Biography / His life, before apotheosis

Rabin: Tzmihato Shel Manhig (Rabin: The Growth of a Leader -- Childhood, Youth, Palmach), by Shaul WeberSifriat Maariv (Hebrew ), 244 pages, NIS 89

In explaining why he wanted to write about the young Yitzhak Rabin, historian Shaul Weber states that before his traumatic 1995 assassination, the prime minister and Labor Party leader was a "hero with a riddle." That riddle, Weber explains in the preface to his biography, only intensified after Rabin's death.

In Weber's eyes, Rabin was a complex figure, a combination of "integrity and a sort of innocence, alongside a brutal aggressiveness that had its occasional outbursts." Rabin always had people around him, but he was "a solitary person who conveyed outsider otherness and emotional alienation." He was a political person, and yet his "entire essence radiated a lack of agreement with the political norms," even a sense of revulsion and rejection of the political world.

The author's primary thesis is that "the individual is nothing but a mold of the landscape of his homeland." In other words, if one is to understand Rabin's personality and motivations, one must take a close look at the roots of his upbringing.

Yitzhak's mother, born Rosa Cohen, was much more dominant and visible than his father. Known as "Red Rosa," because of her socialist politics, she was a tempestuous figure "who could carve flames with her words." She was born in what is today Belarus and immigrated to Palestine on the S.S. Ruslan, the legendary ship that was to be the bellwether of the Third Aliyah, the wave of immigration mainly from Russia and Poland that began after World War I. Once in Palestine, she made her way to Haifa, then a small port city, where she married Nehemia in 1921. A clerical job did not satisfy Rosa's needs, and she invested most of her energies in public activity in the city's labor movement. After a short stay in Jerusalem, the family moved to Tel Aviv in 1923. There, Rosa worked as a bookkeeper at Solel Boneh, the large construction firm owned by the Histadrut labor federation, continuing her voluntary work in the off hours.

All of this vigorous civic service was cut short by cancer. Rosa's last public appearance was in a May Day parade in 1937. Six months later, she was dead at 47. Yitzhak was 15 when his mother died, and his sister Rachel was 12.

Blood of molten iron

Rosa's death set off profound mourning, both public and private. On December 3, 1937, the Mapai party bulletin Hapoel Hatzair wrote that "her blood flowed with molten iron. She could not abide compromise, concession or negotiation, instead forever hewing to her arrow-straight line, which was engraved by her conscience. We will therefore preserve her memory within us evermore."

It was a traumatic event for Yitzhak too. In his autobiographical memoir "The Rabin Memoirs" (published in Hebrew as "Pinkas Sherut" in 1979), Rabin wrote, "I had never cried until then, and never cried again afterward." Commenting on this, Weber notes that Rabin "permits himself ... in a manner unknown to us, to pour himself out emotionally, and this too reflects on the enormity of the shock he sustained."

Even before her final illness, Yitzhak was powerfully affected by the maladies from which his mother suffered during her short life. In his book, Rabin wrote that his Rosa's heart disease, for example, fostered in him a deep fear, and that he grew up under its paralyzing shadow.

Weber refers to this ominous shadow more than once. In 1934, Rosa and Nehemia went to the therapeutic spa in Marienbad, Czechoslovakia, seeking to improve her frail health. Yitzhak remained at home, alone. (His sister was sent to be with relatives.) "It is easy to imagine what a 12-year-old boy who stayed home alone went through, anxious about the fate of his mother," writes Weber. In 1937, when his mother's cancer became more serious, he left home to study at the Kadoorie Agricultural School, in the Lower Galilee, though doing so made him feel guilty.

At the boarding school, Rabin was characterized by his shyness and introversion. His friends from those days remember him as an "introspective boy from whom the guys kept their distance," according to Weber. In other words, Rabin "took part in all of the activities and did everything well, but his trait of being 'asocial' was always perceptible. There was respect for his ability and his knowhow, but there was always a sense of keeping one's distance from him." Rabin did not take part in any mischievous acts; he was "always serious, and took everything seriously." In 1939, Rabin completed his studies at Kadoorie with honors. He was awarded a certificate of excellence by the high commissioner of the British Mandate, Harold MacMichael, in an impressive ceremony.

In 1941, Rabin completed a squad commanders course in Alonim under the guidance of Yigal Allon (who had yet to Hebraicize his last name from Paicovitch), who was to be his patron for many years afterward. Rabin's advance through the ranks of the Palmach was rapid and impressive. In late 1946, he was made commander of its second battalion, and only a few months later, in September 1947, he arrived at Palmach headquarters with a very senior posting: chief operations officer. As part of this position, Rabin was responsible for roads to the besieged Negev and for the highly sensitive job ensuring free passage to Jerusalem, including the roads to the besieged Gush Etzion. At the time, Rabin was only 25 years old.

In the book, Weber speculates about Rabin's progress. "Were these promotions the result of his abilities and skills?" His answer is unequivocal: "Without a doubt." Despite this statement, Weber does seem to express some reservation: "Rabin was blessed with many talents, but the ability to be liked by the men under him was not one of them. And because the ability to deal with complex human relations was not one of his skills at that time, the question takes on added significance."

Obstinate commander

The question Weber raises about how Rabin got repeatedly promoted relates in part to his brief spell as commander of the Harel Brigade (April-June 1948 ), which suffered much loss of life in bitter battles. One of those was the battle of Beit Mahsir, a large village south of the road between Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, near Sha'ar Hagai. Beit Mahsir served as a base for Arab attacks on the road. Two attempts were made to conquer the village, and both failed. In the third attempt, Rabin ordered Yosef Tabenkin, who commanded the battalion that was intended to conquer it, to attain the target "at any cost." Uzi Narkiss, deputy commander of the battalion, did his best to persuade Rabin to postpone the attack, saying that the battalion's soldiers were completely exhausted and would not be able to carry out the difficult mission. Narkiss, who'd known Rabin for years, described him as a "different man than the one I knew beforehand or afterward. I'd never seen him so obstinate."

Throughout the unpleasant conversation, Rabin repeated one particular sentence: "Beit Mahsir must be conquered, at any cost." During the battle, the fighting force was depleted and asked for permission to retreat, but then the Arab force broke down and withdrew first.

As for Rabin's conduct in the battles of Beit Mahsir, Weber writes: "Rabin adopts the outlook that demands more from the fighters, that they withstand everything and not be broken even if the situation is desperate, at practically any cost. In contrast, Tabenkin . . . exhibits more flexibility, and is more willing to see the viewpoint of the exhausted soldiers. It can be assumed that the difference in outlooks derived in part from the fact that Tabenkin, despite being thought of as condescending, was close with the fighters, as opposed to Rabin, who was considered light years away from them."

Though the entire book sheds new light on Rabin's youth, it is episodes like these, which took place while he commanded the Harel Brigade, where Weber contributes the most to our knowledge of the young Yitzhak Rabin.

"Rabin, the Growth of a Leader" does suffer from a few problems, however. Its style is overly methodical, it doesn't always flow well, and it contains several embarrassing mistakes. For instance, the caption beneath one of the photographs describes the subjects as Yitzhak Rabin, Yigal Allon and Golda Meir, but the woman in the photo is actually Rachel Rabin Yaakov, Yitzhak's sister.

After his assassination, Yitzhak Rabin became the image of perfection -- a one-dimensional cardboard character that was, more than anything else, boring. Shaul Weber succeeds in describing his hero as a complex figure complete with both light and shadow.

Prof. Yechiam Weitz is a historian at the University of Haifa.

Haaretz Books, March 2010, haaretzbooks@gmail.com