The Girl from Babylon

By Adina-Hay Nissan and Ari Derin

In 1939, the British restricted Jewish Immigration into Palestine by enforcing a policy known as "The White Paper." A Jewish underground organization known as the Irgun, fought furiously against them. After the Holocaust ended in 1945, the British continued to restrict Jews from entering the country and the Irgun renewed their fight against the British.
The Girl from Babylon tells the fascinating story of one of the Irgun's surviving members, Adina-Hay Nissan.
Adina served the Irgun as a messenger and played a vital role in some of the most historic missions in early Israeli history, including the infamous bombing of the King David Hotel.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Dec 5, 2018
• ISBN: 9780228807056

Adina-Hay Nissan

One cool day in September in Toronto, Canada, Adina-Hay Nissan hailed a van to travel to the grocery store. The driver of that van was a young, aspiring writer by the name of Ari Derin.Ari was intrigued by Adina's life story, and the pair soon developed a rapport. Adina asked Ari if he would write her life story, and Ari agreed. The result is the book you are about to enjoy. The Girl from Babylon is the true-life story of Adina-Hay Nissan. It is a courageous and inspiring coming of age story. You will question the true meaning of sacrifice, and what it means to fight for what you believe in.Adina now lives in Toronto with her children Ray and Ruth and loving grandchildren. Ari Derin also lives and works in Toronto. He is a lifelong writer and has published film reviews and celebrity interviews for tribute.ca.

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The Girl from Babylon

Copyright © 2018 by Adina-Hay Nissan & Ari Derin

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Tellwell Talent

www.tellwell.ca

ISBN

978-0-2288-0704-9 (Paperback)

978-0-2288-0705-6 (eBook)

Table of Contents

Adina-Hay’s Note: 1

Part One 3

Part Two 14

Epilogue 147

Family Pictures 152

Bibliography 155

Adina-Hay’s Note:

This is a story of the formative years of my childhood and young adulthood, and my involvement in the Irgun, Zvai Le’umi (the National Military Organization), known in Hebrew by its acronym Etzel, and in English as the Irgun or IZL. The scope of this book includes my involvement with the Irgun between 1939 and the period shortly after Israel gained its independence in 1948. I was an active member in the Irgun during this time. My work as a messenger contributed to Israel’s independence.

There are two sections to this book.

The first section is an introduction to my family’s history and journey from Babylon to Palestine/Israel. I describe the important relationships among my family as well as my firsthand experience of being an original settler in the land of Palestine/Israel. I also describe how I became a member of the Irgun and my early experience with the organization.

In the second section I relate short stories of my firsthand experience as a member of the Irgun. Each chapter is centred on a historic mission that I took part in, and prefaced by a historical context elucidated by two key scholars of Israeli history. The first scholar is Yehuda Lapidot and the second is Thurston Clark.

Mr. Lapidot explains that in its initial years, the Irgun was primarily concerned with repelling Arab riots in the country. Whilst the Haganah adhered to the policy of self-restraint (‘Havlaga’) in the face of Arab attacks, the Irgun activity resisted Arab aggression.

With the publication of the 1939 White Paper restricting Jewish immigration into Palestine, the Irgun had no choice but to direct their efforts against the British. A truce was briefly declared after the outbreak of the Second World War. When the full extent of the Holocaust became known, and it was clear that Britain was continuing to implement the White Paper, the Irgun realized that there was no alternative but to renew the armed struggle against the British in Palestine.

On February first, 1944, the Irgun proclaimed a revolt against British rule over Palestine. They demanded that the British leave the country forthwith and that a Jewish state be established. The gradual intensification of military action against the Mandatory government undermined the basis of British rule. These operations carried out with the Lehi (Fighters for the Freedom of Israel), and occasionally with the Haganah as well, ultimately forced the British government to bring the question of the future of Palestine before the United Nations.

On November twenty-ninth, 1947, the UN Assembly decided to partition Palestine into two states: a Jewish state, the State of Israel; and a Palestinian-Arab state.

It is obvious that the armed fight against the British, in which the Irgun took a prominent part, had a decisive role in their withdrawal from the country.

Part One

My grandfather and father of the Chai Tribe, Jacob Hay, turned darkness into light. He was a candle-master in Babylon who married the very beautiful Rachel Chai of the two Abduel Ozher families.

My father, Mayer George, was a boy when Jacob died. The family elders sent him to India to avoid conscription. It is in India that my father learned how to speak Hindu. My father also knew how to speak Turkish, Persian, English, Arabic, and Hebrew. He was a true beneficiary of the confusion of tongues.

When the war ended he made the journey home to Babylon. As he sat on a cart bound to Babylon he thought about his sisters and little brother Sadok. He thought about how he would find the money to support them and about the kind of man his father Jacob was.

I remember the story well. My father told me, My father (and your grandfather) was a candle-master. He was an able man, respected by Christians and Jews alike for his superior craftsmanship. My father continued, I thought to myself, what did I do? Who was I? What kind of man would I become once I returned to Babylon? I sat on that cart repeating those same thoughts in my mind like the scraping sound of the cart’s wooden wheels over the gravel road. Who am I? What kind of man am I?

When he returned to Babylon he started working for an Armenian carpet merchant whom he already knew. He had known this merchant as a boy, and now he worked for him again as a man. The merchant and his shop appeared unchanged, and his menial job was no different than before. He organized and carried carpets.

My father did his job with his brother Sadok for this forward-thinking merchant for some time. According to my father, Sadok was good company. He was very loyal. My father always told me that loyalty is a quality more important than any other.

The merchant recognized my father’s work ethic and potential and gave him sound advice.

You are a young man, he told my father. You should go to your homeland, Jerusalem, where you can make a decent living. There are Iranian Jews there. They will buy your carpets.

My father thought this was good advice and took it. His brother Sadok followed.

The long, hot journey with all its sandstorms and foreign insects that bite in the night took a toll on them both. They encountered many frustrations along the way. The Muslim customs agents were the most difficult. When they saw two Iranians with a cartload of merchandise they thought they could take advantage. They wanted cash or merchandise or both as a bribe in return for safe passage. My father gave them more than what they wanted to establish goodwill. He realized he needed these agents.

The customs agents were Arab. After the First World War, the British brought workers from Islamic countries to handle the grunt work of the country. The Jews were more difficult to confine to these roles. Like my father, they found other ways to make a living. As a result, there was animosity between Jews and Arabs.

When they finally arrived in Jerusalem they decided to rest for one night in a hotel. There were hardly any hotels at the time. Palestine was a new frontier.

An older but very beautiful and clever woman ran this hotel. She recognized Sadok’s submissiveness, seduced him, and persuaded him to stay and help her run the hotel.

Once again, my father was alone and so he began taking long walks through the city. The long walks served two purposes at once. The first purpose was meditative, and the second was more practical. It did not take him very long to survey the city. He observed that certain sections of the city provided better pedestrian traffic than others. After consulting with the locals, merchants, and vendors, he decided that Ben Yehuda Street was the best location to set up shop. He was right.

Ben Yehuda was and still is the main thoroughfare alive with inviting sounds and smells. There were snake charmers, street performers, artisan shops of all kinds, cafés, restaurants, and lots and lots of pedestrian traffic.

I remember Ben Yehuda Street as well as Alanby and Jaffa Street from when I was a young woman. Those streets in the city of Jerusalem were known as the triangle. The triangle was where one could experience real nightlife. Jerusalem was a small but international place.

In the daytime the wealthy lounged in the cafés and restaurants. There were Polish, German, and other kinds of restaurants and cafés. Classical music could be heard during the day, and swing music would blare at night.

My father saw an old man looking out at him from a vacant and dilapidated shop. After a few hours of negotiation, they settled on a price for rent and the Tehran Bazar was born. That shop, the Tehran Bazar, stood for decades.

However, the Tehran Bazar was not immediately successful. My father learned how to sell his merchandise though trial and error. He experimented with the store’s display, the prices of the merchandise, and the strategic partnerships with other merchants on Ben Yehuda Street.

His expanding clientele consisted of Iranian Jews, and the majority bought merchandise on credit. Eventually he ran out of carpets to sell. He made the same long journey multiple times per year. He would visit with Sadok and his newfound lover, and then cross the border to be with his family. My father would stay with his mother Rachel and sisters Aviva and Hannah. Aviva cared for three orphan children. My father would take care of his family, and then meet with the Armenian to purchase more merchandise and return to Palestine.

My father’s family lived in Baghdad, but his uncles and aunts lived in Basrah. It is in Basrah where he met Sarah Rosa, his wife and my mother.

Sarah Rosa

My mother’s late father belonged to the Sasoon family of India. His name was Shaul.

My grandmother’s name was Habiba. Habiba and Shaul were very young when they were married. She was sixteen or seventeen and he was around twenty. She was a smart woman and knew how to read and write.

When Habiba was in the later part of her pregnancy, Shaul died from a heart attack.

My mother was just old enough to remember a meeting with a man dressed in the dark silk of a professional. His name was Yeheskel and he was a lawyer in his forties. My grandmother Habiba was still a teenager. My great grandmother attended this meeting as well. Yeheskel told Habiba in that meeting about how much inheritance she would receive, and about how much her mother and little daughter Sarah Rosa would receive. It was a considerable sum.

Yeheskel’s eye was on Habiba at this meeting over tea. Habiba, like my mother, had flowing black hair, a white face, and red cheeks.

Habiba’s mother knew that the lawyer was married. He had a wife and children of his own. Nevertheless, Habiba’s youthfulness was irresistible to him.

Not long after this meeting, Yeheskel went to his wife and told her he had fallen in love and wanted to live with this woman. His wife was surprisingly acquiescent to the idea. She told him to live with the girl but that she would not permit a divorce.

Yeheskel, overwhelmed with joy, went to live with Habiba. Meanwhile he was still a married man.

My mother went to live with her paternal grandmother, Esther.

My mother was a child when Habiba had a dream. Habiba was lying in bed with Yeheskel when it happened. It was a grotesque dream in which her daughter cried out for her. This dream tormented Habiba, and so she went to Esther and pled for her daughter’s return. Esther said she would not allow it, but later she agreed. She returned Sarah Rosa to her mother after raising her for six years.

My mother Sarah Rosa was a Sephardic Jew by definition.

It is my opinion that the Jews who lived in Babylon at the time were not Sephardic. Sephardic Jews can be more accurately described as Jews who were deported from their homeland. My mother was not. Nevertheless, my mother learned to write Hebrew in Rashi Script with her right hand.

When my mother was six years old, she came home to a new family. This must have been traumatic for her, although she never discussed her feelings about this with me. Yehesekel and Habiba had many children. First there was Jamila, and then Maniaria, Naman, Shalem, and Zvi. I have fond and not so fond memories of my uncle Zvi which I will come to later. My mother wanted to feel close to her new half-siblings, and she bonded with them through her passion and raw talent for design.

At the age of sixteen my mother began designing and making robes for her half-siblings. She envisioned colours and patterns that fit her mood, and became very good at her craft. After much practice, she became a respectable seamstress. I often wondered if my mother’s intrinsic drive was somehow related to her desire to belong. Being a half-sibling, I thought, must have been very difficult for her.

As she honed her craft she noticed the dignitaries who walked the streets of Baghdad. My mother saw the sheikhs frequenting the more expensive boutiques to buy robes for their wives. My mother made it her mission to design dresses for these powerful women.

She conjured new fashions of dresses and sold them to the sheikhs of Baghdad. I liked to think she drew on her ancestral royal roots as she designed these intricate robes. High praise of her work followed. As demand increased, she took it upon herself to hire the impoverished girls of the town. She taught them a very useful trade, and built her business at the same time.

My mother would throw her most beautiful fabrics into a fire on Lag BaOmer. The bond fire was in honour of the great rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai. The fabric was made with threads of silver and gold. Even during uncertain financial times for our family, my