Page 11 - ZIM 80

Finally, a Ship
Bar Kochba Meirovitch, a Rishon Lezion native, was not versed in the manners of the
British aristocracy; small talk about horses and hunting dogs were not a part of his
lexicon. Nonetheless, in 1946, when he negotiated in London with Lords Wimborne and
Kilmarnock on behalf of the Zim shipping company, which had been established a year
prior, he achieved the desired result – a cooperation agreement for the procurement of
a ship. The telegraph he sent back home was received with a sigh of relief mixed with
excitement: finally, a ship.
The official establishment of Zim in 1945, immediately following the Second World War,
was a historic step, but its founders faced an impossible mission: building a shipping
company from nothing, within an almost chaotic reality. “We very much wanted our
ships to be visible on the Mediterranean immediately after the war,” said Meirovitch, later
Managing Director of the Transportation Ministry; but during the war a large part of the
international merchant fleet simply drowned. The conflict between the Yishuv, striving
for independence in the Land of Israel, and the British Mandate, was escalating. This
made purchasing a ship all the more difficult.
Not until the end of the 1930s did seafaring receive any attention from the side of the
Yishuv leadership. This would change fundamentally in the years leading up to the
establishment of the state and during WWII. Right after the War, in light of the sheer
scope of the Holocaust of European Jewry, the Yishuv began to make massive rescue,
escape, and immigration efforts.
The British navy prevented the arrival of immigration boats packed with survivors to
Palestine, causing anger, frustration, and a yearning for a different future. During these
years there was a growing recognition of the importance of independent shipping, and
it was no longer just a matter for enthusiasts. A refrain by poet Haim Gouri, opening with
the words “The day will come my brothers,” captured the collective spirit in an almost
prophetic statement: A Hebrew fleet will sail, my friends / and in the light of the afternoon
sky / it will be like every land and nation!
To the effort Zim’s founders tried to mobilize all of the private and institutional maritime
players in Mandatory Palestine, with the goal of forming a unified front for the establishment In a relatively short period of time more boats were purchased – Negbah, Artzah, and
of a national company. It wasn’t a simple task, despite the feverish activity in response
to the distress of hundreds of thousands of refugees in Europe. At one of the heated
meetings leading up to the purchase of the first ship, Zim reported about the company’s
efforts and was criticized for being too fastidious in its search for a suitable ship: “It is
better to make mistakes than to begin with nothing,” stated Captain Zeev HaYam, one
of the pioneers of shipping in Israel.
And indeed, there were efforts (which luckily did not yield results) to purchase ships that
turned out to be either unseaworthy or not suited for their designated purpose. But the
agreement that Meirovitch finally reached with the owners of the British Harris & Dickson
company to purchase and operate a vessel named Kedah, was different: The ship had
an illustrious record, and even though it was in need of a complete overhaul, it was a
splendid vessel. Zim changed its name to the more apt Kedmah, meaning “Eastwards.”
The saga of its purchase and renovation, and the training of the first crew, were an endless
source of pioneering tales and nostalgia. The arrival of the Kedmah at the Tel Aviv Port,
on July 28, 1947, after quite a few hardships and mishaps, took on the form of an epic
national event: “A symbol of solace, renewal, a covenant with the sea,” wrote historian
and director Zvi Herman. The heads of the Yishuv came to greet the ship, and journalists
enthusiastically described the passengers and crew.
1949 ,‫צוות האנייה נגבה‬
Crew of the Negbah, 1949
11
Tragedy and Hope
In those same days the headlines were filled with the story of the immigrant ship Exodus,
which stirred international public opinion and became a turning point in the struggle
to establish a state. The sweeping illegal immigration campaign, operated by the “Aliya
Bet” branch of the Haganah underground, created a new national myth. Its operatives
ran a “shadow fleet” and gained maritime and shipping experience through circuitous
and obstacle-ridden routes. Upon the establishment of the state, this huge operation
turned at once from an “illegal” enterprise into the foundations of a commercial fleet
that would serve the newly founded state. At the end of the complex process, the step,
which in hindsight looked like a natural one, was completed: merging the management
of the young Zim company with that of the Aliya Bet organization.
Zim’s ranks were thus joined by the clandestine forces behind the immigration mission.
Among the senior members of the organization were those who during the years of the
campaign gained expertise in the procurement and operation of ships while managing
an expansive international network of agents and representatives: much like the directors
of the shipping company, but a little different. Yosef Barpal and Zvi Yechieli were among
the prominent names joining Zim’s management. Further joining the company’s ranks
came graduates of the Palyam underground maritime courses of the Haganah, as well as
British navy veterans who had seen battle at sea and gained experience in transporting
supplies and fuel in a sea riddled with enemy submarines.
Quintessential of this merger were the two largest immigration boats, Pan York and Pan
Crescent. The ships were intercepted on their way to Palestine and taken to Cyprus. The
immigrants were taken to detention camps while the crews, under the command of Ike
Aharonovitch and Gad Hilb, remained on board and anchored near Famagusta, where in
mockery of the British they kept the vessels in seafaring form and ready for action. Just
as Israel’s declaration of independence took place, a flag-raising ceremony was held on
the deck, in which the great Cypriot friend of the immigrants, “Papa,” after whom a city
square in Haifa was eventually named, took part. Both of these ships became part of
the young Zim fleet under new names, Atzmaut and Komemiyut, and they carried the
released detainees from Cyprus to Israel.
Galilah – which carried on board the massive wave of immigration during the first years
of the state. Each boat has a story of her own; from their decks thousands of people
entered Israeli territory and beheld Haifa and the Carmel Mountains for the first time.
In parallel, Zim worked energetically to develop cargo routes to Europe and America, to
establish an operational infrastructure and subsidiaries, and to appoint ship agents in
the various ports of call. The scope of the activity in the first years was dizzying, as was the
series of dramatic events that took place during them. In 1951 came the great seamen’s
strike, a formative event in Israel’s history; Zim, while not playing a main role in the story,
was nevertheless impacted by its results. In 1952 Zim purchased the Dizengoff shipping
company, inaugurated an independent route to America, and showed impressive growth.
The flow of immigrants thinned, and passenger ships started to focus on fare-purchasing
travelers and tourists.
It was one of Zim’s founders, Gusta Strumpf-Rechav, who clearly expressed the dilemma
– and the strategy – of Zim as a national shipping company: “Our primary role is Jewish
immigration. But there is no contradiction between the national and the economic.
Our company must have a commercial rationale and not lose money.” The implied
contradiction between national and commercial goals would accompany Zim for many
years to come.