In the Land of Israel

I traveled from Odessa by boat for eleven days until we arrived in Jaffa—this was the path taken by the Russian company’s ships. However, this was not the true length of the journey, which was in fact only some five or six days. This was due to the fact that the ships had been intended to transport only cargo between the Black Sea and the Mediterranean Sea; revenue from passengers was negligible in the eyes of the shipping company. As a result, our path zigged and zagged as the ships docked on myriad shores along the way and tarried for hours and days at each, unloading and loading a variety of wares. Even the distance from Alexandria to Jaffa, which is so very near, took us two days to travel because we turned aside to Port Said, the new city that had been built in the sandy desert with the digging of the Suez Canal. [ . . . ]

On the evening of 10 Ḥeshvan [November 4, 1889] we sailed from Port Said toward Jaffa. I eagerly awaited my first glimpse of the shores of that city like a fieldhand who seeks cool shade, and my heart pounded and throbbed. I gathered my acquaintances from among my fellow passengers, and from my rucksack I took out the last of the provisions—the savory delicacies and the sweets that I had brought with me from my home—and spirit was not lacking either. Why hide my feelings? I could no longer cage the joy of my heart within myself; for here I was, drawing nearer and nearer this very day to the goal that I had aspired to ever since the moment I had first known my own mind, about which I had held forth in dreams and in waking life, which I had vowed to go to these many years. . . . And there was evening and there was night [see Genesis 1]. Everyone on board was sleeping deeply, and I alone was awake. Here I was, pacing around the deck of the boat from one side to the other: perhaps I would see something—the spyglass glued to my eye—perhaps I would find a dot, perhaps a light from afar might reach us . . .

“Jaffa!” cried one of my Jewish traveling companions from behind me, but his rousing shout was already for naught; not only my two eyes but my heart and my soul as well were already straining through the spyglass: and slowly, slowly, the black specks were revealed more clearly to my eyes. [ . . . ]

My dear reader, I am not a poet, but I had never before in my life seen a morning like that. When I saw this place I was awestruck, saying, “This is nothing less than the source of poetry itself, the gate to Parnassus.¹ Now I could know, now I could understand, why the nature of this land has continually brought forth poets and hymnists,² for the spirit of grace and beauty has spilled out across the Land, calling out forcefully to any man with a feeling heart: Come my beloved; let your voice be heard; and we will sing a song to the Lord. . . .”³

Through the inferno—thus I have heard it said—they will come to Paradise, and through filthy alleys⁴ came I to the Land of Israel. I walked through streets narrow and crooked, the pavement so broken a wheeled cart could no longer traverse them, and everywhere dogs lay lazily. I walked on foot to the hotel, through the markets and the rows of shops. In Jaffa too, as in all cities of the Orient, the markets are [seemingly] built without any order or formal plan, preventing a newcomer from finding his way easily through the markets’ dim lanes and tangled passages. What is more, the stores are not ordered either, for none of them sell a single set of merchandise nor are the merchants of any particular commodity adjacent to each other within the marketplace, for the merchants have set themselves up in a great mixture: beside a spice merchant sits a butcher selling meat, and beside him, a blacksmith stoking a coal fire. The European travelers gawk in wonder at this strange scene, which upholds the prejudice upon all the Sons of Shem:⁵ that the lack of order is, for them, order . . .

But when I passed through the streets of the city and entered the hotel, then I felt great pleasure and tranquility, for I found something that I could have barely hoped for: a Jerusalemite [Lipa Kaminitz] has planted an eshel⁶ (Genesis 21:33), [a hotel chain with branches] in Jaffa, Jerusalem, and Hebron—Jewish travelers would no longer roll about with the lowly middlemen in hotels (that are more like doghouses), for here they would find true rest and good, healthy food, although they must pay five francs a day for this pleasure. The hotel’s location in Jaffa is outside of the city proper, in the German Colony, on the road leading toward Shechem [Nablus], adjoined by gardens and orchards, with flowers and lilies along the path. I changed my attire and walked out to see Mr. [Yeḥiel] Pines, who is an agent of Ḥovevei Tsiyon [Lovers of Zion] in Palestine, to consult with him regarding my route for visiting the colonies and the most eminent towns. For I had made a route for myself from Jaffa to Rishon Lezion, and from there—to Gedera, Naḥalat Reuven (Wadi Ḥanin), then Be’er Tuvia (Kastina), and afterward back to Gedera, and from there on to ‘Ekron, then from ‘Ekron via Rishon Lezion to Petaḥ Tikva and Yehud. After that heading to Jerusalem, from Jerusalem to Nablus, Tiberias, Safed, Rosh Pina, Yesod Hama‘alah, and then back to Rosh Pina, heading to Haifa via Peki‘in, the colony of Jews who have been living in the Land from ancient times (who speak only Arabic);⁷ from Haifa to Zikhron Ya‘akov—and from there returning to Jaffa. Mr. Pines admitted that it would be good to explore the land in this manner, but advised me that it would be very difficult to undertake this lengthy route in one go, and to cross through Palestine from one end to the other; furthermore, in the Galilee, the roads are unbuilt and would compel me to ride upon a donkey not only for a day or two, but for nearly two weeks. And behold, Mr. Pines was correct; ultimately, I did not reach the towns of the Galilee.

Jaffa is the most renowned coastal city in Pleshet,⁸ and it is through that city that nearly all of those who travel to Palestine will be arriving. And behold this wonder: most of our brethren who dwell in this city, some two thousand people, do not depend upon the ḥalukah.⁹ I found here few traces of the pure spirit [i.e., nationalism] that passed in recent years throughout Palestine, the pure spirit that has ushered in our young brethren, the children of the Holy Land, many new ideas: these youths worry about what will become of them, and act, lest they become dependent—for their whole lives—upon philanthropic support. Thus also in Jaffa, a suburb has been recently established, whose population is predominantly Jewish, called “Neve Shalom,” and so too, another suburb of Jaffa called “Neve Tzedek,” which was exclusively Jewish. Fifty Jews united to buy a plot of land on the seashore, in a place where the air is excellent, and established a company for the construction of houses. And this is how it worked: the land was divided into fifty lots, and with company’s money [i.e., the funds pooled together by these fifty shareholders], ten houses were built in the first year, and then they cast lots to determine which of the fifty members would receive these homes. In the second year they built a further ten houses, and lots were cast among the remaining forty; and so on in the third and fourth years, and thus too in the fifth year, in which they completed the construction of all fifty houses. This whole time each member of the company paid in modest installments, even those who were awarded their lots, up until they had completed repaying all of the money that the company had paid to purchase the land and to construct the houses. One can achieve much by being united; but where are you, O all-powerful quality [i.e., unity]? The Jewish people say: it’s not in me; and our people [say]: I do not have it.¹⁰ Is it possible, that in these days, our brethren in the Land of Israel are giving birth [to unity]—in this land where a nation dwelled, heavy with sin, ever increasing in its crimes against unity and peace, where we broke the covenant between brothers, causing great divisions that burden us to this day? Have we learned our lesson?