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Authors: Benjamin Netanyahu
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political
movement that took account of the modern world. He understood the forces of politics and power, of personality and persuasion;
above all, Herzl was animated by a profound understanding of history and by a vision of the impending tragedy of European
Jewry and of the triumphant possibility of revived Jewish statehood. He therefore pressed the Zionist claim with all the urgency
he could muster.
While his disciples in many countries propelled the ideas of political Zionism toward the concrete goal of the founding of
the state, Zionist pioneers undertook the massive effort of settling a land that had been allowed to fall into disuse by absentee
Arab landlords living the good life in Beirut and Damascus. The Jews turned barren scenery, alternating between rock and swamp,
into productive farmland, dotted first with villages, then towns, thencities. This effort was assisted by a few wealthy Jews, most notably Moses Montefiore and Baron Rothschild, who put up the
funds for many of the pivotal early projects. The first such enterprise was appropriately titled Rishon Le-Zion (“The First
of Zion”), an agricultural settlement founded in 1882 by Russian Jewish settlers who soon received Rothschild’s assistance.
When Abraham Markus, my maternal great-grandfather, arrived at Rishon Le-Zion several years later, in 1896, it was still a
cluster of red-tiled whitewashed houses springing up in the middle of a sandy wilderness. (Today it is prime real estate,
minutes away from Tel Aviv on the coastal highway.) One of the “Lovers of Zion,” Abraham wanted to be a scholar-farmer, planting
almond trees by day and studying the Talmud at night. By the time my mother was born in nearby Petah Tikva (“Gate of Hope”)
in 1912, the family was living, amid orchards they had planted, in a fine house with a promenade of palm trees leading up
to it.
But these luxuries were enjoyed only by the few “established” families; newcomers had to face much tougher conditions. When
my paternal grandfather Nathan arrived in Palestine in 1920, there were hardly any paved roads and virtually no modern transport.
The family disembarked from the ship in rowboats, as there were no mooring facilities in the port of Jaffa at the time. After
spending some time in Tel Aviv, the new Jewish suburb of Jaffa, they traveled for two days on a dirt road to Tzemah on the
southern shore of the Sea of Galilee. There my grandfather and my father boarded a boat to take the luggage to Tiberias five
miles away, while the rest of the family continued by carriage. It was late afternoon, and the sudden violent gales so typical
of the lake nearly smashed the vessel in two. They stayed overnight in Tiberias, then made their way by horse-drawn carriage
up the steep slopes to Safed, changing horses in Rosh Pina, another point of Jewish settlement in the barren wilderness that
was otherwise relieved only by sparse Bedouin encampments. As late as 1920, the trip from Jaffa to Safed took more than three
days. Today it can be done comfortably in three hours.
Beginning with the first wave of Zionist immigration in 1880 and continuing through successive waves before and after World
War I, the country was rapidly transformed. The Jews built roads, towns, farms, hospitals, factories, and schools. And as
Jewish immigration increased their numbers, it also caused a rapid increase in the Arab population. Many of the Arabs immigrated
into the land in response to the job opportunities and the better life afforded by the growing economy the Jews had created—so
much so that in 1939 President Franklin D. Roosevelt was moved to observe that “Arab immigration into Palestine since 1921
has vastly exceeded the total Jewish immigration during this whole period.” 44
The improved economic conditions that the influx of Jewish industry and commerce created fueled a steep rise in income and
industrialization among the Arabs of Palestine that had no parallel in any
movement that took account of the modern world. He understood the forces of politics and power, of personality and persuasion;
above all, Herzl was animated by a profound understanding of history and by a vision of the impending tragedy of European
Jewry and of the triumphant possibility of revived Jewish statehood. He therefore pressed the Zionist claim with all the urgency
he could muster.
While his disciples in many countries propelled the ideas of political Zionism toward the concrete goal of the founding of
the state, Zionist pioneers undertook the massive effort of settling a land that had been allowed to fall into disuse by absentee
Arab landlords living the good life in Beirut and Damascus. The Jews turned barren scenery, alternating between rock and swamp,
into productive farmland, dotted first with villages, then towns, thencities. This effort was assisted by a few wealthy Jews, most notably Moses Montefiore and Baron Rothschild, who put up the
funds for many of the pivotal early projects. The first such enterprise was appropriately titled Rishon Le-Zion (“The First
of Zion”), an agricultural settlement founded in 1882 by Russian Jewish settlers who soon received Rothschild’s assistance.
When Abraham Markus, my maternal great-grandfather, arrived at Rishon Le-Zion several years later, in 1896, it was still a
cluster of red-tiled whitewashed houses springing up in the middle of a sandy wilderness. (Today it is prime real estate,
minutes away from Tel Aviv on the coastal highway.) One of the “Lovers of Zion,” Abraham wanted to be a scholar-farmer, planting
almond trees by day and studying the Talmud at night. By the time my mother was born in nearby Petah Tikva (“Gate of Hope”)
in 1912, the family was living, amid orchards they had planted, in a fine house with a promenade of palm trees leading up
to it.
But these luxuries were enjoyed only by the few “established” families; newcomers had to face much tougher conditions. When
my paternal grandfather Nathan arrived in Palestine in 1920, there were hardly any paved roads and virtually no modern transport.
The family disembarked from the ship in rowboats, as there were no mooring facilities in the port of Jaffa at the time. After
spending some time in Tel Aviv, the new Jewish suburb of Jaffa, they traveled for two days on a dirt road to Tzemah on the
southern shore of the Sea of Galilee. There my grandfather and my father boarded a boat to take the luggage to Tiberias five
miles away, while the rest of the family continued by carriage. It was late afternoon, and the sudden violent gales so typical
of the lake nearly smashed the vessel in two. They stayed overnight in Tiberias, then made their way by horse-drawn carriage
up the steep slopes to Safed, changing horses in Rosh Pina, another point of Jewish settlement in the barren wilderness that
was otherwise relieved only by sparse Bedouin encampments. As late as 1920, the trip from Jaffa to Safed took more than three
days. Today it can be done comfortably in three hours.
Beginning with the first wave of Zionist immigration in 1880 and continuing through successive waves before and after World
War I, the country was rapidly transformed. The Jews built roads, towns, farms, hospitals, factories, and schools. And as
Jewish immigration increased their numbers, it also caused a rapid increase in the Arab population. Many of the Arabs immigrated
into the land in response to the job opportunities and the better life afforded by the growing economy the Jews had created—so
much so that in 1939 President Franklin D. Roosevelt was moved to observe that “Arab immigration into Palestine since 1921
has vastly exceeded the total Jewish immigration during this whole period.” 44
The improved economic conditions that the influx of Jewish industry and commerce created fueled a steep rise in income and
industrialization among the Arabs of Palestine that had no parallel in any
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