in Palestine.
In the mood of despair in which I found myself in 1946, I approached in London an old friend of the family from Johannesburg, Samuel Katz. He was a slim, bespectacled man who bore a strong resemblance to his mentor in the Revisionist movement of Zionism, Zeâev Jabotinsky. He was an intellectual and an authority on Jewish history and customs, particularly the history of political Zionism.
Though creating the impression of a quiet, studious intellectual, he had always been a firebrand Zionist member of the Revisionist party. When the time came for overt action, he became an active member of the Irgun Zvai Leumi (National Military Organization), the military arm of the party. He detested what he called the liberal attitude of the mainstream parties in Palestine such as the Mapai Labour Movement. He disliked Chaim Weizmann, referring to his approach as âanother cow and another dunamâ policy, meaning the gradual, peaceful, and orderly progress toward setting up an independent state. In view of what happened to the Jewish communities in the Holocaust, few would dispute the Irgunâs urgent activist policy of fighting with all means to ensure the immediate establishment of an independent state that would open its borders to Jews everywhere.
Far away in sunny and peaceful South Africa, in more or less complete ignorance of what was happening to our brethren under the Nazis, my family and I had considered the Revisionists to be a committed but violent group, and I did not find enough common ground to support them.
At the time, the British and society in general considered the Irgun Zvai Leumi as a dangerous terrorist organization. Despite my inner conflict and knowing that by joining the Irgun in an active role I would be crossing the line from the background in which I had been raised, I made a firm decision to espouse unreservedly by any means, however violent, the aim of founding an independent state that would shelter the remnants of the Jewish population of Europe. Though I realized this step might cost me dearly during the bitter struggle ahead, this about-face in my life was essential for my own peace of mind.
With great secrecy, Katz introduced me to one of the Irgun activists in London. Having all my life been an Anglophile, educated for five years at a very British public school in Natal and having served as an officer in an RAF fighter squadron, I was torn between my allegiance to Britain and the Commonwealth. I took sides in what would clearly be a bitter struggle against Britain to achieve our goal. I joined the Irgun in England as an active member of the organization, knowing full well that this move would place me in direct conflict with the British government and possibly also the country of my birth. South Africa was at that time still a part of the British Commonwealth.
Shortly after joining the Irgun, I was sent to Paris for training in underground tactics. My first meeting in Pariswith the commanders of the Irgun was at the Lutetia Hotel on Boulevard Raspail, headquarters of the Irgun in Europe. Katzâs familiarity with the members whom I met reassured me somewhat after the tales that appeared daily in the British press about the bloodthirsty terrorists who comprised the Irgun fighters. Shortly after arriving in Paris, I was given a nom de guerre to be used in our Irgun activities. I became âSamuel Bennet.â
âBenjaminâ was the code name of the commander of Irgun Europe, and I discovered his real identity only many years later, Eliahu Lankin. He was unassuming, of medium height, and his spectacles gave him a studious air. He was soft-spoken, cultured, and gentle, the last person one would suspect of being a terrorist. Only the fact that in the middle of the European winter he was deeply sunburned gave a clue to his having escaped shortly before from Eritrea, where he had been deported by the British Mandate authorities in Palestine. The British often
In the mood of despair in which I found myself in 1946, I approached in London an old friend of the family from Johannesburg, Samuel Katz. He was a slim, bespectacled man who bore a strong resemblance to his mentor in the Revisionist movement of Zionism, Zeâev Jabotinsky. He was an intellectual and an authority on Jewish history and customs, particularly the history of political Zionism.
Though creating the impression of a quiet, studious intellectual, he had always been a firebrand Zionist member of the Revisionist party. When the time came for overt action, he became an active member of the Irgun Zvai Leumi (National Military Organization), the military arm of the party. He detested what he called the liberal attitude of the mainstream parties in Palestine such as the Mapai Labour Movement. He disliked Chaim Weizmann, referring to his approach as âanother cow and another dunamâ policy, meaning the gradual, peaceful, and orderly progress toward setting up an independent state. In view of what happened to the Jewish communities in the Holocaust, few would dispute the Irgunâs urgent activist policy of fighting with all means to ensure the immediate establishment of an independent state that would open its borders to Jews everywhere.
Far away in sunny and peaceful South Africa, in more or less complete ignorance of what was happening to our brethren under the Nazis, my family and I had considered the Revisionists to be a committed but violent group, and I did not find enough common ground to support them.
At the time, the British and society in general considered the Irgun Zvai Leumi as a dangerous terrorist organization. Despite my inner conflict and knowing that by joining the Irgun in an active role I would be crossing the line from the background in which I had been raised, I made a firm decision to espouse unreservedly by any means, however violent, the aim of founding an independent state that would shelter the remnants of the Jewish population of Europe. Though I realized this step might cost me dearly during the bitter struggle ahead, this about-face in my life was essential for my own peace of mind.
With great secrecy, Katz introduced me to one of the Irgun activists in London. Having all my life been an Anglophile, educated for five years at a very British public school in Natal and having served as an officer in an RAF fighter squadron, I was torn between my allegiance to Britain and the Commonwealth. I took sides in what would clearly be a bitter struggle against Britain to achieve our goal. I joined the Irgun in England as an active member of the organization, knowing full well that this move would place me in direct conflict with the British government and possibly also the country of my birth. South Africa was at that time still a part of the British Commonwealth.
Shortly after joining the Irgun, I was sent to Paris for training in underground tactics. My first meeting in Pariswith the commanders of the Irgun was at the Lutetia Hotel on Boulevard Raspail, headquarters of the Irgun in Europe. Katzâs familiarity with the members whom I met reassured me somewhat after the tales that appeared daily in the British press about the bloodthirsty terrorists who comprised the Irgun fighters. Shortly after arriving in Paris, I was given a nom de guerre to be used in our Irgun activities. I became âSamuel Bennet.â
âBenjaminâ was the code name of the commander of Irgun Europe, and I discovered his real identity only many years later, Eliahu Lankin. He was unassuming, of medium height, and his spectacles gave him a studious air. He was soft-spoken, cultured, and gentle, the last person one would suspect of being a terrorist. Only the fact that in the middle of the European winter he was deeply sunburned gave a clue to his having escaped shortly before from Eritrea, where he had been deported by the British Mandate authorities in Palestine. The British often
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