Brothers Emanuel by Ezekiel J. Emanuel

Author:Ezekiel J. Emanuel [Emanuel, Ezekiel J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Non-Fiction, Biography, Politics, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9781400069033
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2013-03-26T00:00:00+00:00

Victor’s death was a sharp reminder of Israel’s status as a new and endangered country where conflicts over land and power were very real and everyone had a personal stake in both history and current events. Indeed, everywhere you went, and almost every time you opened your mouth, there was a chance that you would stumble upon an issue, person, or place that reverberated with political significance. History lay in every square inch of the Israeli soil.

For example, you only have to mention the King David Hotel to open a door to emotions ranging from pride to shame and from resignation to condemnation. The symbolism of the grand hotel that overlooks the Old City of Jerusalem looms large in the history of Israel. This is how it is in that country. The woman sitting across from you on the bus was a courier who carried secrets around the world. The family friend sitting beside you on a veranda was part of a team that bombed the King David Hotel and killed ninety-one people.

Born in Turkey but raised in Israel when it was part of the British Mandate of Palestine, Yoel Carmi was married to my father’s childhood classmate and close friend Batya. With a big, round chest and full head of dark hair, he looked strong and full of life. But he also had developed a potbelly that spoke of his increasing comfort. Usually it was hard to get him to speak seriously for very long. His habit was to joke around, and play at switching from accent to accent. One second he would ask a question in the Queen’s English. In the next he would answer in southern American drawl. Then it was on to Cockney or an Australian accent. His attitudes were as varied as his comic routines. Politically, he was rabidly right-wing and anti-Arab. But he also had a deep and warm appreciation for every culture in the world and almost everyone he met. This contradiction was evident in the bomb shelter he built at his house to withstand a poison gas attack. It was crammed with freeze-dried rations but every wall was lined with bookshelves carrying all the great Western classics of philosophy, literature, and history, from Plato to Bellow.

Yoel claimed to speak ten languages and I believe he did, because he did not need to exaggerate. His strengths and talents were obvious to anyone who met him and he was brutally honest and direct whenever he talked about his own life and the life of Israel. He was a Zionist with such firm convictions that he had no doubts about participating in one of the most controversial attacks ever, carried out by the Jewish underground paramilitary called the Irgun.

The year was 1946, Yoel recalled while sipping tea next to me and my mom on the King David veranda. The British—who controlled what is now Israel—were doing little to stop Arab attacks on Israeli civilians. At the same time, hundreds of Jews were rounded up and thrown in jail on suspicions of anti-British activity.

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