CORGI jAMES A CNENE m HE BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF HAWAII,CENTENNiA AND CHESAPEAKE The Source 'It takes courage on the part of a novelist to write passionately about God. It is a further mark of his integrity if, as a believer, he acknowledges the barbaric cruelties that have often resulted from religious conviction. Mr Michener's handling of numerous characters ' his sincerity and depth of understanding- directed always on the spiritual battle at the heart of physical violence-are most impressive.' Daily Telegraph Also by James A. Mchener SAYONARA THE BRIME AT AMAU RASCALS IN PARADM TH]E FRM OF SPRIM HAWAH THE BRMES AT TOKO-RI TALES OF THIE SOUTH PACHIC RETURN TO PARADNE CARAVANS MERIA (IN TWO VOLUMES) THE DREnTRS THE QUALM OF LIM A MICBENER MISCELLANY CENTENNIAL M[CHMqER ON SPORT CHESAPEAKE and published by Coit Books James A. Michener TH FW CGRGI BOOKS - A DIVISION OFTRANSWORLD PUBLISHERS LTD I THE SOURCE A CORGI BOOK 0 552 11288 7 Originally published in Great Britain by Secker & Warburg Ltd. PRTNTING HISMRY Secker & Warburg edition published 1965 Corgi edition published 1966 Corgi edition reprinted 1967 Corgi edition reissued 1967 Corgi edition reissued 1971 Corgi edition reprinted 1972 Corgi edition reprinted 1973 Corgi edition reprinted 1974 Corgi edition reprinted 1975 Corgi edition reprinted 1976 Corgi edition reprinted 1977 Corgi edition reprinted 1978 Corgi edition reissued 1979 Corgi edition reprinted 1981 Copyright (0 1965 by Random House, Inc. Maps and diagrams by Jean-Paul Tremblay Conditions of sale 1: This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prio~ consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. 2. This book is sold subject to the Standard Conditions of Sale of Net Books and may not be re-sold in the U.K. below the net price fixed by the publishers for the booL This book is set in 9110pt. Monotype Times. Corgi Books are published by Transworld Publishers Ltd, Century House, 61-63 Uxbridge Road, Ealing, London, W5 5SA. Made and printed in Great Britain by Hunt Barnard Printing Ltd, Aylesbury, Bucks. ACKNOWLEDGmENTs The translations of Psalm 6 on page 311 and of Proverbs 31 on pages 478 are from Samuel Sandmel, The Hebrew Scriptures An Introduction to Their Literature and Religious Ideas (New York, Alfred A. Knopf, 1963). Psalm. 33 on page 310 was specially translated by Dr. Sandmel. The Psahns of Ascent on pages 328. 329 were translated for this book by scholars in Israel. Other Biblical quotations are from the King James Version, except the words of St. Paul on page 291, which are taken from 11 Timothy 4: 7-8 in the Revised Standard Version, and those passages from Deuteronomy specifically noted on pages 187-188, which are from The Torah, the Five Books of Moses. A new trans- lation of The Holy Scriptures according to the Masorefic Text (Philadelphia, The Jewish Publication Society of America, 1962). The response which appears on pages 941-942 has been adapted with permission from Rabbi Ephraim Oshry, Responsa from the Depths (Brooklyn, 1959). Archaeological drawings used throughout the book are the work of Ruth Ovadia, research scholar in the Department of Archaeology, Hebrew University, Jerusalem. Four of these drawings were adapted from illustrations in The Guide to Israel, by Zev Vilnay (Jerusalem, 1963). Certain Jewish documents are cited from C K. Barrett, The New Testament Background. Selected Documents (New York, Harper and Brothers, 1961). Direct quotations from the sayings of Rabbi Akiba have been adapted either from the tractate Pirke Abot of the Mishna or from the excellent life by Louis Finkelstein, Akiba, Saint, Scholar and Martyr (reprinted by arrangement with World Publishing Co., New York-A Meridian Book). Quotations from and references to the Pirke Abot tractate of the Mishna are taken pnncipally from Judah Goldin, The Living Talmud (New York, The New American Library, 1957). Quotations from and references to the Babylonian Talmud are taken principally from Leo Auerbach, 77ze Babylonian Talmud (New York, Philosophical Library, 1944). Quotations from and references to the Jerusalem Talmud are taken principally from Dagobert Runes, The Talmud ofJerusalem (New York, Philosophical Library, 1956). I Quotations from Malmonides have been for the most part adapted from Leon Roth, The Guide for the Perplexed: Moses Malmonides (London, Hutchinson's University Library, 1947). For the list which opens the second section of Level 111, 1 am indebted to Professor Cecil Roth of Jerusalem, who drew my attention to the fact that a list like this originally appeared in a little-known work, Wolfs Jews in the Canary Islands. Roth's version of this list appears in his History of the Marraws, by Cecil Roth (reprinted by arrangement with World Publishing Co., New York-A Meridian Book). Details of Judenstrasse life appearing in the third part of Level III are verified principally by Marvin Lowenthal, The Jews of Germany (New York, Longmans, Green, 1936). By permission of David McKay Co., Inc, CONTENTS The Tell The Bee Eater Of Death and Life An Old Man and His God Psahn of the Hoopoe Bird The Voice of Gomer In the Gymnasium King of the Jews Yigal and His Three Generals The Law A Day in the Life of a Desert Rider Volkmar The Fires of Ma Coeur The Saintly Men of Safed Twilight of an Empire Rebbe Itzik and the Sabra The Tell 11 83 117 165 231 317 357 403 433 481 571 611 667 723 827 881 965 This is a novel. Its characters and scenes are imaginary except as noted. The hero, Rabbi Akiba, was a real man who died as described in 137 C.E. All quotations ascribed to him can be verified. King David and Abishag, Herod the Great and his family, General Petronius, Emperor Vespasian, General Josephus and Dr. Mainionides were also real persons and quotations ascribed to the last are also verifiable. Akko, Zefat and Tiberias are existing places in the Galilee and descriptions of these towns are accurate, but Makor, its site, its history and its excavation are wholly imaginary. THE TELL EAST TO DAMASCUS WEST TO AKKO The tell of Makor at site 17072584 in western Galilee as seen by archaeologists on Sunday morning, May 3, 1964, while standing in the olive grove to the south. From the visual appearance of the tell nothing could be deduced as to its genesis, construction or history, except that the uni- formly smooth surface of the slope would suggest that at some time around the year 1700 B.c.E. it could have been paved with heavy stone blocks by Hyksos invaders moving against Egypt from the north; and the slight rise toward the eastern side of the tell might indicate that there had once, been a building of some size standing at that poinL KISSUIZ t9 MESS HALL TRENCH A, MOUNTAIN WMPSLOPE VERY 7E one cted ,]djsh I Turkish empire in his employ, one way or another, but the land was not yet his. By applying constant pressure and bribes whose number he had lost count of, Shmuel had advanced his case to a point where Emir Tewfik in Damascus was willing to sell the useless acres for the not exorbitant sum of nine hundred and eighty English pounds, but the baksheesh required to reach this 856 agreement already totaled more than seventeen hundred pounds And still the Turkish government would announce no decision. Yet Hacohen did not lose faith in Kaimakam Tabari, for in a curious manner the thieving Arab had demonstrated an unques- tioned friendship for the Russian Jew. One night, as Shinuel sat in his filthy room wondering whether or not to abandon Tubariyeh, he heard muffled footsteps on the cobblestones and intuitively checked to see that the places where he had hidden his money were secure. He had barely done so when his door burst open and eight Jews in fur caps, side curls and long coats rushed at him, pinioned his arms and dragged him off to a rabbinical court con- vened in the Ashkenazi section of town. It was a gloomy, portentous scene, with three rabbis waiting to judge the prisoner. In Yiddish the charges against Hacohen were read: "He is not a part of our community. He does not observe our laws strictly nor does he study at the synagogue. He has been heard speaking against Lipschitz, who knew him as a suspicious one in Vodzh, and he disturbs the district with his folly about land purchases and Jews working as farmers." As the preposterous phrases rolled forth Shmuel thought: The real charge they don't make. That I endanger their way of life. Then came the sentence, incredible for the year 1880, but made possible by the Turkish custom of allowing each religious com- munity to govern itself: "Shmuel Hacohen is to be fined to the amount of his possessions. He is to be stripped, stoned and banished from Tubariyeh, and may he leave Eretz Israel without further disturbing the ways of Judaism." Before Shmuel could protest, the first provisions of the sentence were carried out. Jewish men who had come to fear the little Russian who lived outside their narrow world laid hands on him and stripped away his clothing until he stood naked. Pockets in his tom garments were searched for money, which was handed to the court, after which he was hauled to a comer of the wall, where the general population began hurling rocks at him, not caring whether they blinded him or killed him, and he might have died except that one of the rabbinical judges interceded and the bleeding prisoner was dragged to the main gate of town and thrown outside the walls. The mob then proceeded. to his hovel, where they started digging up the floor to find any gold he might have hidden. It was at this point that Kaimakarn Tabari interfered. His gen- darmerie, hearing that a Jewish punishment was under way, had paid no attention, for this was a matter concerning one of the religious communities, and how they disciplined their people was not a governmental concern; but word of the unusually harsh 857 sentence reached Tabari: "Did you say Hacohen? The Jew from Russia?" When he knew that it was the little land buyer who was being stoned he summoned his guard and went to the town gate, where torches showed the naked and bleeding Jew wandering vainly outside the walls. "Take him home," Tabari ordered. "You, you and you, give him your clothes." When gendarmes reported that officers of the rabbinical court were wrecking Shmuel's hut, Tabari hurried there and said to the mob, "Go home, all of you." As Shmuel regained his mournful room he saw with gratitude that the searchers had not reached the money intended for the purchase of his land. He fell on his mattress, too bewildered to cry. The sentence of the court had been so unexpected, the punish- ment so harsh, that he was content to have escaped with his life, and as for the kaimakam's intervention, this Shmuel could not explain, but as he wiped his sores with a dirty cloth he asked him. self: Did he keep me alive only so that he could rob me of what I have left? The thought was unworthy, for Shmuel could remem. ber that as he had stood naked outside the walls the torches had shown him the kaimakam's face, and it was that of a man who could not tolerate such punishments. If in the forthcoming months Tabari stole all of Hacohen's savings, this would not alter the fact that tonight he had acted as one human being to- ward another. Why had he done so? Shmuel fell asleep before he found an answer, but Faraj Tabari, sitting alone in his room over. looking the mosque, asked himself the same question and replied: He was little and he had a swayed back, but he looked like my brother-in-law, so I had to save him. And for the first time the kaimakam expressed the hope that his brother-in-law might soon visit Tubariyeh to explain which of the new ideas could be put into practice here. The next days Shmuel would not remember. In a daze of pain from the stoning by which Eretz Israel had rejected him, its mountains falling upon him in his nightmares, he lay upon his rinattress while insects came to inspect his wounds. Each of the Jewish communities left him alone, the superstitious Sephardim viewing him as a curse and the vengeful Ashkenazini hoping that he would die. By tradition Arabs did not come into the quarter where he lay, so his fever and nightmare were allowed to run their course and for two days of delirium Shmuel imagined that he was back in Vodzh, through whose cool lanes he went seeking timber. When he recovered, unaided by anyone, he went into the alley to buy food, but the stares he met from the Jews were so hateful 858 that he retreated to his hovel more wounded than he had been by the rocks. Was he wrong? Was it impossible to bring European Jews to this district and with them to build a new way of life, independent of charity? Weak though he was, he said to himself: It can be done! And he went back into the streets of Tubariyeh determined to resist his tormentors, but when he saw the bearded faces staring at him, waiting till they could catch him away from the kaimakam's protection, he returned to his hovel and whis- pered, "God of Moses, I can accomplish nothing in this evil town." And he prepared to flee. From the earthen floor he dug up his money, and in the ill- fitting clothes which the kaimakarn had forced his tormentors to give him he slipped out of town. Children saw him going and ran to tell their fathers, who left their studies to taunt the fugitive as he headed toward the north. At Safad he found conditions even more repellent than in Tubariyeh: old, suspicious Jews huddled over their Talmuds while young men took to robbery; the spiritual glory of the hilltop town was not even remembered. He left it behind and climbed over the hills that lay to the west, and what he found there saved him for the work he was destined to accomplish, for one evening as he wandered across a barren hillock, where he knew that trees must once have flourished, he came upon a little settlement that changed his perspective on what Jews could do in Israel. It was Peqiin, at first sight merely another mountain village with narrow paths clustering about a central well and a synagogue hidden in a distant quarter, but when Shmuel came to know the place better he found it had distinguishing characteristics. For on thing, the Jews of Peqiin did not stay in their synagogue readin Talmud, for they were so remote from centers like Safad an Tubariyeh that no European charity reached them; they gr crops or they starved, and Shmuel found their fields in excellen condition. Nor did the Jews of Peqiin hide behind a wall, lest th Bedouins attack; they lived in the open and set men with rifle to guard the mountain passes. Four times in the 1870s Bedouin had thought to ravage the settlement and had retreated with the dead. The Jews here were a sturdy lot and for many weeks Hac hen found refuge with them, working in their fields and repairin the lacerations of his mind. But the principal quality of the village he did not discover ti late. It was a long evening in spring, when grape arbors we showing promise of a good crop, and as he sat gossiping in t village square he remarked, "Jacob, you've never told me whe you came from." 859 --From Peqiin," the farmer said. 'I mean your parents. What part of Europe?" ,:From Peqiin," the man repeated. "No. I mean Russia? Poland? Lithuania?" "I'm from Peqiin. Aaron's the same. And Absalom." A look of astonishment came over Hacohen's face, for he had never met Jews who were not from some place abroad. "Egypt or Spain?" he asked. "We're Jews," Aaron said. "Our families never left this land." "But during the Diaspora?" "The sons of Jacob went down into Egypt," the Peqiin farmers explained, "but we didn't. Nehemiah and Ezra lived in Babylonia, but not us.'9 "Where did you go when the Romans drove us out?" "We didn't go." He could not believe that hidden in these hills the people of Peqiin had never fled: it was unreasonable, yet in persistent ques- tioning he could find no Jew who remembered Russia, none who had returned with memories of Baghdad. These were Jews whose families had lived here for four thousand years, and the subservii- ent habits of exile they had not acquired. One evening in July, when the men he was working with were at dinner, he walked upon the hills that had always known Jews, and as he did so the giant steps of the Vodzher Rebbe seemed to be striding along be- side him: the huge and ghostly rebbe broke into a dance and once more gathered Shmuel to his arms. "You are the child of God, the son of Abraham," the rebbe said. He kissed Hacohen the man as he had once kissed Kagan the boy, and cried to the hills, "You will gain your land, Shmuel, but in it you will find death." With the rebbe's words ringing in his ears, Hacohen went in and said good night to the Jews of Peqiin. "I must go back to Tubariyeh," he said. "But why? If they stoned you?" "To buy land." "You can buy land here, Shmuel." They recognized him as a worker and wanted him to stay with them. "My land is beside the lake," he said, and when he reached Tubariyeh he found his hovel occupied by chickens. Chasing them away and turning his mattress over so that their manure would fall to earth, he dug a fresh hole at the head of the mattress and there he hid his English pounds, while at the foot he buried the gold coin. As soon as this was done he began applying pressure on the kaimakam, nor would he stop until he had bought his land where the RiverJordan left the lake and vineyards could beplanted. 860 It was with the memory of these lonely and frustrating years, plus the present knowledge that the Jews from Vodzh were already in Akka, that Shmuel began his march on this hot after- noon to face the kaimakarn in a final effort to buy the land. As he walked through the streets where Jews ignored him, he was not an impressive figure. Even when wearing his tarboosh he was only five feet four inches tall, and his borrowed clothes hung awk- wardly. His pants were too short and his shoes creaked from their country tramping. He was still a sway-back, so that his belly moved ahead of him down the alleys, and he walked with his left shoulder forward as if he were trying to edge his way through life. He smelled of the evil room in which he was forced to live and he had suffered so many disappointments that he was beginning to look like the furtive Jews who scuttled through back alleys in cities like Kiev and Gretz; but these appearances were only out- ward, for his mind had found a kind of peace: at Peqiin, Jews had proved they could live on the land and could make it prosper. Bedouin raiders could be kept off with guns, and he marched through Tubariyeh determined to come away from this final meeting as the owner of land. The kaimakam, who had hoped to postpone seeing Shmuel until he had perfected his plan for mulcting him of additional bak- sheesh, now that the firman had been promulgated, disarmed Hacohen by meeting him at the door of his office as if he were a friend and asking pleasantly, "Why do you come out on a day as hot as this?" "Did the firman arrive from Istanbul?" "Not yet, Shmuel," Tabari lied. Then, seeing Hacohen's shiver of despair, he added, "These things take time, Shmuel. There's the mutasarrif in Akka, and the wali . . ." "I know!" Hacoheu snapped, almost losing his temper. "Excuse me, Excellency. I've had disturbing news from Akka." Kaimakam. Tabari became suspicious, reasoning to himself: I know the Jews have arrived, but Hacohen doesn't know I know. So why does he tell me something that makes his position weaker? He must be doing it for a reason. Probably plans to throw himself on my mercy. To Shmuel he said, "Now what could possibly happen in Akka that would be bad news? You know the mutasarrifs on your side." "The Jews who are buying the land ... they've landed." When Shinuel said this the kaimakam allowed his face to form a scowl. "They have? This is serious, Shmuel." He waited to see what approach the Jew wouHe had guessed right. Without replying Hacohen reached into 961 his coat pocket and produced a roll of bills. Pushing them to Tabari he said, "Nine hundred and eighty pounds. For Eirdr Tewfik in Damascus." The kaimakarn did not touch the money, but watched carefully as his visitor continued to unload his right pants pocket. Out came a few paltry coins, some foreign bills the kind of bribe a desperate man would offer for the recove of a horse. Tabari waited. "Excellency, this is every piaster I have in the world. Take it, but let me have the land." I "This is a grave thing you suggest," Tabari replied. "You want me to authorize the Jews to settle on the land before we hear from Istanbul. If I did that I could lose my job, my reputation." He paused to let Shinuel study the matter, then added softly, "If we could wait a few months. . ." Again Hacohen pushed the money at the kaimakam and said with passion, "If they come here and find they've been cheated they'll kill me." Kaimakam Tabari leaned back and laughed in a consoling manner. "Shmuel, Jews don't kill other Jews! They might abuse you or ostracize you, but even that other night they didn't kill you." He felt sure that Hacohen controlled more money, some- where, and he intended getting it. He stood up and moved a chair closer to his desk. "Sit down, Shmuel." This gesture astonished Hacohen. Never during his four years in Tubariyeh had he been allowed to sit in a kaimakam's pres- ence and he became doubly cautious. Tabari was saying, "I've been meaning to ask you for some time, Shinuel. What about the Bedouins? The raids? That is, supposing your people do get their land." The kaimakarn caught himself. "I mean, supposing we can work something out." Hacohen tried not to betray his feelings. The firman from Istan- bul had arrived! He knew it from the way the kaimakarn was act- ing. The Jews were going to get their land! He deduced what had happened. The messenger who had brought him news of the landings in Akka had at the same time brought Kaimakam Tabari the firman. Speaking very slowly, because he could not guess what Tabari would propose next, Shinuel said, "At Peqiin I discovered how to handle the Bedouins. First you offer to buy their friendship. And if you fail, you take a gun and fight." "Fight?" the an-dable kaimakarn laughed. "Shinuel, your bunch of pale scholars? Fight men of the desert?" "There's nothing else we can do, Excellency. In Europe, in Spain, we didn't fight and we were burned alive. Here at Tubafi- yeh we'll fight. But I don't think we'll have to." He thought of 862 the resolute farmers in Peqiin; for three years there had been no attacks. The kaimakarn smiled indulgently and asked, "I suppose the newcomers are all Ashkenazim?" With his fingers he drew curls down his cheeks. "They don't seem like fighters to me." "You've seen only one kind of Ashkenazi, Excellency." "I'd be pleased to meet some other kind," the kaimakarn joked. "The Ashkenazirn we see here in Tubariyeh ... Mean, little-minded. Now the Sephardim, on the other hand . . ." Hacohen had no intention of allowing Tabari to sidetrack the main issue. Istanbul had granted the Jews their land and its trans- fer must not be delayed. He tried to bring the discussion back to that point, but Tabari rambled on: "I've always preferred the Sephardim." Hacohen thought: Regardless of what the kaimakam thinks he sees here in Tubariyeh, the future of the Jew lies with the Ash- kenazim. It'll be the hard, dedicated men with German educa- tions and Russian determination who'll determine the future. Let my friends in Akka get hold of their land, and we'll see. To the kaimakam he said quietly, "The Sephardim are more pleasant to know." "Yest" Tabari agreed. "In Tubariyeh every Jew I respect is a Sephardi." He corrected himself. "Everyone but you, Shmuel." There followed an awkward silence, for obviously the kaima- kam was leading to something, but what it was Hacohen could not guess. He waited, and Tabari added, "So what with the new- comers all being Ashkenazim, whom I don't like anyway, why should I risk my position?" "It's all the money I have," Hacohen insisted stubbornly. Kaimakam Tabari looked hurt. "I didn't want more money from you, Shmuel. It's just that we have to have more funds from somewhere to buy the right judgment in Istanbul." It was a moment of hard decision. Shinuel could feel the gold coin pressing against his leg and he was tempted to bang it onto the table as a last wild gesture; but he had learned in these matters to trust his intuitive judgment, and this reassured him that the fir- man was already in Tubariyeh and that he need only be insistent. He therefore held back the coin and waited. Finally Tabari spoke. "So what I thought was"-there was the horrible phrase again---~'that if you could give me the names of the leaders of your group now in Akka, when I go there tomorrow I can see them and explain the gravity of the situation . . ." From a cesspool of disgust Shmuel Hacohen looked at the kaimakam, and each man was aware of what the other was 863 9 U t thiriking. The Jew thought: He'll go to the ship with an inter. preter, some tough from the Akka waterfront, and they'll confuse and bully the immigrants. The Jews will think he's threatenin their land and they'll surrender every kopeck they have. The bastard. The bastard. But Hacohen was wrong about what the kaimakam was think. ing, for Tabari was saying to himself: This bewildered Jew. He thinks I'm doing this merely to tantalize him. Extortion. He doesn't realize that right now I'm being the best friend he ever had. I'd better show him. "You won't give me the names?" he snapped. "Find them yourself. Steal from the immigrants in your own way.,, "Stupid!" the kaimakam. cried. With anger he took from his desk the firman and slammed it on the table. "Read that, yo stubbom Jew." " I can speak Turkish. I can't read it." "Do you trust me to read it?" Tabari read the first part and watched Hacohen's face start to break with tears of joy. Then he read the harsh final proviso about keeping the Jews from water and he saw dismay take the place of joy. "Without water the land is nothing!" Hac6hen protested. "Obviously. That'swhy I must have extra money." Hacohen thought: It's a lie. It's a lie. He wants the money for himself. Then he heard the kaimakarn. saying easily, "The fact is I suspect the sultan had nothing to do with that last clause. Some friend of mine tacked it on to help me out." :'What do you mean?" 'So that I could do just what I'm doing now. Get a little more money for myself. . . and give him half." The duplicity of what Tabari was saying was too much for Hacohen to absorb. In Russia government officials were cruel. But a -an grew to understand them. In Turkish lands ... His anxiety was too great and he started to laugh. The kaimakam joined him and explained jokingly, "So our position is this, Shmuel. I want you Jews to have your land, and the water too. suppose the sultan feels the same way. But in view of that las clause I mu t interrogate Istanbul, and that takes . "Money?" "A lot of money. More than you have left. Now, ma~ I have the names?" Feeling morally depleted by developments two and three times more devious than he could follow, Shmuel Hacohen took the kaimakam's pen and wrote down the names of the Vodzher Jews 864 who could be depended upon to get the money together, if they had an)f. As he penned their names the faces of bas fitends came before him: Mendel of Berdichev, with beard and fur cap; Solomon of Vodzh, an outspoken man; Jozadak of the next village, a fighter and a man who hated rabbis. As he finished re- calling the names he dropped his head on the desk and wept. Kaimakain Tabari appreciated the anxiety under which Shmuel had been working and he left him alone for some moments. Then he reached out and touched Shmuel on the shoulder, asking, "What good would the land be without water?" "I wasn't weeping for them," Shmuel replied. "I was thinking of those who are dead and will not see the land." Then began a curious negotiation, an exchange that neither Kaimakarn Tabari nor Shmuel Hacohen would ever forget. Tabari was convinced that the tough little Jew had more money somewhere, reserved for an emergency, and he suspected that after the land was secured he would not see Hacohen again; one of his most fruitful sources of baksheesh would thus dry up, and he hated to see anyone come into his office with money and escape. So on the spur of the moment, without really thinking, he did the thing that he would never afterward forget. He said, "By the way, Shmuel, I have something in the other room you might like to see." "What?" "Come, look." And the portly governor throw open a door and led Hacohen to a shelf on which stood a row of twenty-two tall books bound in leather and stamped in gold. Hacohen recognized them as a fine Lithuanian printing of the Talmud, for he had seen such books in Berdichev while collecting money for the land purchase; and when Tabari handed him a volume to inspect he opened the pages reverently and before him stood the glorious, singing Hebrew that his father had wanted him to study. "What I'd like to know," Tabari was saying, "is why this book has such an effect on Jews?" Shmuel looked at the large pages-more than twenty inches tall and nearly fourteen wide. This was a book unlike those that a Muslim or a Christian would know, for each page was a separate work in itself, composed of six or eight distinct kinds of type I Vs-` varying in size from very large to very small. The organization was unbelievable: in the center of the page would appear in bold type a short phrase, surrounded on all sides by blocks of different- sized type explaining and elaborating what the central phrase intended. Down margins would appear columns only three quarters of an inch wide, printed in minute letters. It was a Ts-55 865 jumble, a confusion, a thing ofbeauty, and no two pages were alike. "What does it mean?" Tabari asked. "Well, this bold sentence in the middle is an opinion handed down by the great Rabbi Akiba." "Who was he?" Tabari asked. "A rabbi. He's buried here in Tubariyeh." Taban studied Akiba's material, then pointed to one of the surrounding blocks of type. "What's this one?" "A judgment of Rabbi Meir, who came later. He's also buried in Tubariyeh." "And this big block over there?" "Greatest of them all. Maimonides of Egypt." He studied the beautiful, complicated page and said, "Excellency, you've chosen a page most appropriate to Tubariyeh, for Maimonides is also buried here." Then, to his dismay, he realized that Kaimakam Tabari wasn't taking his discourse on the Talmud seriously, had not even wanted to know what the great Jewish book was about. Tabari had much earthier ideas in mind and in pursuit of them he slammed the big book closed and stared directly at his little guest. "Shmuel, will you have a synagogue in your new settiernentr "Yes. "Well, wouldn't a set of the Talmud like this ... real leather. Wouldn't that be a great thing to give the new synagogue?" At first Hacohen thought that Tabari, in gratitude for the bak- sheesh he would extract from the Jews, was proposing to give the newcomers this expensive gift of books, and the little Jew almost made an ass of himself. He started to express his gratitude, then caught himself: My God! He expects me to buy them. Tabari, quick to notice changes in the faces of people who came to consult him, caught the incipient smile and underwent the same degree of shock: My God! I do believe the little Jew thought I was giving him the books. It was Tabari who spoke first. "So I thought that if you had- well --- even a little extra money . . ." The rest of the things Hacohen said that hot evening he could not later recall, for it was not he but some power greater that spoke through his voice. "Where did you get the Talmud?" he asked coldly. "There was an, old rabbi with some papers that had to be signed ... in Beirut." "Did he offer you that Talmud? For some papers?" "They were exceedingly significant papers ... involving his whole community." 866 "But did he offer you his Talmud?" In some strange way it was now Shmuel Hacohen's office. It was he who was posing the questions. "Wed ... it wouldn't be exact to say that he offered the books." "You asked him what he had of value?" "I expected him to come with money ... gold pieces. When he arrived with only books "You took them?" "It was a matter of vital significance," Tabari insisted. Shmuel could not speak. He opened one of the volumes and studied the title page: Wilho, 1732. He wondered what dreadful pressure had been put on the old rabbi to make him surrender these volumes. Jews had died for these books, had been burned at the stake, had seen their children and their sisters killed. What had the old man wanted for his people so desperately that he would divorce himself from his own conscience? To the kaimakam he said, quietly, "These are rare books, Excellency." "I thought they were." "And you'd like to convert them into cash?" "Of course. I know you said you had no more gold. But a man always keeps a little back." Without argument Shmuel Hacohen took from his left pocket the precious coin. Ceremoniously he placed it on the table where the kaimakarn could see it. "I don't know what it's worth, Excel- lency, but it's yours. Maimonides has said, 'If a man build a synagogue let him build it finer than the house in which he dwells.' I shall Eve with rats and lice a little longer. But the syna- gogue . . ." He looked at Tabari as if to ask: What kind of man would steal the holy book of another, then try to sell it back for profit ? Shmuel started piling the massive volumes onto his arms, but Tabari, seeing the impracticability of this, summoned his Egypt- ian servant. Hacohen pushed the man aside and at last balanced the twenty-two volumes on his forearms and left the room. The kaimakam hurried ahead to open his office door for the burdened man, and for a long moment the two stared at each other, the moral gap between them so tremendous that no comprehension could bridge it. As he walked through the hot night Shmuel kept repeating the words of Moses his Teacher: "And what nation is there so great, that hath statutes and judgments so righteous as all this law, which I set before you this day?" 867 THE TELL For Cullinane the problem of the Jews' moral right to Israel was simple. It was a question of custodianship. When Herod was kin& the Galilee held a population of more than half a million; in Byzantine times, more than a million. But at the end of Arab, Crusader and Turkish rule the same land supported less than sixty thousand, a visible loss of sixteen out of every seventeen persons. From what he could now see about him, Cullinane guessed that in another twenty years of restored Jewish control the rebuilt soil would again maintain its million people. This was the staggering, incontrovertible fact: the other cus. todians had allowed the once sweet land to deteriorate, the wells to fall in and the forests to vanish; the Jews had brought the land back to productivity. He could not avoid wondering whether such creative use did not confer a moral right to possess the land, previous negligence having forfeited such right. The more Cul- linane asked himself this question, the more he realized that he was basing an entire moral structure on land alone, and this was not logical. Yet one by one he had to discard alternatives. Israel's religious claim he dismissed without much consideration. Israelis, as Jews, had no more claim to a free Israel than Quebec's misguided Frenchmen had a right to a separatist state merely because they happened to be Catholics. "One hell of a lot more goes into the making of a viable state," Cullinane assured himself, "than religion," and he said this even though he, as a Catholic, sympa- thized with his co-religionists in Canada who felt that they were being discriminated against. To establish a state wholly on religi- ous foundations led to historical perplexities like Jinnah's Pakistan or the problems involving northern Ireland. As an Irishma men, but they had vanished and it was the conciliatory, some- times awkward God of the Jews Who not only persisted but Who also vitalized two derivative religions. And God exercised His i power through the law. it was no mean thing to be a Jew and the custodian of God's law; for if His law was exacting it was also ennobling. It deman- 1031 ded respect if not blind obedience. There could be no larger task, Eliav thought, than devising procedures whereby the Jews of Israel and their more numerous cousins in America could share this vital law and the responsibility for keeping it vital. He recalled a cynical joke: "The function of the American Jew is to send money to a German Jew in Jerusalem, who forwards it to a Polish Jew in the Negev, who makes it possible for the Spanish Jew in Morocco to come to Israel." There was more to it than that. On the day he left, John Cullinane had asked in his easy Irish manner, "Ilan, why do you Jews make life so difficult for your- selves?" At the time Eliav had thought of no reply, but now, having lost Vered for a Jewish reason and having been projected into the heart of Jewish responsibility, he understood: Life isn't meant to be easy, it's meant to be life. And no religion defended so tenaciously the ordinary dignity of living. Judaism stressed neither an after-Iffe, an after-punishment, nor heaven; what was worthy and good was here, on this day, in Zefat. We seek God so earnestly, Eliav reflected, not to find Him but to discover our- selves. From where he stood at that moment he could see the spot in Tiberias where he blew up the English lorry, the streets of Zefat in which he had used his machine gun, and he vowed that violence was behind him; he would try to be the kind of Jew that Akiba had been, a'peasant who had passed the age of forty before leaming how to read, a self-taught man who had become the legal master of his day, a man who at seventy launched a whole new way of life and who, when the Romans finally executed him by tearing away his flesh with hot pincers-a man ninety-five years old and perhaps not legally a Jew, for it was believed that he descended from Sisera, that lascivious general whom Jael had slain with a tent pin-proved himself so dedicated to God that when the Roman soldiers gripped the flesh near his heart, he forced himself to stay alive until he could finish his defiant cry, "Hear, 0 Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one," to die on the long, wailing pronunciation of the word "one." 1032 i CASP E P Voft -.010 ....................................Od THE LOCA - Showing the principal places referred to in the narrative. .% AmbowfoSM *a 9. Ap."Mur FINI rchemM Akk ... :'Ut. S' F A ic Pdi- 401 Aq k At All tq N LEBANO THE GALILEE 1964 CR q J% KlBBUTZx -.ACRE : - .: I V NN a . 14ORMS OF H1 . Mbesin . :-!t .,Aki Z~, A Cr7of Carmel, A.Shunem rmellift A ia, '0 R D A N rl*q .a. 0 552 11244 5 - L2.50 HAWAII by JAMES A. MICHENER THE DRWMS by JAMES A. MICHENER The Drifters are three girls and three young men, all under the age of 20. Three of them are American: Joe, a draft dodger, Cato, a black man on the run, and Gretchen, a girl from Boston who has defied her family. Then there is Britta, a Norwegian in flight from her home in the far north, Monica, daughter of a British administrator in black Africa, and Yigal, escaping from the dilemma of mixed American and Israeli parentage. They are watched over by an older man whom they accept as friend but not as mentor. He sym- pathises with them even if he cannot understand them, dimly recognising the future may lie in their hands.... MELAND: A URIS URRIBLE BFAM by JXL and LEON Ireland is too vast and complex in its Story f Pre"teernistecaotmaptrteehmenptsi'nvely 'a less than a decade. We people to co' g to. What we do made no historical) and have is a social, to be the guts of pthoelitical commentary 01, what we consider but sorrowed island matter ofa unique People and their lovely that have plagued Ireland for the fatterpart ofa millenium. This i'our Point of view oil the'troubless Yo~ Might call it a love long. For those among them who have It to give, and they are friendship and kindness lavished more freely on The thought Of these People w the vast majority, nowhere are the stranger. warm us for all our years. Jill and Leon Ur;s Only James Michener could have written this vast, histo6> ally important, enormously entertaining novel. This is Hawaii, in all its beauty, splendour and exotic mystery. These are the men and women who loved it, from the first, Polynesians to the Japanese who fought in the Niseii battalions in World War U. In HAWAR, yoWU meet characters you'll never forget - Amelia Whipple, the missionary; the sea captain who founded a dynasty of sugar barons; the Chinese concubine - who became a great banker; the gigolo beach boy who might t have been king, and hundreds - literally hundreds - morel 0 552 11006 X - E3.95 0 552 98013 7 - fA.50 TrE ANGRy WLS by LEON UR_JS Whekhe combined Greek and British defences crumbled in 1941, -~ke Morrison's personal of Greek war with the Nazi invaders overnie ,gan. Carrying vital espi age papers, he became 'o of head0unted man. He learned terror in the nightma blazing un6ght, raging hatred at the sight 0 re bravery of a'Wman incendiaries, and c f Villages d loyal, Peasant gi ,-ourage from the wiolence an k girl. is a true liter]arY71, Cruelty and fierce pas s'on ... Ur's tener of tales.' dant Of Jack London - a vigorous 0 552 (8521 9 - fl. San Francisco Bulletin THE DRUTERS by JAMES A. MICHENER UELAND: A de the URIS TERMLE BEAM by JILL and LEON The Drifters are three girls and three young men, all un r age of 20. Three of them are American: Joe, a draft dodger, Cato, a black man on the run, and Gretchen, a girl from Boston who has defied her family. Then there is Britta, a Norwegian in flight from her home in the far north, Monica, daughter of a British administrator in black Africa, and Yigal, escaping from the dilemma of mixed American and Israeli parentage. They are watched over by an older man whom they accept as friend but not as mentor. He sym- pathises with them even if he cannot understand them, dimly recognising the future may lie in their hands. . . . 0 552 11244 5 - E2.50 I HAWAII by JAMES A. MICHENER Only James Michener could have written this vast, historic, ally important, enormously entertaining novel. This is Hawaii, in all its beauty, splendour and exotic mystery. These are the men and women who loved it, from the first Polynesians to the Japanese who fought in the Nisei! battalions in World War U. In HAWAII, you'll meet characters you'll never forget - Amelia Whipple, the missionary; the sea captain who founded a dynasty of sugar barons; the Chinese concubine who became a great banker; the gigolo beach boy who might t have been king, and hundreds - literally hundreds - more! 0 552 11006 X - E3.95 From the Preface~ Ireland is too vast cover it comprehenand complex 'a its story for two people I to sively in less than I decade. We made no Pretense at attempting to. historical, an V6at we do have is a soci be the guts d political sider of the matter ofa unique People and their lovely bu to t sorrowed island, commentary on what we co that have PlaThl"'s our Point of vie gued Ireland for the fatter partw on the'troubl& 'You might call it a love ,Ong. For ofamiflenium. have it to give, and they are the va those among them who ffiendship and kindness I -st majOritY, nowhere are avished more freely on the stranger The thought Of these people win warm us for all our years. - Jill and Leon Uns 0 552 98013 7 - FA.50 T'%.ANGRY HILLS by LEON URI Whe~.he combined Greek and British defences crumbled in 1941 ' 1-~e A4orrison,s Personal of GrM war with the Nazi invaders overnigjp ,fan. Carrying vital espionage papers, he became, blazing u- ~Unted man. He learned of headjonaght, raging hatred at the sight of villages bravery of ~'Prlnan incendiaries, terror in the nightmare loyal peasant girl. and courage from the 'Violence and , is a true literal'Y"l, Cruelty and fierce passion ... Ujis teller of tales-' dant Of lack London ... a vigorous 0 552 (8521 9 - f"' Son Francisco Bulletin A SELECIED LIST OF FINE N OVEIS'"A IN CORGI PRINT WHILE EVERY EFFORT IS MADE TO K PRICES LOW,-rr IS SOMETIMES NECESSARY TO INCREASE PRICES AT SHORT NOTICE. CORGI BOOKS RESERVE THE RIGHT TO SHOW AND CHARGE NEW RETAIL PRICES ON COVERS WHICH MAY DIFFER FROM THOSE ADVERTISED IN THE TEXT OR ELSEWHEIM THE PRICES SHOWN BELOW WERE CORRECT AT TM TIME OF GOING TO PRESS (JUNE '81) 0114952 THE DEVIL'S ALTERNATIVE Frederick Forsyth fl.75 [3 11497 9 T14E DAY OF THE JACKAL Frederick Forsyth LIM 0114987 THE ODESSA FILE Frederick Forsyth LIM 0114995 THE DOGS OF WAR Firederick Forsyth fl.71 0110035 CENTENNIAL James A. Michener LIM 13112445 THE DRIFTERS James A. Michener L2.5( [1113204 CHESAPEAKE James A. Michener 92.5( 13 11006 X HAWAII lames A. Michener 0.9! 13110078 TALES OF THE SOUTH PACIFIC James A. Michener fl.91 13110167 RETURN TO PARADISE James A. Michener LU 13107360 CARAVANS James A. Michener E1.2 0112704 SAYONARA James A. Michener fl.5 13110094 TIM FIRES OF SPRING James A. Michener ;EV 0114154 MICHENER MISCELLANY James A. Michener LU 0 11416 2 THE QUALJTY OF LJFE James A. Michener EV 13110096 RASCALS IN PARADISE James A. Michener and A. Grove Day V.: El 08866 8 QB VII Leon Uris EU 0080918 TOPAZ Leon Uris 91.1 [3 08384 4 EXODUS Leon Uris f2.' 0083852 M1LA 18 Leon Uris ill 13083895 ARMAGEDDON Leon Uris f~ [3 085219 TRE ANGRY HILLS Leon 0105651 TRINITY 'on All these books are avallable at your bookshop or newsagent, or can be orderedd tfrm thepubusher. just tick the titksyou want and./illin theJorm below. 1~r CORGI BOOKS, Cash Sala Departinent, P.O. Box 11. Fahnouth, C--?'A Please send cheque or postal order, no currencY Pleaw allow cost ofbook-(s) plus the following for postage and sod 13p for w4 U.K. CUSTOMERS. 40p for the first book, l8p for the seconyd additional book ordered, to a maximusucharee ofiel.49. d book B.F.P.O. & FIR . Please allow 40p for the first book, l8p 360011 plu 13p percopy for the next three books, thereafter7pper OVERSEAS CUSTOMER& Please allow 60p for plus lop per -0 far each additional book. air M HE JAMESA CNENER "A monumental and imaginative novel told with remarkable erudition a moving human cletail""d -$ATURD Y EVIEW- "Michener's hand numerous charactf sincerity and del: understanding most impressi~ - DAILY TELEGR