Nostalgia Sunday – Prison Service History
Filed under: A New Reality, Crime, General, History and Culture, Israeliness, Life, News, Nostalgia Sunday, Politics, Profiles, Social Justice, War
The Israel Prison Service isn’t the most popular or glamorous of the country’s defense and security forces. But the important work that it does was brought into sharp focus this past weekend with the Carmel forest fires and the human tragedy of 41 persons, of which 37 were prison guards whose lives were lost when their transport bus was engulfed by flames.
It seems only appropriate to present a short history of this unsung service, whose roots may be found, (often quite literally) in the jails cells of British Mandatory Palestine.
We will be like other nations, goes the saying attributed to national poet Haim Nahman Bialik, “When the first Hebrew policeman brings the first Hebrew prostitute before the first Hebrew judge.” The Zionists who envisioned the modern State of Israel were Utopians who believed they would be able to create a moral society without crime or criminals.
For this reason, Israel Prison Service (IPS) historian Naama Telem writes, “…prisons were not built for many years and old and inappropriate buildings, some dating to the British Mandate, were refurbished and used as detention centers… Prison conditions were harsh and very crowded. So much so, in the early 50s of the last century [the authorities] were forced to release a hundred prisoners, because there was not enough room for them.”
Israel’s first prison, called Ayalon, was built in the city of Ramle – also in a refurbished Mandatory structure – and was intended to house 450 prisoners. A second prison, Shata, was opened in 1952. “But it was on July 31, 1958 that the rules of the game changed. A prisoner revolt broke out, led by a group of Arab prisoners. The rebels took control of the weapons room and waged battle with prison wardens.
Two guards, Sergeant Joseph Shevach and First Sergeant Alexander Jaeger were killed [the funeral is pictured at left - RN]. Prison guards were injured. The exchange of fire killed 11 prisoners and 66 other prisoners managed to escape.”
“The Shata uprising caused a shift in the organization’s priorities. If, prior to the rebellion, rehabilitation and treatment of prisoners was the central issue, security was now awarded a place of honor. More and more funds were allocated to reinforce prison walls along with other security measures. The Age of Innocence, which began with the founding of Israel, ended.”
Two years later in May 1960, the IPS took part in another significant event in young State’s life: the capture and arrest of one of the most wanted Nazi criminals, Adolf Eichmann. The country was in an uproar over the arrest and vigilantism was feared. There’s no little irony in the fact that the IPS was called on to provide special protection so that Eichmann could be brought to trial unharmed. And once Eichmann was sentenced, it was the IPS that carried out the hanging – the first and last official prisoner execution in Israel’s history.
The Six Day War in June 1967 forced the IPS to conform to new realities once again, with thousands of Arab detainees suspected of belonging to organizations hostile to Israel entering the prison system. ”This new and problematic population meant the IPS had to deal with problems not previously recognized as well as a growing mass of prisoners.”
“The situation was becoming complex…. following the first and second intifadas… more and more terrorists were behind bars… The IPS had to find more and more detention facilities to meet the needs of the State of Israel. In 2006, handling of all security prisoners was transferred to the IPS and all IDF detainees held since the Six Day War were transferred to IPS permanent facilities. The tent camps that characterized the military prisons are disappearing and a new law allows soldiers to fulfill their military service prison guards.”
Remember who the victim was
Filed under: A New Reality, Crime, General, Israeliness, Life, Politics, War
Sure, it’s undoubtedly a jolt to find out that your identity was absconded with, without permission, to perpetrate an act of murder. On the other hand, look at the victim.
Mabhouh helped found Hamas’s armed wing Izzadin Kassam in the 1980s and was perhaps most infamous for being behind the kidnapping and murder in the first intifada of IDF soldiers Avi Sasportas and Ilan Sa’adon. According to Liat Collins in The Jerusalem Post, Hamas held out against revealing the location of their bodies, neither of whose last minutes were spent in anything like a luxury hotel. Sasportas’s body was discovered after three months, while it took seven years to find the remains of Sa’adon and offer his family closure.
Mabhouh was also reportedly behind the weapons convoy that, foreign reports claim, was bombed by Israel in the Sudanese desert during Operation Cast Lead a year ago.
If any of the Israelis whose names were utilized in the operation were asked beforehand if they would contribute in the effort to remove Mahbouh from the world terror active list, how do you think they would have responded?
Probably they would have said yes. If any of them served – or are serving in the IDF – then they’ve likely taken part in some aspect of protecting Israel from threats. And they were probably proud of it.
I’d like to think that if my name had been stolen from me temporarily to rid the world of a terrorist aimed at Israel’s destruction, I might be a little dumbstruck at first, but soon after I would feel only pride that I had been able to contribute to the effort in some small way.
I’d only hope that Steven Spielberg would allow me to choose the actor to portray my doppleganger in the film adaption of the operation. I’m thinking maybe Johnny Depp in his Hunter Thompson haircut mode?
Art Show at the Museum of the Underground Prisoners
Just when we thought we’d seen all that Jerusalem has to offer, along comes a surprise in the most unusual of spaces. For weeks, the Jerusalem municipality has been running full-page ads promoting Art Jerusalem 08, an exhibition with hundreds of mostly new and unknown artists. The setting was the Underground Prisoner’s Museum just off Kikar Safra (City Hall Plaza) in the Russian Compound neighborhood.

The fair was fabulous, ranging from under appreciated impressionists like Reuven Rubin to up and coming artists such as Ra’anana-based Estee Kreisman whose paint-on-photo panoramic canvases were one of our favorites. There was also a fair sprinkling of multimedia new age video and music-centric installations.
Art was for sale too. In one gallery, you could pick up a pint-sized version of David Gerstein’s striking multi-layered metal-on-metal sculptures or gaze longingly at an authentic Agam. There was an exhibition of just Bob Dylan photographs and even a Sotheby’s gallery featuring paintings for sale (at prices jumping to the hundreds of thousands of dollars for some works).
The highlight, though, was not the art itself but the interplay between the exhibition and the museum. The Underground Prisoner’s Museum was new to us (though both of our older kids have taken school field trips there). The museum is set in and around a former British jail used to house inmates ranging from petty criminals to political prisoners from 1918 to 1948 when the British quit Palestine. The building itself dates back to 1858 when it was served as a Russian pilgrims’ hospice for women.
The exhibits depict life in the prison and tell the stories of the underground groups and their members in order to perpetuate their memories. Incarceration resulted from offenses that included putting up posters, training and possession of weapons, and physical assault. At its height, the prison population totaled 250.
There are several long corridors lined with prison cells where inmates slept 8 to a room on thin woven mattresses on the floor. We toured the solitary confinement cells, the infirmary, synagogue and death row. Prisoners from the Jewish underground were put to work making coffins and gravestones for British policemen and soldiers they had killed in combat.
In retaliation, the British executed tens of Jews from the Irgun, Hagana and Lechi brigades during the time the jail was in operation (most of the underground members were transferred to the prison in Acre for execution). Large photographs of each of the underground fighters executed are displayed in an emotionally wrenching gallery.













