The Holy City
177
We followed the mourners, walking in silence. When the
crowd turned a corner to Husseini's house, I climbed aboard
an armored car to take pictures. At that moment a volley of
rifle shots suddenly crackled into the air. I heard shouts:
"Yahood! Yahood!" Mourning gave way to panic, as practically every Arab in the teeming mob of thousands simultaneously let go with pistol or rifle. The bullets hit live electric
wires, which broke and swung on the road as Arabs tried to
scramble out of their way. My position atop the car was, to
say the least, highly untenable. I remember now that a bullet
whistled past just as I jumped, crawling on all fours toward a
space between two cars. Everyone was scrambling for safety.
Within sixty seconds, the streets were completely cleared.
Arabs were flat against anything that was handy: earth, streets,
doors, walls. Some were still jumping over fences. It was all
very undignified for a people who claimed that if they chose
to spit, they could drown the Jews. Crouching between two
cars, I managed to take a few pictures. Under each car were
three Arabs, with others trying to crawl under. Of all the
bizarre scenes I saw in the Arab world, perhaps this one of
utter panic, hysteria, and fear was the most comic—and significant.
What we had all thought was a Haganah attack turned out
to be a rifle salute in honor of the dead commander. When
they began shouting this intelligence, I saw Moustafa crawling
from under the armored car, dusting himself with an air of
embarrassment. I showed him my scraped shinbone.
As the funeral cortege came around the bend I lost Moustafa. The boys assigned to guard me had bravely disappeared
during the melee. I was alone. Fortunately, when I got on a
high wall to shoot pictures, I met two Armenian boys. They
accompanied me as we followed the cortege. Husseini's coffin,
covered with a red, black, and green flag, was carried to the
square below the Dome of the Rock, where Arab chiefs spoke
their eulogies. All this took place within sight of the Wailing
Wall. The bier was then lifted by the pallbearers and the final