Walk into the Ashkenazi synagogue of the Ari Hakadosh in Tzfat, and if you look carefully, you will notice a strange detail that begs a story. On the side of the bimah (the prayer lectern from where the Torah is read), directly opposite the door, there is a small hole filled with small pieces of paper. It appears to be a sign of wear and tear, that needs to be fixed, until you take a closer look and realize the small pieces of paper are actually prayers and requests with the names of hundreds of sick and needy Jews asking for miracles, similar to the ones that are found in between the cracks of the stones in the Kotel.
In 1948, in the middle of the War of Independence, the Jewish quarter of the Old City of Tsfat came under heavy shellfire. In the middle of the afternoon prayers, a shell landed in the courtyard, and a piece of shrapnel came flying through the open door of the synagogue.
The congregation was in the middle of the Modim prayer, thanking G-d for the daily miracles which “are with us each and every day. And an older man praying next to the bimah was bowing down, and as he bent over in supplication, the shrapnel flew over him, missing him by an inch and imbedding itself in the bimah, where the hole remains as silent testimony to G-d’s hand in the world, to this very day.
Every tour guide worth his salt will show his tourists this spot and with a smile, will ask the same question: was this a miracle or just a freak of nature? In Tsfat, there are no miracles, because all of nature is miraculous, and miracles surround us every day.
There is another Tsfat story, however, that is somewhat less known which raises this question far beyond the personal story of this particular individual.
In 1948, things did not look promising for the Jews. The British controlling Palestine had finally come to the conclusion that they could not resolve the quagmire of Jewish and Arab interests in the land of Israel, and handed the question over to the United Nations, who voted in 1947 to partition Palestine (minus Tran Jordan) into two states granting the Jews their long awaited homeland in the land of Israel. While the Jews rejoiced in November of 1947, the Arabs were less enthusiastic, and the War of Independence began in earnest.
The British decided they were pulling out, leaving the Jews and Arabs to resolve their own differences, and announced that the British army would leave Palestine forever on May 14, 1948. The Jews announced that on the same day they would officially declare the establishment of the State of Israel, and the Arabs vowed that it would be the shortest-lived state in the history of the world. Seven Arab armies massed on British Mandatory borders (not wanting to enter until the British left, as that would have constituted an invasion of British territory) committed to pushing the Jews into the sea before sun set on the Jewish state.
While the Arab armies of Iraq, Egypt, Syria, Lebanon, and forces from Morocco, Tunisia, and Algeria could not cross the borders, the Arabs living inside Palestine had no such restrictions and Jewish communities across the country came under heavy attack across the country.
In Tsfat, where 80,000 Arabs surrounded approximately 3,000 Jews living in the Jewish quarter, the Jews braced for the worst. One night, a few weeks before the pullout the British told the Jewish community they were leaving in the morning and had reliable intelligence that the Arabs were planning a massive attack immediately following their departure. Predicting a massacre, they urged the Jews to leave the city, even making room for them in the convoy. With eight hours notice, they assumed the Jews would panic, but not a single Jew left the city.
Sure enough, as the empty British trucks pulled out of Tsfat, thousands of Arabs armed with hunting rifles, knives, and clubs attacked the Jewish quarter and it looked as though British fears would be confirmed. The few hundred Jewish fighters were hopelessly outnumbered and fierce fighting broke out at the entrance to the Jewish Old City.
The Citadel, the most important position in the city, with a strategic command of the entire area, was a British fortress which the Jewish fighters had to take in order to survive. However, the Arabs, with advanced notice of the British pullout, had already taken command of the Citadel. In a bold move, members of the Palmach, (the fighting arm of the Jewish underground Haganah), planted explosives at the base of the Citadel walls, determined to blast their way through the thick walls in a desperate attempt to save the Jewish quarter an establish a position from which to hold out against the furious Arab onslaught.
Suddenly, just as they were ready to detonate the explosives, a freak rainstorm broke out, soaking the detonation wires and preventing the explosion. Now, realize, this was May, the beginning of spring; it does not rain in Israel in May; the rainy season usually ends a month or two earlier. A young Jewish fighter, before he died was heard to say to one of his religious comrades: “Doesn’t G-d want us to come home? How could He let it rain in May?”
(Eventually fighters managed to cross the street under heavy gunfire and detonate the explosives from close range, but losing many men in the process. The bullet holes still mark the walls where this fierce battle took place.)
Meanwhile, down below, at the entrance to the Jewish quarter, things were going from bad to worse, and in desperation, the Jews decided to employ their last resort.
With a heavy British blockade, precious few arms were successfully smuggled in to arm the Jewish fighters, so the Jews developed what they hoped would be an answer to Arab armor and artillery. Called the Davidka, they fashioned a home-built mortar, designed to fire large amounts of materials at the enemy. One could fill the Davidka with rocks, nails and metal balls, and, setting it off with explosives, fire a deadly stream at the advancing enemy. It was a brilliant idea, as it would allow the Jews to use what supplies were readily available to arm themselves. Unfortunately, it did not work, barely knocking a man down at close range. It did, however, produce an incredibly loud explosion, and the Jews at this point had nothing to lose. And so, faced with thousands of Arabs, and without even enough bullets to fire at all of them, they fired the Davidka just as the rain began pouring down. And to their amazement, the Arabs stopped, and then turned and ran.
Not quite understanding what was happening, they fired the Davidka three more times until the entire Arab army had fled the quarter. And the miracle legend of Tsfat was born.
It was only after the war that they finally found out what had really happened. It seems that the greatest fear of the Arabs was the fact that most of the people behind the development of America’s atomic bomb were Jewish (most notably Einstein and Oppenheimer), and the Arabs had heard a little bit about acid rain. So they assumed the Jews had just set off an atomic bomb, and the rest is history!
A miracle… or a freak of nature?
This week’s double portion,