* * *
And then, quite suddenly, our world came crashing down around us. The Irgun split wide open.
Beginning with a clash of personalities, the split soon became a clash of principles and degenerated quickly into an orgy of mutual abuse, such as only a fight within a family or a sect can produce. The unknown leaders suddenly assumed names-Raziel, Stern-and accused each other of being Fascists, British agents, traitors, spies for the police. Our secure little world was disintegrating. Commanders, as lost as their men, wandered between the warring factions. Our company commander, an architect, whom we admired and imitated, joined Stern, the extremist leader who believed that we should make common cause even with the Nazis and Fascists in order to overthrow British imperialism.
One fateful night, we were assembled in a dark schoolroom to hear a speech by one of the Sternists. We did not see him. A powerful voice came out of the darkness, starting off with the words: "We follow our leaders into battle -as long as they lead us into battle." The other side, he told us, was prepared to stop the fight against the British for the duration of World War II. We, the fighters, would carry on. England was weak. This was the time to strike.
At the end of the speech, he said: "But if there are any among us who do not have the strength and the courage to carry on, let them stand now and leave." The assumption, obviously, was that no one would dare to.
I stood up and left. Walking the streets for hours, I felt alone and forsaken, all certainty dissolved. But the desperation slowly lifted, new ideas-half felt but suppressed until that moment-rushed in. I was only fifteen, but I think it was the night I grew up.
Two things became clear to me before the night was over. I knew that I would devote my life to politics, that compared to politics everything else was unimportant,