Exodus - Leon Uris [275]
He went to see his old friend Taha the muktar in the stone house by the stream. No matter how strained feelings were, a man must be made welcome in the house of an Arab. It was an age-old custom, but despite Taha’s going through the motions of hospitality Ari felt a coldness he had never known before from Taha.
The two men shared a meal and spoke small talk. When Ari felt that enough ceremony had been served he turned to the purpose of his visit.
“The time has come,” Ari said, “that I must know your feelings.”
“My feelings these days are of little concern.”
“I am afraid that I must talk now as the Haganah commander of the area, Taha.”
“I gave you my word that Abu Yesha would remain neutral.”
Ari stood up from the table and looked Taha directly in the eye and spoke words harsh to an Arab ear.
“You have given your word but you have broken it,” he said.
Taha looked at him with a flash of anger.
“We happen to know that Kawukji’s men have been passing through Abu Yesha in droves.”
“And what do you expect of me?” Taha snapped. “Shall I ask them to please stop coming? I didn’t invite them.”
“Neither did I. Look, my friend ... there was once a time when you and I didn’t speak to each other this way.”
“Times change, Ari.”
Ari walked to the window and looked out at the mosque by the opposite side of the stream. “I have always loved this spot. We knew many happy days in this room and by that stream. Do you remember the nights that you and I camped out there?”
“That was a long time ago.”
“Maybe I’ve got a long memory. We used to talk about it during the riots, how ridiculous it was for everyone else to fight. We took blood vows to be eternal brothers. Taha ... I was up all of last night thinking of what I was going to say today. I began remembering all the things that you and I have done together.”
“Sentimentality does not become you, Ari.”
“Neither does having to threaten you. Mohammed Kassi and the men in Fort Esther are the same kind of men who murdered your father while he was kneeling at prayer. The minute the British leave the area he is going to come down from Fort Esther and get you to block the road to Gan Dafna. If you let him, he’ll shove rifles in the hands of your people and order you to attack Yad El.”
“And just what do you expect of me?”
“And what do you expect of me?” Ari countered.
A stony silence ensued.
“You are the muktar of Abu Yesha. You can rally your people just as your father did. You’ve got to stop doing business with the irregulars.”
“Or what?”
“Or you will be treated as an enemy.”
“Or what? Ari?”
“You are going to bring on the destruction of Abu Yesha.”
Neither Ari nor Taha quite believed Ari’s words. Ari was tired; he walked up to the Arab and put his hand on Taha’s shoulder.
“Please,” Ari said, “help me.”
“I am an Arab,” Taha said.
“You are a human being. You know right from wrong.”
“I am a dirty Arab!”
“It is you who thinks that of himself.”
“Are you going to tell me I am your brother?”
“You always have been,” Ari said.
“If I am your brother, then give me Jordana. Yes, that is right ... give her to me and let me take her to my bed. Let her bear my children.”
Ari’s fist shot out and crashed against Taha’s jaw. The Arab was sent sprawling to his hands and knees. He sprang up and instinctively unsheathed the dagger from his waist sash and came at Ari.
Ari stood rigidly, making no move to defend himself. Taha raised the knife, then froze and turned and threw it from him. It clattered over the stone floor.
“What have I done?” Ari whispered. He walked toward Taha with an expression that begged forgiveness.
“You have told me everything that I need to know. Get out of my house, Jew.”
Chapter Four
A TERRIBLE TURN had taken place at Flushing Meadow. Anticipating the necessity of armed intervention to back up partition, and fearing the Russian position as part of an international force, the United States announced its intention to abandon its stand for partition.
The Yishuv launched a desperate