Exodus - Leon Uris [115]
Yakov Rabinsky, the younger of the brothers, was swept up in the new ideology. Often during the night he lay awake, staring into the darkness in the alcove of the shop he shared with his brother Jossi. How wonderful it would be to be able to fight! How wonderful to strike out and really find the Holy Land! Yakov’s head was filled with the past glory of the Hebrews. Often he pretended he fought alongside Judah “the Hammer” as the Maccabees swept the Greeks from Judea. He, Yakov Rabinsky, would be there as Judah Maccabee entered Jerusalem and rededicated the Temple.
Yakov Rabinsky would be there with Simon Bar Giora, who held Jerusalem against the might of Rome for eighteen long months. He would be there in chains alongside Giora as the proud Hebrew warrior was led off to Rome to the lions’ den.
Yakov would be there with the greatest of them all—Bar Kochba, the scourge of the Romans.
He would be there at the stands at Herodium and Machaerus and Masada and Beitar, where they fought to the last man after several years of siege.
And of all his heroes, Yakov wanted most to be with Rabbi Akiva when he met his martyrdom at Caesarea, for Akiva was teacher, scholar, and fighter all in one.
When the Lovers of Zion came around to Zhitomir, Yakov ran off to the meetings immediately. Their message of auto-emancipation was music to his ears. The Lovers of Zion wanted his brother Jossi because of his size and strength; but Jossi out of respect for his father as commanded by God was slow to move toward these radical ideas.
The day after the Bilu from Palestine spoke in Hacohen’s candle shop, Jossi could stand it no longer. He wanted to know everything from Yakov—how the Bilu looked—every word he said—every gesture.
“I think, Jossi, the time has come for you to attend a meeting with me.”
Jossi sighed. It would mark the first time in his life he had openly gone against his father’s wishes. “Very well,” he whispered, and all that day asked forgiveness for what he was about to do.
The brothers told their father they were going to say Kaddish, a mourner’s prayer, for a friend who had recently died. They sped off to the shop of Hacohen, the candlemaker. It was a tiny basement shop like their own home. It smelled of wax and sweet scents. Curtains were drawn over the windows. Guards were posted outside on the street. Jossi was surprised at how many familiar faces he saw in the packed room. The speaker was a man from Odessa named Vladimir.
Vladimir neither looked nor acted like them. He had no beard or side curls. He wore boots and a black leather jacket. As he began to speak Yakov became entranced, and around the room a half dozen hecklers started up.
“Are you the Messiah who has come to lead us back?” someone called.
“Did you find the Messiah under your bed when you hid during the last pogrom?” Vladimir rejoined.
“Are you sure you are not one of the Czar’s spies?”
“Are you sure you are not one of the Czar’s next victims?” Vladimir retorted.
The room quieted down. Vladimir spoke softly. He reviewed the history of the Jews in Poland and in Russia and then expanded his summary to include Germany and Austria as well. Then he spoke of the expulsions from England and France—then of the massacres at Bray and York and Spires and Worms.
Vladimir spoke of how the Pope had called upon the Christians to regain the Holy Land from the Moslems and of how five Crusades over three hundred years were directed against the Jews in the name of God.
Vladimir spoke of one of the most horrible periods of all—the Spanish Inquisition, during which unbelievable atrocities against the Jews were committed in the name of the Church.
“Comrades, every nation on the face of this earth has derided us. We must arise again as a nation. It is our only salvation. Pinsker has seen it and the Lovers of Zion see it and the Bilus see it. We must rebuild the House of Jacob!”
Yakov’s heart was pounding as the boys left the meeting. “See, Jossi! What did I tell you! You saw tonight that even Rabbi Lipzin was there.”
“I must think about