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the Discovery
of Ma avar Harotem
by MARIANNE ZEITLIN
The other day we had an old
friend visit us. A compatriot and
colleague of my husband. He was
the Israeli composer Ben-Zion
Orgad. Ben-Zion, who is the Su
pervisor of Musical Education in
Israel, on a Sabbatical this year
from the Ministry. He received a
fellowship from Brandeis Univer
sity where he spent the past sea
son. In the summer he had been
invited by Aaron Copland to
Tanglewood where he won the
1961 Sagalyn Award for his or
chestral composition “Kaleido
scope.” He is also the winner of
the 1961 coveted Israeli Engle
prize for best musical composition.
I asked Ben-Zion to tell me
something about himself as a com
poser, but he demurred, feeling—
and justifiably—that a composer
can only really be known by his
music. But he did tell about one
of his experiences as a Reconnais-
ance officer in the Israeli Reserve
Army which, while it may not
have anything to ' do with his
music directly, cannot but influ
ence it in same way.
Every year for six weeks, Ben-
Zion leaves his wife and two chil
dren in Tel Aviv, and goes into
active reserve. A couple of years
ago he was posted in the heart of
the Negev near the Mountains of
the Nabateans. This is the area
where Dr. Nelson Glueck has been
making an archaeological survey.
The mountains have enormous
ridges which thrust upward dra
matically from a plateau which
stretches for miles. Behind these
mountains is Jordan and they had
seemed to form a natural, impreg
nable boundary.
At that time a large number of
infiltrators were believed to be
hiding in this area of Israel and
rumor had it that there was a
patch through the Rotem Ridge.
The Rotem (a kind of flower) was
the highest of the ridges, spring
ing some 2000 feet skywards with
walls like polished glass, and deep
ravines encircling it. To imagine
that this ridge was passable seem
ed like the height of improbability
but the Israeli army is not one to
pass up any possibility and elected
Ben-Zion, renowned for his ad
venturousness, to head the mis
sion to find the alleged path of the
Rotem. He was given a map of
the area as it was hitherto known
and found himself fascinated by
the names on it, such as Havadi
Halavan (White Valley); Ramat
Hazipporim (Birds’ Heights); Har
Hamichya (Mountain of Life).
These were Hebrew translations of
old Nabatean names, the people
who inhabited the area about 1,000
years ago.
Ben-Zion chose his colleagues
for the mission for their boldness
and daring. One of the boys, Ova-
diah, was a Yemenite “tough,”
known for his pluck and courage.
But he rarely said a word. Early
one morning, at the break of dawn,
this hardy band of men was trans
ported by car as close as possible
to the Rotem Ridge. Ahead of
them stretched some thirty miles
of plateau filled with knifelike ra
vines. Taking their compass and
following their noses they started
out.
In the late morning they came
across an old Nabatean village, the
streets and houses of which were
almost perfectly preserved because
of the dryness of the desert. There
was a little Armenian church
which must have been erected
around the period of the First
Crusade. Now there is reconstruc
tion being done on this village
but at that time they encountered
an awesome silence. The water
wells were just large enough to
admit a wineglass, no doubt in
order to preserve it from evapo
ration. The ground underneath
them was obviously not virgin
and in spite of the surrounding
barrenness, the ancient Nabateans
and later the Bedouins, found a
way to cultivate the wasteland.
In front of them was a large en
closure with steep walls and a
white bottom which seemed like
a giant shoe box. This was the
White Valley. After the village
they encountered even greater ra
vines and on they trudged until
they reached the Birds’ Heights,
again aptly named, for unbeliev
ably, at this great height, there
were more birds clustered than in
the entire desert. The big ridge
became closer, and the closer it
became, the steeper the hills, like
a front guard against any intrud
ers. As they approached it they
felt as if the walls were closing
in on them, and the play of light
and dark was hypnotic. When
The Southern Israelite
18