![]() ![]() My father taught me to read and speak modern Hebrew and my mind was filled with the writings of the early Zionists. However, in the minds of many Jews, South Africa was merely a stopgap, a stepping stone to Israel. I was born and raised in South Africa, a country once seen as a land of opportunity and a haven from persecution for the Jews of Eastern Europe. And I, too, was young and brimming with idealism and energy. I once saw Israel as a vibrant young nation, a phoenix risen from the ashes, the only country in the world where a Jew could feel truly safe. I have never lost that attachment but the complexion of the country I once fell in love with has changed alarmingly since those halcyon days, as no doubt has mine. ![]() My emotional attachment to Israel was formed during the nineteen forties, fifties and sixties, when I was swept along by a strong current of Zionism. I was reminded of this story when reflecting on the changes wrought by the ageing process in both me and Israel over many decades. When his body is found, it is that of an old man, unrecognisable in its ugliness, while the portrait itself has miraculously reverted to its original beauty. In a dramatic denouement, the young man attempts to destroy the portrait but succeeds only in killing himself. Meanwhile, a portrait of him, securely stowed away in his attic, gradually takes on the ravaged appearance which matches his true age and lifestyle. In Oscar Wilde’s novel, ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’, a young man magically preserves his unblemished good looks while leading an increasingly dissolute life. ![]()
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