Judea Magazine, No. 1.4
Hebron Etzion
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JUDEA ELECTRONIC MAGAZINE Vol.1, No.4 Tamuz-Av 5753/Jul-Aug 1993
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Contents:
- In Memoriam: Mordechai Lipkin
- Shades of Meaning
- Zionism Lives in Judea
- A Zionist Response to Murder
- Rabin and Peres Found Tekoa
- The First Confrontation
- The Power of an Idea
- Seven Days of Mourning
- Beginning the Fight for Hill 809
- The Broken Dream
- Ilana
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* IN MEMORIAM -- *
* *
* Mordechai Lipkin, 39, father of four, artist, teacher, and *
* former prisoner of conscience, was shot and killed by Arab *
* terrorists on Thursday night, July 8, 1993, while driving home *
* on the road from Efrat to Tekoa in the Etzion Bloc in Judea. *
* *
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SHADES OF MEANING
Steve Rodan
The children's bicycles are still parked outside the prefabricated
structure that Mordechai Lipkin called home. At the front entrance is
a half-finished stone sculpture he was working on. Stuck on the
refrigerator is a note left by his wife Ilana detailing the things he
was to do while she was away in Moscow.
Off to the side is the room that was his favorite, his art room,
full of paintings that represent the life of a man who mixed art with
a deep faith, and tried to impart both to Israelis and Russian
immigrants.
Few realized how influential the 39-year-old father of four was
until his funeral. The crowd included hundreds of Russian Jewish
immigrants who were touched by Lipkin either in Moscow or during his
four years in this country.
It is only in Lipkin's room that a visitor gets a sense of his
fusion of art and Judaism. His early works were either topical, such
as clay figures wearing gas masks, or had simple Jewish themes --
candle-lighting, a synagogue, rabbis, a series of Stars of David. His
friends say the art represented his early studies in Judaism. Lipkin
was a Jewish activist in Moscow -- an unlikely activity for the son of
a leading Soviet military industrialist. He was tempted with an art
scholarship and study at an institute to stop his explorations in
Judaism and Israel. "But Lipkin refused," says Yuli Edelstein, a
former Soviet Jewish prisoner of Zion. "He sought to be close to
Judaism. He never wanted to be a warrior or hero. He sought to learn
Torah in a happy way."
In 1989, Lipkin arrived in Israel, and at the first opportunity
delved into Jewish studies. He first moved into the Jerusalem
neighborhood of Neveh Ya'acov and joined a Mossad Rav Kook yeshiva for
Russian immigrants while learning on his own at every opportunity.
Within months, he was teaching.
"He immediately wanted to give to others," says Aryeh Volvosky of
the El Ami Russian Jewish seminary. "We organized seminars for olim.
His lectures were well-attended because he knew how to speak. This
was his most blessed work. He taught the importance of Jews to the
land. Why the olim are here. Even if it's hard, he said, this is
their land."
For the first two years, Lipkin was an active artist. He soon
moved to the Etzion Bloc community of Alon Shvut, and organized
exhibitions for immigrants in which he also displayed his own works.
At the same time, he taught drawing and painting to Russians and
Israelis. As a first step, he would encourage his students to learn
how to draw with a simple pencil. From there, they advanced to
watercolors and oil paint.
Soon, the Americans began to notice Lipkin's work. He was
commissioned to do a mosaic for a synagogue in the U.S. Lipkin was
also a representative of the United Jewish Appeal and participated in
its "Thank You America" campaign, traveling with UJA groups visiting
Israel to provide a personal point of view.
Lipkin's biggest project was a Russian translation of the
Encyclopedia Judaica in conjunction with Hebrew University. He was
translating, designing and illustrating the publication in a project
that he estimated would be completed in 1996. As his friends describe
it, this was to be Lipkin's way of ensuring that Russian Jews would
never be bereft of Jewish knowledge.
From Alon Shvut, Lipkin moved to Tekoa in 1991. He wanted a room
of his own for his art, and in Tekoa he could afford to build. The
Judean community was popular among Russians, and today 70 of its 180
families come from the former Soviet Union. Unlike many communities,
it has unreservedly welcomed immigrants.
His colleagues say Lipkin's direction in art changed when he began
to learn Kabbala. The new works that decorated his art room were
bright pictures. Blue and pink clashed with green. White and tan
often served as the background.
The last painting Lipkin worked on is still on the easel near the
window of the small, cluttered room. The picture appears nearly
complete. A horse-like figure turns its head towards a white-skinned
human with wings. It could be a woman. It could be an angel.
Ella Moskowitz, an artist and another of Lipkin's neighbors, looks
at the picture and says, "It's a picture of the horse throwing off his
rider. It is the end of the road. That's how I interpreted it when I
walked in."
-- From _Jerusalem Post Magazine_, 16 July 1993.
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ZIONISM LIVES IN JUDEA
_A Zionist Response to Murder_
The day after Mordechai Lipkin's murder, on Friday, July 9, scores of
Etzion Bloc residents shared a common reaction whose origins seemed to
come from the depths of their hearts and souls. They seemed drawn to
the site of the murder on the hill five minutes from Tekoa -- not as
curiousity-seekers, as might happen in other countries, but just to be
there. The Jewish blood spilled there and the life taken had made the
place hallowed ground, and all somehow shared a belief that it was
their task to build something Jewish there to replace the loss.
Eleven years ago a Tekoa man named David Rosenfeld was stabbed to
death by terrorists at Herodion. At that time the citizens of Tekoa
established the Jewish village of El David in honor of Rosenfeld and
Tekoan Eli Pressman, who was killed in Lebanon. Today El David is home
to 60 families. Israel is dotted with villages established by Zionist
pioneers in the 1930s and '40s, and named after the fallen. Israel is
also covered with stone commemoration markers erected at such sites. The
reaction of thousands of Jews in the Etzion Bloc was the natural result
of their belief in Zionism, which they teach to their children by the
example of their own lives. All the men in the Etzion Bloc serve in the
Israeli army. Forty thousand Jews have made their homes in Judea since
the Six-Day War, reversing the ethnic cleansing of 1948 in the Etzion
Bloc and of 1929 in Hebron.
_Rabin and Peres Found Tekoa_
Tekoa, the first modern Jewish village in the eastern part of the
Etzion Bloc at the edge of the desert, was established in 1977 by
decision of then-Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin and then-Defense Minister
Shimon Peres, as part of the security-based Allon plan. The Tekoa area
has been an integral part of the defenses of Jerusalem throughout
history. After Judah Maccabee was killed in battle, the Maccabees
withdrew their forces to the area of Tekoa where they regrouped under
Shimon and then retook Jerusalem, an event celebrated by Jews every year
on Hanukkah. Bar-Kochba made good use of the fortress of Herodion, an
easily visible landmark southeast of Jerusalem which today is a
state-supervised archeological attraction located next to El David and
Tekoa.
In the early 1990s, 50 Jewish families from the ex-USSR, among
them Mordechai and Ilana Lipkin, came to join the 100 families living
in Tekoa. They and thousands of others who have made their homes in
the Etzion Bloc and throughout Judea and Samaria in the past twenty
years, share a belief in traditional, classic Zionism -- a love of
Eretz Israel that comes from the heart more than the mind, and an
indisputably chauvenistic belief that the Jews and Israel belong to
each other more than any other competing claim, that Israel is more
special to the Jews than to anyone else. There are those who
disagree, but these Zionists have chosen to devote a larger part of
their time and attention to building Jewish life in Israel than to
worrying about the sensitivities and concerns of those who negate
Zionism.
Jews in the diaspora often fail to realize that the struggle over
Eretz Israel has not yet ended. Apparently hidden from view of all
except those who live there, the PLO and other Arab sources have for
years been financing a campaign of building and planting on vacant
land, thereby claiming control of vast territories in Judea and
Samaria since 1967. There is no reason for Jews to forfeit their
right to also claim and settle in the vacant hilltops and semi-arid
regions such as the Zionist pioneers made bloom in earlier decades.
This is the Zionist challenge that remains for the Jewish pioneers of
today.
The Etzion Bloc is witnessing a marvelous rebirth of Jewish life
in these days. The original kibbutzim that were destroyed in 1948 by
the Arab Legion and local Arab villagers were immediately rebuilt
after the Six-Day War in 1967 by the Labor government at the time.
They included Kfar Etzion, Rosh Tzurim, and Migdal Oz. Later came the
town of Alon Shvut where the regional school, community center, and
administrative offices came to be located, followed by Elazar, Neve
Daniel, and Mevo Betar. Today there are two new Jewish towns -- Efrat
and Betar -- and new villages including all those mentioned here plus
Karmei Tsur, Kedar, Har Gilo, Bat Ayin, and, one day, Maale Mordechai.
_The First Confrontation_
On that Friday families began to come to the murder site -- to
make it Jewish. By Friday morning there was a painted stone marker at
the site and people began to explore the empty land on the hill above.
By Friday afternoon the Etzion Bloc Regional Council had brought in a
generator, a temporary shelter, and the blue and white flag of Israel
flew over the hill.
As families streamed to the site, with tents, children, and enough
food for Shabbat, the army received orders to intervene. Roadblocks
were set up on all the roads leading to the site -- roadblocks to stop
Jews only. These roadblocks were manned not by reservists but by
young conscripts, largely from the metropolitan areas along the coast.
Arab onlookers, who had watched in silence from their rooftops, began
jeering and throwing stones when they saw the Israeli army moving
against the Jews.
At sundown, Friday evening, Shabbat evening prayers were begun by
those who got to the site early enough, before the army roadblocks
went up. Then, at the order of the local army commander, soldiers
interrupted the Jewish worshippers in the middle of the prayer
service. If they had done so to Moslems at prayer, an international
incident would have ensued. The Jews were removed, the Israeli flag
was lowered, and people's belongings were trashed by some of the
soldiers, who apparently had not received the same Zionist education.
_The Power of an Idea_
No one wanted any confrontation with the army. Announcements to
this effect were made by the official elected leadership at public
meetings, in circulated public letters, and in private conversations.
But at the same time the power of an idea was pulling ordinary Jews
into extraordinary actions -- to try to get past the soldiers -- to
join together in an authentic Jewish response to the murder of one of
their own.
Saturday night the feelings grew to phenomenal proportions. Much
of the adult population of Tekoa and El David, together with M.K.
Hanan Porat (NRP), were stopped at midnight at an army roadblock north
of the site. Hundreds more from Alon Shvut, Efrat, and Kfar Etzion
were blocked to the west. A group from Maale Amos, blocked by yet
another army roadblock to the south, began walking through the wadis
in the dark to reach the place. Other area veterans traveled on back
roads for hours to circumvent army roadblocks.
When blocked on the road by the soldiers, people left their cars and
instinctively walked down into the dry river beds and up the hills on
both sides of the road. Busloads of soldiers with searchlights streamed
in to stop these basically normal Jewish people -- nurses, teachers and
engineers by day -- from walking at midnight to the site of the murder of
their neighbor.
_Seven Days of Mourning_
In an effort to defuse the situation, the army agreed to allow
prayer at the site and allowed two busloads of Jews from the Tekoa
group to join others who had reached the hill, but without food or
sleeping gear. Around 2 a.m. the army ordered the Jews from Tekoa
back into the buses and they refused. Without enough manpower to man
the roadblocks and round up the Jews scattered among the rocks in the
dark, the army commander in charge of the incident, perhaps Defense
Minister Rabin himself, then reconsidered and agreed to a Jewish
presence at the site for the seven-day period of mourning.
By Sunday afternoon, July 11, the flag of Israel was flying again.
The army erected tents, shade netting, water tanks, and toilets. The
generator was returned. And people from all the Jewish towns and
villages in the area and beyond came to visit.
On Sunday evening Mordechai Lipkin was buried at the Kfar Etzion
cemetery. The funeral had been delayed until Sunday to await the
arrival of Ilana, Mordechai's wife, who had been in the Ukraine as an
official emissary of the Israel Education Ministry to help choose
prospective students for high schools in Israel. Police directed
traffic for the unbroken stream of cars arriving for the funeral. The
press reported 5,000 in attendance. They did not all know Mordechai
personally, but his death had touched each one.
During the week CNN came, and Israel Television. People came to
study, to write, to just sit there and talk with their neighbors.
Local stores donated food. Families slept there every night. Jewish
life spontaneously sprang up at the site of the murder.
At first the site was named Tekoa Gimmel, since Tekoans had
established a new neighborhood known as Tekoa Bet in the spring of
1992 before the last elections. It was then called Yad Mordechai Bet
after a famous kibbutz in the south, and finally Maale Mordechai
(Maale = Heights).
On Friday, July 16, three massive boulders from Tekoa were set
down at the site as the base for a permanent commemorative marker. By
that evening, Erev Shabbat, one week after the attempted removal of
the Jews by the army, scores of families were camped out on the hill
under army protection.
After a week the army took down its tents and, as per the
agreement with the army, the people left the site. But they showed up
again the next day, and the next. Every day scores of Jews return to
Maale Mordechai, to learn, to visit, to celebrate Jewish holidays and
family occasions, to be there in solidarity with the idea of
fulfilling the authentic Zionist Jewish answer to the murder of a Jew
in Judea. Their daily presence continued throughout the summer.
_Beginning the Fight for Hill 809_
Hill 809 is an unpopulated hilltop of about 1,000 dunam of
officially-declared state land which had been slated for settlement by
previous governments, located within the jurisdiction of the Etzion
Bloc Regional Council, which sought permission to begin to build
there. Its security value is paramount, positioned as it is near a key
road junction between Efrat and Tekoa, and overlooking one of the two
roads into Jerusalem from the south. Hill 809 is further positioned to
block hostile elements moving north from Sair and Hebron, thereby
helping to defend the Jewish villages of the eastern Etzion Bloc (El
David, Tekoa, Maale Amos, and Metzad), as well as helping to secure
the road to other sites in the Judean Desert known to be important to
the army. Hill 809 was the natural choice for a permanent settlement
in honor of Mordechai Lipkin.
A final strategic argument for the establishment of Maale
Mordechai on Hill 809 was that it would deter further such attacks.
Anwar Sadat, with recognized expertise in understanding the Arab mind,
believed in the importance of psychological factors. There is no
clearer psychological message to those inclined to hunt down Jews than
the traditional Zionist message: that the murder of Jews in Eretz
Israel will result in more Jewish life in that place, not less. Only
when that message gets through, and not a message of weakness or
restraint, will such tragedies end.
The operation to build a Jewish village on Hill 809 began an hour
before sundown on August 29, 1993. The effort had been postponed
once, having been scheduled a week earlier but cancelled at the last
minute as the nation went into mourning for eight soldiers killed on
the same day in Lebanon.
That evening scores of Jewish citizens put aside their normal
routine to fulfill their civic duty to settle the Land of Israel.
Lines of cars set out from a number of neighboring Jewish villages --
Tekoa, Efrat, Alon Shvut, Neve Daniel, Elazar -- to climb up a steep
and barely navigable dirt road, with its worst ruts having been filled
in advance by those who prepared the operation. At the top of the
hill was a wide empty area, with the only sign of recent activity
being scattered mounds of quarry stone waste.
At dusk we could see the lights of Metzad on the next hill, the
Maale Amos crossroads heading out into the Judean Desert, the
Efrat-Tekoa road which Mordechai Lipkin had been traveling the night
he was murdered, and the lights of Jerusalem not far away. The head of
the Gush Etzion Regional Council, Shilo Gal of Kfar Etzion, was with
us, as was M.K. Yigal Bibi (NRP). There were many Russian immigrants,
some former students of Lipkin. People unpacked sleeping bags, food,
and cellular telephones and watched their numbers grow as word
spread. Eventually a lone army jeep found its way up, parking at the
end of the line of cars and reporting back on the scene.
The first news crew to arrive was from CNN. Our timing had
coincided with the breaking story of the Peres-PLO agreement. Israel
Army radio was next, along with newspapers reporters and, finally,
Israel Television. It was near midnight when another army vehicle
arrived, this time with officers from Bethlehem regional headquarters
who held up a paper before the cameras declaring the hill a "closed
military area," which required us to leave. But the now two carloads
of soldiers did not try to enforce the order, so the people settled
down for the night, scattering among the cars and down the sides of
the hill.
Yet the security forces were gathering for a major counter-
operation. Roadblocks were set up to block further reinforcements from
reaching us. Buses were brought to the bottom of the hill to carry away
those arrested. Women soldiers were brought to deal with woman
civilians. Ambulances were at the ready. At the site itself, scores of
soldiers, police, and border police units arrived.
At 3 a.m. an order was given over a megaphone for all soldiers to
withdraw to their vehicles and for the border police to come forward.
Then the border police commander announced that all civilians had five
minutes to leave the area or be arrested and taken to Bethlehem jail.
Five minutes later the border police heard the order: "Begin to hit
(_leharbitz_)."
It was time to leave. No one wanted to confront the security
forces, most of whom seemed personally sympathetic to what the
civilians were trying to do. Those who were in hiding and not in
immediate contact with the border police gave up as well when an army
tow truck came forward to tow away their cars, which were not likely
to emerge intact if towed down that steep hill. As the people drove
away in the early morning, with no arrests and no one hurt, they
greeted the soldiers they passed with: "We will be back."
Even the establishment of Maale Mordechai as a Nahal army outpost
on Hill 809 would be a compromise acceptable to many area residents,
along with approval of a permanent marker surrounded by a park on the
hillside where Mordechai Lipkin was murdered, and where so many
struggled in response to bring Jewish life back to that place.
Nothing in the recent Palestinian-Israeli agreement need be
interpreted as blocking these requests. The Etzion Bloc is already a
reality and the establishment of Maale Mordechai on an empty hilltop
at its border could be declared a necessity for reasons of security.
There are some Jews who fail to accord any special weight to
Jewish claims to Eretz Israel based on biblical, historical, moral,
legal and national grounds, even labelling those who offer such claims
as extremists. On these questions everyone will look into their own
soul and decide for themselves. Yet among the Jewish community of the
Etzion Bloc, Zionism still lives and the fight to restore Jewish life
in Judea will continue. -- M.A.
*********************************************************************
THE BROKEN DREAM
Avraham Tirush
In September 1987 I visited Mordechai and Ilana Lipkin in their
apartment on Marshal Ostenov Street in Moscow. There I met Jews who
wanted to emigrate to Israel and who came to hear about it from two
Israelis, Zvi Zameret and myself, who had arrived in Moscow as part of
the Israeli delegation to the Moscow Book Fair.
The USSR was still ruled by Gorbachev, still closed, still
Communist; it still suppressed Jewish activists and made life
difficult for anyone who wished to learn Hebrew or emigrate to Israel.
Every visitor from Israel was still followed and harrassed by the KGB.
Not every Jew at that time was willing to meet with visitors from
Israel, and certainly not for the purpose of hosting an Israeli
evening in their home. Mordechai Lipkin was willing. A successful
artist, he was part of a relatively younger generation of activists
who were not afraid of the Soviet government and fought it actively.
Even then he clung not only to Zionism and Eretz Israel, but also
to religion, and was one of the few who began to wear a kippa in
Moscow. He was one of those who were returning to Judaism and to
learning. He and his wife had already changed their Russian names to
Mordechai and Ilana, and they called their one-year-old son David.
On that same evening, tens of Jews had gathered in the Lipkin
apartment, of all ages and types, to meet with two emissaries from
Israel. As in similar cases, here too the KGB and police were
stationed outside to intimidate and frighten the participants. They
did not prevent anyone from entering and those who came were not
intimidated by the threatening demonstrative present of the
representatives of the violence-prone government. They totally packed
the small living room and the corridor, people sat on the floor, on
the windowsill, two to a chair, or stood crowded together.
Mordechai, a gentle man, greeted everyone and appeared greatly
pleased with the fact that he was able to host the event in his home.
His Hebrew was already not bad and here and there he helped in
translating the questions and answers. The discussion was held in four
languages at once: Russian, English, Yiddish, and Hebrew. The
individual who was to have been the translator that evening had been
arrested the same day by the KGB and therefore never arrived.
The Jews were interested in everything happening in Israel and
some even demonstrated impressive knowledge of certain facets of
Israeli life. There were also, understandably, many questions about
absorption and employment and the meeting lasted a number of hours.
The first thing that caught the eye of anyone who entered the
Lipkin apartment in Moscow were the paintings on the walls, the fruits
of Mordechai's artistry. Most were of clearly Jewish themes with a
national Zionist message; Jerusalem and other views of Eretz Israel
starred in the paintings, though Mordechai had never been in Israel.
He drew from postcard scenes of Israel which he had collected. His
apartment also contained a large cache of books from Israel and
underground writings.
At the end of the evening Mordechai gave me a wine bottle upon
which he had drawn his dream of emigrating to Eretz Israel. To my
companion, Zvi, he gave a drawing that underscrored his return to
religion; on one side of the picture were the symbols of the Russian
diaspora -- the Kremlin, a pig, skulls, and other such -- and on the
other side: Judaism -- Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Shma Yisrael.
But the most memorable meeting of that evening occured in the tiny
kitchen of the apartment. After most of the people had left, we sat
there drinking tea. Then suddenly Mordechai's father burst in, an
elderly Russian Jew, who all these years had been distant from things
Israeli and Zionist, and we began to get to know him via his son.
He shook my hand with great feeling and exclaimed: "You are the
first Jew from Eretz Israel I have ever seen. You are the first Jew
from Israel I have ever touched," and afterward he dried his eyes.
In the months that followed, the government of the USSR began to
open the gates and allowed the Jewish activists to leave, one after
another. So, too, Mordechai Lipkin and his family were allowed to
leave after two more years and to settle in the Etzion Bloc, among the
magical landscapes that he had dreamed of and drawn. No one ever
imagined that the fulfillment of his dream would be cut short at the
hands of murderers and terrorists on a tranquil summer night in the
hills of Zion. -- From _Maariv_, 11 July 1993.
*******************************************************************
ILANA
Ilana, the young widow of Mordechai Lipkin, could not have chosen a
more appropriate Hebrew name for herself. Ilana is the feminine form of
Ilan, which in Hebrew means "tree." A tree must, first of all, have deep
roots in order to grow to be strong enough to withstand the vagaries of
nature. A tree must also be flexible so as to bend but not break when
the storms lash against it.
Ilana Lipkin's roots, both psychological and Jewish, are obviously
strong. The storm that came sweeping over her life did not break her.
After she observed the traditional seven days of Jewish mourning, Ilana
came to sit under the almond and fig trees at Maale Mordechai, the site
of her husband's murder, together with other Jews from Tekoa and the
area. She spoke of how she and Mordechai had met in Moscow exactly ten
years prior to Mordechai's murder. Ilana also spoke of how difficult it
was to look at her fatherless children upon her return from the Ukraine,
where she had been working when Mordechai was murdered. She spoke, too,
of the mundane things to be taken care of, such as getting her husband's
car, in which he had been murdered, from the police compound and learning
how to drive it.
Ilana is also the mother of four little boys. Sometimes they come
with her to Maale Mordechai. The older children have drawn pictures of
the site and Ilana carefully puts them away for safekeeping. A month
after Mordechai's murder, I ran into Ilana and her children at the
International Puppet Festival in Jerusalem -- a small step toward some
kind of normalcy in their lives. She also attends the demonstrations of
those who believe that the Land of Israel belongs to the People of
Israel.
Ilana Lipkin is not breaking. She is riding out the storm, shored up
by her own strong roots and with the help of other strong Jews. -- Y.A.
*******************************************************************
*** BACK ISSUES ***
Back issues of Judea Electronic Magazine include:
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JUDEA Magazine is an academic-oriented bi-monthly electronic magazine
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