which he had been ignorant, cultural riches whose lack he had been unaware of. In addition, the lectures by prominent figures from the Histadrut and Zionist movements—Ben-Gurion, Golda Meir, the KM leader Yitzhak Tabenkin, the Haganah head Eliahu Golomb, and so forth—had a great impact on him: horizons broadened, the world picture changed, the dimensions of reality expanded immeasurably. The seminar was dominated by Katznelson’s personality, Socratic charm, the founts of his knowledge, the idealism that oozed from his every pore, the inspiration that he was to his following. It is little wonder that the boy from Mes’ha, who only a few years back had still admired his village teachers, fell under a spell that had captivated