Medinat Yisrael Is Born
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troops. Government House was a solid, austere edifice built of
light-colored stone, with a central tower from which the Union Jack flew. Quite symbolic, I thought, for Government
House to be situated on the Hill of Evil Counsel. Actually,
Sir Alan was liked, personally and politically. With rare foresight he had tried to mitigate the effects of Ernest Bevin's
harsh policy, but now it had all come to nought.
On the spacious grounds outside Government House we
found the picturesque Highlander Light Infantry, in shorts
and khaki berets topped with a red pompom, lined up in formation. Tanks and armored cars spread out around the palatial
gardens. At exactly eight o'clock Sir Alan emerged, a tall,
handsome man with pink cheeks and gray hair. He reviewed
his guard of honor, made a short speech, chatted informally,
shook hands. The British Broadcasting Company made an onthe-spot broadcast, recording the end of an adventure that
started bravely thirty years ago. England came humbly then;
General Allenby entered Jerusalem on foot, and won the
thanks of millions of Arabs, Jews, and Christians the world
over for liberating the Holy Land from Turkish rule. Thirty
years of duplicity and disregard for the interests of anyone but
herself had dissipated England's storehouse of good will. Instead of leaving now, as a friend, the English were being
kicked out—their every departing step cursed by Arab and
Jew.
Sir Alan walked to his car. As the ex-High Commissioner
got into a sleek black Rolls Royce, the Highlander bagpipers
appropriately sealed the Mandate's end by playing a long and
mournful Scottish funeral dirge. The correspondents got into
their cars, and most of them returned to the Pantiles.
"ASDVADZ MEDZ EH"
FIRING broke out on both sides the minute Sir Alan's armed
cavalcade left Jerusalem. By 9.30 a.m. the shooting had be-