Page 99 - big friday
P. 99
t" received the residents of the city with blue-and-white flags, a portrait of Herzl, and
gladioli of all colors. The postal employees were dressed up for the occasion, with flowers
decorating their lapels. Gone were the cross faces and apathy of government employees.
"On a day like this one cannot be unhappy," said a clerk, while the head clerk greeted
all who entered with the words, "hag sameah" (happy holiday).
" Don't let them see that it's blank…"
A t 1:30p.m. the final draft of the declaration of the state was submitted to the People’s
Council for approval. Once it was approved, typed, and duplicated, the secretary, Dorit
Rosen, hurried to a stationary store to buy blue paper to serve as an envelope for the three
folios of the declaration, inscribed with the words, "Declaration of the Provisional State
Council ". Another secretary rushed to a nearby store to buy a pen that the members of the
Council would use to sign their names to the declaration. She wanted a gold pen, but was
disappointed to find that the store had only a gold-plated pen in stock.
A s to the declaration, Zeev Sharef believed that this important historic document should
be set down on a parchment scroll. One of his assistants spent an entire day running about
the streets of Tel Aviv in search of unblemished parchment. He did not manage to find
real parchment, but he did obtain a synthetic scroll that was water- and fire-resistant (he
experimented with water and fire at home before bringing it to Zeev Sharef).
The scroll was thus already available, but there was no time to copy the declaration onto it.
"Let them sign a blank scroll at the ceremony," Sharef told his assistant, instructing him to
roll it in such a way that they would not notice that it was blank…
T he time and venue of the ceremony were, as noted, confidential. The first to give the
secret away were the policemen who arrived in the afternoon and cordoned off the section
of Rothschild Boulevard near the Tel Aviv Museum where the ceremony would be held.
People in the street began to gather around the building at 16 Rothschild Boulevard, and
tried to break through the line of Jewish policemen with their shiny white belts, who were
protecting the building. But the museum was too small to accommodate even those who
had been invited. Moreover, in the hurry some errors had been made in the list of invitees,
and many people – including foreign journalists and press and cinema photographers –
were offended at not having been invited. There was no room even for the Philharmonic
Orchestra, which had been invited to play HaTikva at the opening of the ceremony and at
its conclusion, and there was no choice but to move the orchestra to the upper floor.
A green car pulled up at the entrance to the museum. Out of it leaped Zeev Sharef,
holding the duplicated declaration in his hand, and Dorit Rosen, his secretary, and they
rushed for the stairs of the building. A few moments previously they had stopped a traffic
policeman in the street and had asked that he hail a cab for them. "We have to get to the
ceremony," they explained. When a car was stopped and Zeev and Dorit dived onto the
back seat, Sharef addressed the driver: "You now have a great honor," he told him, waving
A State is Born 97
gladioli of all colors. The postal employees were dressed up for the occasion, with flowers
decorating their lapels. Gone were the cross faces and apathy of government employees.
"On a day like this one cannot be unhappy," said a clerk, while the head clerk greeted
all who entered with the words, "hag sameah" (happy holiday).
" Don't let them see that it's blank…"
A t 1:30p.m. the final draft of the declaration of the state was submitted to the People’s
Council for approval. Once it was approved, typed, and duplicated, the secretary, Dorit
Rosen, hurried to a stationary store to buy blue paper to serve as an envelope for the three
folios of the declaration, inscribed with the words, "Declaration of the Provisional State
Council ". Another secretary rushed to a nearby store to buy a pen that the members of the
Council would use to sign their names to the declaration. She wanted a gold pen, but was
disappointed to find that the store had only a gold-plated pen in stock.
A s to the declaration, Zeev Sharef believed that this important historic document should
be set down on a parchment scroll. One of his assistants spent an entire day running about
the streets of Tel Aviv in search of unblemished parchment. He did not manage to find
real parchment, but he did obtain a synthetic scroll that was water- and fire-resistant (he
experimented with water and fire at home before bringing it to Zeev Sharef).
The scroll was thus already available, but there was no time to copy the declaration onto it.
"Let them sign a blank scroll at the ceremony," Sharef told his assistant, instructing him to
roll it in such a way that they would not notice that it was blank…
T he time and venue of the ceremony were, as noted, confidential. The first to give the
secret away were the policemen who arrived in the afternoon and cordoned off the section
of Rothschild Boulevard near the Tel Aviv Museum where the ceremony would be held.
People in the street began to gather around the building at 16 Rothschild Boulevard, and
tried to break through the line of Jewish policemen with their shiny white belts, who were
protecting the building. But the museum was too small to accommodate even those who
had been invited. Moreover, in the hurry some errors had been made in the list of invitees,
and many people – including foreign journalists and press and cinema photographers –
were offended at not having been invited. There was no room even for the Philharmonic
Orchestra, which had been invited to play HaTikva at the opening of the ceremony and at
its conclusion, and there was no choice but to move the orchestra to the upper floor.
A green car pulled up at the entrance to the museum. Out of it leaped Zeev Sharef,
holding the duplicated declaration in his hand, and Dorit Rosen, his secretary, and they
rushed for the stairs of the building. A few moments previously they had stopped a traffic
policeman in the street and had asked that he hail a cab for them. "We have to get to the
ceremony," they explained. When a car was stopped and Zeev and Dorit dived onto the
back seat, Sharef addressed the driver: "You now have a great honor," he told him, waving
A State is Born 97
