Love of Israel
My Nation Is Faint
My nation is faint,
Her body is weak.
Her spirit drifts
Like a reed in the water.
But within her, her soul
Is as mighty as heaven.
She knows her worth
And the value of her life.
She mocks her oppressors.
Even when she grovels,
She knows that her strength
Will last forever.
She knows that her enemies’ might
Is a passing shadow.
She is as mighty as a lioness
When her heart grows hot,
Stalwart as a lioness
Fighting for her cubs.
Orot Harayah p. 55
Baseless Love
There is no such thing as “baseless love.” Why baseless? This other person is a Jew, and I am obligated to honor him. There is only “baseless hatred”—but “baseless love”? No!
Malachim Kivnei Adam, p. 484
The Dew of Lovingkindness
Love for the Jewish people and the work of defending the entire people and every individual is not just an emotional accomplishment. It is an important area of the Torah. It is a deep and broad wisdom with many branches, which blossom and draw sustenance from the rich dew of the light of the teaching of lovingkindness.
Malachim Kivnei Adam, p. 483
The Entirety of Israel
It is proper to yearn to be connected to the entirety of all Israel.
The more you purify your thoughts and deeds, the more can you connect to the highest and smallest levels of the entirety.
If there is smallness and preponderance of judgements [within you], the connection will be less inclusive. [And then,] if there is a lesser amount of connection with the most degraded level, there will be a lesser amount of connection with the greatest of levels.
This is because complete perfection is connection with the whole entirety—whatever the manner and measure.
Arpelei Torah, p. 47
The Entirety of Israel
It is proper to yearn to be connected to the entirety of all Israel.
The more you purify your thoughts and deeds, the more can you connect to the highest and smallest levels of the entirety.
If there is smallness and preponderance of judgements [within you], the connection will be less inclusive. [And then,] if there is a lesser amount of connection with the most degraded level, there will be a lesser amount of connection with the greatest of levels.
This is because complete perfection is connection with the whole entirety—whatever the manner and measure.
Arpelei Torah, p. 47
The Compassionate Mother
How should the Jewish people be guided?
Wildness has grown rampant, and the banner of lawlessness has been raised with an outstretched hand.
Perhaps the nation should be split, so that the good and kosher people, those who bear the banner of God’s name, should not associate with sinners who have cast off the yoke.
Or perhaps the value of general peace should be the deciding factor.
The cause of this disagreement is a universal state of degradation. The character of the nation, from the aspect of the superficial aspect of its spirit, has not yet been completely purified.
These points of view are like the argument of the two prostitutes who came to Solomon, each claiming a new-born baby as her own.
Solomon commanded: “Bring a sword.”
That command is a test from God’s wisdom for the kingdom of Israel.
The woman dismissed is the one who demands, “Divide the child in two!” Her bitterness exposes the true resentment in her heart. Her only thought is: “Neither you nor I will have it.”
The compassionate mother, the true mother, says, “Give her the living child. Surely do not kill him!”
And God’s holy spirit cries out: “Give that one the living child, for she is his mother!”
There is no end to the evils, physical and spiritual, that would devolve from the division of the nation. Such a total separation, desired by those who would cruelly tear it in half, is impossible, and never will occur. It is literally an idolatrous idea that will never come about: “You say: Let us be like the nations, like the families of the earth, serving wood and stone. By My life, says the Lord God, with a strong hand and with an outstretched arm, with poured forth wrath shall I rule over you!” (Ezekiel 20).
Like any thought of idolatry, this idea is destructive and dismaying, even when it has not come about in actuality.
The stance of the righteous in every generation is supported even by the wicked. As long as they, despite their wickedness, cling in their hearts to all the nation, then “your people are entirely righteous” (Isaiah 60). Their superficial wickedness strengthens the righteous, like the lees in wine (Zohar Naso 128).
But attempted division burrows under the foundation of all holiness, like the work of Amalek, who cut off the weak, those who had been ejected by the cloud of glory.
“He sent his hand against God’s perfect ones. He desecrated His covenant” (Psalms 55).
Orot Hatichiyah, 20
Thoughts on Jewish Nationalism
I.
The national, active disposition of the people of Israel comprises the outer garment to its spiritual disposition. The spiritual disposition is the light and soul of the active disposition.
Together, they emerge from the same source: the living God. They flow from the well of Godly truth and faith.
During all the days of exile, the vessel was completely shattered. Light in its abstract form, its awesome face turned only upwards, served the nation only as a general concern as to how to take hold of the pure, spiritual nationalism.
That divine light is the root soul of our nation. In its exiled state, no longer in the vessels of action that had once contained it, it shone with an increase of light for the people of Israel. God’s Presence descended with Israel into exile. It dwelled within them and wandered wherever they wandered.
The soul did not expand its desires. Rather, it fixed them within the concepts of fear of God, faith in God, care in the Torah and mitzvot for the one reason that they are the command of God.
We were then “like a bird wandering from its nest.”
II.
According to the degree that each individual rises and that his individual nature is purified, so does he give the character of the nation its most exalted status. Because of that individual, the nation has added to it a crown of beauty. It becomes entirely worthy of love and of being clung to in grace.
And so, the spiritual aspect of the strengthening of nationalism depends on the specific purification of every individual.
III.
One of the differences between Jewish and non-Jewish nationalism is the following.
In every other nation, the basis of nationalism and its emotional element shares its national psychology with the natural psychological drive in every individual. That natural psychological drive precedes the nature of growth and accompanies with it—but without any particular maturation.
This is not the case with Jewish nationalism. Jewish nationalism is based on a great and profound moral imperative. Moral character needs constant maturation. It does not grow naturally by itself.
When we study the Torah from the national aspect (which is found explicitly in many mitzvot, and which is found in a hidden manner in all the mitzvot), we see that keeping the mitzvos is the nurturing foundation that strengthens the power of life of Jewish nationalism. Hidden within that foundation is the same material that nurtures morality. That material is necessary to establish the general, national drive in its proper place.
Orot
Twigs of a Tree of Life
The entire world of consciousness, and all that devolves from it, to the lowest of all levels—all of which levels comprise the entirety of existence—are shifting from times of silence to times of speech. When the situation is one of preparation to receive the supernal outpouring, all is silent and still. And when the situation comes to the measure that those who receive pour forth to them who is lower than they, then speech begins.
In regard to human beings, the situation is also in flux. When the preparation of one’s consciousness is directed to clarifying the qualities that are lower than where one stands, then a constricted consciousness rules, and the practical ability carries out its activity. But when the supernal attention grows in strength, then the particularized consciousness cannot carry out its activity, and silence begins to rule.
When a person comes to this measure, the normal activity of consciousness—whether in secular or in holy matters—is below his level. He finds within himself constantly great forces of opposition regarding all activity of consciousness that is rational and ordered. He must prepare himself for the measure of silence—paying attention to the voice from the heights that brings blessing, good will, and a voluntary spirit. The word of God will come to him, and day to day will express speech.
Be glad to consider yourself a mere scrap of the entirety of the people of Israel, the inheritance of God. May all the thoughts of your heart, your ideas, your desire, your idealism, your faith, your conception, be nothing else than one hidden desire to be totally absorbed in that wealth of life: the people of Israel.
Recognize within that we are twigs of a tree of life whose branches are many, whose fruits are exalted. Recognize within that the more we are enveloped in the body of that tree, the more do we live a fresh and perfect life—in the now and in the eternal. That recognition will complete the revival of our people. Only that recognition will awaken that end for which we so ardently yearn, giving us the safety of salvation.
There are individuals called by God, the pious of the generation, supernally holy. They must not gaze at any flaw, at any negative aspect of any Jew who clings, in whatever fashion, to the Rock from which he was hewn. They must rather elevate the universal point in each individual soul to its great height, to its exalted holiness.
Unbounded love for the nation, the mother of our life, cannot be reduced by any reasoning or stumblingblock that might exist. “He has not gazed upon sin in Jacob, nor has he seen wearisomeness in Israel. The Lord His God is with him; the friendship of the King is with him.” Let us rise above all hostile thoughts of superficial understanding, which, expressed in rebuke and pronouncements, arouse anger and brotherly hate. Let us be filled with good will, suffused in the dew of mighty mercy, let us embrace with loving arms and bring to the house of Jacob every soul that wishes to see our this-worldly joy and to rejoice together in our inheritance.
From the midst of faithful love, from the midst of those whisperings of glory so deeply experienced in the warmth of our spirit and soul, we come to announce the return to Torah and commandment, to holiness and faith, to the inheritance of the forefathers and the tradition of the founders, to the light of the Lord, the God of Israel, Who rests upon His people and His land forever, in the glory of His might.
Let us remove all grumbling, let us rise above smallness of mind and of heart, let us rise beyond hatred and resentment. Let us absorb the fresh love from its source in Eden, let us connect the branches of mercy to the roots of mindfulness, the glory of freedom to respect for elders, the respect for parents and teachers of an ancient nation, exalted and strong.
To this powerful rebirth are we called. Let us come forth: to the beloved land of our fathers, the land of our life, which will prepare us for this great ascent. And our God, forever and ever, shall lead us beyond death.
Orot Hatechiyah, 24
Judgement Whose Goodness Is Intense
The mystical teachings tell us that [the energy of] every good deed that an evil person performs goes to a place of evil and pollution.
The Holy One, blessed be He, does not deny this person his reward. He pays him in this world for his slightest good deed.
This is the portion of the wicked.
To an even greater extent, [God is exacting with the righteous]. “In the land [of this world] shall he be paid” (Proverbs 11:31). “Those who surround Him are in a tempest” (Psalms 50:3).
All this proceeds from a judgement whose goodness is intense, whose purpose is that the light of holiness and goodness will grow stronger and increase.
In regard to entire nations, every good deed carried out by an evil nation strengthens the universal evil. “The mercy of nations is a sin” (Proverbs 14:34) [because they act solely out of self-interest (Bava Basra 10b)].
The nation of Israel, on the other hand, is “a righteous nation, keeping good faith” (Is. 26:2). And the Holy One is exacting with those who surround Him. This is true of the entire nation of Israel: “Only you have I known from all the families of the earth; therefore, I will visit upon you all your sins” (Amos 3:2).
When the greater part of a source is good, this indicates that really in its inner being it is entirely good. Every sin that comes from such a source actually contains in the wealth of its inner being great light and vast salvation.
When Yosef’s brothers sinned and sold him into slavery, the entire world was sustained, [for Yosef distributed food when “there was a famine in all the lands”].
And [the sages instituted a prayer,] “Even when the [Jews] transgress, may their needs come before You” (Ber. 28b).
However, the goodness and constructiveness that come from sin must be intensely purified—to such a degree that it will rise to perfect all creation.
This purification consists of sufferings, which scrub away sin (Ber. 5). Such sufferings purify those sins that come from the depth of goodness. They cleanse these sins of ugliness that comes from superficiality. They return these sins to their inner foundation—which is a life of truth and holiness.
No actions of the righteous ever go astray—even “his leaf does not wither, and all that he does succeeds” (Ps. 1:3). Even the most infinitesimal sin must be purified, in order to contribute to that universal, supernal state of activity to which every movement of one’s holy soul is directed.
“The Lord knows the way of the righteous” (Ps. 1:6). The Lord alone knows, on a level that no created being can conceive of.
Every return to God motivated by love arrives at that inner source where everything created is good, a retroactive structure of wholeness and honesty.
Sins are transformed to merits without the necessity for a new creation. Rather, these sins merely reveal their original state of being.
In a similar fashion, the new heavens and earth that the Holy One, blessed be He, will bring about in the days of the messiah will not be new. Even they already exist, [having been “created during the six days of creation” (Ber. Rabbah 1:18)].
“The new heavens and new earth that I [will] make are standing” (Is. 66:22)—they are standing now.
Orot Hateshuvah
The Shofar and the Workers
by Rabbi Ch. D. Ermon-Kastenbaum
A group of young Jewish construction workers who were pressed for time to complete a building in a Jerusalem neighborhood continued working on Rosh Hashanah.
When the neighbors grew aware of this, they immediately sent someone to inform Rav Kook.
A short while later, Rav Kook’s representative appeared on the site carrying a shofar. He approached the workers, who were astonished to see this religious man. After wishing the workers a good year, he told them that Rav Kook had sent him to blow the shofar for them. He politely asked them to interrupt their work and pay attention, and immediately recited the blessing and began to blow the shofar.
This statement of Rav Kook and the shofar blowing had their intended effect. Every shofar blast touched the hearts and awoke the Jewish core in these young workers. They put down their tools and gathered about the shofar-blower, some with tears in their eyes. In that skeletal, unfinished building echoed the ancient call of the shofar, reminding them of their father’s house, their grandfather’s visage, their town and synagogue; reminded them of a world of Jews standing in prayer. And they were inundated by questions: What has happened to us? Where are we, where have we gotten to? And they stood in confusion and reflection.
When the shofar blowing was completed, there was no need for words. Everyone decided to stop work. Some asked Rav Kook’s representative if they could accompany him. They quickly changed their clothes and walked together with him to Rav Kook’s beis medrash.
Moadei Harayah, p. 65
The Complete Saints
by Raziel Mamet
[The following is an episode that took place when the leading rabbis of the land of Israel toured the new, non-religious communities, on an teshuvah, or outreach, program.]
In the Jewish settlements in the Galilee, the delegation members met with a phenomenon that Rav Kook had spoken about even before he had decided to make aliyah to the land of Israel: the open hatred expressed towards Judaism.
In one of the settlements, the workers tried to belittle the delegation of rabbis. They led the delegation to a group of tents and said, “In this tent, a young man and woman live together. And in that tent as well and in that tent as well. In fact, in all these tents, men and women live together.”
Rabbi Sonnenfeld, who understood well the import of these words, frowned in anger.
Rav Kook turned to the speaker with gentleness. “So what is new about that? All over the world, a young man lives with a young woman. Would you prefer that a man should live with a man, heaven forbid?”
“You don’t seem to understand, rabbi. Here men and women live together without getting married.”
“And what happens?”
The workers raised their eyebrows in surprise. “What do you mean, what happens?” their spokesman replied. “Nothing happens. What do you expect would happen?”
[Translator’s note: The early socialistic, communistic kibbutzim were radically genderless—but, unlike the situation today, some were also radically anti-sexual—sexuality being personal and thus selfishly non-universal—and so men and women would live together as sexless comrades.]
“If that is the case,” concluded Rav Kook, “if that is so, you are all complete saints.”
“How is that?” came a outcry of surprise from the workers. “We—complete saints?”
“Certainly,” said Rav Kook. “You yourselves say that a young couple lives in every tent and still, nothing happens. You are all complete saints, since I am not convinced that if I and my fellow rabbis would be living like you in tents, that nothing would happen. I do not know if we would be able to withstand the test. [Translator’s note: Recall the story of Abaye in the Gemara, who followed the young couple to make sure that nothing unseemly occurred.] But you withstand the test—not for an hour or a day, but for many days. And so, as I said, you are complete saints, complete saints.”
That night, the workers sat with the rabbis, learned Torah and agreed to take on certain standards in kashrus and keeping Shabbos.
Late at night, while Rav Kook’s fellows sat and prayed the “Midnight Lament,” he wrote in his journal: “One of the greatest innovations that must be carried out in the communes and new settlements that have been recently established is to spread the Torah of Israel with respect and patience. This populace, these young workers and pioneers, must be approached in a unique manner—not with conventional words. The conventional cannot influence them—only a new way, a revolutionary approach. We must show them the light in the Torah. This is a generation that is ready, that can be influenced by new thoughts and intellectual freshness. Old, wrinkled words no longer draw their heart—and with good reason.”
And he then wrote in the margin in small letters, as though seeking to hide his opinion: “I feel like a man who is called to raise the banner, like a man who must unite the good and the healthy in both communities: the Old and the New. I am like a poor person sitting at the crossroads, in the shadows?? between these two holy communities, and New and the Old. These two communities are connected by a bond that cannot be severed, just as the soul is connected to the body, and together they comprise the person who lives, breathes, acts, and creates. The Old Community in the beauty of its holiness and the glory of its aristocratic old age shines a wealth of beautiful rays upon all of the New Community. And the New Community in its dewy youthfulness, in the wildness of its youth, in the dwellings of its adolescence, stands ready to electrify the heart and strengthen the hands of the Old Community, which has already been uplifted towards the heights of holiness for hundreds of years. Their mixing together will bring about the renewal of Israel.”
Lechishah Ro’emet
The Rabbi in the Guard’s Uniform
by Raziel Mamet
The rabbis’ campaign continued and approached its end. On Rosh Chodesh Kislev, towards evening, the delegation of rabbis went to Moshavah Puriah. Forty workers greeted them, most of them young men and women who had immigrated from the United States. On their way from Moshavah Yavneel, Rabbi Sonnenfeld had described to his fellow rabbis the situation in the settlement to which they were going: “I know that the young people there eat unkosher food that they prepare in their central kitchen. Also, they desecrate the Sabbath publicly. They do all their housework then, as though Shabbos did not even exist.”
When the delegation entered the settlement, shots were suddenly heard. A few workers rushed to where the shots had come from, and returned a short while later with a young Arab.
“What did he do?” asked the rabbis.
“He tried to steal sheep from our flock. The guards found him, shot in the air and caught him.”
The thief was taken to one of the rooms, where he was given food and drink.
“What do you plan to do with him?” asked Rabbi Sonnenfeld.
“We’ll keep him here tonight, and tomorrow morning we’ll bring him to the police.”
“You see,” said Rav Kook to Rav Sonnenfeld heatedly, “you see that they are just and reasonable. Is the spirit of God not in them? Do they not sanctify the name of heaven in public? See how careful they are about the laws of society and the moral laws between people.”
“True, true,” murmured the Jerusalem rabbi, “but what about the commandments between man and God?”
“Patience, Rabbi Chaim, patience.”
After the evening prayers, the rabbis agreed to eat on the settlement, but in no way would they agree to eat in the unkosher dining room. And so instead they sat by themselves in their room, eating bread, salted fish and sweetened tea.
From the large dining room, in which the workers were siting and eating, the sound of a lively song broke out.
Rav Kook said, “We must go into them. It is not possible for us to sit here while they sit there, like two camps.”
“Certainly,” his colleagues agreed. “That is why we have come here.”
The rabbis rose and went to the dining room. When the young workers saw them, they sang even louder. Rav Kook raised his hand, and quiet fell over the dining room.
“The time has come to make an end of the strange situation of distance and separation,” said Rav Kook, his eyes burning with feeling. “Dear brothers! Please come closer to us, for the time has come for a coming close of hearts between the Old Community and the New Community. They have been distanced from each other long enough. They have hated each other long enough. Look at us, the representatives of the Old Community. We stand before you in our kapotes, in our shtreimels, with side locks and beards. We have come a long way to be with you. We, the members of the Old Community, have come to you, to embrace you with loving arms. But, please, dear brothers, you too must take a step toward us. You must also come close to us and keep the basics of Judaism, those things that our nation kept throughout all its exiles. Listen to us and bring much goodness to the people of Israel and to the land of Israel, upon which God gazes from the beginning of the year until the end of the year.”
The workers responded with enthusiastic applause. Rav Kook again quieted them:
If our forefathers had stopped keeping the Sabbath, kashrus and the other commandments of the Torah a thousand years ago, would the Jews have had a revival? Would you have made aliyah to the land of Israel? No, the Jews would have been assimilated and disappeared, heaven forbid, amidst the nations. Only in the merit of our forefathers who kept the Torah could their children’s children—you—rise and carry out the wondrous acts that you are accomplishing today.
“Please, you young people, learn from all the good that is hidden in the world of the Jewish elders, and then the elders will learn from all the good and the energy hidden in your young world. And together we will place the crown back on its place, and we will build the land of Israel.”
His words inflamed the young people, and they again applauded.
“And now, Jews, let us dance a dance of teshuvah. And I am positive that whoever joins this circle dance will not leave this world without a full and total teshuvah.”
Even as he spoke, Rav Yosef Chaim Sonnenfeld left the group, closed his eyes and began to dance, as he sang in his sweet voice: “Purify our hearts to serve You, to serve You, to serve You, to serve You in truth.”
Rav Kook hastened to Rav Sonnenfeld, took his arm, and with closed eyes and concentrated feeling joined the dance. At this, as though it were a sign, everyone else, workers and rabbis, began to dance and sing a mighty, captivating song.
The dancing continued for a while. Then Rav Kook took his arm from the hand of Rav Sonnenfeld and slipped outside. Before anyone could notice that Rav Kook had left the circle of dancers, he came back dressed in a guard’s outfit, with a kafiyeh and ekal on his head and a rifle in his hand. Quickly, he entered middle of the circle and began to dance by himself. Everyone else stopped dancing and gazed in wonder at Rav Kook, as they encouraged him with rhythmic clapping.
Rav Kook sang with closed eyes, “By means of this, may great influence come, great influence, into all the worlds.” And while he continued to dance, he turned to the people and said: “Rabbi Aharon the Great of Karlin used to say that the value of dance is that when a person dances and jumps up, he is automatically elevated, if only a few inches above the ground. And when he is elevated above the ground, he sees things in a totally new light and from a different angle than he had seen while his two feet had been on the ground. Join the dance, brothers. From now on, let us see things differently. There is no old and no new. There is no hatred and no controversy. There are rabbis dressed like guards and there are guards who are fit to dress like rabbis.”
Toward morning, as the enthusiasm of the workers died down out of weariness, Rav Kook stood in the center of the circle and called out, “I am letting you know that I will not take off these guard’s clothes or put down the rifle until you promise me, all of you, as one person with one heart, to begin to honor the commandments of the Torah, to keep the Sabbath and kashrus.”
“We shall try,” the workers responded in a loud voice.
Rav Kook trembled, and collapsed onto a chair that Rav Sonnenfeld hurriedly brought him. There was white foam around his lips and his entire body was covered in sweat.
As Rav Yaakov Moshe Harlap bent over him worriedly, Rav Kook murmured, “Blessed be God Who has brought me to this.”
Lechishah Roemet
Two Excerpts from Likutei Harayah
Rabbi Aryeh Levin (subject of the biography, A Tzaddik in Our Time, used to say:
“Love of Israel—this is not an abstract matter. One must make it real with one’s actions, helping every Jew. It was possible to learn love of Israel from all the tzaddikim and gaonim that I knew—but that which I saw from Rav Kook was the greatest of all. He was prepared to give his life for the sake of every individual.”
And Rabbi Levin told:
I recall during the pogroms in Hebron (the Arab murder of approximately sixty Jews in 1929, when the British police refused to defend the Jews). The day of the great and terrible slaughter was on Shabbos, the eighteenth of Av. The next day, all telephone lines were cut off [in Jerusalem]. The [British] government only allowed Hadassah Hospital to receive telephone service. Terrible news came, but the heart refused to believe, for so great was the tragedy.
I accompanied Rav Kook to Hadassah Hospital. Rav Kook was allowed to telephone Hebron, and he began to hear exactly what had occurred there. I recall those terrible moments with trembling. They are carved in my heart. I see it as though it occurred today: hearing the details, the number of killed and injured, Rav Kook fainted and fell to the ground. When he was revived, he burst into bitter weeping, tore his garment in mourning, sat on the floor and made the blessing, “Blessed be the true Judge.”
In those moments, I saw what extent love of Israel can reach. Rav Kook had received the tragic news like a father who hears that he lost a son, like a brother who is stunned by the death of his brothers and sisters.
On Shabbos, the eighteenth of Av, Rav Kook contacted John Lock, the head secretary (who, since the highest British official was outside the country, was in charge) and demanded that he take strong measures against the rioting Arabs. “The Mandate government,” said Rav Kook, “has accepted upon itself the responsibility for order and security of life in the land, and it must fulfill its responsibility.”
The chief secretary excused himself that it wasn’t clear to him what should be done. Rav Kook replied, “You must give orders to shoot the murderers!”
The chief secretary replied, “I don’t have such orders from my superiors.”
“What?” replied Rav Kook sharply. “To save innocent citizens from the attacks of murders you need orders from your superiors? I give you the order. In the name of human conscience, I demand that you fulfill your obligation and defend the lives of the Jewish citizens in our land.”
Sometime later, Rav Kook was invited to a welcoming reception given at which John Lock was shaking the hands of all the guests. When he extended his hand to Rav Kook, Rav Kook didn’t take it but replied in an emotional, forceful voice, “I am not prepared to shake the hand that is responsible for the spilling of blood!”
Likutei Harayah, pp. 256-57
I Will Recall
by Simchah Raz
The Chief Rabbi of Haifa, Rabbi Shaar Yashuv Cohen (son of the Nazir, Rabbi Dovid Cohen), writes:
My first memory in connection with Rav Kook has to do with the time of the pogroms in Jerusalem and Hebron in Menachem Av 5689 (1929), when I was, in the rabbinical phrase, ‘a child who needs his mother.’
At that time, we lived in Jerusalem, in the area of Nachalat Achim and Shaarei Chesed. Out of fear of attack by the Arabs, the women and children were taken to a safe house in the center of the city. My father took me to the house of Rav Kook, which was in the center of Jerusalem, and there we stayed a few days.
That was when the pogroms in Hebron, with the terrible slaughter of the yeshiva students, took place—may God avenge their blood. Of course, as a small child, I did not understand exactly what was happening. But this I do recall: Rav Kook was very kind to me and played with me on his knees. That Sabbath drew to an end, with the Third Meal, and then the Evening Prayer and Havdalah. As was my way—the way of a child—I tried to make my way to Rav Kook. But I was unable to. His face was aflame and his wonderful eyes were filled with tears. He paced back and forth in his room with quick, firm steps. A moan broke from his throat, and words broke out with a cry: ‘Harninu goyim amo, ki dam avadav yikom, venekem yashiv letzarav vikiper admato amo—Let the tribes of His nation sing praise, for He will avenge His servants’ blood. He will bring vengeance upon His foes, and reconcile His people [to] His land [trans.—Aryeh Kaplan].’ He repeated this over and over as he strode, almost running, from wall to wall, without pause, as tears rolled onto his cheeks, for a very long time. All of us—my father, Rabbi Nathan Raanan (his son-in-law) and others—stood there stunned by this outburst of awe-inspiring emotion.
After a long while, Rav Kook’s righteous wife, Reiza-Rivka, entered and said apologetically: ‘Nu, melave malka, melave malka—the post-Sabbath meal.’ Rav Kook stopped and left the room and accompanied her to the inner rooms of the house, and we no longer saw him.
Only afterwards did what had been going on become clear. Rabbi Natan Raanan explained to me what had happened:
The terrible news from Hebron had arrived at Hadassah Hospital that Sabbath. Rav Kook learned of it in shock and he did all he could to save lives. During the Sabbath, he refrained from showing his feelings openly, in order to guard the sanctity of the Sabbath. But immediately after the Sabbath was over, waves of burning emotion burst forth from his heart, including his wrath at the murderers and those of the British Mandate Government who had stood by idle, including John Lock, the government Secretary (whose hand Rav Kook afterwards refused to shake, saying that it was covered in blood), and the police chief of Hebron, Kaparta [?], who had been directly responsible for withholding protection from the Jews of Hebron. And it was regarding them that he had recited the verse, ‘Harninu goyim amo....’
“This awesome sight of the pained wailing of Rav Kook, who had always shone me a bright face, and whom I now saw with a blacked, suffering countenance, I will never forget.”
from Malachim Kivnei Adam
And He Fell Back upon the Ground and Fainted
by Simcha Raz
The tzaddik, Rabbi Aryeh Levin, told:
“This will I recall with holy trembling: those moments that cause all the strands of my heart to quiver. This memory remains carved in my heart: how I accompanied Rav Kook on the nineteenth of Menachem Av 5689 (1929) to Hadassah Hospital to learn by telephone about the welfare of our brothers in Hebron. When he learned of the death of the supernal holy and pious ones, he fell back onto the ground and fainted. Afterwards, when he recovered, he wept bitterly and tore his clothes for the house of Israel and for the nation of God that had fallen by the sword. he rolled in the dust and said, ‘Blessed is the true Judge.’ And for a period of time after that, his bread was the bread of tears and his drink was tears as well, and he did not put a pillow to his head. From that time forward, old age overtook him and he began to feel terrible sufferings, and this caused the illness from which he did not recover.”
Rabbi Betzalel Julti (at one time the rabbi of Jerusalem) recalled:
“My teacher and rabbi, Rabbi Yechezkel Sarna, had of the yeshiva in Hebron, once told me: ‘Come and see to what extent Rav Kook’s love of Israel reached. When the students of the Yeshiva of Hebron were tragically murdered in the Hebron pogroms, I was one of the yeshiva’s heads, and I knew the students well. When the bitter news reached me, I was literally stunned. My heart contracted in pain and it was too great to bear—but with all that, I did not faint. But when Rav Kook heard what had happened in Hebron, he fainted and fell to the ground. His pain was deeper than mine and his shock was greater.”
Malachim Kivnei Adam
Messengers to Perform a Mitzvah
by Simcha Raz
Rachel Yaniat-Ben Tzvi told:
I recall that terrible Sabbath when the terrible news about the slaughter in Hebron arrived. My husband, Yitzchak ben Tzvi (who was then the chairman of the National Committee) rushed to Rav Kook in order to approach the senior British authority to intervene and save lives.
That was John Lock, who was living in the Mandate Government mansion next to Shechem Gate, which was surrounded by Arab rioters. And one could foresee danger to any Jew who would approach the place.
Rav Kook burst out, “Saving Jews, saving lives, takes precedence over the Sabbath.” And he told his shamash to summon a carriage from the street as he again murmured to himself, “Saving lives, saving lives.”
When Rav Kook’s elderly mother heard that he was ready to desecrate the Sabbath by traveling in a carriage, she was so shocked that she fainted. Rav Kook was stunned, and he said, “Honoring parents, honoring parents.” He had the carriage sent away, and he left the house together with Yitzchak ben Tzvi by foot, and they both walked to the mansion at Shechem Gate.
Malachim Kivnei Adam
Saving a Life Takes Precedence
by Simcha Raz
Rabbi Avraham Ben Ze’ev tells:
In 5689 (1929), at the time of the bloody events, I was approached by Rabbi Chaim Ternovsky, who was then one of the inhabitants of Emek Ha’arazim (next to Motza) with a request that I come with him to Rav Kook and propose that Rav Kook ask the British rulers to assign us British soldiers to accompany us to retrieve Torah scrolls that had survived the pogroms—one in Emek Ha’arazim and two in Motza.
I agreed. We came to Rav Kook and found him in his small room speaking on the telephone with members of the British government. His face was wan. At the end of the conversation, he turned to us. “What do you want, good Jews?”
Rabbi Chaim told him our request. Rav Kook asked: “Are there also Jews who must be rescued from danger?”
“No, there are no Jews there. But there is the danger that the Arabs will desecrate the holy Torah scrolls.”
“I am very sorry,” Rav Kook said, “but I cannot accede to your request. In these days, I am pressing the British government to save Jewish lives—who are, I am afraid, in danger—and the British do not agree easily. If I also approach them about this, it is possible that they will agree. But in turn, they might not help to save lives. And then I will be the cause of Jewish deaths, heaven forbid.”
And in a voice choked with sobs, Rav Kook continued, “Believe me. My heart is saddened about Torah scrolls that might be desecrated by murderers. However, the saving of Jewish lives takes precedence over everything else. And may God do what is right in His eyes.”
Malachim Kivnei Adam
LINED WITH LOVE
[Preceding the messianic era,] just before the “heels of the messiah,” the special quality of oneness within the [Jewish] people increases.
Good deeds, states of awareness and the divine light found within holy people affect the holiness of everyone more than at other times.
This special quality is concealed within the camouflage of contention and argument. But “its inner being is lined with love” (Song of Songs) and with a wondrous unity that awakens a general sense of anticipating the emancipation of the entire nation.
Arpelei Tohar, p. 108