When Israelis Stood in Line for Rations

Lines, food shortages and powdered eggs. The coronavirus crisis recalls the early days of the State of Israel, when a policy of austerity was put in place

Israelis stand in line to receive food rations, photo: Hans Pinn, GPO

The word “austerity” has become quite commonplace over the past 15 years or so, especially in the financial press. It made its great resurgence during the global economic crisis of 2008 as well as the European debt crisis that followed. The Hebrew word for austerity – tzena – carries somewhat different connotations for many Israelis. Some of our readers may have heard of the “Tzena Era” during the State of Israel’s early years, but aside from a few strange references in local cult films, what do we really know about this period? We poked through the National Library archives to bring you some of the sights – and flavors – of austerity-era Israel.

During the first full decade of the state’s existence, the Israeli government installed an economic policy of austerity – tzena. However, when used today, the term usually refers only to the first few years during which the policy was implemented, when its influence was extremely noticeable. Although the policy included economic measures in many different fields, the most memorable aspect today was the rationing of food. Prices of food products were regulated and monitored, and citizens were allowed to purchase only limited amounts of food, which they received in exchange for coupons.

*“Do not pay more than the stated price” –* An example of the monthly (December) food menu which citizens of Israel were entitled to purchase – “*White sugar, Oil, Margarine, Farm eggs…” –* The Historical Poster Collection at the National Library of Israel

In fact, rationing expanded to products beyond food, such as furniture and clothing. Israeli companies, such as “Lodjia” and “Ata” produced clothes that were distributed in exchange for rationing coupons, and set the tone for the little country’s fashion trends during the 1950s.

Trying on clothes during the *tzena* period, photo: Beno Rothenberg, Meitar Collection

And now for a paragraph on extenuating circumstances: at the time, the Israeli government was not the only government in the world that decided on a regime of austerity or rationing, which there were several justifications for. Firstly, Israel was still recovering from the grueling 1948 War of Independence (during which foods products were also distributed and restricted). Secondly, and this was perhaps the most important issue, the government was extremely concerned that without rationing, the state wouldn’t be able to provide food and clothing to all the new immigrants, who were arriving in large waves at the time – most of them without any property whatsoever. Moreover, the government wished to reduce the cost of living through rationing, in order to prevent large economic gaps in society.

A display of products that all citizens were entitled to, photo: Beno Rothenberg, the Meitar Collection

*“Rationing ensures food for everyone” –* a government propaganda poster promoting austerity, the Historical Poster Collection at the National Library of Israel

And so, Israeli citizens were required to take their food coupons, calculate points, and report to the grocery store where they were registered. They received oil, sugar, margarine and rice, and indulged in meat maybe once a week and fish maybe twice a month. Occasionally they received eggs, chocolate, 100 grams of cheese, or dried fruit. Due to the situation, there were often shortages, and costumers were not always able to receive the food products they desired. The frugal selection forced citizens to be creative when cooking their meals, and there were those who came to their aid: the cooking guru of the era, Lillian Kornfeld, produced a cookbook. The WIZO organization put together an exhibition in which “austerity dishes” were displayed. The government, for its part, tried to convince the people of the wonders of egg powder.

“Bless my crest! There’s really no difference between a fresh egg and a powdered egg – aside from the price* and the shell! *Powdered eggs are cheaper. 2 tablespoons of powdered eggs+2 tablespoons of water = 1 egg”, the Historical Poster Collection at the National Library of Israel

*“Out of coffee!” –* A sign on the door of a coffeehouse in 1949, photo: Beno Rothenberg, the Meitar Collection

Due to the shortage of staple foods, a gray market and black market quickly emerged, alongside the regulated price system. Immigrants who received food coupons would sell these for money in the gray market. Quality products gradually fell into the hands of savvy merchants, who established the black market, where citizens could suddenly obtain eggs and meat, butter and chocolate. The government tried to combat the parallel market that popped up under its nose, and conducted aggressive publicity campaigns attacking it. The authorities also established an enforcement mechanism, which included searches of apartments and personal belongings, in an attempt to eliminate the black market.

*“The scalper is your enemy! The black market is your catastrophe!*” – A government propaganda poster targeting the black market, the Historical Poster Collection at the National Library of Israel

A child dressed up in a “black market” costume, during a costume contest in Tel Aviv, 1951; photo: Beno Rothenberg, the Meitar Collection

Gradually, the restrictive rationing policy caused growing resentment among Israeli citizens. The public slowly accumulated more money than it could spend. Citizens couldn’t use their money as they wished because of the austerity regime. In the summer of 1950, a general strike broke out among merchants, who demanded a change in government policy. Clothing and footwear stores, cafes and restaurants, all closed their doors.

A man reading a sign announcing a business strike, photo: Beno Rothenberg, the Meitar Collection

The civil resentment quickly spread to the political arena. The “Mapai” ruling party indeed supported the policy, arguing that it was a necessary evil in order to absorb mass immigration, but its political rivals didn’t hesitate to attack the austerity regime. The most prominent party in the struggle against the rations was the General Zionists party. In the 1951 Knesset election, they campaigned under the slogan “Let us live in this country.” The successful campaign positioned the party as Mapai’s main competitor, and won the party 20 seats – it’s greatest achievement in the history of the state.

Pro-austerity signs in the May 1st parade, 1949; photo: Beno Rothenberg, the Meitar Collection

*“No return to rations! No more lines!” –* An election poster for the General Zionists party, the Historical Poster Collection at the National Library of Israel

The rationing policy was officially abolished in 1959, but even before that, changes were made to the restrictions. Improvement in Israel’s economic situation, civil resistance, unbearable bureaucracy, and the black market that rendered austerity irrelevant, all led to changes in the policy. In 1952, Minister of Finance Eliezer Kaplan, and his replacement, Levi Eshkol, introduced a program called “The New Economic Policy” and took the first step in improving the economic situation of Israel’s citizens. Nevertheless, in retrospect, some say the austerity was a great achievement: Thanks to the unpopular measures, Israel, a young post-war state, managed to develop its economy and absorb millions of immigrants – without starving.

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No Friend of Bacteria: A Letter from Louis Pasteur

This is the story of a promising young student who became the “father of microbiology”, but it didn’t happen by accident; a personal tragedy spurred Louis Pasteur to search for cures for infectious diseases

Sharon Cohen | 24.03.20

Louis Pasteur was not born into a family of means. Growing up poor, he received a Catholic education and did not particularly excel at his studies. No one imagined that he would become one of the most prominent scientists of all time for his contribution to the field of medicine.

In his early teens, Louis’ interest in reading grew and he eventually became his own schoolteacher’s assistant. At sixteen, he moved to Paris for his studies, but an acute case of homesickness led him to return home. He enrolled in a local college and successfully completed his bachelor’s degree in science in 1840 and master’s in science in 1842. The next year, he fulfilled his lifelong dream of attending the prestigious École Supérieure Normale (after having failed his first attempt at acceptance).

A portrait medal of Louis Pasteur, the Sidney Edelstein Collection at the National Library of Israel

In 1846, Pasteur began his research in the field of crystallography (the scientific study of crystals), for which he was made a Chevalier of the French Legion of Honor in 1853 for his discovery of the differences in the crystal structure of the two enantiomers of tartaric acid. At age twenty-seven, Pasteur was appointed professor of chemistry at the University of Strasbourg.

An autographed photograph of Louis Pasteur, 1891, the Sidney Edelstein Collection at the National Library of Israel

While teaching at the university, the brilliant young scientist met Marie Laurent, the daughter of the university’s rector. They married on the 29^th of May, 1849 and began working together, with Marie assisting in scientific experiments. Their future seemed very bright, until tragedy struck. Three of the Pasteur’s five children died from typhoid, not unusual for that time, but Pasteur swore he would do everything in his power to find a cure for communicable diseases.

In 1854, he was appointed dean of the faculty of sciences at the University of Lille, the same year he began his study of fermentation. In the framework of his research, he came up with a solution to the problem of bacteria. His idea eventually led to a process that would significantly reduce the presence of bacteria in milk, wine, beer, fruit juices and honey. In this process, liquid (milk, for example) is heated rapidly – almost to the boiling point, and immediately cooled. The purpose is to kill harmful viruses and organisms such as bacteria, protozoans and fungi that are present in the liquid without compromising the liquid’s nutritional value or taste. Beyond extending the shelf life of the liquid, the process helps to prevent disease. This process, which we call pasteurization, was named for its inventor – Louis Pasteur. For his work, Pasteur was awarded the prestigious Rumford Medal in 1856.

The National Library of Israel is in possession of a rare letter sent by Pasteur himself to an unknown recipient, referred to simply as “Monsieur,” which was written, in French, at some point between 1868 and 1869, and which reveals that at that time of its writing, Pasteur was deeply engaged in the further development of the pasteurization process:

“[B]efore anything, and as I mentioned in my last message to you, I ask that you take note of the necessity of performing the heating of the bottles inside the large-scale heating containers; and remember the fact which the professional committee finally agreed upon at the last wine tasting, that the color of the wine that was heated when protected from air was stronger and even somewhat darker than that of the same wine when it remained unchanged and unheated. One can get an idea of the speed of the oxygenation of the wine by looking at the exact experiments appearing in my publications. Do not forget that the wine in bottles or in any other vessel, after it has been sealed a few days before, and after moving it from vessel to vessel to remove the sediment, will, during its decomposition, contain only nitrogen or carbonic acid and no trace of oxygen, but will contain oxygen the very moment it comes into contact with air. Furthermore, bear in mind that the solubility of gases is proportional to pressure.

Finally, it is best to remember that the wine, at the first removal of sediment after the end of fermentation, is saturated with only carbonic acid gas; also on this point refer to my publication “Etudes sur le vin” – the amount of dissolved carbonic acid, at this moment, is so great and so ready to be released that it might resist the intake of air in your device.

I am far from being against cooling after heating. Here again, one must take into account the oxidation process. With the reduction in volume in a barrel, air will penetrate, however it is perfectly clear, from the point of view of preservation principles, that it is safer to fill while heating; but the germs of the wine development process are many and much more active than those created by the air. Through heating, the wine has acquired such features of preservation as to allow, in most cases, even further maneuvering at a later date without great danger to its preservation. In short, with regard to the practice of immediate cooling after heating it will be possible to formulate an opinion after the accumulation of [data from] experiments. In the current state of affairs, I am far from doubting the wisdom of this practice. When heated in a bottle it is clear that the process is more or less natural and certainly not harmful here…”

The four-page letter Pasteur wrote to an anonymous recipient on October 20^th (no year is recorded), the Sidney Edelstein Collection at the National Library of Israel

Pasteur did not stop there. His contributions spanned a variety of fields and even included the development of a vaccine for rabies. The first successful experiment with the vaccine was performed on a sick child on July 6^th, 1885. Following the experiment’s success, he received inquiries from across Europe from people who had been bitten by wild animals.

In 1887, Pasteur founded the medical research institute which bears his name to this day, and which he headed until his death in 1895. Long after his passing, his name is still familiar thanks to his discoveries relating to the principles of vaccination, microbial fermentation and pasteurization. The Pasteur Institute continues the work he began: developing vaccines and drugs to fight disease, including current research being conducted in the hopes of developing a vaccine for the Covid-19 virus.

—

Many thanks to Elizabeth Friedman and Sharon Assaf for their assistance with translation.

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When the Spanish Flu Arrived in the Land of Israel

The pandemic known as the Spanish flu spread across the world in the early 20th century, reaching the Land of Israel as well; we took a look back at the news reports of the day

Amit Naor | 24.03.20

History of Israel mandatory palestine Newspapers

Courtesy of the Otis Historical Archives, National Museum of Health and Medicine, Maryland

“Avoid crowded gatherings in closed places; avoid contact with others as much as possible, don’t even shake one’s hand when saying hello.” This was the ninth directive in a list of guidelines published by the Hebrew newspaper “Do’ar Hayom“ in February 1920, when the pandemic known today as the Spanish flu raged all over the world – and in the Land of Israel as well.

The Spanish flu, otherwise known as the 1918 flu pandemic, spread rapidly across the globe following the end of World War I, with overcrowding and famine likely contributing to the disease’s outbreak. The flu infected approximately half a billion people, almost a third of the world’s population, and killed tens of millions. It was one of the deadliest pandemics in human history.

In the Land of Israel, where the population was relatively sparse at the time and largely rural, the disease didn’t hit as severely as it did in other countries across the globe. Nevertheless, it arrived here too, and the population and authorities had to adjust to a new situation. As we mentioned above, even in 1920 – well after the major outbreaks of the pandemic across the world – residents were still being asked to adhere to strict hygiene rules. Apart from being given basic cleaning guidelines, people were also instructed to isolate patients and even to inform the authorities if they encountered someone who was sick.

From *Doar HaYom*, February 9^th, 1920. For the full list of recommendations in Hebrew, click here

“On the Flu

Recently, a disease has been raging in Haifa, which is apparently that same Spanish Flu which wreaked havoc in Europe, claiming so many victims, even more than the Great War. And yet, here it won’t last long. Nevertheless, it has become quite dangerous here as well, especially in the Old City neighborhoods, where the Muslims and Sephardic Jews live, and which is quite gloomy and dark. Furthermore, these residents do not maintain hygiene and sanitary conditions.

General sanitation and specifically maintaining clean bedclothes: on clear and sunny days, take out the bedclothes, sprinkle camphor or naphthalene powder on the beds, wash the floor, and let the breeze dry it.
If you start suffering from a cold, even a mild one, use a handkerchief, which you should keep in a tin box, with chunks of camphor and naphthalene. Be especially careful of phlegm from the nose or throat. In case of a runny nose, gargle antiseptic medicine and use the following ointment: Eau exygenee Menthel Resorcine Borax. It is recommended to stay in a warm bed for a day or two.
In case of a cold accompanied by fever, report this immediately to the government sanitary department and if possible, call the doctor”

There is little information on the impact of the disease on the Land of Israel. Contemporary reports cite a low number of casualties in urban areas compared to Europe. According to a study on the subject conducted by Zalman Greenberg, there were approximately 40 listings of flu patients at Sharai Tzedek Hospital in Jerusalem in 1918 – and this is the only remaining documentation regarding patients infected with the disease in the country. Greenberg also noted that in Tel Aviv’s Trumpeldor Cemetery, there are three tombstones with inscriptions stating that the deceased passed away from the “Spanish disease”. Here is an excerpt from a doctor’s report on the state of health in the country in 1919:

From *Haaret*z, September 24^th, 1919. For the full article, click here

“Dr. M. Borochov-Hoze

On the State of Health in the Country

(A short review)

This first year following our redemption from the agonies of war, has passed, compared to other countries, with relative peace. Although malevolent angels in the shape of contagious diseases and various plagues, which always follow war, and which accompanied the World War as well, have also passed through our country. Evil spirits blowing through the ravaged countries, trampled by armies, have blown through the air of the Land of Israel as well. “A scroll and a sword descended intertwined from heaven” – yet this is but a saying of old. It is a historical fact that in places where you find the sword, you come across epidemics and other exotic diseases. However, just like with the war itself, our brothers in the Land of Israel suffered less of diseases than the rest of the world. Lone cases of cholera, typhus, and recurring fever, and many case of the Spanish disease – a disease that has spread like a storm through all the fighting countries and their neighbors, and wreaked havoc upon them. – This disease claimed victims among our young soldiers, who survived the Turkish oppression. Nevertheless, casualties in our small country were fewer than those abroad.”

Naturally, in the early months following the outbreak of the flu pandemic, in the spring of 1918, when the information was still scant and incomplete, the Hebrew newspapers began publishing their reports. In June 1918, a journalist for the newspaper “Ha’Tzfira” (one of the leading early Hebrew newspapers, published in Warsaw), reported on the spread of the disease in Spain.

From *Ha’Tzfira*, June 13^th, 1918. For the full article, click here

“The Foreign Disease

I read that all public and government spaces in the capital have closed. The trams have stopped working. The factories and industries have shut down. The schools have closed and the students, who were anxiously studying for their exams, were sent home. More than one hundred thousand people are lying sick in their beds, and the disease hasn’t overlooked the king and his chief ministers, who have also caught this strange, wondrous illness, which has suddenly assailed Spain.

And I also read that the disease is spreading and expanding all over the country. The number of people afflicted by the disease has reached 10 million people. The military forces stationed in Morocco and the Canary Islands are also suffering. The doctors are helpless; all of the people are extremely fearful.”

The pandemic raged for two years. During that time, Hebrew newspapers wrote brief reports about the pandemic spreading throughout the rest of the world, just as they reported on other daily news from around the globe with the help of news agencies.

“Madrid (today): the Spanish flu has erupted again. One hundred and twenty people died from the disease in the past two days.”

The issue of language in these reports is no less interesting. What was the disease called when it mysteriously appeared? The source of the virus wasn’t actually in Spain. Its common name, “the Spanish flu”, stemmed from the fact that most of the initial reports of the disease came from neutral Spain, a country that didn’t take part in World War I and which didn’t censor its press. However, Hebrew newspapers hurried to align with other media outlets around the world and associated the disease with the Iberian country. Some newspapers wrote of “the Spanish disease”. The Yiddish press often used the phrase “shpanishe magefa” (Spanish plague). These papers were published in the United States and across Europe and reported more frequently on the topic as their target audience resided in countries that were more heavily affected. Eventually, “Spanish flu” became the dominant name for the disease. The Hebrew newspapers still used the terms “grippe” (derived from French) and “influenza“, but gradually they also began using the word “shap’a’at“, meaning “flu”, which Eliezer Ben Yehuda coined as early as 1893.

In late 1920, the Spanish flu disappeared from the world just as suddenly as it had appeared, and with the exception of a few outbreaks in Africa, the H1N1 virus which caused a worldwide pandemic, didn’t return until the swine flu outbreak of 2009. However, here in the Land of Israel, the relatively new British Mandate authorities had to deal shortly after with the return of an equally threatening illness: the plague, which broke out in Jaffa and threatened Tel Aviv in 1922. Fortunately, thanks to the authorities’ determined actions, it was also wiped out of existence. You can read about it on the Israel State Archive’s website.

A poster distributed by the British Mandate authorities encouraging the extermination of rats and mice – The Israel State Archives

And one more bonus tidbit:

Although the Spanish flu was left behind, various flu viruses remained with us, and even made their way into commercial advertisements! In 1957, there was an outbreak of another (much less fatal) flu pandemic around the world, known as “the Asian Flu.” “Eliaz” wineries from the Israeli town of Binyamina took advantage of the opportunity and published an ad with a recommendation that wasn’t necessarily approved by doctors:

Asian Flu or Regular Flu?

Either way, getting sick isn’t pleasant.

Golden Crown Cognac, from Binyamina’s “Eliaz Wineries” – is the best natural vaccine against flues and colds.

Drink Golden Crown Cognac, from Binyamina’s “Eliaz Wineries”.

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Making Japanese Washi Paper

The members of the National Library's Conservation and Restoration Department make sure they are constantly up to date, even when it concerns the most ancient traditions; recently, they attended a workshop dedicated to the secrets of making Japanese washi paper

Udi Edery | 22.03.20

The Conservation and Restoration team making Washi paper in the traditional method

The National Library’s Department of Conservation and Restoration is in charge of preserving and restoring rare items in the Library’s collections, as well as halting processes of deterioration and erosion, in order to conserve the items for future generations. This delicate work is an art form in itself, with techniques and knowledge that have evolved over centuries. Our Conservation and Restoration department, like many conservation departments around the world, uses Japanese washi paper to restore various items. Marcela Szekely, the department’s director, explains the many uses and advantages of washi paper: “Every item that arrives at the department is carefully examined and the Japanese paper used for repairs is strictly selected according to it thickness, coloring, and fiber length. Washi paper is very versatile and has many uses in restoration: patching together paper tears, filling in missing parts, and even restoring book covers. Other disciplines in the world of restoration have also discovered the wonders of Japanese washi paper and it is also used in the restoration of objects, ceramics, textiles, and more.”

Marcela Szekely, director of the Conservation and Restoration Department, tries her hand at papermaking

Members of the National Library team recently met with Izhar Neumann from “Izhar Neumann Paper Making Studio,” at his workshop in the village of Yanuh-Jat in northern Israel. Izhar is an artist who specializes in creating washi paper. He lived in Japan for many years, where he worked with master paper-makers and learned traditional techniques that have been passed down from generation to generation for centuries. Izhar brought these methods to Israel, where he opened his workshop and planted paper mulberry trees – otherwise known as Japanese kozo (楮) plants – which are then made into flexible, strong paper with delicate, natural textures.

Japanese washi paper can only be made by using either kozo plants or close substitutes like the mitsumata shrub and the gampi tree. In any case, the first step towards creating your own washi paper begins with the planting of a tiny seed! – These perceptive words are my own; to the best of my knowledge, they were not uttered by a wise old Japanese man, but who knows? – So if you’ve read this far, you already understand that washi paper isn’t made of rice, as are other forms of Japanese paper used in art. It is extremely important to maintain a strict production process, especially if you want excellent results. If the process is completed correctly, it produces a very strong and flexible paper characterized by long fibers which can blend wonderfully with the original paper of the item being restored.

The department members with the finished product; Izhar Neumann Paper Making Studio, Yanuh-Jat

It is very difficult to make paper at home, and it’s important to remember that this is a process involving various substances. Therefore, if you don’t have the knowledge, we suggest you don’t try this at home. Nevertheless, just for the sake of accumulating new knowledge – here is how you prepare washi paper using the traditional method:

The first step, as alluded to earlier, is to grow the paper mulberry trees until they reach the right size. It is important that they reach a precise stage in their growth – on the one hand, not to over-grow them, while on the other hand, giving them enough time to reach the appropriate size.

Hagar Milman from the Conservation and Restoration Department separates the paper from a bamboo mat using the traditional method

After showering love and attention on the branches of the kozo tree, we prune the pinkish branches and cut them. This must also be done in a very precise and focused manner. Then, it’s time to start “cooking” the paper.

First, we handle the raw material. After collecting the kozo branches, they are soaked in water and treated with various substances.

The Japanese prepare the paper mainly during the winter, as the cold water helps soften the wood fibers during the production process. This is why the National Library team chose a wintry, overcast day to travel to Izhar’s workshop. Izhar recalled that when he studied the technique in Japan, the students would work in the workshops during the winter for hours in order to make use of the cold water. After that, they would plunge their hands into hot water, in a pot placed on the oven, in order to warm them quickly. The library staff members were seated around a low wooden table and Izhar began working with the group on the various stages of paper preparation. The method remains the same. The only difference is that a group of Israelis sat around the table, instead of a group of Japanese.

After soaking the branches, we separate the bark from the branch, and collect the fibers at its core. Although Izhar does this quickly and mechanically, we must keep in mind that he’s highly experienced and that he’s using a sharp, dangerous tool. So don’t try to peel the bark without going through proper training.

After collecting the core strips of the kozo branches, which look like long white hairs, soak them in water, stir occasionally, and then, take out a cluster of fibers and squash them together. After that, squeeze the mass with your hands to extract the water from it.

Now comes the fun part: pounding the pulp with a meat tenderizer or some other wooden hammer. Just take out all your frustration on that poor pulp, (“Take that! And that! That’ll teach you!”) before it is then placed in a big tub filled with water where it is boiled with the required substances – don’t forget to mix!

Now it’s time to get your hands dirty. At this point, grab a bamboo mat which has been attached to a wooden frame and start making paper! By using a distinctive movement that consists of pushing the frame into water, tilting it at a certain angle, pulling it out, and straining the water – the kozo wood fibers are extracted from the water, and in turn merge into a beautiful strip of paper. The person performing this action also controls the thickness of the final paper.

After achieving the desired thickness, take the frame out of the water, and by using skilled movements and a specific technique (which we thought bore a resemblance to working with a sushi mat), separate the bamboo mat from the frame and place it on the drying paper. After accumulating a pile, the papers are pressed in order to get rid of the excess water. Now all that’s left to do is place the damp paper onto upright wooden boards and wait for it to dry.

At the end of a long day at the workshop, the Conservation and Restoration team returned to the library with a cache of practical knowledge and with their own stock of washi paper, which they can use in their various assignments. This traditional technique of paper preparation is hundreds of years old, and to this day, many workshops like Izhar’s can be found in Japan. Experiencing how to make paper from scratch, and understanding the complicated process and the necessary amount of hours required, contributed greatly to the knowledge and experience of our Conservation and Restoration team, who now have a new-found appreciation for the material which they paste into various restored manuscripts and books. The ctrl+p keys on our keyboards will never again be taken for granted!