Golda Meir: A Woman Empowered

Golda Meir, one of the most powerful women in Israel’s history, was the third woman in the 20th century to become a leader of a nation. Though a frequent critic of the feminist movement, Golda herself was the focus of interest and criticism due to her gender. How did she deal with it? Why did she agree to enter a synagogue in Moscow but not in Tel Aviv? And what does this have to do with the Israeli Hatmakers’ Union?

Shir Aharon Bram | 13.07.21

Golda Meir, 1949, the Beno Rothenberg Archive, the Meitar Collection

On March 17, 1969, something momentous happened in Israel: Golda Meir was appointed Prime Minister. She became the first woman in Israeli history to lead the country and only the third in woman to head a national government in the 20^th century, preceded by Sirimavo Bandaranaike (Sri Lanka) and Indira Gandhi (India). The appointment of a woman as Prime Minister of Israel, a young, embattled country, only two years after the Six-Day War, was not self-evident; however, the chain of political events following the death of her predecessor Levi Eshkol led to Meir’s appointment, who was preferred over such figures as Yigal Alon, Moshe Dayan and Pinchas Sapir.

Only the ultra-Orthodox Agudat Israel party officially opposed Golda’s appointment, with the head of the faction, Yitzhak-Meir Levin, expressing concern that the appointment of a woman as Prime Minister would harm Israeli deterrence. Other than this, there was no other official or public grievance against Golda’s appointment. Meir, despite her image and role, was herself critical of the feminist movement, though she often spoke out as a woman. Nevertheless, the fact of her being the Prime Minister of the State of Israel was a subject of great interest, drawing both outright and hinted criticism.

Golda Meir and her new government, 1969. Photo: the Dan Hadani Collection, the Pritzker Family National Photography Collection at the National Library of Israel

Separation of Religion and State?

Golda Meir had a complex relationship with religion, dating back to long before her term as Prime Minister. During an official visit to Moscow in 1949 as Israel’s ambassador to the Soviet Union, Golda visited the famous Moscow Choral Synagogue. Photos of the visit were published in Israel and around the world, and upon her return to Israel, Member of Knesset Benjamin Mintz challenged her to pay a similar visit to a synagogue in Tel Aviv, saying “I invite you to the Great Synagogue for a prayer of thanksgiving. Or do you only visit synagogues in Moscow?” Without skipping a beat, Meir clarified that she had entered the synagogue in Moscow and agreed to sit in the women’s section because she wanted to meet the local Jews. But that as far as Tel Aviv was concerned, she would be happy to attend synagogue as soon as equality was achieved and she was allowed to sit in the main hall alongside the male members of the congregation.

*“When Will Golda Myerson Attend Synagogue?”* reads the headline of this Hebrew article reporting on Meir’s exchange with MK Benjamin Mintz, Maariv, May 4, 1949

Already in the early 1950s, Golda was seen as a possible candidate for the role of mayor of Tel Aviv, which sparked a discussion over a woman’s ability to serve in such a senior position; a widespread, lively debate on the subject was conducted in the media. Miriam Shir wrote in her column titled “What Say You, Woman?” in the Hebrew daily Davar: “We all need you, Golda Myerson, as “the ‘Head Homemaker’ for the city of Tel Aviv.”

Columnist Miriam Shir supported Golda Meir for the role of mayor of Tel Aviv, *Davar*, July 26, 1955

After taking office as Prime Minister, senior rabbis in the country expressed differing views on her appointment. The Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi of Israel, Isser Yehuda Unterman, when asked his opinion on the subject, refused to comment, explaining that as long as officials did not seek his opinion on the matter, there was no reason for him to offer one. Israel Prize winner and head of the Chabad religious court, Rabbi Shlomo Yosef Zevin, chose to publicly declare his negative opinion, basing his opposition on Maimonides’ Hilkhot Melakhim. The Sephardic Chief Rabbi of Israel Yitzhak Nissim stated that there was no problem with the appointment, while Rabbi Ovadia Yosef, then the chief Sephardic rabbi of Tel Aviv, was in no hurry to give his opinion, saying only that the matter needed to be studied in detail first.

The Case of the Hat

On Israeli Independence Day in 1973, in honor of the 25th anniversary of the State of Israel, the IDF held its last military parade. It was decided to permanently cancel the custom due to high costs, and this was to be the last hurrah, held in the presence of the Prime Minister who sat on the dais. Shortly after the parade, the Israeli Hatmakers’ Union (it turns out there was such a thing) published an official letter of grievance in a somewhat tongue-in-cheek Maariv article dedicated to the Prime Minister’s sloppy appearance, and the fact that she chose not to wear a hat during the parade. “Mrs. Meir’s bear head, exposed to the sun, served as a negative example to all Israeli women,” the union members wrote, demanding that Meir become a fashion leader and help promote the fashion of hats among Israeli women. The union members even offered to create a special hat model named for Golda, whose sale would compensate for the economic fallout they predicted would be caused by her appearance, which they feared would lead Israeli women to forego hats altogether.

“*Mrs. Meir’s bear head, exposed to the sun, served as a negative example to all Israeli women*” wrote the Israeli Hatmakers’ Union in Maariv, May 9, 1973

Would a male prime minister also have been criticized for his lack of fashion sense?

After the national trauma caused by the Yom Kippur War which broke out later that year, and despite the fact that the Agranat Commission did not find her directly guilty, Golda was blamed for the outcome. She eventually resigned from her role as Prime Minister in 1974.

Prime Minister Gold Meir resigns. April, 1974. Photo: the Dan Hadani Collection, the Pritzker Family National Photography Collection at the National Library of Israel

Golda Meir became famous in Israel and around the world for shattering a glass ceiling as well as for her lengthy political career. In Israel, her legacy and image, while very well known, are sometimes the subject of controversy, linked mainly to the outcome of the Yom Kippur War and the complacency that had preceded it. Outside of Israel, however, Golda was the subject of great admiration and respect, even during her lifetime. She was named “Most Admired Woman” by a Gallup poll in both 1973 (when she received twice as many votes as First Lady Pat Nixon) and 1974. After her death, New York City named a square after her and a Hollywood movie, A Woman Called Golda, starring Ingrid Bergman, was made about her life.

Recently, it seems that the historical figure of Golda Meir is experiencing something of a revival. Last month it was announced that the Oscar-winning Israeli director Guy Nativ is working on a new film about Meir, who will be played by award-winning actress Helen Mirren. Another project currently taking shape is a television series about the Israeli leader produced by Barbara Streisand and starring actress Shira Haas. The series, titled Lioness and based on Francine Klagsbrun’s biography of Golda Meir, will focus on the former Israeli Prime Minister’s role during the Yom Kippur War.

On the National Library of Israel’s various online platforms, Golda Meir is more frequently searched in English than in Hebrew. It is clear that her past in Israel is perceived differently than in the rest of the world, but as she herself said, “One cannot and must not try to erase the past merely because it does not fit the present.”

The Bizarre True Story of Israel’s First Government

It met in a movie theater, had a really weird assassination attempt, was led by a shockingly diverse coalition, and ended in resignation...

Zack Rothbart | 09.06.21

David Ben-Gurion chatting in the Knesset cafeteria, 1949 (Photo: Beno Rothenberg). From the Meitar Collection, National Library of Israel Digital Collection

About an hour before the first meeting of Israel’s inaugural government on February 14, 1949, David Ben-Gurion entered the Yeshurun Synagogue in Jerusalem. He went after promising a prominent religious Zionist rabbi that he would do so.

It was the first time the Jewish state’s secular founding father had been in a synagogue in the Land of Israel during prayers. He’d already lived in the Land for some forty years.

This uncharacteristic and incongruous event was perhaps a portent of things to come in Israel’s strange, and – in some ways – trendsetting first national government.

Voting for something else

The elections for Israel’s First Knesset in 1949 boasted the country’s highest ever voter turnout (some 87% of eligible voters).

Yet the roughly 440,000 people who voted were not voting for the Knesset at all!

They were voting for the “Constituent Assembly”, a body intended to create a constitution for the young Jewish state, not necessarily govern it.

Polling station in Abu Gosh during the Constituent Assembly elections, 1949 (Photo: Keren Hayesod). From the Pritzker Family National Photography Collection at the National Library of Israel

Two days after their first meeting, a proposal led by David Ben-Gurion was passed and the “Constituent Assembly” became known as the “Knesset”.

To this day, Israel does not have a constitution.

The secular, socialist, ultra-Orthodox, religious Zionist, Sephardic-Oriental, liberal, Arab coalition

The two biggest winners in the election, Ben-Gurion’s Mapai Party and Meir Yaari’s Mapam Party, were both left-wing and secular, yet Ben-Gurion refused to include Mapam in his coalition, preferring the inclusion of four smaller parties presenting a rather diverse and seemingly bizarre group of Haredim, Religious Zionists, Sephardic Jews, liberal secularists and Arabs…

Ben-Gurion, though, of course had his reasons for choosing these partners. It was important to him that parties representing divergent constituencies – especially more established and traditional communities – also be part of the country’s first government, in order to provide it with broader legitimacy and support, rather than simply rely upon mainstream secular Zionists.

The largest party in the coalition besides Mapai was the United Religious Front, comprised of four religious parties spanning the gamut from the historically anti-Zionist (and later non-Zionist) Haredi Agudat Yisrael and Poalei Agudat Yisrael parties to the fervently religious Zionist Mizrachi and Hapoel Hamizrachi parties.

The United Religious Front won 16 seats and to this day is the broadest religious party to run in a Knesset (or in this case, Constituent Assembly) election.

First vote of the Constituent Assembly, 14 February 1949 (Photo: Marlin Levin). From the Meitar Collection, National Library of Israel Digital Collection

The party known as “Sephardim and Oriental Communities” also joined Ben-Gurion, with the goal of promoting the interests of its eponymous constituency in the new state. The Progressive Party joined, as well. Though not socialist like Mapai, it was also largely representative of secular Ashkenazic Jews.

The smallest party in the coalition, with two seats, was the Democratic List of Nazareth, led by two Arabs from the Galilean city: Seif el-Din el-Zoubi, who had fought in the Haganah, and Amin-Salim Jarjora, a respected educator and jurist. The Democratic List of Nazareth was aligned with Mapai, part of Ben-Gurion’s efforts to show that Jews and Arabs could coexist in the new State of Israel.

“Living in a movie”

A popular Hebrew expression meaning “to live in a movie” is often used to describe an improbable, unrealistic or unbelievable person, event or situation.

If the circumstances around the establishment of the “First Knesset” or its composition were not enough to employ this expression, then the setting of its meetings certainly could be, because the first Israeli government met in a movie theater.

Yes, a movie theater…. and one named the “Magic Cinema” no less.

When it opened in 1945, the Kesem (“Magic” in Hebrew) Cinema in Tel Aviv was the city’s most luxurious, boasting more than 1,100 upholstered seats and screening the international blockbusters of its day.

The Knesset building, formerly the Kesem Cinema in Tel Aviv, 1949 (Photo: Beno Rothenberg). From the Meitar Collection, National Library of Israel Digital Collection

Interior of the Knesset building, formerly the Kesem Cinema in Tel Aviv, 1949 (Photo: Beno Rothenberg). From the Meitar Collection, National Library of Israel Digital Collection

The structure’s life as a cinema, however, was short-lived.

With the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948, Kesem was repurposed to serve as headquarters for the Israeli Navy.

In 1949, it became the Parliament building, as the Knesset met there for most of its inaugural year. While it may seem strange for a national legislative body to meet in a movie theater, given the dearth of large assembly halls and the fact that Kesem was relatively new, spacious and centrally located, it actually made a lot of sense for the “Magic Cinema” to host the First Knesset.

In addition to on-going Knesset meetings, Kesem was also the site of a bizarre, nearly successful attempt to assassinate David Ben-Gurion by a deranged kibbutznik shepherd who simply walked into the cinema building with an automatic weapon and a suitcase of pamphlets he had printed outlining his plans to bring world peace.

A policeman with the failed assassin’s suitcase and gun, published in *Maariv*, 13 September 1949. From the National Library of Israel Digital Collection

Though he claimed that he wanted to commit suicide in the Knesset in order to bring attention to his plan, some contemporary reports recounted that the would-be assassin yelled, “I will kill Ben-Gurion!”, after being tackled to the ground.

The end

Israel’s first government didn’t last much longer after that – ending rather abruptly (and absurdly) when Ben-Gurion resigned on October 15, 1950.

The reason?

He wanted to name a new Minister of Commerce and Industry, and according to the rules at the time, appointment of a new minister required that the entire government resign…

That rule was soon fixed, but the next few governments led by Ben-Gurion didn’t last long either. He resigned again in early 1951, yet again in 1952 and once more the following year.

David Ben-Gurion on the first day of the Constituent Assembly, 14 February 1949 (Photo: Marlin Levin). From the Meitar Collection, National Library of Israel Digital Collection

The importance of establishing an initial functional government – no matter how short-lived – cannot be understated. Ben-Gurion and his diverse political allies deserve significant credit for that.

In many respects, that rather strange first government also set the stage for the country’s political landscape to “live in a movie” ever since.

Israel’s Astounding (and Imprecise) World Record

The unbelievable story of how 1,088 (or was it 1,122?) people flew aboard a single airplane as part of 1991's Operation Solomon

Zack Rothbart | 24.05.21

Diaspora Gesher L’Europa Jewish Immigration Land of Israel Life Before The Holocaust The Holocaust

New immigrants from Ethiopian shortly after disembarking from the plane as part of Operation Solomon, 25 May 1991 (Photo: Gadi Cavallo). From the Dan Hadani Archive, Pritzker Family National Photography Collection at the National Library of Israel

Over a 36-hour period in the last week of May 1991, more than 14,000 Ethiopian Jews flew to Israel, with some 1,100 of them arriving on a single airplane!

That flight, in fact, still holds the Guinness World Record for the greatest number of passengers ever carried by a commercial airliner, though the exact number remains disputed three decades after the daring mission known as “Operation Solomon”.

As the immigrants boarded the plane they were counted. Official paperwork went to the relevant authorities and served as the basis for the official record of 1,088 passengers.

At a conference hosted by the Ben Zvi Institute commemorating 30 years since Operation Solomon, the plane’s pilot, Captain Arieh Oz, recalled the historic day (Hebrew).

After landing in Israel, Rafi Har-Lev, the CEO of El Al, asked Captain Oz, “How many passengers did you bring?” Upon hearing the tally, Har-Lev exclaimed, “That’s a world record,” and asked for a re-count just to make sure.

The new tally? 1,122.

A woman is assisted off the plane after landing in Israel, 25 May 1991 (Photo: Gadi Cavallo). From the Dan Hadani Archive, Pritzker Family National Photography Collection at the National Library of Israel

Captain Oz soon realized the reason for the rather significant discrepancy.

A number of mothers had hidden their children under their dresses as they boarded the plane, not fully certain where they were going, nor who exactly was taking them.

Many of the passengers, refugees from the war-torn Gondar region, had never seen an airplane before, let alone many of the other reflections of modern society to which they were suddenly exposed.

Their concern was more than justified given the circumstances.

A mother with her children shortly after disembarking from the plane in Israel, 25 May 1991 (Photo: Gadi Cavallo). From the Dan Hadani Archive, Pritzker Family National Photography Collection at the National Library of Israel

Captain Oz could certainly relate. Decades earlier, a Dutch family had hidden him for three years in their attic, saving him and his sister from being murdered during the Holocaust.

As he prepared to go to the Land of Israel after the war, the child was asked what he would do there:

“Will you be a shepherd? A camel herder?”

Arieh (born Harry Klausner) responded, “I will be a pilot!”

For decades Arieh Oz did just that, serving Israel and the Jewish people in ways his childhood self could not have even imagined, including taking part in the famous mission to free the hostages at Entebbe.

Arieh Oz as a young pilot (Source: Tkuma Leshchakim)

Long retired from active service in the Israeli Air Force, Oz was already senior staff at El Al when he was called to take part in Operation Solomon, flying the first Jumbo 747 ever to land at Addis Ababa airport. According to Oz, who had also spent time in Ethiopia training pilots in the 1960s, three Jumbos were set to land in Ethiopia’s capital as part of the operation. After two came in, local authorities complained that the weight of the massive aircraft had damaged the runway and the third Jumbo was forbidden from touching down.

This setback, as well as a technical issue with another plane, meant that the plan had to be changed. More passengers needed to join Captain Oz’s flight.

Captain Oz of course welcomed them aboard, later honoring the passengers’ request to inform them when the plane flew over Jerusalem.

At some point during the flight, after realizing that the Israeli team was kind and caring, the mothers who had concealed their children on the way onto the plane let them out of hiding.

Uncounted passengers? Mothers with their babies shortly after disembarking in Israel, 25 May 1991 (Photo: Gadi Cavallo). From the Dan Hadani Archive, Pritzker Family National Photography Collection at the National Library of Israel

When the flight finally landed in Israel – after flying over Jerusalem – there were some three dozen “new passengers”, Captain Oz recalled.

Though the higher number of 1,122 is noted by Guinness World Records, the lower number remains the official figure, as it is what appeared on the flight documents.

Kept secret for months, Operation Solomon would not have been possible without the tireless efforts of the global Jewish community and supporters worldwide; the countless Israelis who took part in all aspects of the mission, from planning through implementation; and, of course, the immigrants themselves, who longed for Zion and left all they knew to realize their dreams.

Regardless of whether the true number of passengers on that 747 was 1,088 or 1,122 (or something in between), Operation Solomon remains a rousing example of what can be accomplished when solidarity meets determination and sacrifice.

An Ethiopian Israeli at the Jewish Agency Office in Tel Aviv celebrates after hearing that his parents have just arrived as part of Operation Solomon, 26 May 1991 (Photo: Vered Peer). From the Dan Hadani Archive, Pritzker Family National Photography Collection at the National Library of Israel

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This article has been published as part of Gesher L’Europa, the National Library of Israel’s initiative to connect with people, institutions and communities across Europe and beyond, through storytelling, knowledge sharing and community engagement.

Jerusalem During the War of Independence—Now in Color!

The blockade of Jerusalem began during the first few days of the War of Independence, spreading from the Old City's Jewish Quarter to the rest of Jerusalem. These color photos from 1948 show us what life was like in the city that was cut off from the rest of the country…

Amit Naor | 09.05.21

History of Israel Jerusalem Land of Israel War of Independence

Going down to fetch water from the reservoirs during the blockade of Jerusalem. Photo: Moshe Marlin Levin, from the Meitar Collection, the National Library of Israel

It was the early days of Israel’s War of Independence, and Jerusalem was under blockade. The city had been placed under siege many times before. First came the Assyrians, then the Babylonians, followed by the Persians, the Greeks, the Romans, the Muslims, the Crusaders, the Ottomans, and that’s not even a complete list . Yet, this time, things were a bit different. For example, Jerusalem by this time had finally grown beyond the walls of the Old City. Another difference was the existence of the camera.

At first, it was just the Old City’s Jewish Quarter that was cut off from the rest of the city, but very soon, the Arab forces realized that all of Jewish Jerusalem was entirely dependent on the road to Tel Aviv and the coastal plain remaining open – this was the only route for bringing in critical food and supplies. In fact, a November 30th, 1947 attack on a bus traveling from Netanya to Jerusalem is often seen as the opening shot that set off the War of Independence. Later, the situation grew more severe when Jordan’s British-trained Arab Legion force took command of the campaign, following Israel’s declaration of statehood in May 1948. In late May, following a siege of several months, the Jewish Quarter in the Old City finally surrendered to the Jordanian forces, while the blockade of the road leading to Jerusalem remained in place. The convoys that struggled to reach the city (and also the nearby Etzion Bloc), the Israeli military operations which aimed to lift the blockade, the Battle of the Castel and the construction of the alternative “Burma Road” route to the coast—all these remain symbols of the War of Independence to this day.

As fate would have it, a man by the name of Moshe (Marlin) Levin was living in the city during the blockade period of 1947/48. Levin, born and raised in the United States, arrived in Mandatory Palestine with his wife in 1947. He quickly got a job as an assistant editor at the Palestine Post (which eventually became the Jerusalem Post), and later became the newspaper’s Jerusalem correspondent. During the War of Independence, he covered the war for the United Press news agency. Later, he founded and managed the offices of Time-Life Magazine in Israel, and worked there until he retired in the 1990s.

While the battles raged for control of the city and its access roads, Jerusalem’s Jewish residents—numbering nearly one hundred thousand at the time—got on with their daily lives. At least they attempted to keep up some semblance of routine. After all, they had to continue making a living. Levin’s camera gives us an extraordinary glimpse into those moments—and in color!

A Red Cross flag flies over the Terra Sancta building in Jerusalem. Photo: Moshe Marlin Levin, from the Meitar Collection, the National Library of Israel

Most of Levin’s photos from the siege are personal ones: in them, you can see his wife Batya (Betty), and their friends Gershon and Ethel Agron, going about their daily activities during the war. Gershon Agron was the editor-in-chief of the Palestine Post where Levin worked, and later the mayor of Jerusalem. Even someone like Agron had to find ways to make ends meet during the blockade.

Gershon and Ethel Agron during the blockade of Jerusalem. Photo: Moshe Marlin Levin, from the Meitar Collection, the National Library of Israel

For example, in one of the photos, Betty Levin is seen walking with the couple’s housekeeper to fetch water in jugs and buckets—the regular water supply was cut off and people had to ration clean water. Another picture shows the three women carrying home a large water tank, one of many photos in the collection which feature Jerusalem’s residents carrying water in jugs. Water tanks were also installed on roofs in order to collect and store rainwater.

Going down to fetch water from the reservoirs during the blockade of Jerusalem. Photo: Moshe Marlin Levin, from the Meitar Collection, the National Library of Israel

Betty Levin, Ethel Agron and the Agron’s housekeeper carry a jug of water during the blockade of Jerusalem. Photo: Moshe Levin, from the Meitar Collection, the National Library of Israel

Moshe Marlin Levin carrying a jug of water during the blockade of Jerusalem. The Meitar Collection, the National Library of Israel

Tanks for storing water on Jerusalem’s roofs during the blockade of Jerusalem. Photo: Moshe Marlin Levin, from the Meitar Collection, the National Library of Israel

During the blockade, water shortages were a serious problem, and one picture shows Betty Levin exchanging half a loaf of bread with a monk in return for water. Food was also scarce, and in another photo, Levin holds up a bag of food rations she received. And what were the cooking conditions like during this time? Moshe Levin photographed his wife preparing food on an improvised stove in their backyard.

Half a loaf of bread in exchange for water. Photo: Moshe Marlin Levin, from the Meitar Collection, the National Library of Israel

Betty Levin and a monk. Photo: Moshe Marlin Levin, from the Meitar Collection, the National Library of Israel

Betty Levin cooking on an improvised stove during the blockade of Jerusalem. Photo: Moshe Marlin Levin, from the Meitar Collection, the National Library of Israel

Betty Levin receiving a food rations package during the blockade of Jerusalem. Photo: Moshe Marlin Levin, from the Meitar Collection, the National Library of Israel

The food allotment was not always enough: Moshe Levin also documented people scavenging for food in trashcans, or a beggar sitting on a street corner asking for help from passers-by.

A man searches for food scraps in a trashcan during the blockade of Jerusalem. Photo: Moshe Marlin Levin, from the Meitar Collection, the National Library of Israel

A resident of the Nahlaot neighborhood during the blockade of Jerusalem. Photo: Moshe Marlin Levin, from the Meitar Collection, the National Library of Israel

A beggar during the blockade of Jerusalem. Photo: Moshe Marlin Levin, from the Meitar Collection, the National Library of Israel

And in the midst of all this, daily life continued. Moshe Levin also documented the mundane, whether it was during a period of ceasefire or at other times. He photographed children playing in the street, his wife walking down Jaffa Street, and even nuns walking with parasols on King George Street. Despite everything, life went on.

Children playing during the blockade of Jerusalem. Photo: Moshe Marlin Levin, from the Meitar Collection, the National Library of Israel

Children on Ben Yehuda Street during the blockade of Jerusalem. Photo: Moshe Marlin Levin, from the Meitar Collection, the National Library of Israel

Betty Levin walking on Jaffa Street during the blockade of Jerusalem. Photo: Moshe Marlin Levin, from the Meitar Collection, the National Library of Israel

Nuns walking on King George Street in Jerusalem during the blockade of Jerusalem. Photo: Moshe Marlin Levin, from the Meitar Collection, the National Library of Israel

All the photos in the article are from the archive of Moshe (Marlin) Levin, part of the Meitar Collection at the National Library of Israel. Moshe Levin’s archive has recently been cataloged, and many more photos are available for viewing on the National Library of Israel website.

Were you able to identify anyone in the pictures above? If so, please contact the National Library of Israel.